The room's atmosphere curdled into outright hostility. Guards stepped forward, spears now drawn with purpose, not just precaution. Their gazes no longer held suspicion—they were filled with intent.

  Yuhana stood at the forefront, her obsidian bde already unsheathed. The gold inys shimmered ominously against the tension in the air. Despite our earlier exchanges, there was no hesitation in her stance. Her orders were clear. I was a threat. One the world couldn't afford to keep breathing.

  She didn't blink as she stepped toward me.

  "The st bearer nearly burned three nations to the ground," one of the guards growled, voice ced with venom. "We end this now, before history repeats itself."

  Twenty warriors surrounded me. I counted them as I breathed through the sting in my shoulder. No escape. Not without a bloodbath.

  Then, from the elevated dais, a voice pierced the tension.

  "Enough!" Princess Amira's voice rang out like a bell, sharp and firm.

  Yuhana paused mid-step, her bde still raised but unmoving.

  "Father," Amira turned to the king, her amber eyes abze, "if you strike him down now, you doom this kingdom."

  The king's cold stare didn't waver. "You saw what the ritual revealed. His soul is marred with sin."

  "And yet," she continued, unwavering, "the goddess still marked him. She granted him a title."

  A ripple moved through the crowd. The weight of her words was not lost on the court.

  "You told me yourself," Amira continued, "that only the chosen may receive a title—gifts bestowed by the divine. If he is truly cursed, then why would she allow him a title at all?"

  The king's eyes narrowed.

  She stepped forward, voice growing with each word. "Two of the sealed camities beneath our sacred grounds stir. The wards weaken. If they wake, the kingdom alone cannot hold them. You know this, uncle. We will need all three heroes at full strength."

  The silence that followed was broken only by the low murmur of wind against the pace walls.

  King Yusiah's gaze drifted to me. His eyes were those of a man who'd seen wars and betrayals. I didn't flinch.

  "You," he said, his voice deep as thunder, "will be given a single chance."

  I exhaled slowly, tension still winding through my spine.

  "Know this, outsider. The man who bore your title before you drowned nations in sin. His mere presence caused the sky to bleed and the earth to rot. He betrayed our trust and left this world in ashes."

  He stepped down from the throne, descending the steps one by one, voice like fire in the cold air.

  "Because of your title, you will receive no official aid from this kingdom—not until you prove you are not the same harbinger of ruin. No gold. No men. No sanctuary."

  The weight of his words crushed the air around me. But something inside me lit up like a fuse. The challenge.

  "I don't need your damn help," I said, my voice low but solid. "Just give me the shot."

  His lips twitched into something between a sneer and a smirk.

  "Very well. You shall be given a trial. One that proves whether your sins will consume you... or become your strength."

  He turned back to the court.

  "To all who question this path, remember: the reason we summon otherworlders is because they alone possess the Titles of the Goddess. Powers gifted only to those born outside this world. Each title holds unimaginable potential... each capable of evolving into something divine... or monstrous."

  He raised his hand toward Scion and Eleanor, both of whom still looked shaken, though Scion was doing his best to look cocky.

  "You two. Follow the steward. You'll be escorted to your chambers. Rest. Prepare. Your training begins at first light."

  Eleanor's eyes lingered on me, concern tugging at her usually composed features. Scion gave me a small nod. Whether it was respect or pity, I wasn't sure.

  A robed servant led the two out.

  The king turned back to me.

  "You, however, remain. The elders and I must deliberate on a trial befitting a man of your... nature."

  He motioned for the guards to lower their weapons, but none of them took their eyes off me as they stepped back.

  "Disappoint me," the king said, "and I will personally erase your existence from this world."

  The throne room emptied slowly, murmurs echoing in the marble halls as the nobles filed out. Princess Amira lingered by the door, her eyes locking with mine for a brief moment. There was no pity there... just curiosity. And maybe, a sliver of hope.

  Then she turned and left, the doors smming shut behind her.

  And I was alone, surrounded by cold stone and colder judgment. Trial or no trial, I knew one thing.

  This world had already decided what I was.

  Old men in yered robes bickered like market wives, their arguments echoing off polished marble walls and gilded columns. One elder smmed his cane against the floor, demanding more restrictions. Another insisted I should be executed outright to avoid repeating history.

  King Yusiah remained still on his throne, fingers rhythmically tapping the armrest. His golden crown glinted under the dying sunlight as the sun set above us. His eyes darkened with each passing minute.

  I sat on a cold bench below the throne, crossing one leg over the other.

  "Do they ever shut up?" I muttered under my breath. "This is why meetings should come with free snacks and a loaded .22 caliber."

  The guards fnking me didn't flinch. Yuhana, as still as a statue nearby, shot me a brief gre—but didn't speak. A smirk crept across her usually firm face. She didn't know what a .22 caliber was, but she must've guessed it was a weapon.

  Finally, after nearly an hour of noble throat-clearing and finger-pointing, a single voice cut through the noise.

  "That's enough," said Ahsan, the youngest of the council and probably the only one under fifty.

  His voice was calm, but it carried authority—a sharp contrast to the wheezing groans of his elders. His white robes, ced with midnight blue runes, swirled as he stepped forward.

  "If we waste more time bickering, we may not live long enough to see the results of any decision," he said, his eyes sweeping across the room.

  Yusiah raised an eyebrow, mildly intrigued. "You have a suggestion, Ahsan?"

  "I do." The young elder turned toward the king and pointed at me. "Let him handle one of our immediate threats—the weakening seal in the southern ruins."

  Whispers spread like wildfire through dry grass.

  "You mean—?" one councilor began.

  "Yes." Ahsan nodded. "The dragon. The Forbidden One. Taneen, the Camity of Destruction."

  I blinked a few times, caught off guard. "Wait... did you say dragon? As in scales, wings, and breathes-fire-hot-enough-to-turn-you-into-a-puddle dragon?"

  "A thousand years ago," Ahsan continued, ignoring my outburst, "a hero from the first summoning sealed Taneen beneath those ruins. Its hatred for the Sahara is legendary. Should it awaken, its wrath will fall on our nds first."

  "And you want me to sy it," I interjected, baffled by the sheer insanity of the suggestion. "Because tossing me into a volcano or tying me to a wyvern wasn't dramatic enough?"

  The elders were unusually silent.

  Ahsan smiled thinly. "If he succeeds, the dragon dies. If he fails... well, the problem solves itself. And we still have the other two heroes."

  I chuckled darkly. "Love the confidence. Real morale-boosting stuff."

  King Yusiah leaned forward, his gaze weighing me down like gold on a scale. "You've heard the terms. What say you?"

  "I say..." I rubbed the bridge of my nose and sighed. "I don't care if this dragon burns Sahara to ash. I'm not throwing myself at a thousand-year-old flying lizard for free."

  The guards stirred.

  "I'm not a sve anymore," I shouted, power swelling in my lungs. "Not to your kingdom. Not to any of you. In my old world, I got paid—crap money, mind you—but paid for every job. If I'm doing this, I want compensation. Forced or not, I'm charging for my services now."

  The room fell into an awkward silence.

  King Yusiah studied me for a long moment before speaking.

  "If you sy Taneen," he said slowly, "you will be granted three items of your choosing from the royal vault... and ten thousand copper pieces."

  A few elders gasped. Ahsan nodded in approval.

  "No soldiers. No coin upfront," the king continued. "You will do this alone, with only the power you possess—or can muster."

  I blew out a long breath, then shrugged. "Fine. Dragon syer for hire. I'll take it."

  "But," I added, raising my hand, "I want a room. Not a cell. Just a quiet space for a few days. I need time to get my head straight before I dive headfirst into some ancient monster's ir."

  The council predictably protested.

  "He should remain under watch!"

  "We cannot treat him like a guest!"

  "He carries the mark of sin!"

  Yusiah raised a single finger. The room fell dead silent.

  "He has one month," the king said. "To prepare within the castle walls. I will not command my servants or soldiers to assist him... but if any choose to, so be it."

  I couldn't help but smile. "Let me guess: no one's lining up to join Team Sin."

  He wasn't wrong. The gres, the whispers, the sheer unease in the room made that much clearer. I was a pariah. But at least now, I was going to have time—and freedom—to sort everything out. Three luxuries I haven't had in years.

  "Yuhana," Yusiah said firmly, "escort him to a suitable room in the east wing. Make sure it's comfortable... and guarded."

  Yuhana gave a short bow, then turned to me. "Follow me."

  As I stood and walked beside her, I gnced over my shoulder at the king. "Better hope your vault has some good stuff. I'm not dying for a rusty dagger and a sack of pennies."

  Yosiah didn't respond.

  But he smiled faintly, just for a second.

  I didn't like how smug he looked.

  Not one damn bit.

  An_Ordinary_Writer