No one could have predicted the winner Keter chose. He didn’t pick Sword Dragon Rajis, who had the highest chance of winning and would show that he was just acting tough, nor did he go for Red Wolf Pashian, who was second-best and would show that he wasn’t as smart as he seemed. He didn’t even choose Gillion, the person with twelve-to-one odds that Aleron expected.0

“He’s betting ten million gold on everyone being eliminated?!”0

“He didn’t even pick a person! Why did he say ‘him’?”1

“Maybe he doesn’t understand how this betting game works. Otherwise, how could he make such a foolish choice...?”0

The bet that everyone would be eliminated was a one hundred-to-one payout. What that meant was clear: Keter thought that out of the fifty knights carefully selected by Aleron, not a single one would become the Sword of the South. It was a simple but absurd proposition.3

Many nobles had placed their bets. Those truly hoping to win money had wagered hundreds of thousands of gold on the top three contenders. The lower-ranked knights had far fewer bets placed on them, but it was more for entertainment than real hope. Some nobles, treating it as a game, bet on knights from their own houses or even on mere second-star knights.0

But nobody—not a single gold coin—was wagered on everyone losing. It was like tossing money straight into the gutter.0

“Lord Keter, this betting game is about predicting who will win the Sword of the South title. And for fairness, I only selected knights that everyone acknowledges as worthy,” said Aleron. 0

The nobles around him all nodded. Though the odds were suspiciously generous, the roster itself was flawless. Imagining someone outside that list winning was nearly impossible.0

“And yet, my lord, why did you choose to wager on everyone losing? If you truly wanted to win my merchant company, you should have picked someone with...0