CHAPTER 105: CH 105: NEW KING- PART 1

The sound of footsteps echoed across the stone platform as the lady stepped forward to address the gathered crowd.

The guards, citizens, and remaining soldiers all quieted immediately, their eyes fixed on her.

Her posture was straight, her eyes calm, but anyone who truly observed her could see it—her mood was far from pleasant.

She stood beneath the stone arch bearing the royal crest, flanked by guards who gave her space but remained watchful.

Her gaze swept across the square, then came to rest on the two men standing across from each other—King Gorgon and Fenrir.

With an icy tone masked by regal poise, she began.

"People of Beginner’s Paradise, the outsider who has stormed our gates and defeated our soldiers has proposed a challenge to our king. A test of worth for the right to rule this floor."

She said, her voice carrying clearly.

A murmur spread through the crowd. Whispers, gasps, cautious speculation.

The lady’s voice cut clean through it.

"Do not fear. Your king is a strong one. A worthy one. And this trial shall prove it beyond any doubt."

She turned now, facing Fenrir and Gorgon directly.

"I will now serve as arbiter for this match. If either of you has complaints, voice them now."

She continued.

Fenrir didn’t hesitate.

"I asked for a neutral judge, not a biased one."

He said, his voice flat but clear.

Gasps rippled through the audience.

Even Gorgon blinked, surprised by Fenrir’s boldness.

The lady didn’t flinch. She raised her chin.

"You’re free to find a neutral one, if you can do so in the next five minutes."

She said coolly.

Fenrir held her gaze for a second longer, then shrugged.

"No need. I don’t mind you taking charge."

She inclined her head slightly, accepting the answer without comment.

"Very well. The rules are simple. Both parties will be granted ten minutes to prepare. Once the timer ends, you will be released to search the city.""

She said.

She paused for effect, letting the importance of her words settle.

"There is a single flag hidden within the boundaries of Beginner’s Paradise. Whoever finds it and brings it back to this platform shall be declared the victor. No disputes will be entertained."

Fenrir raised a brow.

"Is this vow binding?"

"It is. I swear upon the law of fate. No interference. No reversal of judgment. The result will be final."

She said, and then, to prove it, she placed her palm over her chest and closed her eyes. A faint glow of mana shimmered around her form.

Even if this looked real, Fenrir had a feeling it was a fake vow taken to deceive him. But he decided to play along for now.

The crowd grew tense. Gorgon’s brows furrowed slightly, but he gave a small nod.

Satisfied, Fenrir crossed his arms.

"Fine. That works."

With no further delay, the lady raised her voice once more.

"Let the trial begin! You have ten minutes to prepare. Then, the search for the flag shall commence. May the worthy rise!"

She declared.

The city square erupted with tension as the crowd stepped back, guards and onlookers making way for the two competitors.

Gorgon turned to his men, giving them a few sharp commands, while Fenrir calmly walked a few paces away, stretching his arms slightly and closing his eyes to mentally prepare.

The match for the fate of Beginner’s Paradise had officially begun.

King Gorgon was the first to move. With his spear slung over his shoulder and a grin stretched across his face, he turned toward Fenrir.

"I’ll be leaving you in the dust. Try to keep up, outsider."

He said, his voice echoing confidently through the courtyard.

Without waiting for a reply, he strode out of the square, cape fluttering behind him.

The crowd erupted into cheers and encouragement, some even following behind him a short distance before being waved off by the guards.

Fenrir didn’t move. Not immediately.

His sharp eyes scanned the surroundings.

Amid the sea of spectators and soldiers, one figure caught his attention—a maid moving a bit too nervously, too quickly, weaving her way through the edge of the crowd.

She wasn’t headed toward the buildings or slipping away like some curious onlooker. No.

She was deliberately following King Gorgon’s path, but with a detour to keep out of direct sight.

Fenrir narrowed his eyes.

’System. Scan her.’

A moment later, the response appeared in his vision.

[Target identified: Courier. Contents: Royal Flag (Fate Trial Artifact). Objective: Deliver to Emperor.]

Fenrir’s lips curved into a cold smile.

So that’s the trick, he thought.

It was a clever plan. Hide the flag on a trusted aide and have her deliver it to the king at a predetermined location.

No need to search, no chance of failure. Almost perfect—except they hadn’t accounted for Fenrir.

The moment the maid moved out of the central range of the platform, Fenrir started walking.

He didn’t sprint. He didn’t need to.

He crossed the space between them with long, purposeful strides and caught up to her just as she reached the alleyway between two stone buildings.

His hand clamped down on her arm.

The maid let out a startled yelp.

"H-Help!"

The crowd turned in confusion. The lady on the platform leaned forward, her eyes narrowing.

"What do you think you’re doing to an innocent maid, outsider?"

She called out.

Fenrir didn’t even look at her.

"Innocent? Since when did accomplices count as innocent?"

He said loudly.

Gasps echoed across the courtyard. Murmurs turned to shouts as heads whipped toward the scene.

Even King Gorgon, halfway down the plaza street, turned and marched back, his brow furrowed with confusion.

The maid trembled under Fenrir’s grip. She opened her mouth to protest—but there was no point.

Fenrir reached into the folds of her apron, pulled out the rolled silk flag with the golden seal, and held it up for all to see.

The crowd fell into stunned silence.

The flag unfurled with a dramatic flutter, the symbol of Beginner’s Paradise gleaming under the afternoon sun.

The silence lasted for only a second before the city’s system voice boomed through the air:

[Victory declared. Trial of Fate complete. Winner: Fenrir.]

Cheers did not erupt. No applause followed. There was only shock. Confusion. And the heavy sound of King Gorgon’s boots returning to the square.

The maid collapsed to the ground, covering her face with shaking hands. Fenrir let her go without another glance.

The lady on the platform’s expression twisted. She took a single step back, lips tight, as she tried to maintain composure.

Fenrir turned to her and offered a small, cold smile.

"Well....That was quicker than ten minutes."

He said calmly.

King Gorgon’s jaw tightened as he stared at the flag in Fenrir’s hand.

The pride in his chest crumbled beneath the weight of defeat. His fists clenched around nothing, trembling—not from fear, but from the helplessness of being outplayed.

He had lost. Fair and square—or at least according to the rules he had agreed to.

The lady descended the platform slowly, her gaze locked on Fenrir. Her expression was unreadable, but her voice was calm.

"As per the rules, the winner’s wish must be granted. Speak it."

Fenrir didn’t hesitate.

"I want Gorgon to honor the deal. He belongs to me now—as my subordinate."

A ripple of murmurs swept through the crowd.

The soldiers looked to their king, stunned. King Gorgon looked at Fenrir, eyes burning—not with hatred, but with humiliation.

"You bastard...Fine. A king keeps his word."

He muttered, then let out a bitter laugh. He stepped forward and knelt.

"I, King Gorgon, submit to Fenrir."

The plaza erupted. Some soldiers drew weapons in protest, but the lady raised a hand, silencing them.