As expected, the sheep weren’t very hard to tame.
All they needed was a push, and now, they were standing by like perfect guards.
Sure, they were not the strongest, but having survived through all the exams so far made them just that little bit more trustworthy.
As for Liam? Raelis tied him up and threw him inside the wine cellar beneath the throne room.
And now the only thing remaining was to—
The throne room’s doors swung open as a few people from the yellow team ran inside, some bloody, while others charred.
A couple were even missing, and that was when one of them stepped up and took off their helmet.
And of course, it was none other than Clea.
A bit of blood was trickling from her mouth, but it didn’t seem too serious.
"What happened?" Raelis asked, narrowing his eyes. "Did Zeri ambush you?"
"Red team has a cannonball. Their walls are heavily reinforced, and they even have ballistas," she stated, letting out a sigh. "It’s going to be very difficult for us to break through as a team."
But not as a duo. I see...
"Why did you get so close in the first place?" Raelis asked. "I thought I only told you to scout and watch the Blue team."
"And that’s exactly what we did," Clea replied, then turned her head and pointed at one blonde, muscular student in particular. "He decided to go out for a piss. Or that’s what he told us. But after a few minutes of being gone, it seemed like he actually went ahead to meet up with one of the red team’s scouts."
Raelis tilted his head. "So you brought back a rat?"
But Clea didn’t respond. The answer came in the form of what happened next.
The blonde man’s body began to morph, the familiar appearance of Ajax returning.
Resian waved his hand.
"It seems like the only way to eliminate other candidates is to capture them," Clea said flatly. "Eleven of us were captured while returning..."
Her sudden silence puzzled him. "What’s wrong?"
She lowered her head slightly. "Once a candidate is captured... they automatically join the enemy team. And from what I’ve gathered, if our team gets eliminated, anyone who was captured and switched sides won’t be eliminated with us, since they’d technically be a part of a different team."
"Hmm... I see," Raelis replied as he rose from the throne. "Let’s go on the offensive then."
The moment he uttered those words, silence ensued inside the throne room.
But that was when Charlotte stepped up, slamming her helmet down on the ground in frustration.
"Hey... we’re exhausted, and you’re telling us to go on the offensive?" she complained. "I get that you’re—"
Raelis’s words echoed throughout the throne room, as if binding all the people present.
The yellow banners fluttered, and the throne room’s doors suddenly closed shut.
"I was chosen as the King at random," Raelis muttered, narrowing his eyes. "But me being looked down upon is really starting to get old. Let me finish my words next time."
He glanced at all the candidates present.
"The twenty-two of you who remain here, there is a feast for you waiting in the dining hall," he said, stepping down the miniature steps as he approached the throne room’s door.
"I am taking the remaining nineteen people and myself to gauge the battlefield and capture some candidates," Raelis added. "We are behind. And we, out of everyone, received the least advanced castle in this entire exam."
He stepped in front of the throne room’s doors, tilting his head toward the ’soldiers.’
"So rest well... that is all."
After all, once everyone was no longer tired, he was planning on ending this exam.
Capture the Blue team’s King and Queen, then move on to the Green team, and finally, take the Red team out of commission.
But before he could step through the doors and leave for the battlefield, a cold yet determined voice rang out.
Raelis stopped, turning around.
The voice belonged to Clea.
"Are you using your single objection on this?" he mused.
"It’s a bad idea," Clea replied, walking closer. "Do you think that healing potions heal mental fatigue? Do you seriously expect them to willingly wake up tomorrow and march onto the battlefield?"
"While this is an exam, it decides our future, Clea," Raelis said coldly. "I expect them to pour their heart and soul into this, since that’s exactly what I am doing."
A faint frown appeared on his face, but as he was about to voice his thoughts, she raised a single finger, silencing him.
"You’re not relying on the people, you’re relying on us."
Clea pointed to herself, then to him.
She leaned in with an exhausted look.
"You expect us to deal with all these problems alone. Why? Just because we’re a little clever? A little sneaky? That’s not enough, not when we’re outnumbered, and not allowed to kill," she added, her gaze sharpening.
"So all this idea of yours would do is set us down a path of destruction. We might be able to take in some new candidates, but then what? Who says they’re going to be loyal to us? What if they purposely infiltrate our ranks just to deal with our tired soldiers? After all, what rule is forbidding them from doing so?"
She paused, taking a deep breath.
"Look... I’m not someone who’s very vocal. I don’t like any of this. I’d just prefer to get it over and done with, just like you currently are trying to do. But... if the previous exam is anything to go by, then in this exam, our decision-making and teamwork are being evaluated just as much, if not more."
"And right now, you’re not acting like a team player. You’re acting selfish."
Raelis’s brows twitched as he opened his mouth to speak, but that was when Clea suddenly glanced up at a particular spot in the ceiling.
A faint creak echoed, then a shadow dropped down between Raelis and Clea.
It was a man who wore an old, ragged robe that swayed as he landed without a sound. A comically large top hat perched on his head, and a single monocle gleamed over one blue eye.
He held a cane in his gloved hand, its etchings resembling that of a curling snake.
A sharp pressure flooded the room, and silence took hold.
But the silence soon broke when he tapped his cane on the ground, sending a dull echo throughout the throne room.
Raelis felt his mind clearing up, clarity returning like a sudden gust of wind.
And then, at last, the man spoke.