The first bell rang high above the Castle of the Seasons, and the entire Capital Sorriso seemed to hold its breath.

  In the great Aurora Square, thousands gathered before the circular marble arena, raised upon a stage that reflected the symbols of the eleven Fernandes houses. Across the walls, banners fluttered in the wind: Kyros’s Black Sun, the Black Clover of Trevos (Valquíria), the Crimson Flame of the Swords, the Heart of the Copas (Luiz), the Flowered Cipher of the Ouros (Helena, symbol of the kings of gold), the Shadow Eye of Selene’s House, the Wolf of the Savage House (Marcos), and the Horizon of the Aurora (Alex).

  Lukas stopped just a few steps from the entrance arch, breathing deeply. Even with his heart steady, he couldn’t deny: the air felt different — as if history itself vibrated around him.

  He frowned, suspicion flashing across his face. Strange… he thought. In my other life, none of this existed. Only three trials. No pomp… no grand announcement. Why did it change?

  César, inside his mind, muttered gravely:

  ...Eleven trials. Reckless. But also… an opportunity. If you win these stages, your house will earn prestige before it even exists.

  Morgana slithered at the edge of his thoughts, smiling dangerously:

  Hehe… And if you win, you’ll have suitors of every race trying to drag you to the altar. Or to the bed. I myself… am considering reserving the first night.

  “Shut up, Morgana,” Lukas muttered.

  “Do not listen to that depraved witch,” César growled. “A legionary warrior must be honorable. Do not debase yourself with cheap lust.”

  “You two are going to drive me insane…” Lukas rubbed his temple.

  Leli came running up the steps, breathless:

  “Are you going to keep philosophizing until the festival ends, brother? Come on. They’re about to call the names.”

  “I know…” Lukas lifted his chin, resolute. “Let’s see who’s laughing at the end.”

  The Imperial Herald climbed onto the stage with a massive scroll. When he raised his voice, silence fell over the crowd:

  — “In the name of Patriarch Kyros José Fernandes II, we declare the beginning of the Festival of the Eleven Trials of Legacy!”

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  A thunderclap seemed to echo, though the sky was clear. Lukas clenched his fists. This isn’t just regression… something changed the course of history. Maybe because of me…

  The herald began to announce the representatives of the houses, one by one:

  — “For House Aurora: Alex Fernandes, the Firstborn of the Sun!”

  — “For House Swords: Darian Fernandes, commander of a thousand blades!”

  — “For House Ouros: Helena Fernandes, Lady of Finances!”

  — “For House Savage: Marcos Fernandes, the Wanderer!”

  — “For House Trevos: Valquíria Fernandes, queen of warriors!”

  — “For House Copas: Luiz Fernandes, general of the invincible ranks!”

  — “For House Twins: Lyncon and Maycon Fernandes, the mirrors that never part!”

  The crowd erupted into applause at each name. Then came the announcement that sparked laughter:

  — “For the Tenth House…” the herald hesitated, “Lukas Fernandes — still without a house of his own, but candidate to found the Legionnaires!”

  Laughter rippled across Aurora Square.

  “Surpass the Copas?!” someone jeered. “Or even the Trevos?! Hahahaha!”

  Lukas kept his steps firm toward the center, but felt a shadow pass behind him.

  “Well then, try to cross the river, Lukas…” Darian’s cold voice cut like a blade. “Trash will always be trash, failure.”

  César roared inside his mind: “HE SAID THAT TO OUR FACE?!”

  Morgana hissed, smiling venomously: “Darian… I’d love to see your liver on the tip of a fork.”

  Lukas didn’t answer — he just kept walking, engraving the insult into memory.

  To the side, Luiz and Valquíria exchanged glances.

  “The skinny one has changed…” Luiz muttered. “Ignoring him with that look… what’s gotten into him?”

  Kyros, seated on the throne, said nothing. He only smiled — a thin, dangerous smile, corner to corner, like a predator finally watching its prey rise to fight.

  “You’re awakening… tenth.”

  While the herald continued, noble ladies swarmed around Kyros, smiling and trying to start conversations. He slipped away discreetly — or as discreetly as a patriarch could — escaping like a young man of twenty surrounded by suitors.

  Meanwhile, Leli, ever alert, was already spreading gossip among a group of cadets.

  “Did you see? I think even father was surprised by the skinny one today…”

  Before she could finish, Selene appeared out of nowhere, sliding like a living shadow, and grabbed Leli’s arm.

  “You’re too beautiful…,” she said in an almost innocent tone, though her eyes examined every detail of the girl. “It’s unfair. Only you and Lukas have this skin tone. I wish I’d inherited it from father too…”

  Before Leli could reply, Selene vanished with her — swallowed by darkness.

  Lukas blinked, stunned. “But… how did she vanish?!”

  Luiz answered immediately:

  “That, skinny one, is Shadow Crossing. One of Selene’s secret techniques — from the House of the Shadow Eye.”

  Valquíria crossed her arms, smirking:

  “Honestly, Lukinhas. You don’t even know your own sister’s abilities?”

  “Oh yeah?” Lukas shot back. “Then tell me all of them. Because seeing this side is already strange enough.”

  Valquíria raised a brow. “Fair point…”

  End of chapter 13