"The winner is Zain." the Emperor proclaimed with a voice that echoed through the grand arena, leaving the audience in stunned silence.

  "Am I hearing right?" one nobleman murmured, his voice barely audible over the whispers of disbelief.

  "Yes, he was a bloody mess when he left." another replied, shaking his head in confusion.

  "Maybe he is just being acknowledged for the efforts he put up." a third suggested, trying to make sense of the unexpected outcome.

  "Yes, it must be so." the first nobleman agreed, still uncertain.

  As the murmurs of confusion spread like wildfire through the gathered spectators, the two princesses seated in the royal box exchanged bewildered glances.

  Claire, eyes wide with confusion, finally could not bear it any longer. She turned to her father, her voice trembling with a mix of bewilderment and indignation.

  "Father, why are you saying that boy won? It was clearly sister Rivera who won, right?"

  Hearing her younger sister's question, Rivera, smacked Claire lightly on the head, her frustration evident.

  "If Father thinks he won, then he won, okay! Don't question him. And don't forget that I was fighting Grade 3 Acolyte while being a Grade 9 myself. There was a clear difference in strength, yet I still struggled to defeat him. So, I won't call this my win."

  The audience, huddled under the ornate canopies and grandstands, couldn't help but murmur in agreement, finding Rivera's words to ring true.

  "Yes, although she won, it was a bitter win." an elderly woman remarked, her voice filled with a mix of admiration and pity.

  "Yeah, that kid was really good." a young man nodded, his eyes reflecting the respect he felt for Zain's valiant efforts.

  The audience again descended into a cacophony of discussions, their voices blending into a symphony of opinions and speculations. All this while, the Dukes stood with a quiet but mocking expression, their silence speaking volumes of their disdain.

  Rivera, sensing the tension and confusion in the air, looked at her father, the Emperor, seeking answers. His weathered face, lined with years of wisdom and rule, met her gaze with a sigh.

  "Rivera, do you really think you won?" the Emperor asked, his voice carrying the weight of his disappointment.

  This question left Rivera puzzled. From her perspective, the outcome had been clear.

  "Umm... If we talk about the outcome, then yes, I defeated Zain." she replied hesitantly, her confidence wavering.

  The Emperor's face fell, his disappointment palpable.

  "Rivera... Haaa... I thought you had great intellect, but today you have disappointed me." he said, his voice heavy with disheartenment.

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  "But why, Father?" Rivera asked, panic creeping into her voice. This was the first time her father had ever sounded so disheartened with her.

  "Rivera, you clearly lost the battle and still say you won. Look at your neck." the Emperor instructed, his tone stern but fatherly.

  Rivera's hand quickly went to her jade-like neck. She immediately felt two rough lines on her skin, her face turning pale as realization dawned.

  Claire also noticed. "Sister, there are two scratch marks on your skin." she said, her voice tinged with concern.

  Rivera's face immediately turned ashen, her mind racing to understand how she had overlooked such a critical detail.

  "Silly girl, do you think his last attack was just a fake show?" the Emperor continued. "He allowed your long sword to pierce his shoulder so you could remain in one place. Then he attacked with his daggers. Those scratches are from his daggers."

  "If he went through with that attack, you would have lost your head. Rivera, you looked down on your opponent, thinking he was injured and low level. It bit you back."

  "In a real battlefield, the result would've been completely different. Although Zain was gravely wounded, you would've lost your life, with him having the last laugh."

  "I hope you will reflect on yourself and let this be a life lesson. Now, with your increased history lessons, there will be moral lessons when we return to the capital for all of you."

  Claire, her eyes brimming with tears, could hardly believe what she was hearing. This trip, which she had thought would be a fun adventure, had turned into a nightmare. First, she was ridiculed, then slapped, and now there were extra study lessons awaiting her upon their return.

  And if this wasn't enough, she would have to bear the wrath of her siblings for sharing her punishment of more study lessons with them.

  'Why did I even come here?' she thought, her heart heavy with regret.

  While Claire was sad, Rivera was also upset but for a different reason.

  'How could I have dropped my guard? And why is Zain so ruthless to even sacrifice his body for a mere friendly match? Master was right; I am not mentally strong enough.' she reflected, her mind swirling with self-reproach.

  The Emperor, seeing his daughter in such distress, softened his tone, reacting with a fatherly tenderness.

  "Rivera, don't dwell on defeats. They are bound to happen. Instead, take them as a lesson." he said, patting her head gently.

  With that, the Emperor went ahead and announced the end of the ceremony, as everyone important in the Gremory Dukedom went to check on Zain's condition.

  The remaining servants of the Gremory Dukedom quickly went ahead with their duties, their footsteps echoing through the grand halls as they marked the end of Zain's coming-of-age ceremony.

  ____________________

  In Zain's room, he lay on the bed, his body wrapped in bandages, but a satisfied smile played on his lips. The room was dimly lit, the flickering candles casting long shadows on the walls, creating an atmosphere of quiet reverence.

  "This idiot kid..." Izark muttered, pacing around the room with restless energy, his face a mask of worry and frustration.

  Raina and Morris were also in the room, their expressions mirroring the tension in the air.

  "Milord, Miss Raina is here. We should go back to the end of the ceremony." Morris suggested, his voice calm but firm. He had already tried to convince Izark to return to the ceremony and see off the guests as his duty as host, but Izark had stubbornly refused to leave Zain's side.

  "I said no, Morris. In fact, you should go and look over the affairs." Izark replied, his voice edged with irritation.

  Seeing Izark's disinterest in anything but Zain's condition, Morris took it upon himself to leave the room and sustain the Dukedom's workings in Izark's absence, his steps purposeful and determined.

  After Morris left, Izark turned his frustration on the healer sitting by Zain's bed.

  "Harris, what are you doing? When will he wake up?" Izark demanded, his voice tinged with desperation.

  "Duke Izark, I have tried my best. He has overexerted himself. His inner force is a mess. It will take a long period of time for him to recover. It's already good enough that he didn't die." Harris explained, his tone professional but sympathetic.

  "He should be waking up soon, but he will have to endure pain for a period of time before his body fully heals. But I commend the young master's ruthlessness; even in an all-out battlefield, there are many who hesitate to fight with their life." Harris added, his admiration for Zain's tenacity evident.

  Saying this, Harris left the room, his footsteps echoing softly in the quiet.

  "What commendable? This is foolishness. What good is a battle won when one loses his life?" Izark raged, his frustration boiling over.

  There were also two children in the room, their eyes wide with worry and fear.

  "Sister Raina, will Zain be okay?" Lilith asked, her voice a timid whisper as she clung to her brother Draig.

  Raina looked at them and gave a weak smile, trying to offer some comfort.

  "Of course, he will be fine." she said, her voice gentle and reassuring.

  This, however, attracted Izark's ire once more.

  "You two, it was bad enough that Zain was out of line, and you became his partners in crime." he began, his voice rising.

  "But it was her who insulted Zain fir..." Lilith started to explain, but Izark cut her off.

  "I don't want to hear it! That's why I was against you two being with Zain." he snapped, his anger flaring.

  Lilith and Draig had tears in their eyes, their small bodies trembling with fear and confusion. Just then, a familiar voice broke the tension.

  "Cough... Hey, old man, don't... Cough... Yell at them." Zain's weak but defiant voice called out.

  "Zain!" everyone in the room exclaimed, their relief palpable.

  The atmosphere in the room shifted, the tension easing as they gathered around Zain, their faces filled with a mixture of relief and concern.