Trials of the Landlord

The wooden wall's intricate decorations added a captivating allure to Brendant, who was determined to regain his strength. He draped a blanket around his shoulders and, despite the painful groans, exerted effort to sit at the edge of the bed. His once-short silver hair had grown long and unruly, cascading down as he leaned forward.

With measured breaths, he summoned all the strength he could muster to stand, despite the challenges posed by his fragile and mangled hands, still wrapped in bandages with dark, oozing stains. It was then that he noticed a small cup on the nightstand, containing a bluish herbal concoction.

Brendant gazed in a mixture of daze and profound gratitude for their kindness. Their benevolence was something he feared he could never truly repay. Not only had they tended to his severely burnt and unresponsive hands, but Alvar and Feilis had also pledged their loyalty to Caeloria, willing to protect his whereabouts.

Yet, he couldn't indefinitely rely on their assistance. With sheer determination, he pushed himself to stand as swiftly as possible, his mind set on resuming the queen's critical mission. Briefly recalling Alvar's words about the important documents stored in the nightstand, Brendant painstakingly opened it.

After a considerable effort, he managed to reveal half of the drawer, uncovering a small brown-covered book tucked away inside. His gaze shifted instantly to one of seriousness, fully grasping the vital significance of the documents within – these papers held the key to unveiling the emperor's treacherous conspiracy to seize Caeloria, a matter so crucial that it would pit them against the formidable talents of the five Phantom Omega, most notably Rimbus.

The pursuit of the battalion for the precious object showed no signs of relenting, and this only served to fan the flames of Rimbus's desire for vengeance as Brendant's escape left him feeling as if he had forsaken his honor as a knight. It seemed as though all that remained for him was the determination to survive.

He then carefully closed the drawer and exited the room, stepping into a realm of the unexpected. The house resembled a verdant forest, with an abundance of plants and meticulously arranged jars filled with strange elixirs tucked away in various corners.

As he turned his stare to the adjacent room, he was met with a vast space adorned with antique decorations that seemed to exude a mystical charm. Several Feilis stood there, their intense scrutiny revealing their astonishment, causing them to momentarily pause in their activities.

"Oh, it's you," Feilis with orange fur exclaimed, the same feline who had greeted him when he awoke. "I thought it was Livaris."

Brendant squinted, his curiosity piqued by their activities. Upon closer inspection, he discovered that the cats were engrossed in the art of mixtures-making. Some were busy arranging the ingredients, meticulously cleaning herbs, conducting experiments, and diligently recording their findings.

"Can you move your hands now?" the Feilis asked, swiftly leaping onto a nearby table and standing on its hind legs.

Brendant nodded and replied, "Thank you, Nipaw, they're improving." His attention then shifted to those dedicated to their alchemical pursuits. "How long have you all been here?"

Nipaw nonchalantly turned to observe his comrades' work. "Longer than you might imagine," he replied with a remarkable grace, darting into the heart of the bustling activity. Brendant followed him. "I've been here for almost half a century, and my siblings have joined me."

Feilis were far from ordinary cats. Their unique characteristics and human-like lifespans set them apart from other mystical beasts. With his limited knowledge, Brendant could only express his amazement, surrounded by an atmosphere of wonder.

"Are you working on any more potions?" Brendant asked, drawing closer to them and attentively observing their activities.

"Anything we can get our paws on," Nipaw replied as he helped mix the ingredients with a rustic-looking tool, quite different from modern alchemical apparatus. "Who knows, we might stumble upon something more powerful than healing magic, right?"

All of a sudden, the entrance that connected the room to the outside world swung open, revealing Alvar, tall and with a man bun of blonde hair, still wearing his bow and arrows. He looked surprised to find Brendant standing there and greeted him warmly, "Good morning, Commander. Are you feeling better?"

Brendant nodded briefly as Livaris passed him by, heading toward the group of Feilis with a fresh hunt in hand. "Indeed, the concoctions these felines create should not be underestimated, don't you think?" Alvar exclaimed, allowing some of the Feilis to take the birds and insects from his hands.

The man with pointed ears, clad in weathered leather armor adorned with forest leaves, set aside his hunting gear and approached Brendant, a radiant smile gracing his face. "Your wounds appear rather severe, Commander. Would you mind sharing how they occurred?"

Brendant lowered his gaze, briefly studying his injured hands. "You, being an Alvar with superior mana, should already be aware, right? The azure flame capable of melting anything."

Livaris smiled, sensing a hint of misunderstanding in Brendant's words. He took a seat beside them and continued, "With all due respect, Commander, you might not have a complete understanding of me and my kind. About my species."

"Please, take a seat," Livaris added, removing his brown gloves. "I will examine the state of your wounds."

Brendant complied, as his knowledge in this area was limited, allowing Alvar to take charge of the situation. However, as he sat across from him, he furrowed his brows and inquired, "What do you mean?"

"You might believe that we, as the ancient race, possess extraordinary Prana abilities," Livaris began carefully unwrapping the bandages from Brendant's injuries. "While that's not entirely incorrect, most of us are not vastly different from Hilvar."

"We're indeed blessed with more extensive Prana reserves than you," he continued, exposing the badly damaged skin that was now unrecognizable. "Yet, to wield that power, we don't freely carry it within our souls since birth. Like you, we draw it from the natural world."

"While their descendants may inherit a fraction of Prana from one of their parents, depending on whose influence is more dominant," the Alvar closed his eyes, striving to concentrate. "Such a scenario is extraordinarily rare and close to impossible."

Livaris's hands emitted a healing radiance as he approached Brendant's injuries. "Only mystical beasts had that unique advantage, as they are created here, in Nisiar."

The Alvar then regarded Brendant's eyes with a serious expression. "For we are, in essence, newcomers to this world."

***

The heavy, sluggish footfalls led him through poorly lit corridors, creating a stifling atmosphere. Eventually, he came to a halt in front of a massive wooden door adorned with intricate carvings, where Master Vedana stood, waiting for his pupil.

"Fear not," the elder reassured him, placing his bony, withered hand on Alorian's right shoulder, which had been tensing up. "You've already conquered your greatest fear. Now, you must face it once more. I have faith in your abilities."

The young man nodded, forcing a smile. "Understood, Master. I'll give it my all. Thank you."

As Master Vedana opened the door, candlelight illuminated the room, and several individuals were seated within. Despite the brilliant sunlight outside, the room remained enshrouded in darkness, almost as if the sun couldn't penetrate it.

The discomfort grew as Alorian approached the figures, all dressed in complete black attire, emanating an eerie aura. Two members of the Obsidian Sage Order sat facing each other, with a chair set up for Alorian in between, and Reverend Elena at the front.

The elder removed her headscarf, revealing her short white hair and pointed ears. As Alorian came to a stop just behind the vacant chair, Reverend Elena's voice cut through the air, "Sit!"

Her command echoed through the room, a resonant, thunderous tone that seemed to penetrate deeply, even though she hadn't raised her voice. Alorian promptly took his seat, flanked by two elderly women.

"Before we commence," Reverend Elena began, her expression devoid of emotion, prompting a startled reaction from Alorian. "What do you understand about these trials?"

Taking a deep breath to steady his racing heart, Alorian replied, "These trials are designed to select a strong leader for a kingdom."

Reverend Elena remained unresponsive, her unwavering gaze fixed on Alorian, compelling him to elaborate, "Far from ages of kingdoms, the leader of the land was known as the Landlord. Hence, these Trials of the Landlord were born."

She was still in silence for a moment before she inquired, "Tell me, what sort of visions did you experience?"

Alorian was caught off guard, considering that Master Vedana might have informed them of his prescient—weighing the consequences of his response. Nevertheless, he recognized that they might provide a clearer and more accurate interpretation of his visions. "I witness... the destruction of Aliron. I witness Caeloria consumed by flames as snow falls from the heavens. And I've witnessed something too unsettling to put into words."

"Explain everything to me," the elder urged. "Even if it's uncomfortable."

Alorian hesitated briefly but realized he had limited options. "Emperor and Herich are present, scheme something. And... my mother was defiled in the depleted house I used to reside—"

Alorian paused, struggling to describe his last life, the life before his reincarnation in this world. However, Reverend Elena responded, "I comprehend. We will make sense of it. I could feel the difference in your Prana this time, young one."

"You did go through the ritual, didn't you?" the elder added, her gaze sharp.

The young man couldn't hide anything from the venerable members of the Obsidian Sage Order, nor could he lie to them. They could sense everything. Awkwardly, Alorian bowed his head, and this time, Reverend Elena responded swiftly. Instead of speaking, she closed her eyes.

"Very well," both of her irises became visible as her eyelids, marked with wrinkles, reopened. "Let us begin our first trial."