A deep silence filled the air between King Jora and Zeek as the door closed behind Angela. Breaking the stillness, the King let out a raspy cough. He leaned back in his luxurious leather chair, interlocking his fingers, and began to speak. "Now, Zeek. Let's discuss the tournament." He paused for a moment, his expression thoughtful. "I'm certain Angela gave you the gist of why the tournament is held, but I doubt she knows the specifics as she wasn't alive to experience the last one." 

Zeek leaned forward, anticipation radiating off him. He couldn't help but ask, "How strong are the other summoned heroes?" A smirk crossed King Jora's face as he recalled his time in the tournament. "It varies, depending on the summoner's power. The last two summoned heroes in Estaria were incredibly weak - one was a young wizard from a school called Hogwarts, and the other was just a normal human. It was quite disappointing, to be honest." He sighed, "Luckily, Angela was able to take over this year, and she summoned you."

"To better answer your question, based on what I've seen in the last four tournaments, there were a handful of incredible warriors. In the one I fought in, a death-defying man named Deadpool won; no matter how many times he was dismembered, he never died. His martial arts abilities were profound. After that, a Lich King who went by the name of Ainz won; his magic items were unbelievably powerful. The last two tournaments have been quite uneventful; none of the other kingdoms could summon anyone worth mentioning, and the winners were executed. The Empire had been greatly displeased and demanded that every kingdom search for the strongest mages to do the summoning this time around."

Zeek felt a chill run down his spine as he contemplated the heroes he might be up against. He thought to himself, "I should assume they will all be of equal strength or stronger. I'd hate to underestimate them and risk being killed." 

The King continued, "There are 18 heroes, including the Empire's summoned hero. There will be 15 matches, and the heroes of each match will be chosen randomly. You must win four matches to be declared champion. 

He sighed, dragging his hand down his face, "Each kingdom must list resources and other things they are willing to offer as a reward. The victor of each match chooses what they'd like based on what's offered. And if you lose a match later in the tournament, the victor will gain whatever you won previously plus their choice of what your kingdom offered."

" And what is it that you offered?" 

King Jora's frown darkened as he spoke, his words heavy with sorrow. "I'm sure you noticed how terrible things are outside the palace walls. Unfortunately, all I could offer this time around was the throne. Offering my daughters was also an option, but I could never bring myself to do such a horrendous thing. I'd much rather die if I'm being honest." 

Zeek gave an understanding nod, feeling deep empathy for the King for having to bear the weight of a kingdom already in such a wretched state. He smiled, his voice warm and strong. "Don't worry too much. This year, Estaria will be the victor."

" I'll Hold you to that Zeek. I'm counting on you." 

The door to the meeting room creaked open, and Lydia timidly stepped through the threshold. King Jora's eyes twinkled with radiant joy, tinged with a hint of sadness as he gazed upon Lydia.

Lydia took her place standing behind Zeek. Her eyes cast downwards in an apologetic manner. She curtsied deeply and said softly, almost pleadingly, "Your Highness, please forgive me. I am responsible for Zeek's delay this morning." 

King Jora waved reassuringly, "No need to apologize to me. It's Zeek you should be saying sorry to."

Zeek looked at Lydia with a newfound warmth in his eyes. His heart filled with a tenderness he had never felt for someone his age. He was moved by the fragile state she had been in the night before and felt an inexplicable connection to her.

King Jora continued, "But it looks like he doesn't mind, so let's not dwell on it any longer. Why don't you take Zeek over to the training grounds? He could use a good workout before lunch."

Zeek rose to his feet and made his suggestion, "That sounds like a good idea. Let's go, Lydia." He took her hand with a firm yet gentle grip and pulled her along with him. 

"Wait, Master. Please! You don't know where you're going. Let me lead you!" Lydia's cheeks flamed in embarrassment as she tried to contain her irritation with Zeek's disregard for protocol. "Stop doing as you please!" The two hurried from the room, leaving King Jora with a bright smile. 

King Jora sighed and mumbled, " I hope you can find happiness here, Lydia." 

.... 

Zeek and Lydia entered the training area of the palace, a sizable courtyard at the center of a building that functioned as barracks for the kingdom's non-existent army. Everything was still well-kept, with practice dummies and free weights decorating the walls. 

"I doubt any of this equipment can handle my strength," Zeek said skeptically.

Lydia pointed off to the side. "This equipment is designed specifically for Heroes. Those free weights are enhanced with magic, and so is the courtyard." 

Zeek sauntered over, hefting a weight off the rack. "Whoa, this is light-" Before he could finish, the weight suddenly plummeted to the ground, sending Zeek scrambling to hold on. The force of the weight left a dent in the magically-reinforced floor. 

"Holy crap, why's it so heavy all of a sudden?" 

Lydia giggled. "The weights adjust to the user's power, going just beyond what they can physically lift." 

Zeek smirked and managed to stand, still holding the dumbbell. Gritting his teeth, he slowly lifted it off the ground and stood tall, his body trembling with the immense weight. He attempted to do a curl, managing just one before dropping the weight in exhaustion. The weight bounced off the ground as if it weighed nothing.

Zeek wiped the drop of sweat that had formed on his forehead, his chest rising and falling rapidly. He glanced up at Lydia, his eyes filled with determination. "Lydia, could you get me a change of clothes and a towel? I think I'm going to need it." 

Lydia nodded, and her eyes widened as if a thought had just occurred to her. "Oh, right! Let me take your measurements before I go - I meant to take them last night, but," she paused, her cheeks flushing as she remembered how they had fallen asleep together the night before, "But as you know, things happened."

Zeek chuckled, his lips curling into a smirk as he removed his shirt. 

Lydia produced a measuring string from her pocket, her fingers shaking slightly as she stepped closer. "Now raise your arms and stay still," she ordered firmly, focusing intently on the task at hand.

Lydia glided in front of Zeek, so close he could smell the floral scent of the shampoo she had used that morning. With her face just inches away from his bare chest, she carefully took his measurements. His scent was irresistible, sending warmth surging through her veins. 

Accidentally, her gaze met Zeek's, who looked at her passionately. Her heart skipped a beat, and she quickly diverted her eyes, mumbling, "I think I'll take the rest of the measurements from behind now." Lydia couldn't help but wonder why he had looked at her so ardently. 

After finishing the measurements, Lydia announced, "Okay, I'll be back soon with your clothes, Master. If you get thirsty, there's a well with fresh water over there." With that, she left the courtyard, leaving behind the lingering scent of her shampoo.

Zeek mumbled to himself, "She's so cute," as he picked up the free weights, one in each hand. He braced himself, anticipating the weight change, and immediately felt the force attempting to pull him down. He gritted his teeth and began to do repetitions, feeling the muscles in his arms gradually tearing and rebuilding.

After about an hour, Zeek could barely move his arms up and down. "That's it for arms, I guess," he muttered, his eyes drawn to a strange vest near the free weights. 

Curiosity got the better of him, and he walked over, slipping it on. Immediately, the vest changed weight - it was so heavy that Zeek felt his feet crack the floor, creating an imprint in the hard ground beneath him. His body shook from the overwhelming force, but he refused to fall to his knees. He attempted to lift it off his shoulders, but His arms were too exhausted to remove the vest. 

Zeek's mind raced as he considered ways to remove the vest. An idea came to him, and he said, "I hope this works," as he stepped forward, breaking the ground beneath him.

With the next step, he created a foothold in the air and used all his strength to fly as high as possible. Zeek made it about 20 feet off the ground before he flipped in the air, using gravity to slide the burdensome vest off his body. No longer in contact with his body, the vest floated down to the floor like a feather.

Zeek gracefully landed on his feet, his breath coming heavy. He chuckled as he said, "Maybe next time I'll start with legs first." Lydia entered the courtyard, her arms filled with clothes and a towel. He called out to her, "Right on time, Lydia. Toss me the towel, please." 

The sweat that clung to Zeek's body glinted in the sunlight, captivating Lydia's attention and holding her in a trance. 

He waved his hand in front of her face and said, "Hello?" attempting to break her out of her reverie.

She shook her head and threw the towel at him, a meek voice asking in a hopeful tone, "Would you like me to dress you, or are you going to dress yourself like you did yesterday?" 

Zeek wiped his body down with the towel and smirked. He knew she was easy to tease, so he said, "I don't know, Lydia. Isn't it your job to do these things for me? Are you asking because you want to do it yourself?" He approached her, stopping only inches away. 

Lydia's mind flashed back to the washroom from the day before. The memory of their naked bodies intertwined brought heat to her cheeks and a flutter to her heart. 

Just as she opened her mouth to speak, Zeek took the clothes from her and said in a playful tone, "You make this too easy, Lydia. I can't help myself when you act like this." 

The comment tore her from her daydream, and she puffed her cheeks out, "Stop bullying me!" But a slight smirk formed on her face. She was enjoying Zeek's presence, however stressful it may be. This was the most fun she'd had in her entire life.

Lydia turned away as Zeek stripped shamelessly. He changed into the clothes she brought and smiled. " Wow, Lydia, you did a great job measuring me. These fit perfectly." He patted her on the head.

Zeek's muscles tensed as an icy chill coursed through his body. A powerful aura filled the air, and Zeek slowly turned his gaze skyward. 

Squinting against the sun, he saw a figure in the distance, their cape fluttering in the breeze. Zeek stepped in front of Lydia without hesitation, instinctively shielding her from the stranger. She trembled behind him, and he fixed the figure sternly. "What do you want," he said, his voice like steel, "Don't you know it's rude to show up somewhere unannounced?" 

The figure descended until they were standing just before Zeek. His suit glistened in the sunlight, and Zeek could make out the vibrant red, white, and blue of his cape. The stranger smirked, "The first match's opponents were just announced, and I came to see who I'd be embarrassing. You were easy to spot with all this filth surrounding the area. I doubt this place will be able to offer me anything of Value." His gaze shifted to Lydia, and he added, "Oh ho, Maybe I'll take her as my reward after I kill you." 

Zeek ground his teeth together, feeling the rage surging through him. He kept his hand steady as he extended it to the figure. "How kind of you," he said, forcing a smile, "I hadn't heard anything about that announcement yet. It's a pleasure meeting you. My name is Zeek Mora."

The stranger's cape billowed in the wind as he looked at Zeek's outstretched hand in disgust. He obliged Zeek, and their hands met in a vise-like grip. Zeek could feel the stranger's muscles tense, and the veins in his arms bulge as they squeezed each other's hands with all their might. Locked in a fierce gaze, their faces were unwavering, neither one willing to break. Zeek felt and heard the bones in the stranger's hand break as he continued to squeeze. The bones in his hand began to crack under the pressure, yet he did not relent.

Finally, the stranger flinched and broke their handshake. He spat on the ground and said in a menacing tone, "My name is Homelander, cuck. Enjoy your little girlfriend while you can because I'll be taking her and everything else from this shitty kingdom." With that, Homelander took to the air and flew off into the distance. 

Zeek shook the pain out of his hand, watching as Homelander disappeared. Lydia tugged at his shirt, and he smiled, "Sorry, Lydia, let's head inside. I need to talk to the King." 

Lydia took Zeek's hand in hers and examined it. His hand had turned a deep purple from the broken bones and blood vessels. "Oh my God! Are you okay?" she asked with concern. 

Zeek shook his head despite the intense throbbing in his hand. "It's just a fracture, Lydia. I'm sure it will heal in a day or two." 

Lydia's brows furrowed, worry written all over her face. "At least let me wrap it up for you." Without delay, Lydia grabbed the towel Zeek had been using to dry his sweat. She carefully wound it around his hand, her hands glowing with a magical light. 

The pain slowly faded away until it was gone entirely. Zeek looked up to Lydia, astonished by the feat she had just accomplished. "You can use mana? And you can heal injuries?" His admiration was evident in his voice. But Lydia remained solemn. 

"Yes, I can heal most injuries. But I'm powerless against mortal wounds or diseases." She stared at the ground in shame. "What use is this power if I couldn't even save my mother?" 

Zeek felt her anguish. He gently lifted her chin until she looked into his eyes. He wanted to kiss her, but instead, he smiled and said, "There are some things that are completely out of our control, Lydia. I'm sure your mother is watching over you proudly wherever she may be." 

Lydia felt a warmth in her chest and fought the urge to cry. She could sense the sincerity in Zeek's voice, and unconsciously, a spark of love formed within her heart. 

Zeek removed his hand and grinned. "Now, let's go. I'm starving. You up for some lunch before we go see the King?"

Lydia nodded, and they set off towards the palace kitchen.