Ken watched the battle with sharp focus, his eyes fixed on that small boy who fought with an unusual stubbornness. As he saw him staggering on his feet despite exhaustion and wounds, memories surged back—moments from his own training under Marshal Edward. He recalled vividly how he had fallen countless times, surrendering too easily, and how the Marshal's voice had thundered in his ears:

"You lack determination, boy! Where is that spirit that so desperately wanted to prove itself? Stand up… fight until your last breath!"

Ken snapped back to the present at the roar of the crowd. The boy had lunged forward with a strike at his opponent, Gario, but Gario deflected it with ease and countered with a heavier blow. The boy stumbled under its weight and fell to the ground, his defeat declared.

Gario smirked arrogantly and said:

 "Heh, finally, you've fallen."

Laughter and jeers rose from the spectators and knights, their mockery cutting deeper into the boy than the fall itself. At that moment, Ken quietly signaled to Marvin. Marvin nodded and strode confidently through the crowd, ignoring the puzzled and disdainful looks until he stood before the boy. His voice was firm as he called out:

 "You there… His Highness requests your presence."

A wave of murmurs swept through the audience, and even the boy himself froze in disbelief, uncertain what to make of it. Still, he followed Marvin hesitantly until he stood before Ken. Marvin ordered curtly:

 "Kneel. This is the prince."

The boy bent his knee, and Ken smiled faintly.

 "Thank you… you may stand. Boy, you've caught my eye among all these knights. Not because of your strength, nor your skill, nor even your experience… but because of your determination. Because of those eyes that refused to fall, even to the very end."

The boy's voice trembled, but carried sincerity:

 "Thank you, Your Highness."

Ken was silent for a moment, weighing his words, then said:

 "Now then… tell me your name."

The boy steadied himself and replied:

 "My name is Gray. I'm seventeen years old. I came from a distant city, hoping to win the prize… and to find work so I can support my family."

A brief silence followed, before a light smile curved Ken's lips.

 "Gray… how about I help you? But first, let us leave this place."

Ken rose from his seat and walked calmly toward the tournament official's tent, followed closely by Marvin and the boy. Upon entering, the official scrambled to his feet in surprise, bowing hastily.

 "Your Highness! What brings you here?"

Ken answered with a voice calm but edged with authority:

 "All I want is this young knight. And I request his matches be postponed until later."

One of the official's aides couldn't hold back a scoff.

 "But, Your Highness… I hardly think he's worth the trouble."

Ken's gaze shifted to the aide—sharp, serious, with a quiet fury beneath it. Then, a dangerous smile tugged at his lips as he spoke in a chilling tone:

 "Are you questioning my decision?"

The aide faltered, stammering:

 "N-no, Your Highness… I didn't mean—"

Ken cut him off coldly:

 "I'll forgive you… on one condition. You'll fight him. And if you lose, I'll see you thrown in prison for defying me."

Inside, the aide sneered arrogantly to himself. Heh… looks like escaping punishment will be easier than I thought. He must be underestimating me.

Lifting his head with forced bravado, he declared:

 "I accept."

chapter ends here.