Chapter 57: The Throne Is Not for Kings
A week had passed, and the King’s Arena was full before the doors were scheduled to open.
Students moved in clusters toward the entrance, and the conversations that followed them were the conversations that had been circulating on campus for seven days.
"Leon’s team finished Round Two ninth overall."
"The third-years went top five. Every single one of them. Which, obviously."
"Did you hear about the person with the Goblin? Apparently they made it into Round Three."
"What!? They actually survived every round!?"
"Yeah, but they had the lowest completion times."
"But perfect rescue scores."
"I heard he convinced an entire expedition to follow him."
"No, that’s exaggerated."
"...Is it?"
"I don’t know anymore."
"I heard even some professors are talking about him."
"...He’s still only a first-year."
...
A professor moving against the flow of students said something to the colleague beside her that Arthur only caught the end of: "The first-years are making this considerably more interesting than expected."
Roland stood on one of the upper observation platforms with several instructors from different departments.
One of them folded his arms.
"They’re still here."
Roland followed his gaze toward Arthur’s team.
"Barely," another instructor said. "First-years shouldn’t have survived two rounds."
"Especially not with an F-Rank Goblin."
Roland smiled.
"You keep saying ’shouldn’t.’" He watched Arthur laughing with Mithra. "Eventually you’ll have to admit they’re simply good. I already have."
The instructors looked at him in surprise.
One of them said, "R-Really? They convince even–"
"They stopped surprising me after Round One." Roland looked toward Arthur. "Now I’m simply waiting to see what he’ll do next."
Nobody answered immediately.
A few quietly looked toward Arthur again.
...
Arthur looked at the packed observation platforms, the floating recording crystals, and the rows of students filling every seat that existed and most that had been added.
"So many people came," he said.
Sun walked beside him with Kong on his shoulder and the expression of someone who had thought through the implications of this level of attendance. "They came to watch us suffer," he said.
Arthur nodded. "That too," he said.
...
Ajax stepped onto the field floor and the arena quieted in the practiced way it quieted for Ajax.
"The results from Round Two are finalized," he said.
The crystal display that rose behind him showed thirty team names in ranked order. Students immediately began scanning for their own and their rivals, the way people scanned lists when the information was both wanted and feared.
Arthur found his team near the bottom of the thirty. The score was there. The qualifying mark was met.
"We’re still here," he said.
Sun exhaled in a way that communicated several weeks of accumulated tension. "Barely," he said.
Ajax let the top thirty sit for a moment. Then: "After today’s challenge, only fifteen teams will continue."
Nobody reacts.
"You’ve all come farther than most students ever do." Ajax’s eyes swept through the crowd. "It changes nothing."
Before the announcement, Arthur had been watching his teammates scan the rankings with the comfortable attention of people checking results. After it, he watched the same people’s eyes move differently, slower, landing on other teams with the specific weight of people who had just begun performing different calculations.
The tournament had become real.
...
Ajax glanced toward Leon. "He’s going first."
Steven smiled. "Of course he is."
Ajax folded his arms. "Would you?"
Steven looked at the throne for a long moment. "...No."
Ajax raised an eyebrow.
Steven smiled. "I’d rather see who understands the battlefield first."
"Tsk, that’s why you are so annoying to deal with." Ajax shook his head before snapping his fingers.
"It’s better to just go strong from the start."
"But that’s pretty lame."
"As I said before, you really are annoying!"
...
Arthur blinked.
The space behind him changed. Not a forest or a desert or underground ruins. Just one object in an open white field.
A throne.
It was made out of old stone. Time had worn away almost every carving on its surface.
Almost.
One sentence remained, but it was so faded, Arthur couldn’t read it.
"The third challenge," Ajax said. "Sit upon the throne."
Arthur looked at it. "That’s it?" he said.
Mithra turned toward him slowly. "You sound disappointed," she said.
"I was expecting more spectacle."
"There will be spectacle," Athena said, in the tone of someone who had already identified where it was coming from.
Ajax explained the rules in sequence, and the audience’s understanding of the challenge reconstructed itself with each addition.
Every second spent on the throne accumulated points. Straightforward enough.
Only the fifteen teams with the highest totals would advance. This was where the strategies began appearing in faces: not the highest score, just high enough.
The throne could be claimed and lost and reclaimed. The timer was cumulative. Multiple captures across the full fifteen minutes added together.
Students were already calculating numbers in their heads when Ajax added the fourth rule.
"The person seated on the throne," he said, "may not attack."
Silence.
"Nor defend themselves."
Longer silence.
"Nor may their contracted beast attack or defend them in any way while they are seated."
Arthur asked. "...Can I at least wave?"
Ajax sighed. "...Yes."
Arthur looked relieved. "Good."
Sun blinked. "...You were actually worried about that?"
Arthur nodded. "It would have been rude not to greet everyone..."
"Besides..." He smiled. "If we’re sitting on the throne while everyone tries to take it from us... the least I can do is welcome them."
Silence.
One second-year student blinked. "...Welcome us?"
"Of course." Arthur nodded. "You’ve all worked hard to get here. I’d feel bad if I ignored you."
Another student slowly lowered his weapon. "...Is he saying we’ll lose?"
"No..."
"...I think he’s saying we’ll all line up to challenge him."
"That’s even worse."
Leon laughed. "Confidence suits you."
Arthur scratched his cheek. "Confidence? Well, I’m just trying not to be rude."
Sun quietly covered his face. "He did it again..."
Athena sighed. "Arthur."
"Yes?"
"Please stop encouraging people."
Arthur looked confused. "...I thought I was being nice."
Then the teams quickly recovered and started redoing their plan, but some of them did send Arthur some annoyed and hateful glares. Command-type teams, who had built their strategies around their beast’s offensive capacity, were visible in the crowd by the expressions they were wearing and the speed at which they were leaning toward each other.
Support teams had a different expression entirely, the expression of people who had just discovered their skill set was specifically what the challenge required.
Arthur looked at Mithra. Mithra was already looking at him with the expression of someone who had processed the fourth rule and its implications and was waiting for him to catch up.
"So the person on the throne needs a team that can protect them," Arthur said.
"Without using the throne-holder’s strength," Athena said. "The throne-holder is purely a timer. Their value is their team’s capacity to hold the surrounding space."
Arthur nodded slowly. "Then we should be fine."
Mithra looked at him. "You already have a plan?"
Arthur shook his head. "No."
"I just trust all of you."
Nobody answered.
Mithra smiled.
Sun looked away.
Athena quietly closed her notebook.
Vedas simply nodded.
For some reason, that answer made all of them feel calmer.
Arthur blinked. "...Did I say something weird?"
Sun sighed. "...That’s becoming a dangerous question."
Arthur laughed.
"Well, when I heard you saying you trust us so much... It does kinda make me feel about the plan I had." Sun crossed his arms.
"What were you planning?" Mithra asked.
Sun paused. "I was going to have Arthur sit on the throne and make everyone uncomfortable."
"That was your plan?"
"It was simple."
"That’s not a plan, that’s an observation."
"It was working in Round Two."
"..." Athena and Mithra became speechless while Arthur chuckled.
Leon glanced toward Arthur. "...You’re awfully confident."
Arthur tilted his head. "Am I?"
Leon smiled. "You’re already talking as if you’ll sit on the throne the longest."
Arthur nodded. "Well... winning is usually the goal."
Leon laughed. "Fair enough."
Then he turned his head towards Steven and Ajax before speaking out loud.
"There’s something else," Leon said.
Ajax glanced at Steven.
Steven stepped forward.
"The throne," Steven said, "is not for kings."
He let this sit. "It is for someone worth protecting."
The arena was quiet in the full way that arenas were rarely quiet.
"More teams fail this trial than any other."
Silence.
"Not because they’re weak." Ajax closed his eyes. "...Because they misunderstand the throne."
Everyone blinked at these words, but they didn’t say anything. The only thing they could do was wait for the round to start before figuring out what he meant.
Arthur looked at Vedas.
For the briefest moment...
Arthur saw another figure standing before him. A lone Goblin Commander with her spear planted, standing between danger and everyone behind her.
The image disappeared as quickly as it came.
Vedas was already looking at him.
Neither said anything, because neither needed to. The challenge had defined itself in one sentence, and both of them had heard it and understood what it meant for them specifically.
Vedas nodded once.
Arthur smiled.
...
The white light transported all thirty teams into the battlefield simultaneously.
Ruined arena. Ancient stone that had been substantial once and was working toward something else now, broken pillars at intervals that provided cover rather than grandeur, open ground between them. Enough room for thirty teams to lose sight of each other. Not enough room to pretend the others weren’t there.
Arthur looked up.
A crystal scoreboard floated above the battlefield in a position visible from every point on the ground. Every team listed. Every timer at the same number.
00:00:00
Above the team timers, a larger counter.
15:00
And then, already beginning.
14:59.
"So that’s how they’re tracking it," Arthur said.
"Everyone can see everyone else’s score at every moment," Athena said. "Which means everyone knows who to target."
"And when to target them," Sun said.
"And how much time you need to catch up," Mithra said.
"And whether holding the throne is worth the defense required," Athena finished.
Arthur looked at the throne in the center of the field.
Then he looked at the thirty teams arranged across the ruins.
Then he looked back at the throne.
...
Nobody moved.
The thirty teams were distributed across the battlefield in positions that communicated different strategies, some near cover, some in open ground, some watching rather than positioning.
The scoreboard continued its countdown.
14:55.
Arthur was watching the teams nearest the throne. Three different groups had made their way to advantageous positions, close enough to make a run for it but not close enough to be committed to anything.
Each was watching the others.
Arthur looked from the throne and then at the timers. Nobody was watching the countdown or the battlefield.
Arthur’s smile slowly grew. "...Interesting."
Athena noticed immediately. "You figured something out."
"Maybe."
"What?"
Arthur shook his head. "Nobody’s looking at the timer."
Athena turns. "...You’re right."
14:45.
"Someone has to move," Sun said.
"Someone will," Arthur said.
He was looking at Leon.
Leon started walking.
His teammates were following behind him with their beasts. They crossed the open ground in a straight line toward the throne at the pace of someone who had finished deciding and was closing the distance between the decision and the action.
Several students tightened their grip on their weapons.
One second-year quietly lowered his spear. "...Let him."
And it wasn’t that team but all of the others. Nobody tried stopping them. Not because they couldn’t. But because they wanted to see how long Leon could last.
Leon reached the throne and sat.
He looked at the scoreboard with the expression of someone checking the weather. Then he looked around the battlefield at the thirty teams that were watching him.
He rested his spear across his shoulder.
"Well," he said, which the recording crystals would carry to every part of the arena.
Nobody moved.
"What are you all waiting for?" Leon said. "Either come take me off this throne, or go home."
The scoreboard responded with Leon’s team numbers moving up.
00:00:01
00:00:02
00:00:03
Leon leaned back against the throne. "I’ll even wait."
One second-year frowned. "...He’s provoking us."
Another tightened his grip on his weapon. "It’s working."
00:00:04
One student from a second-year team started running.
00:00:05
Another followed. Then three more from a different team. Then a cluster of five from a position near the far pillar.
The first clash erupted.
Steel collided.
Magic exploded.
Beasts roared.
The first battle for the throne had begun.
Arthur didn’t move; he simply watched and smiled.
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