When the first light of dawn pierced the night sky, only thirty-five boys remained before the gates of Aldurukh's fortress.
The long, cold night had finally broken most of their wills.
In the thick, ink-black darkness, the shadows of the ancient trees seemed to transform into man-eating beasts. The forest echoed with the roars of Great Beasts, constantly eroding the boys' sanity, eventually causing two-thirds of the candidates to abandon the trial in panic.
The gates of Aldurukh slowly opened. A stout knight in gleaming black armour and a snow-white surcoat appeared before them.
The knight threw back his hood, revealing a weather-beaten face around fifty years old. "I am Master Ramil. I have the honour of being your instructor for the Order."
"From this moment, you are my students."
Zahariel's body and mind were on the verge of collapse. He was holding on purely by willpower. He believed the others were equally exhausted.
The reason they hadn't fallen was that their bodies were already stiff and numb.
Zahariel, like the others, had drooping eyelids, blue lips, and ice crystals on his eyelashes and hair.
He could barely hear Master Ramil's speech. He seemed to be giving a long oration, but in Zahariel's mind, there was only a faint buzz.
It was their first time joining the Order, and also Master Ramil's first time as an instructor.
He was a powerful warrior, but he lacked experience as a teacher.
Zahariel's brain seemed to have frozen in the cold night. His thoughts were mechanical and slow.
All he wanted now was a cup of hot tea to bring feeling back to his numb body.
He was also grateful to Baldr. Whenever he felt his resolve wavering in the cold night, Baldr's voice would echo in his ears: Never give up.
This was their only chance in life.
They had succeeded in joining the Order, and they should thank Baldr.
Thank him for the hot tea, and for his encouragement.
Zahariel's body swayed, as if someone was roughly trying to drag him from a dream.
He struggled to open his heavy eyelids. His vision was shrouded in a hazy mist.
Just then, his blanket was suddenly ripped off.
The biting cold air rushed in, making Zahariel shiver and curl up instinctively.
The last vestiges of sleep were shattered. His consciousness snapped back instantly.
"You're finally awake?" Nemiel's face filled his vision.
"Nemiel?"
"Who else?"
"What are you doing? What time is it?"
"It's still early. But you need to get up now."
Zahariel tugged at the blanket and grumbled. "Why? I thought there was no training today."
Zahariel suddenly realised: his earlier experience had just been a dream.
He had been in the Order for two years now. The relentless daily training had consumed almost all of his time.
Today was a rare day off. He wanted to sleep in.
"Still sleeping? Have you forgotten what day it is?"
"What day?"
"It's snowing today!"
Zahariel was instantly alert. He knew what that meant. A new round of trials was about to begin.
This wasn't work for apprentices like them, but they had promised Baldr they would help.
Zahariel hastily pulled on his boots, grabbed his coat, and rushed out. "Come on, Nemiel! What are you waiting for?"
Nemiel glanced helplessly at his cousin. "Who's the one dawdling?"
Zahariel and Nemiel had now lived in Aldurukh for two years. The fortress had become as familiar to them as home.
When they rushed to the city gates, Baldr was already busy in his little cabin. Firelight cast a warm glow on the snow through the window.
Zahariel, leaning against the door frame, asked breathlessly, "Baldr, are we late?"
"You're just in time. Help me tidy up the cabin first. I need to go back to the city to get some things later."
Zahariel found a hard, dusty rag from a tool cabinet in the corner, dampened it in a bucket, and began wiping the oak tables and chairs of the information desk.
Nemiel took a broom and swept the accumulated dust out of the cabin.
The cabin was dirty, because it was usually empty. It was only used on the day of the Order's trial.
Zahariel took a rag from the corner tool cabinet and started wiping the furniture. Nemiel also used the broom to clear away the dust.
Zahariel looked around. The cabin's furnishings were exactly the same as two years ago. He couldn't help but ask, "Baldr, after all these years, why are you still the only one here?"
Baldr wiped the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve. "I can handle this work alone. Others have their own jobs. For example, when the Order is out hunting, we're responsible for all the logistics!"
His eyes sparkled with pride. Though they could never become knights...
Providing logistical support for the knights' hunts was, in a way, indirect participation. Wasn't that also a form of honour?
Many people could only dream of it!
A hint of envy crept into Zahariel's voice, his eyes shining with longing. "I wish I could go hunting too, and kill Great Beasts with my own hands, like Sir Lion."
Nemiel, however, frowned, his voice filled with concern. "I heard the Great Beasts in the south have been completely wiped out. At this rate, all the Great Beasts on Caliban will be extinct soon. Won't we never get the chance to become knights?"
To become a probationary knight, an apprentice had to hunt a Great Beast alone.
To become a full knight, they needed the honour of hunting Great Beasts.
But if the Great Beasts were all gone, what could they hunt?
Zahariel murmured, "I don't understand either. If the Order exterminates the Great Beasts, what will become of us?"
A knight's destiny was to fight Great Beasts. If the Great Beasts were gone, what would be left of a knight's duty?
Baldr threw another log on the fire. "The world keeps moving forward. Even if the Great Beasts are gone, new enemies will come."
Nemiel lowered his voice. "You mean the other knight orders?"
"There's always been infighting between orders. Once the common threat of the Great Beasts disappears, it's only a matter of time before humans turn on each other."
Zahariel couldn't help but retort, "But they are our allies!"
Baldr shook his head. "They're not. Apart from the Star Cup Order and the Flame Haze Order, who are genuine allies, the others are just opportunists."
"The Iron Blood Order only backed down because they knew they were in the wrong. The other orders only joined the hunt in recent years when they saw profit in it."
"In the early years, when we were suffering heavy casualties clearing the Great Beasts, everyone else was just watching from the sidelines."
"They were worried that the Order's reputation would grow too strong, making them seem cold and heartless, turning public opinion against them."
"They ignored us before. Now they're reaching out just to take the credit."
"So once the hunting is over, war is inevitable."
Zahariel asked, "Why can't we just keep the peace? Can't we just live in harmony like now?"
Baldr sighed deeply, his eyes showing a maturity beyond his years. "You're too naive, Zahariel."
"A divided land is destined to breed conflict. Conflict turns into war. Only unification can truly end disputes."
"But wars kill so many people!"
"Hunting kills many people too."
"It's different! Hunting is honourable. War is without honour!"
Baldr said, "Caliban has always been at war with the Great Beasts. Sacrifice is unavoidable. And the sacrifice for war now is the smallest."
"Imagine, once the threat of the Great Beasts gradually disappears, our territory will expand, and the population will soar."
"All knight orders will desperately seek more benefits. At first, we can sit at the negotiating table and resolve disputes peacefully."
"The Order contributes the most, and has the most merit, perhaps 50%. So how much of the benefits should we claim?"
Nemiel said, "Since we contributed 50%, we should get 50% of the benefits."
Baldr replied, "Others won't see it that way."
Zahariel frowned too. "Why not?"
Baldr answered, "The pie is only so big. If we get a bigger slice, they get a smaller one. Why would they agree?"
"But they contributed less!"
"Less contribution has nothing to do with how much pie they get. They'd rather reap the benefits without lifting a finger. If we try to take half, they'll gang up on us. They'll even claim that the Order's greed and ambition started the conflict, making us the villains."
Nemiel's face flushed with anger. "That's not fair! It's the other orders' fault! Why should we be blamed?"
"History is written by the victors. No one cares about the truth."
Zahariel was deflated. "Is war truly unavoidable?"
Baldr said, "It can be avoided, if we're willing to give up some benefits."
"Even though we have 50% of the merit, we could settle for 20%."
"That way, the other orders get more resources and won't unite against us."
"But they might take advantage of our concession, further squeezing our share to 10% or less."
"And that brings peace?" Zahariel lowered his head. This wasn't the peace he wanted.
"If we give up 40% of the benefits, Caliban can have a brief peace."
"Maybe a hundred years, maybe two hundred."
"But once the allocated benefits are digested, we'll fall back into the same predicament of insatiable greed."
"Powerful orders will sign non-aggression pacts and proceed to annex the weaker ones."
"In the end, only a few super-orders will remain on Caliban, and they will fight each other for benefits."
Zahariel clenched his fists. "We endured so much, gave up so many benefits, and in the end, nothing changes?"
"It's not entirely without change. Caliban now has a few million people, but future Caliban might have billions."
"Future wars will be larger in scale and more widespread."
"Now, maybe tens of thousands will die. In the future, at least hundreds of millions will die. That's a difference of over ten thousand times."
Zahariel laughed in frustration. He realised how naive his earlier thoughts had been.
Compared to Baldr, he was as naive as a child!
Nemiel asked, "Baldr, how do you know so much?"
Baldr puffed out his chest with pride. "The teacher taught me all this."
Nemiel said resolutely, "If we want to minimise our losses, we must never compromise at the negotiating table. That 50% is rightfully ours!"
Zahariel was furious. "You're too conservative! Not even 1% should be given away!"
"If we take our 50%, they'll still be too ambitious and unite against us."
"Then we don't let them get to the negotiating table at all. We take them all out before they get there. That would cause the least losses!"
A flicker of surprise passed through Baldr's eyes. He hadn't expected Zahariel, the one most opposed to war, to become so radical.
Baldr said, "That's just the worst-case scenario. We don't have to be that extreme."
"The Star Cup and Flame Haze Orders will support us. We can also divide our enemies, making them suspicious of each other and fight alone."
Nemiel asked, "What if they betray us too?"
Zahariel couldn't believe it. "Why would they betray us?"
Baldr nodded, "Nemiel is right. There are no eternal friends nor eternal enemies, only eternal interests."
"For the sake of profit, anything is possible."
"For enough profit, even a knight would betray his order."
Zahariel asked, "What about you? If there were enough profit, would you betray your teacher?"
"Never!"
"But you said it yourself: for profit, anything is possible."
"That's because you don't understand!"
"How can I understand if you don't explain?"
"Why are you two arguing?" Nemiel gave them a suspicious look. Were they just slacking off under the guise of arguing?
Nemiel asked, "Baldr, besides your teacher, is there anything else in this world that you're sure will never betray you?"
Baldr was silent for a moment. "Yes."
Zahariel leaned in, curious. "What?"
"Mathematics."
Zahariel was stunned.
"Anyone can betray you, but mathematics won't!"
"It won't go easy on you because you're a noble, and it won't make things difficult for you because you're a commoner!"
"With maths, you either know it or you don't!"
Knock, knock!
A knock at the door interrupted their argument.
Nemiel opened the door. Outside stood a shivering boy, his clothes covered in frost.
"Ex... excuse me. Can I come in?" the boy stammered, shivering from the cold.
Baldr quickly stepped forward and pulled the boy into the warm cabin. "Please, come in. It's still morning. Why are you here so early?"
The boy was a little shy. "I left last night. I was afraid of missing the trial. Is... is the trial over?"
Zahariel couldn't help but laugh. "Don't worry, it hasn't started yet."
No matter how strict the Order's trial was, they wouldn't start it in the middle of the night. That would be too cruel.
Baldr pushed a cup of steaming herbal tea towards the boy. "Have some tea and rest. The trial starts at dusk."
Nemiel smiled, "I'm Nemiel. This is Baldr and Zahariel. What's your name?"
"Corswain."