Chapter 52: 8 Stars!
The moment Brant's words sank in, the crowd erupted into chatter.
"Trial selection? Wait—aren't we supposed to go straight to the academy?" someone whispered.
"You fool! Don't say that out loud! Do you want to be crowned the king of country bumpkins?" another hissed.
"We could die in the trial?" a girl asked, her voice trembling.
"Tsk. I'm already dying in this filth," a young man in rags muttered, his eyes burning with determination. "Might as well die trying."
Clap!
Hasker clapped his hands once, the sharp sound silencing through the murmurs.
"Alright, enough of the guessing," he barked, his voice echoing across the plaza. "You don't even know if you're qualified for the trials yet. You should all have received a number. Form groups of two hundred—numbers 1 to 200 in the first line, 201 to 400 in the second, and so on. You have ten minutes."
The crowd began to shuffle, though not without chaos and confusion.
