Blood Elf Monarch

"Nooo!!!"

Tristan was horrified. The precious sword that has accompanied him all this time was cracked and chipped out.

What did he expect?

With such a crude idea and a stupid test, one of the swords was bound to break.

Master Laril approached him and took the cracked claymore from his hands. She turned it around several times and studied each ridge intently.

"Hmm…"

"What is it, Master?" Tristan asked, and he approached his master, trying to get a closer look at the sword and determine what caught his master's eyes.

Although Tristan tried to be as casual as possible in front of her, deep down he was enraged and sad from witnessing what just happened. The sword had always been with him since he came to this world, and in a way it was a constant help in this chaotic world. He will make sure his master would be responsible for this outcome.

"Tristan," Master Laril placed the sword and said. "This material is very strong, dare I say even stronger than a Valerian Steel, but from the grains of its cracks, I can tell how crude the creator was."

The master blacksmith couldn't believe that such a great material was being treated so crudely.

"Tristan, just leave the weapon to me, and I will try to reforge the material and even maximize its quality. What do you think?"

"Yes, master. Please." Tristan nodded. Well, to be fair, that was the least she could do considering what she did to his blade. If he was lucky, maybe she would throw in some enchantment as well as a bonus.

"Alright then, just come back after you finish the gauntlet. We can talk more about this after I finish studying the material.

"Alright then, thank you, Master."

In the last few days, he didn't think about the upcoming gauntlet at all, his blacksmithing studies always leaving him tired by the time he was done. Though his Katra levels had indeed increased, he has no idea how much that would be of help tomorrow.

Either way, he has tried his best, and now, he has to make the best of whatever outcome he will be dealt with tomorrow. If there was anything that left an impression on him these few days, it was the benefit of staying calm in the face of an overwhelming situation. It made him more confident about the gauntlet.

Now that he thought about it, there was little chance the queen would actually kill him – even if she had indeed planned such a thing, she wouldn't do it that easily as he held some degree of importance in her prophecy. Besides, he had thought of a few tricks to win the gauntlet.

Finally, he said his farewells, looked at the sword one last time, and decided to return to his living quarters.

Along the way, he looked at the still barely setting sun and decided to take a small stroll through the streets of Vanyar. Though there were notable differences, in a way the Vanyar civilization is no different from its human counterparts. Enchanted crystals that hung along the streets had started to glow as night drew closer, illuminating the road in various colors.

The bustle of day was just starting to die down, people retreating back into their homes to recuperate from their daily business. Elves covered from head to toe with silver armor started to patrol in pairs.

He took note of a place seemingly frequented by many elves before returning to his quarters for real this time.

Inside his room, he took off his top and sat cross-legged on his rug to meditate on his third stage of Katra. The moment he closed his eyes, he could feel as if he became one with his surroundings. The cold air coming in from outside the balcony felt sharp and crisp. The softness of the rug beneath his feet, and the sounds of talking from afar, so far away from the smithy that stood atop the hill.

Time went by quickly while he was in the trance, and without him realizing it, the outside noises had died down and disappeared as everyone went to sleep. For a while, there was only him, the cold breeze, and his breathing.

Then, he could feel the presence of someone moving in his room. Their steps were slow at first, but they steadily became louder as they approached, pulling Tristan away from his trance.

Though the place was dark, and they were not quite close yet, Tristan knew who they were.

She was the arrogant princess. But, what was she doing sneaking around in the middle of the night like this?

He sensed her standing right in front of him and even heard the sound of her sword as she drew it and pointed it to his neck. Knowing she won't hurt him, Tristan decided to pretend to sleep.

"Wake up!"

Tristan pretended as if he was snapped away from his trance and slowly turned around.

"Whoa, whoa! What are you doing here, Princess!"

"You can't even sense my presence? How bad is your Katra, really, if you can't feel me coming!"

"Well," Tristan gave her a nonchalant shrug. "Maybe it was your sneaking skill that was great, Princess."

The princess frowned and pinched the bridge of her nose after hearing his casual answer.

"Stop it! Everything is a joke to you, isn't it?" She snapped.

"No, no… Of course not…" Tristan scratched his head. He was startled by her sudden outburst, but he was also quite amused. There is no reason to reject a nightly visit from a woman, especially one as ravishing as her.

"Alright, yes… So, what do you want, Princess?"

The princess took a deep breath and hesitated for a moment before sheathing her sword.

"I came here to get you out from Vanyar!"

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