Rebirth of the Fallen Zenith.-Chapter 33: Annual Forest Hunting Competition

Annual Forest Hunting Competition

The sound of heavy footsteps echoed like slow thunder across the marble path, breaking the stillness that lingered around the estate gate.

All heads turned. A tall, commanding figure entered their view—Viscount Theo Vale. His black hair was neatly combed back, his cold black eyes impassive. Draped in a regal golden robe lined with deep crimson, he walked with the grace of nobility and the weight of authority. Each step fell like a declaration.

Behind him followed a grey-haired butler—Walton, ever dignified in his posture. Behind the butler were the two unfamiliar young figures that followed close behind. By appearance they look like Twins.

One was a young man—with a body carved like a weapon. Towering, thickly built, with broad shoulders and powerful limbs like honed for only battles. His skin held a sun-kissed bronze hue, and his short, wild hair—black as night—matched the storm that churned in his piercing Black eyes. Despite the fine travel clothes, he gave off the aura of a battle maniac barely restrained.

The other was young woman look like his twin sister. She moved with the elegance, yet her charm felt untouched by arrogance. Her long, wavy black hair fell past her waist like a raven's veil, shimmering under the morning sun. Her Black eyes sparkled with curiosity and quiet mischief. Her figure was... breathtaking. Every curve, every step radiated natural beauty—her chest full and firm, her waist narrow, her hips perfectly sculpted. A portrait of perfect proportion. But what truly made her striking wasn't her body—it was her soft smile, a perfect blend of innocence and intelligence.

Despite their differences, the resemblance between the twins was unmistakable: the same aristocratic facial structure, the same intense bone-deep charisma.

They stopped just before the assembled group.

Orion, Elara, Edric, and Arin bowed and greeted in unison, their voices firm and greet viscount Theo Vale, "Greeting Father."

Celia and Sera offered a graceful nod. "Greeting Lord Theo."

Lysandra's tone was respectfully formal. "Greeting Lord Viscount."

The rest of their classmates and guards followed, echoing, "Greeting Lord Viscount."

Viscount only gave slight nod on their greetings and not said anything.

Butler Walton stepped forward with a respectful smile. "Greeting Lady Celia. Lady Sera."

Celia offered a gentle nod with her usual warmth. "Good morning, Walton."

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Sera gave a faint smile and gently nodded. "On time, as always."

Walton chuckled, the lines on his weathered face softening. "You're too kind, my ladies."

Then, turning slightly, he gestured toward the two standing behind him.

"Lady Celia, Lady Sera... these two—you may recognize them. My son and daughter. Lira Walton and Rey Walton."

Everyone's gaze shifted to the siblings.

Orion's gaze sharpened. He remembered.

He had heard, long ago, that Walton had children—twins, no less. But he'd never seen them. Then, He remembers both them little vividly from blessing ceremony. This was the boy who had received a Golden Blessing during the ceremony. And the girl beside him—Lira—had the brightest Silver Blessing among them all.

The two stepped forward with composed elegance.

Rey stood unfazed, his eyes sweeping across the group like a seasoned observer. Lira, while composed, spared a few quick glances everyone—her gaze lingered ever so slightly on Orion. His bluish-white hair caught the morning light like spun moonlight. His sharp features, his stillness, his presence—he looked like a prince from the old legends.

Her heart gave a tiny, unexpected flutter.

"S-so handsome..." she murmured in heart and She looked away instantly, cheeks flushing just slightly. A subtle hue—who enough to go unnoticed by everyone.

Sera stepped forward with a little smile.

"Of course we know them, Walton. How could we not? They're your Children. So, they are family for us."

Celia's voice followed. "You've served this house longer than any servant and that make you family. These two are part of the Vale family by bond, if not by blood."

Walton bowed deeply. "You honour me. But I am just only a humble servant."

From the corner of his eye, he saw Viscount Theo shoot him a glance—cold, unreadable on his comment. Walton cleared his "Rey. Lira. Greet the ladies."

The twins bowed gracefully.

"Lady Celia. Lady Sera," they echoed with flawless etiquette.

Celia raised her hand gently. "No need for titles. Call us Aunt Celia and Aunt Sera."

Twins blinked. And both exchanged confused looks but quickly smiled, nodding.

"Yes... Aunt Celia, Aunt Sera."

"Good," Sera chuckled. "That's better."

Walton's eyes softened. In that moment, something flickered in him—not just pride, but gratitude. As if, for just a breath, the rigid lines of class and rank didn't matter.

Walton smiled and continued with introductions, gesturing to the rest.

"This is Young Master Orion, Young Mistress Elara, and Young Masters Edric and Arin. This is Lady Lysandra Voss, from Voss Imperial Academy."

Rey gave a polite nod, while Lira bowed with grace—but her eyes flicked back to Orion, just for a moment longer. Their greetings were returned with small nods in turn—though Rey's gaze settled a second longer on Orion, as if testing the weight of his presence.

Orion met his eyes briefly—unshaken, calm.

Theo had remained utterly silent.

At last, Sera spoke, voice cool. "My Lord. You permitted Edric and his others classmate to participate in the novice competition?"

Theo gave a slow nod, his voice low and indifferent.

"Yes. He asked. I granted."

Celia's brow furrowed. "But... it's meant for Novices."

"He requested. I saw no harm," Theo replied flatly, casting his gaze away.

Sera opened her mouth again—but Walton, seeing the tension rise, stepped forward smoothly.

"My lord, my ladies... if I may. We should depart for the venue. The competition begins shortly."

Theo said nothing more. Instead, he turns and walk to frontmost carriage and he boarded.

Lady Celia and Lady Sera exchanged a quiet glance, then boarded another. Orion looked at Elara and nodded.

"Let's go."

She smiled with warmth in her eyes. "Yes, brother."

They climbed into a carriage together. Walton took another with Rey and Lira, while Lysandra, Edric, Arin, and the rest of their classmates took the remaining carriages.

The journey to the southern gate took twenty minutes. When the carriages finally halted, dust and wind greeted them.

The vast southern clearing of Valeric City had undergone a breathtaking transformation in grand arena.

Where once grass and wildflowers swayed in solitude, now stood a grand arena—vibrant and alive. Rows of colorful banners fluttered along the edges of the wide-open field, each embroidered with the sigil of a noble house or merchant guild. Grandstands fashioned from enchanted whitewood had been constructed in tiers, each row reserved for a different class of spectators. Nobles adorned in their finest silks reclined under parasols, their gazes sharp and appraising. Merchants clutched their ledgers and wager slips, while common citizens cheered from behind golden frame barriers, their excitement filling the morning air with electric fervour.

In the very center of the grounds, three raised thrones stood atop a stone platform draped in crimson and gold. Intricately carved with mythical beasts and sigils of the Vale House, At the highest point, three ornately carved thrones stood for the presiding lords and ladies of Valeric City. Theo took the middle seat, while Celia and Sera settled on either side, regal and calm.

A sudden hush fell over the gathering as Butler Walton, clad in formal black with a silver sash, stepped onto a wooden platform at the base of the platform. He raised a single hand, and the crowd obeyed with instinctive silence.

"Ladies and gentlemen," his voice rang out, steady and clear. "Welcome to the Annual Forest Hunting Competition."

A wave of excitement rippled across the field—cheers rising, children waving flags, and nobles murmuring with anticipation.

"This event," Walton continued, "is more than tradition. It is a measure of growth, talent, and courage—a test of our rising generation. Within the Southern Forest roam magical beasts—ranging from the strength of a One-Star Novice to, at most, a One-Star Apprentice, but none lethal danger for our young generation."

He paused, letting that assurance settle in the crowd. "It is a safe, yet demanding trial ground rising generation."

He turned to the participants now lined behind him—Orion, Elara, Lysandra, Edric, Arin, Rey, Lira, and many others.

"The rules are simple. You are to hunt as many magical beasts as you can. You need not bring the entire carcass—only their eyes as proof."

He paused.

"Attacking or harming one another is strictly prohibited. However, you may form teams... or go alone. Stealing beast eyes is not forbidden—but physical combat between participants is."

Gasps and murmurs filled the field.

He gave the participants a pointed look.

"You may form teams... or go alone. Stealing eyes from others is not forbidden. But mark my words—combat between participants is strictly prohibited."

Gasps spread like wildfire through the crowd, especially among the younger onlookers. The tension in the air crackled.

Walton allowed it to linger, then added with a smile, "Let it be a game of fun, not war."

"The competition ends at sunset. The one with the most eyes shall be crowned victor."

One more thing before completion start, "This year Young Master Edric and his classmates also participate in Annual Forest Hunting Competition."

Before he could continue, a noble from the crowd stood up.

"Excuse me! How can Young Master Edric and his classmates participate? They are already in the Apprentice Realm! And this competition only meant for novice!"

A tense silence spread.

Walton smiled mildly, unfazed.

"Indeed. Young Master Edric, and their classmates have been permitted to participate... while wearing mana suppression bracelets."

He raised his hand, revealing the silver bands on Edric, Arin, and Lysandra's and others wrists who is in Apprentice realm.

"These magical items suppress their cultivation to the Novice Realm."

Someone in the crowd looked like he wanted to speak up—but a single glance toward Viscount Theo silenced him. The viscount's expression hadn't changed, but the weight of his presence was more than enough.

Walton's voice rang again, this time with rising energy. "And now..."

He turned and raised his hand high in the air.

"Let the competition... begin!"

From the far end of the field, a line of guards marched forth in formation—each holding the reins of a magnificent horse. Thirty steeds in all—sleek, proud, and brimming with restrained power.

Gasps and cheers erupted anew as the horses were led forward—manes glistening in the sunlight, hooves kicking dust with impatience.

"Participants, step forward and choose your steed!"

One by one, the young cultivators strode out.

Orion stepped first, his stride calm, unwavering. His bluish-white hair shimmered under the sunlight like polished silver. He approached a tall black stallion with a midnight mane and deep, intelligent eyes. The creature snorted, but did not back away—instead, it leaned forward, as if recognizing him.

"You'll do," Orion murmured, placing a hand on its mane.

Elara came next, choosing a graceful white mare with hooves like polished pearl and a faint silver streak along its flank.

"This one," she said, her eyes lighting up.

Mounting their steeds with practiced ease, the siblings lined up near the front of the group. Orion turned his head slightly, casting one last glance toward the raised platform.

Celia met his eyes—her smile soft and proud. Sera gave a small nod with smile. He smiled back.

Orion nodded back, silently promising to make them proud.

But just as he turned his eyes away... a flicker in the crowd caught his attention.

Amid the noble boxes, seated in a carved chair among the merchant elite, was a woman with long, flowing black hair. Her golden eyes locked onto him with unsettling intensity—calm, unreadable, and yet... familiar. Laura Valtor.

Behind her, a cloaked figure in pitch-black robes stood like a shadow, silent and unmoving.

When her eyes met his. She offered a soft smile— like she said – Good luck.

Orion blinked and nodded subtly in acknowledgment, then turned back to the field.

Beside him, Elara leaned forward slightly in her saddle. "Let's go, brother," she said, eyes sparkling. "Let's win this."

He smiled. "Let's."

Walton raised both arms, his voice like a herald's trumpet.

"Begin!"

The field exploded into motion.

Horses neighed, hooves struck the earth like thunder, and a whirlwind of dust and wind rose as thirty young riders surged forward in unison. Their figures blurred as they charged toward the dense edge of the Southern Forest, the line between civilization and wild magic fast approaching.

Behind them, the crowd erupted—cheers, laughter, tension—and the sunlight shimmered over the golden banners as the trial of the young cultivators truly began.