### Chapter 3: The Festival of Futility
Solhaven's Festival of Heroes was Elrik's big break. "This is my montage," he declared, ignoring his D-Rank badge. The festival had tournaments, magic contests, and a "Hero's Speech" event. Elrik signed up for the speech, scripting a banger about his destined greatness. He practiced in his attic, shouting, "I am Elrik, the one who will surpass the gods!" His landlady, Mrs. Grubble, banged the ceiling. "Quiet, loser!"
At the festival, Kael won the sword tournament with one swing. Lyria's firework spell lit the sky. Zane won "Best Pose" by existing. Elrik's speech was last, after a bard's lute solo. He stepped onto the stage, heart pounding. "People of Aeloria, I—"
**"LEEEEROOOOY JEEEKINS!"** A dragon crashed the festival, and Leeroy sprinted in, wielding a *rye loaf*, screaming, "I'VE GOT THIS!" The crowd cheered. Kael's party leapt into action, swords and spells blazing. Elrik kept shouting his speech, but a fireball singed his tunic, and he dove behind a fruit stall. Leeroy, somehow, clubbed a dragon wing with his loaf, stealing the spotlight. Kael finished the beast, naturally.
The festival resumed. Elrik's speech slot was replaced by a dog show. Mira found him sulking. "Heard Leeroy interrupted you," she said, offering a cookie. "Fireworks?" Elrik, cookie in hand, nodded. His ambition flickered. *"Next year."*