Alex turned his head slightly toward Zara.
"Give me my weapon."
The words were quiet, but they carried cleanly across the short distance.
Zara stepped forward without hesitation.
She opened the Viper’s Spine box with a practiced motion and lifted the segmented blade free.
The weapon caught the light of the hall in a way ordinary steel did not.
The shiny metal segments sat tight and precise along the length, the design unlike anything most of the watching crowd had seen outside of rumors and second-hand descriptions.
She handed it to him hilt-first.
Alex took the Viper’s Spine.
The weight settled into his grip with the familiar balance he had spent years refining through stone drills, current resistance, and endless repetition.
The unique design drew open surprise from the audience almost immediately.
A low ripple of reaction moved through the observation platforms.
Many of the high-ranking spectators had heard that the Third Prince used a custom weapon.
Stories had circulated for years about the strange segmented blade that could extend mid-swing that accompanied him it in training.
Hearing the stories was one thing.
Seeing the weapon in person, held casually in the hand of a twelve-year-old who had just demanded to fight three Level 10 recruits at once, was different.
Someone on the Winterfang side muttered something under their breath about the craftsmanship and the expense of commissioning something so specialized.
A retainer near the Abyss section leaned forward for a clearer look, eyes tracking the segmented joints.
Even a few of the Bloodworth group allowed their gazes to linger on the blade longer than polite neutrality required.
The weapon itself had become another piece of the morning’s spectacle, another detail that would be written into the reports that left the hall later that day.
Alex ignored the reaction.
He turned and walked into the largest sparring circle in the center of the hall.
The packed floor accepted his weight without sound.
He stopped near the middle, the Viper’s Spine held loosely at his side for the moment, and faced the three recruits.
The three of them had not yet entered the circle.
They stood just outside the boundary line, speaking quietly among themselves.
Kael Veyne, the water user, spoke first.
His tone carried the solid confidence of someone who had already done the math in his head and liked the result.
"We should win this easily," he muttered.
"The Third Prince still has no class or element."
"Everyone in this hall knows that."
"Even if his attributes are higher than a normal Level 0 has any right to be, attributes alone do not bridge a ten-level gap against three trained element users."
"Water, shadow, and wind together should be more than enough."
"Especially three against one, there is no clean version of this where he walks out winning."
He shifted his grip on the short spear and added, almost as an afterthought, "Maybe we should even let him land a few strikes for appearance’s sake."
"The hall is full of eyes from every major household."
"No one wants it to look like we crushed a twelve-year-old without giving him any chance to show something."
"A little controlled exchange first, then we end it."
Dorian Shade, the shadow user, cut in immediately.
His voice was lower and sharper than Kael’s, the tone of someone who had already decided that underestimation was the real danger.
"Do not lower your guard, have you already forgotten the Level 9 he defeated? That was not a rumor that grew in the streets, it happened in this hall."
"Many recruit watched and reported it, if you treat him like a child who only has attributes and no real combat sense, you are going to get corrected in front of every household that matters."
"I am not interested in becoming part of the next story that spreads through the capital."
Kael brushed the warning aside with a small shake of his head.
"That recruit had only just entered Level 9 the day before, barely across the line."
"The gap between early Level 9 and solid Level 10 is not small, and we are three, so one lucky result against a fresh Level 9 does not mean he can handle coordinated elemental pressure from people who have already started deployment preparation."
"The difference is obvious."
Dorian’s eyes narrowed, he did not raise his voice, but the insistence in it was clear and unyielding.
"I am telling you to take it seriously, that is all, underestimate him if you want, but I will not, the rest is your decision."
Rylan Frost, the wind user, stayed quiet through the entire exchange.
He adjusted the position of his long flexible blade once, checked the distance to the circle boundary, and kept his focus on Alex.
Whatever private assessment he was running, he did not share it with the other two.
The tension in his shoulders remained, but it had settled into something tighter and more usable than the earlier nerves that had shown when the audience first filled the platforms.
Alex raised the Viper’s Spine into a ready stance.
The segmented blade lifted in a clean arc and settled in front of him, point angled slightly downward, grip firm without being locked.
The three recruits took their own stances in response.
Kael set his feet and brought the short spear up into a middle guard, water already beginning to gather faintly along the shaft in thin, controlled threads that caught the light.
Dorian’s hands settled on the hilts of his short blades without drawing them yet, his weight balanced on the balls of his feet, ready to move in any direction.
Rylan’s long blade came up in a light, flexible ready position, the tip tracing a small, restless arc in the air as he breathed out once through his nose and locked his attention forward.
Every eye in the hall fixed on the circle.
The observation platforms went still.
Conversations that had continued in low voices along the edges died completely.
The earlier whispers from Winterfang and Bloodworth faded into the same held silence.
Even the Abyss retainers leaned forward a fraction.
The weight of collective attention settled over the sparring floor like a physical pressure.
No one wanted to miss the first exchange.
Instructor Theron stepped to the edge of the circle.
His face remained tightly controlled.
He raised one hand, palm open, and looked from the three recruits to Alex and back again.
"Both sides," he said.
His voice carried cleanly across the quiet hall.
"Are you ready?"
All three recruits confirmed at once.
"Ready."
Alex’s answer came a half-beat later, calm and clear.
"Ready."
Theron held the raised hand for another second.
The silence in the hall stretched tight.
Somewhere on the Bloodworth platform Valerius’s smirk remained fixed in place, red eyes watching without blinking.
On the Abyss side no one moved.
The Winterfang officers watched intently.
Theron dropped his hand.
"Begin."
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End of Chapter 137: Begin
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