The Eastern Plateau Beastlord, Nakira Nekhir, stood at the forward edge of the high platform. While below the first trial was already underway.

  She watched without speaking as the arena plates deepened their pull. Controlled gravity fields pressed downward across the candidates, carefully controlled to test the candidates, albeit strong enough to nearly crush them.

  Candidates strained under the force. Some adapted instinctively, redistributing their weight and lowering their centers of gravity. Others stiffened, attempting to resist through brute strength alone. Panic surfaced quickly among those who had arrived unprepared.

  The first collapse came early, as a bullkin arrogantly attempted to take the pressure head-on. For a moment he held before his stance slipped. His legs buckled, and he slammed down hard to the ground.

  The leaders of the Eastern Plateau’s Herd Cities stood behind Nakira. This group included clan elders, city wardens, and totem seers who were close enough to watch the trial. Those with less power stood further back on the higher terraces.

  Beside Nakira, positioned slightly behind her, stood the upper echelon of the Herd Cities. This group included clan elders, city wardens, and totem seers who were close enough to watch the trial. Those with less power remained further back by custom.

  Kharum, a Grand Elder of the Aruq Clan, leaned on a staff made from a fossilized horn. The staff marks were carved across generations. Each line recording a journey of their ancestor from the past.

  “They break faster than they used to,” he said quietly, keeping his eyes fixed on the arena below.

  After a moment he added, “Peace makes people soft.” his voice edged with disapproval.

  Nakira did not respond immediately.

  “Does it?” she said calmly.

  She finally turned and met his gaze without challenge, without warmth.

  “I see no difference,” she continued. “Give them time. It will forge their strength and build their resilience once more. Just as it did to us.”

  Kharum exhaled through his nose and shifted his grip on the staff.

  “The other Beastlords would call this indulgence.” He snorted.

  Nakira stepped slightly closer to him. her presence suddenly felt heavier than the gravity below.

  “The other Beastlords do not guard this landmass,” she said evenly.

  She held his gaze for a moment longer and then gave a faint smile that revealed little.

  “Do not cross that line, Elder.”

  The conversation ended there.

  Kharum inclined his head stiffly, retreating into silence.

  Behind Nakira, Darius The Ironfang and the Fangguard stood perfectly still, with their weapons rested against their sides. Their expressions revealed nothing, but their attention was not focused only on the arena.

  They monitored the platform, the arena and even the air above it,.

  Despite her strength, the Beastlord remained exposed to danger and threats did not come only from below.

  Conflicts between Beastlords were rare, but they were not impossible. History recorded more than a dozen such wars, each one devastating the lands involved. Some of those conflicts had begun from grievances so minor that later generations struggled to remember the original cause, yet the scars they left behind remained clear.

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  On the other sides, where the foreign delegates stood and spectated the trial. Elder Saresh of the Tazrik Clan, envoy from the Sky Bastion, watched the trial. He had a polite smile, but his eyes were cold. His robes were covered in the symbols of his clan and Prashavat. Silver rings circled every finger, each one etched with delicate chain.

  “This is an intriguing method of trial,” Saresh said quietly. “Karshvar truly remains… distinctive.”

  “Indeed,” replied another elder from Prashavat who stood beside him. “You would not find such a test at home.”

  “Nor in most nations,” Saresh agreed mildly.

  The other elder studied the shifting arena.

  “Still, the principle could be reproduced. With sufficient technology it could even be refined.”

  “You may attempt that.”

  The voice interrupted them without warning.

  Nakira now stood directly before the delegates. Her arrival had been quiet enough that it made Saresh slightly narrow his eyes.

  The dwarven elders straightened at once.

  “Your Highness,” Saresh said smoothly as he bowed his head. The others followed his example, lowering themselves into respectful silence.

  Nakira observed them for a moment. Her eyes were sharp and unreadable.

  “You dwarfs possess a rather remarkable habit,” she said with mild amusement.

  “We are curious by nature,” Saresh replied politely. “No offense is intended your highness.”

  Nakira recognized the insincerity immediately, but she chose not to address it directly.

  “Curiosity,” Nakira said, “has led many beyond the limits of what they were meant to touch.”

  Her smile remained thin.

  “Do not allow yours to do the same.”

  “Thank you for the advice, Your Highness,” Saresh replied. His fingers folded neatly behind his back.

  The tension between them was subtle but unmistakable.

  Nearby, the Matrabhumi delegation observed the exchange without interfering.

  Ambassador Raghavan Ashvakarna stood with her hands clasped behind her back. Her posture suggested long military training. Her gaze moved across the arena and did not linger on individuals, but on patterns.

  She noticed Nakira approaching.

  “What do you see, General?” Nakira asked once she stood before her. “You study the trial as if you have discovered something interesting.”

  Raghavan bowed slightly. “Your Highness.”

  “Nothing extraordinary,” she said. “I simply find the structure of the trial fascinating.”

  “Tell me what you have noticed,” Nakira said.

  Raghavan answered without hesitation.

  “This trial does not measure strength alone. It filters for adaptability, restraint, and awareness under pressure.”

  She gestured slightly toward the arena below.

  “Through this trial I see you all seek to discovered a perfect soldier,”

  Nakira gave a quiet laugh.

  “You see too far into it.”

  “But the trial indeed removes those who cannot adapt and endure,” She continued. “Which is very important.”

  She paused briefly.

  “I have heard that Matrabhumi breaks minds in order to test loyalty.”

  Nakira’s gaze sharpened slightly.

  “I find that method more intriguing,” she added.

  Raghavan smiled faintly.

  “Only when the body survives too easily.”

  Below them, another candidate collapsed. A bear-kin warrior with impressive size failed to maintain balance. Strength without control lasted only so long.

  Nakira noted the result briefly before turning her attention elsewhere.

  Time passed.

  The arena shifted into its duration phase. The pressure stabilized. It no longer increased, but it did not lessen. It remained constant.

  The crowd quieted down.

  The conversations faded. Even the elders leaned forward slightly now,.

  This was where most candidates broke.

  Nakira’s attention settled on a panther-kin.

  Ashara of the Yavvara Clan.

  She recognized his approach immediately. His posture was efficient. He wasted no energy resisting the weight unnecessarily. His breathing remained steady despite the strain.

  “That one uses an unusual method,” Mahrak said quietly beside her.

  Nakira nodded.

  “He does not seek attention,” she nodded.

  “Which is rare” She noted.

  After a moment her gaze shifted.

  She saw a boar-kin candidate stood nearby, his posture rigid and defiant. Instead of adjusting constantly, he forced the pressure downward through his frame.

  “And that one?” Nakira asked, lifting an eyebrow.

  “Is he from the Tharkun Clan or another boar lineage?”

  Mahrak snorted quietly.

  “From his behavior, certainly Tharkun.”

  Nakira watched him carefully.

  “He approaches the trial in the opposite manner of the Yavvara warrior.” She stated.

  Then the horn sounded.

  The pressure released instantly.

  Candidates who remained standing did not celebrate. Some collapsed immediately once the strain vanished. Others stayed upright only because their bodies had not yet processed that the pressure was gone.

  The crowd erupted into cheers.

  Mahrak spoke quietly beside her.

  “There are whispers of outside pressure. Attempts to influence the trial outcome.”

  Nakira turned toward him.

  “Influence is tolerated,” she said. “Interference is not.”

  She returned her attention to the arena.

  “The trial this time will not be simple.”

  Mahrak nodded.

  Handlers moved in to assist the surviving candidates and remove those who had failed.

  As the trial concluded, the Herd-City shifted beneath them, vast yet restless.

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