The closer they came to the palace, the quieter the streets became. Stone walls pressed in, and people’s gazes slid over Kael — curious, wary, sometimes openly hostile.

  “Don’t worry, I’m with you,” Rin whispered.

  “I’ve heard unpleasant rumors about the king,” Nika said quietly.

  The doors of the throne hall swung open.

  They were met by silence.

  The vast hall was filled with people. Knights in armor stood along the walls, mages in robes whispered among themselves, and advisors formed a semicircle before the throne. At the center, on an elevated platform, sat the king.

  All eyes turned toward them.

  And then — toward him.

  Kael felt it immediately.

  Not just looks — pressure.

  “So this is the hero?” one of the warriors said quietly.

  “Too ordinary,” a mage with silver rings remarked coldly.

  “He doesn’t look like someone who can save the world,” someone else sneered.

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  Kael remained silent.

  Every word struck his mind.

  So this is how the hope of this world is welcomed.

  Elf stepped forward.

  “He was summoned by prophecy. The magical organization confirmed the connection between his soul and the flows of this world.”

  “Prophecies do not fight for us,” one of the advisors replied. “People fight.”

  The king raised his hand, and the hall fell silent.

  He slowly stood and descended several steps, looking closely at Kael.

  “Do you understand where you are?” he asked.

  “Yes,” Kael answered.

  “And do you understand what is expected of you?”

  Kael clenched his fists.

  “I understand that you do not believe in me.”

  The king narrowed his eyes slightly.

  “Then prove that you are worthy of belief.”

  He gave a signal.

  The side doors opened.

  Two prisoners in chains were brought into the hall. Knights with drawn weapons escorted them.

  “Punishers…” Elf whispered.

  One of them smirked.

  “So that’s him? That’s what a hero looks like?”

  The king pointed at them.

  “Choose.”

  “What…?” Kael slowly raised his gaze.

  “You will fight one of them,” the king said calmly. “Here. Now.

  And you will kill him.”

  The hall filled with murmurs.

  “Your Majesty!” Rin said sharply.

  “It is an order,” the king cut her off.

  Nika clenched her teeth.

  “You want to break him.”

  The king looked directly at Kael.

  “I want to know whether he can be relied on.”

  Kael felt his mouth go dry.

  “If you refuse,” the king continued, “you will be declared a false hero. The girls will be punished for the summoning — or even executed. And you will die. You don’t want that, do you?” the king said.

  The silence became deadly.

  One of the prisoners tilted his head.

  “So, hero? Choose.”

  Kael slowly exhaled.

  He looked at the first — confident, mocking.

  Then at the second — silent, with a cold, attentive gaze.

  Something inside him clicked.

  He stepped forward.

  “I will fight,” he said hoarsely.

  “The second one.”

  The knights led the chosen Punisher to the center of the hall. The chains were removed. A sword fell at his feet.

  The mages raised protective barriers.

  The king returned to his throne.

  “Begin.”

  The prisoner lifted the sword and smirked.

  Kael stepped forward.

  At that moment, he understood:

  there was no turning back.

  And when the opponent took the first step, Kael realized that the time had come to somehow activate his power —

  even though he had no idea how.