The acrid scent of metal and sweat filled my nostrils as we were herded like cattle to the weapons crafting station. Another day, another trial in this endless circus of survival. The irony wasn't lost on me. We were supposedly the best of the best, yet here we were, reduced to crafting our own weapons like primitive warriors. But I knew better. This wasn’t just about crafting weapons; it was about shaping our fates.
Lady Amelia, ever the picture of cold authority, stood before us, her voice crisp as she explained the rules. No grand speeches, no dramatics—just simple instructions. The royal guards moved methodically, bringing in raw materials: wood, metal, and leather. As they set them down, I felt a familiar rush of adrenaline. This was it. Another chance to show these amateurs what tru
