The following days passed in intensive preparation. Logan coordinated with Oziel about tournament structure, the Grandmaster contributing expertise about what rules would ensure fair competition while identifying genuine combat talent. They settled on single elimination format after preliminary qualifying rounds, fights continuing until one competitor yielded or was rendered unable to continue.

Healers were contracted from across the region, practitioners whose cultivation specialized in rapid injury treatment. Having adequate medical support was essential for maintaining tournament safety while allowing competitors to fight seriously.

The arena in Clearwater underwent rapid renovation, crews working extended hours to repair damage from years of neglect. The structure was sound, just requiring cosmetic improvements and reinforcement of protective barriers that would contain cultivation techniques from affecting spectators.

Invitations went out via message crystals, the magical communication ensuring rapid delivery across his entire domain. Logan's wording was precise, explaining both the round table gathering and the tournament while emphasizing that town heads should bring representatives from their villages.

Responses began arriving within days, each town head confirming attendance while providing estimates of how many village representatives would accompany them. The numbers suggested the gathering would include approximately sixty people, substantial crowd but manageable given the manor's size.

Tournament registrations flooded in once word spread beyond his domain. Warriors throughout the region recognized that prizes this substantial were rare opportunity, the combination of gold and potential recruitment into Count's personal knight order creating powerful motivation.

Within a week, Logan reported they had over three hundred registered competitors across all cultivation tiers. The Novice and Apprentice divisions were the largest, younger warriors seeking to prove themselves. The Expert division had a respectable showing of experienced fighters. Even the Master division attracted a dozen entrants despite that rank being relatively rare.

"Three hundred competitors," Raze said when Logan presented the numbers. "That's going to take significant time to run through preliminaries."

"Three days for the complete tournament if we run multiple matches simultaneously," Logan calculated. "Day one for Novice and Apprentice preliminaries and early rounds. Day two for Expert and Master preliminaries plus continuing the lower divisions. Day three for all finals."

"That works," Raze agreed. "The town heads will be present for the entire duration anyway. Having the tournament span multiple days gives them entertainment while we conduct round table sessions between matches."

Fedora visited during this preparation period, her interest in the tournament evident despite initial skepticism about hosting such an event.

"You're spending six thousand gold on prize money," she observed, reviewing Logan's documentation. "That's substantial commitment."

"Investment," Raze corrected. "The knight order needs expansion, and this provides an efficient recruitment mechanism while generating goodwill throughout my domain."

"My father would approve," Fedora said. "He's always valued martial excellence. Hosting a tournament of this scale will enhance your house's reputation significantly."

"That's a secondary benefit," Raze replied. "Primary goal is identifying talent for the knights and demonstrating to my town heads that I'm committed to protecting the domain properly."

Slith was coiled around Fedora's shoulders as always, the tiny serpent's tongue flicking out occasionally to taste the air. The creature had grown slightly over the past weeks, no longer quite as diminutive though still far from the massive size it would eventually reach.

"When do you depart for Clearwater?" Fedora asked.

"Three days before the gathering," Raze said. "That provides time to ensure everything is prepared properly and allows me to personally inspect the manor before using it to host sixty people."

"I'll visit during the tournament," Fedora said. "Royal presence will add legitimacy to the event, and I want to observe the competitors myself. Some of them might prove valuable beyond just your knight order."

The final preparations accelerated as the departure date approached. Raze packed essential items while reviewing the remarks he'd prepared for the round table gathering. Logan had provided comprehensive briefing materials about each town's priorities, giving him foundation for addressing their concerns meaningfully.

Oziel assembled the twenty current knights, their escort for traveling to Clearwater and their presence during the tournament. The Grandmaster would serve as chief referee, his cultivation rank sufficient to intervene in any match regardless of the competitors' strength.

Sophie was disappointed about missing the tournament, her academy schedule preventing attendance. But she made Raze promise to tell her everything about the fights, particularly if anyone demonstrated abilities that seemed unusual or exceptional.

The morning of departure arrived with clear weather that suggested favorable conditions for travel. Raze stood in his estate's courtyard as servants loaded the carriage with supplies, Bephe sitting at his feet with a visible heart pulsing steadily.

Logan appeared with final checklist, verifying everything was prepared. "The manor staff in Clearwater have been notified of our arrival. Town heads are en route, most should reach Clearwater within two days. Tournament competitors are already gathering, the arena is prepared, healers are contracted and ready."

"Then we're ready," Raze confirmed.

The journey to Clearwater took most of the day, the central location within his domain meaning they crossed through multiple regions. Raze observed everything carefully, noting conditions of roads and villages they passed, mental catalog of details that would inform future governance decisions.

They arrived as evening approached, the town larger than Raze remembered from his brief previous visits. Clearwater occupied a strategic position where three major roads converged, the location's commercial importance evident in the substantial market district and prosperous looking buildings.

The new manor dominated the town's center, three story structure that projected authority without excessive ostentation. The building was impressive, stone construction with architectural details that balanced function with aesthetic appeal. Logan had chosen well when selecting this location as his domain's administrative center.

Staff welcomed them at the entrance, the manor's permanent employees having prepared for their arrival. Raze was shown to quarters on the second floor, spacious rooms that would serve as his primary residence during extended stays in Clearwater.

The main hall where the round table would occur occupied most of the ground floor, vast space with high ceiling and excellent acoustics. A massive round table had been constructed specifically for this gathering, the circular design ensuring no position was inherently superior to any other.

"Symbolic," Logan explained when Raze examined the table. "Everyone sits as equals during discussions, regardless of their town's size or wealth. Encourages open dialogue."

"Good thinking," Raze agreed, recognizing the psychological impact would be significant.

The arena stood perhaps ten minutes walk from the manor, the structure visible from upper floor windows. Crews had done excellent work renovating it, the stone seating repaired and protective barriers reinforced. Banners bearing the Dragonheart crest hung throughout, blue and silver colors announcing whose authority sponsored this event.

That evening, Raze met with Oziel to finalize tournament details.

"Rules are established," Oziel reported, his scarred face showing satisfaction. "Single elimination after qualifying rounds. Matches continue until yield or incapacitation, but lethal techniques are prohibited. I'll oversee personally with senior knights serving as referees for simultaneous matches."

"How are you dividing the preliminary rounds?" Raze asked.

"By cultivation tier first," Oziel explained. "Within each tier, random bracket assignments. Some competitors will be disappointed if they face strong opponents early, but that's tournament reality. We're identifying talent, not guaranteeing everyone advances based on perceived fairness."

"The prizes are prepared?"

"Six thousand gold secured in the manor's treasury," Oziel confirmed. "We'll display it publicly during the opening ceremony. Letting competitors see that much gold creates powerful motivation."

They discussed additional details, technical considerations about match timing and how to handle disputes. Oziel had clearly thought everything through with his characteristic thoroughness, the Grandmaster's combat experience translating into competent tournament management.

The following two days saw town heads arriving with their entourages. Each delegation was greeted formally, shown to their accommodations, and provided schedule for the round table gathering. The village representatives arrived gradually, many of them clearly awed by the manor and the tournament preparations.

Raze made a point of greeting each town head personally, brief conversations that established rapport before the formal discussions began. Their reactions varied from cautious optimism to genuine enthusiasm, most of them recognizing this gathering represented an unprecedented opportunity to influence domain governance.

Competitors continued arriving until registration closed the evening before the tournament's start. Logan's final count showed three hundred seventeen registered participants, the number slightly exceeding initial projections.

The night before everything officially began, Raze stood on the manor's third floor balcony overlooking Clearwater. The town was alive with activity, competitors and spectators filling every available accommodation. Temporary camps had formed outside the walls, people who couldn't secure indoor lodging but refused to miss the event.

Bephe sat beside him, the small apex predator's amber eyes tracking movement throughout the town with predatory awareness. The creature had grown noticeably over recent weeks, now perhaps the size of a medium dog rather than the tiny form it had initially manifested as.

"Tomorrow starts everything," Raze said quietly, not really expecting a response from the prehistoric creature.

Bephe's visible heart pulsed steadily, rhythm suggesting either agreement or simple contentment at being near his bonded human.

Logan appeared on the balcony, joining Raze's observation. "The round table gathering begins at midday tomorrow. Tournament opening ceremony occurs in the morning, first matches start immediately after. Everything is prepared."

"You've done exceptional work," Raze said sincerely. "Organizing all of this in two weeks was an ambitious timeline."

"That's what you pay me for," Logan replied, though satisfaction was evident in his tone. "Tomorrow we demonstrate what competent governance looks like. Your town heads will see you're committed to their input, the tournament will identify talent for the knights, and word will spread throughout the region about Count Dragonheart's leadership."

"No pressure then," Raze said with slight smile.

"Considerable pressure," Logan corrected. "But nothing you can't handle. You've survived worse than administrative challenges and tournament hosting."

The steward departed, leaving Raze alone with his thoughts and Bephe's steady presence.

Tomorrow would bring the round table gathering, dozens of officials and representatives looking to him for leadership. The tournament would attract hundreds of spectators, warriors competing for prizes and recognition. Everything was prepared, plans were set, logistics were managed.

Now he just needed to execute it all without anything going catastrophically wrong.

The night deepened over Clearwater, the town settling into anticipatory quiet before tomorrow's events. Somewhere in that darkness, three hundred warriors prepared for competition. Sixty officials prepared for governance discussions. And one transmigrator who'd been nobody prepared to demonstrate he'd earned the authority thrust upon him.

The round table would happen. The tournament would proceed. And Count Dragonheart would prove himself worthy of the domain he'd been granted.

Tomorrow would be interesting.

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