Looking down on Terry, not because he was on some platform, but because the guy clearly thought he was better than everyone.
"Naked?" For a moment, even Terry got confused. He looked down, patted himself, but he wasn't naked at all. Full-sleeve white wear covered almost everything. The fabric was also thick, not see-through.
How the hell was that naked?
Terry saw the guy's armor again. Was that what he meant by naked? Armor?
But feeling how weak this body was, even silk robes felt heavy and irritating earlier. Armor would probably crush him.
"I'm fine," Terry said, walking up to the arena stage and standing opposite the bratty redhead.
Terry had no idea who this guy was. No names. No context. No memories of this body. Nothing. Deep inside he was kind of panicking too, would he be fine?
The redhead scoffed. "You're not just pathetic, now you're insane too?"
Terry didn't answer. No point. He didn't even know what this idiot's name was, let alone why he was so pissed. The body language said it all though, rival, enemy, whatever.
Probably grew up bullying everyone and getting away with it.
Terry looked around and saw the jam packed arena. Nobles. Soldiers. Commoners. Some in robes. Some in full armor. All of them watching like this was the only entertainment left for them.
A man standing on a raised platform at the far end of the arena slammed a staff on the stone floor.
"Silence. Let the trial begin," he said in a deep voice. No emotion. Like announcing a chess match.
The redhead turned to him. "I, Merrick Drenok, second son of the House, will bring back the Ghorok's head by dawn." His voice was sharp and clear, like he had done this before.
People clapped. Some cheered. One guy whistled.
Then all eyes turned to Terry.
He gave a small nod. "Yeah, I'm not sure about it."
The arena went silent again.
"What?" Merrick asked, confused.
"Why do that?"
"Huh? Are you backing out of the Heir Selection Ceremony now?"
Terry wanted to say yes, but then Jem's words echoed in his mind.
"No... I'm just saying, why do all of this? You want to win this Selection, take it."
"WHAT?" almost everyone said out loud.
Merrick's eyes turned red with rage. Both his hands gripped his twin swords, trembling as if holding himself back from drawing them and cutting down Terry.
Terry was totally confused by that reaction.
"What? What's wrong? Didn't I make myself clear?"
Merrick was grinding his teeth, you could hear it.
"I'm saying, the Heir or whatever is yours. You win."
THUMP!
Suddenly a loud thump of a staff rang out in the arena, it was that same old man announcer.
"Terry Drenok!" That voice echoed through the entire arena, the stone shaking from the call.
Terry felt his bones rattle from that voice.
"Are you mocking the sacred ceremony of Heir Selection?"
Suddenly Terry realized his mistake. Not sure what to do, he immediately tried to remember some movies or dramas for what to do next.
He gave a cup salute like a martial cultivator on one knee. "No, Elder, I do not dare mock the tradition and sacredness of the ceremony. The very heaven is my witness, let heavenly tribulations judge me if I am disrespectful to this sacred rite."
The arena got even more weirdly silent, and Terry felt the sudden weirdness all around him. He looked up and saw everyone's faces frozen in total confusion.
"FUCK! Wrong genre!" he cursed himself and stood up.
"Are you drunk?" Merrick finally spat out, still raging.
"No, I'm not. I'm simply saying you're the better Heir and deserve the title and position. So it's yours."
Merrick again went into a rage and almost pulled out his swords.
Terry felt the killing intent and took a few steps back. What's wrong with this dude? Why is he getting angry for no reason?
THUMP!
"The ceremony has been called, and it will happen, whether you like it or not," said the man Terry had assumed was the Elder, stepping in before Merrick could do something outrageous in his rage.
Terry wanted to retort, but the Elder shot him a glare.
"Instead of dawn, I'm giving you time until dusk tomorrow. Bring back the Ghorok's head to prove your worth, or don't."
THUMP!
That was the signal. The ceremony had officially begun. The crowd erupted in cheers, shouting and stomping as the arena roared to life.
Merrick turned to Terry again. "I knew you were scum, but trying to give me the Heir position out of pity? So the entire city can mock me for the rest of my life? That won't happen. I'll bring back the Ghorok's head and earn my right."
After that, rules were announced. In short, do it on your own; if any outside help or influence is detected, the trial will repeat, but the person who tries to interfere would be exiled from the House.
Jem was standing far as he watched his young lord in innerwear leaving for the Jungles of Brathen, part of House Drenok's territory, for the hunt of Ghorok.
"What kind of fool servant are you?" One of the guards came close to Jem. "Do you have some grudge with your young lord?" He mocked.
Jem was not sure if he should answer or not.
"You let your young lord walk out naked. Now he is going for a hunt naked, unprepared, no armor, weapons, or anything at all."
Jem was again not sure what to do now. As per the rules, he could not do anything else. Earlier, it was his young lord who, in a fit of anger, ordered him not to come close to him at all.
But he disobeyed that order, or else his young lord was planning to decline the ceremony.
Maybe he should have allowed it, because right now, his young lord was going towards a certain death.
Merrick looked one last time, gave Terry a disgusting look as he jumped and vanished into the jungle while Terry didn't want to take another step at all.