Chapter 35 — Kaelen Observes & Guides

The roar of the crowd still echoed as Aric sheathed his sword, heart pounding from his match with Sir Dalen. Sweat coated his brow, but a deep sense of accomplishment surged within him. He had tested himself, adapted, and prevailed.

From the shadows at the arena’s edge, Kaelen watched silently. His hood partially obscured his face, but his golden eyes were sharp, analyzing every strike, every stance, every reaction of the prince.

“Good,” Kaelen murmured quietly to himself. “But he rushed at times… relied too heavily on memory rather than instinct.”

Aric noticed Kaelen’s presence from across the arena and approached, bowing slightly. “Master… did I do well?” he asked, eager for approval.

Kaelen stepped forward, the Morphblade hidden once more, and placed a hand lightly on Aric’s shoulder. “You did well, but not perfectly. You adapted, yes, but true mastery requires more than winning a single match. Observe your opponent, predict their thoughts, anticipate their next move—not just their strike, but the intention behind it.”

Aric nodded, eyes bright. “I understand… I must think like them, feel their rhythm, anticipate the unexpected.”

“Exactly,” Kaelen replied calmly. “Strength alone is nothing. Knowledge, perception, and adaptation—these are what will allow you to surpass not only your peers, but even your rivals. Remember what I taught you: fight with understanding, not just force.”

The prince’s mind raced, replaying every strike from the battle. He could see now the moments where Kaelen’s teachings could have made his movements even sharper, faster, and more precise.

Kaelen’s gaze swept across the arena, noticing the other competitors preparing for their matches. “And know this,” he continued, voice low but firm, “every fighter here has strengths and weaknesses. Some you can learn from, others you must overcome by creating your own path. Adapt, improve, and always remain several steps ahead.”

Aric’s grip on his sword tightened. “I will, Master. I will train harder, observe more, and fight smarter. I will not disappoint you—or myself.”

Kaelen gave a faint nod of approval. “Good. The tournament has only just begun. Stronger opponents are coming—those who will push you to your limits. Remember, I am here, but the growth is yours to claim. Learn quickly, or the lesson will be harsh.”

The prince’s determination burned brighter than ever, a reflection of Kaelen’s calm authority. Lysandra, watching from the royal balcony, felt a thrill of anticipation. The boy she admired—the one who had faced his first real test—was evolving before her eyes, guided by the mysterious, legendary Mirrorblade.

As Aric moved to prepare for his next opponent, Kaelen retreated into the shadows, observing silently. Every movement, every choice, every reaction—he would guide, but never interfere. True strength had to be claimed by the fighter himself.

The Royal Grand Tournament’s atmosphere crackled with tension and excitement. Legends had returned. Rivals had awakened. And the stage was set for battles that would test skill, strategy, and the very limits of what it meant to be a warrior.