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    <b>[Location: Leoncrest Castle - Tower 1]


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    <b>[Date: October 29, y. 485 of the Fourth Age]</b>


    The next few days passed in a blur of preparation. Zeke spent every spare moment in the training yard, practicing with different weapons and working on his aura control.


    Each morning he rose before dawn, slipping out to run laps around the inner courtyard while most students still slept. Each evening he collapsed into bed with aching muscles, only to start again the next day.


    "You''re going to wear yourself out before the trial even begins," Ralph commented one night, watching Zeke practice sword forms in their room.


    "Better tired than unprepared," Zeke replied, executing a perfect thrust-parry-slash combination that Victoria had taught him. The wooden practice sword whistled through the air.


    On the night before the trial, just as Zeke was settling into bed, a golden envelope slipped silently under their door. No messenger, no footsteps in the hall - just the silent arrival of a letter bearing the wax seal of the Academy.


    "What''s that?" Ralph asked, looking up from the throwing star he''d been polishing.


    Zeke picked up the envelope, noting its weight and the quality of the paper. "Must be about the next Trial."


    He broke the seal and unfolded the parchment inside. The message was brief, written in flowing script:


    "You are invited to the Dueling Arena for your next Trial. It will begin at 9:00 sharp. Headmistress Florence."


    Ralph bounded across the room, peering over Zeke''s shoulder. "Well? What''s it say? Do you know what the Trial is going to be?"


    "Dueling Arena tomorrow at nine," Zeke said, turning the note over to see if there was anything else. "The Headmistress mentioned something about a sparring match when I talked to her, but I can''t imagine a Trial would be that simple."


    "Nothing''s ever simple at Leoncrest," Ralph flopped back on his bed, tossing his throwing star toward the ceiling. It stuck with a soft thunk. "Remember when Professor Harkin said we''d have a ''simple'' exercise in basic alchemy? Jensen''s eyebrows still haven''t grown back."


    Zeke laughed, tucking the letter into his desk drawer. "True enough."


    "Want me to come watch tomorrow?" Ralph asked, pulling the star free and spinning it on his finger. "I could skip Professor Merton''s lecture. Not like I understand half of what he says anyway."


    "Better not," Zeke replied. "No sense both of us getting in trouble. Besides, if I fail, I wouldn''t want an audience."


    "You won''t fail," Ralph said with surprising seriousness. "You''ve been working harder than anyone I''ve ever seen."


    "Hope you''re right," Zeke said, blowing out the candle beside his bed. "Well, I''d better get some sleep. Big day tomorrow."


    "G''night then," Ralph yawned. "Try not to worry too much."


    He was asleep before his head fully settled on the pillow, leaving Zeke alone with his thoughts in the darkened room. Sleep didn''t come easy.


    His mind kept racing through all the weapons training he''d done with Victoria over the past weeks, wondering what challenges awaited him.


    Would it be a one-on-one duel? A test of accuracy with ranged weapons? Perhaps some bizarre Leoncrest twist, like fighting blindfolded or with one hand tied behind his back? There was no way to know until he faced it.


    Eventually, he drifted into an uneasy sleep, dreaming of swords that turned to snakes in his hands and armored opponents whose faces kept changing.


    Morning arrived with the tolling of the Academy bell. Zeke was already awake, staring at the ceiling beams. He''d been up since before dawn, mentally rehearsing what Victoria had taught him about each weapon.


    He rose quietly, careful not to wake Ralph, and splashed cold water on his face from the basin. The shock helped clear the fog of restless sleep.


    He strapped on his lightest training gear - no sense weighing himself down with heavy armor that might restrict his movement.


    His stomach growled, but he ignored it. Better to fight hungry than sluggish from a heavy meal.


    The halls were unusually quiet as he made his way toward the Dueling Arena. Most students would be in their morning classes, unaware that his future at Leoncrest hung in the balance today.


    A few early risers nodded to him as he passed, but no one stopped him to chat.


    The stillness was almost eerie. Zeke could hear his own footsteps echoing off the stone walls, could feel his heartbeat quickening with each step closer to the arena.


    Not from fear, he told himself. From anticipation.


    As he rounded a corner near the western quadrant, Victoria appeared from a side corridor, holding a small wooden plate of dried fruits, nuts, and a chunk of hard cheese.


    "Thought you might need some fuel," she said, falling into step beside him. "Can''t fight on an empty stomach."


    "Always looking out for me," Zeke grinned, grabbing a handful of nuts. The salt and protein were exactly what he needed. "Thanks."


    Victoria wore her practice gear - black and crimson leathers that matched her fiery red hair. She''d pulled it back in a tight braid today, a style Zeke had learned meant she was expecting serious business.


    "You''re going to crush this today," she said with unwavering confidence. "All that training is about to pay off."


    "It better," Zeke laughed, popping another nut into his mouth. "Or this is the last time you''ll see me in these halls."


    "Don''t even joke about that," Victoria nudged his shoulder hard enough to make him stumble. "You''re not going anywhere except through those doors to victory."


    They continued down the corridor, Victoria quizzing him on proper sword grips and the balance points of different weapons as they walked. It was her way of keeping his mind focused, preventing pre-fight jitters from setting in.


    "Remember what I told you about polearms," she said as they descended a wide staircase. "The key is—"


    "Control the distance," Zeke finished for her. "Keep them at the end of your reach, never let them inside your guard."


    "And with a mace?"


    "Commit to each swing. The power is in the follow-through."


    Victoria nodded approvingly. "See? You''ve got this."


    They soon reached the Dueling Arena, located in the southwest corner of the castle grounds. Unlike most of Leoncrest''s towers and halls, which soared upward in elegant spires, the arena was a wide, squat building of dark stone.


    Ancient banners hung from its walls, faded with age but still bearing the crests of noble houses who had sponsored its construction centuries ago.


    Zeke pushed open the heavy oak doors, which swung inward with surprising ease. He whistled in appreciation at what lay beyond.


    The space was massive - a vast indoor room with tiered seating surrounding a central fighting area large enough for tournaments or group melees. Despite having no windows on its exterior walls, the room was bathed in natural light.


    An elaborate system of mirrors and skylights channeled sunshine down from openings in the ceiling, creating a bright but shadowless illumination perfect for combat.


    「?????????????? ??????????」


    【Location of legendary contests】


    【First constructed: 312 years ago】


    【Renovated: 5 times】


    【Notable duel: The Clash of Seven Houses, 174 FE】


    The arena floor was covered in fine white sand that would provide good footing while cushioning falls. Dark stains in some areas suggested that not all of those falls had ended without bloodshed.


    Zeke''s eyes were immediately drawn to a large weapons rack along one wall. Dozens of  swords of various lengths and styles, spears, maces, halberds, shields, bows, and several weapons he couldn''t even name.


    Each was polished to a mirror shine, with dangerous edges.


    In the center of the arena stood a knight in polished black armor, idly twirling a longsword with practiced ease. The figure''s face was completely hidden behind a full helmet crafted to resemble a skull, giving no clue to their identity.


    Sunlight reflected off the obsidian plates, making them seem to shift and move like liquid shadow.


    "That''s some impressive armor," Zeke murmured to Victoria. "Never seen anything like it."


    "House Minziar forges," Victoria replied quietly. "The black is from a special quenching process. They say it takes three master smiths working in tandem to create a single set."


    As they approached the edge of the arena, Headmistress Florence materialized from the shadows beneath the tiered seating. Her crimson and gold robes seemed to catch the light differently than everything else in the room, creating an unsettling effect.


    She swept between Zeke and the arena with surprising speed.


    "I''m sorry, but there can be no contact between the contestant and the knight before the Trial begins," she stated firmly, her thin lips pressed into an even thinner line.


    "No problem," Zeke held up his hands in a peaceful gesture. "I wasn''t planning anything. I just wanted to get the details about what I''ll be doing."


    "Certainly," Headmistress Florence replied, her voice cool. "The task is quite simple, though extremely difficult. You will enter the ring and choose a weapon from the rack.


    You will then duel the knight, who has been provided by the royal garrison in the Capital. He will test your proficiency with the chosen weapon and determine whether you pass or fail.


    You must prove yourself proficient in five different weapons to complete the Trial."


    "Five different weapons?" Victoria''s jaw dropped. "That''s insane! Most first-years barely master one, let alone five!"


    "These Trials are not intended for the faint of heart or the merely adequate," the Headmistress turned to Zeke with a pointed look. "If you don''t feel up to the challenge, of course..."


    The unspoken invitation to withdraw hung in the air between them. Zeke could almost taste her desire to see him quit, to admit defeat before he''d even begun.


    "I''m ready," he said firmly, meeting her gaze without flinching. The challenge was daunting, but he wasn''t about to back down now. "Let''s do this."


    "Of course," she said, something flickering behind her eyes - disappointment, perhaps? "We will begin in three hours'' time. You may use that period to prepare, if you wish."


    She turned and glided away toward a small door at the far end of the arena, her robes making no sound as she moved.


    Zeke exhaled slowly, then exchanged glances with Victoria. She still looked shocked, but quickly regained her composure.


    "Three hours gives us time," she said decisively. "That knight isn''t going to go easy on you. Anyone hand-picked for this won''t pull punches."


    "I wouldn''t want them to," Zeke replied, rolling his shoulders. He''d rather face a real challenge than be coddled. "A pass means nothing if it''s just handed to me."


    "That''s the spirit," Victoria nodded approvingly. "Alright, let''s make a plan. Those weapons look standard, but we should check what''s available. I wonder if we can test them beforehand?"


    "Probably best not to push our luck," Zeke said, eyeing the Headmistress''s retreating form. "Just looking at what''s available should be enough."


    If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    "Where''s Elise?" Victoria asked suddenly, scanning the empty seats. "I asked her to meet us here."


    As if summoned by her name, the door behind them swung open and Elise hurried in, slightly out of breath and carrying a large cloth bag.


    "Sorry I''m late," she panted, dropping the bag at their feet. "Getting these wasn''t easy."


    Victoria quickly explained the Trial''s requirements as Elise caught her breath.


    "Five weapons? That''s..." Elise trailed off, looking at Zeke with concern.


    "A challenge," Zeke finished for her with a confident grin. "But nothing we can''t handle."


    "That''s the attitude," Victoria nodded approvingly. She turned to Elise. "Did you get everything I asked for?"


    "Most of it," Elise replied, opening the bag to reveal a collection of training weapons - wooden swords, a staff standing in for a spear, a wooden mace, and several other practice implements. "Professor Harkin caught me trying to take the bow, though."


    "This is perfect," Victoria said. "Let''s find a place to work. We''ve got three hours to prepare for five weapons."


    They located a small antechamber off the main arena floor - likely a preparation room for duelists in tournaments. For the next three hours, Victoria proved to be a demanding teacher, drilling Zeke on proper grips, stances, and basic strikes for every weapon in Elise''s bag.


    The wooden sword was familiar territory - they''d trained with it extensively over the past weeks. Victoria focused instead on helping him identify the strengths and weaknesses of the other weapons.


    "The key is understanding the purpose of each weapon," she explained while demonstrating a proper spear grip. "A spear gives you reach - keep your opponent at a distance and use quick thrusts. Never let them inside your guard."


    She moved to a mace. "This is about raw power, not speed. Let the weight do the work. Use your whole body weight to add force to each swing. Remember - one good hit is worth more than ten misses."


    Elise stepped in to help with the staff, which could stand in for several polearms. "My father taught me some staff techniques for defending our farm," she explained. "It''s all about control and leverage, not strength."


    The bow seemed simplest until Victoria laughed at his confidence. "Shooting at a stationary target is nothing like a duel," she warned. "An opponent won''t stand still while you draw your arrow. You''ll need to get creative."


    "What about the buckler?" Elise asked, holding up a small round shield she''d included in her collection.


    Victoria considered it. "Defensive only, usually paired with a short sword. But..."


    "But what?" Zeke asked, taking the small shield and testing its weight.


    A sly smile crossed Victoria''s face. "Well, your particular... talent... with projectiles might be useful there. Remember your aura infusion class?"


    Zeke laughed, recalling the chaos he''d caused. "Hard to forget."


    "Maybe worth keeping in mind," Victoria said. "As a last resort."


    By the end of their improvised training session, Zeke had basic familiarity with seven different weapons. His arms ached and sweat soaked his tunic, but he felt more prepared than he had any right to be given the circumstances.


    "Time''s up, Godfrey!" Headmistress Florence called from the doorway, her voice cutting through their conversation. "Your Trial begins now."


    Zeke took a deep breath and caught Victoria''s eye. She gave him a firm nod.


    "Remember," she said. "Play to your strengths. And if all else fails, get creative."


    Elise squeezed his arm. "You''ve got this."


    Zeke strode into the arena, feeling the eyes of his friends on his back. The sand crunched beneath his boots as he walked.


    He glanced up at the tiered seating and noticed a few figures had appeared - faculty members there to observe, probably. None of the seats reserved for students were filled. This was not meant to be a public spectacle.


    He climbed over the low railing separating the seating area from the fighting floor and approached the center. The black knight turned to face him, armor  without a single visible seam or joint.


    The mystery warrior said nothing, simply drawing a longsword with a fluid motion and assuming a ready stance.


    "The duration of this fight will depend entirely upon the testing knight!" Headmistress Florence announced from the sidelines, her voice carrying easily in the arena''s perfect acoustics.


    "If Zeke fails with any particular weapon, he cannot try again with that same weapon, but may attempt another. You must succeed with five out of the twenty available weapons to complete this Trial. Any questions?"


    Zeke shook his head, studying his opponent carefully. The knight''s posture revealed nothing - no favored side, no obvious weaknesses. Just perfect balance and poise that spoke of years of dedicated training.


    "In that case, begin!"


    Zeke strode confidently to the weapons rack. Starting with what he knew best made sense.


    He selected a sword similar in size and weight to his training blade - not too heavy, with a simple crossguard and straight double-edged blade. The grip fit his hand comfortably, and he gave it a few experimental swings as he returned to the center of the arena.


    The black knight raised his own sword in acknowledgement. For a long moment, they stood watching each other, measuring, calculating...


    Then the knight moved.


    Zeke had never seen anyone so fast. The black blade became a blur, slicing through the air toward his head. Pure instinct took over, his body reacting before his mind could process the attack.


    His sword rose to block - once, twice, three times in rapid succession. The sound of steel on steel rang out in sharp, clear notes that echoed through the arena.


    The knight suddenly stopped and stepped back, lowering his weapon.


    "What?" Headmistress Florence blinked in surprise from the sidelines. "So quick?"


    "In the real world, fights are decided in the blink of an eye," the knight replied, voice muffled but distinctly male behind his helmet.


    "Very few first-year students could have blocked that attack sequence. If I hadn''t known he only began training recently, I would consider him one of the most skilled swordsmen of his class."


    "But to truly test—" the Headmistress began, her voice rising with indignation.


    "I was chosen for my expert opinion," the knight interrupted sharply. "I command the highest-rated unit in the entire Capital. I know what makes a knight a knight.


    What you just saw is how I test anyone who would enter my ranks. That much, and no more. Now, if you wish to release me from this service, do so. Otherwise, respect my judgment."


    The Headmistress nodded stiffly, her lips pressed into a bloodless line. The knight turned back to Zeke.


    "The point of this test is to evaluate you, not wear you out," he stated matter-of-factly. "It will not be an endurance test, but you will have no second chances. Choose your next weapon."


    One down, four to go. Zeke returned the sword to the rack, feeling a surge of confidence. The first pass had been easier than expected, but he knew better than to get cocky.


    He scanned his options for the next attempt.


    The spear had seemed easiest of the unfamiliar weapons during his brief training. He selected a long ash shaft tipped with  steel and returned to the center.


    The weapon was lighter than he expected, perfectly balanced for quick thrusts and parries.


    The knight studied his stance for a moment, then attacked with blinding speed. Zeke rotated the spear to block, but the knight simply slapped the weapon aside and brought the blade to a stop an inch from Zeke''s neck.


    "And you''re dead," the knight stated flatly. "Fail."


    Zeke nodded, accepting the judgment without complaint. One success, one failure. He returned the spear to the rack and surveyed his options again, his mind racing.


    Victoria had warned him that spears were difficult in one-on-one duels against experienced swordsmen. He should have chosen something with more versatility.


    The mace caught his eye - a flanged metal head on a sturdy wooden handle. Victoria had emphasized that its raw power could force even skilled opponents to give ground.


    He lifted it, testing its weight, then walked back to face the knight.


    This time, Zeke positioned himself exactly as Victoria had shown him, holding the mace slightly above his shoulder, weight balanced on the balls of his feet. The knight gave a small nod of recognition.


    After a brief pause, the black warrior charged straight ahead. Zeke swung the mace in a powerful arc, the heavy metal head whistling through the air.


    The knight halted his advance, unwilling to test his blade against the crushing force of the mace. Taking advantage of the moment, Zeke stepped back then lunged forward, using the momentum of the heavy weapon to drive toward his opponent.


    The knight avoided the attack with a backward step, then nodded.


    "Pass."


    "Pass?" Headmistress Florence objected from the sidelines. "He looked completely awkward out there!"


    "As would anyone wielding a mace against a swordsman," the knight replied sharply. "It''s a weapon for jailers and barbarians, a last resort when all else fails.


    He made me retreat twice because he recognized the danger of blocking such a blow directly. He showed proper technique for the weapon''s purpose. Pass."


    Two successes, one failure. Zeke was feeling more confident as he returned the mace and considered his next choice. The bow and quiver of arrows seemed promising - Victoria had given him a clever strategy for dueling with it.


    He took position in the center, nocking an arrow but keeping the bow relaxed. The knight tensed visibly, preparing to charge the moment Zeke drew back the string.


    Zeke made a show of beginning to draw the bow. As expected, the knight immediately rushed forward. Instead of completing the draw, Zeke released the string and swung the bow like a club.


    The sudden change in tactics caused the knight to hesitate for just an instant. In that moment, Zeke lunged forward, wielding the arrow in his other hand like a dagger.


    The knight caught his wrist before the strike could land, easily disarming him of the arrow, but then laughed.


    "Pass!"


    Three successes, one failure. Only two more to go. Zeke''s spirits lifted as he returned to choose his fourth weapon, feeling Victoria and Elise''s eyes on him from the sidelines.


    The rapier seemed promising - a slender, elegant blade designed for precision thrusts. But its techniques proved too different from what he''d learned. The knight disarmed him in seconds - a clear fail.


    Next came a curved scimitar. This too resulted in quick defeat, the unfamiliar balance throwing off Zeke''s timing.


    Zeke tried the cat-o''-nine-tails next, more out of curiosity than confidence. The multi-tailed whip tangled around his own arm rather than striking his opponent, causing several spectators to chuckle.


    "Perhaps this will be over even quicker than I imagined," Headmistress Florence commented from the sidelines, her voice dripping with satisfaction.


    Three successes, four failures. The pressure was mounting. Zeke wiped sweat from his brow and turned back to the weapon rack, his confidence wavering.


    He needed to think carefully about his next choice.


    A heavy war hammer caught his eye - a metal head with a spike on one side and a flat crushing surface on the other. He hadn''t practiced with it specifically, but reasoned it might function similarly to the mace.


    He hefted it and returned to the center.


    His attack was clumsy - the hammer was heavier and more unwieldy than he''d anticipated - but he managed to use it to control the space between himself and the knight, forcing his opponent to respect the weapon''s crushing power.


    "Pass," the knight declared, to Zeke''s surprise.


    Four successes, four failures. One more to go, but Zeke was running out of weapons he had any idea how to use. If he failed again, that would be the end of his time at Leoncrest.


    Everything he''d worked for, his promise to Artax, his family''s honor - all of it hung on this final choice.


    The knight twirled his sword impatiently in the center of the arena. Zeke scanned the remaining weapons, searching for something, anything that might give him a chance.


    Then his eyes fell on a small item tucked between larger weapons - a round metal buckler, its surface polished to a mirror shine. Victoria''s words echoed in his mind: "Your particular talent with projectiles might be useful..."


    A smile spread across his face as inspiration struck. He reached for the small shield and lifted it down. It weighed about five pounds - perfect for what he had in mind.


    Headmistress Florence raised an eyebrow. "That was intended as a companion to the weapons, not a weapon itself."


    "Are you going to let me try?" Zeke asked, meeting her gaze steadily.


    The Headmistress sighed. "Very well. If you wishto humiliate yourself, who am I to stop you?"


    Zeke nodded and walked confidently to the center. He could hear whispers from the few spectators, could feel Victoria and Elise holding their breath.


    He held the buckler in front of him as if preparing to use it defensively. The knight raised his sword, giving a small, almost respectful nod - one professional acknowledging another''s attempt.


    As the knight charged, Zeke channeled his aura into the buckler - the same technique that had sent crystal spheres flying across classrooms all semester. He focused on building pressure, compressing the energy into a tight coil within the metal.


    BLAM!


    The buckler launched from his hand like a cannonball, the compressed aura releasing all at once. It streaked across the arena and smashed directly into the knight''s helmet with a resounding crash that echoed through the entire hall.


    The impact sent the black-armored figure flying backward to crash onto the arena floor in a clatter of metal. The dented helmet rolled away, revealing the face of a fair-haired man with clear blue eyes.


    A collective gasp rose from the spectators. Concerned he might have actually injured his opponent, Zeke rushed forward. His left arm hung limp at his side, slightly numb from the backlash of his aura technique, but that was a minor concern compared to potentially hurting the knight.


    As Zeke knelt beside him, the man''s left hand shot out, gripping Zeke''s arm with surprising strength and pulling him close.


    "My name is Constantine," he whispered urgently, his breath smelling of blood. "I knew your brother. What happened to him was no accident. Do not let it happen to yourself too. Beware the Court."


    With that cryptic warning, he shoved Zeke away, rose to his feet, and spat out a mouthful of blood onto the white sand. Headmistress Florence stood, her face darkening with anger.


    "Now, if that isn''t one of the worst displays of sportsmanship I have ever seen!" she declared, her voice ringing through the arena. "Zeke de''Godfrey, you are hereby—"


    "PASS!" Constantine roared, cutting her off. The room fell silent as he spat another mouthful of blood onto the arena floor.


    "Name one other student who could weaponize a buckler like that. If I don''t return to my command post and immediately start training each of my soldiers to do the same, I''ve lost my mind.


    It was an incredible move - the sort of ingenuity only the greatest warriors possess. Pass."


    He stalked over, picked up his helmet and held it high to display the massive dent for all to see. Without another word, he hopped over the ropes and stormed out of the arena, blood still dripping from his mouth.


    The Headmistress stared after him, her expression unreadable but her knuckles white where she gripped the railing. After a long moment, she turned on her heel and swept away without acknowledging Zeke''s success.


    Zeke climbed out of the ring to find Victoria and Elise rushing forward to congratulate him.


    "That was incredible!" Elise exclaimed, eyes wide with admiration. "The way you launched that buckler - I''ve never seen anything like it!"


    "Unorthodox but effective," Victoria said with a proud smile. "Exactly what I''d expect from you." She examined his limp arm with a practiced eye. "That''s going to be sore tomorrow. The backlash from channeling that much aura needs control."


    "Worth it," Zeke grinned, flexing his fingers to get feeling back. "Five passes. I did it."


    "Never doubted you for a second," Victoria said, though the relief in her eyes suggested otherwise.


    As they made their way out of the arena, Elise lowered her voice. "The Headmistress really doesn''t like you. Did you see her face?"


    "No," Zeke admitted. "I was a bit preoccupied with the knight trying to skewer me."


    "She looked ready to explode when Constantine passed you on that last test," Elise said. "I think she was counting on you failing."


    "I''ll need to pay her a visit soon," Zeke said thoughtfully. "Whatever the Third Trial is, I should get details as early as possible if I want any chance of fair treatment."


    "Visit Adrian first," Elise suggested. "He can give you information she might try to withhold."


    "Good idea," Zeke nodded gratefully. "Thanks, both of you. I couldn''t have done this without your help."


    As they crossed the courtyard back toward the main castle, Zeke''s mind kept returning to Constantine''s warning. The Court? What could that mean? And what did he know about Artax''s injury?


    Questions for another time. For now, he''d celebrate this victory. He''d passed the Second Trial - something even his legendary brother had struggled with, according to the Headmistress.


    One more down, thirty-two to go. The path ahead would be difficult, but for the first time since arriving at Leoncrest, Zeke truly believed he could make it through all thirty-four Trials.


    After all, if he could turn a simple buckler into a weapon powerful enough to knock a seasoned knight off his feet, what couldn''t he do?


    As they reached the main hall, Victoria gave him a playful punch on his good shoulder. "So, buckler-thrower, ready for some lunch? You''ve earned it."


    "Starving," Zeke admitted with a grin. "Lead the way."


    Together, they headed toward the dining hall, his steps lighter than they''d been in weeks. Whatever challenges the remaining Trials might bring, he''d face them head-on - with a little help from his friends, and maybe a few more creative solutions along the way.


    <b>[Scene Close]</b>


    <b>[Earned Emblems:]


    Heart of the Warrior, Endurance</b>


    <b>[Active Quests:]


    [The Devil You Know: Speak with Adrian about the Third Trial]</b>


    <b>


    [The Devil You Don''t: Speak with Headmistress Florence about the Third Trial]</b>