The stadium soon grew louder as a massive crowd filled the seats. The air shook with excitement, banners waved, and the sound of drums echoed through the arena. One by one, the great figures began to appear, each commanding attention in their own way. Roosevelt the First Prince his footsteps were heavy and steady, surrounded by his followers. They were broad men, scarred from battles, carrying the kind of presence that only veterans of war could have. The crowd roared for them, clapping and shouting.Their voices were carried far across the stone walls of the colosseum. They looked fierce, seasoned, and every gesture reminded people of battlefields soaked with blood and honor. Not long after, Rein, the Second Prince, entered with his group. Unlike Roosevelt’s warriors, his followers looked scholarly, dressed in robes and armor with refined marks. Their gazes were sharp, thoughtful, as if they studied the situation rather than rushed into it. Among them, Kael’s eyes caught Adele, her expression dark and unreadable. He thought silently to himself, "Vale and Elena have been knocked out... Nice..." Other minor princes arrived afterward. They walked tall, trying to gain attention, though their steps lacked the weight of Roosevelt and Rein. The people clapped for them out of courtesy, but it was clear they weren’t favored. Still, Kael kept his thoughts sharp. "Who knows," he muttered to himself, "there might be a hidden dragon among them." So offending them wasn’t good so Kael offered a simple bow to them. Kael then watched the grand gathering, his eyes moving from one side of the arena to the other. His voice came out firm as he muttered, "Is this even the right way to choose succession? Won’t it lead to a blood bath." The group turned their attention to him at those words. Martina, who stood with her usual confident stance, gave a small nod before answering. "Don’t worry. It’s gonna take place in a virtual realm crafted by Grand Mages" Her voice was calm, but her eyes shone with a strange sharpness that told Kael she meant every word. Moments later, the atmosphere shifted. A group of mages appeared, robes flowing as their staff tapped against the ground. At the front stood Pleard, the Emperor’s right hand, a man whose presence made the whole stadium fall silent. His stern eyes swept over the place as he turned toward the Emperor. The Emperor, sitting high on his throne, waved his hand with dignity. His voice was deep and steady as he spoke. "Commence the Crown Games." His fingers stroked his beard while his gaze remained fixed on the stage. ɴᴇᴡ ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀʀᴇ ᴘᴜʙʟɪsʜᴇᴅ ᴏɴ 𝓷𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓵⟡𝓯𝓲𝓻𝓮⟡𝓷𝓮𝓽 Pleard bowed his head and stepped forward, his voice echoing through the colosseum, carried by magic so everyone could hear. "Ladies and gentlemen, the moment you have been waiting for has arrived." The crowd erupted into cheers and claps, their excitement breaking like waves against the walls. "It is time to witness the shift of history as we allow the youngsters to take the stage and carry the burdens of the old," Pleard continued, his tone filled with weight. Every word seemed to dig deep into the hearts of those listening. He turned to the groups of contenders standing on the stage. "In this trial, you will be assigned to a major historical battle. The leader of each squad will choose a draw, and according to it, your side will be decided." His voice grew louder as the mages around him raised their staffs, and sparks of magic filled the air. "Your job is to make a major contribution to the side you are in and force them to recognize you," he explained, his hand raised to silence the cheering crowd. "The result will be determined by the achievements you make at the end, from the smallest to the greatest." He paused, letting the tension build, then added, "Now you might wonder if all of you will take part in the same historical event. The answer is yes. You may join the same camp or be placed in different ones according to the draws but in the end, your job is to outshine the others." "Now as per rules.You can bring at best 10 followers of yours.As per strength,there are no limitations in their rank however the followers must be around your age.You can’t bring old experience guys with yours."As Pleard said this his eyes scanned and fell on the Fifth Prince who trembled. "Did you understand?" The Fifth Prince gulped and looked at the side. "Sorry your Highness,it seems I can’t be of any help to you." "The time in the virtual world would be quite slow compared to ours.All the major battles will be broadcasted." As soon as he said this,several magic screens appeared over the sky. "Each side will have their own screen to look for." The audience leaned forward, listening to every detail. "According to your ranks, step forward with your squads and choose from the box." With a simple snap of Pleard’s fingers, a large wooden box appeared in front of him, glowing with strange magic. At the same time, dozens of glowing magic circles formed around the stage, swirling together until they connected into a giant vortex. The energy hummed and pulsed, making the ground vibrate slightly under their feet. Pleard then raised his hand high and called out the first name. "First Prince Roosevelt De Luther!" "Please come to the stage and draw your lot." Roosevelt gave a brief nod and walked ahead with his followers. The crowd burst into applause and cheers, chanting his name. Roosevelt walked forward slowly, his heavy steps carrying pride. His followers stood tall behind him, chests puffed, as though they already claimed victory. Reaching the box, Roosevelt placed his hand inside and drew out a parchment. The stadium grew quiet. Pleard looked at him with a steady gaze. "Tear it. You will be teleported in." Roosevelt gave a firm nod, his face showing no hesitation. He raised the parchment and tore it in half. In the same instant, a flash of bright light burst out, swallowing him and his entire group. With a single breath, they were gone, leaving behind an echo of cheers from the people who watched with wide eyes.