The next morning, a guard appeared at the stable. He stepped inside and found Mork asleep in the hay. Standing beside him, the guard announced, "Are you ready, Lord Mork? The trial awaits you."
Mork slowly opened his eyes. After a moment, a determined look settled over his face. He rose to his feet and followed the guard.
As they headed toward the arena, Mork glanced back at Snagrot's cabin. Snagrot stood at the door, watching him silently.
Mork halted for a moment. The guard paused as well, realizing he was no longer being followed. Snagrot and Mork exchanged a long look. With a solemn nod, Snagrot bid him farewell. Mork returned the gesture.
The guard spoke again. "Lord Mork, we should be going. The trial is waiting."
Mork turned away and resumed walking.
With every step toward the arena, Mork's expression grew calmer, colder, and even more resolute. Soon they reached the great doors. They opened with a heavy rumble, and Mork stepped inside.
Two figures stood at the center of the arena, waiting. Mork walked toward them.
"You're late," the instructor said.
"My apologies, sir," Mork replied.
The instructor lifted his chin with the arrogance of someone who believed himself superior. "Very well. I'll forgive you just this once." He gestured toward a stand filled with weapons. "Choose your weapon for the duel."
Mork and the other candidate—another young ogre—approached the weapon array. Mork waited, watching the boy's choice first. Without hesitation, the other ogre grabbed a spear.
Then Mork turned back to the weapons. After a moment of thought, he chose a pair of small axes.
"To the center," the instructor ordered.
Both fighters stepped into the middle of the arena, facing one another.
The instructor moved to the edge of the arena and spoke loudly. "In a moment, the rank-upgrading trial will begin between Lord Mork and Mister Lukas. The rules are simple: you will fight until only one remains standing—or until I declare a winner. Any questions?"
Neither Mork nor Lukas spoke. Their eyes were locked on each other.
"Very well then… fight!" the instructor commanded.
The instant the battle began, Lukas lunged at Mork with a thrust of his spear. Mork stepped back, dodging each attack while retreating.
Lukas pressed forward relentlessly. Soon Mork's back met the wall. Lukas roared and drove his spear straight at Mork's face. At the last instant, Mork shifted his head aside. The blade skimmed the edge of his ear, slicing it, and slammed into the wall behind him with a sharp crack.
Lukas laughed. "You fool. You're using short-range weapons against a long-range one. You'll never beat me like this."
Mork grinned wickedly. "You think so?"
In a flash, Mork dashed toward him. One heartbeat later he stood right in front of Lukas. The boy's eyes widened in shock, unable to react in time. Mork delivered a brutal kick to Lukas's chest, sending him flying backward.
Mork yanked the spear out of the wall and tossed it toward its owner. "Never lose your weapon in the middle of a fight."
Lukas scrambled up, grabbed the spear—
But before he could regain balance, Mork leaped high into the air and came crashing down with both axes. Lukas blocked with the shaft of his spear, but Mork didn't stop. He spun and slammed a side kick into Lukas's right ribs. The impact knocked the breath out of him. Lukas collapsed to his knees, one hand clutching his ribs, the other barely keeping him upright with the spear.
"Don't lower your guard in front of your opponent," Mork said.
Then, with a swift knee to the chin, he knocked Lukas unconscious.
A bucket of cold water splashed over Lukas. He woke with a scream and saw Mork and the instructor standing before him.
It took him a moment to remember what had happened. Realizing the result, he stood with his head bowed.
The instructor spoke firmly. "The duel has ended. The winner is Lord Mork, who dominated the fight and has earned a C-rank in his combat trial. As for Mister Lukas—who managed to land a single hit but was then completely overwhelmed—you will receive a D-rank."
He gestured toward the open gates of the next arena. "Proceed to your next trial."
Mork stepped forward, calm and confident, strengthened by his training and hard work. Lukas followed behind, casting a vengeful glare at Mork—one filled with the promise of revenge for the humiliation he had suffered.