Oath of the King-Chapter 54 - 53: The Watchers’ Gaze

High above the ring, the grand stand was packed. Gold banners fluttered in the wind, and torches burned bright. Every eye was fixed on the floating screens.

The screens hovered like tiny green windows, edged in yellow light. They showed each contestant's name, health bar, and position in the arena. A small icon marked friends or rivals. Bets were placed with a tap on the frame. Money changed hands even faster than the phoenix's flame.

Lady Miren frowned at her screen. She sipped wine and tapped her finger against the edge. "He's moving too slow," she muttered. "He can't survive that long."

Across the aisle, Duke Bareth leaned forward. "My coin says he'll last at least three cycles," he said, making a swiping motion to double his bet. The yellow glow around his screen pulsed green for a moment. He scowled. "That's my gold!"

A merchant in the next row, by the name of Graff, chuckled. "You noble types always think you can guess fate. I bet on the rogue elf. Watch how she hides and strikes. She's worth ten silver to me."

A murmur ran through the crowd. Some hissed, some cheered. The elf, hidden among the contestants, had a small symbol on her cloak—unknown, untrusted. Betting on her was risky.

Miren glared. "Commoner scum. She'll die in a day."

Graff smiled. "We'll see."

Other screens flickered. A satchel-bearer squeezed past, showing his screen to two guards. The guards nodded, frowning. They passed word to the announcer.

Above them, the cloaked orc sat by Leonhardt's side. The orc's screen glowed softly. He grunted and tapped a symbol—a shield icon meant he believed in Leonhardt's survival. The glow turned green; he gave a satisfied rumble.

Leonhardt looked at the orc, then at the cloaked woman beside him. He sighed. "I hate these things. They show every move I make."

The woman, face hidden by her hood, spoke softly. "They pay good coin to know if you live or die. It is how they watch the game."

Leonhardt scowled. "I didn't fight to be a show."

The orc huffed. "They watch for peace of mind. They bet so they have hope."

A child in the row below pointed up. "My mother bets on Alden!" he shouted. The screen showed Alden's icon—a small phoenix crest.

Cheers and jeers rose. A noble woman stomped her foot. "That boy is worthless! He's half-dead!"

The child's mother, a seamstress, glared. "He saved the last winner. He's no coward!"

Now another screen changed color. A red border glowed around the girl's icon—the snake bite survivor. People gasped. The announcer's voice rang out. "Attention! Contestant Maera has regained strength and moves southward! Zone collapse in twelve hours!"

Yellow light flared and green screens refreshed. Odds changed. Bets rose. Horse-drawn gold carts in the city far below would rumble with new wagers.

A wealthy merchant next to Graff slammed his palm on the railing. "See that? She moves faster now. I'll double down. The elf lives on."

Miren scoffed. "You're mad. The fire will reach her soon."

"Then I'll bet on who catches her." Merchant replied.

The orc grunted at Leonhardt. "They fight with words more than swords up here."

Leonhardt rolled his eyes. "Let them talk. My fight is down there with real stakes."

Below, dozens of glowing screens hovered around the ring entrance. Each screen showed the contestants stepping into the forest portal, one by one, their icons flickering. A new name appeared—Alden's symbol pulsed brightly.

A hush fell. Then applause and cheers for the boy who moved like wind.

A cloaked priest near Leonhardt crossed himself. "May the divine judge them mercifully."

A soldier spat. "Mercy is for the weak. We pay for blood."

The orc leaned forward. "They think this is sport. But down there, they fight for their lives."

Leonhardt sighed and looked back at his screen. He tapped the icon next to Alden's name, a small heart. It turned gold.

The cloaked woman reached over and took Leonhardt's hand in a brief touch. "They may watch with these screens, but they do not see your heart."

Leonhardt nodded slowly. He rose and looked down at the forest portal, the first flames flickering at its border. "Then let's give them a show they can't forget."

High in the stands, bets rose and fell, voices clashed, and screens glowed. But below, Alden and Maera moved through the burning forest, unseen by the watchers who thought they ruled fates with a flick of the finger.

And the real game had only just begun.