Single for Eternity

A wave of murmurs rippled through the banquet hall the moment the golden scoreboard materialized, floating above us like an otherworldly relic.

Names shimmered across the screen in a language that seemed ancient yet perfectly legible—an arcane tongue I somehow understood. There were a hundred names in total, each paired with a numerical counter sitting at zero.

My name sat humbly in the 63rd spot: Einar Sanguis - 00

A few people glanced my way when they noticed it. Nothing too overt. Some squints of confusion, a few smirks of dismissal. I could practically hear the silent assumptions: Oh, that’s the ’useless’ Sanguis kid.

I was getting real tired of people underestimating me.

Then the golden-haired man raised his hand again, and the murmurs died down like someone had pressed a mute button. His violet eyes scanned the crowd like he was choosing who’d live and who’d die next.

"Welcome," he said, his voice infused with strange power. "To the Sovereign’s Trial—the yearly proving ground for the next generation of rulers."

So it really is a competition.

The man continued. "You have been chosen, not simply for your bloodline, but for your potential. The top ten will be elevated to a place of true power. The bottom ten... will be exiled."

The room fell into stunned silence. Even the nobles, who had once held wine with elegance and pride, were frozen in place.

"Exiled?" someone muttered.