THE GENERAL'S DISGRACED HEIR

Ashley and Brian rode through the arched entrance of the bustling courtyard, their horses' hooves clacking rhythmically against the cobblestone. Nobles from the various branches of the De Gor bloodline mingled, their fine attire glinting in the sun.

Among them stood a cluster of commoner bastards, eager and determined, their eyes scanning the courtyard. These commoners had come with hopes of proving themselves, knowing that if their performance exceeded expectations, one of the noble branches might take notice. In rare cases, if a commoner's talent was extraordinary, they might even be adopted into a noble house, gaining not just a role, but a family name—a rare honor bestowed only in exceptional circumstances.

The air buzzed with quiet conversation and anticipation, but the tension that filled the space was unmistakable. Commoners glanced at the nobles with awe, while the nobles eyed each other with a mix of competition and pride, each sizing up their potential rivals.

As they reached the center of the courtyard, a stable lady, dressed in simple but neat attire, approached them with a respectful bow. "Good morning, my lords," she greeted them, her tone formal yet polite. "May I take your horses?"

Both dismounted, handing her the reins. Brian barely looked at her, his nose wrinkling in disdain. "Make sure my steed is well cared for, servant," he said sharply, as if the mere act of speaking to her was beneath him. His voice was haughty, filled with a sense of superiority.

Ashley's gaze flicked toward him, her brow furrowing slightly at his tone, though she kept her thoughts to herself. The stable lady, maintaining her professionalism, bowed again. "Yes, my lord," she said, her voice calm and steady. With a final nod, she led their horses away to the stables.

As the stable lady departed, Ashley couldn't hold back any longer. She turned to Brian, her voice laced with cool irritation. "Don't let your ego get the best of you, especially now. We're here to work together, remember?" Her father had warned her repeatedly—focus on the trials, avoid unnecessary distractions, and steer clear of conflict.

Brian's face twitched in irritation, clearly affronted by her words. His eyes narrowed as he sneered. "Stop acting so high and mighty, Miss Ashley. Unlike you, I have every right to act with confidence. My position justifies it."

Ashley shook her head, a sigh escaping her lips. She knew better than to argue with him, especially now, with so much at stake. The trials were just beginning, and the last thing she needed was a confrontation with Brian. The weight of the day ahead pressed heavily on her, reminding her to stay focused.

Without another word, the two nobles made their way through the courtyard, joining the throng of people who were waiting anxiously. Around them, whispers filled the air as everyone prepared for what was to come. The trials would soon begin, and in the end, only the strongest and most capable would emerge victorious.

****

From the grand castle doors, two mages—one of 2nd class, the other of 3rd class—stepped forward, their robes gently billowing in the soft morning breeze. Following closely behind them was David, his posture relaxed, seemingly unfazed by the whispers and glances from the gathered nobles.

The 2nd class mage, a tall figure with silver-tinged hair and an air of authority, turned to David and offered a reassuring smile. "Have no worries, Master David," he said, his voice smooth and confident. "Once we give our instructions, Ray here will guide you to where the candidates are gathered." He motioned to the 3rd class mage, Ray, who nodded in silent agreement.

As the trio descended the castle steps and came into full view of the nobles assembled in the courtyard, a ripple of disdain swept through the crowd. Faces twisted in contempt, whispered insults passed between lips. Brian, always quick to mock, leaned toward Ashley with a sneer. "Oi, oi, isn't that the trash of the family?" he asked sarcastically, his tone dripping with scorn.

Ashley didn't bother to hide her distaste, her gaze narrowing as she observed David from a distance. "It appears to be the patriarch's last son indeed," she agreed, her voice cold and indifferent, mirroring Brian's derision.

The nobles around them shared their sentiment, their disapproving gazes locking onto David like vultures circling prey. It was clear what they all thought:

What is he doing here? Why would the useless son of the De Gor family attend such an important ceremony?

"Such a waste of time," one noble muttered under his breath, his arms crossed as he eyed David with disdain.

Another noble, standing a few paces away, chuckled darkly. "The more fodder there is, the better our chances will be."

Despite the venomous words floating through the air, David remained unbothered. His hands rested casually on the back of his head as he trailed behind the two mages, paying no mind to the hateful stares or biting comments.

Dressed simply in a light brown shirt layered beneath a leather combat vest, and plain black pants, David's appearance seemed far less impressive compared to the elaborate attire of the other nobles. His build was lean, his armor light, designed for agility rather than brute force. But to the onlookers, his choice of attire only reinforced their cruel assumptions—that the De Gor family had tossed him the weakest armor because he was nothing but a failure.

Yet, David moved with a quiet confidence, his steps steady, his posture relaxed. To those who didn't know better, he seemed like an afterthought in this grand ceremony. But David wasn't here to prove himself to these nobles, nor did he care for their opinions. His presence, though scoffed at by many, would soon turn the tide in ways they could never have predicted. The whispers would soon fall silent, and the true weight of his role would reveal itself.

"Listen up!" Ray's voice rang out across the courtyard, sharp and commanding, cutting through the low murmurs of the gathered nobles and commoners alike. His gaze swept over the crowd, a mix of disappointment and frustration in his eyes. If only they knew what kind of monster David truly was, Ray thought to himself.

Ray had been one of the few chosen by Mage Marvel to assist David in rooting out the spies hidden within the noble houses. Initially, Ray had his doubts about the young master. David had always been an enigma to many, often dismissed as a failure, the weakest link of the prestigious De Gor family. But when Ray saw him in action for the first time, his perceptions had changed drastically. David's confidence, his ability to read the battlefield, and his sharp, strategic mind were nothing short of extraordinary. In those moments, David wasn't just another noble—he was the spitting image of his father, a natural-born leader capable of commanding troops as if he had been leading battalions his entire life.

"I shall guide you all to your quarters, prepared by the Earl," Ray continued, his tone cold and devoid of the politeness many might expect. Unlike the nobles, mages were immune to the influence of status and authority, a privilege bestowed upon them by the queen and the third mage king. Ray didn't need to bow to any lord or lady, and he made that clear with his brusque demeanor. "Make haste and gather at the designated spot," he ordered without the slightest hint of deference.

Without wasting any time, Ray raised his hand and cast a spell. A gentle shimmer spread across the courtyard, enveloping everyone in the crowd. Within seconds, glowing spirit birds materialized, each one hovering in front of a participant, their delicate wings fluttering like whispers of light. These birds were their guides, leading them to the quarters where they would rest and prepare for the upcoming trials.

The commoners, unable to contain their excitement, marveled at the display. "Wow, is this really magic?" one whispered in awe, their eyes wide with fascination. For many, this was their first encounter with such high-level sorcery, and it left them breathless.

In contrast, the nobles, ever unimpressed by what they considered simple parlor tricks, scoffed at the display. They followed the spirit birds with an air of indifference, brushing off the magic as if it were beneath them. Their arrogance blinded them to the deeper intricacies of Ray's spellwork.

"Right this way, Master David," Ray said, turning to David with a nod. Despite his earlier commands, Ray's tone softened when addressing him. The bond between them, forged in secrecy and shared purpose, was undeniable.

David, still nonchalant and indifferent to the whispers and judgments of the crowd, followed Ray without a word. He wasn't here for the approval of the nobles, nor did he care for their scorn. His true purpose lay ahead, far beyond the idle mockery of those who underestimated him. Soon enough, they would realize just how wrong they were.

****

A/N: As mentioned, mages, even those from commoner backgrounds, were not required to follow or show respect to noble status, though there were certain limits to this freedom. For instance, if a first-circle mage were to meet with a King swordman, they would be expected to display a measure of courtesy due to the vast difference in strength, and the same would apply in reverse. This mutual respect was established through an agreement between the Third Mage King and the current queen, honoring the scholars of magic. Magic, being a field of innovation, had a profound influence across various domains, including warfare.