Chapter 272: They are Odd (3):

“Speaking of numbers, how many candidates do you think will actually make it through the elimination rounds?”

“Hard to say. If they’re really expanding recruitment, maybe they’ll be more lenient with the initial cuts. But if the Emperor is pushing for quantity over quality…” Arthur trailed off as his expression darkened. Then he sighed,

“Traditional attrition rates suggest maybe half will survive the preliminary trials. However, since that will not be the case this time, I’d say the death toll might be quite staggering. So if we start with, say, two hundred candidates, we might number ten to maybe below twenty new Templars at the end.”

Jacob let out a low whistle. “Those are brutal numbers.”

The conversation continued in this vein as they rode, also including noble house politics, and the general state of the Empire. Nero absorbed it all silently, learning more about the broader situation than he had ever learned before.

The two nobles talked as if he wasn’t there, their voices carrying on the morning air without any self-consciousness or attempt to include him. It wasn’t malicious exclusion, exactly.

It was just… indifference. He was a commoner, and therefore not really worth engaging with beyond what was required.

Nero found he didn’t particularly mind. Their conversation was informative, and being ignored meant he could listen without having to carefully manage his responses or worry about revealing too much.

The road ahead continued to wind through farmland, and in the distance, the dark line of the forest was becoming more distinct. They had perhaps another hour of riding before they reached the Thornwood proper.

***

The sun had climbed higher in the sky, burning off the last of the morning mist and casting long shadows across the road.

Jacob adjusted the strap on his back and glanced over at Arthur. “Have you heard anything about the reward structure? I know they changed it last year.”

Arthur nodded. “It is now a points-based system now instead of simple pass-fail. Performance in each stage earns you points, and your final ranking determines which Order gets first pick of you, what resources you receive during training, all of that.”

Jacob hummed, “Which means we can’t afford to play it safe during this hunting exercise.”

Arthur shrugged with a frown “All that seems designed to encourage reckless behavior.”

“Or to filter out those who can’t handle the he pressure.” Jacob countered with a sneer. ”

Arthur laughed at that. “Fair point.”

They rode in silence for a moment before Jacob spoke again. “What do you know about the other major houses entering candidates this year?”

Arthur thought about it for a moment then answered,

“House Valen is putting forward three main candidates—all brothers, apparently. House Mordain has two, though I’ve heard one of them is being groomed specifically for the White Prophets. House Cresten has their usual single heir with a few supporters, and House Vern is entering four, which seems rather excessive.”

Jacob whistled. “Four from one house? That’s ambitious.”

“Or desperate. House Vern has been losing influence for years. They’re probably hoping to secure multiple Templar positions to regain political standing.”

“That strategy could backfire spectacularly. Spreading resources across four candidates instead of focusing on making one truly exceptional…”

“I was thinking the same thing,” Arthur agreed. “But it’s their choice to make. More competition for us, I suppose.”

“Indeed.” Jacob paused. “What about House Koh? Just you, or are there others?”

Aurthur’s expression shifted into a subtle smile,

“That is a secret.”

Jacob frowned and raised a brow, “Secret? Secret how?”

Arthur shrugged. Then he glanced at Jacob’s back,

“A waraxe is indeed a rather unique choice of weapon. There are not many that make use of them.”

Jacob snorted, “I’ve trained with a number of melee and ranged weapons, and I am proficient in a lot of them. I simply chose this because of the weather.”

’The weather?’ Listening from behind, Nero couldn’t help but raise a brow.

What did the weather have to do with his choice of weapons?

Arthur also seemed a bit confused, although he didn’t show it or pry further.

Instead, he caressed the hilt of the longsword resting on his hip,

“The longsword is a wonderful weapon. Their efficacy in the hands of a true master is absolutely unmatched. Plus…”

A strange expression passed through his eyes,

“Plus, this is a relic.”

Jacob’s eyes narrowed as he is gaze on Arthur’s hip intensified a bit. However, he carefully concealed his gaze,

“I could tell.”

Arthur smiled, “I believe yours is a relic as well?”

Jacob shrugged, “It is. Practically a family heirloom. Unlike the new stuff on the market.”

Arthur nodded thoughtfully, “Some do say old is gold. Such quality of weapon aren’t made to these standards anymore, I’ll tell you that.”

Jacob’s eyes narrowed, “Is that so? And how much did you purchase yours?”

Arthur shrugged, “Just three thousand gold coins.”

Nero nearly cursed out loud.

“Three thousand…” Jacob shook his head and laughed bitterly.

’Three thousand gold coins?!’

Nero knew the worth of money as much as the next man. Three thousand gold coins was more than the average commoner would ever see in their entire life.

One gold coin was equivalent to a hundred silver, and most people made a few dozen silver a month. In a year, making ten gold was akin to living good.

Nero almost couldn’t believe his ears.

As the two nobles continued their trivial discussions on equipment, training, and various noble house scandals and gossips, Nero continued to listen, mentally comparing their experiences to the sort of life he had lived back in Gor.

The forest ahead was much closer now. Nero could make out individual trees, the dense undergrowth, the darker shadows beneath the canopy.

He couldn’t help but think to himself how wide and enormous Malady’s Garden was.

The road was narrowing now, with the forest pressing in on either side. The temperature had dropped slightly as they moved into the shade of the outermost trees. Bird calls echoed through the woods, and somewhere in the distance, Nero could hear running water—probably one of the streams that fed into the corrupted river system that flowed through Malady’s Garden.

Sergeant Aldric spoke for the first time since they’d left the city.

He spoke just a single sentence;

“Stay alert.”

That was all the warning they were going to get.

The three candidates straightened in their saddles, hands moving instinctively to weapons.

The easy conversation between Arthur and Jacob had stopped, replaced by tense silence.

The mission had begun.

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