Zara walked beside Alex as they moved through the quieter stretch of corridor leading toward the training complex.
The morning light slanted in through the high windows, cutting clean lines across the stone floor.
"Most of them leave once they reach the end of Level 10," she said.
"And that is the entire point of these halls,"
"The recruits train here, they hit the mark, and then they are considered ready for real work,"
"After that they get sent out onto battlefield-aligned missions or into The Proving,"
"The halls exist to produce combat-ready fighters and then push them into actual war or a war-related environment,"
"Staying past that threshold is rare unless someone has a specific reason or a household decides to keep them longer for further evaluation."
"What is The Proving? I have heard it a few times, but what exactly is it?" Alex asked, curiosity clear in his voice.
"Oh, that, you would have known if you did something other than training the whole day, it’s a competition for those who want a chance to receive an invitation from the CBI."
"That Curse Bloom Institution? The one that manages all the academies of the Human Empire currently?"
"Yes, every person who shows good results during The Proving gets a chance to enter it, just like—"
"Just like my sister?"
"Not only your sister, Alex, even your mother, your father, and any other person with high enough influence, they have all probably been trained in one of the academies under that is currently under that institution."
"So I just have to clear The Proving and I can enter it without any age restriction?"
"Alex, if you think you can actually qualify for The Proving, then you should think carefully before deciding,"
"It is not something like this training hall, here you have healers to treat you even for a minor injury,"
"There you will be completely on your own, in a place where you can actually lose a part of your body and that is just a small part of what can happen,"
"So while there is no age restriction, it is better for you to become quite familiar with real combat before you think of entering The Proving."
"Hmm...when is the next Proving going to take place?"
"...I think next week? Alex, you are not—"
"Good to know, thanks for the information, Zara, we will continue talking about this later."
"Sigh... you aren’t even listening to me, are you..."
Alex glanced at her, matching her pace without breaking stride.
"So how many of these training halls are there in total?"
"Across the main capital there are quite a few," Zara answered.
"They are not all under one roof or one banner."
"Different households fund different ones according to their own needs and resources."
"Some belong to Winterfang, some to Abyss, some to Bloodworth, and a number of smaller noble lines keep their own as well."
"The quality, the pressure, and even the teaching style change depending on who is paying for the place."
"There are also separate halls reserved only for the direct descendants of the major households, those ones are more exclusive,"
"Higher standards, fewer people, stricter oversight, and usually a different kind of expectation placed on anyone who trains inside them."
Alex considered that information for a moment, filing it alongside everything else he already knew about the capital’s power structure.
"Is there one for Abyss?" Alex asked.
"Yes, it sits at the main Abyss dukedom, it is far more private than the mixed recruit halls here in the capital."
"The standards there are set directly by the household rather than by a general military curriculum."
"I see," Alex said.
They reached the heavy doors of the recruits’ training hall.
Alex pushed one open.
The sound of the hinges cut through the usual noise of sparring and shouted instructions inside.
Every head turned.
Instructor Theron stood near the center sparring circles with a group of recruits.
The moment he registered who had entered, he straightened fully.
The recruits around him stopped mid-motion.
Within seconds the entire hall had gone still.
One by one they bowed toward the Third Prince, the movement spreading outward in a clean wave until the only sound left was the faint creak of settling wood.
Alex returned a short, measured nod and stepped fully inside.
His eyes moved across the open floor, scanning faces with deliberate care.
He was looking for the specific set of Level 10 recruits he had marked during his last visit.
The ones who had stood at the top of this hall’s current hierarchy, the ones whose names and fighting styles he had already begun to map.
None of those faces were present.
He walked toward Theron without hurrying.
"Where is the Level 10 group?" Alex asked.
Theron inclined his head again, a fraction lower than before.
"They left earlier this morning, Your Highness."
"The schedules were already locked in weeks ago."
"They are expected to return tomorrow."
Alex’s expression tightened for a brief second.
The change was small, but it was there.
He had wanted to finish it today.
The plan had been clean: walk in, issue the challenge, settle the matter before the rest of the palace had time to turn it into a spectacle.
Waiting until tomorrow changed the shape of the situation entirely.
Word would travel.
People who only needed to hear the results would now have the chance to be present in person.
The clean credibility he wanted risked turning into a performance in front of an audience whose intentions he could not fully map yet.
That complication sat in his mind like a small, irritating stone.
Still, the goal itself had not changed.
"When they return." Alex said, voice calm but firm.
"Tell them the Third Prince wants to fight them."
"Make sure the message is clear and that there is no room for misunderstanding."
Theron held his gaze for a moment.
"As you command, Your Highness, I will pass the message the moment they return."
Internally, the instructor’s thoughts moved along a quieter and more complicated track.
He had expected this moment to arrive sooner or later.
The Third Prince had been carving his way upward through the ranks for years with a stubborn consistency that made the outcome feel almost inevitable.
Even so, Theron could not quite bring himself to believe the boy would actually win.
Alexander Abyss was still Level 0.
He had no publicly known element.
The Level 10 recruits standing on the edge of real deployment were different animals entirely.
The gap in formal class progression, accumulated combat hours, and battlefield preparation should have been decisive.
Yet the prince had issued the order without the slightest hesitation.
Alex turned away from Theron without further comment.
Zara fell into step beside him as they moved back toward the doors.
The hall remained quiet behind them until they crossed the threshold again.
Only then did the low murmur of resumed activity begin to return, cautious and subdued, as if the weight of the message had not yet fully lifted.
Outside, the corridor felt cooler.
Alex walked with the same steady pace he had used on the way in, but the slight tightness around his mouth had not fully left.
He did not like giving the palace time to assemble an audience.
The Level 10 recruits would return tomorrow.
He would be ready.
Zara stayed silent for several steps, reading the shift in his mood through the bond without needing to ask the obvious question.
When she finally spoke, her voice was quieter than usual.
"You wanted it done today."
"I did," Alex answered.
"Tomorrow changes the audience, but that is all, the fight itself stays the same, so I will adjust."
He did not elaborate further.
Zara already understood the difference between credibility earned in relative quiet and a result delivered in front of every watching pair of eyes the palace could assemble on short notice.
She simply matched his pace and let the silence settle again between them.
They continued down the long corridor.
Behind them the training hall slowly returned to its normal rhythm, but the message Alexander Abyss had left with Instructor Theron was already beginning its quiet journey through the rest of the complex.
Tomorrow the Level 10 recruits would return.
And the Third Prince would be waiting.
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End of Chapter 131: What Is The Proving?
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