Soulbrand

By Andrew Rowe

This is a work of fiction. All characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this book are fictional.

Copyright © 2020 Andrew Rowe

Cover Artwork by Daniel Kamarudin

All rights reserved.

ISBN: n/a for Kindle Edition

File Version: 7-6-2021

DEDICATION

For Andrew Warren and Heather Crosthwaite. Keep that fire burning.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Dedication

Table of Contents

Map of Kaldwyn

Style Notes

Recap – Magic and Terms

Recap – Six Sacred Swords and Diamantine

Prologue – Tales of Destiny

Chapter I – Vanishing Omen

Chapter II – Full Metal Body

Chapter III – King’s Crests

Chapter IV – Blade Dance

Chapter V – Limit Breaker

Chapter VI – Symbol of Fire

Chapter VII – Almost Certain Doom

Chapter VIII – A Saga of Romance

Chapter IX – Odyssey Regained

Chapter X – Requiem

Chapter XI – Lost Legacy

Chapter XII – Thousands of Arms

Chapter XIII – Eternal Tales

Chapter XIV – Shadow of a Deadly Thief

Chapter XV – Dark Project for a Backup Bandit

Chapter XVI – Alliance for Vengeance

Chapter XVII – Dungeon Hack

Chapter XVIII – The Dungeon’s Master

Chapter XIX – Fading Light

Chapter XX – Reforging Hope

Chapter XXI – Artifact Aquisition

Chapter XXII – Of Might and Magic

Chapter XXIII – Shadow Caster

Chapter XXIV – Heart of Shadows

Chapter XXV – Dragon Warrior

Chapter XXVI – Swords and Serpents

Chapter XXVII – Hollow Knight

Chapter XXVIII – Absence of Fate

Chapter XXIX – Vermillion Sword

Chapter XXX – Broken Blade

Chapter XXXI – Darkened Souls

Chapter XXXII – Weapons & Wielders

Chapter XXXIII – Trails Across the Sky

Epilogue – Elegy to a Lost Age

Appendix I – Attunements of East Edria

Appendix II – Characters

Acknowledgements

About the Author

Other Books by Andrew Rowe

MAP OF KALDWYN

The map above shows the continent of Kaldwyn, where this novel takes place. It is divided into four major nations — Valia, Edria, Caelford, and Dalenos. Each major nation has one or more of the Soaring Spires; these are also shown on the map.

This book takes place on the Arena Island, which is a floating island that moves throughout the book. The island begins in Kassel on the west coast of Edria.

STYLE NOTES

Some characters within the story communicate telepathically. To indicate this, rather than using quotes, I use different forms of punctuation based on the character initiating the telepathic communication.

I use angle brackets to indicate telepathy from one of the characters. For example, <This would be their form of telepathic communication.>

I use other forms of brackets for telepathy from other characters, such as square brackets and double square brackets. For example, [This is used for most minor characters.] [[This is another major character’s format.]]

This formatting difference is to make it immediately obvious which character is sending the telepathic message without repeatedly using dialogue tags or other indicators. The specific characters in question should be clear once the story actually reaches them.

I use the singular “they/them” for agender and non-binary characters, as well as characters that have not had their gender determined by the narrator yet. For example, “I didn’t know who wrote the note, but they had a peculiar style of writing”.

Finally, I use spaces before and after em dashes (AP style). This is purely because I find this style easier to read.

RECAP – MAGIC AND TERMS

Keras’ Notes on Locations and Terms

Attunements are the local form of magic in this region of the world. They come in the form of a mark similar to the dominion marks from my homeland, but they seem more complex.

The attunement itself changes as the user grows more powerful, and it generates an aura that shifts in color based on the strength of the user. Each time the color shifts, it also apparently unlocks more functions of the attunement itself, giving the wielder additional powers. For this reason, people identify the attunement levels with color-themed names.

- Quartz (Clear) is the first level. People at this level have access to two types of magic based on the attunement itself.

- Carnelian (Red) is the second level. At this point, most attunements generate something called a shroud, which is a defensive barrier. Wish I had one of those. Sounds like it’d save me from a lot of injuries.

- Sunstone (Orange) is the third level. At this point, the attuned can suppress their power, making it harder to detect.

- Citrine (Yellow) is the fourth level. I always get this one and Carnelian mixed up. Notably, at this level, they seem to get access to a third type of mana.

- Emerald (Green) is the fifth level. This is notably rare, with only a few people publicly known to be Emeralds in any given nation. This supposedly allows them to use ambient mana more effectively. I’m not sure exactly what that means — maybe it improves their shaping ability? It’s also possible it lets them drain ambient mana to recharge their own supply, I’m not sure.

- Sapphire (Blue) is a sixth level that apparently no one has actually seen. I’m sure I’ll run into someone with that level eventually, and based on how things tend to go, they’ll probably try to kill me immediately.

Things are categorized differently back home on Mythralis.

Dominions refer to the power sources for our sorcery. They’re other planes of existence that we can reach into to gather material and accomplish sorcerous effects.

Sorcerers are people who have the ability to utilize the dominions to cast spells. For example, flame sorcerers reach into the plane of flame to draw power for their spells.

To accomplish this, a sorcerer expends some of their own essence (or what you’d call mana) related to the type of magic they’re trying to use. This essence cost has a noticeable effect on the body related to the type of magic.

For example, casting a flame spell draws on body heat. Using stone sorcery taxes the muscles and bones. And most information gathering spells, like knowledge sorcery, cost memories.

Most sorcerers can only use a couple types of magic, and usually, this is because they were born with a strong connection with those dominions. People can learn to pick up other types of sorcery, but it’s much more difficult.

It’s also worth noting that there are two different ways in which people tend to specialize in using any given type of sorcery.

Calling is the process of conjuring raw essence or materials from another plane.

Shaping is moving or altering essence or material that’s already present in our world.

People who specialize in one form or another are referred to as Callers or Shapers for that type of magic. For example, someone who specializes in conjuring fire is a “Flamecaller”, and someone who manipulates existing fire is a “Flameshaper”. This doesn’t mean they can’t do both to some degree — most people learn a little bit of both. But most sorcerers specialize in one or the other.

My specialty was Metal Shaping, but I could also do a bit of Stone Shaping and Flame Calling. I also had one more dominion I couldn’t quite control properly, which was tied to my sword, the Sae’kes. I didn’t know exactly what it was, but I generally called it something like the Dominion of Annihilation. It seemed to disintegrate anything it came in contact with, with the exception of my own body.

Kaldwyn has several major nations, and a few of them are going to be relevant in this part of the tale. They are:

- Valia – The nation on the eastern coast of the continent of Kaldwyn. Home to the Serpent Tower and the Lorian Heights Academy.

- Edria – An imperialistic southern nation, where this part of the story takes place. They conquered Kelridge during the Six Years War and nearly conquered Valia as well.

- Caelford – A technologically advanced nation on the western coast of the continent. They’re allied with Valia.

- Dalenos – A theocracy that covers most of the northern side of the continent.

- Kelridge – A territory that was a part of Dalenos prior to the Six Years War. Conquered by Edria and now known as East Edria.

Calendar System:

Kaldwyn uses a twelve month calendar, with each month having exactly thirty days. Their week is six days long, with each day dedicated to a visage, and thus there are five weeks per month.

Days of the Week:

- Tashday

- Kyrsday

- Fersday

- Tensday

- Vasday

- Wyddsday

RECAP – SIX SACRED SWORDS AND DIAMANTINE

It’s been a while since I told the first part of my story, so let me give you a bit of a reminder. I’ll keep it brief, so I can get into the good stuff as quickly as possible.

I’m Keras Selyrian. That’s not my birth name, though. I’ve been using it since coming to this continent as a way to avoid undue attention from other agents from my home continent, Mythralis.

I came to Kaldwyn with a mission. I was supposed to gain information and resources while waiting for the rest of my team to arrive, after which we’d do some diplomacy with Selys, your local goddess. I expected that my friends would find me easily enough when they arrived.

That obviously didn’t work out as planned, but we’ll get back to all that.

Anyway, I got to work as soon as I arrived on Kaldwyn. I showed up in a weird, mist-filled forest, and I traveled through it until I reached a cave. In said cave, I got into a fist fight with a dragon.

That was Reika, the Guardian of Dawnbringer, one of the Six Sacred Swords.

After some mutual punching, Reika and I developed a quick friendship, and she agreed to accompany me on my journey — provided, of course, that I successfully completed the rest of the challenges to obtain Dawnbringer.

Which I did. Sort of. I mean, breaking a sword out of the sacred rock it’s stuck in still counts as “earning” it, right?

…The subjectivity of that aside, I freed Dawnbringer from her rocky prison.

…And by doing so, I woke her up.

Dawn was a talking sword. Or, telepathic, at least. The moment I picked her up, I started hearing her thoughts. She panicked a little bit at first, but quickly decided that she preferred being out of said sacred rock, so she agreed to let me hold onto her until I proved myself worthy.

Dawn was supposed to be obtained through a more specific method involving three amulets. She still was feeling a little like I hadn’t “earned” her properly, so I decided to go and pick up the amulets.

On the way there, we were ambushed. A group of dragon hunters called the Tails of Orochi were after Dawnbringer, and they presumably wanted to kill and eat Reika, too. We fought them off, but some of them got away.

We headed to an ancient temple to get one of the amulets. I faced a series of tests. One of them involved the temple making copies of people from my past. Not illusions — copies, with real cognition and intelligence. The Spirit Gateway Crystal in charge of the temple offered me a boon upon completing the challenges. Rather than go for the amulet, I asked for it to spare the copies of my friends it had created, rather than simply destroying them after the test was finished. The crystal agreed, and now there are a couple weird spirit copies of my friends Lydia and Dyson living in that area.

Anyway, I didn’t get the amulet, but it turns out it wasn’t there anyway. Someone else had beaten me there.

Dawn was happy I’d chosen to spare the spirit copies, since she saw them as being similar to herself. As her reward for the temple, Reika asked for clues about how to get Dawn a humanoid body. We were directed to meet Anabelle Farren, the head of Farren Labs, who was apparently headed toward the nation of Edria for a tournament.

I also got a shadeweave tunic — a tunic that heals my injuries — which my friend Wrynn had left behind at the temple. Apparently, she’d gotten there and completed the challenges first. She left a note for me with the tunic, but it didn’t give me a clear indication of where to meet her.

We headed toward Edria, both to meet Farren and because one of the prizes was Diamantine, one of the other Six Sacred Swords. I hoped to collect all six before meeting up with my friends if possible, since they’d be a useful resource for our quest. And, perhaps more importantly, the swords were intelligent — and Dawnbringer, at least, had been mistreated. I was worried about the rest of them being handled similarly badly by other wielders.

On the way out of the temple, we were attacked by the Tails of Orochi again — including one of the leaders, Zenkichi. We fought a terrible battle, but survived thanks to the help of a nightmare spirit I’d befriended in Reika’s forest at the beginning of the journey. The spirit was wounded, however, and we lost track of him for a time. Reika eventually went and found him. He formed a kind of magical bond with her before heading back to his home forest.

We eventually reached Edria, and headed to Kassel, the city where the tournament was being held.

Before the tournament, we were offered a sponsorship by Grandmother Iron, an old tournament fighter who ran a martial arts school called the Study of Iron. We accepted her offer and met some of her students — Meilin, Fai, and Ari — and one of her co-instructors, Walter.

Grandmother Iron had once made it all the way to the final round of the tournament, but she’d been targeted by imperial assassins and forced to flee the country. She’d lost two limbs and several friends in the process. She’d eventually ended up in my own homeland, Mythralis, and stayed there for some time before returning to Kaldwyn with a new identity and an urge for vengeance. Since then, she’d trained many spectacular fighters, with the hopes that one day someone could avenge her lost friends. As the Wielder of Dawnbringer, she believed that I had a shot at victory.

Meilin and Reika bonded quickly, and I found Walter to be a great sparring partner. Ari was wonderful, too. He was just a teenager, but he was unceasingly confident about his ability to fight against some of the strongest people on the continent. He was effortlessly friendly and cheerful, with a way of brightening the mood of everyone he was around.

We fought our way through the tournament preliminaries and the first three rounds. During that time, we encountered several noteworthy opponents.

First, I ran into the Phantom Thief Ravenshade on the streets after one of her thefts. After a brief skirmish, I realized that she was the wielder of Twilight’s Edge, one of the other Six Sacred Swords. We had a chat, and she fled before the city guard could catch up to her.

During one of the tournament matches, I fought against Ishyeal Dawnsglow, the wielder of Soulbrand — the Sacred Sword of Fire. He mentioned a strange name — Akadi — which I later recognized upon watching some memory crystals of other opponents.

Akadi was a servant of the Sun Eater, a world-destroying monstrosity that was sealed away at some point in ancient history. Akadi and his minions had infiltrated the tournament, although I still didn’t know their whole agenda.

One of those minions had taken over Wu Xiaofan, Meilin’s sister. Xiaofan attacked me, and Ishyeal intervened, killing Xiaofan. I successfully stopped the portal that Xiaofan was using to summon Akadi to her location, but that ruined Ishyeal’s plan — he’d been hoping to force Xiaofan to summon Akadi so that he could deal with Akadi directly. I hadn’t known that, though, and honestly, I still think it was kind of a terrible plan.

Shortly after we fought Xiaofan, Crown Princess Song — the current wielder of Diamantine, and the person set to be the final opponent in the tournament — arrived with a group of royal guards. I was briefly interrogated by Hannah, one of the royal guards that was also participating in the tournament, and I shared what I knew with her.

Akadi was still loose; he’d been “killed” by the royal guard, but his true form was a shade which could jump from body-to-body, growing stronger each time. I agreed to help deal with him if he could be found.

After that, I had something more personal to deal with — a one on one arena fight against Taer’vys Ironthorn, a swordsman who I’d known since my childhood. He was with the Thornguard, the organization I’d almost joined — and who served Vaelien, the man you’d know better as the Tyrant in Gold.

Dawn was damaged in the arena fight. After a serious scare, Reika managed to repair the damage by forming a bond between the two of them.

After that, I went to confront Taer’vys without Dawn, to see what his true agenda was.

It turned out he wasn’t there to hunt me — or so he claimed, at least. Instead, he was working on more personal matters, and had simply recognized me.

We had a talk, exchanging information — and he left me with a final, heavy piece of information.

I told him that I’d been planning to go back to help the city of Velthryn when I was done on Kaldwyn. And he told me something I couldn’t quite comprehend.

“The city of Velthryn fell more than four hundred years ago.”

And that brings us back to right where I left off.

PROLOGUE – TALES OF DESTINY

The morning’s light reached slowly across the sky, but Keras was alone.

I’m not sure I want to tell a story today.

The swordsman stared out the train window into the distance. They were racing across the Unclaimed Lands now, not far from where he’d first arrived on Kaldwyn all those years before. If he’d arrived in a different place, in a different time…

Things would have gone so much differently, wouldn’t they?

Life was full of the tiniest things that could set spirals of events into motion. He’d stumbled into so many things when he’d first met Reika and Dawn, met so many people, started on so many adventures…

…And left so many things unfinished.

His eyes pressed shut.

Visiting Caelford had not gone as he’d hoped.

That wasn’t unexpected. It seemed like just…the shape of things, recently. Complications had arisen almost constantly. It was difficult, at times, to see those shining spots of brightness among the bad. Maybe they used to stand out more easily.

Maybe he’d just forgotten how to look for them.

I’m supposed to tell them my story, but…how can I be honest?

How can I tell them how I felt, when I can barely remember?

He shook his head, thinking back to the Keras of old. The swordsman who’d first broken Dawn out of that crystal, with infinite confidence and an easy laugh.

What happened to me?

It was a question he’d asked himself many times over the years. A question that others had asked him, too. The people who saw him again after years of separation.

Wrynn might recognize his face when they saw each other again, but would she recognize the person that wore it?

And if she did…was that better or worse? What would that say about who he’d always been?

A knock on the door of his private sleeping car startled him out of his reverie. He turned to frown at the door, but didn’t rise. “Yes?”

“S’ Mara,” came the familiar voice on the other side of the door.

His apprentice. Another thing he didn’t deserve.

What was he doing, training someone? How did he have the arrogance to do such a thing, after all of his mistakes?

When he didn’t answer after a heartbeat, the door simply slid open. Mara stood in the doorway, folding her arms. “Yer broodin’ again.”

“I’m not…” He hesitated, then scowled. “I’m only brooding a little.”

“Well, it don’t suit ya, and there’s a story to be told. You were just leavin’ off at an important part, and we’ve all been waitin’ to hear what you’ve got next.”

“I’m not sure I’m ready.”

“What, because yer feelin’ awful? Not to be disrespectful, but ain’t that the right mood to be tellin’ what you’re supposed to tell?”

“I feel like telling a sad story when you’re sad is a good way to make your mood worse.”

She shrugged. “Can’t say. Don’t really have a lot of ‘em myself yet.”

He exhaled hard. “I hope you never do.”

“You’ve gone a long way toward making sure of that. Sure, I can’t say things are always gonna be bright and flowery for me, but I can defend myself a lot better now.”

Keras frowned. “Not sure I can take much credit for that. You’ve always had talent, and—”

He caught himself before mentioning that she had other teachers, remembering what had happened. In the past, he might not have managed to stop himself, but he’d gained at least a hint of insight on what not to say over the years. Instead, he quickly amended, “—I haven’t been training you all that long.”

“Oh, psh. It’s been months, and you’ve given me more attention than I deserved. Now, if you’re not gonna tell us the story, I’m gonna cry a little,” she made an adorable little teary-eyed gesture, “but I cannae make ye. As your apprentice, though, ‘tis my solemn duty to inform you when you’re due for a thrashing, and today is such a day. You missed my name day party—”

He folded his arms. “I gave you a significant present weeks ago.”

“—and as a broken-hearted lass, I invoke my sacred right to take you up to the roof for a punchin’.”

“I’m…reasonably confident that’s not a thing.”

She shrugged. “I don’t know, is it? Seems like you’re awfully good at pretending you don’t know Kaldwyn’s customs when it’s convenient for you.”

Keras stood up, wagging a finger. “Hey, now. That’s…unfair.”

“Uh-huh, Mister ‘Oh, I’m brand new to Kaldwyn, I don’t know how to shake hands, I’ve only been here for close to a decade’.”

Keras took a step closer, glowering at her. “I haven’t been here continuously for that period of time! I left the continent for a while, and not long after I arrived.”

“Oh?” Mara tilted her head to the side. “How’d that come to be?”

“When I heard about what happened to Velthryn, I had to look into it immediately. I had so many questions about…” He froze. “…You’re trying to trick me into telling the story.”

“Tryin’? Seemed like it was workin’ pretty good to me. Come on, let’s go hit each other on the roof for a while, cheer you up, and then you can pick up the story.”

“I thought you wanted me to be sad to tell the sad story.”

Mara waved a hand dismissively. “Aw, naw. I was just trying a bunch of different stuff to see what worked. And ‘sides, much as I want the story, I kinda need the workout more. Corin’s great and all, but we’re both dryin’ out without your lessons. Think we both need a reminder ‘bout what real strength looks like.”

“I’m not sure I can show you that.”

“Don’t get all humble, now. Doesn’t suit you. Now, come on, you going to punch a girl who asked you nicely or not?”

He quirked a brow, then caught himself doing it.

…An old habit, that.

Maybe I haven’t changed completely after all.

Keras stretched his arms and cracked his neck. “Get your training gear on. I’ll be up in a minute.”

In that instant, her answering grin was as bright as a long-lost sun.

***

An hour or two later, they finished fixing the damage to the poor train’s rooftop and descended the side of the train car.

Keras chuckled as he shaped the door back open, waving a hand for Mara to hop inside. “I’m pretty sure we’re going to get banned from the train service for life if we keep doing this.”

Mara nodded, slung herself in the door and landed with an unnecessary cartwheel, then stretched in place. “If they didn’t want people fighting on the roof, they shouldn’t have made it flat.”

“…I’m not sure that’s a reasonable thing for engineers to have to worry about.” He pulled himself inside, then shaped the metal closed. “But I like it anyway.”

Mara laughed. “So, good workout. You feeling better?”

“I don’t know, honestly.” He shook his head.

“Eh, s’fair. Guess we’ll need to work on it a bit more tomorrow to be sure.”

“I’m not sure if that’s a good idea. I might need some time alone.”

“Maybe. And if you insist, I’m gonna give you that space. But right now, I don’t think that’s what you really want. Think somethin’ has been itchin’ at you fierce, and you can’t quite scratch it enough. Not by yourself. Sometimes you need someone else to get your back for you when you can’t reach it, yeah?”

Keras winced. That was…a lot like a message someone else had given him, long ago. “…There might be some truth to that.”

“Know there is.” She nodded firmly. “Now, speakin’ of truth, I think you’ve got a bit more of it to spread to young ears. Been bleedin’ to know about the rest of what happened with that tourney, even if you don’t wanna talk about the sad stuff.”

He hesitated. “Wouldn’t be right to tell you about just the fights, without the context.”

“Well, then, if you insist on telling us everything, I won’t stop you. Let me round up the others and you can get started.”

His finger went up. “Wait, that’s not—”

She was gone in a blur. He could have followed her easily, of course, but somehow that felt even more taxing than the alternative.

…And he had to admit, she’d outmaneuvered him.

Keras Selyrian didn’t lose often, but when he did, he tried to have the grace to admit it.

“…Fine.” He shook his head, taking slow strides to the rented room where Patrick and Corin stayed and they told their longer tales. When he arrived at the door, it slid open.

Corin probably had some kind of alarm enchantments etched into the floor that noticed his presence.

…That kid is going to be a real terror someday.

He felt the slightest hint of a smile at the notion, then he stepped inside.

The other students were already gathered there, sitting on their own beds or borrowed ones. He took a seat next to Mara. She gave him an affectionate nudge. “Go on, then.”

Keras took a deep breath, closing his eyes. Remembering.

“Let’s start again.”

CHAPTER I – VANISHING OMEN

There are, on occasion, moments that can change the trajectory of a life. The birth of a child. The death of a loved one. The choice to extend a hand in trust to an enemy.

As I sat with Taer’vys Ironthorn, a man who could have been either an ally or the deadliest of enemies, I had a moment I could not have expected.

I sometimes wonder what life might have been like if I hadn’t heard those words.

“The city of Velthryn fell more than four hundred years ago.”

Taer’vys fell silent after that statement, perhaps having some idea of the impact. He wasn’t from Velthryn. Neither was I, really. I’d been born nearer to Selyr. But for the better part of two years, I’d called Velthryn my home, and it had been the first place on the planet where I had ever felt truly welcome.

Velthryn was an eclectic mix of peoples. Rethri, humans, and even the occasional delaren lived there in relative harmony. It would be disingenuous to claim that this was without difficulties — one of my largest battles had ties to a cult that resented human attempts at immortality, for example.

Maybe it was just as imperfect as everywhere else. In truth, I think I held Velthryn up as an ideal largely because the city made me feel comfortable. That’s egocentric, and I knew it even then.

But even if the city wasn’t the perfect bastion of harmony that I dreamed it to be, it didn’t deserve to burn.

I didn’t know how to respond to Taer’vys at first. My first instinct was incredulity, though, and my stammered words reflected that. “…What? No. What do you mean? That doesn’t make any sense.”

Scenarios were running through my head even as I stuttered the answer.

What if I hadn’t just been teleported when I’d been moved to Kaldwyn? What if I’d been stuck in stasis for hundreds of years, too, or simply moved forward in time?

I knew stasis was possible — I’d seen Wrynn Jaden use a stasis chamber. Long story, and I’ll get into that another time. Could something similar have happened to me when I was sent across the sea, either deliberately or accidentally?

Valia was awfully similar to Velthryn. I’d already met a member of House Hartigan, and while it was very possible that an immortal like Blake Hartigan had simply crossed the sea at some point and started another family, it was also possible that he’d come here after Velthryn’s fall…if something like that had occurred.

But that didn’t make sense. Wrynn’s note hadn’t said anything about a shift in time…wouldn’t she have known?

…Or was I the only one with the problem? Had Wrynn been sent to the continent and arrived four hundred years ahead of me? What about my other friends?

That was a horrifying thought.

Taer’vys grimaced. He turned back toward his bottle, pouring another drink. He gestured, and I slid my own cup over for a refill. He was silent for a moment as he poured.

My mind was swimming, and not just because of the contents of the drinks he’d been giving me.

Finally, Taer’vys glanced around the room one more time, then leaned in closer. “Look. I can’t say much, kid. Just better that you forget about that place. It’s not what you think.”

“What is it, then? If it’s been four hundred years, how are you even alive?” Taer’vys was, as far as I know, just an ordinary human. There were ways for humans to extend their lifespans, but they were rare. Maybe he’d found that immortality, but something simpler seemed more likely. “Were we both placed in stasis? Moved forward in time?”

He shook his head. “That’s…not exactly it. It’s more like…the place we came from was…wrong. We were born into a shadow.”

The word “shadow” had great significance, given who it came from. Shadows were sacred to followers of the King of Thorns. In Vaelien’s faith, nothing was more loyal than a shadow — no matter what you did, it always followed you. He couldn’t have missed the significance of using that word, but in this context, it wasn’t very helpful.

I gave him a hard look. “So, you’re just going to say something vague like that and leave it open to my interpretation, like some kind of irritating old sage?”

I may have had a specific irritating old sage in mind.

He grunted in acknowledgement. “I probably shouldn’t have said anything at all. Just…don’t make any plans to go back there. It’s not safe.”

I raised an eyebrow at him. “Since when have either of us cared about ‘safe’?”

“It’s…this is different.” He took a glance at the other occupied table, the one where the barmaid was playing Crowns with a white-haired man. They didn’t seem to be paying any attention to us, but looks could be deceiving. And, in the case of a place like this, they probably were.

The white-haired man looked…familiar, somehow, but I couldn’t quite place him. Things might have gone very, very differently from that moment forward if I had.

I didn’t recognize the features of the barmaid, either, but I had suspicions. I’d sensed a sacred sword in the area, and although I couldn’t pinpoint it, I suspected she was the one carrying it — or that she had it nearby, at least.

The Phantom Thief Ravenshade had worn a mask when I’d seen her last, and I suspected it had similar properties to mine. I couldn’t quite remember what she’d looked like, even the parts of her that were uncovered. Trying to connect her physical appearance with the barmaid was tricky; I had to think back to specifics about our fight and consider things like her reach, the lengths of her stride, and other characteristics that didn’t directly relate to how she looked.

I wasn’t sure it was her. I couldn’t be. But it was the easiest explanation, even if there was a different wielder in the area, that led to questions and due caution.

Had Taer’vys made an alliance with another wielder? That seemed like the kind of thing he’d do, especially with Ravenshade. Shadows had religious significance to the Thornguard, since they were — along with fate, time, and nature — among the concepts associated with Vaelien, the deity they worshipped.

Vaelien is the one you’d call the Tyrant in Gold, by the way, if you don’t remember the name. So, that should give you a pretty good idea about how scary an alliance between Taer’vys and a wielder might be, as well as the general badness that his presence on the continent implied.

Taer’vys turned back to me, continuing. “There’s nothing that you can do to change the result. Going there would just be pointlessly throwing away your life.”

I wrinkled my nose. “More fate and prophecy nonsense? I’m really getting tired of that.”

“You and me both. But take my advice on this one. I’ve got nothing to gain from lying to you.” He took a drink, emphasizing that we were both still sipping from a cocktail of poison that forced us to speak the truth. “Better that you let this run its course.”

I was betting that he was resistant or immune to the truth poison, but I didn’t see any reason for him to mislead me on this particular subject. Maybe he had a vested interest in something happening in Velthryn and didn’t want me to interfere, but there seemed like better methods of ensuring that rather than going for an emotional plea. We weren’t exactly close, but he knew me well enough to guess that a plea to preserve my own safety wasn’t the right way to get me to avoid doing something.

I tightened my jaw. “So, the four hundred years. If it’s not stasis, or us being sent forward…it’s, what, a metaphor for when the prophecy was handed down? Or when fate went off course, or something?”

Bits and pieces were clicking together.

I’d once fought one of the children of the Tyrant in Gold — Sterling. He’d been under the impression that he was working to “save the world”, or so he claimed. He also had a connection to a cult worshipping a prophet called the Shrouded One.

The cult had been working to “ensure fate ran its proper course” or something, which led to them murdering a bunch of people that were on some sort of list. Unfortunately, I’d headed to Kaldwyn before I had a chance to sit down and get a full explanation of what my friends had learned about the Shrouded One. I’d been expecting to be able to get that information from Lydia or one of my other friends shortly after I arrived on Kaldwyn, but I hadn’t seen them yet. And honestly, I hadn’t expected it to be immediately relevant.

I needed more information, but from the way Taer’vys was looking at me, I didn’t expect to get it from him. He narrowed his eyes, looking frustrated and a little aggravated. “Don’t push this, kid. You won’t like the results.”

I took a breath. “I already don’t like the situation. If you really don’t want me to interfere, you have to give me something else.”

“Two years.” He glanced at the other table, then back to me. “Wait at least two years before going back to Velthryn. It should be resolved by then, one way or another.”

A smile crossed the face of the white-haired man. He never turned toward us, but somehow, I felt it was aimed our way.

I looked back at Taer’vys.

Two years.

By warning me to wait that long, he’d also given me something critically important — if I wanted to change whatever was going to happen to Velthryn, I had to be home before then.

Thus, for the first time, my quest in Kaldwyn had a time limit. “Two years exactly, or should I wait a few extra months?”

Taer’vys was savvy enough to know what I was really asking. “I only know the year. You might want to wait three years, just to be safe.”

That also meant the opposite was true; if I wanted to get there before whatever event happened, that meant I’d have to be there before the first day of that year. So, really, I had a little less than two years to prepare.

“Thank you.” I nodded to him. “I appreciate the warning.”

“I don’t think you really do.” He shook his head. “But I can’t stop you from making poor choices. Well, I could, but I won’t.” He grinned. “Not that one, at least. Don’t go spreading what I told you, though. It’s best to avoid talking about our homeland here in general. And if you start talking to people about my allegiances, we’re going to have words.”

“Understood.” Given that he worked for an organization that worshipped the deity considered to be the greatest enemy of everyone on Kaldwyn, I could see why he wouldn’t want that getting out. “I have no intention of telling anyone who you are.”

That was true. The only people I felt the need to inform were Dawn and Reika, and I didn’t have to tell them anything. Dawn could already hear the whole conversation through our shared senses, and she was probably relating it to Reika in real time.

“Good. I’ve given you some heavy things to think about, so I’m going to wrap up this discussion here. Contact me again later if you want to discuss a more significant form of alliance. I’d be happy to continue fighting you for Diamantine, but if it’s more important to you, we could arrange for an exchange of some kind.”

I nodded. “I’ll think about it.”

“Excellent. Now, just one last thing.” He reached into a pouch at his side, removing a small, blue-green crystal. It had a single rune carved into it. No, I don’t remember what it looked like. He slid it over to me.

“What’s this? A monitoring device?”

Taer’vys snorted. “No, but I appreciate your suspicion. It’s a message stone. Single use. Break it and speak. The message will get to me. It’ll be necessary to contact me if I relocate, which it’s very likely that I will. Might also be necessary if you need my help in the middle of a match.”

I accepted the stone, in spite of disliking the implication that I might need his help. I wasn’t going to turn down a potentially useful tool. And, if I wasn’t mistaken, it might be the type of tool I could use to trace Taer’vys’ location if I got a Diviner to help me.

There was no doubt he could do the same with me, but honestly, I wasn’t overly concerned about Taer’vys knowing my whereabouts or scrying on me. I had the mask for any time I really needed to conceal myself, and Taer’vys already knew the vast majority of my relevant secrets.

I passed the stone into my pouch, then stood up. “Good seeing you again, Taer’vys.”

He gave me an appraising look. “You know what? It was good seeing you, too. I’m glad I didn’t have to kill you.”

I grinned. “I’m glad you didn’t have to try.”

***

After leaving the tavern, I met with my backup.

Reika was there, of course, standing just down the street with Dawn on her hip. I’m sure even Taer’vys expected her to be nearby, but he probably hadn’t expected me to bring more help.

Walter, Fai, and Meilin were all standing with her. I’d taken a risk by asking them to come along, but if Taer’vys had meant me harm, I wasn’t sure that bringing Reika alone would have been enough.

<Took you long enough. You had me worried.>

Sorry, Dawn. Let’s get out of here.

Reika grabbed me in a hug as soon as I walked over. She was uncharacteristically silent.

I took a deep breath and pulled her in tight.

It would have been nice to just stand there and hold her for a good, long time. In those moments, I wanted nothing more than to hold her quietly, pushing the dark thoughts from my mind.

But we had an audience, and I didn’t want to be rude. After a moment, I gave her a squeeze, then pulled away to look at the rest of the group.

“How’d it go?” Walter asked. I’d told him that I was meeting my opponent from the tournament match, and that there was a chance of a fight. I’d also told him that Taer’vys was someone I knew personally, and a bit about his fighting capabilities. I hadn’t told him much beyond that, but he’d still agreed to help. So had Meilin and Fai, and I appreciated that.

“I’m mildly poisoned, but aside from that, it went fine.”

Walter gave me a hard look. “Poisoned? You shouldn’t be so casual about something like that.” He turned toward Fai, exchanging a few words rapidly in the Edrian tongue, Cas.

Fai rolled his eyes, then walked over and put a hand on my arm. A warm glow washed over me, then he said a few more things in Edrian to Walter.

“He says you’ve currently got three poisons in your system, but they’re fairly weak. He can treat you, but he should do it back at the Study of Iron. You’re going to have side effects. You’re going to be purging fluids for a while.”

I grunted. That was never fun. “Understood. Let’s go back.”

***

I didn’t bother using the antidotes that Taer’vys had given me — I relied on Fai’s more general magical treatment.

There were risks with that. In theory, using a proper antidote was safer than simply bombarding the body with water mana or whatever type Fai was using. Still, I didn’t trust Taer’vys.

I handed off the supposed antidotes to Lia Shay to get them identified. It’d be worth knowing if they were actually antidotes at all, and if so, what poisons they corresponded to. If I ended up fighting Taer’vys again, I’d benefit from being prepared for those specific poisons, even if he had a broader variety available.

The rest of the day was an absolute mess. In spite of Fai’s treatment, I was sick. Really, really sick.

The less said about that, the better.

I was still feeling awful the next day, but I had too much burning in my mind to remain idle.

“Do you want to talk about what Taer’vys told you yesterday?” Reika asked me as I pried myself out from under the covers.

I took a breath. “No. You’re sweet to ask, though.” I patted her on the hand. “I don’t want to talk. I want to do something.”

“What can I do to help?” She asked.

“I think I know the first step I need to take, and I could use your help with it.”

“Of course.” She gave me a determined look. “Whatever you need.”

I ate a bland breakfast, had some tea to help keep it down, and went to find some historical records.

Reika was more than happy to go with me. She had already found multiple libraries and bookstores in the last few weeks. Most of them focused on books in the Edrian language, of course, but she was able to point me toward a couple places that would have books I could read.

She tugged my arm before we walked into the first library. “…Are you sure you want to do this? You might not like what you find.”

“I’m sure I won’t, but I’d like ignorance even less.” I took a breath. “I might need your help with sorting through some of this.”

Reika gave me a sad smile. “I’m here for you. Just let me know how I can help.”

We entered the library and began to make our way through the past.

***

It wasn’t going to be easy to decipher the cryptic things that Taer’vys had told me, but finding a starting point wasn’t difficult. The library had a number of books on the history of the nation of Valia, and Valia was connected with Velthryn, so that was an easy place to start.

I found several different sources that spoke of the same event. The summary was pretty consistent across different volumes, but I’ll paraphrase one of the books I was reading.

Our great nation of Valia was forged in the fires of war. Our people were brave warriors, powerful sorcerers, and talented merchants in the kingdoms of the old lands. That was before the burning of Velthryn, the greatest monument to human ingenuity in the old world.

The city was a vast and sprawling metropolis, filled with many wonders. Warded walls surrounded sprawling streets, and hundreds of towers pierced the skies. Our people still worshipped the old gods, then, and their faith gave them powers beyond reckoning.

Even still, it was not enough. For though Velthryn’s walls were impervious, the enemy came not from without, but from within.

Overnight, an army of monsters appeared within the city, striking first at the offices of governance at the city’s heart. By the time the mighty warriors and sorcerers of the city responded, many of the leadership were dead.

Assassins had paved the way for the attack, removing many of the leaders before the battles even began. Heroes from the mighty houses of Theas and Hartigan were slain, leaving their remnants in disarray.

As the survivors responded to the call of battle, they learned of the name of their great foe — Botheas. He was a powerful summoner of monsters, and his death magic stole the dead, forcing them to rise and fight on his behalf. Even now, we do not know from whence he came. Most believe that he was a servant of the Tyrant in Gold, paving the Tyrant’s way for the invasion of the bulk of his forces.

Our forces fought bravely for many days, while the city burned all around them. This bought time for the young, civilians, and the injured to retreat. They made their way south, to the port of Terisgard.

It is from that port that our people began our long journey across the sea, to find safety and security in a new home. Our calendar begins on the day our people first arrived on Kaldwyn’s coast, ushered there by the guidance of Selys, the goddess that led us to this refuge.

It sounded less to me like Valia was “forged in war” and more like it was “founded in retreat”, but I suppose that isn’t quite as poetic or patriotic.

Regardless, that particular passage seemed to say the same thing that Taer’vys had — that Velthryn had, at some point around four hundred years ago, been destroyed.

I tried to think back to my own history lessons, debating if it could refer to an event that had damaged the city, after which it had simply been rebuilt. There was nothing of the kind in that time range, at least that I was aware of. Attacks from the Xixian Empire had struck the city more than once, but I wasn’t aware of any event that could be construed as the city “falling”, nor any sort of mass exodus to another continent.

And from what I was reading — both in that book and others — it wasn’t just Velthryn that was affected. There were people from other cities fleeing the continent, too.

I couldn’t remember anything like that from my history lessons.

So, what was the truth?

Had my history lessons simply held glaring omissions? That was pretty likely to be a part of it, at least, but I already had a strong impression that Valia’s people had been fed propaganda about the “Tyrant in Gold”.

Could this all have been simply made up on Valia’s side, as a way of spreading fear about this supposed tyrant, and reinforcing the worship of Selys?

I might have leaned toward believing that was all that was going on if I’d simply read the stories in Valian books, without outside confirmation from my own continent.

But Jonathan Sterling had spoken of saving the world by ensuring the deaths of specific people, and Taer’vys…Taer’vys seemed almost afraid of what was about to happen.

Taer’vys was the type of guy who would sleep in a lion’s den and wake to find that the lions had been wise enough to flee in the presence of a more dangerous predator. He didn’t scare easily.

If all this was about was an impending siege, he would have brushed it off. I was confident about that.

So, what exactly was he worried about?

I had a suspicion that the answer was tied to what he’d been deliberately dodging around — fate. One of the dominions tied to Vaelien, the supposed Tyrant in Gold.

If Taer’vys knew something about what was fated to be, and it was bad enough for him to want to be on another continent entirely…

…Well, I was going to have to be very, very prepared before I made my way back home.

I studied at the library for hours, then Reika and I made our way to a bookstore to buy a couple books. I planned to continue studying over the following weeks. It felt good to have some kind of plan of action, at least.

That helped stave off my worry about the darkness that was to come.

CHAPTER II – FULL METAL BODY

The following days were difficult for me, and I’ll admit that. I split my time between training and research, trying to glean what additional bits and pieces I could to learn what might have happened hundreds of years ago — and what might be coming two years in the future.

I still didn’t fully understand what I was dealing with. Had people fled Velthryn because of some sort of prophecy, rather than an event that had actually occurred?

Taer’vys had discounted my stasis idea, but that seemed like the cleanest explanation, even if it was among the most depressing. If I’d been frozen for hundreds of years….everyone I knew would be dead, wouldn’t they? Aside from outliers like Wrynn, perhaps.

I tried not to think about the idea that my friends might have all died centuries ago, but it weighed heavily on my mind regardless.

I focused as best I could on what he’d said about an event coming in about two years. That implied that whatever disaster was coming, it could still be averted…even if Taer’vys didn’t think it was worth the effort to try. Perhaps he meant that interfering would only make things worse; that was often the case with issues of fate.

I also considered the possibility that time magic was involved in some way, but that seemed both messy and improbable. As far as I understood, time magic couldn’t be used to go back in time or reverse events that had already occurred. Time magic was primarily used for things like powerful Haste spells and slowing things down. People had been trying to crack time travel for centuries, but scholars had long concluded that it was impossible.

I couldn’t discount the possibility that what I’d heard about time magic was wrong, of course, but that was a whole area of study I’d need to research extensively if I wanted to learn more. And time magic wasn’t something anyone could just pick up and learn, either. Even in my homeland, where dominions were more broadly accessible, time magic was generally considered forbidden to even tinker with. That wouldn’t have stopped me from trying, of course, but I’d never found any books on it. They tended to be buried or burned.

I went hunting for some books on Velthryn, but the Arena Island was Edrian — most of the books being sold were in a language I couldn’t read, and most historical books were from an Edrian perspective. Most of the books in Valian were things like language primers and fiction. I found a couple general history books, but trying to find anything useful about Velthryn in them was frustrating at best.

The Fall of Velthryn was treated as a historical event that everyone knew about, but details were sparse. There seemed to be something of a cultural taboo against talking about the event, perhaps because of the sheer number of lives that had been lost, or because of the perception of failure associated with fleeing to an entirely different continent.

No one liked to feel like a coward, after all.

Books on early Valian history were more focused on the building of the first cities, the salvation provided by the goddess, and the early acquisition of attunements. I looked for references to people that I’d known, but I didn’t find many. A few Theas and Hartigan family members were mentioned, but I couldn’t find any references to Lydia or my other personal friends.

There were some very interesting bits of information in there, both in what was said and what was unsaid.

There were no delaren mentioned in the books. Not a single one.

I caught only a handful of references to rethri, and they treated the rethri as being a specific human culture, rather than an entirely different species. That was strange. I’d been raised among rethri, and they certainly didn’t consider themselves to be human.

Stranger still was the loss of “Pre-Attunement Sorcery” that occurred over the years that followed the great exodus. I spent a considerable amount of time reading on that topic, in spite of it not seeming immediately relevant to saving Velthryn, because I had to find out if it was likely to happen to me.

It was clear that the “Pre-Attunement Sorcery” the books referred to was dominion sorcery, and that people who first arrived on Kaldwyn’s shores still had access to it…for a while. I couldn’t pinpoint when the “old magic” stopped working, but from comparing a few different books, I grew increasingly confident that it was right around the time the first attunements appeared.

That was, of course, terribly suspicious.

There were plenty of stories about how the loss of Pre-Attunement Sorcery came about.

Some said that Pre-Attunement Sorcery was powered directly by the land of Mythralis, and thus, the ability to use it gradually faded as people left the continent. That didn’t align with my knowledge of dominion sorcery theory, but if there was any truth to it, that was a potential long-term problem I would have to deal with.

Others claimed that the Tyrant in Gold somehow stole the power of old sorcery from those who fled the continent, either to weaken his enemies or to somehow punish those who refused to be a part of his empire. Since I was operating under the assumption that the Tyrant in Gold was Vaelien, the King of Thorns, there seemed to be a degree of plausibility to this as well. Vaelien — and his children, the vae’kes — could steal magic. I’d never heard of him doing it on a mass scale, but Vaelien was tremendously powerful, and I couldn’t discount the possibility that he was involved in some way.

I considered a couple other options as well.

The goddess Selys created a continent-wide barrier around Kaldwyn shortly after the exodus. I didn’t see anyone mention that this could be related in the books, but in my mind, it was a very plausible cause for the loss of magical ability that people experienced. I’d been taught that dominion sorcery required a connection with the stars in the sky — and if the barrier was potent enough to block that connection, it could prevent sorcery from being used.

As a point against this, I was currently using dominion sorcery without any interference from the barrier that I was aware of. My magic was non-standard, however, even for a dominion sorcerer. I still hadn’t found anyone who had access to the annihilation powers that I’d been able to wield. It was possible that the strange dominion allowed me to bypass the barrier, or that the old sage had teleported me through the barrier to reach Kaldwyn through some unusual method that made sure my magic remained intact.

It was also possible the barrier was simply getting weaker over time. It had been hundreds of years, and at least one of Vaelien’s followers had gotten through it. Maybe the barrier had blocked magic at first, then later failed?

Finally, I considered the possibility that Selys had taken away the magic of the people of Kaldwyn deliberately.

Don’t look at me like that, it’s not that implausible. There were several potential reasons she could have done this.

If she discovered that attunements were superior to dominion sorcery, but incompatible in some way, she might have simply offered the people of Kaldwyn a “better” form of magic. A type of magic that didn’t require spending body heat to make fire, or causing the loss of eyesight when casting illusions.

I could see huge advantages to having an attunement, and surely the people of Kaldwyn could as well. It was possible the change had been purely practical.

Maybe dominion sorcery presented some sort of danger on this continent. Something related to the connections between the dominions and the stars, or something like it. Taking away the power might have been a safety measure.

Beyond that, though, being the sole source of magic gave Selys an unprecedented amount of control over Valia’s people. If attunements were their only source of power, Valia’s people would be utterly reliant on her to build their new society.

I’m not saying that was definitively one of her motives, but I couldn’t discount it as an option.

Reading about all that didn’t give me any definitive answers, but it certainly gave me a lot to think about. My conclusion was that I needed to get additional sources of power as rapidly as possible in case I did somehow lose access to my own dominion sorcery abilities, just as early Valians did.

That meant either looking into attunements, powers from the crystals in the various Elemental Temples, or perhaps additional bonds like the one I’d made with Dawnbringer. I was reasonably confident that my bond with Dawn would remain even if I lost my dominion sorcery, since Reika had records of other wielders having similar bonds in the past.

I didn’t like the idea of relying solely on bonds with equipment, though, so finding out if it’d be possible for me to get an attunement or something similar was rapidly becoming a higher priority.

I should have asked Taer’vys if he had an attunement.

<Do you think he would have given an honest answer?>

Maybe. Hard to say. It’s possible I would have had to trade something for that knowledge.

<You can contact him again later, if you really want to.>

I nodded to Dawn. I’d want to build up some resources and information on my own first, but talking to Taer’vys was an option.

Even if he had obtained one successfully, though, that didn’t mean an attunement would work on me. He was an ordinary human, as far as I knew.

I wasn’t, but I hadn’t told Dawn and Reika that yet. Not directly, at least.

I should have trusted them.

***

After everything that had happened, there was a good argument that I should have taken some time off to rest and recuperate. I still had plenty of time before the next round of the tournament, and my injuries from the fights with Taer’vys, Xiaofan, and the Pale King hadn’t completely healed. But I’d never been good at slowing down, even if there was a good reason.

Now I had a time limit burning in my mind, too. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to slow down at all until I saw Velthryn saved.

It was “Dueling Week”, an informal name for the first of the two weeks between the third and fourth rounds of the tournament.

There were a few reasons that were generally given for the extended break.

One, the Arena Island needed to move to a more distant part of Edria, and flying took time. Each day, I’d gaze out at the open sky and marvel for a time at the idea that we were floating high above the land, much like the supposed kingdom of the goddess in the skies high above.

Two, the later rounds of the tournament were complicated, and they needed significant time to set up. Much of that setup for the final rounds would be completed during this two-week time frame, since the one week between the future rounds wouldn’t be sufficient to handle all of it.

Three, the contestants needed time to recover from the first three rounds’ worth of injuries. I suspected that most of the other contestants were ignoring that idea, just like I was.

There were, after all, other opportunities to get ourselves beaten to a pulp — and that was far more exciting than downtime.

Dueling Week was famed for one-on-one combat events, much like the one I’d had against Taer’vys. There were dozens of other matches going, some of which were as high profile as mine had been. Lady Hartigan absolutely demolished a series of challengers throughout the week, and The Green Guardian had one particularly notable win against the “villainous” daughter of a duke.

I watched a couple of those matches, but I didn’t glean much new insight into my fellow competitors. They weren’t using any additional abilities that I noticed, and I’d already made plans for the ones they’d demonstrated in our previous encounters.

I considered entering in more duels myself, but as much as I enjoyed them, I had higher priorities.

***

Later in that day, I went and found Lia. Lia led me to the arena office, then translated for me. The arena worker there was friendly and excited, but sadly, I barely understood him.

He slipped a piece of paper into my hand, then walked away while Lia explained.

“That’s a bank note. You need to take it to be deposited immediately. It’s worth a lot of money.”

I nodded. We had bank notes where I came from, too. “How much, exactly?”

“We timed your match just right, and it was even bigger than I expected. Over twenty-eight thousand people were in the audience, and several hundred more bought scrying tickets. I negotiated in advance for a better-than-usual percentage for you. Normally, you’d get five percent of ticket fees, which normally average around three silver. The price was also higher than usual for this match, closer to five silver on average…and I got you ten percent.”

I did some mental math. “So…I earned something like fourteen thousand silver?”

“Fifteen thousand six-hundred and four.” Lia beamed at me.

I stared at the piece of paper in my hands.

Back at home, I could have bought a lordly estate with that kind of money. Honestly, I probably could have in Edria, too.

I couldn’t have been less interested. Settling down had never suited me. “Thanks, Lia. Come with me to the bank?”

“Of course!”

We went to the bank. Lia helped me find someone who spoke Valian. “I’d like to deposit eighty percent of this,” I explained.

“And the remaining twenty percent?” The banker asked.

“Coin, please.”

I took the twenty percent in coin, then handed it to Lia.

Lia stared blankly at me.

“That’s your commission for setting up the event.”

Lia’s eyes widened. “I…I don’t deserve…”

“Don’t be absurd. You arranged the whole thing. Even if I could have set up the whole thing myself, which I couldn’t have, you got me double the standard percentage. Take it.”

There was a bit of pushing coins back and forth before she finally said, in a small voice, “…Thank you.”

After she accepted the money, I had twelve thousand four hundred and eighty-three silver remaining in the bank, and a couple iron coins in change.

With the remaining silver in my pockets from before, I was working with about a total of twelve thousand five hundred or so silver. Enough to buy myself some powerful magical items, or maybe even something rarer, like a set of reinforcement elixirs.

I had some time to think about how I wanted to spend all that money, though. I had something else I needed to do that was a little more time sensitive.

It was time to pay a visit to someone I couldn’t trust in the slightest.

***

There was no royal palace on Arena Island. Given that the island was often host to both the Edrian royal family and guest nobility from other nations, however, there needed to be appropriate housing for their stay.

The solution was the Royal Retreat, an area of the island with high walls and such powerful protective sorcery that I could sense the mana tingling in the air as I approached.

As Reika and I approached the gatehouse, I also noted a line in the ground outside of the ringed walls. I could sense a separation in the stone that went deep into the ground. It was too thin to serve as any sort of impediment to attackers, being less than a foot in width, but too perfect to be the result of an earthquake or other structural damage.

I didn’t understand the intent of it at first, but Dawn must have sensed my curiosity.

<It lets the retreat, well, retreat.>

I blinked.

You mean…this can separate from the rest of the island?

<Yup. It’s a flying island within a flying island. Or, at least, it can be in emergencies. I’ve never heard of it actually being used.>

Given how things were going with Akadi, I had to wonder if we were going to see the first time the retreat was actually deployed.

We were stopped at the gatehouse, of course. Reika exchanged a few words in Edrian with the guards before one of them switched to Valian for my benefit.

“This area is off limits. Do you have an invitation?” she asked.

I shook my head. “No. I’m here to visit the Royal Executioner.”

The guard raised an eyebrow. “And what makes you think that you’d be permitted such a meeting?”

I shifted my stance to display Dawn on my hip. “Last time I spoke to the Crown Princess, she was very respectful of her fellow wielder. I believe she’d welcome me and permit a visit to one of her guards.”

“That’s…” The guard blinked at my sword.

<Yeah, you keep leering at me, random guard. Check out my shine, it’s divine.>

“Dawnbringer,” I finished for the guard. “I’m the wielder of Dawnbringer. And I have business with the Royal Executioner.”

The guard exchanged some rapid words with the other guards in Edrian. “We’ll send a message to ask for permission. Wait here.”

We didn’t have to wait long.

A train of guards escorted us through the gates.

Once inside, the terrain was completely different from what I expected. Tall hedges lined the path, almost like a maze, then branched off into several different directions.

As I gazed off to each side of the path, I saw some of the strangest buildings I’d ever encountered.

The first turn had towers on the left and right. One was a traditional cylindrical shape, but wrought entirely from some kind of glassy black stone, like obsidian. There was a pulsing glow from within that stone, like it was alive with a heartbeat of inner fire. I saw no obvious entrance to the tower — there were no visible windows or doors on the structure at all.

On the right, I saw what might have looked at first like a traditional castle, with bright white walls and blue banners draping from the towers on each side. Upon closer examination, however, the moat of water surrounding it also went beneath the castle. There was no solid stone below it; the entire building appeared to be suspended atop a lake.

I had no idea how they managed that; the water didn’t appear to be frozen. Somehow, that entire structure simply rested upon a body of water, as if it weighed nothing at all.

“The Valian Embassy,” one of the guards explained helpfully. “If you’re lucky, you might end up staying there at some point.”

I nodded. “Good to know.”

I didn’t think I’d enjoy staying somewhere like that, but I was curious about how it worked.

<Maybe it’s actually floating like the island, and the water below it is cosmetic?>

That could work. Or maybe there’s some kind of clear crystal above the water that we can’t see?

<Ooh! That could work too. I bet if we got a little closer…>

The guards continued down the path, and I followed them. We quickly lost sight of the palace, but Dawn and I retained our curiosity.

<…Just a quick look…>

Maybe later.

<Fine, fine.>

The path continued. After two more intersections with similarly grand structures on each side, the guards stopped at a huge, winged statue that sat in the middle of the road.

One of the guards moved to the ear of the statue, whispered something I couldn’t hear, and then put his hands on a series of markings at the statue’s base.

There was a “click”, and a brief flash of light. The guards moved to the right side of the statue and pushed.

The statue slid out of the way, apparently having rested on some kind of track. With the statue moved, it revealed a stairway leading underground. “This way.” One of the guards said, waving a hand.

We followed. The guards took torches off the walls as we proceeded into a dark, underground passage.

Reika leaned close to me. “A secret passage, Keras! They have a secret passage!”

I grinned. “I bet they have several. They’re useful for emergency escape routes, short cuts…”

<Showing off to dragons…>

We continued down the path for quite a ways before the path terminated at a series of three metal doors. One of the guards knocked on the door to the right, and there was a knock in response on the other side.

“The Royal Executioner will see you.” The guard opened the door, and I stepped in. Reika moved to step in after me.

“Just him.”

Reika folded her arms. “I’m with him. If he’s going in, I’m going.”

“It’s fine, Connor,” came a voice from within the room.

Hannah Meiyer was standing inside the chamber behind a large table covered with figures, which I interpreted as some kind of tactical map. I wasn’t sure if it was a map representing real troop locations or just an unfamiliar board game.

The guard grunted, then hesitantly gestured for Reika to step in.

Once Reika and I were inside, the guards shut the door behind us. Bright blue runes flickered on the door behind us after it closed.

Hannah walked around the table to us, reaching out with a hand. “Keras. Good to see you.”

I accepted her handshake. “Likewise. This is Reika.”

As my hand met briefly with Hannah’s, I felt it again — the power of a sacred sword. Diamantine wasn’t visibly with her, but there was something there that felt similar, just like when I’d last encountered Hannah.

Is it because she’s another wielder? There are stories about Diamantine being bonded to multiple members of the royal family. Maybe Hannah is the Crown Princess’ half-sister or something?

There were some serious political implications if one of the royal guard was also a member of the royal family. Still, that wasn’t the only explanation. Maybe Diamantine’s ability to bond multiple people had been extended to trusted members of the royal guard as some kind of security precaution. If a royal guard had a bond to Diamantine, they could potentially figure out how to use Sense Sacred Sword. With that technique, they could find the wielder or sword in emergencies. That wasn’t a bad strategy, assuming the guards themselves were trustworthy.

Or maybe there was something else going on: another sacred sword entirely, perhaps, or a fragment of one. Could Hannah have a piece of Flowbreaker?

I tried not to let my suspicions show. I’d already talked to her about sensing Diamantine when we’d first met and it hadn’t gone well. Any further discussion seemed like a poor political move.

If Hannah knew what I was thinking, she showed no sign. She simply smiled, released my grip, and moved to shake Reika’s hand as well. “A pleasure. I’ve seen you fight. Very impressive.”

“Aww, thanks!” Reika grinned. “I’ve been looking forward to fighting you toward the end of the tournament.”

Hannah laughed. “That’s a good attitude. I like it.” She pulled her hand away from Reika, then leaned up against a nearby wall. “Now, I appreciate the visit, but I can’t stay long. And I’m going to have to ask you not to do this again.”

“Is there a problem?”

Hannah opened her hands in a helpless gesture. “I’m with the royal guard, Keras. Security is my responsibility. Bringing a wielder — one of the few people here who could be a legitimate threat to the royal family — into this area is the exact opposite of secure. You can’t just go flashing your sword and asking to visit me like this.”

<But I’m so good at flashing!>

I ignored Dawn.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to cause you any trouble. I know you have responsibilities. But we need to talk about a number of things, and you haven’t responded to my letters.”

Hannah raised a hand to rub at her temples. “I know, I know. I’m just…this whole Akadi situation is a mess.” She shut herself up, then gestured to Reika. “Wait, how much does she know?”

“Basically, as much as I know,” I explained.

<And a lot more about obscure romance novels.>

I continued ignoring Dawn. “She’s also a spirit mage,” I added. “Might be able to help if we can pin down this guy’s current location.”

Hannah seemed to consider that, but Reika shook her head. “I’m happy to try, but I really think you need to find a shade specialist.”

“Not much luck on that front. I’ve been trying, believe me.” Hannah shook her head. “Took me ages just to find someone who knew what you were talking about, with all this Rendalir stuff and shades. I guess what you’re calling ‘shade magic’ is what we call ‘conjuration’. I found some people with the Conjurer attunement, but none of them had heard of conjured shades possessing people. It sounds like that’s a lost art, or something only monsters can do.”

“Meaning that they also don’t have any countermeasures,” Reika concluded.

“Right. I’ve got a bunch of people on research, but I can’t say any of it is promising.” Hannah tightened her hand into a fist. “And it gets worse. From what Soulbrand’s wielder told us, the part of Akadi we were fighting is only a part of him. His true body is that thing you saw through the portal, and it would be worlds stronger.”

I nodded. I’d already pieced that together myself. From what Lydia had told me, the shade that had taken control of a piece of Vendria was a similar situation — a fraction of a larger entity. “Have you tried to track him using the pieces of armor or fingers that I cut off when he was trying to come through the portal?”

“Yep, but he either has powerful magic blocking it or he’s simply too far away. We think he’s on another plane of existence.”

That was pretty consistent with what I’d been thinking, too. “What about finding someone or something that can be used to summon people?”

“I found a guy who says he can get fifty miles of range on summoning a human, if you have a strong enough focus to use. Do you think that’s good enough?”

I shook my head. “Extremely unlikely. We can try it, though.”

Hannah grunted. “Thought so. Seems like human summoning is just…not done, for the most part. Both technical and ethical reasons, but he didn’t get into a lot of details.”

“Okay. What about the scythe? Is it safe?”

She nodded. “Yes, it’s still in containment. We have people studying it, to see if that might have been the source of Xiaofan’s possession. No, you can’t have it. At least not right now.”

That was a little disappointing, given that I was hoping to both analyze the item and potentially draw any powers that I could from it, but I understood her reasoning. Hannah probably had better resources to investigate it than I could come up with, and if it was related to Akadi, information was more important than a potential increase to my personal power.

Besides, I had other items I was planning to focus on bonding to, and trying to bond to several items at once was probably a bad idea. It would make it harder to tell where any improvements to my abilities were coming from, and it also had the potential for causing problems in my body if the mana types were incompatible.

“Okay. Is there a plan of attack once Akadi is found?”

“We have a tentative one, but I can’t tell you.” Hannah winced. “Sorry. Not my call. I know we already involved you in this, but now that we know who we’re up against, the decisions have been taken out of my hands.”

That was unfortunate, but I wasn’t surprised. Dealing with a harbinger for a potential world-destroying entity was the type of thing I expected to be handled at the highest levels of the military or government.

I gave her a grim nod. “Please do bring me in if you find him and can convince whoever is in charge. I’d like to help.”

“…I would, too,” Reika added. “Meilin…she needs some closure on this.”

“I agree. I’d like to help her.” Hannah nodded.

“You know Meilin?” I raised an eyebrow.

“Not well, certainly. But we’re acquainted.”

Hm. I pondered that for a moment. That might be another factor indicating that Hannah is Lia’s contact in the royal guard.

I decided it wasn’t the right time to press on that topic. We had other issues to deal with. “I’d still like to meet that Summoner, even if it’s unlikely for the summoning to work. It’s worth a try. I also have a small favor to ask for.”

Hannah nodded. “Suppose I owe you one, given the mess we got you into. What is it?”

<Ooh, what’s this mystery request? Going to take her for a night on the town? Just two swordy people, looking for some romance?>

Yes, that’s exactly it, Dawn. You’ve solved the mystery.

She had not, in fact, solved the mystery.

It had taken me considerable effort to guard my thoughts to the extent that she wouldn’t. I didn’t want to spoil the surprise. “I need your help with getting a body for a currently non-corporeal entity.”

<Gasp!>

Yes, she actually said “gasp”, rather than making a sound effect.

Hannah stared at me for a moment. “You’re calling that a small favor? You tend to think big, don’t you?”

I laughed. “People with small dreams can only win small victories.”

“I like the line, even if it does feel like the sort of thing you planned to use in advance. It’s a little hyperbolic, too.”

I neither confirmed nor denied if I planned to use that line in advance. I just gave Hannah a grin and said, “That just means I’m passionate. So, can you help?”

“I’d need more information. What are you looking for, here? Trying to trap one of Akadi’s shades in a body so it can be interrogated or destroyed permanently more easily?”

I…actually hadn’t really considered that type of application, but it made sense that she’d think about that, given the previous topic. “That’s not a bad idea, but not what I meant. You’re familiar with spirits and elementals and such?”

“Of course.” Hannah nodded. “Dealing with them is usually more of a Soulblade or Summoner thing, but I’ve done plenty of climbing and exploring. I’ve met both.”

“Right. So, I have a friend that’s a spiritual entity — not sure how to classify her — that currently doesn’t have a mobile physical body. Instead, she’s bound to a magical item. You can think of her as being like a Soulblade weapon, only she’s trapped in there, without the ability to be summoned out.”

Hannah raised an eyebrow. “Like, what, one of those talking swords in a children’s book?”

<Ooh, if I had a corporeal humanoid body, I’d punch her for that.>

I ignored Dawn. “Yes, that’s essentially it. And I’d like to get her a body. Ideally humanoid, flesh and blood.”

“I…understand the request, but that’s…well, you’re asking a lot. I’ve never heard of any precedent for that sort of thing. Doesn’t mean it’s strictly impossible, but…”

I nodded. “I’ve heard Anabelle Farren might be a good person to talk to?”

Hannah visibly winced. “I was afraid you’d say that. She’s…eccentric. And irritable. And we don’t have the best of relationships with her lab right now.”

I’d been worried about this sort of response, but I had to ask. “Is that a ‘no’, then?”

“It’s a…hm. Okay. Let me make you a deal.” Hannah clasped her hands together. “You know what next week is?”

“Battle Royale Week!” Reika cracked her knuckles. “I can’t wait.”

Hannah turned to her, then nodded. “It is. I take it you’re both planning to enter?”

I hadn’t actually made a decision on that.

The Battle Royale was not an official part of the tournament — it was a sponsored event, much like my duel with Taer’vys had been.

It was used as an opportunity for fighters to showcase their abilities in a more direct way, rather than the esoteric challenges that the tournament proper held. It was also a chance for people who had been eliminated early to try to prove themselves again, and for surviving competitors to gauge their competition for later rounds.

It was also expensive to enter, with only two hundred and fifty-six slots for combatants. As survivors up to this point in the tournament, Reika, Hannah, and I were all guaranteed slots if we wanted to pay the fee — after all, people who wanted to see us would spend a lot of money to do so.

Now, normally, I’m never one to refuse a fight. But the Battle Royale was, in many respects, built for the exact opposite of my skill set. I excelled at eliminating opponents quickly, with overwhelming force.

A Battle Royale was more of an endurance contest. There were prizes for eliminating the largest number of opponents, but the biggest prizes were for the three people who lasted the longest before being eliminated.

Someone with strong defense and mobility like Reika was much better geared toward that type of challenge. Even an average attuned was, really, because every spell I cast would make me weaker and weaker.

A fighter with an attunement simply had to deal with a loss of mana; they wouldn’t have to deal with gradually deteriorating combat performance like I would.

If I entered, I had little doubt that I’d end up having to push myself hard to have any modicum of success — and that might cause me more injuries and fatigue that could hurt my performance in the following week. It could also give away more of my skills to my future opponents. I wasn’t going to admit that thought process out loud, though.

I let Reika talk.

“Of course!” She bounced excitedly. “And win. That’s also something I’m planning to do.”

It would have been easy to roll my eyes at someone saying that, but frankly, I had a hard time thinking of anyone that could match a dragon in an endurance contest.

The Green Guardian, maybe. His mana pool had seemed…implausibly high. But I didn’t even know if he was entering.

“Good.” Hannah looked at Reika, then to me. “I’d like you two to be on my team. If you help me, and I manage to place in the top three, I’ll see if I can help you with getting this spirit a body. I can’t make any promises that I can get you a meeting with Farren, but if she won’t see you, I’ll introduce you to one of our local experts instead.”

That was less than perfect, but it was a start. Approaching Farren at the winner’s banquet was still an option for us either way, but an introduction either at that event or otherwise would be helpful.

“Can we really be on a team? Isn’t it a free for all?” Reika asked.

“Ultimately, yes, but virtually everyone there will have made some alliances in advance.”

“I won’t take a fall for you.” Reika crossed her arms.

“No, of course not.” Hannah shook her head. “It would just be an alliance until we’re the last ones standing, at which point we would fight each other.”

“Oh! That sounds fine.” Reika looked to me. “Right?”

I gave a slow nod. “I’ll agree to that, with a condition. We’re not going to attack other people from our martial arts school until the end, either.”

“Acceptable.” Hannah reached out with a hand toward Reika. I was a little surprised she agreed immediately, but I didn’t mind.

Hannah shook hands with Reika, then with me. After that, she gave us a nod. “Good. Give me two or three days. I’ll arrange for you to meet the Summoner. I’ll start looking into help for your spirit friend, too, but I won’t ask anyone for favors until after the match. And remember, I need to place in the top three.”

“Understood.” I gave Hannah a nod.

I didn’t bother to ask why she needed to place that high — it didn’t matter. There would be significant rewards and prestige for all the winners, and if she needed something specific, that wasn’t really my business.

Reika and I said our goodbyes. Hannah promised that she’d be more responsive to letters in the future, and I agreed not to visit her at that location again.

We’d see her on the battlefield soon enough.

And if I wanted to impress her enough to get Dawn the help she needed, I had some work to do.

CHAPTER III – KING’S CRESTS

The next two days were slow. Almost all of my time was dedicated to following up on things I’d already put into motion, with the hopes of being as ready as possible for the Battle Royale.

With Hannah’s help, I met with a Summoner she’d contracted. I provided a piece of my shadeweave tunic, and with it, the Summoner attempted to summon Wrynn Jaden to our location.

The shadeweave tunic contained pieces of both my own shade and Wrynn’s. I felt there was a strong chance that the connection would be good enough to serve as a magical focus to find her.

Nothing happened.

The Summoner was apologetic, but that had been my expected result. Wrynn was probably way out of range. We paid him, and I took my piece of the shadeweave tunic back. All I had to do was press it against the rest of the tunic and it merged back into place.

It was kind of creepy, but I tried not to think about that too much.

My next best lead for finding Wrynn was going back to the Spirit Gateway Crystal and asking how long it had been since she visited, but I didn’t think I could do that during the tournament — there simply wasn’t enough time.

I made tentative plans to put that on my list for after the tournament. Ideally, I could bring someone friendly along with me that hadn’t already gone through the trials. If someone like Walter was willing to help, he could make his way through and ask for information on Wrynn — or just direct help with the Akadi situation — as a boon.

Hannah was an option, too, but I wasn’t sure I wanted her knowing about the Spirit Gateway Crystal if she didn’t already. Given her connection with the royal family of Edria, I suspected that if they understood what it was capable of, there was a good chance Edria would simply try to take over the whole location around the temple.

That sounded like a disaster waiting to happen, and I hoped to avoid it if I could.

I also considered that the Elemental Temples themselves might provide the tools necessary to find and fight Akadi. The Shadow Temple would almost certainly have a Shadow Crystal at the end, which could potentially have a tie to the shade dominion. If it was sapient, which I expected it to be, I could potentially ask the Shadow Crystal for help against Akadi.

Unfortunately, I didn’t know the location of the Shadow Temple. Reika had a general idea that it was in the north west of the Unclaimed Lands somewhere, but she didn’t know specifics. And she didn’t think the guardians there would be happy to see her or Dawn.

The Light Temple was another option. Reika had a better idea of where that was, but it was a long way away, and currently sealed. The guardians of each of the elemental temples only opened them twice a year, apparently, and we weren’t anywhere near the right time to enter.

It was an agenda item for the future, without a doubt, but not the best option for my immediate future.

Instead, I followed up on something more immediately accessible.

I headed to the arena reward counter. I had some questions to ask.

***

“I’m here to check on some items I dropped off,” I explained.

“May I see your identification sigil?” The attendant at the counter asked.

I handed over my identification and waited a bit for the attendant to return. He slid four pieces of paper across to me. “We’ve completed the identification process for the items as you requested. These have the requested information, as well as the prices if you’d like the items repaired.”

I looked them over immediately.

The first three were, as I expected, descriptions of each of the Pale King’s regalia. Out of sheer curiosity, I checked the last page first.

The Royal Bond is a part of the Pale King’s regalia that serves as a link between each of the objects in the set. It allows the items to share mana with one another. This both enhances certain functions of each other item in the set and allows the items to recognize each other, preventing them from interfering with each other.

While the items can be used separately without the Royal Bond, it is not advised, as they will be significantly weaker.

This item is currently damaged. It will still function, but with vastly decreased efficiency. It can be repaired for a cost of 100 Points.

I put that page down.

Oh, that makes sense. Obviously the giant chain linking the items is magic, too, otherwise it would just be…well, a fashion statement.

<Not a very good fashion statement, either.>

I don’t know, I think I could make it work. Chains aren’t a bad aesthetic, especially for a metal sorcerer.

<It’s possible we may need to teach you what an ‘aesthetic’ is. I think we need to go shopping again soon.>

You just want another scabbard.

<No, Keras. I want several more scabbards.>

I sighed, flipping to the next page. Then, I skipped that until I found the one with the sword. The sword was, of course, the most important.

The Pale Crescent is the sword once wielded by the Pale King. It has four major functions.

The first and most important function is Waxing and Waning. Once drawn, the Pale Crescent will draw ambient mana from the air. This causes the Pale Crescent to gradually grow stronger throughout battle, changing in shape. As it changes, the Pale Crescent unlocks a gradually increasing number of additional functions.

The most basic function can be used when the Pale Crescent is in any state. When the wielder swings the weapon, it creates a blade-like construct in the air called a Crescent Echo. These will remain in the air until they run out of mana, cutting anyone they come into contact with. Crescent Echoes utilize a combination of enhancement, spirit, density, and ice mana.

When the weapon has reached one third or greater power, the wielder may utilize the Low Tide and High Tide abilities.

Low Tide causes all active Crescent Echoes to sweep toward a mentally designated opponent, aiming for the lower section of that enemy’s body before sweeping back to their original position.

High Tide functions just like Low Tide, but aims high, rather than low.

At two-thirds power, the wielder may activate Ebb and Flow, which causes the Crescent Echoes to move continuously back and forth as “waves”, cutting any enemies in the way.

Low Tide, High Tide, and the Ebb and Flow ability all utilize a combination of transference, spirit, and tidal mana.

At full power, the wielder may utilize the Harvest Moon ability, which utilizes all remaining mana stored in the weapon to unleash a chaos-based attack. Due to the weapon’s use of chaos mana, this is extremely difficult to defend against and easily penetrates most magical defenses.

Each of the tidal abilities and Harvest Moon can be activated by stating the name of the ability out loud. For convenience, the weapon recognizes these phrases in Cas, Valian, and Artinian. High Tide and Low Tide can be stopped by saying, “Broken Tide”.

This weapon’s abilities are enhanced if properly combined with the other Pale King’s regalia items. Notably, Shining Alone’s properties greatly improve the efficacy of Crescent Echoes, making them nearly impossible to damage or dispel. Above All enhances the overall power of the weapon’s offensive abilities, especially Harvest Moon.

The mana absorption function of this item will also help to augment the mana recharge rate of the other items in the Pale King’s regalia, allowing them to recover mana more quickly.

Our weapon designers recognize that a weapon that starts fully charged with mana would be more practical, but this weapon was designed to be an authentic replica of the legendary weapon, including certain unusual qualities ascribed to it. We apologize for any inconvenience this may cause.

This weapon is currently in a damaged state. It will function as-is, but may leak mana.

We can fully repair this weapon for a cost of 100 points.

I paused for a moment, just taking all that in.

This is a truly impressive weapon. The amount of work that had to go into building it to match the specifications of a legend must have been incredible.

<I don’t know, it sounds pretty impractical to me. Even the note admits that. The Pale King’s throne room probably had a ton of mana in the air just to make it work.>

True, it would be less useful in areas with low mana density. But I think the Crescent Echoes will still be useful, even if I can’t use the other techniques.

<Oh, sure, they sound really useful. Assuming your goal is to box yourself in with a bunch of projectiles that could cut you just as easily as they cut your enemies.>

I blinked.

Dawn was right. There was nothing saying it made the wielder immune to the Crescent Echoes. I’d just sort of assumed I would be, since the aura of the Sae’kes had never hurt me, and the Pale King himself hadn’t been harmed by his echoes.

<Of course I’m right. I’m great at finding flaws. Especially yours.>

I think you might be getting a little ahead of yourself, though. I have a suspicion…

I picked up the next page.

Shining Alone is the Pale King’s amulet, and generally considered to be the most powerful of his regalia.

Using enhancement, spirit, and memory sorcery, this object attempts to prevent the wearer’s body from changing. While the amulet has sufficient mana, it protects the wearer from virtually anything that would cause the body to change — most notably including any form of attack.

Please note that attacks will diminish this amulet’s mana supply at a rate proportionate to the intensity of the attack, and sufficiently powerful attacks will cause the amulet to fail entirely.

Our goal is, as always, to strive for the most authentic items possible. As a result, the preservation functions of this item also limit certain forms of sensory input, such as taste and touch. You may also experience difficulty in consuming food or liquid while wearing this item.

This item will also resist changes to the user’s body regardless of if they are beneficial or detrimental. This means the item will attempt to block body-enhancement spells, such as strength and haste spells, as well as shapeshifting techniques. We apologize that there is no way to disable this function at this time, and advise you to remove the amulet before attempting any of these abilities.

This item has certain synergistic effects with the other items in the Pale King’s regalia. Notably, it provides the wearer with immunity to the Crescent Echoes created by the Pale Crescent, and significantly increases the duration of power increases provided by Above All.

When undamaged, the amulet will automatically regain mana over time.

This item is severely damaged, and can be repaired for a cost of 400 points.

I smirked, turning my thoughts back to Dawn.

There we go. The amulet will protect me.

<Oh, yeah, sure. If you never want to feel anything again, go ahead, use the amulet and the sword. Sounds like a great plan.>

I can always just take the amulet off, Dawn. No need to be so dramatic.

<First off, drama is my life. Second, have you forgotten that you permanently copy abilities from items you wear? That was sort of the reason you went to get these in the first place.>

I froze.

In spite of the ongoing problems with mana from the Sae’kes bleeding into me, I hadn’t ever been very worried about other items causing me problems.

But if this item dampened my senses while worn…and that became permanent…

That was an awful price to pay for protection. One I wasn’t sure if I was willing to accept.

You’re…right, of course. That would be a downside.

<I, uh, sorry. Didn’t mean to upset you.>

It’s…fine. Just something for me to think about. Thanks, Dawn.

She half-mumbled another apology. I didn’t really process it.

I turned to the next page to get my mind off of the problem.

Above All is the Pale King’s crown.

When worn, it expends mana each time the wearer casts a spell to increase the power of that spell. The amount of mana utilized will scale to the existing strength of the spell to prevent accidental overcharging. The amounts of mana expended vary based on the element of the spell used as an additional safety precaution.

The crown’s mana recharges automatically over time.

When worn alongside the Pale Crescent, this will further increase the Pale Crescent’s cutting power. It will also expend additional mana to supplement the power of Shining Alone, providing further protection.

As per the legends regarding this item, casting spells while wearing Above All also instills a sense of euphoria on the wearer, which may be considered addictive. We apologize for any inconvenience that this may cause.

This item is currently moderately damaged, and can be repaired for a cost of 200 points.

I put the paper down.

<These just get better and better, don’t they? That was sarcasm, by the way. Because they’re terrible.>

They’re not terrible, they’re just…maybe a little awkward.

<Addiction sounds pretty terrible.>

I suppose I can just avoid casting too many spells while wearing the crown.

<Oh, yeah, sure. You can just hold back, because you’re really good at that. Like how you never use your annihilation aura!>

You’re being a little more cutting than usual, Dawn.

<I’d like to think I’m getting sharper all the time.>

Maybe you are, given that you’re probably benefitting from our spirit bond, just like I am. But I can tell when you’re being a little overzealous. Are you worried these things are going to replace you?

<I…uh, no, I’d definitely never even considered that until you mentioned it.>

Dawn was, of course, just as bad at lying to me as I would have been to her. Shared mental connection and all that. I knew what she was nervous about before I directly asked.

You don’t have to be worried about that, Dawn. These are objects. You’re my partner, not just a sword.

<I…know that, of course. But even if I’m not just a sword, I’m still a sword. That’s my only function. If you find a better sword…well, it doesn’t really matter how cute and brilliant I am, does it? You’re going to use the better sword. Because you’re practical, and I can’t blame you for that. I’d want you to, in fact. I wouldn’t want you to get hurt, just because you were using a weaker sword…>

You’re not weak, Dawn. You’re one of the Six Sacred Swords. You’re legendary, remember? Where is this coming from?

<He…he nearly broke me, Keras. In an instant. One spell, and I was useless. Less than useless. I couldn’t help you, and I…it hurt so much.>

I’m sorry, Dawn. I’ll try harder to protect—

<That’s just the problem, Keras. You shouldn’t have to protect me. I’m your sword. If you’re worrying about my wellbeing, you’re less effective. You can’t tell me you haven’t thought about using other swords just to keep me out of harm’s way. I know you have. I’ve heard you.>

Okay. I’m sorry, Dawn. I don’t think you’re weak, but I do care about you a great deal, and that means I don’t want you to be hurt. I’m sure you don’t want me to be hurt, either.

<No, of course not. But you’re a fighter, and I accept that you will get hurt in fights. That’s obvious.>

What do you want, then?

<I don’t know. To not feel so useless? To not feel like you’re going to fall back on using the Dominion Breaker any time I could be hurt, or any time there’s an opponent that’s an actual challenge?>

I…

<Don’t. I know why you do it. I’m just…let’s stop talking for now. I need some time to think about this. Get your items. I’m happy for you, really.>

She didn’t sound happy, but I also wasn’t going to compromise my combat ability because she was having an existential crisis.

I finished paging through the papers and went back to the counter. “I’d like to get all of these repaired.”

“Of course. Let me see…that’ll be eight hundred points total to repair all four.”

I nodded. That was extremely expensive, but I had enough. With the thousand from Taer’vys, I was currently at twenty-two hundred and fifty-seven points. After spending those eight hundred, I was at fourteen hundred and fifty-seven.

That made it less likely I could buy that full elixir set I wanted any time soon, but given how powerful these items seemed, it was worth it.

“How long will it take to repair the items?” I asked.

“Just about two or three days. They should be ready before the Battle Royale.”

I nodded. “One more thing. Would it be possible to ask for these to be modified?”

The attendant frowned. “Modified? In what way?”

“The amulet currently has a sensory-dampening function. I’d like that function disabled or removed. Similarly, I’d like the euphoria effect removed from the crown.”

“Ah. I understand the request, but I’m not sure. That’s not something we typically deal with…but given the unusual nature of the items, I believe we might be able to accommodate you. I’ll have to speak to my manager, and she’ll have to talk to the Enchanter. Please check back in a couple days, and we’ll have an answer for you. It will, of course, have a cost.”

I nodded. “Of course. Thank you for the help.”

I waved goodbye to the attendant.

That was one more problem out of the way. Two, if they actually agreed to remove the sensory dampening and euphoria functions like I hoped.

It had, unfortunately, revealed a much greater problem.

Dawn had quieted in my mind, but I could tell that she was hurting. There was only one thing I knew for certain would help.

***

<Are you seriously trying to bribe me into feeling better?>

I lifted a silver-lined scabbard, measuring it against the size of Dawnbringer’s blade. It was too small, but I liked the style. I moved to the next one on the counter.

Maybe a little.

<Well…it’s working. Please continue.>

I laughed.

I spent the next hour or two shopping with Dawn. Not just for scabbards, though.

I bought her three sets of completely ordinary human clothes, too. One exploring set, one everyday set, and one set of formalwear.

The implication behind the clothing was clear: I was buying them for when, not if, she eventually had a human body to wear them.

Now, I’m sure you can see the obvious problems. Even if she ended up with a human-like body, I didn’t know exactly how tall she’d be, or her shoe size, or how heavy she’d be.

But it was a symbolic gesture. By making an investment in clothing, I was telling her I was confident we’d get her a body eventually.

I could tell she loved every minute of it, too. And, I had to admit, I enjoyed listening to her.

<Ooh, no, that’s definitely not my color. Get something brighter!>

<No, not blindingly bright. I’m supposed to be the blinding one. Get something that helps emphasize my loveliness, without trying to overshadow it. Or, um, overlighten it? Anyway, not that one, it’s hideous.>

Her mood brightened as we picked up items. I knew it wasn’t a permanent solution, but I was happy to make her happy, even in a small way.

After that, we went to work on something with more long-term impact. I went and rented a training arena, like the ones that Walter and I used, just smaller and cheaper.

<What’s this for?>

I walked into the center of the arena. I hadn’t invited Walter or Reika this time. It was just Dawn and me.

It’s a special occasion.

<Oh? What sort of occasion? Does it involve getting me more presents?>

Maybe, but only if you perform well.

<Perform…? What exactly are you expecting me to perform for you, Keras?>

Certain thoughts began running through her mind, and I decided to interrupt them immediately, before she could level any wild accusations about my lack of gentlemanly decorum.

Not like that, Dawn. Today, we’re starting your first day of training.

<Training? I already train with you and Walter all the time.>

Sort of. We do train together, but that’s been almost entirely focused on my abilities, or what you can do to help me in a fight. Today, we’re going to start focusing on training for your benefit, not for mine.

<…What’s the point of that? I’m a sword. I’m not exactly going to get bigger muscles, even if that is a hilarious image.>

I began walking around the room in a circle.

Concentrate on my legs.

<…Okay, concentrating. I can feel them. They’re very leg-like. Good muscles in there, I’m sure.>

Let’s say you get a human body, Dawn. I don’t know when that’s happening, but I intend to make it happen.

Would you know how to walk?

Dawn fell absolutely silent for several seconds.

<I…hadn’t really considered…>

I could tell that thought was upsetting her, so I started talking to her again immediately.

Don’t worry. This isn’t a problem. You might be able to do it intuitively, but just in case, we’re going to do a little bit of exercise together.

First, I’m going to let you feel what it feels like when I’m walking. I’m also going to do some other basic things, like just sitting and standing.

You’re going to concentrate on that, and you’re going to try to get a feeling for what my motions feel like. Then, you’re going to try to mimic them.

<Mimic them how? I don’t have a body yet.>

Sure you do.

I pointed a thumb at my chest.

You have mine.

<What.>

We have a pretty strong telepathic connection at this point, Dawn. You’re going to try to practice moving using my body.

<I…what? You mean, like, possess you?>

Not quite. When I was fighting the Pale King, I could feel through your mana sense, and I was able to intuitively move where I needed to — especially when Body of Dawn was active. And when I fought Xiaofan, you were able to send me images of exactly what she was seeing, so I’d be able to react and avoid her.

I think if you sent me an idea of what you want me to do, I could move almost as if it was my own intent.

<That’s…you’d really let me use your body like that?>

Of course, Dawn. I’m not just your wielder. I trust you with my life every time we fight. Why wouldn’t I trust you with it for something like this?

<Keras…I…>

I felt a surge of emotion from Dawn, of a kind and intensity I’d never felt before. We were both silent for a time after that.

And then we talked. Just talked, for a long time.

We talked about a lot of things we should have long before. Fears. Memories. Plans for the future.

I won’t say every word we exchanged that day. Some things are just too personal, even for a story like this one.

But when we finished talking, the training began, just as planned.

And as night fell, Dawn and I danced together for the first time.

***

The next few days passed easily, in a haze.

Dawn and I continued to train. At first, we trained mostly with Walter and Reika. As the week progressed, Walter bowed out to focus on training with the students from the Study of Iron. Then, after that, Reika started going out with Shun more often, often spending most of the day with him. She’d come back with new scrapes and bruises, but that didn’t seem all that strange to me at the time — I just assumed they were training together. She seemed more and more distracted with whatever they were doing, leaving me to spend time training with Dawn alone.

I felt a little lonely in Reika’s absence, but there were advantages to training just with Dawn. It let us focus on our connection more, and I felt that bond getting stronger with each session of practice.

This bonding experience was a comfort to us both, but it also had the practical application of continuing to improve our ability to feed mana into one another.

And with that improvement, we began to test new things.

It was only two days before the Battle Royale that we succeeded at something vital—

<Pull!>

At Dawn’s command, a knife flew across the otherwise empty arena and stuck to her blade.

We both cheered loudly and shamelessly.

She had successfully cast a metal shaping spell by herself, without drawing any of my own mana for that purpose.

And with that, she demonstrated something incredible: Dawn was seemingly generating new types of mana, based on our bond.

Magical items, as I’m sure you know, generally don’t do that. You can shove a bunch of mana into a rock, and it won’t grow more mana of that type on its own. If you want a rock to generate mana, you need to give it runes for mana regeneration, capacity, and all that stuff that Corin is better at explaining.

Similarly, humans from Kaldwyn can’t generate new types of mana without an attunement, or something else, like a mark from a crystal, to provide that type of mana for them.

Humans from Mythralis, however, can slowly learn to use magic purely through exposure to enough of a specific type of it—

And that’s exactly what we’d accomplished. Much like someone from my homeland, she’d been practicing a type of magic through the use of something other than herself, and she’d learned a new type of magic from it.

It was, in effect, like she’d been wielding me as a training tool to spark her growth. And once I’d made that spark, seemingly she’d been able to fan it into a flame on her own.

We didn’t know what the limits of that would be, of course. Maybe she could naturally acclimate to some types of mana, but not to others.

Or maybe she already had some trace amounts of metal magical capability hidden within her, and I’d simply awakened that through our training.

<Stronger…I can get stronger, Keras!>

You can. Your powers aren’t set in stone.

<That…was an absolutely awful pun, Keras, but I’m too happy to hold it against you. I forgive you, Keras. Just this once. Praise be to my benevolence, and my ever-growing powers.>

I grinned at her. More than anything else I’d been able to do to help her, this was what Dawn had truly needed.

Through using a new type of magic, she’d seen something important. She wasn’t just an ordinary sword. She was Dawnbringer, the Sacred Sword of Light.

And if she ever felt that her powers weren’t strong enough, she didn’t have to accept that weakness. She could train and grow stronger over time, just like a human could.

And I’d be there to help her…for as long as I could be.

There were clearly more things for us to try to test and explore.

But for the moment?

We were ready to celebrate.

And celebrations called for cake.

***

<This…is…incredible…>

I shoveled more cake into my mouth. Dawn was spending all of her attention on trying to taste the cake.

We’d shared most of our senses for some time, but naturally, some senses were shared more easily than others. Dawn had passively been able to get a little bit of the sensation of what eating was like each time I’d eaten, but focusing on it directly was apparently a more overwhelming experience.

<Don’t stop. Eat forever, Keras. This is your new responsibility. Embrace your new life of cake.>

The cake eating continued for some time, until I decided I’d had enough. Then it continued a little longer, at Dawn’s insistence, until I decided to share with her exactly what a stomach ache felt like.

<…Cake…why hast thou committed this betrayal most foul…>

Such was an experience that every human needed to have in their lifetime. It was probably best that I taught her that lesson before she had a body of her own.

***

Two days before the Battle Royale, the Pale King’s regalia was finished being repaired.

I got my answer on the requested modifications to the amulet and crown. It would cost me another two hundred and fifty points, but they could make the changes. I spent those points in a heartbeat, and offered another fifty to rush the job.

After some consideration, I also bought five more healing potions. This time, I spent two extra points on each of them just to buy more resilient potion bottles. I didn’t want to end up with a bag full of broken glass like what had happened last time. That meant a total spending of twenty-five points on the five potions with resilient crystalline bottles.

The next day, I was three hundred and twenty-five points poorer, but I had four new magical items. I only had one day to train with them, but that was enough to figure out the basics.

When the time came to fight in the Battle Royale, I stepped into the arena with the power of a legendary king.

CHAPTER IV – BLADE DANCE

The Battle Royale was one of the few events outside of the tournament itself that was held in the main arena.

There’ll be a lot of opponents I haven’t fought before in this battle. This will be an excellent test for the Pale King’s regalia.

<Just don’t forget you have a better sword, too.>

I gave Dawn a reassuring pat on the hilt as I approached the arena.

Reika and I entered together, just after bidding our goodbyes to the rest of the people at the Study of Iron. Walter was entering, too, but he had his own team with Shun.

Meilin wouldn’t be participating. She’d barely left her room since she’d lost her sister. I’d tried to visit once or twice, but she didn’t want to see me. Reika had apparently managed to get Meilin to talk to her a little bit, but things were still strained at best.

I wished there was more I could do to help, but I decided to honor Meilin’s wishes and give her some space.

Reika and I were planning to stick to our agreement and work with Hannah, but we hadn’t communicated with her since the meeting in the Royal Retreat. Fortunately, we found her standing just outside the waiting room Reika and I had been assigned to.

Hm. She knew which room we were going to. Must have access to the list.

<Or she got very lucky.>

Possible, but unlikely.

I noted that Hannah was wearing different armor from her usual royal guard fare — it was a suit of scale mail that seemed to be fashioned from the scales of some kind of creature, rather than metal. The scales were bright red, but I couldn’t tell if that was the natural color or paint.

Reika gave Hannah a hard look when she saw the armor, but didn’t say anything.

Are those…dragon scales?

<Eh, they’re more likely serpent or hydra scales. Still pretty bad either way, though.>

Before I could speculate further, Hannah saw us and waved us over. I wove through the significant crowd of people in the waiting area to approach her.

“You’re here. Good. Let’s talk strategy.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Here? Aren’t you worried about being overheard?”

Hannah shrugged. “Not really. No one I’d consider a threat is assigned to this room.”

She got some side-eye from another fighter who was heading into the waiting room for saying that, but he didn’t say anything. If anything, he walked a little faster after he saw her.

If Reika noticed the same thing, she didn’t say anything about it. She did, however, ask a question that I’d been wondering about. “Is this all of us? We can’t be the only ones you asked to help, are we?”

Hannah laughed. “No, no. I have a normal team that will be backing me up in there, too. You two are a little something extra that my enemies won’t anticipate.”

“Meaning that you have someone in specific to watch out for?” I asked.

“Right.” Hannah nodded. “I’m very confident in my fighting abilities, but I’m also in a unique position. As a representative of the royal family, I’m symbolic for representing Edria in the tournament.”

Reika drew in a breath. “…And teams from the other nations might think that beating you is making a statement.”

“Exactly that. I’ve had people come after me in the normal tournament rounds for that reason, but usually the objective-based style and the way the teams are split up has kept it manageable. With the Battle Royale, we’re going to have hundreds of people in the arena at once with nothing other than fighting to distract us. I expect some of the people who fancy themselves as patriots and national representatives to come straight after me.”

I felt a sinking feeling as I processed who she might be talking about. “Hartigan.”

“Ooh!” Reika pressed her fists together, cracking her knuckles. “I can’t wait to fight her!”

Hannah shot Reika a surprised look. “I expected you to be at least a little resistant to fighting someone who represents Valia.”

Reika waved a hand dismissively. “Pfft. Nah. I don’t buy into any of that political stuff. I’m just here to punch and get punched.”

Hannah burst into laughter. “I like your attitude.” Her expression shifted to something a little more somber. “Must be nice to be able to live like that.”

“You don’t have to work for the royal guard forever,” I pointed out.

Hannah snorted. “Right. When I’m dead or maimed, maybe they’ll let me retire.” She rolled her eyes. “But enough of that talk. We need to strategize; we only have a few minutes before we’re starting.”

Reika and I nodded. I switched to asking a more relevant question. “Aside from Hartigan, who do we need to worry about?”

“How much do you know about the involvement of Dalenos in this tournament?” Hannah asked.

“I heard they send six people every year. A couple of them sounded dangerous, but…ah, I don’t really remember much about them. I don’t think I’ve fought any of them yet.”

“Likely not.” Hannah took a breath. “You would have remembered them if you had. Every single one of them is dangerous. They’re all Citrine or Emerald level, and many have multiple attunements. Some even have crystal marks.”

“Crystal marks?” Reika asked. “They’ve been to the temples?”

Hannah nodded to Reika. “Some of them certainly have. Dalenos is in close proximity to the northern part of the Unclaimed Lands, much as we border the southern edge. While the temples nearest to Edria are in difficult to reach locations, the journey to the Water Temple is comparatively safe.”

Reika looked uneasy, but I couldn’t quite see why. Perhaps she didn’t want to fight people who had been through one of the elemental temples successfully, but that seemed strange to me. Either way, she just quietly responded with, “I see.”

“Can you give us some information on the specific people from Dalenos?”

“Yes, I’ll give you a quick summary in a bit, but you shouldn’t need to worry about them too much. They will be coming for me, but my primary team has prepared for them in specific.”

“Why are you so confident they’re coming for you? I know you’re a symbol for Edria, but wouldn’t it make more sense for them to stay on the defensive if they have a coordinated team?”

Hannah shook her head. “Complete defense is disincentivized for a couple reasons. First, there are awards for the number of people that you eliminate, in addition to survival rewards. Starting early on that makes it easier. Second, the arena itself shifts over time, making staying still difficult. Holes will open in the ground, leading to the water below. Anyone who falls in the water is eliminated — this is the primary means of knocking people out of the match.”

“And the other ways to get people out of the match?” Reika asked.

“Knocking someone out, or making them surrender.”

I frowned. “How do they summon people out of the arena when things like that happen? The Summoner you had me talk to indicated that summoning humans is extremely hard. They can’t have that many people that can do it.”

“It’s not summoning. Before the match, they’ll give you a new identification sigil. That sigil is used to teleport you out under specific conditions. It’s similar to how the matches in Valia work with those shield sigils that teleport people when they’re depleted.”

I still didn’t actually know what those matches were, but the context was enough for me to understand what was going on. Once again, I was awed by the sheer cost of enchanting that many items.

<They probably take them back when someone loses, so they collect them from year to year. It’s not like they have to make five thousand badges all at once — they just have to make more if each tournament has more than the last tournament did.>

Dawn had a good point, but it still sounded expensive. I supposed that six years was plenty of time for a handful of hired Enchanters to make hundreds or thousands of sigils, though.

If I could get a few Enchanters over to Velthryn, how much good could they do for the city’s defenses?

My homeland had enchantments and magical items, but they were scarce. Item making was a relatively rare talent, and much more limited in what it could accomplish…at least for most sorcerers. There were a handful of people who knew how to make dominion marked items, which were just as flexible as Kaldwyn’s enchantments, but they hoarded those secrets carefully.

Perhaps the problem back at home wasn’t a lack of Enchanters, but rather just a lack of communication and trust. If all of our sorcerers knew how to make dominion marks, I suspected our cities would have looked much more like Valia.

Maybe that’s what Selys planned. Magic is much more widespread here in general, and much better understood by the general populace.

I still didn’t like the idea of making people take arbitrary tests to gain access to magic, but I had to admit that there were some advantages in the results.

“Okay, back on topic.” Reika distracted me from my thoughts with a new question. “Who else do we need to watch out for?”

“There are a couple wildcards. There’s an Artinian swordsman I don’t know much about — Satoshi Muramasa. He has strange foreign magic that makes him difficult to predict. There’s also Soulbrand’s wielder. Be extremely cautious if you run into him. Our goal is to outlast our opponents, not beat them in direct combat — and if Dawnsglow feels threatened, he can just teleport out of the area. Worse, he might be able to teleport one of us out-of-bounds if we aren’t careful.”

She wasn’t kidding. I’d had two brief fights with Ishyeal Dawnsglow, and he’d walked out of both of them completely unscathed. That just made the idea of fighting him all the more appealing.

I gave Hannah a nod. “I’ll be careful.”

<You’re going to go straight for him, aren’t you?>

Me? Does that sound like something I would do?

<Going straight for the strongest target available and ignoring your actual goals? Uh, yeah, that’s you.>

…Fine, I’ll pick off a few smaller targets first.

<Promise?>

Nah. I don’t like breaking promises.

***

We spent a few more minutes discussing strategy. Hannah filled me in on the Dalenos team members, including reminding me about two in particular — Takeshi Kurita and Haruka Saito — that I’d need to watch out for.

Takeshi was a combination Champion and Swordmaster who used compounding Enhancement spells to make himself tremendously powerful in melee combat.

Haruka was far more worrisome; everyone who fought her seemed to have an overwhelming desire to throw down their weapons and surrender immediately. Presumably, this meant she had some sort of absurdly powerful mind control effect, and one that was subtle enough that it didn’t require an incantation or anything equally obvious.

Dawn, if you sense anything like that happening to me, I might need you to send me light mana or something to try to get rid of the effect.

<Or I could just yell at you. That usually works.>

I sighed. I’d plan to use the Ring of Spell Deflection if I saw Haruka, too, but I didn’t know if it would do anything to help.

With that, we went and accepted our new identification sigils, pinned them on, and got ready for the match to begin.

***

The arena for the Battle Royale was an elevated stone disc, held up by tremendous pillars. At a glance, I guessed the disc was about a thousand meters in diameter. It was also separated into clear rings — and I knew some of those rings would fall away as the match continued, descending into the water below.

The water was only about a twenty-foot drop below the arena, meaning that it probably wasn’t going to be a fatal fall, unless one of those huge stone rings happened to fall on top of me. Given that hitting the water led to elimination from the match, I suspected that wouldn’t be much of a problem — I’d probably be teleported almost as soon as I hit the water.

I frowned at that thought, briefly wondering how the identification sigil would distinguish between falling in the water below the stage and simply being hit with a water spell. Was the sigil detecting elevation somehow? Was there something special in the composition of the water?

If I was Corin, I probably would have tried to inspect the sigil to figure out how it worked. But that wasn’t my area of expertise.

Instead, I simply decided that if I happened to fall, I’d try to obliterate the water around me before it touched me and return to the arena. I considered destroying the identification sigil instead, but that would have simply gotten me disqualified.

The gigantic disc stood within the center of the island’s main arena, surrounded by tens of thousands of seats filled with eager audience members. One of the private boxes above was where I’d once stood and watched Reika’s journey through the Flame Temple, and I absently wondered who would be watching the match from up there this time.

Much like with most previous matches, I didn’t get to choose when I entered or who I entered with. I was teleported straight from the waiting room onto the stage, in a location that was supposedly random.

From my starting position, I could see dozens of others appearing around me, but I couldn’t draw my sword or attack. The signal to begin hadn’t been given.

As I watched, the stone of the arena floor rippled and shifted, with huge protrusions rising from the ground. In some areas, entire sections of the floor raised or lowered.

Cover, I realized. We’re not going to be fighting simply on a flat surface.

The small differences in terrain height and the newborn growths of stone would make it more difficult to see distant enemies, and they’d also serve to offer partial coverage against things like ranged attack magic. This would help incentivize close combat, which was ostensibly the primary focus of the tournament itself.

A moment later, I felt a pressure wash over me and a chill run down my spine. The entire arena subtly darkened.

I grit my teeth. I’d felt this effect before; it was the same effect as when we’d played the Mana Core match, an aura that diminished magical power and sapped the strength of anyone it came in contact with.

<Ugh, not again. I hate this feeling.>

Sorry, Dawn. I didn’t know they’d be doing this in here.

<It’s fine, it’s not your fault.>

Let’s plan to use a light aura like last time, but not until we need it. We can’t risk running low on mana like in the Mana Core match against Ishyeal.

<The aura is probably fine, but maybe skip using Body of Dawn. Obviously I could handle it, but your frail and vulnerable mortal body might fall apart if you keep overusing my power like that.>

I rolled my eyes.

I make no promises. I don’t know if we can handle some of these opponents without it.

<What, don’t you want a challenge?>

…How dare you properly read my personality and manipulate me like that, Dawn.

<Please. I’ve been doing that since day one. Try to keep up, hero.>

I snorted. Keep up? I suppose I’ll have to show you what speed looks like.

<I mean, that’d be a pretty decent retort if focusing on speed was, you know, actually a good idea. This match is about surviving a long time, not haste.>

Please, Dawn. Since when have I cared about what we’re supposed to be doing in any of these challenges?

Once this match starts, we’re going to find the strongest opponents in here. Then, we’re going to have a little fun.

And, with that statement made, an announcement came as if in reply.

“Let the Battle Royale begin!”

***

Chaos erupted in the next instant, as hundreds of fighters moved in unison. Hurled attacks flew in dozens of directions, while others simply charged at the nearest opponents.

Half a dozen people took flight. Only two of them remained after a barrage of attacks from the ground below. I didn’t recognize either of them, but I did recognize the attack that downed three of those early fliers — a colossal blast of golden fire that had split apart in mid-air, striking each target with perfect precision.

Hartigan.

Fortunately, I hadn’t seen Reika among those who had taken flight immediately — wisely, she must have realized that in the small area, such a technique would have made her an immediate target.

I mentally noted Hartigan’s likely position from where I’d seen her attack come from, then focused more on my immediate surroundings.

The stone ground below me was uneven, with plentiful holes for incautious fighters to fall into. From my position, I couldn’t see the edges of the arena — my sight was blocked by towering pillars and spikes that jutted from the ground.

Little problems like those wouldn’t stop me, though. I didn’t need to see to find my first target. The moment the match began, my senses reached out along with Dawn’s.

There.

I surged into motion. My body felt heavy with the weight of the suppressing aura in the air around the arena, but I was sticking to the plan. I wouldn’t use my light aura. Not yet.

That did mean, unfortunately, that other people had a chance to see me and try to stop me.

There were a total of two hundred and fifty-six people in the arena. It was huge, and there were obstacles blocking our lines of sight, but there were still over a dozen people in sight of me when I started.

And given my reputation, that meant there were a lot of eyes on me right when the match began.

For some, that meant wisely moving as far from me as possible.

But most fighters who had signed up for a Battle Royale were out to make a reputation for themselves, and who didn’t want to be known for defeating the legendary wielder of Dawnbringer?

A half-dozen people came for me before I’d even crested over the first hill.

With the pressing aura of the arena, I was slower than usual. My body felt sluggish, like I was trying to run underwater. I wasn’t in the best condition for fighting several opponents at once.

But while I was affected by the pressure, I had an advantage. Dawn’s bond burned bright within me, and my mind and body had gradually grown faster each day.

When ordinary opponents came to attack me in that arena, it was like they were moving in slow motion.

An arrow flickered through the air. I caught it effortlessly in my off-hand and hurled it like a knife toward a nearby swordsman, then side-stepped a jet of fire from a robed woman atop one of the nearby pillars.

<Behind!>

I spun, slicing a bolt of lightning in twain.

The Elementalist who had thrown it froze, eyes widening in shock. Then he turned and bolted as far from me as possible.

He had good instincts. The others should have paid more attention.

A woman with a spear charged at me, her shimmering silvery armor reminding me of Velas.

But she was no Velas Jaldin.

I battered her spear aside with ease, then stepped in, grabbed it, and wrenched it out of her hands. With a spin, I hurled it into a nearby stone, where it embedded in the rock.

While she ran to retrieve her weapon, two swordsmen took her place.

One had two wickedly curved blades, and the other was using a classic sword and shield mix. I raised Dawn to meet them.

The one with curved blades swept in first, one blade glittering with an icy aura, the other shimmering silver. Both were clearly enchanted.

A shift of my wrist sent the first blade off course, and a side-step followed by a downward cut deflected the second.

I didn’t have to tell Dawn to brace herself for what came along with the impact. By that point, my bond with her was strong enough that she simply knew my intent.

A heartbeat after Dawn met the enchanted blades, my opponent’s hilts separated from their blades. My metal shaping had grown strong enough that even enchanted blades offered little resistance.

I made sure to separate the swords cleanly, so they could be easily repaired later. Losing a magic sword was a tragedy, after all.

The second swordsman was a little luckier, pulling his sword back after seeing what had happened to the first. He slammed a foot into the ground, and I felt stone shifting beneath me.

Stop.

I quelled the earth with a thought. Then, in the next moment, I slammed my free hand into the swordsman’s shield. I punched straight through it, grabbing his arm and conjuring a flicker of flame.

His shirt ignited. He screamed, falling back in alarm.

Another arrow from my right. I didn’t bother turning toward it, I just swung Dawn and smacked it out of the air.

The spear-wielder was back. When she swung this time, a wave of air followed, pushing me backward. I stumbled for just a moment, which might have given her a false sense of her chances. When she thrust again, she found no opening, only a flurry of cuts that sliced her spear to pieces.

With a growl, she hurled the broken spear at me. I deflected it with a bare hand, but it cost me a moment. In that moment, a tornado manifested beneath the spear woman’s feet and carried her into the air. A moment later, she’d moved to elsewhere in the arena.

I ignored her. I had other foes to handle.

The two-bladed fighter had recovered the broken pieces of his swords, but they were still unattached.

I slammed a kick into his chest and hurled him backward, straight into one of the holes in the ground. He plummeted, clutching his broken weapons tight.

Splash. He hit the water below the stage.

Then, a voice echoed in my mind.

[You have defeated one opponent.]

Apparently, someone was watching closely enough to report my victories as they happened. Nice.

The shield user discarded his broken shield, dispelling the flame on his outfit with a burst of water magic. He swung at me again.

His lunge met empty air.

My sword was at his neck in an instant.

His eyes widened at me in fear.

I met his gaze with a hard look, then pointed to the hole in the ground where the other swordsman had fallen.

After only a moment of hesitation, he backed away, then turned and jumped into the hole. I heard a telltale splash.

[You have eliminated two opponents.]

A moment later, I was spinning toward yet another fireball, this one much larger than the last. It was glowing blue and surrounded by three glimmering rings, like those around distant planets.

Radiant Dawn!

Dawn’s blade struck the blue sphere of flame, reflecting it right back at the robed mage who had cast it. It hit him dead-on, and he fell backward, blazing, onto the ground below.

[You have eliminated three opponents.]

I blinked. That was all it took? Apparently, I must have reflected his strongest attack or something.

I felt almost guilty about it.

I caught a fired arrow with my off-hand a moment later, purely on instinct.

Nice try.

I hurled the arrow back at the archer, guided by a hint of metal shaping. The arrow flew across the arena and sliced straight through the archer’s bowstring.

By the time he had realized what had happened, I was moving.

Aura of Light.

A shimmering aura of light burst around me, momentarily pushing away the pressure of the arena.

In that moment, I’d closed the entire distance to the archer. I grabbed him, lifted him off the ground, and slammed a boot into the ground.

A new hole opened right in front of me.

I hurled the archer into it. A satisfying splash followed.

[You have defeated four opponents.]

I grinned, deactivating my Aura of Light. I’d spent a little bit of mana to close that distance quickly, and I didn’t want to continue wasting it when I didn’t need to.

<Good technique, but that name is incredibly boring. You need a new one.>

Hm. I’ll consider that.

For the moment, my immediate attackers had been handled. There were still other fighters nearby, but they were wisely giving me a wide berth.

A moment of concentration told me that my target had moved.

Irritating.

As I shifted toward the new location that I sensed, a tremendous burst of golden flame rocked the entire arena platform. The scale of the attack was a signal of something significant, and I couldn’t ignore it.

Hartigan must have found a big target. That could be Hannah.

My sense of obligation warred with my desire to continue pursuing my original target.

<Aww, just go get Hartigan. Your chase isn’t going anywhere, and if Hannah loses this early…>

Dawn was right. I’d made a promise, and I intended to fulfill it.

My heart beat more rapidly as I processed what I knew about her and rehearsed the counters I’d prepared in my mind.

I was distracted enough with my thoughts that I almost missed it. A telltale blur of motion to my right side, moving fast. Without the enhancement that Dawn leant to my senses, I might have mistaken it for the blur of heat or missed it entirely.

Even as it was, I barely slid to a stop and raised my sword in time to block the first strike of an invisible opponent.

The attack didn’t hit Dawn particularly hard, but it served to confirm what I’d expected. I heard the clash of steel, but it was muted. I barely even felt the presence of metal at the moment of impact.

Whoever had attacked me wasn’t just invisible — they were reducing everything that allowed me to sense them.

The next two attacks came in so quickly that I couldn’t parry them both. The second attack hit my left shoulder, meeting resistance as it hit my shadeweave tunic.

It barely cut through and broke my skin. Barely was, unfortunately, enough.

I felt a telltale feeling of cold spread through the wound.

<Oh, good, you’re poisoned again. You seem to be making a habit of that lately.>

Let’s call it poison resistance practice. That sounds plausible, right?

I grunted, sending a burst of light mana into the area near the wound. A portion of the chill subsided immediately, but I didn’t know if I’d countered it completely.

I’d have to neutralize this opponent fast, before they could hit me again. That was easier said than done.

To make matters worse, the world hadn’t exactly frozen while I was distracted. Another explosion of golden flame rocked the stage, and at the same time, I sensed two — no, three — sources of metal heading toward me from the distance.

I flicked my sword to the right, deflecting a pair of invisible knives hurled by a second invisible attacker. Then, I just barely managed to step back in time to avoid the third invisible attack. I couldn’t even tell what it was, just another invisible projectile that felt larger than the others.

The second invisible attacker was far enough away that I hadn’t even sensed them until they struck. They continued to keep their distance, circling while the first invisible opponent came in again, swinging invisible blades.

A flash of an image in my mind showed me the trajectory of the incoming attacks with a level of clarity that my own vision couldn’t manage.

Dawn’s mana sense. The invisibility was hindering her, too, but not to the same extent that it impacted my sight.

With a mental note of thanks, I hurled myself to the side and spun into a cut toward my opponent’s back. I flipped my sword at the last moment to strike with the flat. The result was that I’d merely struck with bone-breaking force, rather than cutting my opponent in half.

The would-be assassin fell forward from the force of the sudden blow, and I stomped the ground.

A hole opened in the assassin’s path. They managed to stop themselves from falling, but only until the moment when my boot caught them in the chest.

Their arms wheeled in the air ineffectively as they fell, and their sensory-dampening spell only barely muted the sound of a splash in the water below.

[You have defeated five opponents.]

The sound of the announcement in my mind was enough of a distraction that I might not have caught the attack from behind me without Dawn’s warning. Her mana sense projected the image of a long blade angling for my spine, and I flipped Dawn over my back without even turning.

I felt metal impact with metal, then spun around to find my still-invisible opponent stumbling backward.

“Surprise.” I lunged forward, a brief aura of light manifesting around me, and punched the invisible attacker right in the chest. They flew backward and slammed into a stony outcropping, sliding motionless to the ground after the impact.

[You have defeated six opponents.]

With that distraction handled, I briefly turned to my injury. The cold from the poison had faded almost entirely, and I couldn’t feel it spreading.

I still had the antidotes Taer’vys had given me. Fai believed they were real antidotes, but without the knowledge of what specific poison was affecting me, using one would have been a gamble. I thought I recognized the sensation of this specific poison as a common paralytic, one of the same ones Taer’vys had used, but it wasn’t worth the gamble of trying the wrong antidote.

I pulled my light aura back in, sending the remaining energy into my wound, and continued moving toward Hartigan’s explosions.

Finding her didn’t take me long.

Lady Antonia Hartigan floated alone over a tremendous crater, her entire body surrounded by an immolating aura. As I watched, she raised a glowing white wand and blasted another hole in the stage, sending a sword-and-shield wielding fighter in the armor of the Edrian Royal Guard tumbling below.

A jagged spike of ice came at her from a robed figure on another side of the crater. Hartigan didn’t even bother to turn — the icicle melted before it got close to her. A casual wave of her hand sent a blast of golden flame in response, sending the robed figure to dive for cover.

There were three other figures surrounding the crater, looking for angles to attack Hartigan. None of them was Hannah.

…Was I too late?

<She could be somewhere else entirely. Hannah isn’t the only high-level opponent that Hartigan could have been tangling with.>

Dawn was right, and worrying wouldn’t change the past in any regard.

I had a powerful enemy in front of me. That was all that mattered.

I walked closer. Hartigan turned as I approached the edge of the crater, her lips turning upward into a smile. “Friend or foe today, Wielder of Dawnbringer?”

“I wouldn’t mind being both.” I raised Dawn to rest her against my shoulder. “I find those are the most enjoyable opponents.”

“A thrill seeker, is it? I can see the appeal.” She snapped her fingers, four spheres of golden flame appearing around her. “But if you’re here to fight today, I’m afraid I don’t have the time for further chat.”

I gave her a nod, then turned to the remaining fighters around the ring. I recognized one more in a suit of Edrian armor, though I couldn’t pinpoint the affiliation of the other two. I turned to the armored figure and said, “Go. You don’t want to be anywhere near this fight.”

The royal guard paled, then gave a fervent nod and turned to run. The other two figures sprinted away a moment later.

Hartigan narrowed her eyes. “I didn’t give them permission to leave.”

Four orbs flew at once, one at each of her remaining targets.

I couldn’t stop them all. Not as I was, at least.

Resplendent Raiment.

Weight vanished from my shoulders as light emanated from my body, tearing through the suppressing shadows and restoring my speed.

<…Huh. That’s a much better name than Aura of Light. You just came up with that?>

This Amuletless Alliterator might have a few inventive ideas from time to time.

My blade-arm moved, a crescent of light flashing outward and tearing the sphere aimed for me in half. Before the attacks even met, I was rushing into the path of the next sphere, the one aimed for the royal guard.

Radiant Dawn.

I smashed the orb with Dawnbringer’s blade, sending it hurtling back toward Hartigan.

The other two orbs had moved too far for me to get in their way, but that didn’t mean I was out of options.

I slammed a foot into the ground, bringing up two walls of stone simultaneously. They blocked the path of the two remaining spheres, and two explosions rocked the area as they impacted.

Hartigan raised her wand, freezing the single orb that was hurtling back in her direction, then frowned at me. “Why defend them?”

“Instinct.” I lowered Dawn. “And to give you a clear message. If you think you can afford to spend effort on other opponents while you’re fighting me, you’re mistaken.”

“Such pride.” Hartigan laughed, shaking her head. “Very well. I will give you my attention for the moment. Don’t disappoint me.”

The other fighters continued to flee, moving far enough from the fight that I deemed them momentarily safe. I caught a brief salute from the fleeing royal guard as he whispered “thanks” in the Edrian tongue.

I didn’t have a chance to acknowledge him with a response. Hartigan was already preparing another attack, this time waving her wand like she was conducting music. Lightning followed the wand’s movement, creating a web of electrical energy that remained hovering in the air.

Good. Time to get the real fight started.

I kept my Resplendent Raiment active. There was no winning against an opponent like this with any of my strength suppressed.

Dawn, Plan Hartigan C.

<Ooooooh, that’s one of my favorites!>

I concentrated on Dawn for just a moment, then jammed her into the stone.

Then, I unslung a second sword from my shoulder. With a moment of concentration on my new blade, I was ready to fight.

Carrying three swords at once was a little excessive, but I liked to be prepared. Against an opponent wielding potent fire magic, The Pale Crescent was a perfect match.

Hartigan was still hovering over the center of the crater. It was a solid thirty feet across, meaning she was about fifteen feet from the edge.

I felt myself grinning as I rushed forward to the edge of the pit, doing exactly what a swordsman shouldn’t do against a flying opponent with ranged attacks.

I jumped.

Hartigan’s expression betrayed only a moment of surprise before she moved her wand toward me.

Much like light spells, lightning-based attacks were slower than true lightning, but their speed varied on a spell-by-spell basis.

This one was as close to the speed of true lightning as I’d ever seen. Even with my light aura on, dodging it would have been impossible. Perhaps with Body of Dawn, I could have attempted it, but I still hadn’t recovered enough to risk using it.

But I had done something else.

I’d activated my Ring of Spell Deflection the moment before I jumped. With a Resplendent Raiment already surrounding me, the effect of the Spell Deflection ring’s activation was subtle — I’d gambled that she wouldn’t see the change.

When the lightning struck me, it rebounded right back at Hartigan, striking her dead-on. She flinched, and in the next instant, I reached out with my senses for the single orb of flame hovering near her.

Ordinarily, Hartigan’s flame shaping abilities were so far above mine that I couldn’t have wrested control of one. But in that moment of distraction at the impact of a spell, her control slipped just enough.

I detonated her fireball, bathing her in the explosion.

It didn’t hurt her. Her own aura of fire was strong enough to block the flames.

It did, however, clear the air of one last obstacle and distract her further while I flew toward her, the Pale Crescent raised high.

I brought my blade down in a glimmering, perfect cut. It was a beautiful attack, if I have to say so. Perfectly planned and executed. It was, however, still a sword swing against an opponent with air magic.

The lightning had expended my spell deflection; I had no further protection from her magic.

An instant before I struck, Hartigan waved her wand, and a sudden burst of air sent me hurtling downward into the pit below.

That might have ended the fight right there, but it was a predictable counter. I’d prepared for that, too.

Dawn, pull!

Dawn was still embedded in the stone on the side of the crater, and in the moment before I’d put her in place, I’d given her a strong magnetic charge.

I’d magnetized the Pale Crescent, too.

As I began to fall, I hurled the Pale Crescent toward Dawn. She reached out at the same time, yanking it toward her.

At the same time, I focused on the chain attached to the Pale Crescent.

Extend.

The chain stretched, allowing it to reach all the way to Dawn’s location. The two blades met, sticking together.

Retract.

The chain yanked me back toward Dawn.

A blast of flame descended from Hartigan. I deflected it with a blast of my own fire, then landed safely on the ground next to Dawn, spinning just in time to cut a handful of bursts of flame magic apart with swings of the Pale Crescent.

Lingering crescents of frozen power floated in the air where I’d made each strike, waiting for my command.

I pulled Dawn out of the ground, holding her in my left hand and the Pale Crescent in my right.

Hartigan reached upward with her wand, a burning sigil appearing in the air above her. “You’re not what I expected. I’d considered you a fool when you first charged that tower alone, but I see now that you’re more than that. That was a brilliant move, but one that could have ended you with a single miscalculation. That was the point, wasn’t it? You enjoyed the risk.”

I felt a grin stretch across my face. “Well, yes. And it was the best way I could think of to outmaneuver you.”

“It seems your gamble has failed, then.” Hartigan shook her head. “How unfortunate for you. Cleverness has its limits. Allow me to demonstrate yours.”

As Hartigan’s symbol burned brighter and brighter, I heard the distant sound of the sky being torn apart.

My entire body reeled as I felt a new source of flame and stone so potent that I could scarcely comprehend it. My head shot upward and my eyes widened as I processed the sheer scale of what I was looking at.

It was a sphere of flames burning with heat beyond reckoning, immolating and melting a sphere of solid rock that dwarfed our section of the arena. As I watched, the gigantic sphere began to descend, molten pieces breaking away — only to float nearby, still held fast by Hartigan’s will.

By all the gods…she just conjured a meteor.

I’d heard legends of people attempting such feats, but I’d never seen anything like it. Such a spell would require an absolute mastery of both flame and stone on a scale that I couldn’t even begin to attempt it.

It’s a bluff, I told myself. But what I felt was something different. It was rare for me to see a demonstration of power and feel what I felt that day — a sense of absolute awe.

Her spell was a thing of beauty, the type of magic that would be remembered for generations if it succeeded. It was a shame I had to ruin it.

“Low Tide.”

With two whispered words, I enacted the last part of my plan.

There were a dozen crescents hovering near me from the places where I’d blocked Hartigan’s last volley of blasts of flame. They flashed forward, but the distance between them and Hartigan was too great for them to interrupt her spell in time.

But I wasn’t counting on them. They were just a distraction.

A single glimmering blade hovered near the center of the pit, right where I’d tried to strike Hartigan out of the air. And with my words, it moved.

The glimmering blade flew right into her, passing through her flames and shroud alike and striking her in the leg.

It wasn’t a deep cut, but it was enough. Hartigan gasped, her concentration wavering.

The conjured meteor exploded in mid-air, raining the arena with molten debris. Bits cracked into the barrier dome, leaving visible cracks, but the shield held.

And then the other blades came, and Hartigan was forced to turn to the defensive, hastily waving her wand to raise a wall of flame in their path.

The flurry of blades passed through the wall, but diminished. By the time they impacted her, they were only a fraction of their original size, but they still left her with a dozen tiny wounds.

Hartigan coughed and instinctively reached for her largest wound as the diminished blades flickered back into their original position in the air, and I raised Dawnbringer’s tip to point straight at her. “I’d ask you to yield, but there isn’t much of a point, is there?”

Hartigan’s hand tightened around her wand, pointing it toward me. “Oh? What makes you say that?”

“You’re relying on your wand too heavily. And while that last spell was absolutely terrifying, the vast majority of your attacks have been far weaker than they should have been. You’re not Hartigan. You’re her simulacrum.”

Hartigan laughed. “I truly did underestimate you. It won’t happen again.” Flames gathered on the tip of her wand, but they seemed anemic now. If I wasn’t mistaken, she’d expended virtually all of the mana she had on that meteor spell.

I wouldn’t let my guard down, though. A thought to Dawn told her to be ready with Radiant Dawn if necessary. “Where’s the real Hartigan?”

“Resting. She didn’t deem this match to be worthy of her direct attention.” She smiled. “If she’d known you were capable of this, perhaps she would have changed her mind.”

I laughed. “I’m flattered. I’ll look forward to our match in the next round.”

Hartigan stared at me for one more moment, then lowered her wand. The flames on the edge extinguished. “The match is yours, Keras Selyrian.”

Then, with a final nod, she folded her arms and descended into the waters below.

[You have defeated seven opponents.]

The message made me laugh.

I felt like I’d just fought a hundred.

With an exhausted breath, I re-sheathed Dawn at my side and deactivated my Resplendent Raiment.

I’d expended almost all of our available light mana, and I needed to conserve what little I had left. A quick glance showed me no nearby opponents.

Wisely, no one else had wanted to get in the way of my fight with Hartigan. That meant I had a rare moment to breathe.

I kept the Pale Crescent out. As long as it was drawn, it was absorbing mana from the air nearby, gradually growing stronger. For the next portion of the fight, I expected to rely on it heavily.

With my free hand, I grabbed a waterskin from my pouch and took a drink. I took a moment to clear my mind, then I had a decision to make.

<The easiest approach would be to just swing the Pale Crescent around a bunch and litter this area with floating blades. You could practically make a fortress out of them.>

I agreed. That was the best strategy.

It was, however, also about the furthest possible thing from my own style — and it had a pretty serious problem.

I wasn’t trying to last as long as possible. My goal was to keep Hannah in the match, and I hadn’t even found her yet.

It was entirely possible she’d already been eliminated, but in spite of the exhaustion that I felt, the fight had only been going for a handful of minutes. Given that she had a whole team to rely upon — and Reika, who was far more mobile than I was — I bet that she’d managed to find some allies and get herself into a defensive position.

Just as I considered that, I felt a rumble in the arena floor.

[The outermost ring of the arena will be removed in five seconds.]

I wasn’t that close to the edge, but it confirmed something we’d discussed before. As the Battle Royale continued, the arena would shrink, gradually forcing combatants closer to each other.

That was good, as far as I was concerned. Less area to search meant finding Hannah more easily — and the person I’d been hoping to meet since the match started.

Unfortunately, that particular target was still moving rapidly from place to place. Pursuit would have to wait.

I focused on something else.

Dawn, can you find Rei?

When I’d made my bond with Dawn, we’d quickly figured out that we could sense each other at a distance. When Dawn’s spirit had been injured, Reika had been forced to make a similar bond with Dawn.

We hadn’t really explored the ramifications — or possibilities — of that in any detail yet. I knew they could hear each other at a short distance now, but we hadn’t had a chance to test anything as far as the width of the arena yet.

<Let me…oh, yeah. Here.>

I felt a flash in my mind, a sense of direction. That was all I needed.

I took off in a run. I didn’t know if Reika and Hannah were in the same place, but it was a good bet that Reika would have more information. And even if she hadn’t found Hannah, Reika and I could fight together more effectively as a team.

The idea of that was kind of exciting. In spite of entering the tournament together, we’d barely had a chance to work together since it had started. A chance for some teamwork sounded like a refreshing change of pace.

I rushed past dozens of other combatants, largely ignoring the fights in motion around me. None of them involved the people I was looking for. A few cuts of the Pale Crescent deflected stray attacks, but I didn’t pause to fight any of my would-be opponents. I’d wasted too much time already.

I jumped over a gap in the ground, spun to deflect a hurled knife, and then ran around a wall near the edge of the stage. What I found on the other side of the wall was absolute chaos.

There must have been twenty people fighting in a space that was only about fifty feet in each direction. There were dozens of holes in the ground, but the real dangers were the hastily erected obstacles that the combatants had created. I saw walls of fire and lightning, spikes protruding from the ground, a whirling vortex of blades, and what looked like a gigantic cage with legs that was chasing a man that was on fire.

Explosions rocked the area as attuned hurled blasts of elemental energy at each other, with most people favoring attacks designed to drive people closer to the arena edges. The logic was sound; the goal was to eliminate people from the match. Almost everyone was focused on avoiding the side of the ring and pushing their enemies ever closer to it.

That made the exceptions notable.

The pair had gleaming silver hair and wore floor-length robes. They stood at the very edge of the ring, not attacking, simply spinning out of the way of each incoming attack and deflecting projectiles with matching blades of silver-white metal.

At the time, I didn’t know enough of your culture’s history to understand the significance of what you would call a “Cursed Pair”, or what my people would call by a much simpler term — twins. As rare as twins were on Kaldwyn, that was not what distracted me the most.

Their hair wasn’t the only part of them that gleamed silver. Their eyes had that lustrous look, too, and no sclera at all.

There were multiple explanations for that, but I defaulted to the one I knew best — rethri, a species from my own homeland distinguished from humans by their eyes. I hadn’t seen any on Kaldwyn, and I was momentarily distracted by their appearance.

As I watched, they linked arms and spun, leaving a glimmering ring floating in the air as they cleaved an incoming stream of attacks apart. They moved in perfect sync, like this battle was a dance they had practiced for years.

As the ground crumbled beneath them, one of the pair hurled the other to the side, then the other extended a hand as they landed, seeming to pull their partner toward them with a spectral string. They landed safely once again.

Their movements were beautiful. For a moment, I was completely transfixed, until a screaming man flew right past me, hurled with incredible strength. He fell right off the edge of the platform and splashed noisily into the water below.

I turned my head to find the source and grinned as I found her. “Keras! You finally made it!”

Reika waved enthusiastically at me. White scales covered much of her exposed skin, and she had a bleeding gash on her forehead that she didn’t seem to notice. I could see the marks of some small burns on her scales, too, and her hair had been darkened by smoke, but otherwise she seemed largely unharmed.

She had both her wings and her tail formed, and from the crimson splatters on her tail spikes, it looked like she’d been using the latter. I hoped she hadn’t hit anyone too hard. It was easy for Reika to lose track of her strength.

I broke into a grin as I ran toward her, casually knocking a lightning bolt out of the air on my way.

Reika threw herself in my arms, and I caught her and lifted her off the ground in a hug. She burst into laughter as I spun her, kicking an errant fireball out of our path before I put her down.

“Hey. How’ve things been on your side?” I asked her.

“Oh, nothing too special.” She reached behind her, grabbing a flaming crossbow bolt out of the air and spinning to hurl it at an incoming swordsman. He fell, clutching an injured leg, and Reika’s tail smacked him right off the edge of the platform. She gave me a grin, showing fangs. “Twelve.”

I wrinkled my nose. “It’s not just numbers that count, it’s quality.”

“I’m that far ahead of you, huh?” Reika’s grin widened. “C’mon, let’s go meet Hannah, she’ll want to see you.”

Without warning, she grabbed me around the waist and took off into the air. I definitely didn’t let out a yelp of surprise. No one can prove it.

Once we were airborne, we were an even more obvious target, but Reika was fast and Hartigan was no longer a threat we had to worry about. She surged across the arena in moments, carrying us to a dome-shaped area near the center with a single small hole in the top. I only had to shape a couple blasts of flame out of the way before we reached our destination.

Hannah stood in the center of a ring of attackers. She was unarmed, at least in the traditional sense, but that hardly mattered. A purple blade-like projection of force emanated from her right arm, and as I watched, she swept it in a ring, cleaving through a spear shaft and an incoming burst of ice magic in a single stroke.

There were five people around her, warily seeking opportunities to strike. From the broken pieces of dozens of weapons around her, many more had already tried and failed.

As Reika and I landed, a swordsman lunged in from behind Hannah and aimed right for her spine. She stepped to the side, not avoiding the attack, but instead catching his sword beneath her left arm. She twisted, snapping the blade in half, and continued to move, swinging the energy blade around her hand across his chest.

The swordsman fell bleeding to the ground, clutching at his wound. When she kicked him in the face a moment later, he vanished completely, removed from the match.

Reika and I rushed forward to meet her, and the group of attackers around her dispersed as we approached.

Hannah turned toward us with a grin. “Took you long enough.” The blade-like energy around her right hand faded as she coughed suddenly, then reached up toward her chest. “Resh. Bastard must have hit me harder than I realized.”

When she brought her hand away, I saw that it was matted with blood.

Reika rushed closer, catching Hannah as she fell to a knee. “You’re hurt pretty bad! We need to get you to a healer.”

“Don’t have any.” She groaned. “Our team’s healer was eliminated immediately.”

“And Executioners don’t heal well, in any case,” I noted. “The attunement interferes.”

“Right.” Hannah winced as Reika helped lift her back into a standing position. “I suppose you must have the same problem.”

From her tone, I wasn’t sure how much Hannah knew about my own powers, but I’d done enough research on Executioners to know that our abilities manifested in similar ways. The blade-like projection she’d used was almost identical to the technique I’d used to cut Reika in our very first fight, although I suspected the Executioner attunement used something closer to Ruin sorcery, rather than whatever my own inherent abilities were.

“To the dome?” Reika asked.

“To the dome,” Hannah replied with a grunt.

Reika nodded, lifted Hannah easily, and then turned to me. “Come on, it’s this way.”

She took off into the air, flying rapidly. I activated my Resplendent Raiment briefly and sprinted, following after the two of them as quickly as I could.

I found what they were talking about easily enough — a dome-shaped barrier of stone toward the dead center of the arena. In spite of choosing not to go on the defensive, Hannah’s team had apparently prepared some kind of fortification. The only opening was on the top, allowing Reika to easily descend into it from the sky.

Breaking straight through it would have been easy for me, but counterproductive for my team. Instead, I ran to the side of the dome and increased my speed, running up the side of it. Running up a dome-shaped surface wasn’t something I had a lot of practice at, but with Dawn’s power increasing my speed and focus, it wasn’t particularly difficult. The stone was rough enough to offer some traction for my boots, and my legs carried me forward with tremendous force with each step. I could have used stone sorcery to grip the stone even more easily, but it wasn’t necessary.

I dropped in the top a few moments after Reika and Hannah did, drawing an alarm from two guards standing inside. I dodged a quick swing from a mace and deflected a hurled blast of lightning before Hannah yelled for the guards to stop.

“He’s with us,” Hannah explained as Reika lowered her against one of the nearby walls.

“Apologies,” the mace-wielding guard said. “I did not know.”

I gave him a dismissive wave. “Not a problem, I should have waited a beat before jumping in after them.”

One of the guards rushed to Hannah’s side, pushing Reika away. Reika stepped over to me, frowning and wiping bloodstained hands on her pants.

There were some hurried words exchanged in Edrian as the guard examined Hannah’s wound. I didn’t catch almost any of it, but I could see the problem clearly enough.

She had a foot-long gash in the center of her breastplate. It wasn’t from anything that had happened when I’d been watching — that swordsman who had attacked her from behind hadn’t hit her.

Given how much it was bleeding, I was surprised she hadn’t been teleported straight out of the arena when it had happened.

<Given how important she is to Edria’s status, they probably won’t remove her from the ring unless they absolutely need to.>

I wrinkled my nose in distaste. That was both unfair to other combatants who were being held to different standards and unfair to Hannah, who had to bear the burden of continuing to fight when anyone else would have been moved out for medical treatment.

The guard she’d been speaking to pressed a palm against the wound. His hand glowed orange, rather than the traditional white or green I usually associated with healing. Hannah shuddered, sweat dripping from her forehead.

“Hurry…up…” Hannah grunted. “Need…to…get back out there.”

“Stay still,” the guard with the glowing hands insisted. “I can’t close this properly if you keep moving.”

As smoke rose from the wound, I realized she wasn’t being healed — not in the conventional sense. No, he was simply burning her injury shut. Having cauterized some of my own injuries in the past, I knew it was absolutely not the type of thing you wanted to happen on a battlefield, or really under any circumstances in general. She wouldn’t be in much of a position to fight afterward, but I also knew that wasn’t likely to stop her.

An explosion rocked the dome, but the thick stone walls held. The two other guards pressed hands against the interior wall, and I saw something briefly shimmer across the surface. Presumably, it was some kind of barrier that was reinforcing the wall. That was good, but I wasn’t sure how long it would remain against sustained bombardment.

Hannah waved me over. “What took you?”

“Sorry, I had a slight delay.” I grinned. “But Hartigan is out of the way.”

Hannah’s eyes widened. “You beat her? Really?”

I tried not to be too offended by how incredulous she sounded. Still, honesty compelled me to elaborate. “It wasn’t the real Hartigan. She just sent in a simulacrum. The real one is apparently recovering outside the arena.”

“Ah. That makes more sense.”

My lips twitched in annoyance. I didn’t know if I could handle the real Hartigan, but I thought I stood a chance.

Hannah winced again, then smacked the hand of the guard that was treating her. “Enough. I need to get back into the fight.”

The other guard shook his head. “Not like this. Take a minute for your armor to kick in.”

“Regeneration effect on the armor?” I asked.

Hannah shook her head. “No. Just pain suppression.” She balled a hand into a fist. “It’ll have to be enough. I owe that bastard.”

“Who did that?” I asked.

“Muramasa.” Hannah gritted her teeth, and I turned to her. “His name is Satoshi Muramasa. He’s a foreigner, like you. He has a sword like yours. It cut through my armor like paper. I should—” She broke into a wracking cough.

I raised an eyebrow at that. “Like mine? He’s a sacred sword wielder?”

“No.” Hannah took a breath. “It’s like your other sword. It has some kind of cutting aura around it. It’s similar to an Executioner blade, but different. When he hit me, it felt like a hundred blades tearing through me at once.”

I felt my blood run cold.

Did someone make a copy of the Dominion Breaker? If so…how?

<Anything that can be made once can be made twice. It’s not like the gods trademarked the thing.>

It took the efforts of four Worldmakers to make the Dominion Breaker, and they’re all gone or dead.

<Sure, but it’s not like difficult tasks of the past stay equally difficult now. A thousand years ago a steel sword was an accomplishment. Now, they’re mass produced in factories.>

I can see that for mundane implements, sure, but divine artifacts still can’t be reproduced with ease. Otherwise, we’d have dozens of Dawnbringers, too. I mean, aside from the cheap knockoffs.

<Maybe he has a cheap knockoff Dominion Breaker.>

That was a horrifying thought. I’d seen one attempt to copy the Dominion Breaker before — a sword called the World Cutter — and it had been hideously dangerous. I’d hoped to collect it to figure out how it worked, but it had ended up with Wrynn.

If there was something else that was similar, I needed to find out about it.

I turned to Reika. “Take me to him.”

“Dunno where he is, sorry. More importantly, we’ve got a bigger problem to deal with. The whole Dalenos team is still on the field. They haven’t been touched, last time I checked.”

Hannah nodded. “They hit our group early on and got the better of the exchange. That’s how we lost our healer. They’re very coordinated.”

I nodded, then turned to Reika. “How do you feel about fighting two on six?”

“Don’t be absurd,” Hannah cut in. “Take the others with you. I’ll be fine here.”

After a brief discussion, one of the royal guards made a hole in the dome surrounding our area and we rushed through it. The hole rapidly closed behind us, leaving Hannah alone to recover inside.

Friedrich, the royal guard who had been treating Hannah, was a Purifier. He used fire and light-based attacks, and he could treat injuries with purity magic that combined the two. Mentally, I reminded myself to get fire resistance gear — the sheer number of people in the tournament who used fire magic was simply absurd. He fought with a partisan, which is basically a spear with extra blade-like protrusions for parrying.

Emma and Bernhart were both Legionnaires. Their attunement was defensive in nature, extending around them to provide protection and increasing the power of other nearby shrouds. Given that the power-boosting from multiple Legionnaires was cumulative, I knew that large groups of them would be devastating on the battlefield. Even two would offer a large advantage to other attuned. They both carried tremendous tower shields and flanged maces.

“This way,” Reika led us through a thinning crowd of other combatants on the stage. I drew Dawn as we ran, but I didn’t need to use her immediately. The two Legionnaires took Reika’s flanks, blocking incoming attacks with their colossal shields. Most of the remaining fighters gave us a wide berth, since we were clearly an organized group and most of those remaining in the area were individuals.

[The outermost ring of the arena will be removed in five seconds.]

As the next ring of the arena fell away into the water, we sighted our opponents: The Dalenos Six.

The six-member Dalenos team wore bright blue uniform robes with the symbol of a single crystal surrounded by six tower-like symbols embroidered on the back.

I recognized two of them by reputation alone.

Takeshi Kurita carried two subtly curved swords, one long and one short. His entire body was wrapped in a visible green shroud that crackled with electrical energy. His eyes narrowed as he saw us approaching, and I saw a flicker of electrical current flow across his pair of blades.

I knew he had two attunements with compounding effects — Champion and Swordmaster. He would no doubt be a devastating physical fighter, likely one of the strongest I’d encountered in the entire tournament.

But he wasn’t the one that worried me.

Haruka Saito stood at the front of the group, surrounded by a brilliant halo of golden light. She carried no weapons, and as we approached, she extended her hands to her side and smiled. She spoke in a friendly tone, but I didn’t understand her words.

I did, however, feel a powerful force reach out to my mind as she greeted us. I sent a burst of light mana to resist the obvious compulsion effect, but it was strong, much stronger than Xiaofan’s attempted control had been.

If I’d understood Edrian, I might have been defeated on the spot.

As it was, when Friedrich dropped his weapon and fell to his knees, and the other royal guards grunted and reached up to cover their ears, I simply blinked and raised Dawnbringer to fight.

Reika moved first. A burst of speed carried her forward, pulling back a fist. Electricity crackled around her hand — she’d activated her shock gauntlets. She aimed a punch straight for Haruka Saito, but she didn’t make it there. Takeshi Kurita jumped straight into her path, his longer blade sweeping down into her path.

Reika grabbed it by the blade. The electrical charge from her gauntlets met with the flickering aura around his sword in a voltaic burst. Reika grunted, likely feeling a portion of that electricity flowing back into her hand, and yanked backward on the sword.

Ordinarily, with Reika’s strength, she would have ripped the weapon right out of her opponent’s hands. Kurita merely showed a moment of surprise, stumbling forward a half-step, then swept his shorter sword upward.

I didn’t see the next part of the exchange — I was too busy jumping forward to stop two other members of the Dalenos team from obliterating my incapacitated allies. Bernhart looked like he was recovering, but the other two were just trembling in place. If anything, they were getting worse.

I smacked an incoming arrow out of the air, then deflected a yari — that’s basically an Artinian spear — aimed at Friedrich’s chest. A moment later, another swordsman was swinging at me with a huge two-handed sword coated in ice.

Burn.

Flames erupted from Dawnbringer’s surface as I parried the blow. The force of the impact knocked the swordsman back, but it barely affected me. Unfortunately, the ice coating meant I couldn’t sense the metal beneath and snap his sword outright — not yet.

After that, I had four attackers facing me. The next moments came quickly.

Resplendent Raiment.

My aura flickered back on.

A figure toward the back of the group hurled dust into the air. I had no idea what it was, so I hurled a blast of fire at him. He scampered backward.

An archer, even further back, nocked an arrow — then vanished entirely.

That’s going to be a pain.

The yari-wielder tapped the bottom of his weapon on the ground, in an uncomfortably Heartlance-like fashion. In spite of the similar gesture, the effect was completely different. Two duplicates of him appeared to his left and right, wielding identical weapons.

Before I could do anything about that, ice sword guy came in with a horizontal swing. I parried again, but this time he stomped the ground and ice rose up beneath both of us, snagging both of our feet.

I understood the tactic. He’d both prevented me from maneuvering and prevented himself from being blasted back out of range with the same technique. It was a clever move.

A smile crossed his face. I punched it. His nose cracked and he fell to the ground, dropping his weapons to grab at his bleeding face.

…I might have hit him a little too hard.

I ducked. I didn’t realize why until a moment later, when the invisible arrow thunked into a stone pillar behind me. Internally, I thanked my metal sense and instincts that moved faster than my conscious mind.

That did, however, put me in a bad position when the three yari-wielders attacked me at once. Ordinarily, dodging might have been wise, but my feet were still frozen to the ground.

Instead, I took a risk.

Body of Iron.

Three spears impacted my chest for an instant. All of them were solid, but only one of them had a point that felt like metal.

None of them broke my skin.

I grabbed the shaft of the yari with the metal tip and pulled, much like Reika had done with Kurita’s weapon. I was countered just as easily, but in a different way. The yari-wielder simply let go of his weapon, throwing me off balance.

In the moment that followed, two attacks hit me — an invisible arrow and a blast of lightning from the guy who had thrown the dust earlier.

The arrow pierced through my tunic, but no further.

Body of Iron was a great defense. It was not, however, the best defense to use against lightning.

The pain that followed was brief, but intense. I’d been hit by stronger lightning attacks, but not by many.

I fell to my knees, barely warding off two more yari-strikes. For a moment, my opponents seemed to hold an advantage.

Just one moment, though.

As the next invisible arrow came in, I caught it and hurled it into the chest of the yari-wielder who had used the metal weapon. He stumbled backward, the arrow stuck in his chest. His duplicates didn’t vanish like I hoped, but they did turn toward him in alarm.

With no one else attacking me at close range, I stood and ripped myself free from the ice. When the next lightning bolt came from the man at the back of the group, I was ready, hurling myself to the side and pointing Dawn in his direction. I felt power building along Dawn’s blade as she understood my intent.

That was when a gentle hand fell on my right arm.

“Please, stop fighting.”

My vision went white.

For a moment, everything seemed…peaceful. Still.

Then, I heard it: A familiar voice, whispering peacefully in my ear.

<Don’t you dare drop me, you lazy awful horrible—>

That woke me up. Well, that and the blast of light mana that Dawn sent searing into my mind.

My vision cleared. My grip on Dawn had loosened, but I hadn’t quite dropped her. Not yet.

My head turned. Haruka Saito’s eyes widened.

Then I grabbed her arm, just like she’d grabbed mine, and pulled her right into the path of an incoming bolt of lightning.

It wasn’t quite as satisfying as I’d hoped. The lightning bolt cracked against her shroud and splintered apart into a dozen directions, leaving her completely unharmed.

Her expression of surprise faded, shifting back to one of gentle calm. “My, my. What a resilient mind you have. I’m afraid you’re going to have to—”

I slammed my forehead into her face. It wasn’t exactly heroic, but she was clearly trying to give another verbal command, and my hands were full.

She staggered, but her shroud diminished the force of the blow much more than I expected. She was still standing in the aftermath, but her friendly expression was gone. “That was very rude.”

“If you think that was rude, you’re going to hate the next part.”

I slammed a foot into the ground.

The stone beneath her opened. I let go.

It seemed like a pretty dramatic way to eliminate an opponent, but there was just one small problem — Haruka Saito hovered in place, unaffected by the missing ground.

Levitation did not, however, save her when Reika punched her in the face with an electrified gauntlet. In fact, it probably made things worse, given just how far Haruka flew off into the distance when Reika hit her.

I heard a crunch when Haruka hit a nearby pillar, then fell to the ground, unmoving.

That was just a moment before I sensed a blade flickering for my face.

My hand went up out of instinct. This time, my Body of Iron wasn’t enough.

When Reika had switched targets out of opportunity, it seemed her opponent had done the same. Takeshi Kurita’s lightning-charged blade bit into my hand, sending a jolt of electricity through my body. I trembled, then concentrated on the metal, trying to snap his blade. It didn’t work. His sword had powerful enchantments, strong enough to resist my command with ease.

He twisted and pulled the blade back, drawing more blood from the wound.

With a grunt, I pressed the injured hand into my chest. Or, more accurately, against the shadeweave tunic on it. A piece of shadeweave cloth broke off immediately, sealing my wound shut but doing little for the pain.

A moment later, an invisible arrow hit Reika, but it failed to penetrate her scales. She hissed, mist flowing out of her eyes, and spun. “Switch?” she asked.

Her intent was clear. “Yep.”

Reika shot forward in a blur, aiming for a target I couldn’t see.

At the same time, I jumped at Kurita, swinging Dawnbringer downward as I moved.

He dodged my swing entirely, flickering to the side with a burst of lightning trailing his movement. I swung Dawn to the right as I landed, but again, he shot backward, leaving an electrical after-image that shocked me when Dawn passed through it.

I stomped the ground, bringing up spikes beneath him. He flickered forward, incredibly fast, and thrust at my chest. I parried the blow easily, but an electrical jolt passed through his blade and into my arm, shocking me again.

By the time I’d swung a counterstrike, he’d flickered backward again, settling on the ground ten feet away in a ready stance.

I gritted my teeth.

Release Body of Iron.

My spell was draining my strength rapidly, and it was also slowing me down. Given how Kurita was fighting, the extra strength and resilience wasn’t worth the cost.

He was fast, but he was also more than that — whenever he flickered from place to place, his stance wasn’t changing.

Some kind of lightning-based teleportation?

I’d never heard of anything quite like that, but I’d fought plenty of teleporting opponents before. I was just about to execute a brilliant anti-teleportation countermeasure when Bernhart smashed Takeshi over the back of the head with a shield. Takeshi dropped like someone had cut the strings holding him in place.

I had absolutely no idea why Bernhart had used his shield rather than his mace. I also had no idea how Bernhart had snuck up on him. I’d just sort of…forgotten he was there, to be honest.

At the time, I wasn’t familiar with the Mesmer attunement. And Bernhart hadn’t told us he had more than one.

When I turned to the left, I saw Reika hurling what appeared to be nothing off of a cliff. A yell and a splash followed. The invisible archer was gone.

Emma and Friedrich had recovered enough to harry the injured yari-wielder and his copies, keeping them off Reika and me.

That left only powder-throwing guy, who was kneeling over Haruka’s crumpled body. He grabbed her, glanced at us, then tossed more powder in the air. It did seemingly nothing.

Then he picked up her body and turned to run.

I moved to pursue the runner, but Bernhart grabbed my arm. When had he gotten close enough to do that?

“Don’t bother. They’re headed straight in Muramasa’s direction, and they don’t stand a chance.”

A smile spread across my face. “That’s perfect. He’s the one I wanted to fight next.”

“No time for that.” He knelt down, picking up Kurita’s body, and hurled it into the nearest hole. I heard a splash a moment later.

I frowned as I processed that.

Why wasn’t Kurita teleported out as soon as he was knocked out? And wait, why wasn’t Haruka teleported out either?

<Maybe those were illusory duplicates? Or simulacra, like Hartigan?>

I frowned. They did seemingly have multiple illusionists — the archer and the yari-wielder. Even so, I felt like something was wrong, I just couldn’t quite place it.

While I contemplated that, Reika flew up behind where the yari-wielders were fighting and grabbed onto the one I’d disarmed. Her gauntlets were no longer electrified — they must have run out of mana — but they didn’t need to be. She simply held him in place while Emma smashed him in the chest.

He bent over double from the force of the blow. His duplicates finally vanished.

Then, Reika lifted him over her head and walked casually to the side of the arena, hurling him off.

Splash.

“Fourteen!” Reika shot me a grin and a hand sign of victory.

I frowned. “Fourteen…wait. Did you hear anything when you knocked Haruka out?”

Reika blinked. “…No. Maybe? Which one was she?”

“The talky one.”

“…N…no. Oh. A fake?”

My hands tightened, which was a mistake. Pain shot through my still-injured left hand. “Yeah.” I scanned the area.

Reika did the same.

“I don’t see them here.”

I turned back to her. “…Which means…”

Reika and I reached the conclusion at the same time. “Hannah.”

All five of us broke into a run.

I was beginning to absolutely loathe illusions, simulacra, and other forms of decoys.

(No offense intended, Vanniv. You’re wonderful and we all love you.)

Reika took to the skies, heading for the dome faster than the rest of us could. This was good, because a moment later, the ground trembled.

It wasn’t the arena getting smaller this time.

No, the entire platform beneath us was breaking apart. With my stone sense, I could feel cracks rapidly forming within the structure as it shook. If someone didn’t stop the process, we’d all soon be plunging into the water below.

Well, except for Reika, and anyone else who could fly. Flying really felt like cheating, but I couldn’t complain. I had some abilities that felt an awful lot like cheating, too.

My group paused briefly as we felt the tremors, scanning the platform for the source. When eyesight failed, I turned to another sense, reaching out into the stone beneath us with my mind.

Mana was flowing everywhere, and in massive quantities. Whoever was causing the earthquake had stone sorcery of tremendous power…and it was coming from the direction that the last Dalenos team members had fled.

“I’ll try to stop the shaking. Go help Hannah.” I told the others.

The royal guards didn’t need any additional urging — they ran on toward Hannah’s direction.

In spite of sounding confident, I wasn’t sure how much I could do to save the platform. My own stone sorcery wasn’t nearly potent enough to stabilize it — my best bet was to interrupt the effect before any further damage was done.

I spun and rushed toward the source of the earthquake, hoping I could get there quickly enough.

<You know, speed is important, but you’re wearing down our mana pretty fast with the aura active. Might want to turn that off soon.>

Dawn was right. I deactivated my Resplendent Raiment. I needed to conserve the light mana that Dawn and I had remaining.

I crested a hill, expecting to find that dust-thrower guy and maybe an unconscious copy of Haruka Saito. I was hoping to find Muramasa, too, given that he apparently had a sword that somehow resembled the Dominion Breaker.

Instead, I found an ambush.

There must have been ten people waiting for me, or at least waiting for whoever was brave (or foolish, but we’ll go with brave) enough to rush toward the source of the earthquake instead of away from it.

At the center of the group was the most stereotypical looking wizard I’d ever seen, complete with black robes and a pointy hat. He had jammed his staff into the ground, and I could see waves of rippling energy flowing down it and into the stone platform. In spite of his silly outfit, the potency of the earth sorcery coming from his staff was so great that I could feel it before he even came into sight.

I also sensed something else — a wave of energy approaching me from one of the other fighters, shaped like a golden net.

I swept Dawn upward, launching a crescent that smashed into the net and knocked it off course. That was a good start, but then eight other people turned toward me.

Uh oh.

They attacked at once, with surprising coordination. Dueling canes. Bolts of lightning. Blasts of fire. Javelins of ice.

There were too many attacks to track, at least with my eyes.

So, I closed them.

<Left. Leap. Duck!>

I moved. Lightning flickered past me, spikes shot up beneath my feet. A dueling cane blast went over my head.

<Kick, punch, block!>

I smashed two bursts of flame — one high, one low — out of the air, then deflected a blast of lightning with Dawn’s blade.

<Duck, duck, turn!>

I ducked a pair of lightning blasts, then swung to my left.

<Jump. Catch.>

I jumped, grabbing a javelin of ice with my free hand.

<Right, cut.>

I surged to the right as I landed, cutting an arrow out of the air.

<Throw.>

I hurled the javelin of ice straight through another blast of fire and heard a thunk as it impacted.

<Now turn and block!>

I twirled around in a circle, Dawn spread out to cleave through anything in the air around me, then brought Dawnbringer up in a defensive stance.

There was nothing there.

Dawn giggled.

<Hah! Got you.>

I groaned and opened my eyes to find the group ahead of me staring in something resembling awe, or possibly confusion at the graceful and yet completely superfluous spin.

Unfortunately, as impressive as my maneuver had been, it hadn’t stopped their leader from channeling a colossal amount of earth mana into his staff. As I watched, he raised the weapon and prepared to jam it into the ground.

I could have tried to stop it with a rapid attack, but two of the people next to him were carrying shields, and there were several other attuned around him preparing new attacks. Even if I struck immediately, there was a good chance someone would intercept the strike or simply blast it out of the air.

Instead, I raised Dawn and sent her a question.

<I…I’ve never tried anything like that. Maybe?>

Good enough. Get ready.

Dawn’s blade glimmered with the brightness of the sun as light mana began to form around her.

The enemy mage jammed his staff into the ground, a shockwave of earth mana rippling outward. I could sense the intent behind that mana — to rip the platform asunder — and that it had enough power to manage that goal.

Radiant Dawn.

I jammed Dawn straight into the ground. At the same time, I concentrated on the stone mana that the mage had sent out. I didn’t try to stop it — I couldn’t have possibly managed that.

Instead, I reached out toward it and pulled.

A colossal flood of stone mana changed its course. Rather than shattering the entire platform, it surged toward me. I wasn’t strong enough to shape nearly all of it, but there was far more than enough to shatter the area where I was standing.

That was, of course, when that stone mana encountered Dawn and collided with the reflective power of her blade. When it did, every bit of that collected mana rebounded right back toward the caster.

Gotcha.

I saw the enemy mage’s eyes widen as he stumbled back, raising his staff to prepare another spell — but it was too late. The spell effect was diminished by colliding with Dawn, but it still served the same function — ripping the platform apart.

With Dawn’s power redirecting it, it began right beneath the original caster.

I deflected two more incoming attacks as I ripped Dawn free from the ground, then turned and ran as the platform began to tear itself asunder. Every step I made was disrupted by the trembling rock, but with Dawn aiding my clarity, I maintained my footing.

<Jump!>

I jumped just as a huge section of the platform broke away beneath me…but not quite far enough. I barely managed to jam Dawn into the side of the platform ahead.

I heard a tremendous crash as nearly a quarter of the platform hit the water behind me. Only then did the trembling finally subside.

Dawn’s blade began to slip. With an instant of concentration, I solidified the stone around her, locking her blade in place.

Then, finally, I took a breath as a voice whispered into my mind.

[You have eliminated eight opponents.]

[You have eliminated nine opponents.]

[You have eliminated ten opponents.]

…

They continued for some time.

[You have eliminated seventeen opponents.]

I felt a grin cross my face as I reached toward the stone with my free hand, forming a hand hold and pulling myself up.

Then, I released Dawn from the grip of the stone and pulled her up with me.

Finally, I could stand on solid ground again…but I had precious little time to rest.

I could sense someone near me. Someone powerful. Someone I’d been waiting for since the start of the match.

<We’re running really, really low on mana. You sure you want to fight him right now?>

I debated, but only for a moment.

With the number of people I’d just eliminated, I was probably near the top of the elimination rankings, if not the highest.

Getting a survival reward would be nice, but it wasn’t my goal.

Protecting Hannah was the most important goal, but the platform had taken tremendous damage, even with my attempts to reflect the earthquake. There was a huge gap between me and her, and my opponent was directly in the way. I could sense him over a hill just ahead, waiting.

I could have found a long way around and tried to avoid him, focusing on defense. Maybe tried to reshape the platform to make myself a bridge across one of the gaps to reach Hannah more easily.

But honestly? That didn’t sound very fun.

<You really do have a one-track mind.>

You can’t tell me you’re not excited, too. Your metaphorical heart is pounding right now, I can tell.

<Well, I know who you’re about to fight. And he is kind of cute…>

I paused for just a moment, reaching into my bag and retrieving two items. I slipped one around my neck and the other on my head. Then, I rushed forward, running over a hill to meet my opponent. We’d waited long enough.

A blast of flame greeted me as soon as my opponent came into sight.

I battered it aside with Dawn’s blade, then cracked my neck and smiled at my opponent.

<How nostalgic! It’s just like when you first met.>

Ishyeal Dawnsglow stood in the midst of a crater, Soulbrand thrust into the stone. His entire body glistened with light mana. He was warding off the power of the arena with his own mana, much like I was. That meant that he was one of few opponents that could still move at full speed during this match.

There were a dozen holes around him, but only a few were from the earthquake or the original design of the arena. The others were all molten gaps, created by melting straight through the ground.

“Ah, Keras.” Ishyeal nodded to me. “Still obsessed with chasing me? I mean, I know I’m gorgeous, but I’m not interested. You could take a hint.”

I smirked, holding Dawn out to my right side and gathering light mana in her blade. “Well, you keep leaving without talking to me. You haven’t written or visited. I don’t know if my heart can take any more of this rejection.”

He pulled Soulbrand up from the ground, raising the sword into a defensive stance. “Oh, now you’re sounding like that on purpose. You’re embarrassing us both.”

“I, for one, am largely immune to embarrassment.” I took a few steps forward, cautious to watch for attacks from other angles. “Now, can we finally have a—”

I sensed metal coming from my right, and fast.

A burst of light mana flooded into my aura, blasting away the pressure around me, and I moved.

A bullet, gleaming with mana, flew through the space where my neck had been a moment before.

Rude.

I spun to find a woman kneeling atop a distant pillar, an unfamiliar long-barreled gun on her knee. She fired once more before I had a chance to react.

I saw the bullet approach. With a slight movement, I stepped to the side, letting it pass right by me.

Then I lifted Dawn and pointed. “Luminous Arc!”

A single line of brilliant white burst from Dawnbringer’s tip, crossing the arena in an instant and piecing through the sniper’s shoulder. She gasped as it burned through her, falling backward off the pillar.

[You have eliminated eighteen opponents.]

I turned back toward Ishyeal just in time to find him reappearing next to me, his blade already in motion.

I raised Dawn in a two-handed grip, parrying just in time. Soulbrand smashed into Dawn with a flare of sparks and I flew backward from the force of the impact.

“Rude.” As I landed, I slid backward to precariously close to the edge of a crater. A moment of focus brought up a wall to arrest my movement, but by the time it appeared, Ishyeal was already in front of me again.

Soulbrand came down, blazing with fury. I barely managed to get Dawn up in time to stop the burning sword’s descent.

Sparks flew on the impact. Ishyeal pressed down, using his height advantage to press Dawnbringer downward toward my shoulder. For an instant, I thought I almost heard something coming from his blade, but it was so quiet and distant that I couldn’t tell if it was just my imagination.

That distraction cost me dearly.

The ground beneath me liquefied as flames burst through it, engulfing my entire body.

Blearily, I understood my mistake. Ishyeal had sent a blast of flame into the ground when he’d embedded Soulbrand in the ground, just like in our first fight — but this time, he’d kept the fire underground until the moment we were in a blade press. It was an incredible amount of flame shaping control, far better than anything I could manage.

As the flames passed over me, I tried to push them aside, but they were simply too powerful.

And so, my body burned, and I fell into the blazing pit below me.

…or, at least, that’s what should have happened, if I’d been a bit less equipped for that battle.

Instead, the amulet around my neck flashed. The first of the Pale King’s Regalia activated, and the flames didn’t burn me in the slightest.

As I fell, I jammed Dawnbringer into the side of the blazing pit, arresting my fall. Then, with a burst of strength, I kicked myself off the side of the still-blazing pit and launched myself into the air.

Airborne, I slashed downward at where Ishyeal still stood. A crescent blade of light flashed downward, ripping through the air.

Ishyeal teleported to avoid the crescent, just as I expected.

With a moment of concentration, I split the blade of light into three, each of which flew toward Ishyeal’s new location atop a nearby pillar. He frowned, his blade flickering downward to smash each of the crescents apart.

I sheathed Dawn as I landed, my hand moving to my shoulder.

Focus on defense. It’s time I took the offensive.

<Got it.>

When Ishyeal reappeared in front of me a moment later, I parried his swing with an entirely different weapon.

The air around us trembled as a blade of living flame met with the tidal force of the moon. And as we parted, a manifestation of crescent force remained in the air as a memory of where our swords had met.

I swung five more times in rapid succession. Ishyeal parried each one, but he fell backward onto the defensive. With each cut came another gleaming blade, and with each moment, my sword grew stronger.

The Pale Crescent was not nearly as powerful as one of the Sacred Swords. It was, however, the perfect counter for a teleporting opponent with a sword of fire.

Every strike, every parry, and every simple motion of my blade reduced the safe portion of the battlefield for Ishyeal to use. And as the Pale Crescent grew, Ishyeal’s frustration grew along with it.

He flickered and appeared behind me. With his speed, countering a swing at my back would have normally been a challenge — but I didn’t need to move.

Low Tide.

A single thought sent a cascade of crescent blades whirling in Ishyeal’s direction, forcing him to abort his attack to defend.

As I spun into a two-handed swing, Ishyeal vanished into the distance — but the crescent blades followed him.

He braced himself, his expression turning serious.

Then, as dozens of blades approached, Ishyeal Dawnsglow raised Soulbrand into the skies.

There was a flash of white. For just an instant as my vision cleared, I saw an afterimage behind him — the flicker of brilliant white wings extending from Ishyeal’s back.

In the aftermath, Soulbrand was surrounded by a torrent of white fire, so bright I couldn’t even look at the sword directly.

When Ishyeal swung his sword, the sea of blades approaching him  simply melted into nothingness.

And that wasn’t even his attack.

“Vermillion Edge.”

As Ishyeal spoke, the flames around his sword surged inward. Soulbrand’s blade glowed hotter and hotter, gleaming like molten metal in a forge.

When Ishyeal raised that glimmering blade to strike, I felt the heat before his attack even began. The air around his sword exploded into a sphere of flame, reducing the ground below him to molten slag and sending a torrent of smoke and ashes into the air.

As I saw that sphere, I felt like the sun had descended upon the battlefield and chosen me as his opponent.

I knew I had no chance of blocking it with the Pale Crescent. Even the sword’s strongest technique, Harvest Moon, couldn’t hope to match against flames of this intensity. Even with the near-invincibility conferred by the Pale King’s Regalia, I couldn’t hope to survive a direct impact from an attack of that magnitude.

I braced myself to do something I knew I was likely to regret.

The sphere rose above Ishyeal, then his expression changed suddenly. He froze, turning to the side with a brief exhalation of air.

Ishyeal’s gaze focused on an inferno of overwhelming power — but it wasn’t the one he’d conjured. In the distance, a pillar of golden flame rose high into the clouds. The sound hit me a moment later, a terrible crack from an explosion with colossal force.

The entire arena island trembled.

“No…” Ishyeal mumbled. He lowered his sword, and the blistering heat of the sphere above him subsided. The orb vanished entirely a moment later. “He’s played me for a fool.”

“You mean…” I stared at the distant explosion.

“Akadi.” Ishyeal’s grip on his blade tightened, his knuckles whitening. “He’s finally made his move.”

CHAPTER V – LIMIT BREAKER

My mind raced as I processed where the explosion had occurred — the Royal Retreat.

Ishyeal raised a hand, and I realized his intent immediately. “Wait! If you’re going to fight Akadi, take me with you.”

His eyes narrowed at me, then he shook his head. “No. I appreciate the offer, but I don’t have the mana to spare.”

Then he vanished, and I made a string of curses as I steadied my footing. I turned toward the location where I’d last seen Hannah, then saw — and felt — another distant explosion.

I took a breath, my jaw tightening.

I had an obligation to help Hannah with the match, and it hadn’t ended. But if Akadi was attacking somewhere in the Royal Retreat, lives were at risk.

The choice was an easy one.

I slammed my foot into the ground, shifting stone to create a hole, and jumped right in.

The moment I impacted the water, I was teleported out of the ring.

[You have been removed from the arena. You have placed…]

I ignored the voice.

I was standing in a waiting room outside of the arena proper. Immediately, a group of arena staff approached me to check if I needed healing.

“Congratulations on getting so far in the battle, Master Selyrian. Please let us know if you’re injured. If you—”

“Sorry.” I burst into movement, heading to the door. “Gotta go.”

I left a group of surprised arena personnel in my wake as I rushed outside, weaved through a crowd of other combatants, and headed to the street. As soon as I was out in the open and had some space, I sent a burst of flame outward to dry my clothing. I felt a slight chill from the use of flame sorcery, but it was worth it to remove the extra weight from the water.

The radiant halo around my body faded as I stopped feeding light mana into my aura. I wasn’t in the arena, so I no longer needed it. Then, I broke into a dead run toward the Royal Retreat. I wanted desperately to use Body of Dawn to move faster, but we absolutely couldn’t have afforded the cost.

I didn’t know the exact size of the arena island, but even with Dawn bolstering my speed, I found myself wishing it was smaller in that moment. Every instant that I was away from the battle was a moment that I felt useless. I needed to get to that fight.

It only took a minute to cross the island and reach the Royal Retreat, but that minute felt like ages. Worse, when I reached the gates, the guards crossed their halberds in front of me.

Another explosion rocked the area a moment later, and I saw them both wince. It was sorely tempting to take that moment to blitz past them, but I restrained myself. Barely.

“I’m here to help.” I waved at the Royal Retreat.

They exchanged looks, and after a moment, said something in Edrian. And then to me, something that translated to, “Don’t speak Valian.”

I grunted and said in hideously broken Edrian something like, “Help you.”

They shook their heads. I caught words like “No” and “battle”, and I took that as a clear rejection.

I wasn’t going to fight them, but I didn’t have time to argue. I rushed to a further spot down the titanic wall around the retreat, out of their sight, and pressed a hand against it. Immediately, an electrical shock surged through me, but my amulet stopped it from doing any harm.

Even protected from the shock, I couldn’t shape the wall. Powerful magic resisted my attempt to manipulate the stone.

I stepped back, preparing to blast right through it with destructive essence.

<Bad Keras, no disintegrating more rocks.>

I grunted. Once again, Dawn had caught me falling back onto my destruction aura.

Instead, I reached into the stone below me and stole one of the Green Guardian’s techniques again. A pillar of stone erupted beneath me. I didn’t have his seemingly infinite mana supply, and the wall in front of me was huge, but I didn’t need too much of a boost. I’d gotten to the point where I could jump a solid twenty or thirty feet without any difficulty.

Once the pillar was tall enough, I jumped over the Royal Retreat’s wall and braced myself as I hit the ground. My amulet flashed again as I landed, but even without it, I doubt the fall would have hurt me much.

I took a moment to orient myself. I’d stepped into an open, grassy area with hedges to my left, right, and straight ahead of me. There were a few different openings in the hedges; the branch to my left would have led back toward where the guards were standing, but that wasn’t where I was headed. Based on the locations of the blasts of golden flame that were still exploding in the sky, the open path in the hedges straight ahead of me would lead toward the battlefield.

I rushed in that direction, but I didn’t make it there right away. As I approached the entrance to the hedge maze, I discovered a very different sign of the battle.

There was a trail of a dozen civilians fleeing out of the hedge maze, some bloodied, others simply looking terrified. As they ran, I saw the reason — they were pursued by three horrifying monsters of legend.

The creatures were hideous caricatures of humanity wrought from living shadow, with spindly limbs and vicious six-fingered claws. Two of them were running on two legs, while the last crawled along the ground at frightening speed. As I watched, one of them leapt toward the back of a screaming nobleman who was rushing for the gates.

Ruinshades. I recognized them on sight, but these were larger and more vicious than the ones I’d seen back in my homeland.

Ruinshades were creatures created by the Sun Eater, the entity that had destroyed the entire planet of Rendalir in the ancient past. When I’d seen them before, they’d been sealed inside a barrier for centuries, ancient remnants of a war that had been long over.

But these…these ruinshades were nothing of the sort. They were free. And much like Akadi, if they managed to get their hands on a human victim, they could claim a living body as their own.

I couldn’t let that happen.

I swung the Pale Crescent as I rushed forward, pushing on the blade of force that the sword created. The resulting shockwave smashed the shade out the air, but didn’t cleave the shade in half like I’d expected. These things were tougher than the ones I’d met before, too.

When the shade landed, it did something unexpected — it ignored me entirely, charging straight back toward his original target.

I gritted my teeth and rushed forward, pushing a pitiful burst of light mana into my legs to bolster my speed. As another ruinshade leapt, I jumped, hurling a blast of flame right into it. It raised both arms to block, but the flames caught it dead-on, knocking it out of the sky. It made a horrifying screech as it landed on the ground, smoke rising from arms filled with gaping holes.

I landed right between the shades and the fleeing civilians, raising the Pale Crescent and smashing the next shade out of the way with brute force.

“Run! You can’t stop them!” I heard someone say from behind me.

“I’ll be fine, go!” I shouted. I lashed out and launched another crescent, smashing another shade to the ground, but it got back up almost immediately.

Fortunately, from the sounds of retreating footsteps behind me, whoever had spoken must have gotten my message.

The shades proved less receptive. Again, one of them tried to leap right past me toward the fleeing group.

That was…strange. I didn’t have time to wonder why they were ignoring me, I just had time to act. I slammed a foot into the ground, forming a pillar that smashed into the abdomen of the airborne shade, knocking it out of the sky.

As it landed, I hurled a blast of fire that sent it skittering backward, avoiding the attack. These shades were fast, too.

As the next shade ran forward, I smashed it to the side with another projected blade, but as it recovered, I saw a problem.

Two more shades had burst through the hedge maze on the opposite side of the civilians. Even if I pushed light mana into my legs again, rushing toward them would have exposed the rear of the group. I couldn’t get a clean angle to swing the Pale Crescent and project a shockwave, either.

You’re up.

I slammed the Pale Crescent into the ground, drawing Dawn and swinging in a single clean motion. As I brought her upward, a glowing blade of light flew forward, arcing right around the terrified civilians and sweeping through the two shades blocking their path.

The shades froze in place, then fell into two halves, cleanly severed in twain. A moment later, they burst into blazing light, opening their mouths to wordlessly cry out until they vanished into nothingness.

One of the civilians turned and stared at me. “D…Dawnbringer…?”

“Go.” I said more insistently than before, then spun just in time to cleave a ruinshade in half at the waist.

As the other two remaining ruinshades howled and charged at me, I smiled. Good, I’ve finally got their attention.

<I think you mean I got their attention.>

She had a point…and I used it. As the next ruinshade leapt at me, I jabbed in the air, sending a piercing blast of light straight through its chest. A gaping hole opened within it, and it burst into flame and disintegrated before it reached me.

The last ruinshade jumped from the opposite side, opening its mouth to reveal a jaw filled with fangs the size of knives. I stabbed it just under the chin, tearing it out of the air and hurling it to the ground, where it blazed and vanished a moment later.

That was the end of the first wave of shades, but nowhere near the end of the conflict. As I watched, more explosions of golden flame burst in the distance, but smaller now.

I understood the meaning of that immediately. I turned to the fleeing civilians for just a moment and saw them heading toward the retreat’s main gate.

They should be safe now, at least. Let’s see if I can help anyone else.

I grabbed the Pale Crescent from the ground, holding it in my left hand and Dawn in my right. Fighting with two swords wasn’t my thing, but in this situation, I had good reasons to use both. The Pale Crescent grew stronger the longer it was drawn, and Dawnbringer was much more effective against the shades, which were weaker against light and fire. I didn’t know what else I was going to encounter, so I kept them both at the ready.

Then I turned and rushed into the hedge maze, toward the explosions.

How’s your mana?

<I recovered a little bit while I was sheathed, but you just used some of it. Not a lot left. Less than a quarter.>

Got it. I’ll try to stick with melee as much as possible.

I wasn’t in much better shape than Dawn was. I didn’t have an easy way to measure my mana, since casting spells didn’t work the same way for me, but the fighting had taken a toll on me just the same. My body ached from my uses of metal and stone, and I could feel the chill in my bones from hurling bursts of fire.

The cost of light mana was subtler, slowing my movements and reducing my mental clarity, but the most significant impact was the most dangerous — using light mana would decrease my resistance to poison, disease, and hostile magic. That presumably included the shade-infecting sickness inflicted by ruinshades.

So, getting injured by one of them was an even worse idea than usual. I contemplated that as I rushed straight into the next group of shades, who were still pursuing the civilians who had fled.

The fight was over in an eyeblink. With Dawn’s gleaming blade, cutting through the ruinshades was like tearing paper. I left six of them in blazing bits, then ran on, deeper into the maze.

That was when I found the first of the bodies.

There were four people on the ground, unconscious with various degrees of injury. I found a ruinshade hovering over one of them, about ready to take a bite, and charged forward in time to slice it in half.

With the immediate threat averted, I was left with a tougher choice.

There were still explosions echoing in the distance, quieter now in spite of my closeness to the fight. That wasn’t a good sign.

But there were people right next to me, too, that needed my help. I had a limited understanding of how ruinshades worked, but I knew that they had a method of infecting people and taking control of them through an illness called the “vek taint”. I didn’t know much about how it worked, though, and if these simple claw and bite marks would be sufficient to cause the sickness.

Even if it didn’t, these people were badly injured. They might simply bleed out if I didn’t help them.

Should I stay and try to treat their wounds, or rush toward the main fight?

My grip tightened around Dawn’s hilt.

<You can’t do everything, Keras. You’re not a healer.>

She was right, but it left a disgusted feeling in my stomach to abandon these people without even trying to help them.

Can you…?

<I don’t know if it’ll help, but I’ll try.>

Dawn’s blade flashed for an instant, projecting a sun-bright wave of light mana across the injured victims. If shade sorcery was responsible for infecting their injuries, there was a chance that light mana would counter it.

The light would do nothing about the bleeding, though. I used two of my five healing potions on the victims, trying to treat the worst of their injuries. I hoped it would be enough. I couldn’t justify delaying any further.

<That burst of mana took almost everything I had left.>

I gave Dawn a silent nod, then ran toward the fighting. I had to hope that what little power I had remaining would be sufficient. I rushed through the last portion of the maze, bursting out into an open clearing, and froze at the sight in front of me.

I’d reached the site where the Valian Embassy had once stood. The embassy itself was entirely missing, revealing only the once-pristine lake below it. The entire lake was pitch black now, but not with blood. Not with ichor.

With shades. Thousands, maybe tens of thousands, of shades.

More of them were walking out of the water with every passing moment, launching themselves at the handful of people that were still standing and fighting by the waterside.

I saw a Guardian smash a shade out of the air with a punch, only to be pulled down by another shade’s claws that reached up through the ground to grab his legs.

A Mender knelt by a wounded companion, pouring gleaming mana into a wound which refused to shut. A woman with a glimmering shield protected him, forcing back a tide of shades with a trident that burned with fire, but her hands were blistered and trembling. The pair would not hold for long.

An Elementalist hurled blasts of lightning into the onrushing tide, but for every shade he felled, a dozen more rose in its place.

A teenage boy waded through a crowd of shades, slashing with a blade that burned with golden radiance. They drew back as he approached, fearing his weapon as they feared Dawn. While he moved with tremendous skill for his age, I could see sweat plastering his forehead. He was pushing himself hard, and likely unsafely low on mana, given how young he seemed to be.

And those were the best among them. On the ground, by the sides of the lake and strewn along the routes toward the myriad entrances to the hedge maze, were bodies. Dozens, maybe hundreds of bodies.

At a glance, I couldn’t tell how many of the victims were still alive. I couldn’t know how many had been infected by the claws and bites of the shades.

But as horrifying as the bodies of the victims on the ground were, the skies were worse.

There were five figures floating in the skies above the lake.

The first was Ishyeal, who had reached the battle before I had. He must have teleported straight there, as I’d expected. He was facing off with a dark-haired man wielding a glimmering spear and surrounded by a hail of fragments of jagged ice. A black mark was visible on the spear-wielder’s forehead.

Zhang Yun, I realized. The professional duelist who fought the crown princess in the opening ceremonies. And with that mark on his face…Akadi must have taken him as a new body.

Ishyeal flickered through the air on phantasmal wings, hurling blasts of flame, but they didn’t even get close to reaching his opponent. Each jet of fire was quickly intercepted by a fragment of ice, which barely seemed to be affected by Ishyeal’s flames.

Watching them, I understood why. Ishyeal had used a colossal amount of mana when he’d prepared that attack against me in the arena, and more still to teleport straight to the battlefield. Oh, and I suppose he probably had used some fighting other people in the Battle Royale, not just me.

From the way his jaw was set and his eyes were narrowed, I could tell he was struggling. The blasts of flame he hurled were nowhere near the intensity I’d seen him manage before.

The next figure was the source of the explosions — Lady Antonia Hartigan. She blazed with an aura of golden flame as she hovered, hurling globe after globe of fire toward her opponent, a man in pitch-black armor covered in spikes.

My jaw tightened as Hartigan’s flames sputtered and died in mid-air, as if their fuel had suddenly exhausted.

I both recognized her opponent and the effect that had just occurred. I’d seen the same effect in the memory crystals when an Elementalist had tried to hurl elemental attacks at Akadi. The dominion of ruin extended in an aura around him, causing spells to rapidly fail and flesh to wither.

The effect was even stronger than I’d seen before. The reason for that was clear enough — Akadi had another new body. The body of Oskar Klein, the Emerald-level Legionnaire who had fought the crown princess during the opening ceremony.

Oskar had barely shown a fraction of his strength in that fight. With both an Emerald-level attunement and a secondary attunement — Sentinel — he was one of the strongest combatants I’d ever seen.

Akadi had been a terrifying opponent even when I’d first seen him. Hannah had told me that they’d already killed Akadi twice. I didn’t know how much stronger he’d grown each time, but a glance at the field of bodies beneath me gave a pretty strong hint.

The fallen people below Oskar had their limbs snapped in unnatural positions. And as I watched, he pointed a finger at that lone Elementalist that still stood below.

“Look out!” I shouted.

I didn’t know if the Elementalist heard me, but it didn’t matter. His arm snapped in twain an instant later, and he fell to the ground. A swarm of opportunistic shades was on top of him an instant later.

Hartigan spun and hurled a blast of flame that split into six, obliterating the shades atop the Elementalist — only to have a smaller figure crash into her from behind, tearing into her back with crimson claws.

My heart sank as I recognized the last of the combatants as Hartigan blasted him away with a burst of air mana.

Ari.

Several things raced through my mind at once.

He’d been so excited to fight in the tournament. His disappointment at losing so early on hadn’t phased him, though. He’d just poured himself back into training…

…And insisted that he still hadn’t shown his true, hidden power.

Ari had gone to the Unclaimed Lands with Xiaofan. Of their group, only the two of them had returned.

Xiaofan had come back changed. At some point in time, a fragment of Akadi’s shade had wrestled away control of her body.

I’d known that, but after Ishyeal had killed Xiaofan, I’d only thought to check in on her sister. I’d failed to consider how Ari might be doing. Xiaofan had been like a sister to him, too, and he could have been emotionally devastated.

Or, as I was quickly realizing, something even worse could have happened.

Now, with a crackling crimson aura flowing around him and a manic grin on his face, I realized with horror that he hadn’t simply been making an idle boast when he’d talked about “hidden power”.

A black mark had stretched across his forehead. The same mark that I’d seen on Akadi’s previous body, and one similar to the corruption I’d seen on Venlyra months before.

Some called it the “vek taint”, and called the people afflicted with it “vek”. But there was a simpler term for it, one easier to remember — the Mark of the Sun Eater. Ari was under his control.

Maybe he had been controlled by an invading shade the entire time I’d known him, but I suspected otherwise. It was both easier to believe and harder to accept that Xiaofan’s death had caused the change, either through magic or simply pushing him past an emotional breaking point.

I didn’t have time to blame myself for failing him. There would be time for that later if I survived the moments that came next.

As Hartigan’s attacks shot toward him, Ari lashed out with claw-like projections of crimson energy and tore them asunder. Then he flickered forward in a burst of speed and slammed a fist toward Hartigan’s chest. She flew backward, but that put her directly into the path of a hurled lance of ice from Zhang Yun.

Ishyeal teleported in the way of the lance, slashing it apart with Soulbrand, but the effort clearly cost him. He wavered in the air, blinking rapidly in disorientation.

Hartigan hissed, hurling a blast of lightning at Oskar. When he raised his hand, it diminished, then vanished before it struck him.

I took a breath, steadying myself and considering.

Ari…

<Can we save him?>

I wished I knew.

Ishyeal had made it clear that he thought those who were afflicted by the vek taint were beyond salvation, at least if they’d been infected for any significant period of time.

If Ari’s little line about “hidden power” was actually referring to some kind of deal with Akadi, or perhaps a corrupted item he’d come into contact with, he’d probably been affected by the vek taint for at least a few weeks. Was that beyond the point where it was reversible?

I didn’t know, and I couldn’t be certain that was what had happened. Maybe Ari had been killed outright, and his body had been taken, much like that royal guard.

But in the absence of knowledge, I had to do what I did best — attack the problem until I found a way to break it into the shape I wanted.

I made a series of rapid cuts with the Pale Crescent. I’d never sheathed it. Simply running with the sword out hadn’t counted as “slashing” for however the sword worked, apparently, so I hadn’t left a trail of crescents behind me in the air.

With Ishyeal and Hartigan already engaging the major threats, I hoped to litter the area with floating blades that I could command. That, unfortunately, didn’t work quite as well as I hoped.

Oskar, still floating in the air, spun toward me the moment I made my first swing. “You.”

“Me.” I gave a little wave with my free hand.

Oskar clenched his fist.

The stone beneath me trembled in answer.

My eyes widened. I leapt just as dozens of spikes erupted from the ground, piercing through the space where I’d been a moment before. As I descended, an opportunistic pair of shades charged me. I lashed out with both swords as I landed, easily slicing the shades in twain. These shades were clearly weaker than the ones I’d fought inside the labyrinth, but their numbers seemed limitless.

While Oskar was distracted, Hartigan hurled a blast of flame at him, but the fire simply vanished as it approached. She frowned and flew backward, getting some distance, while Ari soared after her.

Hartigan’s attacks seemed much weaker than they should have been, but I understood why. She must have spent a huge amount of mana on her simulacrum, and she hadn’t regained that mana yet. And, unlike in previous encounters, she was fighting empty handed. She must have been caught unarmed, perhaps because she’d loaned her wand to her copy.

Moreover, she’d been fighting three on one for a while before Ishyeal and I arrived. From her strained expression, her mana pool was probably almost dry.

That meant I couldn’t count on much help from her. Normally, that wouldn’t have worried me, but I wasn’t exactly in the best of shape myself. I’d used a lot of mana in that arena, and so had Ishyeal. None of us were anywhere close to our best.

That’s probably why he chose this moment to attack. He knew some of us would be in the arena, and he wanted to finish killing Hartigan. He already attacked her once before, but she survived.

<And he brought three of his…people this time.>

I could sense Dawn’s despair at thinking of Ari as being one of Akadi’s host bodies.

We’ll figure something out.

It’s very difficult to sound more optimistic than you feel when you’re talking to someone who can read your mind, but I gave it an honest effort anyway.

I had a plan to try to help Ari, but I knew it was a long shot.

I needed to isolate Ari. My best chance of doing that was to take care of Akadi’s other bodies first.

I pointed the Pale Crescent straight at him and spoke. “High Tide.”

The few blades of force that I’d managed to create from swinging the Pale Crescent flew forward, arcing toward Oskar’s stolen body.

Unlike the lightning, the blades didn’t diminish when they hit Oskar’s aura. I’d gambled on Oskar’s aura being ruin sorcery, which involved gradual degradation over time. As I’d suspected, the stasis-style magic that maintained the crescents protected them.

So, that part of the plan worked.

Unfortunately, when the crescents impacted with Oskar’s armor, they deflected harmlessly off the surface. Apparently, the armor was powerful enough that they couldn’t break through it.

It did accomplish something, though.

Both Zhang Yun and Oskar turned toward me.

Oskar raised a gauntleted finger in my direction, and I understood instantly what was about to occur.

Body of Iron.

Metal mana flooded through my body just in time.

There was a brief, sickening sensation of something inside my right arm shifting, but that was all. Oskar’s attempt to snap my arm in twain had failed.

I was not so easy to break.

Release Body of Iron. I dismissed the spell the moment the strange sensation in my arm faded. I couldn’t afford the exhaustion it would cause if I maintained it, and I’d have to be ready to use it again if he tried the attack a second time.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t the end of the attacks coming in my direction. While I recovered, Zhang Yun waved his free hand, sending a torrent of ice shards in my direction. Ishyeal appeared in front of me, already swinging Soulbrand. A blast of flame obliterated the shards of ice, then Ishyeal vanished and reappeared right behind Zhang Yun, swinging again.

Zhang Yun spun to block with his spear, but Soulbrand cleaved right through the spear’s shaft and bit into Zhang Yun’s arm. The wound ignited instantly, and Zhang Yun screamed in agony and rage, flying backward to avoid a second swing from Soulbrand.

Apparently, Soulbrand actually causes these possessed people pain. That’s good to know.

I spun, bisecting a pair of incoming shades. The few other people still alive on the ground were still fighting, but as they were gradually overwhelmed, more of the shades were slowly turning in my direction.

And more and more shades were pouring out of the water with every passing moment.

Hartigan hurled a more focused attack at Oskar — a straight line of sun-bright fire that forced him to dodge for the first time. After he evaded, he responded by pointing a finger at her. She snapped her fingers and a wall of stone appeared in mid-air, blocking his line of sight.

The stone wall exploded, but Hartigan remained intact — for the moment. Her forehead was plastered with sweat, and from the way she was blinking, it looked like she might lose consciousness at any time.

We need to end this fast.

Apparently, I wasn’t the only one with that impression.

As I fought through a group of shades that had surged past the remaining defenders toward me, the teenaged swordsman I’d seen earlier spun in a circle, tearing a group of shades apart with a shimmering wave of golden light. Then, he swept his sword upward, projecting a crescent wave of light — straight toward Oskar’s back.

Oskar’s armor covered his entire body, head-to-toe. Not even his face was exposed. Weak points were scarce; things like eye holes in his spiked helmet and the areas near his joints that were covered in chain, rather than plate.

And in all those cases, an attack had to make it through that shroud of ruin to even touch him. Throughout the fight, his reflexes and these superior defenses had left him entirely unharmed – right up to the point where a young man struck him from behind.

The crescent shifted in mid-air, reshaping into a spear-like point, and tore straight through the aura around Oskar to strike the gap between his helmet and his neck.

Against an ordinary opponent, it was a perfect strike. I didn’t know how hard the attack had impacted, but an injury to the neck like that could be fatal.

If it had wounded Oskar that badly, he showed no sign. After the attack impacted, he simply turned toward the young man on the ground and calmly raised a hand.

“No.” I heard Hartigan say, her voice somehow cutting through the din of the battle around us. Then, I heard two cracks in rapid succession.

The first was the thunderous roar that happens when something tears through the air at a speed that exceeds the passage of sound, as Hartigan hurled herself in between Oskar and that young swordsman.

The second was the sound of her leg snapping in half. Hartigan swayed in mid-air, sucking in a breath and trembling. Flames rose around her, then died down in an instant.

I heard the young swordsman scream and swing again, but this time, Oskar simply dispersed the crescent of light with a single gesture. Then, he pulled back his axe with his other hand, preparing to throw.

I cut through the last of the shadows surrounding me, then pointed upward. “High Tide.” My floating blades sang as they ripped through the sky toward Oskar again. He swung his axe through the crescents, dispersing them easily, but that bought key moments for Hartigan to retreat.

She lowered toward the ground, the youth rushing toward her. “Auntie!”

She glowered at the young man, who looked far too pale skinned to be her nephew. “I told you to stay out of this.” She reached into a bag at her side, pulling out a bell and hurling it at him.

“But—” He caught the bell with great dexterity. “No. Come with me. I’ll—”

Hartigan waved a hand. The bell jingled. The youth and bell alike vanished, and Hartigan let out a sigh of relief.

I rushed toward her to try to talk, but more shadows appeared in my path.

<There are too many. We’re losing, Keras. You might want to see if she has another bell.>

I gritted my teeth, taking in the sight of the fallen. There were bodies everywhere. If I left now, I’d never save the wounded.

And I’d never save Ari.

Hartigan must have felt the same way. She surged back into the sky, gritting her teeth. She could have flown away in that moment, or any moment earlier — even Oskar wasn’t moving at the speed that Hartigan had demonstrated when she’d surged into the path of his attack and been struck in the place of her nephew. Her broken leg was bleeding terribly, but somehow, she was still fighting.

If Lady Antonia Hartigan could fight with a snapped leg, I could keep fighting, too.

My remaining crescents flew back to their original position. I pointed again, this time at Zhang Yun, who was both heavily injured and less armored than Oskar. “Low Tide.”

The blades shot forward again, but this time, they didn’t even reach their target. Ari flew in the way, stretching his arms wide, and a colossal wave of crimson power rippled across the battlefield. The crescents seemed to distort as soon as they entered the wave, then melted an instant later.

I gritted my teeth as I recognized what I’d seen.

Chaos sorcery.

Void sorcery was the most popular means of countering magic, but it wasn’t the only method. Rather than simply nullifying sorcery like void did, chaos sorcery caused spells to distort, often with unpredictable effects. It wasn’t safe to use, so it wasn’t a commonly practiced method of spell casting where I came from.

Akadi, of course, didn’t care much for safety. He wasn’t using his own body, after all.

The distortion wave ripped across the battlefield in a sphere, forcing Hartigan and Ishyeal to fly backward to avoid it. Still stuck on the ground, I stomped and raised a wall of stone to protect me. Chaos would still damage physical objects, but fortunately, this wave wasn’t intense enough to burn straight through the wall.

When the wave of chaos subsided, I stepped around the wall and swung again immediately, generating another crescent. With a flick of his finger, Ari sent a beam of crimson straight through it, tearing the blade apart. The attack was so fast that I could barely follow it, even with Dawn’s power flowing through me.

Ari’s eyes flashed red as his lips curled into a smile. “Hey, Keras! You made it! This is fantastic. I’ve been waiting to kill you for quite some time now!”

He pulled back a fist, crimson energy gathering around it.

While Ari prepared to attack me, Ishyeal flew back toward Zhang Yun. Hartigan soared further away and began to slowly conjure a huge sphere of golden fire. From the expression on her face, I could tell the spell was taking a tremendous amount of effort. She was probably trying to gather enough power to break through Oskar’s layers of defenses.

Oskar himself simply hovered in the air, watching and waiting. His helmet prevented me from seeing his expression, but his body language showed no sign of concern.

Ari swung his fist, launching a sphere of chaos at me. It wasn’t quite as fast as the beam had been, but it was still too quick for me to dodge. I slashed through it instead.

That was a mistake. The chaos sphere exploded on contact rather than splitting apart like a traditional fireball would have. The detonation hurled me backward, crashing me into my own stone wall. When I pushed myself free from the rubble, I found a large section of my tunic had been blasted away, and I had mild burns on my chest.

My amulet had managed to absorb most of the explosion, but it was failing. It had already been drained in the arena, and chaos interacted badly with defensive magic like the amulet used. I didn’t know if it would be able to help protect me against any further attacks.

I lifted my sword as the amulet’s glow faded and died. The Pale Crescent’s power was still increasing as the fight went on, but without the amulet’s support, any projectiles it made would be easier to break.

That was bad.

What Ari did next was worse.

“Aww, that didn’t hurt you? I guess I should have known better. You’re always cutting through stuff like that. Guess I’ll need to try something more direct!” He flew downward, claw-like projections of mana forming around his hands again.

Charging an armed opponent while unarmed — even from flight — was a dangerous move. With the Pale Crescent, I had a huge reach advantage, and I could have easily skewered him on the way in.

The force that possessed Ari was gambling that I wouldn’t strike him on the way in. If he had access to Ari’s memories — which he likely did — he knew I loathed the idea of hurting my friends.

He was both right and wrong. I didn’t impale him on the Pale Crescent.

…But I still had two swords drawn.

I dropped the Pale Crescent and grabbed Dawn’s hilt with both hands, jamming her blade into Ari’s shoulder. The force of his momentum pushed the sword deeper into his body. His eyes widened for an instant as blood flowed from the wound, then he snarled. “I didn’t think you had it in you.”

Then, showing no sign of pain, he swung at me with his other hand. I released one hand from my grip, catching his wrist and holding him in place.

Then, I concentrated on the blade that was still embedded in Ari’s shoulder.

Golden Dawn.

I channeled every last bit of light mana that I had left straight through the sword into Ari’s body. A burst of radiance flooded forth, exploding at the site of the wound. Black smoke flowed out of the injury as the light poured into him.

Then, and only then, I heard him scream. His mouth turned upward and his voice howled in agony, like a wounded beast. He wrenched backward, trying to pull himself off the sword. My grip around his wrist and the hilt of my sword tightened. For this to work, I needed to make absolutely certain he couldn’t break free.

Now.

<Golden Dawn!>

Dawn’s own remaining mana flashed through her blade and into Ari’s body. Another burst of light exploded from the injury, brighter than before. More smoke rose from the wound. Ari’s aura exploded in fury, and I felt uncomfortably warm in spite of my resistance to flame.

“Ari! Please, if you’re in there…fight him!” I held Dawn in place, hoping that the mere presence of her blade in his body would continue to burn Akadi’s power out of him. In sufficient quantities, the power of light could burn out any form of outside influence.

If we were strong enough, if we’d gotten to him quickly enough, then maybe…

Ari screamed and screamed…and then reached down and grabbed Dawn’s blade with his free hand.

And then, he began to laugh.

“You…you…want to get rid of me?” His voice cracked as blood and black smoke flowed out of his mouth. “You think you can eject me from this vessel? With that pitiful amount of power?”

A crimson glow burst from his chest, then flowed over the rest of his body. “Not a chance.”

He jumped, kicking both legs into my chest and tearing Dawn out of his chest. As he landed, he extended his hand, and the black smoke outside of his body raced back toward him.

<The smoke, Keras!>

I’m on it. Brace yourself.

I’d reached the same conclusion Dawn had.

For just a moment, I set a part of myself free. A rippling aura of destructive power surged out of my body, flowing freely until it wrapped around Dawn’s blade. I swung, projecting that field straight into that smoke.

My power ripped the smoke apart like paper.

And in that instant, every one of Akadi’s bodies, and every single one of the thousands of shades present, turned their heads toward the sky to scream.

As I’d suspected, the smoke had been a fraction of Akadi’s true form — his shade. I’d obliterated that part of him, preventing it from possessing another body or rejoining his true self.

But there was no time to celebrate that victory. I’d struck a wound beyond my understanding, and in the moments that followed, the effect was far beyond what I’d expected.

Every single shade there roared in unison, momentarily feeling a foreign sensation of agony and loss.

And in the aftermath of that, thousands of eyeless faces were turned in my direction.

Uh oh.

The shades moved. All of them, completely ignoring every other fighter on the battlefield.

But, as impossible of a force as that was, that was not the real problem.

No, the real problem was that I’d gotten Akadi’s attention.

As Oskar spun back toward me, he didn’t just raise a finger this time. In an instant, he had surged downward and crossed the distance between us, swinging his two-handed axe.

I raised Dawn to block just in time.

I knew he’d hit me hard, so I braced myself with mana.

Body of Iron.

I was absolutely unprepared for how insufficient that would be. I’d miscalculated his intent.

When Oskar’s axe crashed into Dawn, it carried tremendous strength — but not enough to match my Body of Iron. Few people could come close to my raw physical power, especially when it was enhanced.

That wasn’t the problem.

When his axe connected, he released a burst of sorcery on impact.

Bone sorcery, to be specific.

Every bone in my arms began to tremble as magic tried — and failed — to snap them like twigs. While the sorcery may have failed at its intent, it didn’t stop trying. The pain of my bones shifting inside me was agonizing like nothing I’d ever experienced.

And so, when he swept a hand upward and blasted me backward with a burst of raw force, I was in no condition to defend myself.

I landed right in the center of a waiting crowd of a dozen shades.

They ordinarily might have run from Dawn, but her once-brilliant glow was as dull as I’d ever seen it. She’d spent virtually every fraction of mana she had trying to save Ari, even some of the mana normally used for generating her persistent glow.

They had no fear of her now, and no fear of me.

Move!

I forced my trembling arms to swing, tearing straight through the first shade that neared me.

But it wasn’t enough. Nowhere near enough. The others leapt on me before I could strike again. Dozens of claws ripped into me from all sides.

I felt unbearable slivers of cold shooting through my veins as they tore into me. My Body of Iron offered no protection; the injuries they inflicted were not to my corporeal form, but to something deeper and more distant. My tunic, wrought from shade and spirit, slowed the claws — but it didn’t stop them entirely.

I screamed in agony, falling to my knees. Every claw that ripped into me felt like a cold that sank into the deepest parts of my being. In an instant, my strength was gone.

Golden flames exploded around me as Hartigan finally hurled her conjured sphere. The blast absolutely obliterated the shades surrounding me, but left me untouched. Hartigan’s control was as formidable as her power.

When the smoke cleared from the detonation, however, Oskar himself was still standing. Bits of his armor had melted, but it was still largely intact.

“Repayment.” Oskar waved his hand in Hartigan’s direction without even looking. A coil of grey smoke shot out of his hand, writhing in the air like a snake, and shot off in Hartigan’s direction.

<Keras, an opening!>

I feebly lifted my sword and swung, projecting a cutting wave of light.

Oskar caught it in his free hand. The cutting light shimmered in the air for another instant, then he squeezed his gauntlet. The crescent snapped.

He waved a hand.

A blast of raw kinetic energy hurled me backward, and I hit the ground hard, landing on my back. I tumbled on the rocks, another surge of pain searing into my bones.

<Keras, Keras! Get up! He’s coming, get up!>

Dawn’s voice jarred me into action. I sensed metal coming, and I rolled, avoiding an axe swing that cleaved straight into the ground where I’d been a moment earlier.

Shuddering in pain, I pushed myself back to my knees, but my body refused to move any further. My legs trembled beneath me and I could barely maintain my grip on Dawn. I tried to lift her as Oskar approached, but my arm refused to listen.

When Oskar raised his axe to swing, my mind screamed for me to move, but my body remained locked in place.

“Akadi!” Ishyeal shot downward like a comet, swinging Soulbrand in a two-handed strike. “It ends here!”

Oskar’s empty hand shot out. Ishyeal froze in mid-air as a vice grip of raw force caught him and held him in place.

Move…need to…move…

I tried to lift Dawn, but my fingers wouldn’t even completely close around her grip.

<K…Keras! Move! Move!>

Oskar swung his open hand, a burst of force hurling Ishyeal into the distance.

Ishyeal vanished, then reappeared right next to us, swinging again. Oskar raised his axe to block, but Soulbrand’s blade began to slice right through it.

“Enough.” He waved his free hand, blasting Ishyeal backward.

“You won’t escape me again.” Ishyeal shouted, lifting his sword behind him and preparing to swing. “Binding Blade!”

A burst of white flame erupted from Soulbrand’s blade, engulfing it and extending several feet beyond. Even at a distance, the heat from it was blistering, but I felt a power that extended beyond mere flames within it. With my spiritual sense, I could feel it — a fire that burned beyond the boundaries of worlds.

Soulbrand.

Ishyeal unleashed a portion of his weapon’s true power. And in that moment, I felt a kindling of hope that it would be enough to finally bring Akadi to an end.

He was mid-swing when Oskar extended a single finger in his direction.

“No.”

And then I heard a crack as Ishyeal’s right arm snapped in half.

Soulbrand’s technique ended instantly as Ishyeal screamed, then vanished. Then, I was all alone.

I was still on the ground, my failing grip wrapped around Dawn’s hilt. Oskar loomed over me, and I had a sudden vision of a headsman at the chopping block.

<Move, Keras! You have to move!>

I couldn’t move. Instead, I conjured a ball of fire above by free hand and commanded it to move.

It exploded against Oskar’s armor, doing absolutely nothing.

“Repayment.” Oskar raised his axe, preparing to swing.

My hand trembled on Dawn’s grip, but my arm refused to obey my command.

Oskar’s swing came down with enough strength to cleave me in half.

…And missed as a teenaged boy crashed into his back, blazing with crimson power.

“You…won’t…hurt…him.” Ari trembled as he pulled back a fist, his aura fading as blood trailed from his shoulder. “I…will…defeat—”

Oskar’s axe slammed straight into the center of Ari’s chest.

Ari coughed once, doubling over from the force of the blow. His life spilled out freely from the wound.

“Defective.” Oskar shook his head. “Unfortunate.”

With his other hand, he reached forward and grabbed Ari by the neck to lift him off the ground.

No.

I made a choice in that instant. A choice to utterly refuse the fate that I saw in front of me. A choice to cut through the path to achieve victory and save someone, regardless of the cost.

My spirit reached toward the Sae’kes at my hip, feeling the destructive power within it.

And for the first time, rather than holding that power at bay—

I pulled.

Body of Annihilation.

In that instant, the world was cut.

There was no need to draw the Dominion Breaker. It was simply in my hand, while another sword fell abandoned at my side.

There was no need to choose a part of my opponent to strike. I simply struck all of him at once. Every fraction of body, spirit, and shade. His armor was irrelevant, shredded without effort.

There was no need to fear the remaining enemies near me. When I cut again, a thousand shadows fell at once.

There was no need for the metal mana flowing into me. I cut off the flow of that weaker effect. Only destruction was needed to fuel me.

My eyes scanned the field for more opponents. There were people nearby.

The one burning with white light, carrying a rival sword. A threat.

The spear-wielder. Wounded. Easy prey.

The sorceress, channeling an untold quantity of inferior power. It was a thing of beauty, something to be savored. Though unfathomably dangerous, her power would only feed me if she struck now.

The child, falling to the ground now that the hand holding him up had been obliterated. He was the closest, the easiest target—

<Keras! Stop! Wake up! Wake up!>

A distant voice echoed in my mind. It seemed familiar, somehow, but largely irrelevant. There were still enemies here that needed to be removed from existence.

I pulled back the Dominion Breaker to swing at the nearest threat and—

The tiniest hint of metal mana pulled my arm downward.

I sensed the source of the disruption. The other sword, the one I had been carrying before. Was it a threat now? Unusual.

I heard a body hit the ground. It was irrelevant. The child was a minimal threat.

This sword, however, had disrupted me.

<Keras, you need to listen to me. You’re not yourself right now. The Dominion Breaker, it’s…>

I focused my eyes on the gleaming sword on the ground. So bright. There was great potential for destruction in that light, especially if it was properly recharged and repaired. It was no wonder I had been using it before, even though it was clearly inferior to my true weapon.

It would be a shame to destroy such a beautiful tool, but if it interfered with me, it was a threat.

<…No. Please. K—Keras. You’re scaring me. I—>

The Dominion Breaker sang in my hand, destructive power tearing the air around it as I lifted it to strike. The inferior weapon would not survive when I struck.

<Well, if you won’t stop…then I suppose it’s up to me to fix things, as usual.>

<Body of Annihilation.>

And just like that, the power flowing into me split.

<Yaaah! It hurts!>

The power flowing from the Dominion Breaker into my body eased as a portion of it tore through my bond with Dawn and into her — and, for the first time since activating the ability, a fraction of my mind was my own.

That instant was all it took to process what had happened, and, with horror, concentrate my mind.

Release Body of Annihilation.

Nothing happened.

Power continued to flood freely into me. The chains holding the sword at bay had been torn, and they would not be easily mended.

Gritting my teeth, I focused my mind on the runes on the Dominion Breaker’s blade. I remembered my training.

And with every bit of mental fortitude remaining, I forced down the power of the sword as much as I could as I jammed it into the scabbard at my side. The scabbard was enchanted to contain the Sae’kes. Up until that point, I’d believed its ability to do so was absolute.

Destroy the scabbard. Destroy the rival. Destroy your enemies.

It wasn’t a voice in my mind, not exactly. More like an instinct, one that I fought with every possible fraction of my conscious mind. The power of the sword continued to flow into both Dawn and myself.

For the first time in my life, cracks appeared on the sides of my scabbard.

I trembled, my grip on the sword tightening, and I said something that I’d never hoped to admit.

I can’t do this alone.

<Together, then. I’m with you.>

We spoke it at once in our minds.

<<Release Body of Annihilation.>>

And then, all at once, the flow of power ended.

From Dawn, I felt a surge of pain and anguish, as well as relief that the worst of the agony was over.

Trembling, I processed what I had just done.

Oskar’s form had been obliterated. His armor, body, and spirit — not the slightest fraction of it had been spared.

I’d never offered him a chance to surrender. I’d never tried to see if Oskar Klein might have been alive inside that armored shell, struggling against Akadi’s power.

Perhaps I could have forgiven myself for that lapse in such a desperate situation, if I hadn’t failed so completely in another way.

Ari’s body rested on the ground, an axe still embedded deep in his chest.

I had made a life-changing choice when I used the Dominion Breaker’s power to try to save him—

But I’d made my choice too late.

Ari’s once-bright eyes were closed.

CHAPTER VI – SYMBOL OF FIRE

I fell to my knees, putting my hand on Dawn.

Dawn, can you still hear me? Are you okay?

<It…hurts. But not as badly as what Taer’vys did. I’ve acclimated to your power, just not in that amount. I…think I’ll be okay. Don’t worry about me. Ari…is he?>

With great effort, I ignored the battle in the skies. I picked up Dawn, rose, and dragged myself toward Ari’s body.

<He…heal him, Keras. Quickly.>

I knelt at Ari’s side. There was…too much blood. I grasped the axe that was on his chest, reshaping it so it could be more easily extracted, and pulled it free.

Above me, I was blearily aware of Hartigan and Ishyeal still fighting with Zhang Yun. There were more shades appearing in the lake, but the ones on the surface had been wiped out in the mere moments when the Dominion Breaker had been feeding me. It would take time for the other shades to come free and become a threat.

“Ari, can you hear me?”

There was no reply.

I pulled his shirt open to get a better look at the wound.

And there it was — something so obvious that I’d missed. A sliver of red crystal, embedded in his chest.

The final piece of the broken red crystal that had been in Xiaofan’s scythe. And, very likely, the source of the shade that had possessed his body.

Dawn, brace for contact.

I didn’t have to say anything further. She understood.

Without any further hesitation, I cut into his chest around the crystal and pried it free. Fortunately, Dawn and I felt no attempt from the crystal to invade her blade during the brief moment of contact. If any portion of Akadi — or Venshara — was inside that crystal, the instant they touched was not enough for any sort of possession attempt to occur.

With the crystal piece excised, I reached into my bag and retrieved a healing potion. I poured it across his wounds.

Nothing happened.

Stubbornly, I retrieved a second potion and poured that as well.

I reached for the third and final potion I had remaining.

<Keras…>

I pulled out the bottle, opening the top.

<Keras, stop.>

I lifted the bottle.

<Stop, Keras. You…need to save that for someone who is still alive, Keras.>

My hand trembled.

<He’s gone, Keras.>

I closed my eyes, holding the bottle over Ari’s body.

<He’s gone.>

My eyes remained shut tight. For several seconds, all I could do was breathe.

I’m…sorry, Ari.

I’m so sorry.

<It’s not your fault.>

But she was wrong. I’d failed him.

Eventually, my eyes opened.

But Ari…

His eyes would never open again.

***

I covered Ari’s body and the fragment of red crystal with a wall of stone as I turned back toward the battlefield.

There were still things to fight, and at the moment, I needed something to focus on.

I drank half the healing potion, then tucked away the remains of it. That was enough to get me almost functional again.

I retrieved the Pale Crescent. It hadn’t grown while it wasn’t in my hands, but it hadn’t shrunk, either. And, given all the time that passed, that gave me an idea.

Rest and recover for a while, Dawn.

I tucked Dawn back into her sheath and raised the Pale Crescent as I assessed the battle.

Ishyeal was exchanging a rapid series of attacks with Zhang Yun. They were both in terrible shape. Ishyeal had already been low on mana when the fight started, and now he had a broken arm. While he was tall enough to wield a greatsword with a single hand, it clearly wasn’t as effective. Zhang Yun was injured and his original weapon had broken, but he had conjured an ice scythe sometime when I hadn’t been looking.

Hartigan was hurling smaller attacks to obliterate the shades as they left the water, but she looked like she was about ready to collapse at any time.

There were no other humans still conscious near the water, only bodies. And even with Hartigan’s efforts, some of the seemingly endless tide of shadows were breaking through.

I turned toward her and yelled. “You got anything left?”

She finished hurling an attack and turned toward me. “I…know a spell. But it’ll take some time, and I can only do this once, if I can do it at all.”

“Cast it. I’ll make you an opening.”

Hartigan raised her hands toward the sky, taking a deep breath. “Let it begin, then.”

A soft glow, deceptively weak at first, manifested around her hands.

I pointed at Zhang Yun. “High Tide.”

Then I concentrated on the Pale Crescent and reached out, focusing my mind.

There weren’t many blades left on the battlefield. Ari had destroyed most of them with his burst of chaos mana.

The few remaining blades flew at Zhang Yun, but he disdainfully swatted them out of the air. They were hardly a worthy distraction. Ishyeal tried to capitalize on the minimal movement, but Zhang Yun simply raised a wall of ice in between them.

That illuminated the problem that Ishyeal and Hartigan were dealing with — they were nearly out of mana. So was I. Zhang Yun simply hadn’t gotten tired at all.

As Hartigan continued to reach skyward, her hands glowing brighter now, Zhang Yun hurled a javelin of ice in her direction.

I swung the Pale Crescent upward, pushing flame into my aura around it.

Flame Crescent.

A blazing blade flashed upward, cleaving the javelin in twain — then shifting in mid-air at the call of the Pale Crescent’s High Tide, which was still active.

Zhang Yun blocked a blow from Ishyeal, then raised another ice wall to stop the burning crescent. With a wave of a hand, he conjured a hail of frozen spikes right behind me. I spun to try to smash as many of them as I could out of the air, but a few of them slipped through, jamming into my body. I grunted at the impacts, my tunic and reinforced body preventing them from piercing deeply, but I was in bad shape.

Can’t keep this up much longer.

I sent a burst of flame outward from my skin, melting the icicles that had managed to break my skin. Blood dripped from my open wounds. I wobbled on my feet, barely able to stand.

Ishyeal wasn’t doing much better. He dodged a blast of pure black essence from Zhang Yun’s spear with another teleport, but when he reappeared, his face was visibly pale and sweating. He wavered in mid-air, raising Soulbrand to prepare for another swing, but too slowly. Zhang Yun swung around in his direction and flicked his fingers. Ishyeal flew backward, launched backward by a burst of invisible force.

Hartigan’s hands grew brighter. Something was happening, but she wasn’t kidding about the spell taking a long time — and more and more shades were flowing out of the water by the moment.

It might have been an untenable situation, if not for one small factor—

I’d never sheathed the Pale Crescent between fights.

And while Ari had obliterated the nearby blades I’d conjured, there were still others, floating in a distant part of the city over the arena.

All I’d needed to do was reach out and call them.

And so, as Zhang Yun pursued Ishyeal across the sky, he was greeted not by Soulbrand, but by a torrent of a hundred floating blades tearing through the air. He retreated around the hovering ice wall, allowing the phantasmal blades to crash into it.

They ripped through in moments, forcing Zhang Yun to conjure another wall to stop the tide of blades.

Not a single blade managed to reach him. He turned toward me with an expression of anger and disgust, pointing his spear in my direction. Darkness swirled around it, twisting and seething as if it was alive. The air around him shivered and froze, a shockwave of flame from Soulbrand dissipating before it even reached him.

That’s…not good.

Bleeding and bruised, I raised Dawn with unsteady hands. She didn’t have enough mana left to reflect an attack of that magnitude. I wasn’t sure if I could dodge it.

I braced myself for an impact I wasn’t sure I could survive, but it never came.

In the next moment, I sensed it.

There were no words spoken, no spell name to be announced.

I simply felt something in my chest, in my veins. Heat. Blistering heat.

And then I heard it. The distant sound of the sky being torn apart.

Blake Hartigan, the progenitor of House Hartigan, was known for one accomplishment above all others — the creation of Hartigan’s Star, a ring that allowed him to tear power straight from the Plane of Flame, pulling forth offensive magic on a scale that no other sorcerer could ever match.

As Lady Hartigan’s spell manifested, I realized that she was attempting to mimic her legendary ancestor’s feat.

And she wasn’t wearing a ring.

A symbol — like the one I’d seen from her simulacrum, but a thousand times larger in scale, flashed across the sky, evaporating miles of clouds in an instant.

“Ishyeal, now!” Hartigan screamed.

Soulbrand’s wielder appeared right behind Zhang Yun — but not to cut him.

No, he grabbed Zhang Yun on the shoulder and then vanished.

A moment later, I realized what had happened when I sensed Soulbrand reappear — underwater in the lake.

Then Ishyeal vanished from beneath the waters, reappearing next to me. “You’re going to want to duck.”

I did duck. It hardly mattered.

Hartigan snapped her fingers.

For an instant, it was like the entire world had been encased by the sun.

When my vision cleared, the battlefield was gone.

There were no shades. There was no Zhang Yun.

There was only a lake of fire.

***

The battle was over.

No shade had survived Hartigan’s attack. The portal itself, hidden beneath the lake’s surface, had been burned away by the intensity of her flames.

As I stared into the blaze that had replaced the lake, I tried to comprehend what I’d just witnessed.

I’d seen large-scale fire magic before. I’d heard stories about the original Hartigan casting spells that could consume entire cities.

This…this was more than that.

It wasn’t about the scale, nor the power. Not entirely, at least.

It was the way that the water, an element that should have opposed fire, had somehow been utterly consumed by its opposite.

It was that the spell was so far beyond conventional fire sorcery that I couldn’t sense it properly, like a color beyond violet.

It was that I was standing a hundred feet away from the water line and I hadn’t been burned in the slightest. None of her allies had.

None of that should have been possible.

It was beyond ordinary sorcery. Beyond magic.

It was something that belonged in the realm of myth. The birth of a legend.

And so, I admit that my jaw might have gone just a little bit slack as I watched the waters burn.

Next to me, Ishyeal stared at the blaze with his own expression of awe…mixed with, perhaps, a bit of concern. I couldn’t blame him.

I was rapidly reassessing my chances of handling Hartigan in a fight.

After a dozen breaths of silence, I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts. What I’d just witnessed was incredible, but our concerns were not at an end. “Do you think his shade survived the fire?” I asked.

“No. That…I hesitate to even call it ‘fire’….that Hartigan used. It burned everything within the waters to shreds. There isn’t enough of Akadi’s shade left to reconstruct itself.” After a pause, he added, “Ordinary fire shouldn’t be able to do that.”

“Didn’t look like there was anything ordinary about that attack to me.”

“Agreed.” Ishyeal frowned, still looking disturbed. “Wholeheartedly.”

“Should we expect him to send more shades?” I asked. “Or show up with his true body?”

“No.” Ishyeal shook his head. “We’ve beaten him, for today. We’ve hurt him badly. His generals are defeated. Some,” he gave me a meaningful look, “have been completely eradicated. He will bide his time before making another attempt to strike at us. This is a victory for us.”

I gazed down at the stone wall that I had raised over Ari’s body. “It doesn’t feel like one.”

“No.” Ishyeal spoke quietly. “It does not.”

We were silent for a time, watching the blaze.

“We should see to the living.” I took a breath. “Starting with you.”

I pulled the half of a potion I had left out of my bag. I took a tiny sip, both to help some of my wounds and to demonstrate that it was safe to drink, then offered it to him.

Ishyeal took the bottle, looking it over. “Very well. I’ll owe you for this one.” Then, he downed the remains of the potion, wincing.

“I don’t think it’ll be enough to fix your arm. I can introduce you to a healer, though.”

He shook his head. “I’ll be fine. I know a guy.”

I left that subject at that. “Akadi…what do you think he’s after here?”

“I still don’t know. But what I do know is that he’s only the beginning. He is here to pave the way. We must show that this world is not a place that can be easily conquered. That, at least, should help buy us some time.”

“There’s something you should see.” I moved back to where I’d covered the crystal fragment that had been embedded in Ari’s chest and reshaped the stone to expose it.

“This…” His eyes narrowed as he saw it.

“Might be the source of much of this madness. Do you have a way of checking if it still contains part of Akadi?”

Ishyeal waved a hand. The crystal lifted off the ground, carried by a jet of air. “Yes. I will inspect it when I can.”

“Good. Don’t destroy it — there may be another spirit within, one that could be helpful. Someone who opposed the shades on Rendalir.”

Ishyeal raised an eyebrow at that. “I’ll make sure not to damage it, then.”

“We should meet and discuss how to handle it after you take a look. Where can I find you?”

“I can’t say.”

I gave him a hard look. “This isn’t the time for secrets.”

“It isn’t my secret to give.”

I frowned, but I could understand that reasoning. “Fine. We need to meet and talk more soon, though.”

“I’ll come find you eventually. Hold on, before we discuss things further, give me your hand.”

I raised an eyebrow, but stuck my hand out.

He took my hand in his, then drew in a breath. A glow surrounded his hand, then vanished as the light flowed into my body. I felt the light mana surge into me, instantly making me more awake. “What was that?”

“A purification spell. A precaution, since you were injured by shades. I didn’t sense any of the vek taint on you, but…it’s difficult for me to tell. That terrifying aura of yours is so similar to the Sun Eater’s magic that it makes it difficult for me to sense his influence. I have concerns about that, but for the moment, at least you appear to be free of possession.”

I gestured at the crystal fragment. “Could you do the same thing to that?”

“Yes. I’ll begin the process now, which will suppress the taint within it temporarily. Magical items are more difficult to purify permanently, however. It could take days or weeks to cleanse it completely. Fortunately, I am immune to the vek taint, so there’s little risk for me to hold onto it until the process is done.”

I nodded. It seemed like a good plan. “We’ll need to get the rest of the crystal at some point. If that’s what I think it is, the rest of it is in Xiaofan’s scythe.”

“I will purify the rest of the crystal if you can obtain it.”

“That works.”

“Since you’re insistent on talking further, where are you staying?” he asked.

“The Study of Iron.” I took a breath. “…Assuming they don’t kick me out after this.”

I explained some of the details I’d learned about the crystal, just to make sure he understood enough to take precautions. Even if Ishyeal was immune to the vek taint, I felt he needed all of the information he could get. The last crystal like this I’d dealt with had been able to manifest a body for herself, for example. I didn’t think this one was intact enough to do something like that, but it was worth preparing for.

I watched as Ishyeal bombarded the crystal with light. There was no visible response. Then, he used air magic to manipulate it into a pouch.

I felt a bit of trepidation at someone else taking the gem, but it seemed like the right choice. “I have many more questions for you…but for now, I think we need to see to the injured.”

Ishyeal nodded. “Agreed. Do what you can here. I’ll fly and get healers. I don’t have enough mana left to teleport to one.”

“Understood.” With that, I went to do what I could to treat the injured.

That wasn’t much. I had first aid training, but no beneficial magic.

In truth, I might have been more useful hunting down the remaining shades that had escaped this area earlier, moving into other parts of the royal retreat.

But I didn’t want to leave Ari’s body.

After doing what I could to treat the injured, I went back to him.

And, with great care, I removed the stone covering his body.

Lady Antonia Hartigan floated down next to me. She didn’t land completely, likely because she couldn’t put weight on her broken leg. I briefly regretted giving the healing potion to Ishyeal instead of her. “You knew him?” she asked.

I took a breath. “Not well. Not as well as I should have. But I think he might have been a friend.”

She shook her head. “I saw you try to help him. I didn’t think it would work, truthfully. Waste of mana. But then he saved you, too.”

“I…think he was stronger than any of us gave him credit for.”

Hartigan nodded. “He was talented for his age. Very talented. My nephew would have liked him.”

“I wish they could have met.”

Hartigan smiled sadly. “So do I.”

We were quiet for a moment, then. Finally, Hartigan added, “You fought well out there. Thank you for the help.”

“You’re welcome. I was glad to be here. We…there are things I want to talk to you about sometime. Just…maybe not today.”

“Not today,” Hartigan agreed. “Do you need help with carrying his body?”

I shook my head. “No. I’ll carry him myself. You should get out of here and see a healer.”

She gave me a weak nod. “You should, too.” With that, she turned and flew away, far slower than she had during the fight.

I left the battlefield, too, shortly thereafter. I had a burden of my own to carry, and no mastery of wind to ease the weight.

***

“I’m so sorry.”

I rested Ari’s body on the floor near the entrance of the training hall, in front of Grandmother Iron and Meilin.

There are a handful of moments that have burned themselves into my mind throughout my life.

The moment when I realized Ari’s eyes would not reopen is among them.

So, too, is the moment in which I saw the eyes of the people who loved him gaze at his body, and then shift to me.

It would have been easiest if they held accusation. Anger. Those, I would have understood.

But there was nothing of the kind there.

Only grief. Grief and disappointment.

Meilin walked to the body and laid her head down on his chest, uncaring about the blood that still drenched him.

“You said you’d win this tournament, little brother.” Tears flowed freely from her eyes. “It is too soon. Too soon for…this.”

Her eyes shut.

“…Too soon.”

I took a breath. “I’m so sorry. I…tried to help him, but…”

“You failed.” Grandmother Iron was matter-of-fact in her tone. “Come. Sit. Tell us how.” She pointed to the ground at Ari’s side. “Tell us how Ari fought. I did not raise a weakling. Tell us how Ari fought, right up until his very last breath.”

And so I sat. And I told a tale.

And throughout the night, others gathered.

Reika returned from the arena. Lia, Walter, and Fai came from watching the match. Other students came and gathered.

And with each new arrival came a new tale. A new story of Ari, a memory shared by each.

Stories of his childish pranks. Of his duels, both won and lost. Of his first trip to a spire. Of his travels into the Unclaimed Lands.

Of his boundless energy. Of his endless joy.

And my own tale — a tale I will tell a thousand times.

The tale of a young boy who challenged the spawn of a god.

…And a tale of how he saved me, at the cost of his life.

When the time for tales ended, the circle had grown smaller again. Walter, Reika, Meilin, and Grandmother Iron stayed long past nightfall, keeping vigil around the body with me.

And then, as midnight stuck, Grandmother Iron pressed her hands against his forehead. “Ari, you were young, but you fought and died the death of a warrior. You were not my blood, but you were my child. And so, you will be remembered. You will be buried here, among the graves of other warriors. And,” she turned her eyes to the rest of us. “You will be avenged.”

Without prompting, we each spoke our reply.

“You will be avenged.”

***

The next day was a difficult one.

I heard from Lia that both Reika and I were owed prizes from the tournament. At that moment, I couldn’t really care.

I felt empty. Useless.

I had wielded more power than I’d ever imagined — and I’d still failed.

Worse, if Dawn hadn’t thought quickly, I might have done something far more awful. I might have attacked one of my allies on the battlefield, or even Dawn herself.

I…could have destroyed her, if she hadn’t stopped me.

I needed to talk to her about that, but I didn’t get a chance to do it immediately.

Early in the morning, while Dawn and Reika were still asleep, I was greeted by a contingent of members of the Edrian royal guard. I recognized a couple of them — one had been guarding the Royal Retreat, and another had been in the group I’d more or less rescued from Hartigan’s simulacrum. I got a friendly nod from the latter, but the former only gave me a glare.

A dark-haired woman stepped out at the front of the group. “Keras Selyrian, you’ll need to come with us.”

I had a pretty good idea of what this was about, so I nodded readily. “Lead the way.”

I left Dawn in my room. If I was about to be arrested, I hoped that leaving Dawn with Reika would keep her safer.

They escorted me to a small building with walls made of some kind of glassy, pitch-black material. As we got close, I felt an aura from those walls that felt similar to the suppressing effect that had been in the arena during the second round and the Battle Royale.

Some kind of material infused with shadow or void, then? Hm. Guess this is probably a prison, then, or at least an interrogation chamber.

Shame. I didn’t dress for a prison break today.

Honestly, I didn’t dress for much of anything. I didn’t have my shadeweave tunic on — I’d taken it off after the battle to wash it — so I was just in my ordinary clothing, with the Sae’kes on my hip. I had my rings on, but none of the Pale King’s Regalia. The amulet was still recharging, and I didn’t feel like lugging around the whole set.

I noticed the first hole in my shirt while we approached the entrance.

Was…that there when I put it on?

I was pretty sure it wasn’t.

My jaw tightened. I was used to my clothing wearing down fast, but this shirt had been a relatively recent purchase.

My destruction aura had gotten much, much worse. Using that Body of Annihilation technique had drawn so much essence into my body that it had strengthened my aura more in mere moments than years of casual exposure to the sword had.

Now that I was paying attention, I could feel the aura gradually etching into everything around me. Every stone I stepped on, every blade of grass I passed, and even the air itself was rapidly wearing away.

The royal guards must have noticed, too, because they were walking outside of the aura’s range.

With a bit of deliberate effort, I restrained the aura as best I could…but I’d need a lot more practice to get it under control again. Or, perhaps, get a magical item to assist with containing it. I’d always resisted the idea of using equipment to keep my aura in check, but this was quickly getting into emergency territory.

I let the royal guard lead me into the building. They made no effort to disarm me, which was good, because I wasn’t really in the mood to argue about it.

The guards led me to a private room inside the building with a thick door made of the same material as the exterior walls. Inside that room was a single table with chairs on both sides. The leader of the guards gestured for me to sit, so I did.

Then, she withdrew a document from a bag on her side, tossed it on the table, and said. “Read. Someone will be with you shortly.”

She shut the door.

I picked up the document, looking it over. It was a newspaper — or, at least, an excerpt from one. I looked it over.

Deadly Duel Devastates Valian Embassy

By: Richard Freemont

During yesterday’s Battle Royale, a tremendous battle raged in the skies above the Royal Retreat. Veteran duelist Zhang Yun reportedly challenged the legendary Lady Antonia Hartigan to an unsanctioned duel over a slight in a previous tournament round, which rapidly escalated as each combatant unleashed the fullness of their power.

According to eye witnesses, Zhang Yun revealed a previously undisclosed Conjurer attunement to summon shadow-like monsters, giving him an edge in the battle. As the battle proceeded, Hartigan used progressively more potent fire attacks to eliminate the shadows, pushing her opponent back. At this point, Zhang Yun used a form of forbidden magic to open a portal underneath the waters of Lake Lidrian, our island’s primary water source.

The shadows that emerged from this portal were uncontrolled, attacking both Hartigan and onlookers in the area alike. As an emergency measure, the Valian Embassy was quickly moved, but not before sustaining damage.

Zhang Yun refused to stop the duel, in spite of the escalating danger to civilians. To eliminate the portal, Hartigan utilized a fire spell of unprecedented power, fatally injuring her opponent and setting the waters of Lake Lidrian ablaze.

Lady Hartigan’s victory came at significant cost. Collateral damage from the battle was immense, and though Zhang Yun initiated the duel and utilized forbidden magic, Lady Hartigan bears responsibility for accepting a duel in a civilian-populated area. She is reportedly being held for questioning at this time while she awaits sentencing for her role in the widespread destruction that occurred.

I clenched my teeth, crumpling the page.

Propaganda.

This is propaganda, plain and simple.

I drew in a deep breath, shaking my head just as the door to the room opened and Hannah stepped inside.

“Drink?” she asked, setting a bottle and two glasses on the table between us.

“I’ll pass for now.” I set the crumbled page down, noting that there were fresh cuts in the paper where I’d gripped it, like it had been torn apart by blades.

Hannah nodded. “It is a bit early.” She poured herself a glass regardless, then downed it in one gulp. She winced at the aftertaste, then spoke again. “I’ll be direct. That paper describes what you witnessed in the Royal Retreat. You won’t be arrested for breaking into the Royal Retreat, and I’ll give you your reward for helping me reach third place in the Battle Royale.”

I narrowed my eyes. “This isn’t even close to what happened.”

“Of course not. What exactly do you think would happen if we told the average citizen that there are body-stealing monsters from another planet murdering people from the tournament and taking their bodies?”

I sighed. “Sure, I get that you don’t want people to panic. But this article is implying Hartigan was complicit in the destruction that happened. She was a target, and you’re making her sound responsible.”

“Hartigan is cooperating.”

I raised an eyebrow at that, legitimately surprised. “Why? I can’t imagine you’d let her supposed crime go unpunished.”

“We’ve made an arrangement. I wouldn’t say it’s making her happy, exactly, but satisfied.”

I folded my arms. “I’m going to need a little more than that.”

“I can’t disclose the details of the arrangement.”

“Okay. Then let me talk to her.”

Hannah frowned, then nodded. “Wait here. I’ll see if she’s willing to talk to you. Think carefully about what actions you want to take here.”

I understood the threat hidden in that last line.

Did I want to make an enemy of Hannah by refusing to cooperate? And if I did, would I be making an enemy of Edria as a whole?

Hannah left, closing the door behind her.

Fortunately, I had a book in my bag. I’d started carrying them after the first round of the tournament.

It was only an hour or two before the door opened again. By that time, the brand-new book was already looking tattered, with tiny cuts all over the pages I’d touched.

I tucked the book away.

Reika is going to murder me if I keep ruining books like this.

Then, I turned to the door.

Lady Antonia Hartigan limped in, resting much of her weight on a new cane. She gave me a nod as she sat down across from me. She looked…drained. Older. It was a subtle thing, but I thought she had more grey in her hair than I remembered seeing before.

Ruin sorcery, I realized. Akadi’s aura and spells must have taken a great deal out of her.

Hannah nodded to me from the doorway. “I’ll give you two some time to talk alone.”

The door closed. I poured Hartigan a drink from my own unused cup. “Hannah left this last time she was here. I haven’t checked it for poison.”

Hartigan laughed. “I don’t need a drink right now, poisoned or otherwise.” She groaned, shifting in her chair, but failing to find a comfortable position.

“How’s your recovery going?” I asked.

“Badly. Whatever magic that creature used, it refuses to heal properly. They set my leg the old-fashioned way. For a time, it seems I’ll be relying on this.” She tapped the top of her cane. “Save the platitudes, however. I need to get back to business soon. You wanted to talk?”

I pushed the crumpled page across the table. “You’re agreeing to this version of the story?”

“Ah. Yes.” Her hand tightened around the top of the cane. “Unfortunately, it seems the best solution to a number of problems. We’ve reached a deal.”

“Hannah told me there was a deal, but no details. I wanted to make sure you aren’t being coerced.”

Hartigan laughed. “Even in my current state, they couldn’t force me to do anything. Don’t worry yourself. I’m getting something few people would dream of out of this, even if it leaves a bitter taste in my mouth to leave the tournament so early.”

“So, you’re dropping out of the tournament, then?” I sighed. “I was hoping to fight you again.”

Hartigan gave me what looked like a sincere smile. “I might have enjoyed that, too, but it’s impossible now. With my injuries failing to respond to healing…” She shook her head. “I couldn’t have fought properly, anyway. They needed a story to tell, and I can’t say I truly bear no responsibility. I should have been more proactive after the first assassination attempt. And now…I’m sorry about your friend.”

“Thank you. For what it’s worth, I think he was already possessed — or at least infected — long before you got involved in this whole affair.”

Hartigan nodded. “Regardless, someone needs to be a face for the destruction that occurred. I will take responsibility and face banishment from Edria — which, of course, will also take me out of the competition. In exchange, I will be given two favors.”

“What sort of favors?”

“Visage’s favors.” She gave a weak smile. “Each comparable to reaching the middle of each of Edria’s spires, since I will no longer have access to them. Such boons would ordinarily be the work of lifetimes…and I’m being given them simply for agreeing to a lie. It leaves a foul taste, but I see no better option.”

I nodded slowly. “If you wanted to refuse, I would speak the truth along with you.”

“No. Hannah is right about one thing — spreading the truth of this affair would only cause a panic. And I should leave Edria regardless. We have better healers at home, and I can no longer justify risking my nephew’s life here.”

“Ah.” I nodded in understanding to that. “The teenager who you tossed the bell to?”

She gave the warmest smile I’d seen so far. “He is my pride. My successor. Someday, I believe his power may eclipse even my own. But for now…I cannot allow him to remain in harm’s way if there are further attacks. We may have defeated those assassins, but I cannot be certain there will not be more.”

“There almost definitely will be.” I took a few minutes to explain what I knew of Akadi and how his possession worked. I also told her what I knew about the sorcery that he used.

“A descendant of the Sun Eater…even having fought him myself, it’s the sort of story that strains belief. And if ruin sorcery is what he used against me…well, it may be that healing may not work at all. Thank you. Both for the knowledge and for joining me in the fight. Will you be staying in the tournament?”

I blinked. “I hadn’t even considered withdrawing.”

Hartigan laughed. “No, of course not. You don’t seem like the type. Very well. I will wish you the best of luck in your battles to come, then. And I hope you can secure a good deal of your own.”

“Thank you. One last question. What can you tell me about the Fall of Velthryn and the exodus to Valia?”

She blinked, noticeably surprised by the question. “I…that was hundreds of years ago. I haven’t studied ancient history since I was a little girl. Why?”

“I was hoping that someone from your house might know more than others about certain details. Who attacked Velthryn, why, how quickly it fell…”

She frowned. “I don’t know a lot of details. There was a sorcerer of unparalleled power named Botheas, and he somehow learned to raise the dead and use them as puppets, like the old Xixian Empire did. Alex might remember more — he looked into teaching history for a while.”

That was already some useful information, even if it wasn’t much. “Alex? Oh, Alexander Theas?”

She nodded. “Yes. I won’t be staying long enough to introduce you directly, but I can give you his address.” She removed a pen from her pouch and wrote on the back of the newspaper. “He may be a bit touchy about it, but he’s knowledgeable.”

“Thank you.” I accepted the paper, tucking it away and hoping that it would last long enough for me to find Theas and talk to him. “I wish you and your nephew a safe journey back home.”

“And you as well, Keras. Perhaps we can have another match when I’ve recovered and you come back to Valia.”

I grinned at her. “I’ll look forward to it.”

With that, Hartigan headed to the door and knocked twice. Hannah opened it, letting Hartigan out and coming to sit back down. “Satisfied?”

“Not precisely, but better. I’ll cooperate, but I want something in return.”

“Such as?”

“A visage boon, like Hartigan is getting. Just one is fine.”

Hannah laughed. “You don’t think small, do you? No, sorry. I had to burn a favor with the emperor himself to arrange for that. I don’t have another one to spend. I can’t.”

I sighed. “Okay. Can you get me an introduction to one of the visages, at least?”

“I’ll look into that, but don’t count on it. Anything more reasonable?”

What I wanted was a way to help contain my aura — but I wasn’t sure if I could trust Hannah enough to ask for that directly. “Give me some time to think about it.”

She raised an eyebrow at me. “I’m not agreeing to an open-ended favor.”

“How about you owe me a reasonable favor that we’ll discuss in the future?”

“Fine, fine. Anything to get this done with.” She poured herself another drink, then noted my own full glass. “You going to drink that?”

I shook my head. She drank both cups. “Okay. I expect you to maintain this story to anyone who asks.”

“I’ve already talked to a few people.”

She grimaced. “Who?”

“I’d rather not say. I don’t want them to be targets.”

She sighed. “What sort of person do you take me for? Never mind. Don’t answer that. Fine. I assume it’s just the people at the Study of Iron, and that’s manageable. Just…tell them not to spread the story, either.”

“I can agree to do that.”

“Good.” She extended a hand, which I shook in the Edrian style. “We need to talk strategy for any future problems with Akadi, but I need to spend a few days dealing with this first. We bloodied his nose, and I don’t expect him to act again immediately.”

“I agree, but some precautions might be wise. Additional guards for anyone who seems a likely target, for example. Akadi seems to be targeting people with powerful fire magic. If you know anyone else that fits, you should warn them to prepare themselves.”

“Of course. We’ll get that in motion.”

“Also, everyone else who fought in the opening ceremony against Edria Song needs to be warned.”

Hannah frowned. “What makes you say that?”

I blinked. “Are you kidding? All three of the people he just possessed were participants. That’s not a coincidence. You need to warn Alexander Theas and Kamaria Clarent.”

She looked oddly annoyed, but ultimately sighed and gave a slight nod. “I suppose I can do that.”

“Why so reticent?”

“…Alexander Theas is a complicated man. And not a quiet one.”

“Ah.” That was a partial explanation, at least. “Well, it needs to be done.”

“I already agreed.” She narrowed her eyes. “Anything else?”

“Any progress with the scythe?” I asked.

“Still being studied, but I’ll see about speeding that up so we can get you a clear answer.”

“Good.”

With that, we concluded the discussion.

I didn’t head straight home. First, I had to buy a few entirely new sets of clothes. Unless I made some changes, they wouldn’t last very long.

***

After buying the clothes and heading back to the Study of Iron, I filled everyone in on what I’d agreed to. No one was particularly happy about it, but they agreed not to spread the story further.

Meilin still wouldn’t talk to me directly, but Reika agreed to tell her about it.

Next, I had anonymous and vague warning letters sent to Kamaria Clarent and Alexander Theas. Enough information to make it clear that they could be real targets and some advice on how to defend themselves, but nothing that would violate my agreement with Hannah.

Hannah had agreed to do it herself, of course, but I didn’t trust that in the slightest.

When all that was dealt with, I went back to my room.

I felt hollow. Numb.

But that wasn’t the end of things, either.

When I’d unleashed that power, I might not have physically harmed Dawn as badly as I’d feared…but I’d hurt her in another way. One that was, in many respects, more important.

As evening came and I went to my room to rest, I heard Dawn’s voice in my mind.

<Keras, we need to talk about what happened when you drew mana from the Dominion Breaker.>

I’m so sorry, Dawn. I…wasn’t thinking. I shouldn’t have used that.

<That’s not the problem. Or, at least, not the main problem.>

I frowned. What do you mean?

<I…I was terrified when you did that. When I thought you’d hurt me. But what hurt even more is that I was completely unprepared for it. And I was unprepared because there’s something you’ve been hiding from me this entire time.>

Dawn…I…

<When you tapped into the Dominion Breaker…it was like you were an entirely different person. I would have assumed it was some kind of mind control or curse from the sword, but…I could feel your essence when it happened. I could read your mind. It wasn’t like you were being controlled, exactly. It felt more like…you and the sword were two parts of the same whole.>

That…might be true.

<Who are you, really, Keras? What are you?>

And there it was. The question I had been avoiding.

She was right. I had been hiding something from her.

I…I’ve always been a little strange, Dawn. Did I tell you about my childhood?

<Not really, aside from the Tyrant in Gold burning down your peasant village and an old wizard sending you off on a quest for revenge.>

That’s…mostly not what happened.

<Uh-huh. But there was nothing in there that would make you, say, try to kill me when you’re drawing power from the Dominion Breaker. So, let’s try this again. Who are you, Keras? What are you?>

Well, it’s…I might not exactly be quite human, Dawn.

<Elaborate on that.>

So, you kind of got the details for my heroic backstory wrong. My parents apparently must have fought the Tyrant in Gold. Then, while my father was dying, he handed off baby me to an old sage. But the person who handed me off to the old sage…well, he was supposed to be the God of Swords.

<Are you trying to tell me that you’re a god, Keras? Because that feels kind of like the sort of thing you should tell a girl before you make a life-long spirit contract with her.>

I winced, and not because of the pain from my injuries.

Sorry, Dawn. I don’t actually know what I am. You see, that’s not the whole story. I thought I might be a god or a demigod while I was growing up, but the last time I talked to the old sage, he told me something else. He didn’t know what I am, either, but he did have a theory.

<Say it. I can read your mind. But I want to hear you say it.>

I…might be the sword.

The Dominion Breaker.

I might be the Dominion Breaker. The spirit of it. Or the avatar of it. Something like that.

<…And…you didn’t think you should tell me this.>

I didn’t know if it was true…I still don’t know if it’s…

<I can tell when you’re lying to me. You know, even if you won’t admit it to yourself.>

I knew there was some kind of connection, but I didn’t know the nature of it. I still don’t. That’s true, Dawn.

<Maybe, but you still should have told me. I spent my entire life thinking I might be…alone. If you are what you seem to be…a sword with a human body…you’re…you’re everything I’ve always wanted to be.>

…I know. But I also know it would have broken your heart if I told you, then we found out I was wrong.

She was silent for a moment.

<This is breaking my heart, too. You…could have trusted me, Keras. You’re right that it would have hurt me if you’d told me that and turned out to be wrong, but…that would have been better than finding out when you’re about to kill me.>

I’m…truly sorry about that, Dawn. I didn’t know I was going to lose control. I’d never used that technique before and…I’m still figuring all this out. Who I really am, what that means…

<You should have at least told me before we made the bond, Keras. You told me there were risks, sure, but…my bond was made for humans. You’ve been worried that attunements might not work right on you — bonding my spirit was the same risk, but to both of us, and probably more severe.>

I winced. She was right, of course. I’d violated her trust.

There was nothing I could really say to that, so I was silent for a time. Thinking. Hurting. The best I could come up with was…

Please forgive me.

<I…don’t know if I can, Keras. You…really hurt me. Making me take risks without all the information is bad enough, but…if I’m honest, that’s not even my biggest problem. You know how much getting a body means to me. You’ve given me so much hope by searching for ways to help…but that all feels like a lie right now. If there’s any chance that we’re the same, your body could be an obvious key to finding a solution to my problem. And you’ve never even hinted at that.>

I…I’m sorry, Dawn. It’s not something I really considered. Getting people to analyze my body, or my connection with my sword…there would be significant risks.

<I get that. Your sword is dangerous. You don’t know people on this continent. You don’t trust them. But I thought you trusted me. We could have made a plan together. Maybe the Spirit Gateway Crystal could have told us more about your nature, if we’d even asked.>

I’m sorry.

<I know. And I’m not sure if that’s good enough.>

I…get that.

<I want you to take me to Reika and leave me with her for a while.>

Okay. I’m really…

<Enough. Maybe I’m overreacting, but…this is a big deal to me, and I’m…not okay. I…can’t talk about this anymore. Not right now. Goodbye, Keras. I’m sorry, too.>

Then she fell silent—

And I couldn’t feel her thoughts at all.

None of the usual empathy that came with our connection.

She’d cut me off.

***

There was an absence in my mind where Dawn had been.

The glowing mark that represented our bond still shined on my hand, but more dimly than before. I could feel only the slightest thread of essence flowing through that connection. She hadn’t actually broken our contract — she’d effectively just slammed a telepathic door in my face, and I couldn’t hear her through it.

Honestly, I had no idea she could do that. I wasn’t sure if I could have done the same to her. It hadn’t really occurred to me to try, but I’d never been as angry at Dawn as she was with me.

I knew I’d made a serious mistake. Sure, I had my reasons for withholding information, but ultimately, she was right — I should have trusted her. Even if I was uncertain about my nature, she deserved to know, both for practical reasons — like possible side-effects from the spirit bond being designed for humans — and more personal ones. Even knowing that I’d made a mistake, I wasn’t actually sure on how to fix it.

The first step was probably doing what Dawn had asked me to do. I went and found Rei. She was reading in her room.

“Hey. You look awfully down. I know we’re all still hurting, but what happened with Ari…you did everything you could.”

“I…still disagree with that, but that’s not the issue right now. I made a serious mistake and Dawn is angry at me.” I unbuckled my belt, removed Dawn and her scabbard, and handed her to Reika. “She wants to be with you for a while.”

Reika stared at me. “That bad?”

I took a sharp breath. “Yeah.”

“What’d you do?” She took Dawn’s scabbard. “I mean, I’m sure she’ll tell me, but maybe I should hear your side before she gets me into a frothing rage and I decide to destroy you.”

I fastened my belt back on.

You’d think it might have felt lighter without a second sword, but really, at that moment it felt much heavier.

It was much easier to notice the burden of one sword when I didn’t have a second to balance it on the other side.

I glanced around, nervous that other people might be near enough to hear us. “I almost hurt her in the fight with Akadi…but that’s not the worst part, at least to her.”

Reika tensed, folding her arms. “You’ve got some explaining to do.”

I winced, then I moved closer to Reika and whispered. “She knows that almost hurting her wasn’t intentional, but…she was reading my thoughts, and I may have implied I’m not actually human. So, she asked me about it, and I told her some things.”

“Oh…” Reika shut her eyes, sighed, and shook her head. Then, she belted Dawnbringer on. “Was wondering when you’d finally get to talking to us about that.”

I blinked. “What?”

“I mean, I know you’re from a weird continent and stuff, but Keras? I’ve been fighting quite a few humans out here. They’re not built like you. They don’t hit like you, even with magic.” Her eyes opened, staring into mine. “You never struck me as human. That’s probably why you get along with us so easily. I’ve been wondering why you’d keep that from us.”

“I…there’s more than that.”

I told her the rest of it.

Her eyes narrowed. “I can see why you didn’t talk to us about it, if you’re not sure…but you really should have. I’m not going to speak for Dawn, but I wouldn’t have judged you for it. Truthfully, I think it would have made things easier for all of us if you’d spoken up earlier.”

“I’m sorry, Reika. I should have told you both sooner.”

She nodded. “Good. I believe you. Now, go away.”

“Are you angry at me?”

“Not as much as Dawn, but I’m pretty mad on her behalf. You need to think about how much this means to her, and how unfair you’ve been. And — accident or not — I’m not happy that you could have killed Dawn if she hadn’t stopped you. I understand the circumstances, but you need to be more careful in the future.”

I took a breath. “Okay. I’m sorry. I’ll leave you two alone for a while.”

“Shut the door on your way out.”

I did as she asked.

And as I left, I felt alone for the first time since Reika and I had met.

***

I went for a walk to clear my head and run through some ideas.

It was late at night, but there were still plenty of people out and about. One of the peculiarities of the arena island was that there were events of some kind going at all hours. I could have gone and watched some fights, or maybe even participated in one to make some cash, but my heart wasn’t in it.

For a time, I simply wandered until I found myself in an unfamiliar part of the island. The crowds gradually dissipated as I moved away from the main arena complex and toward the outer edge of the island.

I got myself lost in a tangle of tall buildings, more or less deliberately. It was nice to just disappear every once in a while, and the combination of quiet and exercise helped me consider what to do next.

Maybe I should buy them flowers or something…? But would that feel like I was just trying to buy forgiveness?

Dawn might like it anyway. She tends to appreciate signs that I actually care. Maybe something more personalized, like another scabbard?

Better…oh, maybe I could actually make her something.

That could…

I froze.

It could have been nothing but the wind, but I’d felt something move behind me.

I spun, the Sae’kes flashing upward to rest just below the chin of the person who had been following me. If I hadn’t pulled in my aura, it likely would have split her in half.

She didn’t so much as twitch in response. “Keras Selyrian, Wielder of Dawnbringer. I’d say you’re a hard man to find, but the truth is, it wasn’t even the slightest challenge. Your mask isn’t very useful if you don’t wear it.”

I kept my sword in place, ready for any sudden moves on her part. “I wasn’t trying to avoid you. In fact, I left you a note. What took you so long?”

“Busy, busy. You’re not the only interesting person on this island, you know.” The lips underneath her raven-feathered mask twitched into a smile. “I finally found some time, though, since you asked so nicely. On my way here, I was considering lifting Dawnbringer off you. Light and dark would make a lovely mix, don’t you think? But you’re not even wearing it. Maybe someone beat me to it. Should I be worried about competitors edging in on my territory?”

“She wasn’t stolen. She’s just not happy with me at the moment.”

I saw Ravenshade’s mask twitch slightly, implying she’d raised an eyebrow beneath. “She’s angry at you? Really? You’re the type of swordsman that thinks of your sword as a judgmental woman?”

I was getting a little tired of holding a sword at her chin, so I lowered it, just slightly. “…You really don’t know, do you? Your sword doesn’t talk?”

“Why would…” She paused, then blinked. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“Completely serious.” I sighed. “Actually, I was hoping to talk to you about this. I haven’t had a chance to have a good chat with another wielder yet, and I’m fairly new at it.”

“The marks on your hand are pretty impressive for someone who is ‘new’ at it.” Ravenshade gave me a quizzical look. “You have the most advanced bond I’ve seen.”

I was wearing a glove, so I didn’t know how she knew about that. That was the least important thing to ask about, though. “How can you tell?”

“Please, Keras. If a little leather could get in my way, I wouldn’t be a very good thief, would I?”

That was a somewhat strange way of talking about a glove, but it also wasn’t what I was talking about. “I mean determining how advanced a mark is. I can’t tell the stage of one just by looking at it.”

“Oh, I can’t quite tell the exact level, but there are general rules.” She took a deep breath, seeming oddly flustered. “That mark advances like an attunement does. Sure, they’re not identical, but there are enough similarities to make some guesses. If you’ll stop sticking that thing in my face, I’ll show you mine.”

I took a step back, lowering my sword further, but keeping it at the ready. “Show me.”

She bent down. I tensed for a moment, worrying that she was reaching for a knife, but she just pulled up her left pant leg.

On her ankle was a single, visible glowing mark. It looked like a crescent moon.

I didn’t know if it was actually another wielder bond mark like what I had. It could have easily been an attunement, or even a dominion mark like the ones from my homeland. At the time, I had no way of telling the difference.

But I nodded to her regardless, at least giving her the impression that I believed her. Importantly, her mark was notably simpler than mine. “Fair. That’s certainly simpler than mine.”

“Yep.” She pulled her pant leg back down. “Now, I don’t usually give information out for free, so you’re going to have to ante up in exchange. You’re saying Dawnbringer talks?”

I gave her a curt nod. “I was hoping Twilight’s Edge was the same way.” I considered saying more, but as nice as it was to exchange information with another wielder, she’d literally just told me she’d been planning to steal Dawn. I didn’t know how serious she was about that — she’d come across as teasing — but I certainly didn’t trust her.

Even if she hadn’t been planning to steal Dawn, she was still a dangerous potential enemy. I hadn’t forgotten that.

“I…think I might have heard something a few times. Little more than a whisper, though. I thought I was imagining it.” Ravenshade’s jaw tightened. “That complicates things.”

“Meaning that you’re less likely to keep trying to steal Dawnbringer, now that you know she’s alive?”

“Goddess, no. Meaning the swords are ten times more valuable than I realized. A sword that can watch my back? That’s an intriguing notion.” Her hand slipped down to where Twilight’s Edge was sitting on her left hip. I tensed, but resisted the urge to strike.

She didn’t draw. She just let her hand sit there, gently running her fingers across the pommel, while she made a contemplative expression. “Huh. This is worth a ponder. How’d you get her to talk?”

“I never had any difficulty hearing her.” I shook my head. “I think someone else woke her up somehow before I got to her. I don’t know who, how, or why.”

“Curious.” She took a step closer. “If I let you touch Twilight’s Edge, would you be able to hear if it speaks?”

“Set the sword down on the ground and take a dozen steps back, then I’ll check for you.”

She snorted. “I think not. Get Dawnbringer, then maybe we can do a brief exchange. If your sword really talks, I’d like to hear what she has to say.”

“You could use that chance to flee with Dawnbringer. You’re a thief.”

Ravenshade stared at me. “Obviously. I’d be insulted if you didn’t take precautions for that. Meet me back here in three hours?”

I shook my head. “As I said, she’s angry, and I think she needs some time to cool down. But I’ll explain your proposal to her when I talk to her…say, after the next match. How can I find you?”

“Oh, dear. You don’t find me.” She took another step back, an inky well of blackness manifesting. “I’ll find you.”

I held up a hand. “Wait. Before you do the mysterious dramatic vanishing thing.”

Ravenshade paused. “Do you really have to call it that?”

“Well, yes. We’re not fighting. You could have just turned and walked away like a normal person.”

“Psh. What’s the point of phenomenal shadow powers if I don’t vanish into nothingness?”

“Hey, not complaining about your style, I just wanted to stop you from leaving so quickly.”

“I’m afraid I’m not prone to sticking around and chatting for long periods of time. That tends to make people in my business, well, dead.” She smiled. “But for a fellow wielder, I suppose I can spare another moment, if you have something interesting to say.”

“Interesting?” I shrugged. “Not really. I just wanted to ask you if you had any information about Akadi, or possibly any other servants of the Sun Eater.”

She froze, staring at me. “…You’re serious.”

“Absolutely serious.”

Ravenshade folded her arms. “When I said, ‘interesting’, I meant, ‘wait, Phantom Thief, I have a heist coming up and I need someone with your talents’. Or maybe, ‘hold on, Ravenshade, I may be a virtuous man, but I somehow find villains of the night shockingly attractive’.”

“I definitely don’t talk like that.”

She shrugged a shoulder. “But I’m saying that you could.”

“Right. Well, I’m not going to. And this is kind of a bad time for that sort of discussion.”

“Ah. Right. Woman troubles with your sword.”

I glowered at her. “You really don’t need to put it like that.”

“But I like to! And if you’d like me to put something in a different way, you could always buy me a drink…”

Now it was my turn to stare at her.

“What? Is this your first talk with a non-sword woman?”

I sighed. “Obviously not, but it’s not a good time. I’m dealing with…some personal losses.”

“Sorry to hear it. But you know what would be great for that? Drinking with a very, very dangerous woman.”

She honestly had a pretty compelling argument.

…But I had too many other things on my mind. “I think I’d like that. Not tonight, though.”

Her lips tilted upward into a crooked grin. “Fine. Be boring.”

“So, Sun Eater? Akadi?” I asked again.

She shook her head. “Heard about the scuffle back in the royal retreat and a few assassination attempts here and there, but honestly, it hasn’t been a major focus for me. Too many other threats to deal with. I’ll leave the world-ending stuff to bright-eyed heroes like yourself.”

I rolled those supposedly bright eyes. “I’m not sure ignoring the Sun Eater is in anyone’s best interests. He’s sending monsters to steal people’s bodies. Akadi is one of them.”

“No kidding?” Her lips twitched downward. “That’s a new one. Huh. Can’t let that happen. I like this body. You’d probably like it, too, if you got to know it better.”

“No promises, but we can discuss it another time.”

“Ugh. So stoic. Fine. Another time, then. Is that all you wanted to ask about?”

“For the moment, yeah. Stay safe out there.”

“Safe is boring, but I will endeavor not to get my body stolen. Thanks.” She winked at me. “Poof.”

“Poof?”

“Wait for it.”

There was a burst of smoke around her. When it cleared, she was gone.

She’d managed to make a dramatic exit after all.

***

Stop looking at me like that, Mara.

…You too, Patrick. Come on.

I’m allowed to flirt with people. I don’t know why you — and Dawn — seemed to think Reika and I were in some kind of serious relationship.

…Giving her a gauntlet? Really? That’s…I guess that’s a Valian thing, but you know I’m not Valian. I obviously didn’t mean it like that. I’m not even a noble.

…And anyway, I wasn’t just flirting with Ravenshade. I mean, yeah, that was part of it. I’ve always liked dangerous…never mind, you don’t need to hear that.

But I was honest about wanting to get more information about another wielder — and other wielders in general — without having to swing steel at them. I knew extraordinarily little about the other swords. Not only would talking to her give me more context about her own weapon, it would potentially help me improve my bond with Dawn, too.

And, given that Ravenshade was a famous thief, I suspected she’d already gathered all sort of information on the other wielders, too. Maybe I could have pried some information out of her about the wielder of Soulbrand, or even some of the other wielders I hadn’t encountered yet.

My brief chat with Ravenshade had made it clear just how much I didn’t know about the Six Sacred Swords, and I was going to need to work on fixing that.

But, much like Corin, I’ve always had a list of priorities that grows faster than my ability to resolve them.

And at that time, fixing things with Dawn was the highest priority on my list.

***

Lia caught me when I got back to the Study of Iron to talk about something I’d been waiting on for a while. She was holding the Heartlance Replica, and she handed it back to me as I walked in. “I had four different appraisers look at it. One of them gave me an absurdly low estimate, but the other three were pretty close. It’s a multi-function Sunstone-level item. It’s powered by a damaged crystal core, which is a pretty big problem. Crystal-powered items like this are relatively rare, however, compared to conventional enchanted items. That compensates for the damage to some degree.”

“What’s the verdict?” I asked.

“If someone was selling it on a counter, they could probably get somewhere between twelve hundred and sixteen hundred silver imperials for it. When we’re trying to pawn it off, though, you can’t expect that value — we don’t have a storefront. I could maybe get half that from a merchant that is feeling generous and owes me a few favors, or something like three quarters in trade, rather than coin.”

That still sounded like a lot, but I only had a cursory idea of the cost of local goods. “Trading for three quarters sounds good, if you can find something — or some things — that I need. Or, uh, we need.” I didn’t know exactly how Reika and I were going to deal with splitting the value of the replica, if at all. We’d been pretty much sharing our money completely. “Do you think you could trade it for a few smaller things?”

“Sure, that’s probably easier than a direct trade for a larger item, in fact. I can’t guarantee I can find anything you want, but as long as it’s pretty simple, it shouldn’t be a problem.”

I nodded, handing the spear back to her. “Let’s trade it in. I’ll write you a list of items in priority order.”

***

I spent the rest of the night working on a project of my own.

I’ve never had the kind of patience for crafting that Corin does. I enjoyed a bit of blacksmithing back during my Thornguard training, but I wasn’t great at it. Learning the crafting process was supposed to help me understand the structure of metal equipment to better be able to use my metal sorcery, but I generally got bored and wanted to use my sorcery to cheat and finish the product faster. That, of course, defeated the whole point of the training exercise.

Anyway, that meant that sitting around and doing a crafting project or two wasn’t my idea of a good time, but I did it anyway.

It was a small bit of penance for the mistakes I’d made.

The next morning, I did bring flowers when I visited Dawn and Reika, but not of the conventional variety.

They were wrought from steel, and rather than stems, they had blades.

That was my gift for Reika. A bouquet of knives. For Dawn, that hadn’t felt quite right. She might have appreciated the concept of flowers, but I hoped to get her something she might actually use.

So, when I knocked on the door to Reika’s room, I had the bouquet of knives in one hand, and a scabbard in the other. That scabbard was wrought from steel, then inlaid with Dawnbringer’s symbol — the same three circles on my hand — in gold, which I’d melded directly into it.

For several moments after I knocked, there was only silence.

For a moment, I went into a panic. Had Ravenshade attacked in my absence? Had Dawn been stolen?

Then I heard a groan.

“…Mmm…who is it…? It’s…too early….”

Then I remembered Reika’s sleeping habits when left to her own devices.

“It’s Keras. Can I come in?”

“…Fine. Just don’t be so loud, I’m sleepy.”

I quietly opened the door and slipped inside, finding Reika on the floor, amidst what once might have been a blanket fortress. Said fortress had proven structurally unsound, however, and now there was simply a mass of collected pillows and what looked like possibly bed parts on top of Reika.

Also, Dawnbringer was in there somewhere, still sheathed.

“Dawn says hi,” Reika said blearily. “Oh, and also that you’re mean and she’s mad at you.”

I sat down in front of the two of them, putting down my gifts and putting a hand on Reika’s head.

“Yes, pet me, good.” She groaned. “Mm…wait, no. Still angry at you. Both of us. Grr.”

“I got you things?”

She raised her head, giving me an expression that I would best describe as something of a mix between dubious and petulant. “You trying to buy your way out of this, mister?”

“I mean, not exactly, but—”

“Well, show me already. If you’re going to bribe us, it better be good.”

“These are for you. Uh, don’t cut yourself on them, they’re pretty—”

“Pretty adorable.” She snagged the bouquet out of my hands. “Look at the little knifies, Dawn? Aren’t they the cutest?” Reika turned her head to me. “Dawn would like to remind you that she, too, would like to lift and admire the cute knifies, but she does not have hands. Which is, of course, completely unfair, given that certain other sword-people do, apparently, have hands.”

I rolled my eyes. “This is for Dawn. I made it for her.”

I slid the scabbard over to her.

“Look at this, Dawn.” Reika dragged the scabbard into her blanket disaster, brushing it up against Dawnbringer’s side. “Isn’t it pretty?”

She hiccupped, and I smelled something strong in the air. Embarrassingly, it had taken me that long to notice that Rei was being a little cutesier and more distracted than usual. “…Reika, are you drunk?”

“…Whaaat? Nooo… Pfft. I’m immune, remember? And I didn’t drink that much last night. It couldn’t have been more than… I don’t know, how much is a gallon?”

I sighed. “Was that my fault?”

“Believe it or not, Keras, not everything’s about you.” She frowned. “But this time, yeah, mostly. I mean, also…Ari. Poor Ari.” She looked genuinely heartbroken when she thought about him. “So, I was drowning my sorrows and all that.”

“I’m sorry. Bribes aside, I really did want to apologize to you both. It was unfair of me to keep something that important from you.”

“Why’d you do it, anyway? I don’t get it. It’s not like it would have made us mad. Would have been easier for Dawn, if anything.”

I shook my head. “I…it was…I wasn’t ready. That thing the sage told me…that was the same day I met you. Like just a few hours earlier. I’d believed something else my entire life, and I’d been searching for answers, and what he told me…” I shook my head. “Parts of it still don’t make sense to me. I need more information, and I didn’t want to mislead either of you.”

She glanced upward, then used an arm to block the sunlight that was streaming into the room. Then, in an insightful tone, she said, “That’s not all, though, is it?”

I sighed. “You’re not wrong. Even if I knew for certain…I don’t know what I would have told you.”

“Why?”

I took a deep breath.

“For as long as I can remember, my life has been defined by what others believed my parents to be. Remember how I told you about my Thornguard training and hiding the nature of the Sae’kes from people? That wasn’t just about my sword, it was about the possibility that I was descended from the gods of another faith. So, I had to hide from them. Then, I went to Orlyn when I was older, and I got thrown in prison immediately — because maybe, just maybe, I could have been the child of a deity. And after that, I ended up with people who worshipped my possible parents.”

Reika frowned, looking more serious. “So, you hid it because you were used to hiding?”

“No. I mean, maybe that was a part of it, but…I think a bigger part is that when you and Dawn met me, you both had all these fantastical ideas of what I was supposed to be in your heads. A human hero, someone seeking the Six Sacred Swords. You didn’t define me by my parents. You didn’t care about the Sae’kes — you’d never heard of it. You cared about my goals. Sure, you still had skewed expectations about me…but honestly, I didn’t really mind that. I was glad to be a knight, or a hero, or whatever you wanted — as long as I didn’t have to be defined by parents who abandoned me before I was old enough to remember their faces.”

“I…didn’t know it was that hard for you.” Reika gave me a sad look, then her expression shifted back to neutral. “Dawn says that she understands, but she’s still angry.”

I nodded slowly. “Okay. I just hope you can forgive me.”

“Give us some time, okay? We’ll talk it over.” She frowned. “I think I need some space for a bit either way. My stomach is feeling awful for some reason, and my head is a little spinny.”

“…I could get you some water?”

She wrinkled her nose. “Fine.” She paused, then added. “Maybe tea instead?”

“I’ll go get some.”

“…Good. And Keras?”

“Yeah?”

“…Thanks for the gifts. We like them.”

***

Two days passed — the last two before our next test.

In those days, I went back to practicing with Walter and paid Lia a long-overdue visit.

“Hey. How are you holding up?”

“As well as can be expected. I…you should worry more about the others. Ari was precious to all of us, but I wasn’t as close to him as some. Certainly not like Meilin.”

“I don’t think she wants to talk to me. I’ll give it another try soon, though.”

Lia nodded. “In times like this, I find it easiest to focus on business. You have a match to come. I assume you want information?”

“Definitely. And more memory crystals, if you have them.”

“I’ve picked up a few from earlier rounds, as well as some from the Battle Royale. Is there anything in particular you’re looking for?”

My answer was immediate. “Muramasa.”

“Ah, yes. I know you’ve wanted information on him for a while. I got you something. Sorry, I’ve been meaning to get it to you, I’ve just been…”

“I understand. It’s been hard for all of us.”

“Thanks.” She gave me a weaker-than-usual smile, then went to retrieve a gem and pressed it into my hand. “I hope you find this helpful.”

I headed back to my room, eager to watch. “Dawn, do you—”

I was going to ask her if she wanted to try to view the crystal with me, since I knew she had some difficulty processing them properly, but…she wasn’t there. Of course she wasn’t there.

I shut my eyes.

Don’t think about it. Focus. You have work to do.

“View.”

I activated the crystal. My vision changed.

***

It was my first time getting a good look at Satoshi Muramasa. I thought I’d seen him before a couple times out of the corner of my eye throughout the city, but I hadn’t run into him on the battlefield yet, for better or for worse.

He was a bit shorter than I was, with clean-cut hair the color of steel. I couldn’t tell if it was dyed or some kind of unusual Artinian magic at work. His eyes were similarly colored, but with a hint of a blue sheen. He wore long, flowing white robes that were trimmed with some kind of exotic steel thread — maybe a hint that they were woven with one of those special types of protective silk like Valian dueling tunics.

He looked younger than I expected, but that might have just been because he was so immaculately shaved. He was skinny, too, but his robes suggested some degree of wiry muscle beneath his robes.

He wore some kind of necklace, but I couldn’t see it from my viewpoint.

The most important part of the image was the strangely-wrapped sword on his back. The sword was absolutely colossal, the blade’s tip only a couple inches from the ground and the hilt extending above Muramasa’s head. It was almost as wide as his back.

Most people would take one look at that and think that it was impractical to the point of uselessness, and indeed, most swords of that size are purely for display purposes. I knew that gigantic weapons like that did have a couple possible benefits, though.

Back in my Thornguard training, I knew a couple specialists who trained with weapons like that specifically for the purpose of using the colossal sword’s mass to fight gigantic monsters that treated normal sword wounds like papercuts. I’d even tried out a couple swords like that purely for fun and strength training, but I’d never had the opportunity to use one in a serious fight.

More than that, though, huge weapons had a niche benefit: a much higher capacity for enchantments. I couldn’t see that sword’s blade, but I suspected that if a seasoned fighter was using a weapon like that, there was a good chance the weapon was built to utilize the absolute maximum capacity of the metal within.

As for why I couldn’t see the blade, that was another noteworthy feature. The blade was housed in a rune-etched wooden scabbard with metal lining. The metal lining was enough to draw my attention in itself, since it was rare and generally impractical, much like the design of the sword itself. In this case, however, I knew the application immediately…because it was one of my own techniques. The edges of the metal had been sharpened, allowing the scabbard itself to be used as a weapon.

The disconcerting similarities to the Dominion Breaker didn’t end there. The titanic sword’s scabbard was absolutely covered in finger-length slivers of paper, each of which had a single inked rune on the surface.

Ofuda. I’d heard the term from Wrynn years ago — they were a means of channeling some kind of Artinian spirit art, but I didn’t know the details. In this particular case, I immediately suspected they served a function similar to my own scabbard: they were magical seals for the weapon within.

And given the sheer number of the seals, well…I was very interested to see what that cursed sword of his could manage.

…And if he got stuck going through any doorways. Having a sword that tall did have disadvantages, no matter how skilled you were.

My viewpoint for the memory was a strange one: I seemed to be looking directly at Muramasa from right near him, but I couldn’t see any hints of the body of the person I was watching through.

Some kind of direct scrying spell, then? From someone who wanted to watch Muramasa in specific? Hm. Maybe I’ll see if Lia knows how they managed this. I wouldn’t mind seeing a few other fights from a similar perspective.

Muramasa’s surroundings were familiar to me: he was in a near-featureless stone cube of a room. No doors, no windows, nothing.

The announcement that I heard a moment later confirmed my hypothesis. “Survive for ten minutes.”

It was interesting that the voice was audible, rather than telepathic: presumably the telepathic versions that I had heard during the same challenge were an echo of something the announcer was saying out loud to the audience.

Ooh.

I felt a twinge of excitement as I recognized when I’d heard and seen this setup before. This was a memory of the third tournament round — the one where I’d busted through the walls and fought my way to the Pale King. It’d be fun to see how someone else handled it.

Traps should be starting right…about…now.

His head tilted to the side, as if listening, and his expression shifted to curious. Then he casually took a step to the right just before a spike shot up beneath his feet.

A blast of lightning flashed from one of the walls. Again, he side-stepped it effortlessly, not bothering to draw his sword.

The ceiling shook and began to move downward. Muramasa ignored it entirely, instead swinging around toward where a six-armed monster was materializing behind him. His hand shot out in a blur, then went back down to his side.

The monster dissipated instantly.

I would have blinked if I could have. It took me a moment to process that the collar the creature had worn was now on the chamber floor: he’d ripped it off with his bare hand before the monster had a chance to fully form.

A javelin of ice shot out from a nearby wall. He didn’t even turn, he just opened a hand and grabbed it out of the air, then hurled it straight into a jet of flame that blasted out from another wall, neutralizing them both.

Armor next, I remembered. A floating suit of armor appeared behind him wielding a curved sword not unlike his own. Muramasa turned toward the armor, bowed slightly. The armor swung downward.

Muramasa waved a hand upward, a blur forming around it. The sword split, finger-width tears ripping through the surface of the metal.

His other hand flashed in a horizontal swipe in front of the monster’s helmet. A single, hair-thin cut appeared across the center of the helm.

Muramasa blew on it.

The helmet split in half.

The creature’s core, a single crystal, hovered in mid-air inside the space where the helmet had been. Before the suit of armor could make another movement, Muramasa’s right hand flashed out and grabbed it.

“Apologies.”

Then his fingers twitched and the core fell in shards to the ground. A heartbeat later, the entire suit of armor clattered lifelessly to the floor.

The way he’d cut through that sword…it looked almost like my own aura’s work. The way the helmet had split into pieces had been similar, too. I knew people with the Executioner attunement could form blades from their shrouds, but his techniques didn’t seem quite like that. They were too rapid, too intuitive, like every cutting motion was as easy as breathing for him.

They felt familiar.

Spears launched from the walls. Almost lazily, he stepped between them, catching one spear in each hand. Then he hurled them into two corners of the ceiling, the metal points piercing into the stone. They embedded deep, but most of their wooden shafts were still visible right below the ceiling.

There was no chance an ordinary spear could have accomplished that without magic — the shafts should have snapped. So, either the spears were enchanted, or Muramasa had managed some kind of subtle reinforcement spell that I hadn’t noticed.

Why…oh.

I processed it as I heard a crunch from above. He’s trying to stop the ceiling from lowering further.

It didn’t work. There was a grinding sound as the room shook. The spears resisted, but whatever force was pressing the stone ceiling down was too strong, even with whatever enchantments or reinforcements the spears possessed. The wooden shafts snapped and the ceiling inched down further.

Muramasa showed no sign of discomfort. He picked up one more of the spears that had been fired from the walls and repeated the process, this time sinking the spear more deeply into the stone.

Then the walls shook and the sides of the room began to press closer.

Muramasa calmly regarded the wall, side-stepped a blast of lightning seemingly without thought, then let out a low whistle.

The sword sheathed on his back twitched.

If I was watching through my own eyes, I would have leaned closer, then. Muramasa had just reached the point where I’d blasted my way out of the room early and made my way toward the Pale King’s palace. I had no idea what was coming next.

Gas erupted from tiny holes in the floor of the room. Muramasa frowned, but otherwise ignored it entirely. The walls trembled again, continuing to shift closer.

A flaming skull appeared in the middle of the room. Muramasa’s hand shot out, his fingers in a blade-like shape, then lowered back to his side. The skull’s mouth opened, as if to say something, then a line spread across its forehead. A moment later, it fell into tiny fragments and vanished.

The same technique as with the helmet? If I had my own speed of perception, perhaps I could have followed it more clearly…but my viewpoint was limited by the capabilities of whoever had formed the memory. I couldn’t see his aura properly.

I couldn’t see just how similar it was to my own.

The walls trembled.

Muramasa whistled again: this time a single short note.

The walls shot inward suddenly — and with a crack, froze in place as Muramasa’s titanic sword flipped sideways, the weapon’s tip and pommel each arresting one of the encroaching walls.

He stepped away from the weapon and I realized the sword had never been attached to his back through a conventional shoulder harness: he had some kind of circular device attached to his back, and a matching one sat on the scabbard. Something magnetic, perhaps, but I couldn’t tell from a distance.

As the floating weapon held the encroaching walls at bay, Muramasa knelt and placed a hand against the floor. A translucent field warbled into being, blocking the jets of gas. He stood just in time to make a “tsk” sound as another monster materialized behind him: a purple-skinned humanoid with vicious three-clawed hands about the size of a small child.

The unfamiliar monster leapt at him, claws dripping with some kind of liquid that I presumed to be poison.

Muramasa didn’t even turn. He clapped his hands once. A single line appeared vertically across the monster’s entire body, top-to-bottom. Then, just before the monster reached his back, it exploded apart, as if cut from a hundred angles at once.

…What?

I had no idea what I’d just seen. Had he used some kind of speed-enhancing technique to strike so rapidly that I couldn’t process it? Or had he cut only once, with some kind of effect causing the wound to explode outward?

There was a clink, almost too subtle for me to notice. The sound came from Muramasa’s sword shifting slightly inside the scabbard, the metal edges of the container tightening around it.

…Had the sword been outside of the sheath for just a moment, so briefly that I couldn’t even perceive it?

Once again, I wished I could see this with my own eyes…but even with them, I didn’t know if I could catch something moving that fast.

In that moment, I knew something with the utmost certainty:

I desperately wanted to fight this man.

The next few minutes followed the same pattern. Monsters and traps would appear. Muramasa would obliterate them with only the barest minimum of movement. His motions were practiced, effortless. Nothing that occurred in that room threatened him in the slightest.

When it was over, the walls of the room trembled slightly, then receded into the floor. Muramasa whistled once, then his titanic sword swung back into a vertical position and moved to his back. I heard a click, presumably from the scabbard attaching to his shirt. Then, as I watched, tendrils of wood extended from the scabbard and wrapped around his shirt, affixing the weapon more securely in place.

“The first stage of this test has been completed. Please choose your direction.”

Muramasa began walking forward without hesitation. Then, just as I began to wonder where he’d go next, the vision ended.

***

I cursed as my vision returned. “That’s it?” I groaned. “It was just getting to the good part!”

I rushed off to talk to Lia and waved the crystal at her. “Can you get more of these?”

“I will try. Not many people pay attention to obvious foreigners like Muramasa.” Lia shook her head. “Even that one was tough to find.”

“What about the rest of this one?”

Lia gave me an apologetic look. “There isn’t any. The observer switched to watching someone else after Muramasa left the first room.”

“Who does that? Ugh.” I exhaled a breath. “Sorry. Not your fault. Thanks. Let me know if you find any more of him, okay?”

“I will.”

“And see if you can arrange a meeting with Muramasa. I’d like to talk to him.”

Lia nodded. “I will attempt to find his contact information, but I’ll warn you that it’s unlikely that he has an address listed.”

“Understood.” I considered if I wanted to search for him myself, but I didn’t have time at the moment. I had higher priorities.

Lia waved to the crystal. “Shall I take that?”

“…Not just yet.”  I frowned, turning it over in my fingers. “I want to watch it again.”

***

I must have watched that crystal a dozen times.

As I did, I grew more and more frustrated, but also more and more certain.

Whatever those strange powers Muramasa held were…

They were the closest I had ever seen to my own.

***

Just before the next round started, I got a letter from Hannah saying that she was still dealing with security measures, but that she’d speak to me again in a few days. Given what had happened, I didn’t blame her about the delay.

Reika and I went to claim our rewards for the Battle Royale, only to find that they had been delayed due to “complications” from the attack on the Royal Retreat, too. Apparently, the vault where some of the rewards were held had been raided by someone during the attack.

I suspected a certain Phantom Thief was involved, but I didn’t get a chance to ask. Not right away, at least. She didn’t visit me again immediately.

It was probably for the best. I wasn’t in the right mental place to pick a good reward out, anyway. My failure to protect Ari was still weighing heavily on me, and Dawn and Reika being angry certainly wasn’t helping.

And then there was Meilin.

Meilin had lost her sister and her surrogate brother in a matter of days. She made it abundantly clear that she didn’t want to speak to me about it, and I recognized a certain dangerous glint in her eyes.

Given how little the others were speaking to me, I spent a little more time than usual with Walter and Fai, but talking to anyone was hard.

It was easier to throw myself into something I could do without worrying so much — like fighting.

So, I signed up for a few more of those smaller arena fights.

I didn’t get a lot out of them. Most of the serious combatants were either saving their strength or recovering from the Battle Royale.

But I did get to do one thing of importance — practice with my two shiny new magical items.

It had taken a considerable period of time, but Lia had finally managed to trade away the Heartlance replica. She’d managed to get a total of four items from my list in exchange. All four of them were weaker than the spear — they were just Carnelian-level items, but on the higher end for Carnelian stuff.

Two of them were Rings of Flame Twisting, one for Reika and one for me. We’d run into enough fire-wielding opponents that I knew preparing for them was a necessity. In spite of working together with Ishyeal and Hartigan, I needed to brace myself for the eventuality of fighting against them, and my own shaping abilities simply weren’t sufficient to reliably defend myself.

Rather than typical flame resistance items — which tended to generate a field of water mana around the wearer to disperse incoming fire attacks — these rings actually used flame mana to reshape the flames out of the way.

They weren’t quite as effective at close range as fire resistance items, but I suspected they’d be more effective against especially potent attacks than just a layer of mana would be. Perhaps more importantly, the presence of fire mana in the ring meant there was a chance that wearing it might improve my own flame shaping abilities. Now that I knew that I could seemingly acquire abilities from items, I would have been foolish not to invest in items that would give me permanent benefits.

Reika already had another fire ring — the one from defeating the Ifrit — but that one was more offensively focused, and this one was more defensive. I thought they’d complement each other pretty well.

Reika’s second item was a necklace that would create a bubble of air around her if she activated it. I assumed at first that she wanted it as a way to breathe underwater, but after some consideration, I realized it was probably more about finding a possible counter for Raizo’s cutting wind. I doubted a Carnelian-level item would be enough to stop a technique from one of the Tails of Orochi, but I had to admit that it wasn’t a bad start.

My second item was a grudging purchase that I made at both Walter and Grandmother Iron’s insistence. It was a silver pin shaped like a breastplate called an “Arcane Armor Sigil” that made my clothing tremendously resilient, almost like armor that retained the flexibility of normal clothing.

Apparently, my habit of walking around with holes all over my clothing was considered “uncivilized”.

I was assured that it wouldn’t interfere with the enchantments on my Shadeweave Tunic; it was apparently designed to work with dueling tunics, which were functionally similar.

I didn’t like the idea of spending money — or even trade credit — on defensive equipment, since I had a habit of destroying defensive spells with my aura. I agreed to the Arcane Armor Sigil because it worked more like my Body of Stone spell; it didn’t put a barrier around me, it made something tougher. I didn’t know if my aura would get in the way of that or not, but if the pin worked, it would be very worthwhile.

A few questions told me that the pin used a combination of stone and enhancement mana, so there was a decent chance it would help with my own stone shaping abilities, too.

After getting the Arcane Armor Sigil, my last form of preparation was buying some replacement healing potions for the ones that I’d used. I paid coin for them rather than points, even though points were probably more efficient. I was flush with cash, after all, and I had limited sources of point income available. I still had my eyes on some of the highest cost point prizes and wanted to save up for them as much as possible.

All in all, I felt much better prepared for the next match, except for one small issue—

Dawn and Reika were talking to me again, but things were still far from fixed. I could tell that they were conflicted, but I’d hurt them both, and not in a way that a few kind words and simple gifts could repair. It was going to take time for them to trust me again.

And so, when the day of the next round arrived, Dawn made an important choice.

That day, I was going to be fighting in the tournament alone.

CHAPTER VII – ALMOST CERTAIN DOOM

When my eyes fluttered open, I was in an unfamiliar cave with a splitting headache and no memory of how I’d gotten there.

Immediately, my hand went to the sword at my side.

Here…but changed?

The hilt of the Sae’kes was different from what I remembered, and metal had been stretched over the pommel jewel. Disguised, then.

Why…

A renewed surge of agony surged through my mind. I reached to my head, rubbing at my temples as I sat up.

Where…am I?

There were no obvious threats present, so I didn’t draw my sword. Instead, I gradually pushed myself to my feet, examining the area.

My surroundings looked like some sort of natural cavern, but with sconces on the walls to provide light. Someone else had been here, then, and recently enough to provide me with light and heat.

I checked myself for wounds. My arms had a strange ache, but I didn’t seem to have any serious current injuries. I did have some new scars, though, and I was wearing some objects I didn’t recognize.

I had a strange, curved sword tied to my back with a chain. That was unusual enough by itself, but the chain was also linked to a necklace around my neck and a circlet on my head.

Strange. Cursed, maybe?

A cursed magic item could explain my loss of memory, especially one worn on my head. I slipped the circlet off immediately, just in case, and tucked it into my belt. I did the same with the amulet. I didn’t trust magical items I didn’t recognize. Even if they were beneficial, it’d be too easy to make a mistake when trying to utilize them.

I slipped off the two rings I didn’t recognize, too. I could sense that one of them had flame essence, which made it slightly more likely I could use it safely, but the presence of familiar magic didn’t exclude other types. Strange rings could absolutely be influencing my mind.

I made an exception for my tunic. The pitch-black shirt was certainly magical, but at least it was a design I recognized. A shadeweave tunic, one of Wrynn’s signature designs. I didn’t remember getting one, but I trusted anything Wrynn made. It was possible the item was a fake, but I figured going shirtless in a strange cave was just as risky as keeping it on.

Hm.

I took a breath, thinking. My mind was gradually clearing as I woke up, but I couldn’t tell if that was because I’d removed the circlet or just due to the passage of time.

Let’s see. Strange place, no recollection of how I got here. I’m myself, but slightly…off.

I experimented for a moment, calling stone mana into my body. It came easily — more so than I’d expected.

Okay, stone still works. Let’s try this. Burn.

The flame that blasted out from my fingers was about twice the size I’d expected, and I barely felt the chill from the spell’s cost.

Whoa. Okay. Glad I didn’t do that near my hair.

Huh. Apparently, I’m better at this than I remembered. And…that’s odd. Do I have new types of essence?

I couldn’t identify them, but I could sense new sources of power swirling in my body. The strongest of the essence was powerfully concentrated in my right hand.

I slipped my glove off.

Is…that a dominion mark?

That’s…strange. Wonder what it does.

I could sense the power within it, and I suspected I could draw from that power, but it seemed…blocked, somehow. I decided not to tinker with it right away, given the risks that involved.

I groaned, rubbing at my eyes and trying to wrest anything useful from my mind.

The last thing I could remember was traveling through a forest south of Selyr. I’d been collecting magical items, and I’d picked up one of significance — the Jaden Box. Yes, that Jaden Box. I’d been planning to give it back to Wrynn in person as a gift as soon as I’d finished my current assignment.

What could have brought me from there to wherever this is…?

With my mind gradually clearing, there was one fairly obvious explanation.

Ah, this must be one of Asphodel’s dream visions. I must have met her in the forest, or she’s simply close enough that I’m seeing the vision even if we’re not together. This feels a little clearer than usual, she must have gotten stronger.

In fairness, it was a pretty reasonable guess. Whenever I slept near Asphodel, her oracular powers tended to give me — or one of the other people near us — dreams of potential futures. I’d experienced these sorts of dreams on over a dozen occasions. So, it wasn’t exactly a strange scenario, as far as I was concerned.

I felt a little better with that possible explanation in mind. If I wanted to get any use out of the dream, I’d still have to explore, but at least I felt a little less worried.

I reached to the bag at my side, digging to see if I still had the Jaden Box.

Instead, I found several items. Some were simple and familiar, like some rations, parchment, a quill, and a near-empty bottle of ink. Others I didn’t recognize, at least at first. A single orange crystal. Potion bottles. Some kind of unfamiliar silvery seal. Coins, printed with writing from a kingdom I didn’t recognize. A strange mask.

Is…that the Mask of Kishor? Resh, what is this future version of me up to?

I briefly contemplated slipping the mask on, but that was when I found a folded note in my bag. I pulled it out and unfolded it to read.

Can’t explain situation.

Collect more crystals. Escape to surface.

Use name: Keras Selyrian.

No lethal force against humans and demihumans you find here. They are real.

Monsters are illusions and constructs, use lethal force as needed.

Use the new sword.

Trust the woman with the mark like yours.

I blinked. The note was in my own handwriting.

Okay…well, that creates more questions than it answers. Either Asphodel’s dreams have gotten much more elaborate or this is something else. Hm.

I re-read the note, then tucked it away.

Trust the woman with the mark similar to my own? Thanks, presumably past me. You’re getting just as vague as those irritating sages.

I sighed. At least a couple of the other points were clearer. I didn’t trust that the writer of the note was actually me, but the point about lethal force and monsters sounded like the type of thing I’d want to know. Similarly, the instructions to use the new sword were important.

Okay, time to get to work.

I drew the new sword, getting a feel for the curved, two-handed blade. I’d fought with a lot of greatswords, but usually straight ones. I’d presumably picked this up out of opportunity, not stylistic preference. It was unfortunate that my past self didn’t leave notes about the other items. From the way the writing was scrawled, I suspect it was written very rapidly, likely with some kind of time limit.

That raised more questions, but I wasn’t going to get answers by standing around.

The cavern that surrounded me was pretty large, and I could see three passages leading in different directions.

There weren’t any clear tracks on the ground — it was solid stone — but the path leading down had a bit more moisture. Beyond that, I couldn’t see any clear indications that would lead me to take a specific route…but I could feel one.

There was an itch in my mind. Something like a flow of power that reached from that strange, unfamiliar mark on my hand toward the path furthest to the right.

I didn’t trust that in the slightest, but I did follow it.

The cavern darkened as I advanced. There were no torches on the walls here, so I backtracked just a bit and took one from the previous chamber. Sure, I could have conjured fire, but I wasn’t going to waste my essence when there were conveniently available torches.

The path continued for some time, growing narrower in places, but still easy enough to traverse without much difficulty. I’d been though far scarier caves.

Only a couple minutes later, I reached an area where the pathway transitioned from unhewn stone into a well-polished tile floor. I advanced more cautiously, still holding a torch in one hand and my unfamiliar curved sword in the other.

The pathway terminated in a wide, rectangular room. Near the entrance to the room was a sign with writing in several languages, only one of which I could understand. I didn’t read the sign immediately — my eyes went to the doors on the opposite side of the room and the two strange figures in front of them.

Each door was blocked by a tall, winged man that seemed to be constructed entirely from stone. I’d seen golems before, but these weren’t like any golems I’d seen — they moved and breathed like flesh and blood, and I had to wonder if they were actually stone, or simply creatures with a stone-like hide.

Either way, they were looking straight at me, but didn’t make any hostile movements. Perhaps seeing my hesitation, one of them gestured to the sign. “Please, read before we begin.”

I never quite took my eyes off them completely, but I trusted my sense of stone essence — which I did detect from the pair — to alert me if they made any sudden movements.

I read the sign, or the portion of it I could read, at least.

Before you lies a pair of paths, each guarded by a fearsome foe,

Challenge not the men of stone, lest ye face not weal but woe.

But harken to my words, brave soul, for hope lies in a choice,

One question you may ask, and one shall answer with its voice.

But ware thee of the lying guard, for of this pair of two,

One soul always seeks to lie, and one always speaks true.

Measure well this question, lest this become your tomb,

For one path leads to safety, the other to Uncertain Doom.

I blinked.

Wait. Uncertain Doom? Not, like, certain doom? Or at least regular doom?

I glanced back up to the two stone men. The rhyme scheme on the sign was a bit of a stretch, but given that there were multiple languages on the sign, I assumed it was probably a translation. I’d seen worse.

I briefly considered changing “lies” to “lays” on the sign, but I never could remember the right way to use them.

Anyway, the intent was clear enough. It was a riddle — or, really, a logic problem. I had only a single question to determine which guard was the honest one.

Wait, they use “lies” a couple times in there aside from just talking about the guards being dishonest. Word play, maybe? Maybe there’s more to this than just a logic problem. Hm.

How should I handle this?

I didn’t dislike riddles or logic problems, exactly. But I preferred breaking them.

And while I might have entertained the problem on its own terms in ordinary circumstances, I didn’t know what kind of situation I was in. That meant I didn’t actually trust the premise — meaning the sign itself — to be honest.

Which is a long way to saying that I decided to do things my way, like usual.

I walked toward the stone men, lowering my sword so I didn’t look hostile. I briefly checked the feeling from my hand, but it didn’t seem to pull toward either specific path. The doors were too close together for me to use that as an indication of the route I should take.

“Greetings, brave adventurer! Was the sign clear enough for you?” the guard on the left asked.

I nodded. “Yes, thank you.”

“Excellent, excellent.” The other guard clapped his hands together. “How’s your day been?”

“A little confusing to be honest, but I’m generally okay. How about—” I stopped myself before finishing the question. “Oh, you’re sneaky.”

The guard grinned. “Sorry, sorry. That was a bit of a cheap shot. So, how can we help you?”

“You seem to be capable of non-verbal communication,” I noted, making sure not to phrase it as a question.

“Of course!” Lefty — I’m just going to name them based on where they stood, for simplicity — waved a hand, smiling.

“Excellent. That simplifies things.” I turned toward Lefty, then waved at him. “Nod your head if I just waved.”

He nodded. “Oh! I see where you’re going with this.”

I turned to Righty, waving. “Please nod if I just waved at you.”

Righty shook his head. “It seems you’re pretty sneaky yourself. But the rules only require us to be honest or dishonest with our verbal answer to your one question. We don’t have to follow the same rules for waving and nodding and such.”

I pondered that. He had a real point, but one that was easily tested.

I waved again. “If what you just said was true, this should be straightforward. To prove you’re speaking honestly, nod if I just waved.”

Righty didn’t nod. “That’s not a valid test. I could be holding back on nodding just out of choice, as opposed to necessity.”

I gave him a considering look. It was tempting to ask him a verbal question to confirm if he was honest — say, just asking him if I had waved — to confirm if he was the “lying guard”. But that wouldn’t actually prove if the other guard had to tell the truth in non-verbal communication or not.

I had accidentally created a second logic problem rather than solving the first. It was almost like I was, ever-so-briefly, solving problems in the way that Corin usually does. And that was obviously unacceptable.

Any form of communication from the guards aside from the ‘one question’ is unreliable. Really, even that one question is unreliable, since I don’t trust the sign.

That means I’m just wasting time.

I got bored, took out my quill and ink, and tried to write on the sign. That didn’t work — the ink didn’t make clear enough marks on the grain of the wood — so I put the ink and quill away and conjured a tiny flame on my index finger instead.

It was surprisingly easy to control the fire to cross out portions of the text, then write new words to replace the ones I’d eliminated. Apparently, my skill at shaping flames had improved along with my power.

Ten questions you may ask, and each shall answer with its voice.

But ware not either guard, for of this pair of two,

Neither soul will lie, and both always speaks true.

I also burned out all the versions of the riddle in other languages, just in case.

“Seriously?” Righty asked. “We’re going to have to replace that sign now. And ten questions? You need like two at most to get the solution. It’s doable with one!”

I grinned. “It seemed faster than solving the riddle. And, beyond that, I don’t only want to ask about the doors. If you have to be honest with me, you’re a resource on other questions, too. So, first question.” I turned to Lefty. “Did altering the sign actually alter the rules of this challenge?”

He laughed out loud. “Our instructions were to follow the rules written on the sign, so…yeah, I suppose it did. We are going to have to get a new sign later, though.”

“Excellent.” I turned to Righty. “Just to confirm, did I just alter the sign?”

“Yes.” He let out a deep sigh. “Yes, you did. And now you have eight questions left.”

I knew that didn’t definitely confirm anything. If they weren’t actually bound to follow the rules of the sign, it was possible my first question was the only ‘valid’ one, and that the first answer I had gotten had been a lie. But based on their body language and answers up to that point, I felt reasonably confident that I was on the right track. “Originally, what would have happened if I’d kept asking questions after the first?”

“We just wouldn’t have answered,” Lefty answered. “You might have gotten more out of us from the non-verbal cues, though. You were right from the start — we were following the same rules for non-verbal communication. He was just making it needlessly difficult for you.”

Righty sighed. “Come on, I was supposed to lie! It’s part of the spirit of the challenge, you know?”

I laughed. “I don’t blame you. You did throw me through a bit of a loop there, and it worked out better this way. If I’d gone that route, I probably wouldn’t have gotten to ask about bigger things. Like, for example, who created this challenge?”

The guards both looked at me in surprise. “Uh…” They looked at each other, uncertain. “Pass?” The one on the left said. “Pass.” The one on the right agreed. “We can’t answer that.”

“Seriously? I didn’t think you could pass on a question…also, this wasn’t a question. I’m just stating my expectations.”

Lefty laughed. “We won’t count it, don’t worry. We have rules outside of just the sign.”

Hm. That complicates things.

I picked up the sign again, then wrote a new line.

The guards will not pass on questions.

“Oh, come on,” Righty fumed at me. “At least make it a rhyming couplet!”

“Not really my skill set. Hm.” I scribbled again.

Fear not any lies or mask,

For the guards will answer whatever you ask.

“That’s pretty weak.” Righty shook his head.

I dropped the sign. “Look, rhymes aren’t really my thing, okay? Now, please answer the previous question.”

Lefty sighed. “Doesn’t matter. You’ve created a conflict in our orders, but the other rules are more important than the sign.”

I groaned. “Okay. Fine. Let’s ignore that question, then. Who gave you all these rules?”

“Our Summoner,” Lefty answered.

“And that Summoner is…” I prompted.

“Phrase that as a question,” Righty replied.

“Who is your Summoner?”

“Pass.” Both guards said simultaneously.

I groaned. “Okay. Why am I here?”

“You’re taking a series of challenges. We cannot explain the reason, as it would invalidate the tests if you knew the answer.”

I nodded at that. That was a better answer, at least. “Okay.” I gestured back at the sign. “What exactly does ‘Uncertain Doom’ mean? That’s kind of…vague.”

“Pass,” they both answered.

Apparently, someone had given them some pretty clear subjects to avoid talking about. “Fine, fine. Let’s see…any advice on how to get the best results from the tests I’m taking?”

They seemed taken aback by that. “Uh…I think you’re doing fine, honestly,” Lefty said. “You’re supposed to get crystals, I think? And no, we don’t have any, or know where those are. We don’t know much about what is beyond here, except for which door is safe.”

I supposed it was about time to ask about that. I didn’t know if the ‘pass’ questions were counting toward my total or not, but I wanted to get moving. “Okay. Which door leads to ‘Uncertain Doom?”

“This one.” Lefty pointed.

“Yeah, you really don’t want to go in there,” Righty added. “Terribly, awfully dangerous. In, like, an uncertain way.”

“Got it. I’m going to get going. Thank you both for your help, and sorry about the sign. Do you want to go with me?”

The guards blinked, then looked at each other.

Righty covered his face with a hand as he burst into laughter. “You’re…really something else, you know that?”

“I do, in fact, know that.” I grinned.

“We’d like to go,” Lefty replied. “Sounds more entertaining than being stuck here. But we can’t.”

I bristled at that. “Are you bound in some way? Can I release you?”

Lefty held up his hands in a warding gesture. “Oh, no, we’re fine. I mean, we’re technically magically bound, but we agreed to it. Summoner contract, standard stuff. Don’t worry, we’ll be free after this testing process is over.”

I nodded slowly.

“I think he’s out of questions,” Righty noted.

“Honestly, I lost track a while ago,” Lefty replied.

Apparently, the rules didn’t bind them to such a degree that the number of questions were somehow magically enforced.

“Okay. Well, if you’re stuck here until I finish this, I’d better get going. Good luck. Nice to meet you both.”

They waved at me.

I walked to the doors and, of course, headed to the left one.

Lefty moved aside for me to shove them open. “Wait, hold on. You solved this. That’s…”

“The Uncertain Doom door, yeah.” I lifted my sword and rested it against my shoulder. “Where else would I possibly go?”

I bid one last farewell to the two guards, then headed down the hallway toward what I hoped would be terrible danger.

***

I followed the path for some time, until it transitioned back into a natural style of cavern. I was in good spirits as I hopped over a trip wire, ducked a swinging blade from the ceiling, and dodged a spear that hurtled down the hallway toward my chest.

I rushed down the hallway a little faster.

Jump the pit, duck the axe, catch the knife, avoid the gas…

I pushed on, finally reaching a large set of double doors. The frame was metal, so I pushed a hand against it and reshaped the knob off before kicking it open. Something told me that would be safer than touching the handle, but I couldn’t remember why.

The doors swung wide.

Inside was a huge, circular room. This one was made of perfectly smooth black stone, with a high, domed ceiling. Torches lit with blue flame were interspersed every few feet along the walls, casting the room in an eerie glow. Toward the back of the room was another set of double doors, but there was something — or rather, someone — blocking the way.

The man wore pitch-black armor that seemed to drink in the light of the chamber. One of his hands leaned heavily against the base of a colossal executioner’s axe.

This wouldn’t have been too startling on its own, but he was over ten feet tall, even without his head — which he seemed to be holding in his other hand, resting it underneath a shoulder. I couldn’t actually tell if it was a head or just a helmet, but the effect was pretty impressive regardless.

He was turned away from me as the doors swung open. Either he’d been expecting someone to enter from the other door, or he was simply that full of disdain for anyone who wanted to challenge him.

A powerful voice emanated from the helmet. “So. It seems another fool has come to face me.”

“Uncertain Doom, I presume?” I stepped inside the room. The door slammed shut behind me a moment later, but I ignored it. I wasn’t looking to escape.

The titanic armored figure turned toward me, speaking as he moved. “Perhaps I am.”

As he turned, I noticed something important — he had a massive green crystal embedded in the front of his breastplate. “Is that one of the crystals I’m supposed to collect?” I waved at him.

“Mayhap it would be, if you were to survive this place. But I fear that you are not likely to leave this room alive. Now, come closer and face me.”

I approached without reservation. When I got about ten feet away, the huge man lifted his helmet. “Now, perhaps I will see what you truly are…” Glowing red lights appeared in the helmet, like burning eyes that saw straight into my soul.

“Oh. Oh no. I believe there may have been a mistake. I, uh…” The dark suit of armor began to slowly back away. “I think I left, uh, my master in the oven.”

Then he turned and bolted at high-speed toward the door on the opposite side of the room. Guy was surprisingly spry for someone his size, but I rushed after him. “Wait, hold on, aren’t you supposed to be a terrible danger?”

The head let out an ‘eep’ as I closed in on him. “No, no. Oh, uh, that’s…definitely probably some other guy.”

“Definitely probably?”

He kept running toward the opposite door, looking more panicked. He sped up. “Master! Master, please, now might be a good time to unsummon me!”

He didn’t vanish. I kept pace with him. “Look, I’m sorry if I’m scaring you, I just have some questions. We don’t have to fight or anything.”

“Nope. Nope nope nope. I don’t think I signed up for this.” He crashed right into the gigantic door, bursting through it without even bothering to slow down. I kept chasing him.

In a burst of speed, I tumbled between his legs and stood in front of him, a flash of steel from my curved blade blocking his path.

He stumbled backward, letting out a high-pitched scream. “Mercy! I would very likely be pleased if you have mercy, great one!”

I kept my sword pointed at his chest. “The crystal. Can you give it to me without causing yourself harm?”

The twin lights in his helmet blinked. “Perhaps I could. Is…that what you believe you are here for?”

Noting something…formulaic in his way of phrasing things, I took a moment to word my answer carefully. “I believe it is.”

“Oh! I suspect I can assist you with that, yes. I think I heard something in regards to crystals for the people doing these challenges…”

“People?” I paused, then quickly added. “How many people do you think are taking these challenges?”

He paused, no longer seeming quite as alarmed. “Approximately twenty right now, I believe. But you can never be too certain about these things.”

“I think I agree with you.” I nodded.

His head let out a sigh of relief. As I suspected, he was calming down significantly now that I was communicating in a way that felt right to him. “I may be feeling a bit better now. I think I should apologize for my behavior earlier. I don’t think I’ve ever seen an aura quite as absolutely terrifying as yours before.”

I blinked. “Oh. I think I understand the problem. Here.”

I focused on my destruction aura, pulling it in as much as possible.

It was…harder than I expected. Now that I was focusing on my aura, I realized it was much, much stronger than I was used to. I’d known that I was generating some destructive essence on my own now, but this…this was on a whole different scale from what I’d remembered.

Apparently, at some point I must have started using my sword a great deal more. That’s not a good sign.

I was more than a little concerned about that, but that line of thought had to wait. Once I’d pulled in my aura as much as possible, I spoke again. “I think that should be a bit better.”

His voice emerged from the helmet again, quieter now. “It seems so. That…may be the strangest aura I’ve ever seen.”

“I don’t know what exactly it is myself. You don’t know either, do you?”

He shook his head. And by that, I mean he used his hand to turn it left and right. It was kind of funny. “Not so much, no, I only know that it seems far more terrible than the power that I, myself, wield. Now, I believe you asked about the crystal?”

“Yes, I’ve been speculating that such crystals may be my objective.”

“Hm.” The armor knelt down, setting down his headsman’s axe. “I seem to recall that my instructions were to test you in battle, but the terms were rather ambiguous. If you could best me in—”

I flickered forward, putting my sword against the crystal. “Good enough?”

The armored suit fell backward, then scrambled back a few feet. “Aaaah! You…ah, that was well-done, I think. Yes, that’s, uh…I suspect that will be sufficient.”

“I apologize, I wasn’t sure how much that would scare you.”

He nodded by way of lifting his head up and down. “You need not concern yourself with it. Now, since that may be sufficient, I conjecture that all I need to do is…” He tapped on the front of his armor in four different places around the crystal. Then, I heard a click, and the four spikes around the crystal retracted. The crystal fell away, landing on the ground. “Ah…I think I’m…fading…”

I rushed forward, grabbing the crystal and jamming it back in the slot in the armor. “Hey, don’t die on me! I didn’t think that would happen!”

“Oh, I don’t think I’m dying…thank you for the concern, however. I postulate I will just…vanish…and return to my master until he re-summons me. Please, take the crystal. I believe it belongs to you now.”

He grabbed the crystal, prying it back out of his chest, and handed it to me. “I…think this may have been fun.”

Then the suit of armor vanished, leaving only the crystal in my hand.

I tucked the crystal away in my pouch, feeling…

Uncertain.

I sighed, then stood and headed down the pathway in the direction that the armored man had been running.

***

I pressed on deeper into the cavern until I noted the air growing colder and something moist in the air.

Is that…mist?

I frowned. Mist inside a cavern like this could be a good sign — one that I was near the surface. But it also could have been something much worse, like poison gas. I didn’t smell anything that seemed overtly dangerous, but I wasn’t exactly an expert on inhaled poisons.

Wish I had my pure stone. Wonder what happened to it?

I might have turned back, but the mark on my hand was glowing just a little bit brighter now, and I could feel a pull in the direction of the tunnel. Whatever the mark was connected to was down this way and I was determined to figure out what exactly I was dealing with.

There was one other factor that kept me going — something about the mist felt familiar. I could sense a form of essence within it that I could shape, but I couldn’t pinpoint what exactly that essence was. A brief test showed that I could shape the mist away from my face, but the effort drained me more than I expected. Apparently, this was a type of sorcery I had access to, but not one that I had mastered.

I resolved to shape the essence out of me if I felt any symptoms of poisoning, then pressed forward. I considered trying to cover my mouth with a cloth, but that would have required either sheathing my sword or extinguishing my torch, and I wasn’t willing to do either.

As I pressed on, I didn’t feel any signs of poisoning. I did, however, hear a strange voice echo from the distance.

“Turn back.”

I raised an eyebrow, yelling back toward the voice. “Why? Hey, is this poison? I’d really like to know if I’m walking through poison.”

There was no immediate response. Minutes later, I reached a wide, open chamber.

The mist was much heavier there, but I could see a few things of interest. Torches lined the walls, much like in the area I’d awakened in. There were two visible paths toward the back of the chamber, although one of them looked to be partially blocked by heavy stones.

More interesting were the bodies toward the center and the sole figure standing above them.

I counted five people on the ground. A couple of them were still moving — one crawling toward the open exit and the other simply trembling near one of the walls. The other three were still, though I couldn’t tell at a distance if they were dead, unconscious, or simply choosing not to move.

The sole standing figure was a woman in traveling clothes with several peculiar features. Her hair was split between black and white, and I could see pale scales covering several portions of her exposed skin. She wore no armor, save for a pair of steel gauntlets, one of which was stained with blood. The mist seemed thickest around her, swirling in intricate patterns that served to obscure her movements.

She wore an arming sword on her hip with an elaborate guard shaped like a sunburst. It was a beautiful weapon, but the sheer size of the crossguard made it look a little unwieldy.

She turned toward me as I entered. “So, another has come to my new lair. Thou art brave to have come this far, but thy journey ends here. Turn back, lest ye meet the same fate as these other would-be heroes.”

I stepped a little closer. “So, this is your place? Would you happen to know the path to the surface? I have no quarrel with you. If you’ll point me toward the entrance, I’ll happily take these injured people out of your way and leave.”

“You…will?” She frowned at me. “Thou art not here to challenge me?”

I thought I heard a bit of disappointment in her voice.

Wait, thou? What’s with that style of speech?

I was a little startled, but her way of talking wasn’t really important. “Honestly, I have very little idea of what I’m doing here. Best I can tell, I’m supposed to gather some crystals and leave.”

Her eyes narrowed at me. “Thou dost not seek the sword, then?”

I stared at her. “I have zero idea which sword you’re talking about. I do like swords, but I have a couple pretty good ones already. Or, at least one pretty good one, and then this weird one I don’t recognize. Is this the one you mean?”

I waved the strange crescent-bladed sword at her, the chain attached to it rattling as I displayed it.

Her eyes widened. “That sword…that chain…is that an amulet on your belt? And a crown? Wait, wait, do you have the Pale Crescent Shining Alone Above All? No way!”

She rushed closer. Like, right into swinging range. I probably could have hit her easily, but she didn’t seem aggressive, just excited. “Are those real? Can I see them?” Then she took a couple steps back. “Wait. A mysterious stranger with that equipment…you’re not The Pale King, are you?!”

She switched to a defensive stance. Meanwhile, I saw a couple more of the bodies on the ground groan and slowly start to move. Crawling guy just kept on crawling toward the exit tunnel.

Good. I just need to keep her busy, then at least some of these people might escape.

I lowered my sword. “I don’t even know who that is. I’m not a king in general, though. I’m Ta—, er, Keras. Keras Selyrian.”

“Hm.” She stared at me. “Why aren’t you wearing the other regalia?”

“If you mean the crown and amulet, I was wearing them when I woke up, but I took them off. Given that my mind has been clouded and I don’t know how I got here, I figured they might be mind-affecting items or cursed.”

“Oh! Yeah, they’re like, mega cursed. Good call.”

I resisted the urge to abandon the items immediately. “And you wanted to see them?”

“I mean, from a distance. Although I could probably handle the curse. I’m pretty strong.” She gave me a grin, showing teeth that were just a little bit sharper than ordinary.

Scales…sharp teeth…she looks almost like a delaren using transformations, but without the crystal hair. Strange.

“And, just to be clear, this isn’t the sword you meant earlier?”

The strange woman shook her head. “Oh, no! I’ve gotten completely off topic. I’m so sorry. I’m never like this, you just…I can’t believe you have the Pale King’s stuff! That’s so amazing! And you don’t even know where you got it?”

I shook my head. “Nope, sorry. I just kind of woke up here.”

“Hm.” She nodded. “I see. Let me start over.” She cleared her throat, then straightened her posture. “You face now the guardian of Dawnbringer, the Sacred Sword of Light. Thou must challenge me if thou dost wish to prove thyself worthy to claim the sword.”

Hm. Maybe that’s why I’m here? Hunting for dominion marked items is what I was assigned to last, as far as I can remember. And a Sacred Sword of Light sounds like something connected to the God of Swords. That’s definitely the type of thing I should be looking for…but my note didn’t mention it.

The note was vague…but suppressed memories during a test for a sacred sword does sound like something the gods might have required.

“Okay, that makes sense. What sort of challenge?” I asked.

“To prove your courage and worth, thou must face me in battle. As you can see,” she gestured to the others without looking at them, and seemingly without noticing that one of them was now on his feet and fleeing toward the door, “a terrible fate awaits those who challenge me and fail.”

Given that most of the other people were up and moving by this point, I wasn’t particularly worried about this “terrible fate”. Even the last person who wasn’t moving didn’t seem to have any obviously lethal wounds. I was starting to suspect he was playing dead.

“Sounds good. Just to check, though, you’re okay with this? Like, being here and challenging people? You’re not being coerced?”

She blinked. “That’s…a strange question. Yes…? I mean, yes, I’m fine with being here. It’s my job.”

“But a job that you accepted willingly?”

She tilted her head to the side. “Yes. ‘Tis my sacred responsibility, passed down from guardian to guardian for generations. Why would you ask that?”

“I ran into some people earlier that were bound by some sort of magical contract, then some kind of death elemental that didn’t seem to want to be here.”

“Huh. I don’t remember having anything like that in my cave. Must have upgraded.” She rubbed at her temples, seeming confused for a moment, then blinked and seemed to refocus. “Okay. We’ve talked a lot, and I’m getting antsy. You going to fight me or not?”

“Sure, as long as it’s not to the death, I’m happy to.”

“I can’t guarantee your life. Anyone who challenges the guardian of a sacred sword must bear the risks involved. We must fight until one of us can fight no further.”

Ordinarily, I might have refused such a challenge, but the guy who was playing dead had just opened an eye and started to inch away. Most of the others had fled the room entirely. Her idea of “fighting no further” clearly wasn’t always lethal.

“Okay. Let’s do this.” I sheathed my sword.

“What are you doing?”

“You’re not drawing your own sword, so I figured—”

She laughed heavily. “Truly? You wish to challenge me without a sword? You are bolder than I gave you credit for, ‘Keras Selyrian’. But boldness and foolishness are often kin to the same. I am Dawnbringer’s guardian, not her wielder. I require no weapon. Without a blade, you stand no chance to harm one such as me.”

“We’ll see about that. Now you’re the one who is talking too much. You good to go?”

She bowed at the waist, then took a few more steps back, putting about fifteen feet of distance between us. “We may begin at your discretion, challenger.”

I returned her bow. “Let’s begin.”

***

She charged me the moment that I finished speaking.

Fast.

She blurred forward using what I recognized to be a burst of motion sorcery, then threw a punch in my direction. While her speed was extraordinary, she both telegraphed her movement and my metal sense gave me an instinctive ability to follow the position of her gauntlets.

I side-stepped her first swing easily, going for a grab on her extended arm. She pulled her arm out of range easily, then snapped a kick at my chest.

The kick was harder to follow, but I still managed it, grabbing her leg.

Normally, that would be a pretty effective counter, and I could have thrown her backward and off balance. But when she just grinned at me, I knew something was wrong.

I moved an instant too late. Her tail smashed into me, breaking my grip and hurling me backward with tremendous force. Pain shot through the arm she’d hit, but the spikes — her tail had spikes — hadn’t broken through my skin.

Fascinating.

I hadn’t even seen her tail before she’d attacked with it. Had it been hidden by the mist, or had she just formed one spontaneously?

If it was the latter, she really was like a delaren, and that meant she was extremely dangerous. Spontaneous transformations could give her any number of other weapons to fight me with.

This is going to be fun.

“Well, you actually managed to stay standing after my first attack. That’s better than the rest of these weaklings.” She turned to wave at one of the other people, only to find an empty spot on the floor. “These…weaklings?”

“Oh, yeah, they left while you were distracted.”

“They left?!” She folded her arms. “Rude! They didn’t even pay me tribute for sparing their lives!”

“Is…that normally something that happens?”

She nodded fervently. “Definitely. Remember that when you’re begging for mercy.”

I laughed. “Remind yourself of that, too.” I hurled a blast of flame in her direction. Not the hottest one I could manage, but a test.

A look of alarm crossed her face as she hopped out of the way. “Hey! You could hurt someone like—”

I jumped forward and punched her in the chest. Not my hardest, but pretty hard.

I’d say it felt like punching solid steel, but steel wasn’t anywhere near that strong. Maybe if steel had spent more time working out, it would have eventually gotten hard enough to feel like punching her.

She reacted to the impact, but only barely. She looked more surprised than hurt. Then, she raised an eyebrow at me. “That it?”

“Nah.” I smirked. “Just calibrating.”

“Calibrating?”

“When I’m fighting ordinary people, I only use a fraction of my strength to avoid breaking them in half or punching straight through them. Against you…” I gave her a measuring look, my lips curling upward. “I suppose I could use more like a quarter.”

I hit her again, this time putting my shoulder into it. I still felt serious resistance, but this time, the punch hurled her backward a few steps.

She grabbed at her ribs where I’d landed the impact, rubbing at them. “I actually felt that a little! Ooh!” She balled her gauntleted hands. “Okay, my turn again!”

She blurred forward again, but I didn’t intend to give her a “turn” at all. As she swung, I followed her movements with surprising ease, dodging a punch and then jumping over her tail and smacking her in the back with a palm.

As she spun around for another punch, I smashed her with another punch, this time in the shoulder.

This time, though, she seemed more ready for it. After a brief wince on impact, she grabbed my arm before I could pull it back.

“Got you!” she proclaimed.

I knew what was coming next — the tail again.

Body of Stone.

Strength surged through me, far more than I remembered the technique ever supplying before.

When the spiked tail hit me, I barely felt it. I reached forward with my other arm, attempting to pull free from her grip.

For a moment, we struggled there, shifting positions to try to pin each other’s arms. I buried a knee in her chest, but aside from a grunt, she barely reacted.

When her tail struck again, it didn’t hit like before — it grabbed my leg and tripped me, sending me tumbling to the floor. I maintained my grip on her arms as I fell. I hit the ground, but not hard enough to deal any damage. She landed on top of me, using her tail to try to pin my legs.

We struggled on the ground. I managed an elbow into her ribs, but it barely accomplished anything. She smashed her forehead into my face, and I barely managed to move my nose out of the way. I ended up with a bruised cheek, but no real damage.

She was strong. Implausibly strong. Even with Body of Stone active, I didn’t have much of a strength advantage on her.

That small advantage was just enough for me to shift my arms, grab her wrists, and roll until I was the one on top. She snapped her jaws at me, but I managed to pull my neck out of the way just in time.

I pushed her arms above her head and tried to pin them down. Her tail slipped free, smashing me in the back, but I barely felt it.

Still dangerous. Need to break her quickly.

I concentrated on the metal in her gauntlets. I sensed some kind of essence in one of them, but not of a type I could shape.

That was fine. I only needed to alter the metal.

Separate.

The gauntlets fell into pieces. I didn’t split them into too many — I simply had each gauntlet split down the middle, so they’d fall right off. They’d be easier to repair later that way if needed.

“My glovies!” She gasped as the gauntlets fell away, ripping one hand out of my grip with sudden strength and slamming it into me. I fell back, and for a moment, we were disentangled.

She reached for the broken metal bits and then froze. My eyes traced the curve of her neck, processing the lack of defensive scales just below the chin.

She’s distracted. One quick cut and it’ll be over.

That was when I saw it — the same thing that she’d noticed. She had glowing marks on the backs of both of her hands. One of them was near-identical to the one I’d discovered on my own.

Trust the woman with the mark like yours.

My fingers paused an inch away from the hilt of the Sae’kes. I hadn’t even realized that I’d been about to draw it.

What was I doing?

I frowned, surprised at my own instincts, and moved my hand away from the sword. It was…surprisingly difficult.

My opponent didn’t seem to realize how close I’d been to striking her. She was entirely focused on something new. “D…Dawn?” She stared at her left hand. “W…what? That’s…No. I wouldn’t. I couldn’t have…”

“You’re having memory issues, too, aren’t you?” I asked.

She turned to me, still looking shocked. “I…yeah. I knew this wasn’t my cave, and that I shouldn’t have Dawn with me like this. She should be resting in her crystal, not on my hip. I knew from my note that things were going to be strange, but this…”

She lifted her hand again, staring at it.

“Hold on.” I pulled myself free from her more completely.

Since we seemed to be done fighting for the moment, I dismissed my Body of Stone.

Then, I lifted my own right hand and pulled off my glove, showing her the symbol on it.

Her eyes widened. “What? Is that…” She looked at her own symbol again, then back to mine. “That’s…so confusing!”

“You recognize them, then?”

She nodded. “Yeah. I mean, not exactly, but I know what they are. They’re marks for wielders of Dawnbringer. Yours is a little different than mine…and more complex. Which means it’s more advanced. Which means, I guess, that you’re Dawn’s wielder? But…I don’t know you. And Dawn…she won’t wake up.”

I blinked. “Wake up?”

“She’s been asleep since I woke up here.” Reika patted the hilt on her side with a look of concern. “Whatever put both of us to sleep and messed with our memories must have affected her, too.”

“Wait, her? You’re saying Dawnbringer is sentient?”

She nodded. “She is. She wasn’t always, and I’m not sure I should talk about this, but if you’re her wielder…” She frowned. “But I have her mark, too. That’s…I don’t understand it. I couldn’t. I would never…”

“Hm. Okay. She’s sapient, but asleep. Could I help you wake her up?”

“I don’t know. You believe me about her, though, don’t you? I know it’s strange to think of a sword as being sapient, but…”

I laughed. “Believe me, that’s not strange to me in the slightest. I’m already friends with a talking rock.”

“You are? That sounds amazing!” She brightened a bit. “I, uh, would really like to hear about that. But maybe later. I’m worried about Dawn.”

“I obviously am, too, now. But yes, I trust you. I have a pretty good reason to.” I reached toward my bag. She shifted defensively, looking ready to strike. “Easy. Just getting out a paper for you to read.”

“Oh.” She lowered her hands.

I retrieved the note I’d found when I’d first awakened and handed it to her.

She read the last part aloud. “Trust the woman with the mark like yours. Huh. I guess that’s me, unless there are more of us. Which is kind of a scary thought.”

“Presumably, if I knew about more than one woman with a mark like this, I would have been more specific.”

She shrugged. “Maybe, but your note is really vague. Like suspiciously vague. And mine was, too.”

She pulled out a note of her own and offered it to me.

Don’t freak out.

No murderizing anyone.

Dragon’s Damsel 4, Chapters 7 to 12.

Collect crystals. Get to the surface.

Beat up bad guys.

Take care of Dawn.

I frowned. “What’s this bit about Dragon’s Damsel?”

“Oh!” She smiled. “Dragon’s Damsel is like my favorite book series ever! That’s how I knew there was memory stuff going on and why I didn’t freak out.”

“Ah. Memories get wiped in that book?” I nodded in understanding. If we both had restrictions on what we were allowed to write for ourselves for whatever reason — like limited time or words we weren’t allowed to use — a reference to a form of media she was familiar with was a wise shortcut to giving herself information.

“Yep! Or, suppressed, anyway. And then there’s this whole thing where Valmyrian is trapped in the mysterious Forgotten Forest with their worst enemy, Sir Vicious Malbad!”

“Sir…Vicious Malbad.” My tone was deadpan.

“Yep! He’s the actual worst. Except, like, during that one thing in the forest! You see, Valmyrian and Sir Malbad don’t recognize each other because of the magic of the forest. But they both feel a deep desire to rescue Elaina, the princess they are both in love with, and they set off to find her together! While journeying to save the princess, they even share one night of passion…”

“…Exactly what sort of book is this?”

“The best kind! It’s an action-romance!” She smiled. “And obviously, in this scenario, I’m Valmyrian. That makes you—”

“Don’t say it.”

“—Sir Vicious Malbad!”

I shuddered. “Okay. I’m willing to accept that you had a clever idea by writing yourself a note about the book, but let us never speak of this again.”

She gave me a pouty face. “But it’s my favorite series.”

I sighed. “You can talk about the books all you want as long as you never call me that knight’s name again.”

“Deal!” She stuck out her right hand. I shook it in the way of my homeland, clasping it at the wrist. “Oh, and aside from being Valmyrian, I’m Reika, by the way.”

“Reika. Pleasure to meet you. I’m Keras.”

“You told me, but it’s still a weird name and I probably won’t remember it. Anyway, since we’re obviously fated to be together here, we need to work together to rescue the princess and find our way out.”

I frowned at her. “You sure you’re not taking the book thing a little too directly? Maybe you were just talking about the whole memory loss forest thing?”

“No, seven through twelve cover their whole bonding, mating, and princess rescuing arc.”

“Matin—never mind. Just…okay. Who is this princess analogue supposed to be, then? I don’t exactly know any princesses, but if we’re…oh.” I waved at the sword. “How princessy is she?”

The scaled woman’s eyes widened. “Oh! So princessy. Incredibly princessy. Yeah, and we’ve both got the marks. Bound by fate. Gotta be her.”

“Okay, good. That simplifies things. We already have her. How do we rescue her, exactly? Just…get her to the surface?”

“Hm…well, in the mating chapters…”

“Wait. Mating chapters? Like…there’s more than one entire chapter dedicated to the subject of mating?”

She looked at me like I’d said something absolutely absurd. “Of course! How else would we get detailed descriptions of all their special moves? How else could there be enough tension about who was going to win?”

“Special…moves?” I gave her an appraising look. “Okay, what do you mean by that? You mean, like martial arts, or magic, or…wait, no. We’re getting distracted. Forget I asked.”

“Oh, it’s no trouble!” She beamed at me. “I’d be happy to tell you more later!”

I kind of did want to ask later — purely for scholarly reasons, mind you — but we needed to focus. “…Thanks? Can we back up? What happened in those chapters aside from the special moves?”

“…Oh, right! They discovered that Elaina was under an awful, terrible curse. The Curse of Sleeping for a Really Long Time!”

I quirked a brow. “Not, like, eternal sleep?”

“Oh, no.” Reika laughed. “That would be ridiculous. But it would have made her sleep for like a month and a half, maybe two months, if they hadn’t cured her.”

“Okay. And you think that your sword friend is under some analogous curse, as opposed to just being really tired?”

Reika nodded fervently. “That would follow the story. She does sleep on her own, but I figure a fight normally would have woken her up.”

“Hm. Okay. Who cursed her, and how was it lifted in the book?”

Reika gave me an excited look. “Well, in the book, it was the evil wizard Vagroth Hexspell that cursed her. And the only way to wake her is with the spark of her true love’s kiss!”

“Wait. Why would kissing someone break a curse? That seems completely unintuitive. I mean, I suppose curses can have built in conditions under which they’re lifted, that’s pretty common. But you’d expect that to be something the wizard wanted to happen…was he some kind of creepy voyeur or something?”

“Well, he was always watching them with that crystal ball…” Her eyes widened. “Oh. This explains so much. I am seeing this whole story in a completely different way now. A strange, creepy way, but a new way nonetheless! Thank you, Keras!”

“You’re…welcome?”

She grinned. “So, on with the kissing!”

I blinked. “Wait, what?”

“You’re apparently her wielder, so clearly you must be in love with her.” Reika stepped forward, unbuckling her belt and lifting the sword toward me. “Make out away!”

“Ah-hah, no.” I took a step back. “I have, so far as I recall, never met this sword. Person. And even if I had, kissing someone without their permission isn’t romantic. It’s creepy. Like, supremely creepy.”

“Aww, come on. Everyone likes kissing!”

I shook my head at her. “As a point of fact, no, everyone does not like kissing. And, more importantly, not everyone likes kissing every individual person. Wielder or not — and I’m still not sure I believe this wielder thing — I have no idea if I’m on those types of terms with her. Given that she’s a sword, I sincerely doubt we have that kind of relationship.”

“But how else are we going to wake her from the Curse of Sleeping for a Really Long Time?” Reika looked at me with pleading eyes.

They failed. “I mean, if you think she wouldn’t mind, you could kiss her. I’d normally feel obligated to stop any sort of kissing without consent, but if you know her personally and it’s to lift a curse, I’d leave that up to your judgment. But I’m not doing it.”

“You couldn’t even kiss her on the top of the head or something innocent like that?”

“…Does she even have a head? She’s a sword.”

“I mean, she has a pommel.” Reika patted the top of the sword.

I sighed. “I noticed you’re not doing it. Which means, on some level, you also find it weird.”

“Well, yeah, but she’s like…my sister, basically. It’s different.”

I rolled my eyes and reached out with a hand. “Let me try to wake her up another way.”

Reika frowned. “You’re not going to hurt her, are you?”

“Obviously not. She’s a sword. I’m going to draw her. If anything should ‘wake up’ a sword, it’s being drawn. Or, you can draw her, if you don’t want me to.”

She hastily pushed Dawn toward me. “No, no, it’d be totally inappropriate for me to draw her. I honestly shouldn’t even be holding her like this. I’m her guardian, but I’m not allowed to use her.”

I accepted the sword. “I feel like that’s very arbitrary, but okay. Let’s give this a try.”

I drew Dawn from her sheath.

There was a brilliant flash of light as her blade escaped from the scabbard, accompanied by a melodic sound in my mind.

<Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!>

I very nearly dropped her. Fortunately, I’d been somewhat prepared for a sword that talked, so I managed to just recoil and fumble her hilt a little instead.

<Aaah. Ahem. Sorry. Wait, hold on…am…am I dreaming? Are…are you a person?>

“Studies on both of those subjects have been inconclusive. Hello, though. You can call me Keras.”

<A person! A real person! You’re holding me! And…I’m not in a rock! I mean, I guess we’re both kind of in a rock? Is that a cavern above us? Is this Reika’s cave? Is that Reika there?>

“May want to slow down a bit,” I offered.

“Oh! Is she awake? Is she talking?” Reika asked.

I nodded to her, then waved a hand in a ‘hold on’ gesture, which Reika acknowledged.

<Sorry, sorry. Just excited and…uh, wait, hold on. Let me back up. *Ahem*. Great hero, you have proven your strength, bravery…I can never remember this last one…insight? Yeah, that was it. Insight! To earn the chance to wield me, the beautiful and impossibly powerful Sacred Sword of Light. By the amulets you wear, you have…hold on. I’m not seeing any amulets, Keras.>

“Are there supposed to be amulets?” I frowned.

Reika clapped her hands together. “Oh! The amulets. Yeah, there are definitely amulets. Three amulets. You’re supposed to get those before you get Dawn.”

<You…don’t have the amulets?>

I reached down to my belt. “I have…an amulet? And a hat?”

“That’s a crown, Keras. And she’s not talking about the Pale King’s regalia.”

<Wait, hold on. Hold. On. Is that the Pale Crescent? Are you the Pale King? Did I get drawn by the Pale King? Aaaaah!>

“Stop screaming, I’m not the Pale King!”

Reika laughed. “You’re definitely not. He’s, like, way more calm and collected than you are. Also he definitely would have kissed her.”

<Kissed? Hold on, kissing? Are we like…a thing? Have I tragically forgotten our epic tale of romance? Am I pregnant? Are we going to have sword babies?>

“I think those would technically be classified as daggers.”

<No, sword babies! Like, tiny swords!>

“Those are just daggers.”

Reika looked at me confusedly. I gestured. “Here, put your hand on her hilt. Maybe you’ll be able to hear her, too.”

“I…don’t know if that would be appropriate.”

I shrugged. “Suit yourself, but I feel like this is a dangerous enough situation that we could break a few rules.”

“But not kissing-related ones.” Reika gave me a hard look.

“No, not consent-related ones. Anyway, I woke her up without it, didn’t I?”

<Why would kissing wake…oh! The Curse of Sleeping for a Really Long Time! Was I under that?>

“You…actually know that reference?”

<Of course! It’s from one of Rei’s favorite books. And you didn’t kiss me to wake me up? What kind of knight are you?>

“The kind that doesn’t kiss unconscious people that I don’t recognize?”

<…Okay, that’s actually surprisingly fair. You’re not as awful as I expected, Sir Vicious Malbad.>

“That is definitely not my name. Please stop calling me that.”

<Fine, fine. You’re no fun.>

I took a deep breath. “Okay. So, we’ve woken Dawn up. I think we need to get moving. Should I, uh, hold onto her for now?”

“Uh, yeah. You’re her wielder. I’m certainly not doing it.” Reika folded her arms.

“I mean, you have a wielder mark, too, don’t you?” I waved Dawn toward the mark on Reika’s hand. “Doesn’t that mean you’re also—”

“That is, uh, definitely a mistake. There must have been some kind of magical malfunction or, uh, something.”

<Wait, wait, what? Rei is my wielder?! Hold on, show me those hand marks more closely!>

“Do I just…like, wave your blade at things so you can see them?”

<No, no, silly. I’m looking through your eyes, just look at them.>

I looked at Dawn briefly, then raised my hand so she could see it. “That’s…kind of weird. I didn’t realize you were borrowing my senses.”

<They’re our senses now. Get used to it. And yeah, that’s definitely my wielder mark. I can feel my mana flowing through it, but it feels…blocked, somehow? Like one of us put up some kind of mechanism to slow the flow. That’s weird.>

Now that she was mentioning it, I felt something like that, too. “Ah. I think I probably know the reason for that. I have some essence in my body that’s extremely destructive, probably due to another sword in my possession. We probably put that block in place as a safety mechanism to avoid the essence hurting you.”

<That kind of makes sense, although I’m like super magic resistant, so it probably wouldn’t hurt me. Hm. Maybe you’re just over-cautious?>

“No one has ever accused me of caution before, but I suppose when it comes to that particular aura…yeah, I’m pretty worried about that. Better to keep the block in place for the moment, until we get our memories back.”

<Memories back? Ah, yes, the Forgetful Forest. Is that what we’re dealing with?>

“Something analogous to it, or so Reika seems to think.”

We spent another minute or two catching Dawn up on the situation. I attached Dawn’s scabbard to my belt, handed the belt itself back to Reika, and kept Dawn drawn. Wearing three swords on my belt at the same time just seemed excessive, and Dawn functioned as a light source, meaning I didn’t have to bother picking my hurled torch back up.

Next, I went to Reika’s gauntlets and quickly reshaped them.

She gasped. “You fixed my glovies!”

I handed them back to her. “Metal sorcery is one of my specialties. I mostly use it to enhance my swordplay, but I have other tricks like this. Try them on to see if they still fit properly, I can fix them if needed.”

She slipped them on. “Good as new! Thanks.”

“Can I ask what that mark on your other hand was?” I gestured to the now-covered right hand, which had a different glyph from her left.

“No idea! Apparently, we’ve been up to some strange adventures.”

I nodded. “Okay. Maybe we’ll find out if we can get to the surface. We’ve spent enough time chatting. Let’s get out of here.”

CHAPTER VIII – A SAGA OF ROMANCE

Reika had already explored a little bit of the surrounding area, so we avoided the passages she’d already checked. We avoided the route I’d already taken, too.

That left one passage out of the cave, but it seemed to gradually lead downward, rather than up.

Might be in here a while.

<Is that a problem? Is there a time limit?>

I’m not actually sure, but even if there isn’t, we’re going to need to find our way out relatively quickly. I’ve got a bit of water and some dry rations, but that won’t last long.

<Ah, yes. It’s easy to forget that humans need food. I only require praise for my unfathomable power and exquisite beauty.>

You’re very pretty, Dawn.

<Yes, feed me. Good.>

I kept walking, my lips turned upward in a smile. In spite of her absurdity, Dawn’s antics made the whole experience of delving into the cavern feel a little less lonely. Reika’s presence was helpful, too. Comfortable. Almost familiar.

Before I could think about that feeling of familiarity too much, we reached the next chamber.

This one was clearly carved out by humanoid hands, rather than a natural cavern. It was, so far as I could tell, perfectly spherical — meaning even the bottom of the room was curved downward. That bottom section of the room was filled with water, with a narrow bridge of ice leading to a door on the other side.

On the left and right sides of the room, I could see some suspicious-looking pipes. I also sensed metal in the ground near the entrance, but I couldn’t see anything. My experience told me that there was probably a hidden door that would shoot up the moment that we entered the room, sealing the entrance to the chamber shut.

I relayed my suspicions to Reika.

“Ooh! A trap room. Okay. So, you think we step in, it fills with water, and…what, the ice bridge collapses while we walk across?”

“Sounds about right.” I tried to glance up at the ceiling, but it was hard to get a good look without actually ducking my head into the doorway. I didn’t want to risk a proximity-based trap going off, so I avoided that. I thought I could see a couple more pipes, though. “If we’re really unlucky, it fills with something other than water. I think I see some glowing marks on the roof, too…runes, maybe?”

“Can you read them?”

I shook my head. “Don’t recognize them. I’ve never been a rune expert.”

“Let me see…not a lot I can recognize, either. Think that one up there is ice?” She pointed at something, but I couldn’t even make it out.

“That’s probably controlling the bridge…or, I guess if we’re really unlucky, it freezes the rest of the water if we fall in.”

Reika gasped. “Oh, that’s mean. Okay. Don’t want to get wet, then.”

“Not in there, at least. Hm. I could build a stone bridge across the ice one before we walk in, since the bridge is likely to collapse. Then we could rush across and bust through the door.”

“I like it, but I think I have a faster way.” Reika stepped back, stretched…and wings burst from her back.

I gawked. “You’re transforming just for this?”

“Why wouldn’t I? I mean, I kind of ruined this shirt, but that’s replaceable.”

“Isn’t that like…a big decision?”

She blinked at me. “Why would it be?”

“It’s not permanent?”

She raised a hand over her mouth to cover a laugh. “Of course not! Where’d you get that idea?”

“Hm. The only creatures I’m familiar with that can do what you can are delaren, and their transformations aren’t reversible.”

“Delaren…you mean the ancestors? I haven’t heard of them since I was a little girl. No, my transformations don’t work like that. Here.” Her wings vanished in a burst of mist, then reappeared a moment later. “Huh. That’s even easier than I remembered. I must have practiced.”

“That’s…very impressive. But it only gets you across.”

“Pfft, no way. Come on. I’ll carry you.”

I gave her a concerned look. “I know you’re strong enough to carry me, I’ve felt how hard you can hit me. But I’m carrying a bunch of stuff,  it’s going to be awkward.”

“Eh, we’ll figure it out. Might have to put Dawn away for a sec, though.”

I nodded, sheathing Dawn.

<Aww. Don’t keep me in here too long. I think I’m feeling a Curse of Terrible Tiredness coming on.>

I rolled my eyes. “Okay, now what?”

“Now, make like a damsel and climb into my arms!”

I sighed and, with great hesitation, wrapped my arms around Reika’s neck while she picked me up.

“Okay, off we go!”

Reika surged into the room in a burst of sudden movement. She didn’t really fly so much as blast herself forward with a single beat of her wings. Either way, we didn’t touch the ground until we hit the opposite side of the room.

It didn’t matter.

As I expected, a door shot up to seal the entrance as soon as we entered. What I didn’t expect was what happened when we hit the ice bridge in front of the door—

Or, rather, the illusion that looked like an ice bridge.

Reika’s feet splashed as she landed on what we mistook for solid ground. We were sinking in an instant, and then flailing.

That was when the actual ice began to appear.

<Aaah! Don’t let me get wet! I’ll rust!>

I ignored Dawn, pulling free from Reika in the water and hoping she could swim. We both swam to the top quickly, which was good, because the water was freezing rapidly. In a matter of seconds, we’d be frozen in place.

I grabbed onto the stone wall near the door. In an instant of concentration, I reshaped it to make hand-holds and began to pull myself out of the water.

The water continued to freeze around me, so rapidly that I didn’t know if I’d pull myself out entirely in time. I sent a blast of flame mana outward, heating and evaporating a small portion of the water around me. With that water gone, I pulled myself out, entirely, up next to the door. Then, with a swing of my hand, I hurled a blast of flame at the rune on the ceiling that Reika had pointed to earlier.

There was a flash as fire met ice. The rune faded and died.

The room’s temperature stabilized, but the water around Reika was already almost completely frozen.

I was pondering if I’d have to melt the whole pool to get her out when she vanished, momentarily replaced by mist. Then she reappeared several feet higher, outside the pool, in mid-air.

With a beat of her wings, she surged toward the door and smashed right through it.

I waited while Reika shoved the remains of the door open, then climbed inside and shivered.

Reika shivered right along with me. “That…wasn’t fair.”

“Places like this rarely are. I should have tested the bridge before we landed on it. That was a rookie mistake.” Noting that Reika seemed to be shivering even more heavily than I was, I conjured a flame and began to evaporate the water from the two of us. The cost of flame sorcery would take a toll on my body heat, but my body handled that cost better than I remembered. Within a couple minutes, we were mostly dry, and I was only somewhat freezing.

“Th…thanks.” Reika hugged me. She was warm. Unconsciously, I pulled her a little closer.

That felt more than a little familiar, too.

I held her there for a moment, still shivering, until finally we pulled away from each other. “Come on,” she said. “Walking should help us warm up, and I want to punch whoever made that trap.”

I gestured for her to lead the way, then drew Dawn as we continued down the path. While we walked, I conjured just a tiny flame, using it to carefully clear the water off the surface of Dawn’s blade.

<Thanks. I don’t know if I actually can rust, for what it’s worth, but I’d rather not find out.>

Agreed. We’ll be cautious.

Minutes passed. The pathway ahead led to a split, with one route leading upward and another further down.

I turned to Reika. “Our instructions say to head toward the surface, but that’s after getting gems. I’ve only picked up one, plus the one I started with. You?”

“I started with one, too, and got five more from the people that challenged me.”

I pondered that. “What color did you start with?”

“Orange. They’re all orange, aren’t they?”

I shook my head. “No. I started with orange, too, but I got a green one from a monster.”

“That’s…interesting. Hm. If they follow attunement levels, green is more valuable than orange.”

I didn’t know what she was talking about, but I didn’t want to reveal that right away. “Well, that’d be good for me, but I can’t be confident about it. Do you want to head downward and search for more crystals before we head upward?”

“Sure! More adventure!” She smiled, then headed toward the downward path.

As we traveled downward, the air grew warmer and dryer. We continued for a minute or so until I sensed the presence of flame essence ahead. The tunnel grew narrower until we had to walk single-file, with Reika insisting on taking the lead. I gave Reika a quick warning about the presence of flame essence, but we pressed on.

“Maybe it’s a fire monster!”

It wasn’t a fire monster. No, it was a solid wall of flame that blocked off the entrance to the next chamber, which contained several fire monsters.

I couldn’t get a good look at them, given the wall of fire in the way, but that didn’t stop me from sensing the movement within — and the incoming attack.

“Look out!” I yelled. I grabbed for Reika’s arm, but she was already moving it, swinging to punch straight into the flame. The flames dissipated on contact with her hand. “Huh. Did not know I could do that.”

She looked at her fist appraisingly, but a second blast of fire shot right past her and exploded against the wall next to her head. She jumped back, startled, and I pushed past her. I could sense a buildup of more fire mana within the room, an attack of much larger magnitude than the last pair.

I ran straight toward it.

As a much larger jet of flame shot through the doorway, I reshaped it to the side, sending it to disperse harmlessly against the nearest wall. Then I focused and rushed straight through the wall of fire, extinguishing the fire wall as I passed through it.

I found myself inside a circular room with a floor covered in runes, one of which I’d already managed to step on. I jumped backward as spikes shot up from the floor, my metal sense warning me even before I heard the telltale movement in the ground.

Then I was desperately parrying swings from my first opponent — a creature with the upper half of a scaled human man and the bottom half of a snake. He was swinging at me with four curved swords, one held in each of his arms.

He wasn’t as quick or skilled as I was, but four arms was a pretty substantial advantage. I deflected each strike, but only barely, and that gave me little room to watch for the five other creatures that turned toward me the moment I charged in.

As four more swords crested toward my back, Reika slammed into the second of the snake creatures, smashing my second attacker out of the way. Then she hurled herself directly into the path of a hail of arrows from three of the others. I felt only a moment of alarm before the arrows impacted and splintered harmlessly against her body. I’d known she was tough, but that was pretty impressive.

Unfortunately, that left one last attacker — the one that was hurling fire. And that, from Reika’s widening eyes as the serpent cast a colossal globe of flame in her direction, was not something she could simply intercept on my behalf.

From the size and speed of the fireball, I could see that it was going to hit her before she could get out of the way. Unfortunately, it was too strong for me to shape, and too far for me to jump in the way myself.

Something passed between Dawn’s mind and my own in an instant, too fast for me to process consciously. Then I was hurling Dawn straight into that fireball, a gleaming beacon that smashed into the flaming sphere — and, somehow, blasted it right back toward the caster.

Before Dawn could even fall to the ground, I was reaching out with my mind.

Pull.

She flew back toward me, my hand wrapping around her grip just in time to parry the next swing from my four-bladed foe. I heard the explosion as the fireball consumed the creature that had hurled it, then Reika was surging forward to jump on top of the second swordsman, faster than he could react.

I turned my attention back to the first, side-stepping an arrow fired at my back and then swinging hard to dislodge a sword from my opponent’s grip. As he corrected his balance for the loss, I found a gap, jumping in and putting my sword at his throat. “Surrender, I’ll spare you.”

The snake-creature gave a hissing laugh. “There issss no need for ssssuch a thing…ssstrike me and I will ssssmply return to my ssssummoner…”

Ah, the note said something similar.

<You mean ssssssimilar?>

While I snorted at Dawn’s comment, two more arrows flew at my back. I spun, deflecting them, and then thrust my sword directly into the snake-creature’s chest before he could manage a counter-attack.

I had only a moment to wince, worrying that I’d just taken a life, before he vanished and a red crystal clattered to the ground.

I breathed a sigh of relief, turned and deflected two more arrows, and then charged the two archers.

Wait, weren’t there three archers?

I reoriented as I charged, noting that Reika was on top of one of the archers, punching him repeatedly in the face.

Ah. That makes sense.

I deflected the next set of incoming arrows with ease, then got into swinging range. The fight ended mercifully quickly after that.

Each of the snakes vanished as soon as we dealt injuries that should have been fatal. That made me feel a little better about the whole thing.

Reika is a monster, too, isn’t she? Would the same thing happen to her if she…?

<No, she’s not a summoned monster. Those are different. I mean, we’ve all got memory loss, so I guess this Reika could be a summoned copy…but I doubt it. I don’t think she’d make a contract with someone.>

Doesn’t she have a contract with you? The whole wielder thing?

<Uh, yeah, I guess. Good point. Everything is confusing now, the world is fake, and I hate it.>

Ah. Sorry. I didn’t mean to cause you alarm.

<No, it’s fine, just a minor existential crisis. As a talking sword, I get those surprisingly often, though usually for different reasons than this. I’m pretty well equipped to handle it.>

I think it’s more like I’m well equipped, since I’m wielding you.

<Ooh, smooth. Keep flattering me like that and we’ll get along wonderfully.>

I laughed, then went to help Reika pick up the crystals we found.

“Five red, one yellow. The fire user dropped the yellow one. You handled the fire, so you can keep the yellow one. It’s probably the most valuable.” Reika reached out to offer me the yellow one.

“Technically, Dawn handled the fire.” I accepted the yellow crystal regardless.

<Yes, acknowledge me. Good.>

“How’d you do that, anyway? I got a thought that it would work, but I didn’t quite process it.”

<Ah, that’s one of my abilities, Radiant Dawn. I can reflect magic. You probably had some kind of subconscious recollection of using it before.>

“That…sounds like a really powerful ability. What are the limitations?”

<Limitations? Please. I’m absurdly powerful. Why would I have those?> I heard what sounded like a yawn. <Anyway, I’m low on mana, so I’m going to take a nap.>

I didn’t bother saying that sounded like a limitation. I was mostly confident she’d phrased things that way as a joke.

Mostly.

“Shall we continue, Sir Knight?” Reika gave me a goofy grin and reached out with her arm to offer it to me.

“By your leave, m’lady.” I hooked her arm with my own.

“M’lady? What do you take me for? I’m a dragon! She’s the lady. You can call me, uh, Dame Dragon.”

I chuckled. “Dame Dragon it is. Let’s go.”

We marched on, arm-in-arm. At some point, we started skipping. Dawn giggled in my mind. In spite of her claims of sleepiness, she seemed wide awake…and, if I could read her emotions properly, I thought she was having the time of her life.

I sort of was, too.

I’d always loved adventures. An adventure where I could fight monsters that I didn’t have to worry about killing? That was almost too good to be true.

If this is a dream, it’s a good one.

<If this is a dream…I’m not sure I want to wake up.>

The heat from the wall of flame had ended, but I felt a new warmth — a pleasant one, emanating from the mark on my hand. It felt like simple, unfiltered joy.

I let myself sink into that feeling as we walked and skipped and laughed down the tunnel.

The passage continued downward until it terminated at a set of three doors; one straight in front of us, one left, one right. All three doors were solid metal, with plaques on each of them written in tiny script I couldn’t read. “Can you understand these?”

Reika leaned in closer. “They’re in Cas. An older dialect. Hm, give me a second. Let’s see…I think this one says ‘Beast’? And this one says ‘Traps’. Yeah, that’s pretty direct. The last one says, uh, ‘Hex’, I think? Or ‘Curse’ might be a better translation.”

“So…they’re all dangers, then. Flavors of dangers.”

<That rhymed!>

I grinned.

Reika shrugged. “Maybe. Curses aren’t always that dangerous. They can be pretty romantic!”

I raised an eyebrow at that. “How are curses romantic?”

“Well, I mean, you end up getting rid of them with kissing like ninety percent of the time.”

I sighed. “I’m pretty sure most actual curses don’t work like that, regardless of what Dragon’s Damsel might say on the subject.”

“Hey! I’ll have you know that Dragon’s Damsel was written by a foremost expert on magic, and based on a true story.”

I tried not to show my skepticism. I failed.

Reika gave a huff. “Well, even if you hate kissing for some reason, I want to go in the romance door.”

I rolled my eyes. “Well, if I get a vote, I’m voting beasts. Sounds like more fake monsters to fight, and I’m always up for fighting fake monsters. I’m…sincerely having a hard time thinking of anything I’d rather be doing.”

<Oh, goddess. You’re actually serious. This is…like a vacation to you.>

I didn’t bother acknowledging Dawn. She was reading my mind, anyway.

“Well, I certainly don’t mind fighting, but…” Reika gazed at what was presumably the curse door with a longing expression.

I sighed. “We can look inside each of them before we make a decision.”

“Yay!” Reika hugged me, practically bouncing on her feet as she headed to the door. “Now, just to give this a little…”

“Wait.”

Reika’s hand stopped before she reached the knob. She turned her head toward me. “What’s up?”

“I made one novice mistake already. We’re going to start checking for traps.”

“Ooh! Good call.” Reika gave me a hand gesture that I’m assuming probably symbolized approval. “Except, uh, how do we do that? You’re not, like, uh a thief or something, are you?”

“No, but I’ve picked up a few tricks over the years.”

“Oh? Like what?”

I smiled. “Observe as I demonstrate the wisdom of a veteran adventurer.”

Then I punched the door.

I left a fist-shaped imprint in the metal. More importantly, a tiny needle flew out from near the handle, clattering to the ground when it impacted on the opposite wall.

“I…guess that’s one way to check for traps.” Reika laughed. “Okay, is it safe now?”

I raised a finger to signal for her to wait, then punched the door two more times. No more needles came out. After that, I concentrated on the door, searching the metal for any additional mechanisms that seemed out of place. Honestly, I probably should have just started with that, but punching it was funnier and more satisfying.

When I didn’t find any further traps inside the door, I gave Reika approval to open it.

She swung the door wide open, faster than I would have. And, as a result, I got a great look at the gigantic mirror standing just across from us in an otherwise dark room.

No!

I charged right past Reika into the room, sheathing Dawn as I moved.

“Hey!” Reika shouted after me.

I couldn’t listen. The mirror had already taken on a soft blue glow.

Body of Iron.

The ground shattered as I leapt forward, throwing every bit of my strength into a punch. My fist ripped through the center of the mirror, blasting it into a thousand shards.

Not enough.

I stepped back, drawing a different sword. No, not the Pale Crescent. The last sword in my set, the one that only the direst of circumstances could force me to draw so readily. I lashed out into the frame of the mirror, the sword’s aura obliterating every part it touched.

I continued swinging, cutting great swaths of obliteration into the remains of the mirror and surrounding stone until something grabbed me from behind. I spun, balling my other fist, but it was only Reika.

“Hey. Slow down. What are you doing?”

I trembled, resisting my urge to continue fighting. After a moment, with great effort, I took a breath and lowered my sword. “The mirror. I need to…”

“You destroyed it, Keras. It’s gone. Very gone.”

“There are still bits of glass. I—”

She reached up with her free hand and put it to my cheek. “You’re…afraid. Why?”

“I…” My hand tightened around the Dominion Breaker’s grip.

“Put your sword down.”

I nodded. Reika stepped back as I hesitantly sheathed the Dominion Breaker.

Release Body of Iron.

“Look, if you need that thing destroyed more thoroughly, I’ll help you. But I need to know what’s wrong.”

I took a deep breath, my eyes scanning the dark. “It didn’t finish doing anything, did it?”

She shook her head. “It just glowed a little. You wrecked it pretty fast.”

I nodded. “I…Where I come from, there’s a legendary mirror. It has the power to see into the past, but some people say it’s cursed. When you look at it…”

Her eyes widened. “Oh! The World’s Memory! You think the mirror made an evil copy of you! That’s adorable!” She snorted. “Is that all you’re afraid of? Come on, it can’t be that bad.”

“Reika. I need you to help me search this place and make sure every trace of this mirror is obliterated, and that it didn’t have a chance to make a copy of me. And if you see a copy, let me know immediately, and let me handle it.”

“You really think your evil copy would be that dangerous…? Why? You seemed pretty strong, but…were you holding back that much against me?”

My expression must have given her all the answer she needed.

“Okay. Wow. Feeling a little hurt that you didn’t go all out on me, but okay. Even still, if there was a copy of you, we could just fight him together. That sounds kind of fun, actually.”

“It would not be fun.” I shook my head vehemently, my hands tightening into fists again. “I’ll explain later. Please.”

“Sure, if that’s what you need.”

I took a deep breath and stepped back. “Thank you.”

<Uh, Keras? Not to nag, but you, uh, kind of put me away. Is…there something wrong with me?>

I blinked. “No, Dawn. You’re fine. It’s just, if there’s a mirror copy of me that works the way I’m worried about, he’ll immediately try to destroy the things I care most about.”

<Meaning…me?>

“Right.”

<…Oh.>

I felt a strange surge of emotion from the sword, strong enough that some of it slipped through in spite of the wall that was blocking our connection.

Reduced as it was, I couldn’t quite tell what Dawn was feeling, but it was…complicated.

She went silent after that. I felt like she wanted to say something else, but she was deliberately keeping herself quiet.

“Is Dawn okay?” Reika gave me a concerned look.

I nodded. “She’s fine, just a little upset that I sheathed her.”

“Uh, yeah. I would be, too. You’re supposed to be partners.”

“Aren’t you the one that called her a ‘damsel’?”

Reika opened her mouth, then closed it. After a moment, she gave a considering expression. “Okay, yeah, fair. But she’s, like, a fighty damsel, you know? You don’t have to treat her like she’s made of glass. Anyway, come on. Let’s get back to work.”

I nodded.

For the next few minutes, Reika and I worked to collect the glass. I resisted the urge to obliterate it with the Dominion Breaker, as tempting as that was. Instead, when we had a pile of the remaining glass, I simply melted it with a sustained burst of flame.

It took a lot out of me, but it was better than using the Dominion Breaker again.

I shivered as I stared at the molten glass.

“…You okay?” Reika took my hand. She was warm.

“I think so. I…just couldn’t let something like that come into the world.”

“Why? We’re stronger as a pair than a copy of you would be, you know. We could handle it.”

“It’s…you saw that other sword I used, just for a moment. You saw what it could do. If I let loose, I could use that to do much, much worse. That kind of essence won’t hurt me, since I’m bonded to the sword, but anyone else…”

“I get it. If he had a copy of the sword, you think he’d be super dangerous to anyone other than you. Okay. I get that. It is a little arrogant of you, though.”

I gave her a surprised look. “How so?”

She snorted. “You really think that no one could handle you if you were fighting seriously? Please. I wasn’t fighting at full strength, either, you know. And even if I was, there’s this thing called teamwork. You could handle the sword, and I could flank him, or whatever.”

“I…suppose you’re right. I’ve never been great at teamwork. I just thought about what would happen and…well, I panicked. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. We all have things we’re afraid of. Ordinary people would run away from the danger, you know.”

I laughed. “I’ve never been anything close to normal.”

“Neither have I. And I suppose bravery is one of Dawn’s values. Next time, though, try to tell me what’s going on before you charge in?”

I exhaled a breath. “No promises. I’m kind of the charging type. But I’ll take that into consideration.”

“That’s a start, I guess.” She squeezed my hand, then let go.

A moment later, I heard something shift behind me.

My hand went right back to my sword, but it was just a single green crystal falling to the ground in the center of the room. It had appeared from seemingly nowhere.

Then, there was a rumble as a new passage opened just behind where the mirror had stood. It revealed another torch-lit tunnel.

I frowned at it.

“You don’t want to go that way, do you?”

I shook my head vehemently. “After this, I think I’m done with curses for a while.”

Reika laughed. “Okay, fair. What about the crystal?”

“You can have that. I don’t want anything to remind me of this place.”

“Fair.” Reika went and grabbed the crystal, picking it up and tucking it into her bag. Then, she took my arm and walked me out of the room, closing the door behind us. “Feel better?”

“A little. But I’ll feel best when we put this place behind us.”

“Right. Let’s move on, then. Beasts room?”

“Beasts room.” I nodded.

<…Can I come out now?>

I tilted my head down toward Dawn’s hilt.

“Yes, Dawn. Sorry.” I drew her again. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings or anything.”

<No, it’s fine. I…uh, kind of like that you care about me. That’s…new. But don’t go sheathing me all the time, okay? I can fight, too, you know.>

“I know. Special circumstances like that only.”

<Okay. We’ll talk about this more another time. Let’s get a move on.>

I nodded in agreement. “Good call.”

Reika had already moved to the other door. At my nod, she punched it. There was no needle trap this time. I did a quick check of the structure of the metal, finding no traps, and then she opened it.

Inside, the room ahead was completely empty. Or, to be more specific, there were no people or monsters inside — but there were pieces of rubble, burned sections on the walls, and even a few gouges that looked like they came from metal. There was also a tunnel on the opposite side of the room, leading down even deeper underground.

“Someone beat us here.” Reika looked disappointed for just a moment, then brightened back up. “But if they beat up the monsters, that means they’re stronger than the monsters. Maybe we can still catch up to them!”

We walked a little faster after that, but I had concerns. Reika didn’t seem to have any reservations about fighting other humans down here — she’d already beaten up several, after all — but I wasn’t really comfortable beating up random people in the middle of an unknown location filled with monsters and traps. Even if we left them alive, nothing was stopping a monster from coming by and eating them while they were incapacitated.

<You really don’t like the idea of people dying, do you?>

“Wait, did you just respond to my thoughts?”

<Uh, yeah. I’ve been doing that for a while. Also, you don’t have to keep talking out loud to me, although I suppose that might make it easier for Reika to follow our little chats.>

“I’m…not sure how comfortable I am with you reading my mind. And no, I don’t like killing people.”

Reika turned to glance back at me as she walked. “That’s pretty weird, for a swordsman.”

“I like fighting. I don’t like killing. They’re separate.”

“Well, obviously. But swords, you know, they have a way of killing people.”

“Clearly, and it’s not always avoidable. But when I can, I try to keep that sort of thing to a minimum.”

Reika shrugged. “I suppose it’s easier to get rematches that way.”

“That’s not really why, but…ah, door.”

Reika arrived at another large doorway. This was significantly more impressive, holding a wooden double-door with a metal frame and several glowing runes etched into the surface.

“Trap check!” Reika punched the door before I could say anything.

There was an explosion and, in retrospect, it was very definitely my fault.

A flash of white energy hurled Reika backward, straight into me. We crashed together onto the floor. Fortunately, that kept us from being hit by the six or seven other traps that she must have triggered by punching the heavily enchanted door.

As blasts of fire and lightning flickered above us, I had a moment to regret the inadequacies in my process of educating my fellow adventurer on the proper methods and procedures for trap finding. Then, as the javelins of ice began to rain from the ceiling, we rolled apart.

Reika shielded us both with her wings as we moved toward the doorway, wincing as each icicle impacted but suffering no real harm. Then, I pressed a hand against the metal frame around the door and concentrated.

A moment later, the doors fell off their hinges, tumbling backward into the next room.

“Down!” Reika yelled, sensing something before I did.

I hit the floor again just as a beam of light swept through the air at torso level.

As I recovered from the impact, I finally got a look at the chamber in front of us. It was about fifty feet across, cylindrical, and positively covered in similar beams of cutting light. Most of them were stationary, forming a radiant web with gaps just barely large enough to duck or crawl through.

Those were the easy ones.

In the center of the room there was a pillar that reached from floor to ceiling, covered in runes. Each rune projected another beam of light — and the pillar was spinning, meaning that those gleaming death beams emitting from it were constantly moving.

On the opposite side of the room, I could see an open path, presumably to another chamber.

But of course, that wasn’t the main objective.

A glowing green crystal was embedded in the top of the pillar, surrounded by glimmering death beams. When I looked more closely, I realized there were thin indentations in the stone pillar — handholds.

And maybe, if someone was crazy enough, there was just enough space that they could try to climb up, bit by bit, without getting bisected as the rotating pillar crossed paths with the many, many deadly light beams.

I was already on the floor, so I tried something simple.

Reshape.

I shifted a tiny portion of the ground into a stone ball, then hurled it into a beam.

The rock exploded into tiny fragments.

<That poor rock! What have you done?! You’re not some sort of rock murderer, are you?>

“Obviously not. I barely ever do things like that, but it was a necessary test.”

Reika, also still on the ground, turned to me. “What were you testing?”

“Approximately how dead we would be if one of those beams touched us.”

“Oh, yeah. Good test.” She nodded. “Except I’m probably tougher than that rock. Also, light magic resistant.”

I gave that a nod of consideration. “Great. You’ll probably be…somewhat less dead than the rock if that touches you?”

“Fair point. This looks like a dexterity room.”

“You might want to get rid of the giant wings.”

“What? No, I love these.” As soon as the next cutting beam passed over us, she was on her feet, rushing into the room. She ducked as another beam swept by, then hit the ground and started crawling toward the pillar in the center.

I sighed, waited for the beam to pass again, and then followed her.

Reika laughed as she rolled under another beam, then pushed herself upward, then jumped between two passing lights. “This is fun!”

I stared after her, disbelieving.

Even I don’t have that much of a death wish.

<I’m pretty sure you do, you just want it to come from fighting, not traps.>

“You can’t possibly have read that deeply into my mind yet.”

<Naw, you just kind of advertise it.>

I rolled my eyes, then my body, as I dodged another beam and followed Reika forward through the weave of brilliant death.

<You know, I could reflect those beams.>

I blinked. “Oh. Right. Would that shut off the traps?”

<Probably not, but it’d look really neat! And I bet it’d feel pretty cathartic.>

I sighed, continuing to follow as Reika gleefully hopped over beams and jumped between them.

She’s…this is madness.

Wait, is…this how other people look at me when I’m enjoying combat?

<Very likely. Except they’re probably not checking you out in quite the same way you’re looking at her.>

Hey, I’m not—

A beam grazed my arm.

I pulled it back, wincing at the sudden jolt of pain. I assumed that my shadeweave tunic had neutralized some of the power, since it only left a minor burn, but it still hurt quite a bit. And I didn’t want to think about how much damage it would have caused if it hadn’t hit me in a location covered by my tunic.

The hole in my tunic left a new vulnerability, at least until the tunic repaired itself. I’d need to be more careful.

We continued moving forward. We crawled, jumped, and rolled our way until we reached the center, next to the spinning pillar itself.

I grabbed the pillar and concentrated on it, immediately focusing on the area around the gem.

Release.

An electrical jolt surged into my hand. Apparently, the pillar had been protected against my sort of trickery.

I winced, shaking out my hand in the air. I might have tried again and risked trying to break through the pillar’s defensive magic, but before I had a chance, Reika was moving.

Up.

With a single beat of her wings, she soared to the top of the pillar, spinning in mid-air to avoid the cutting beams. As she reached the top, a final trap triggered.

The entire ceiling began to glow.

My eyes widened.

I rolled to my feet, drawing Dawn and preparing to try to reflect whatever attack was coming, but I never got a chance.

Reika grabbed the green crystal, wrenching it free from the pillar, and every trap in the room ceased in a single moment.

The light from the ceiling faded more slowly than the rest, but it still died right along with the others.

I breathed a sigh of relief.

<Guess you get to live another day.>

“What, you wouldn’t have saved me?”

<From that? Hahaha. No. Not a chance.>

I exhaled loudly as Reika landed next to me, handing me the crystal. “Yours.”

I blinked. “You sure?”

“Yep! You let me take the last one.” She released the crystal into my grip, and I grudgingly tucked it away. “Let’s go! I hope the next room is as fun as this one.”

It was only as we walked into the next room that I realized she’d lost about a third of the left side of her hair.

<…I won’t tell her if you won’t.>

Deal.

***

The tunnel was shorter this time, but led upward rather than downward. The door to the next chamber was already wide open, and as I approached, I could hear the sounds of combat ahead.

As I reached the doorway, I searched inside for the source of the sound. The chamber was the largest we’d seen so far, lined by dozens of armed statues along the walls. I immediately assumed they were going to attack at some point, but they weren’t the source of the noises I’d heard.

A single figure stood in the center of the room, nimbly dancing between the attacks of several monsters. He looked about my age, with just a few days of growth on his chin and blond hair. His bright red coat whipped around as he moved, lashing out with a thin-bladed sword and drawing a bleeding line on the arm of a hairy humanoid monster, which screamed and reared back.

A winged lion swept down from the skies, lashing out with rending claws, but the man leapt aside, lashing out and leaving a bleeding gash on its flank.

The swordsman laughed, jumping implausibly high to dodge a charge from a titanic stone monstrosity behind him. He flipped over in mid-air, jabbing his sword straight down into the stone creature’s head, then kicked off its back and landed next to a wolf-like monster. Before it had a chance to move, he had split it in half.

He must have seen us at that point, because he gave a little wave, then laughed and jumped straight back into the fray.

“Do you need a hand?” I called out.

“No, no, but thank you! I won’t be but a moment.”

He dodged another sweep from the winged lion, then swept around with his empty hand. A pair of glowing green blades appeared in mid-air, right in front of the creature’s wings.

I winced. The lion let out a surprisingly bird-like screech as it crashed into the blades.

The swordsman laughed again.

Was…that blade sorcery?

<Blade what now?>

Blade sorcery. You know, the Gifts of Aendaryn?

<I’m pretty sure that was just normal Shaper stuff, not a present from whoever that guy is.>

I frowned, but if Dawn didn’t know who I was talking about, I’d have to be careful. Something was clearly amiss here.

It only took a few moments for the swordsman to dispatch the remaining monsters, just as he’d claimed. Colossal blades of light rained from the sky, piercing each remaining creature, then vanishing into nothingness.

The monsters themselves vanished only a moment later.

Reika clapped. “That was wonderful.”

The swordsman turned, gave her a toothy grin, and bowed. “It is always my pleasure to give a performance, even an unexpected one.”

Reika started to walk forward, but the swordsman raised a hand in a warding gesture.

“Hold there for a moment. There are traps near the entry way. Allow me to mark the safe steps.” He waved a hand, several glyphs appearing on the ground. “Keep to that path while you walk to me, otherwise you’ll be dealing with some angry statues.”

“Oh! Thanks!” Reika moved forward on the path readily. I followed, a tad more warily. Maybe I should have instinctively trusted anyone who used what looked like the gifts of a deity that I was supposed to trust, but the color of the blades had been wrong, and Dawn had identified them as something different.

And, of course, we were all strangers wandering around in a bizarre situation. I was going to be at least a little cautious about anyone, especially someone who could defeat a group of monsters as effortlessly as he just had.

<Could you handle him?>

If that was most of what he can do…maybe. He wasn’t really putting in any effort there. I’ve fought people with skills similar to his before, but if I had to guess, he’s better at it. And, given the way he jumped…he’s got some other things going on, too.

<Ooh, sounds fun! Let’s fight him!>

Not right now, Dawn. We’re talking first.

<Aww.>

He sheathed his sword as we approached, which was a greater sign of confidence than anything thus far. “It seems I wasn’t the only one to choose this forsaken path. It’s always a pleasure to meet other risk takers. To whom do I owe the pleasure?”

“I’m Reika!” She reached for his hand, and he shook it.

“My. You have quite a grip there, Reika.” He gave her another charming smile. “But I’d expect no less from someone who made it through that last chamber. You’re other climbers, I assume?”

“Uh, probably? We’re…kind of missing some memories?”

The swordsman nodded. “Ah. I see. The same is true for me as well.” He pulled his hand away from Reika, extending it toward me.

I shook his hand. “You can call me Keras Selyrian.”

“An odd name and a very old-fashioned handshake. You’re quite an unusual pair. I do like unusual, though. I’m Alexander Theas.”

I blinked. “Theas? As in House Theas?”

“Ah, yes. Don’t be too impressed, however. I’m not some Archduke-to-be in the main line or anything.”

I laughed. “No, of course not. I’m just pleased to see a Theas at all. One of my friends is…or, uh, was a member of your family.”

Alexander gave me a curious look. “Oh? Who?”

“I’m…not sure which name I should give you, if any. He left the family some time ago, and—”

“Ah, say no more. I think I know who you mean. Good lad. Glad he has friends.” Alexander smiled, retracting his hand. “Well, it seems we’re all in this predicament together. If you’ll give me a chance to collect my winnings, perhaps we can progress as a group?”

“Sure!” Reika smiled. “I mean, uh, if it’s okay with Keras?”

“That seems wise. I’d love to ask you some questions once we get out of here.”

Alexander gave me a wink. “I’d be amenable to a bit of your questioning, so long as you’re buying the drinks.”

“Sounds fun. Let’s plan on that.” I took a step back, giving Alexander a chance to collect his crystals. I could have reached down to grab some, but I didn’t want to look like I was trying to steal anything.

There were over a dozen of them. He must have already fought several monsters before we’d arrived.

<Maybe this was the actual ‘beasts’ room, and everything else was just the path here.>

That makes a lot of sense, actually.

Alexander gave me a peculiar look after he finished collecting the crystals. “This may be an impertinent question, but…is that the actual Dawnbringer?”

I laughed. “So I’m told.”

“My, my. You’re more interesting by the moment. Well, I’m ready to go. Shall we head off?”

“Yep! I can lead if you’d like,” Reika offered, stepping in front of us.

“Hm. Wings. Shapeshifter?” Alexander asked.

“Yep!” She clapped her hands. “And I’m very, very tough.”

“If your resilience is anything like the strength of your grip, that’s an understatement. Hm. Yes, I imagine you’d make a fine front line. I’m primarily a Shaper, as I’m sure you gathered, but with a secondary attunement for melee combat. I’m perfectly capable on the front line, but given the opportunity, I would be most proficient as ranged support.”

“Sounds good. I’ll take the middle, then.” I stepped forward, resting Dawn against my shoulder.

I was well aware that I’d just put a powerful stranger at my back, but he’d shown us some trust — I felt he deserved some in exchange.

And if he decided to stab me in the back? Well, I could sense metal coming at me from behind. If his conjured swords were anything like the Gifts of Aendaryn, I could sense those, too.

He wouldn’t find it easy to catch me off guard.

We headed forward until we reached a colossal staircase. “Well, well,” Alexander mumbled. “It seems I’ve found a party just at the very end. How fitting.”

“You think this leads out?”

“Very likely.” Alexander nodded. “I assume you two have been collecting crystals as well?”

“Yep. Any idea how many we need?”

Alexander sounded exasperated. “Not the slightest. We’ll have to hope we all have enough for whatever strange task this is.”

We continued climbing for some time, saying little of substance. Finally, we reached the top of the stairwell, which held another titanic double doorway. This one was formed entirely from some kind of strange, dark green crystal.

Reika glanced at me. “Should I check for traps?”

“I…think I’ll handle this one, unless Alexander is more of an expert at that sort of thing.”

He shook his head. “By all means. I’ve mostly been walking into things.”

Reika sighed. “Same.”

I approached the door, pressing a hand against the surface. I was surprised to find that I could, in fact, sense within the material. It wasn’t ordinary stone, but somewhere in my missing memories, I must have learned to shape whatever this substance was.

After a moment of mental searching, I couldn’t find anything unusual. It seemed like an ordinary door, and not even a locked one. “I can’t detect anything. If there are traps, they’re beyond my ability to sense.”

“Very well, then. Let us proceed.” Alexander gestured toward the door.

Reika pulled on the handle. The door opened easily, leading into a room with an elevated platform in the center filled with clear blue water. The walls inside were polished white stone, with four pillars holding up the roof.

On the opposite side of the room there was a door that matched the entrance. Beyond the lit torches on the walls, I saw nothing of significance inside the room.

“A mana fountain. Excellent. This confirms much.” Alexander walked forward, bending over at the side of the fountain and sticking in a palm. I braced for his hand to suddenly burn away from acid, but he simply pulled out a perfectly healthy hand and took a drink. “Yes, that’s perfect. Let’s take a brief break here.”

We moved to the fountain. The door closed behind us, but not in a sudden and alarming way.

Alexander retrieved a waterskin from a pouch at his side, filled it from the pool, and drank greedily.

With a shrug, Reika began doing the same with her own waterskin. “Oh, this is good.”

“Isn’t it?” Alexander chuckled. “I admit, it’s been a while since I’ve had some. I’d thought I’d put my climbing days behind me…but, I suppose not, if we’re here.”

Climbing? What’s he talking about, Dawn?

<You know, climbing the spires? Obviously?>

I don’t know which spires you’re talking about.

<Dot dot dot.>

Did you just…say dot dot dot?

<It’s hard to mentally convey the feeling of trailing off in a conversation because someone said something so completely inscrutable that you don’t know how to respond. Thus, dot dot dot.>

Okay, apparently this thing is common knowledge. That’s fine. Share anyway.

<Fine, fine. Give me a minute to think about how to explain, like I would to a child.>

I tried not to sigh.

“Which one do you think it is?” Reika asked.

“Hm.” Alexander sat at the side of the fountain, furrowing his brow in thought. “The spires use memory suppression for people who are leaving a Judgment, but I’ve never heard of it happening inside. Of course, if it has happened to me before, I might just not remember it. Thus far, I’ve encountered a broad variety of monsters — there’s no clear elemental theme. The traps have been inconsistent, but largely have mental components. High up in the Serpent Spire might be plausible, given that Tenjin likes mind games, but if I had to guess…”

Reika gasped. “The Spider Spire. Could it be?”

Really going to need that context, Dawn.

<So, there are six soaring spires with a bunch of challenges in them. They change all the time, and the Spider Spire has been missing for centuries.>

That wasn’t so hard, now was it?

<No, it’s just that it’s unbelievable that you wouldn’t already know it. Have you been living in a rock for your whole life or something?>

Don’t you mean under a rock?

<I meant what I said. Or, uh, asked. Rhetorically, because even people who live inside rocks somehow manage to know more than you.>

That’s…never mind. Thank you, Dawn. That was very helpful.

<…It was? Um, uh, you’re welcome.>

Reika and Alexander had said a few things while I was distracted, but I didn’t catch them. I did hear the conclusion, though.

“If this is the Spider Spire…” Alexander glanced toward the gigantic doors to the next room. “We’d best be fully prepared.”

“Meaning?” Reika asked.

“Meaning…” Alexander closed his eyes, looking contemplative. “I really, really need to use a bathroom before we fight.”

“Oh! That’s fair. You did just drink a lot. Um, how do you, uh, usually do that in a spire? Are there like…bathrooms in some of the rooms?”

“There are, but you usually only find one every few floors. They’re more common on scenario floors than standard ones. We usually have gear for storage and sanitation…which, oddly, I don’t have. I’m packed for fighting, not for travel.”

I gestured toward the mana water. “Just fill your waterskin to clean your hands and go out to the stairway. You can conjure weapons — can you make an energy toilet or something?”

“I can…figure something out.” Alexander sighed. He filled up his waterskin, shaking his head, and then headed back out of the room. “I’ll be back in a bit.”

He shut the door behind him.

Reika stared at the door. “Huh. Really glad I don’t have to go right now.”

“Same. Maybe that’s the real challenge — escaping before the need to use the bathroom kills us.”

Reika snorted. “Wydd is truly the most devious of all visages.”

We were silent for an awkward moment.

<So…Alexander is gone. And you and Reika are alone.>

Yep.

<In a safe room, just before a terrible battle that you may not survive.>

I don’t think it’s going to be that dangerous, but hypothetically, sure.

<Isn’t there anything you might want to, I don’t know, do with Reika before then?>

I’m not seeing what you’re—oh. Come on, Dawn. I just met her.

<I mean, you probably didn’t. Given the complexity of the bond between us, you’ve probably known at least me for a while, which means you also must know Rei already.>

Okay, sure, maybe. Even if I accept that, I don’t know what our relationship would entail, though. Maybe we’re enemies.

<Right, exactly. That’s the point. You don’t know. You just know that you’re Sir Vicious Malbad, and Valmyrian is super-hot and muscly and that you’re alone. That’s where the fun comes in — you have one night of rough, unbridled passion, and then when you get your memories back, it’s tragic when you realize that you shared that deep, hard experience with someone you absolutely loathe.>

I am very definitely not Sir Vicious Malbad.

<That sounds like something Sir Vicious Malbad might say. But even if you’re not, the same principles apply.>

They…really don’t.

<Okay, but what if you just — hear me out — had one relatively normal night of passion? Like, while we’re waiting?>

Exactly how long do you think it takes someone to go to the bathroom?

<I’m honestly pretty unclear on that, but I imagine that intimate stuff doesn’t take that much longer. I mean, if he walked in on you, that would be kind of hot—>

I took off my belt and set Dawn down on the side of the pool. Her voice got notably quieter, enough that I could ignore her.

Reika frowned at me. “You’re not supposed to leave her lying around like that.”

“I…just need a moment of quiet. Do you want to hold her?”

She frowned. “I don’t think that would be appropriate, but if you’re ignoring her, maybe I should. What did you say to her?”

“That I’m not Sir Vicious Malbad and that we don’t have time to have one night of passion right now.”

“Oh!” Reika glanced down at the sword, then laughed. “That devious minx. I suppose we do have the room to ourselves…”

“For like a minute or two.”

Reika snorted. “It’s not like it would actually take a whole night. There’s no way you could keep up with me that long.”

I raised an eyebrow at her. “Is that a challenge?”

She gave me a toothy grin. “A challenge implies that you’d have any chance of success. With something like this, I’m afraid it’d be too one sided…”

I gave her a moment of consideration. “Not bad, as far as trying to bait me goes. We’ll talk about this when we’re out of here.”

“Will we, now?” Reika raised an eyebrow at me.

“We’ll discuss. I’m not accepting any challenges, implied or otherwise, until I have a better idea of what I’m actually dealing with. This whole situation is impressively suspicious.”

“You…do have a point. It’s almost like someone wanted us to be alone together. And I guess there was an implication we’re being watched.” Reika gasped. “Maybe there’s an evil wizard who just wants to watch us do…you know…”

“Have competitive and somewhat confusing sex?”

“Yes, that.” She nodded. “That sounds exactly like something Vagroth Hexspell would do.”

I sighed. “Okay. Well, I’m definitely not doing anything in front of the weird voyeur wizard. So, until Alex gets back, maybe we should just—”

The door opened and Alexander returned a moment later.

Definitely didn’t have time for anything. I was right.

“I’m feeling better. Either of you need to go?”

We shook our heads.

I belted Dawnbringer back on.

“Good.” Alexander nodded. “Then let’s go find out what we’re up against.”

***

We shoved open the doors to the next room.

The chamber ahead of us was titanic and pitch black. Not the normal kind of black that came from an area without light, but dark due to shadow sorcery or something analogous to it.

Fortunately, I had Dawnbringer drawn. Her light flooded the cavern ahead, giving us a rough idea of what we were dealing with.

The rocky floor was uneven and laced with tiny spike-like protrusions, which made for bad footing in combat. The walls were similar, but with larger and much more obvious spikes. In spite of the generally natural-looking style of the cavern, I suspected those particular features had been made deliberately through stone sorcery.

The ceiling was up so high I couldn’t see it from the entrance, even with Dawn’s light shining like a beacon.

I could, however, see our opponent. It was hard to miss, given that it was looming over most of the room, a solid thirty feet in height.

And that wasn’t nearly the creature’s full size. The monster was something like a gigantic snake, though the creature’s coiled body was thicker than a mammoth’s and covered in shield-sized scales.

I stared at it for an instant. I didn’t think I’d ever seen a monster quite that large. My instincts on the subject were clear.

I readied Dawn and prepared to charge.

“Wait!” Alexander yelled just as I stepped out the door.

“Hm?”

The titanic creature’s head snapped toward me, a forked tail flicking out of its lips for a moment. “That’s a blight worm! It’s incredibly dangerous!”

“What makes it so dangerous?”

The blight worm inhaled a deep breath.

“That!” Alexander pointed at the creature, half-panicked. “That does!”

I didn’t have any idea what that meant, so I decided stopping ‘that’ was the best solution for the moment. I broke into a run. I managed to cross the room faster than I’d expected — I really was quicker than I remembered — and slammed Dawnbringer straight into one of the creature’s titanic scales.

I’d hoped to feel something akin to stone or metal when I struck, but whatever the scales were made of, it was unfamiliar. I couldn’t reshape it.

Well, so much for instant victory.

I’d succeeded at one thing, though.

I’d made it angry.

When the monster exhaled, it exhaled straight toward me. A vast cloud of green mist filled the air, but fortunately, it was at least aiming downward — that meant my companions were comparatively safe.

I might have worried about if it would affect me, but a glimmering dome of energy appeared around me before the gas reached me.

The barrier flickered, but it was serving its purpose. Just before the barrier vanished, I braced myself.

Now. Body of Stone.

I struck the monster again, this time jamming Dawn into a crack between the scales. Her blade sunk in, but only slightly, and when I removed it the fluid coating Dawn’s blade was green rather than crimson.

<Eew! Eew!>

I ignored Dawn. I was too busy being smashed with a tail that was something like ten thousand times my mass. There was a flash of agony as my ribs threatened to buckle at the sheer force of the impact, then I was flying backward, crashing into something hard and immobile.

“Oof!”

That something was Reika. She’d caught me. “You’re heavy!” she complained.

“Sorry.” I coughed, clutching at my chest. That thing had hit me hard. Even with Body of Stone active, it still hurt. I fell to a knee, coughing again. I couldn’t even tell if the coughing was from the blow or from passing through the lingering cloud of gas in the air. Either way, I felt sick, and the gas was still spreading.

Alexander quickly raised another barrier around the two of us, then conjured a cascade of gleaming weapons around the worm. The glimmering weapons struck as one, but with even less effect than my own blows had.

“It’s a serpent. We can’t attack it head-on like that!” Alexander yelled at us. The creature inhaled again, focusing on him this time.

“It’s not technically a serpent!” Reika yelled back. “It’s more like a weaker cousin. But it’s trying its best!”

I coughed again. “Not…sure…if time…for semantics…Reika…”

The definitely-not-an-actual-serpent exhaled again, sending a cloud toward Alexander. He raised another barrier in front of him, which proved effective against the gas, but it looked like it would be less so against the gigantic stone spikes that appeared in the air right behind him.

Serpent or not, the thing wasn’t just a beast — it was a sorcerer.

The stone spikes flew toward Alexander’s back. Focused as he was on the gas and coordinating attacks with conjured weapons, he didn’t seem to sense the attack. Reika moved before I could, rushing out of the barrier around us and throwing herself behind Alexander.

Most of the spikes exploded when they hit her, save for the largest.

That one she grabbed out of the air, spinning and hurling it like a javelin straight at the worm. “I’m sorry about this!”

The spike slammed into the creature’s jaw hard enough to slam the titanic monster’s mouth shut. It let out a loud cracking noise as it staggered back.

I gawked at the level of strength necessary to manage that. Apparently, Reika had been holding back in our little sparring match more than I’d realized.

Unfortunately, that strength didn’t lend itself toward immunity to poison gas. She was standing outside of a barrier now, amidst the green cloud, and she immediately broke into a cough.

Guess it was probably the gas for me, too, then.

<Or, you know, both the gas and the crushed ribs.>

Yeah, that.

She stumbled forward, then raised an arm to gesture at the creature. “Aim…for the…glowing…weak point!”

I saw, it then. The very back of the creature’s tail was a glowing crystal. It was obscured by the obviously poisonous gas and the bulk of the creature’s body, but I could see enough of it to understand what she was pointing at.

The problem? The room was now almost entirely filled with poison gas. The barrier around me was quickly fading. And, as I watched, Alexander barely managed to jump back from a sweep of the monster’s tail — exposing him to the gas as well.

He reacted fast, raising a smaller barrier around his head, but the damage was done. He was coughing now, too. I grit my teeth, forcing myself to stand. “Is…this…gas…flammable?” I choked out.

“Probably,” Alexander managed before breaking into a cough.

“Shield the two of you.”

I conjured a ball of fire in my hand.

Alexander’s eyes widened. Then he snapped his fingers.

I didn’t get to see if he managed to do what I’d asked. A moment later, my barrier failed, and the gas flowed in.

I hurled the ball away from me as fast as possible, then focused entirely on shaping defensively.

There was a thunderous crack as the sphere hit the gas, then in an instant, the entire room was bathed in fire.

The flames never touched me.

I rushed straight through them, mentally commanding the flames aside with ease. Then I was back in close quarters with the worm as it reared up, letting out some kind of terrible vibrating cry.

The roof of the room cracked, both in response to the creature’s movements and my own explosion.

I couldn’t see through the haze in the aftermath of the detonation, but I didn’t need to. I could sense the creature’s tail as I approached and the potency of the magic within it.

Reika was right. It was an obvious weak point, like the hair of a delaren. A source of pure magical power.

I reached the crystal, raised Dawnbringer, and focused before I swung. My destructive aura reached around Dawnbringer, the cutting power molding around her blade with surprising ease.

Release Body of Stone.

Body of Iron.

Then I brought the blade down with all the force I could muster.

Not on the crystal, like I’d been instructed—

But on the near-impervious tail next to it.

Dawn’s blade sang through the air, a shockwave of annihilating power tearing straight through the tail.

The gigantic crystal fell free, still completely intact.

And, in the next moment, as the ceiling of the roof continued to shake dangerously above us…the worm vanished.

Leaving only the crystal behind.

“You…aimed for the tail.” Alexander pulled himself off the ground, coughing again. I could see the remnants of a barrier still lingering around him in the air.

“That’s awful!” Reika laughed. “The tail part next to the crystal is the strongest part of a blight worm’s body!” There was still a bit of a barrier around her, too. Apparently, Alexander had managed to shield them both in those mere moments, just as I’d hoped. “I can’t believe you cut through it. Good work, Dawn!”

<Yes, good work, me!>

Alexander gave Reika an odd look, presumably because she’d complimented a sword rather than the swordsman, but he didn’t say anything to her. Instead, he turned to me. “Might I inquire about why, aside from your obvious insanity and desire for danger, you chose to attack the strongest part instead of the obvious weak point?”

I laughed, resting my hand on top of the gigantic crystal. It was roughly spherical and almost half my height.

Release Body of Iron.

“I thought that would be clear. We were all asked to get crystals while we were in here, right?”

Alexander gawked at me. “You don’t mean…”

I sheathed Dawn, then hefted the gigantic crystal over my head. “If it’s crystals we need, I figure one that weighs about two or three tons will do the job.”

Alexander continued to stare at me in something resembling awe as we made our way toward the back of the cavern—

And the final door that stood beyond it.

Reika punched the door, dutifully checking for traps.

When we found none, she swung it open and found the cool air and the light of day awaiting us.

Together, we walked through the door.

CHAPTER IX – ODYSSEY REGAINED

The moment we stepped through the door into daylight, I felt a sense of vertigo. From the expressions of my companions, they were feeling it, too. I didn’t have a chance to ask anything — I barely managed to set down the crystal boulder before the effect hit me.

My memories returned.

***

Reika and I were sitting with a half-dozen other people in the waiting room before the round began.

We were sitting next to each other, but not too close. Not like before.

“For this round,” the attendant explained, “a large portion of your memories will be temporarily suppressed. These include the memories of the earlier portions of the round, why you are here, and approximately the last year of time.”

I stood up. “Nope. I’m out.”

The attendant gave me a nervous look, raising a hand in a gesture to wait. “Please, allow me to continue.”

I exhaled a deep breath, then sat back down. “Fine, but this sounds like a terrible idea. We’re all deadly fighters. If we run into each other in this test without any idea who the others are, someone will get hurt. It’s very likely someone will be killed.”

“You will each be allowed thirty seconds to compose a note to yourselves, which you will carry on your person. You will not be allowed to leave your initial room until you have read the note. You must write something on your note to tell yourself not to kill other humans you encounter. Thus, you will all know not to deliberately use lethal force.”

While he spoke, another arena worker passed out parchment and quills. “Don’t start writing just yet, we’ll time each of you. We will also be reading your note before we send you in. There are several specific things you are not allowed to write. You cannot say you are in the Tournament of the Sacred Sword, or that you are in a tournament in general. You cannot say that you are fighting for Diamantine, or competing in Edria, or anything else that we would deem too obvious. You cannot write the names of any other tournament participant, nor any tournament patron or Edrian noble. You cannot mention the Six Sacred Swords directly in general.”

“What can we say, then?” one of the other fighters asked. “That seems awfully restrictive.”

“You must state that your goals are to gather crystals and reach the surface. You may phrase this how you wish. You will have a much longer time limit on this round than any previous round, but you may make vague mention of a time limit if you wish, as long as you do not indicate that you are in a tournament or competition of any kind. You may also give yourself vague advice, so long as you do not include any of the prohibited elements.”

“What’s the point of all this?” someone else asked.

“The point,” the tournament worker answered, “is to see how you would all behave, just as yourselves, without the knowledge that you are competing for Diamantine. The Crown Princess wishes to see who you truly are.”

Well, she’s certainly not going to find that out. I won’t know who I truly am, either, if I’m missing a year of my memories.

This is bad. I shouldn’t do this.

“Those of you who purchased an advantage, stand up now.”

Several people stood. To my vast surprise, Reika was one of them.

I remained sitting, of course. I hadn’t bought one.

“You may write down another fighter’s name and your name and hand it to us now. We’ll ensure your start locations are close to each other, giving you a high chance to find each other early on.”

Meaning that she can write an enemy’s name down, or…

Reika wrote her name on the parchment, then my name next to it.

“Rei, I—” I turned my head up toward her.

She looked down toward me. “I’m still mad at you, but…I’d rather not be doing this without you, you know? We entered this together. We’re finishing it together. Right?”

I took a breath. “Right.”

Reika handed off her note to the attendant, then sat back down, just a little bit closer to me this time.

I gave her a weak smile. It was the best I could manage.

The attendants collected the names, then gestured toward our parchments and pens. “When I say the word ‘start’, you will have thirty seconds to write instructions to yourself. We’ll check them, then once your note is approved, you may head inside.”

Reika and I gave each other one final nod.

Then I gazed down to Dawn at her hip, sending a thought in her direction.

Stay safe in there, Dawn.

If she heard me, I can’t say. I never heard a reply.

***

When my mind cleared, we were still standing outside.

My memories had returned. The time right before the round started, as well as all the time before it that had been suppressed. I remembered my journey to Kaldwyn, meeting Reika, freeing Dawn…

…And all of the wonders and calamities in the aftermath of those fateful days.

I remembered my mistakes.

And I almost remembered something else. A fragment of something I hadn’t known I’d forgotten, even before the memory suppression from this tournament. A flash of fate and golden eyes. A lonely girl with wings of knives.

Those visions were gone in an instant. My head swam and my temples pounded with sudden sharpness.

I pushed aside the pain, rubbing at my head and pushing my eyes open.

The others were still there…but I saw them differently than I had moments before. The weight of all our experiences had returned.

Alexander Theas was a descendant of a family from Velthryn that I knew all too well. I needed to talk to him privately at some point if I could to learn what I could about Velthryn’s past and future fall.

Reika and Dawn…seeing them was harder, after the adventure we’d just shared. The joy and friendship that had come from meeting again, unburdened by the memories of our failures.

Perhaps that was why Reika had a sad expression when I met her eyes, or why I felt something conflicted from Dawn…who was still gripped tightly in my hand.

But I didn’t have a chance to talk to them about it. Not right away.

For a strange moment after I looked away, I caught my reflection in the gigantic crystal.

In that single instant, the eyes in my reflection glittered gold.

Instinctively, I blinked. By the time I’d done so, my eyes had returned to normal.

Had it just been my imagination? I couldn’t be sure. I didn’t get a lot of time to think about it right away.

A moment later, a man appeared in front of us. Instinctively, I raised Dawn to strike, but I froze when I recognized that he wore the garb of an arena worker.

“Aah, sorry!” He raised his hands defensively. “Just here to get you back to the arena. Congratulations on getting out, by the way.”

Alexander gave him a slight bow. “Thank you. It was no difficulty.”

I snorted at that. I don’t think any of us had found that last part easy, exactly. And my lungs were still burning from my brief exposure to that gas.

While I coughed, Reika spoke. “Did we pass?”

“That will be determined by your time to escape and the types of crystals that—” His eyes flicked to the gigantic boulder-sized crystal next to me. “By the great goddess, what is that?”

I managed to suppress my coughing long enough to manage an answer. “If I’m not mistaken,” I smirked, “the most valuable crystal of all.”

***

A few minutes later, after being teleported back to the arena proper by a group of arena workers, I got my response.

“That’s…not actually the type of crystal you’re supposed to collect,” a nervous-sounding arena worker explained. “I honestly have no idea how you even managed that. Isn’t that the weak point of the—”

I sighed. “Yes, yes. The blight worm.”

This is just like the golems on the top of the arena in the preliminaries. They really need to stop putting things in with crystals I’m not supposed to collect.

“I…think I’m going to have to consult my manager about what to do here. Mistress Dawn, Master Theas, if you’ll accompany me for a moment, I’ll take you to another room to get your scores. Master Selyrian, can you wait here for a moment?”

<Mistress Dawn? Rei doesn’t get to be called that! I mean, I said she could use my last name, but that’s such a good title…>

I glanced down at Dawn. She’d been in my hand when the round ended, and I hadn’t handed her back to Reika, so…

Do you want to go with her?

<I…oh. I…yeah, I guess I should.>

You don’t have to. If you want to stay with me, then—

<I’m not ready to talk about this.>

I gave her a curt nod, then turned to Reika. “Rei, before you leave, hold onto Dawn for me for a bit?”

She gave me a sad expression, then nodded. “Of course. I still have her scabbard, after all.”

Reika accepted Dawn, then headed out of the room.

“Curious.” Alexander Theas turned to me. “Handing your sword over to someone else? She must be very special.” He gave me a wink, then followed the arena worker out of the room.

I sat down to wait, resting a hand on the giant crystal. I’d told the other two that I planned to split any points earned from the crystal with them, but they’d both refused my offer.

So, I rested alone, slowly sipping at a healing potion. It felt like a bit of a waste, but my ribs still ached and the healing potion seemed to be helping with my cough, too. Healing generally didn’t do much for poison, but the arena workers had already flushed the poison from my body — I was just hurting from the aftermath.

I’d half-finished my potion and managed to make my way into boredom by the time someone arrived to meet me. Not a mere manager, no.

My guest was Crown Princess Edria Song.

She strode into the waiting room unaccompanied, her back straight and Diamantine sitting sheathed at her left hip. She wore the same heavy armor as I’d seen her in before, perfectly polished and without a single scratch.

That was a pretty good description of Edria Song in general, really. Not a single hair on her head was out of place. I had to wonder how much of that was the meticulous attention of palace servants and how much was her own dedication to a very specific image. It had to be at least a bit of both.

I stood as she entered. I didn’t bow or kneel, but I knew enough to not be sitting in a chair while a royal was standing. Respect was never my strong suit, but even I had standards, limited as they might have been.

“You have once again defied my expectations, Wielder of Dawnbringer.” There was a weight on those last words again, as if they meant even more to her than they did to the others of her nation. “You took quite a risk to earn that hunk of rock.”

She waved a hand toward the crystalline boulder, which still sat on the ground next to where I was resting.

I couldn’t quite manage my usual bravado, but I slipped her a weak smile. “What sort of swordsman would I be if I never took risks? Without a gamble here and there, I’d have a harder time improving. I’d stagnate. A fighter thrives on adversity.”

There was a twitch in her lips, but not upward like I might have hoped. “…Is that so?”

I realized my mistake a moment too late. I raised a hand. “That’s not to say that defensive fighting isn’t a valid—”

She laughed. I froze at the sound, surprised by the suddenness of it and the intensity. She laughed and laughed until she had to cover her face with her hand. “No, no.” She laughed again, and then she sighed, shaking her head. “I think you’re quite right, Keras Selyrian. Please, do not guard me from your words. I have been guarded from everything else already.”

I was silent for a moment, processing. Understanding. “They won’t let you have a real fight, will they? The emperor, your family, the royal guard—”

She went very still, her eyes closing. “They cannot stop me from fighting, regardless of what they wish.”

Her voice was quiet, nearly silent.

I wasn’t sure if I should say anything further, but I did anyway. I’ve never been much for holding back in any regard. “You’re right. But they can stop everyone else from fighting you, can’t they?”

The crown princess gave me a hard look, her jaw tight, her eyes blazing with anger. For a moment, I thought she was going to scold me for my audacity, but the words that came next were different. “An Executioner could not have cut that worm in the fashion that you did. Not straight through in an instant. Not even if you are some kind of Emerald that has been hiding his power and identity for all this time. You are something different.”

Caution, again, not one of my strengths. So, I said, “You’re right.”

She nodded, mostly to herself. “At first, I thought it was that strange weapon of yours. One of the Beast Blades, perhaps, could accomplish such a feat. But you used Dawnbringer, not your other sword. So, the power belongs to you. What is it? An Ascended Attunement? One of those artificial marks from Caelford?”

That, at least, I would not tell her.

Before I could refuse, however, she spoke again. “No. Do not tell me. I do not wish to know. Answer me only this — could you cut me, Keras Selyrian?” And, with another breath, she added, “Could you kill me?”

“I have no interest in killing you. If we were to fight in the final round, I would fight you honestly, but it is against my beliefs to take a life without reason.”

She tilted her head to the side, examining me. “But…you believe you could.”

“Hurt you? Without question. Kill you? If I wanted to, I believe I would have a chance, yes. You are among the most powerful people I have ever encountered, but yes.”

Her eyes flashed. Her lips twitched.

Upward, this time. “Good.”

Crown Princess Edria Song nodded firmly to me, then lifted a hand. The titanic crystal floated off the ground, then began to compress into a tiny ball, then it flew to Edria Song’s hand. “You will be awarded no points for this. It was not part of the tournament round’s winning criteria. You have amused me, however, and I will reward you in a different way.”

She opened her other palm, a glimmering gemstone appearing within it with a symbol I couldn’t see from a distance. She flicked her wrist toward me.

I caught the stone. “What is this?”

“A token of my esteem. You may give it to anyone in my court and they will know that you have earned my trust. Or,” she paused, “Should you want something from me, you may return it. Choose carefully.”

“I will, thank you.” I gave her a nod, tucking the token away in my pouch.

“I have high expectations of you, Wielder of Dawnbringer.” She watched me for one last moment, then turned to leave. “Do not disappoint me.”

Something in her tone left me resting my hand on the hilt of the sword at my side. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

***

With that rather foreboding encounter out of the way, I got back to waiting.

A half hour later, the attendant returned, noticeably surprised to see the giant crystal missing.

“I…ah…”

“The crown princess took it as a souvenir.”

He blinked. “Oh. That, well, uh, explains some things.”

“It wasn’t worth any points, was it?”

“No, but my manager said we could, uh, exchange it for something?”

I shook my head. “Don’t worry about it. Higher powers at work.”

“Right. Of…course. Shall I give you your final score, then?”

I nodded, only slightly nervous. “Yeah, I’d like to know if I passed.”

“Oh, yes, of course. You earned a fairly high score, even without the giant crystal. Nine-hundred and forty points.”

I gave an appreciative whistle. That was almost as much as I’d gotten from my duel with Taer’vys, and it put my total at over two thousand. Two thousand and seventy-two, to be exact. “Great. Anything else I need to know?”

“You have some rewards due for completing this round. Regrettably, due to the attacks, processing has been somewhat delayed. Please come by the reward counter in the middle of the week, we should be prepared by then.”

I nodded. “Got it. Thanks. Anything else?”

“No, I believe that is it for now. Congratulations.”

“Thank you, I appreciate it.” I stood, got my identification sigil properly updated, and took a breath.

It was time to leave.

And more importantly, it was time to talk to Dawn and Rei.

***

I knocked on the door to Reika’s room. “Hey.”

“It’s open.”

I slid the door open. Reika was lying back in her bed, which had somehow acquired far more pillows and blankets than my own. She set her book down to glance toward me, but that was the only concession. She didn’t deign to actually move.

“Can I come in?” I asked.

“Sure, I guess.” She gestured to a spot on the edge of the bed.

I closed the door behind me, then moved to sit down where she’d indicated. “We should talk about what happened in the last round.”

“Did you make it?” she asked.

“Yeah. You?”

“That’s…good. And yeah, I passed, too.” She looked away. “I don’t think we’re ready for this.”

“For…talking?”

She nodded, still looking away. “I mean, we can talk about strategy, or fighting, or whatever…but, can we maybe not talk about, uh, us?”

“We’re going to have to talk at some point, Rei.”

She sighed, pulling up her legs and hugging them. “I know. We’re just…it was nice in there, you know? It wasn’t complicated. It was an adventure.”

I smiled at her. “I enjoyed it.”

“I know. We did, too.”

I reached out toward her. “We could go have more fun, you know. I found a place to eat that I think you and Dawn might like.”

She didn’t take what I offered. “No. Not today. Not now.”

I slowly pulled my hand back. “Okay.”

“I’m sorry.” Reika tilted her head down.

“Don’t be. I’m the one who made a mistake. Take all the time you need.”

She nodded, but didn’t turn back toward me.

I left in silence. I felt the growing absence of her warmth with every step I took away from the room.

***

With Reika and Dawn still being distant, I had other things to focus on.

After I’d lost control during the fight with Akadi and nearly destroyed Dawn, I’d planned to stop using the Dominion Breaker until I understood our connection better.

…Then, during the next round of the tournament, I’d used the sword again without even thinking about it.

It was easy. Far, far too easy.

I’d hoped that without Dawn’s direct influence to give me “bravery”, perhaps my ordinary instinct to avoid using the sword might have kicked back in. That hadn’t happened.

Instead, it was the opposite: I’d used the sword’s power more readily than I could remember doing when I was younger.

Perhaps it was just a change in my personality. Or, given that the memory loss might have wiped out any personality changes, maybe the lingering annihilation essence in my body was tempting me.

Maybe I’d simply shared enough of Dawn’s power that my fears were always going to be suppressed. That was both a useful possibility and, ironically, a somewhat terrifying one.

I suspected it was a combination of all those factors, and maybe another — maybe I’d never really been all that careful in the first place.

Maybe it was just that prior to coming to Kaldwyn, I hadn’t found enough opponents that were strong enough to push my back to a wall. And now that I was fighting those opponents regularly, well, I was falling back on that power all the time just to keep up.

Every time I’d entered a serious fight since arriving on Kaldwyn, I’d ended up relying on the Sae’kes, the annihilation aura it provided, or both. There were cases where I might have survived without using that obliterating power, but looking back at my fights with Oskar, Zenkichi, and Xiaofan — and truthfully, even my battle with Reika — I didn’t think I could have won them without it.

On my home continent, using the Dominion Breaker’s power had always been a last resort. Something I’d fallen back on if I truly had no other way of resolving a fight. On Kaldwyn, it had become routine. It was a necessity in every fight of any significance.

I was simply not powerful enough to defeat this continent’s strongest opponents without it.

I’d struggled with that since arriving, and I’d made progress in increasing my general power through other means. My bond with Dawn had increased my speed and mental clarity, and it had improved my general physical abilities when the bond had grown stronger. Both my connection with her and my use of the Ring of Spell Deflection were gradually helping me develop light mana, as well as smaller amounts of other types, like spirit mana and enhancement mana.

I could have simply continued down that path, focusing entirely on training my other abilities and bonding with other items to gradually acquire new forms of power.

But even that growing strength felt woefully insufficient for the trials ahead.

Xiaofan had been a match for me. If I’d slipped just slightly, she could have ended my life in a heartbeat.

When Akadi wore Oskar’s body, he’d been even stronger—

And that still wasn’t Akadi’s true self. It was just a mere fraction of his shade, possessed with a small portion of his power.

If I hadn’t drawn that desperate power from the Dominion Breaker, I had little doubt that he would have killed me. He would, without a doubt, be orders of magnitude more powerful if I faced him in his true body.

And he, in turn, was a mere harbinger for the Sun Eater — a being that had destroyed an entire world.

What hope did I have against enemies like him?

For my entire life, I’d trained to restrain myself. To hold back the power of the Sae’kes. To fear what I might cut if I slipped, even for an instant.

Now, for the first time, I realized there was another edge to that blade.

I’d come close to death against Zenkichi and Xiaofan. That hadn’t been enough to shake me. I wasn’t afraid of losing my own life.

But against Akadi, I’d lost something greater—

Someone else.

Ari had died because I was too weak to protect him. Perhaps he had already been beyond my help when Akadi’s shade had possessed him, but…he’d saved me.

There had been a bit of the true Ari still within him, and I’d failed him, utterly and completely.

And that wasn’t even the worst of it.

I’d very nearly lost Dawn, too. Twice now — once when Taer’vys had inadvertently torn her spirit, and again when I’d lost control and threatened to destroy her myself.

In the aftermath of those experiences and the stark absence of Reika and Dawn at my side, I saw something important. Not only did my strength have consequences, but my weakness did as well.

If I kept training in the same way, fighting in the same way, sooner or later I was going to run into an opponent that was simply too powerful for me to defeat. And when that happened, I wasn’t the only one at risk.

If I was weak enough to die, I was weak enough to lose someone else that I loved. That was unacceptable.

And so, upon coming to that conclusion, I made a choice. One that would irrevocably change my life.

I failed to protect Dawn. I failed to save Ari. And now, the entire city of Velthryn is at risk.

Two years. No matter how much I train, I can’t grow strong enough to fight an army in that time. Not like this. Not as I am today.

There is no bright future awaiting me if I continue to hold back.

No more. No longer will I hide from what I am, and what I am capable of.

I will learn to master the fullness of my strength, no matter the risks.

When someone threatens those I care for…

I will shatter them with a force that will make the gods themselves tremble.

And if fate ordains that my friends must fall—

Then I will cut through fate itself.

With that resolve, I made a change.

I was ready to start a new kind of training. One that I’d neglected for far, far too long.

***

After our regular sparring, I decided it was time to talk to Walter about something I’d been hesitant to discuss with the residents of the Study of Iron. It was a necessity for finding an appropriate training method. “So…I have another type of magic I’ve been trying to avoid using.”

Walter leaned his halberd against the wall, wiping the sweat off his forehead. “Your Executioner aura?”

“Right. I mean, it’s not really an Executioner aura, but…”

He waved a hand. “I know. Not an attunement. But it’s similar, right?”

“Yeah, similar. I can do most of what they can. There’s one particular application of my aura that’s very different from anything I’ve read about Executioners, though, and I haven’t had a chance to practice it.”

“Oh? You want to go back out there for another round and give it a try? Let me eat first, then—”

I shook my head. “No, it’s too dangerous for conventional sparring. I need a more controlled location.”

He waved at the arena we’d rented. It was a huge area, empty, and designed to handle combat between high-level attuned. It was expensive to rent, but apparently Grandma Iron had some kind of arrangement for a discount. “More controlled than this?”

“Differently controlled. I need to be able to test different mana densities. We’d also need the area to be shielded. Very, very heavily shielded.”

Walter frowned. “There are places with different mana densities that are used to simulate the interior of spires. Is this magic something like a return bell that only works in high mana areas?”

“No.” I shook my head. “It’s…a mana detonation ability.”

“Mana…” He spoke slowly, feeling the idea out. “Detonation?”

I took a breath. “As I mentioned, my aura isn’t exactly the same as an Executioner’s. I don’t really even know what to call it. Annihilation is the best term I’ve come up with. The basic application is simply obliterating things, but I’ve heard of a technique that causes sources of mana to combust. This can make a chain reaction if there is other mana nearby…and I don’t know the tolerance. I’m worried about using it and detonating the air.”

“I…uh, ah…” Walter shook his head, processing. “Okay. That’s sort of…hm. I’ve never heard of any magic like that. You’re sure this is something you can actually do?”

I wasn’t sure how to answer that.

I’d never used the ability before. Somehow, though, as soon as I’d learned that my sword was the Dominion Breaker, I’d felt like something had clicked in my mind. That the powers of that weapon had always been within reach. That I could use them intuitively, if I tried.

I wasn’t quite prepared to share that much. Instead, I found a somewhat more evasive answer that was still honest. “I’ve read about the abilities from multiple sources that I consider reliable, but I’ve never tested them, due to the potential danger.”

“You said abilities — plural?”

I nodded. “Mostly different applications of the same concept. Detonating spells, destroying magical items, or detonating mana more directly.”

I’d considered testing drawing more of the Dominion Breaker’s power into myself, too, but I wasn’t quite ready for that. Last time had nearly been catastrophic. The plan was to start with some other applications of the Dominion Breaker’s ability first, master them, then figure out how to draw the Dominion Breaker’s power into myself in a more controlled fashion.

“Ah, understood. Hm.” Walter nodded to himself. “Okay. I see your problem. If it only requires a bit of mana to spread, it could continue…well, forever. That’s sort of horrifying, honestly. How did anyone ever use it previously?”

I gave a shrug. “Greater control and knowledge than what I have, presumably. And I suspect the continent I come from has generally lower ambient mana saturation.”

“And we’re only presuming that it could detonate the air here.” Walter nodded to himself. “It’s possible — even likely — it requires a significant enough mana concentration that it would only target assembled spells. I can see why you would be worried, though. I would not want to risk using that without any context, either.” He clasped his hands together. “Okay. I think we can make this work.”

I blinked. “Really? How?”

“Any conventional arena would have the same problems this one does, but there’s another option. It’s expensive, even more so than this place, but high-level attuned sometimes train in extra-dimensional spaces. This is usually used for training techniques that require complete secrecy, as well as techniques that have tremendously large areas of effect.”

I understood the concept — the area between planes where I’d found the Spirit Gateway Crystal would have been something similar to what he was discussing. I hadn’t really considered using something like that as a training area, but perhaps I should have. In fact, that specific location might have been very useful, if the crystal had allowed it.

Mentally, I made a note to go back and see if the Spirit Gateway Crystal would allow me to train at that location in the future.

I needed to visit the crystal again either way. I wanted to ask it just how long ago Wrynn Jaden had visited and left the shadeweave tunic for me.

That would have to wait until the end of the tournament, since I was so far away, but it was a high priority on my agenda for after the tournament ended.

“How would we get access to one of these training spots?”

Walter made a ‘hm’ noise, indicating he was thinking. “Two main ways. First, you ask someone who already has one if they’re willing to loan it out as a favor. Lord Theas is Valian, and if he thinks you’re a countryman with a chance to win, he might share it with you. Then again, you’re still competition for him, so he might be hesitant to give you an extra edge.”

I nodded. That was an option to consider, and I’d been planning to visit Alexander either way. I had questions for him. “What else?”

“You could rent one, if you can afford it. I could leverage some connections to try to get you a discount, but I have to warn you…it’s not going to be cheap.”

“Can you give me a concept of just how expensive you’re talking?”

Walter considered, then replied, “On the order of ten thousand silver per day.”

I winced. “Sigils or imperials?”

“Imperials,” he clarified. That was actually a little cheaper, but still hideously expensive. I did have a ludicrous amount of money from winning the fight against Taer’vys, but I wasn’t sure this was the most efficient way to spend it. Ten thousand imperials was well beyond what I could hope to earn in a short time under normal circumstances, and I couldn’t rely on my ability to earn that much again…well, ever, really.

Walter must have seen my expression. “I know. I’ve never had that much money in hand at once. Most people haven’t. I suppose you could try to find a wealthy sponsor for the end of the tournament…”

I shook my head. “No, I don’t like the idea of being indebted to some Archduke I’ve never met. Borrowing access from someone like Theas might be a better approach, but do you know of any other quick ways to make money during the tournament?”

“Well, there are gambling houses, and you could always place bets on matches. As a combatant, you’d have a better idea of who might win than the average person, but I’d advise against it. People are known to throw matches, and there have been a lot of surprises this year in general.”

I nodded.

I strongly suspected Taer’vys had intended to lose to me from the start — he was the type of guy who would bet a huge amount of money against himself through a third party, then collect the profit. Most fighters would care more about their reputations, but I didn’t know the people here well enough to rule that out for any individual duelist.

“What about just fighting in more duels?”

“You could, of course, but even that way I doubt you’d earn enough. How much did you get from the fight against Taer’vys?”

“A lot, but I sort of had other plans for that.”

“Wise.” Walter nodded. “I’ll ask around about finding you something cheap, but if you have any powerful friends that owe you favors, I’d advise you to save the money for something more permanent.”

Friends that owe me favors? Hm. Edria Song owes me a favor, but I wouldn’t quite call her a friend, nor would I want to use her favor on this.

Edria Song wasn’t a perfect match, but I did have someone I’d been meaning to talk to — and she was exactly the type of person that might have access to what I needed.

***

An hour or so later, I was sitting in a heavily warded room across from the person who had been on the top of my list. “I’m calling in one of the favors you owe me.”

“This isn’t really a great time.” Hannah stared across the table at me. “Unless you consider getting a body for a friend to be a higher priority than Akadi.”

“No, other favor. I do need to call that favor in at some point, too, but this is more immediately relevant.”

Hannah raised an eyebrow. “Continue.”

“I need access to a specialized training facility. One of the ones with extra-dimensional spaces that can handle extremely dangerous spell casting.”

“And what makes you think I have access to anything like that?”

I gave her a hard look. “The Crown Princess has to train somewhere. And I’m guessing, given the Edrian family’s general level of power, you’ve got a permanent facility or two for that sort of thing. As an Emerald-level Executioner, I’ll wager you’ve even used one yourself.”

She wrinkled her nose. “I suppose you’d win that wager. We have the Grey Rooms, but they’re not here. They’re in the capitol.”

“And you don’t have any sort of portal to get instantly back there?”

“That’s not the type of thing I can tell you, even for a favor.” She raised a hand to her chin. “We do have a facility here that might serve your purpose. It’s not as extensive as the Grey Rooms, but if you’re not expecting to be pampered, it might work. How is this related to Akadi?”

“I know a technique that might be able to kill his true body, but it’s so dangerous that I’ve never used it.”

She was momentarily rendered speechless. I waited. After a moment, she replied in a near-whisper, “…You do realize that you’ve just admitted that you have an incredibly lethal technique to one of your tournament opponents?”

“I’m not worried about that. We both know when we walk into that arena that any of our opponents might have the ability to kill us outright — that’s part of the risk. And part of the fun.”

“Ah.” She closed her eyes. “But something that you believe could kill Akadi is a different matter. You’re discussing a technique that might present a risk to my charge.”

By her “charge”, I assumed she meant the Crown Princess. “From our last conversation, I suspect she’d welcome that risk.”

Hannah’s expression shifted to surprise. “You spoke to her?”

I fished the token out of my bag. I didn’t hand it to her, but I displayed it. “See for yourself.”

Hannah’s expression darkened. “I was not informed.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Is that such a problem? I’m sure she has other bodyguards.”

“This is a personal matter. Put that away, and I advise you not to flash that around in the future. Avoid using it.”

“…Why?”

She shook her head. “You don’t want to get involved in this. You’re an asset right now, but you could quickly become a problem.”

“I’m not sure I like the sound of that.” I sat back in my chair. “What exactly are you implying? Is the Crown Princess some sort of prisoner, to be guarded and monitored at all times?”

Hannah laughed. “Nothing of the sort, although she might say otherwise. All the imperials think they’re prisoners to the crown. But there are politics in play here. You’re not from around here, so I’ll give you a bit of a hint. You’ll note that the Crown Princess is the granddaughter of Emperor Fang, not his child.”

“Ah. Her parents are being difficult?”

Hannah snorted. “Difficult. That’s one way of putting it. And it’s not just her parents — her siblings, especially the older ones. Her aunts and uncles. This will not be a clean succession.”

“You’re absolutely right, I don’t want to get involved in that. Thank you for the advice.” Imperial succession drama was the least of my worries at the moment, unless it directly ended up involving Akadi or the sacred swords…which, of course, it almost certainly did. Some things clicked together in my head, but this wasn’t the right time to worry about them. “I have no interest in using this technique against ordinary humans. It’s designed for beings like Akadi and his master. My goal is simply to make sure I can use it without collateral damage.”

Hannah took a moment to examine my face, presumably looking for signs of deception. “Given your behavior when you were operating without memories, I can believe that.”

“You watched that?”

A faint hint of a smile. “I always enjoy watching the competition.”

“Right. Then you know that killing people is generally something I like to avoid.”

“It seems to be. But you’re dangerous when you’re backed into a corner, and I’m not sure I should be helping you get more dangerous.”

I shrugged at that. “If it’s any consolation, I’m confident I could already use the technique — it just wouldn’t be properly controlled.”

“That’s…no, that’s not comforting at all.”

I clasped my hands in front of me. “Meaning that, if anything, allowing me to go train in a safe place and get a better handle on this will make me less dangerous to your charge. If I discover the technique can’t be properly controlled, I may abandon it completely. Or I might kill myself in that extra-dimensional space, and you’ll have one less risk to think about.”

“As difficult as you’re being right now, I’d rather not have any dead sacred sword wielders in training halls. Too much paperwork.” In spite of her dry tone, I could sense a bit of humor in her eyes, which was more comforting than the rest of the conversation had been.

I nodded. “Will you help me, then?”

“This is really just for improving your control?” Hannah asked.

“I’m not going to lie — I’m going to do some more general training, too. But in terms of the techniques I’m specifically requesting this type of facility for, improved control and reducing risk for collateral damage is my highest priority.”

She stared at me for a moment, then slowly nodded. “Okay. I’ll make the arrangements. Is there anything else?”

“The scythe. If you’re not using it—”

“We are. I think we’re nearing a breakthrough on a tracking spell that might be usable with the scythe as a focus.”

I nodded. That was a better application for it than anything I could do with it. “Good. If you go after Akadi, I want in.”

“Don’t worry.” Hannah nodded. “I’ll make sure we put you right in front of him.”

That phrasing probably should have worried me, but it didn’t.

Even if Hannah was setting me up, I was happy to take that risk.

At the moment, I didn’t feel much like a traditional hero or a heroic knight. But on rare occasion, Dawn was right.

Sometimes a hero found a monster to fight.

CHAPTER X – REQUIEM

Hannah told me it would take until the next day to secure a spot at the training facility. Then, she gave me directions and a pin that would secure access to both the Royal Retreat and the training area within it.

For the rest of the day, I had some other matters to take care of.

First, I visited the reward counter to pick up my winnings from the Battle Royale.

“Please forgive us for the delay. We’ve managed to restock most of our goods, and we can now properly award you with your prizes for the Battle Royale. The prizes for the fourth tournament round should be available later in the week,” the man at the counter explained.

“Understood. What do I get for the Battle Royale?”

“Let me see your identification sigil.”

I passed it over, and he took a moment to check some paperwork.

“Oh, my. Congratulations. You placed ninth in terms of survival and second in terms of eliminating opponents. That’s very impressive! There are prizes for both, the latter of which is quite substantial.” He handed my identification sigil back to me. “Please let me go and check with my manager to make sure I get everything you’re owed, some of these items are very valuable.”

I gave him a nod and waited.

In the meantime, I asked another worker who the winners were.

For eliminations, only one person had beaten my own score — Satoshi Muramasa. I’d already been intrigued by him, but now I was far more interested.

Third place in that category was Lady Hartigan, which I found completely unsurprising.

In terms of survival, the eight people above me were mostly familiar. A couple of the Dalenos Six had managed to survive longer, presumably by exploiting simulacra like I’d noticed before. There were a smattering of Edrian names that probably belonged to Hannah’s unit of royal guards around the same area. Muramasa had managed the third place slot.

And at the top?

Hannah in second. Reika in first.

I felt a smile cross my face. Reika was going to brag about beating me, but that was fine. I was happy for her, and I hoped she’d get a good prize out of her performance.

I’d have to congratulate her when I got back.

A small parade of arena employees came out carrying my rewards, placing them on the counter in front of me. There were four different boxes and the last box was so large that it took four employees to lift.

“These are all for me?” I asked.

“The Battle Royale uses a tiered prize system, where winners are eligible for the highest reward they’ve earned, as well as some of the lower-level rewards. You earned the general rewards for placing in the top ten in survival and eliminations, as well as a general reward for being in the top three for eliminations and a specific reward for being number two in eliminations.”

“Interesting. Okay. What’s in each?” I gestured at the boxes.

“Each of the boxes is sealed. You may open them here and look inside if you choose, or simply take them home. There are documents inside each box explaining each reward in detail.” Each of the employees set a key on top of the box they’d set on the counter.

I considered the offer, then took the keys, put them in my bag, and then glanced at the boxes again. Then I stacked the boxes — only one was particularly large, and took them back to the Study of Iron.

Privacy wasn’t my concern. I had something else in mind.

I set them down outside of Reika’s door and knocked.

“What is it?” Reika answered.

“I have four mystery boxes. I don’t know what’s inside them.”

I heard the rush of air as Reika threw herself out of bed and ran to the door, flinging it open.

“Mystery boxes!” Her eyes widened when she saw the stack. “Where? How?”

I smiled at her. “Let’s bring them inside. Then, you can get your own presents, and we can open them together.”

“I get presents too?!”

Then I told her. “Go to the reward counter and ask about the Battle Royale.”

She gasped. “Are those ready now? Okay! I’ll be right back. Come on, Dawn!”

She rushed out the door, still in her sleepwear.

I laughed, then rested on her floor until she got back, carrying four boxes of her own. She cradled a particularly fancy one lined with rubies against her chest like a newborn. Her prize for first place, presumably.

Then she set them down on the ground and sat across from me.

“Okay. Small prizes first.” She set the ruby box aside, then shifted to holding a long, thin box that mirrored mine. They were both lined with silver and had a symbol of a sword on them, so presumably they were for ranking in the top ten for eliminations.

“Before we start, satisfy my curiosity about something. How’d you beat Muramasa?”

Reika wrinkled her nose. “Ugh. We didn’t beat him. When it was down to just Hannah, him, and me, he stepped out of the arena.”

“…Huh. Any idea why?”

She shook her head. “Nope. Betting he had an arrangement with Hannah, though, like we did. She wouldn’t say anything about it.”

“Strange. He injured her early on…but maybe that was an excuse for her to stay out of the heavy fighting? Or maybe he…” I shook my head. “Doesn’t matter. You deserve congratulations for winning, either way.”

“Sure do! I can always punch that guy later. And believe me, I plan to.”

I smiled at that. “Sounds like a good plan. Thanks for the info. Ready for some boxes now?” I asked.

“Let’s get our keys out.” We both removed our keys from our bags, then inserted them into the slots in the chests. “Ready…go!”

We turned our keys and opened the boxes.

Each box held a note, as well as the true treasure — a scabbard sized for an arming sword. The one in my box was stark white, while Rei’s was pitch black.

“Scabbard!” Rei exclaimed. “For my, uh, sword!” She glanced down at Dawn, then back at the scabbard, then back to Dawn. “Or…something.”

I picked up my note and gave it a quick read.

Sharpshift Scabbard

This scabbard shapeshifts into the shape of the weapon sheathed within it, allowing weapons from the size of a dagger to a greatsword to be safely contained inside.

Once a weapon is stored within, the scabbard cleans the weapon and repairs routine damage. This functions safely on most magical weapons.

Finally, after cleaning and repairs are completed, the Sharpshift Scabbard imbues the weapon’s edge with cutting energy, increasing its sharpness for a limited time after it is drawn.

“Sharpshift, eh? Not bad.” I set my scabbard back down.

“Mine’s named that, too, but looks different.” We traded papers. The description on Rei’s was identical. “Huh. Guess the color difference is just cosmetic.”

“Which one does Dawn like more?” I asked.

Rei paused. “…She wants your scabbard. If that’s okay. Please.”

“Not a problem.” I passed it over to Rei, who immediately patted it against Dawn affectionately. Then Rei handed me the black scabbard, which I set down next to me.

“Dawn says ‘thank you’, in her own, you know, not particularly thankful way.”

I snorted. “She’s welcome. Next box?”

“Next box.”

We both grabbed a small box next — the only other one we had duplicates of. From the shield insignia, this one represented surviving into the top ten.

We turned keys in locks and flipped the boxes open.

Inside, we each found a silvery shield-shaped pin.

“Ooh! Shield sigil! I’ve always wanted one of these!” Rei turned it over in her hands with a look of genuine delight.

I picked up the page that accompanied mine.

Survival Sigil

This shield sigil remains inactive until it detects that you are significantly injured, after which it generates a barrier. This generally allows it to function as a second-line defense after all other shield sigils you are wearing are already depleted, providing emergency defense to protect you in deadly situations.

I set the note back down. I wasn’t particularly impressed by the description – it sounded like someone was trying to fit an enchantment to the “survival” theme more than an item that was actually practical. Either that, or it was just expected that all veteran fighters would already have a normal shield sigil.

Probably both, I realized.

Either way, I passed mine to Reika immediately. “Yours.”

Reika took the sigil and blinked. “Really? You don’t want it?”

I shook my head. “I’d rather you have it.”

“Why?” She set it down, then gave me a dubious look. “You can’t just earn our trust back by continuously plying us with gifts, you know. It doesn’t work like that.” After a moment of pause, she added, “Dawn says to keep giving her gifts anyway, though.”

I shook my head. “It’s not like that. I do want to make things up to you, but that’s not a bribe. My aura interferes with defensive magic. Always has. Would have bought a shield sigil early on otherwise. It sounds incredibly useful to anyone who isn’t me. And, since the description clearly indicates someone can wear more than one sigil…”

“You can, yeah. Just have to keep them far enough apart that they don’t interfere, and hope they don’t overlap. Which these might, given that they’re the same design…hm. I’ll look into it.” She picked up the pin. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to assume you had ulterior motives.”

“It’s fine. I understand that you and Dawn might still be a little…on edge.”

Reika rolled her eyes. “Dawn laughed at that, at least. You deserve to know that, even if the pun was awful.”

“I appreciate your magnanimousness.”

Reika gave me the world’s laziest mock bow, slipped the sigil I’d given her in her own box, then shoved the current boxes aside in favor of another next one. “Next?”

“Next it is.” I grabbed the prize for reaching the top three in eliminations next, mirroring her box for the top three in survival.

Click went the keys.

We opened our boxes in unison.

Reika blinked at the contents of her box, but I couldn’t see what she was looking at from my angle.

Inside my box was a now-familiar style of explanatory note and a pair of bracers. The exterior of the bracers was all metal, but not traditional plates. Instead, it consisted of dozens of tiny silvery scales, with the ones nearest the wrist etched with gleaming blue runes. The scales were probably intended to resemble the scales of a dragon, serpent, or that sort of legendary creature.

Glancing back up at Reika, then down to the bracers, I didn’t see a particularly strong resemblance. That said, scale armor wasn’t unheard of even where I came from, but it wasn’t common. Plate and chain were more popular for knights, and more standard infantry and mercenaries tended to stick with brigandine or a gambeson with a few pieces of heavier armor in more vital locations. I’d heard scale was more popular in Valeria, one of Velthryn’s sister-cities, but I’d never been there.

I picked up one of the bracers, noting that they had a soft inner lining that would make them more comfortable to wear. The bracers were remarkably lightweight, which negated my primary excuse for avoiding wearing armor. Bracers on their own weren’t particularly troublesome and having more metal on my body did provide me with some extra options in emergencies.

Perhaps more importantly, I could sense a familiar flow of metal sorcery from within the bracers. I hadn’t often encountered items that corresponded to my own sorcery type, so this was a rare opportunity.

I decided to at least consider wearing them, but I’d have to look at the note first.

Bladebreaker Bracers

I froze, nearly dropping the one bracer I was still holding.

I had, after all, almost joined the Thornguard’s Bladebreaker Division.

Had someone snuck me this prize as a joke? Could Taer’vys have…

I calmed myself, setting the bracer down to continue to read.

There was a much more likely explanation — this was just one more example of the alliteration that the goddess loved so dearly. The Sharpshift Scabbard and Survival Sigil both had alliterative names, too.

The name of the bracers was probably a coincidence.

Probably.

“You okay?” Reika asked. “You looked startled there.”

“Uh, yeah. Just…the name of the item threw me a bit. Let me finish reading, then you can see.”

She nodded, lifting up her own note to read.

Bladebreaker Bracers

These bracers are enchanted for vastly increased resilience, but that is not their primary function. When struck with a bladed weapon, these bracers will immediately activate a stored effect to snap the offending weapon in twain. This will work against some enchanted items, providing the enchanted item’s defenses do not exceed the power of the bracers.

I stared at the bracers for a moment, contemplating. The effect sounded very similar to my own sword-breaking techniques. And if they utilized metal sorcery, it was plausible that the bracers were doing something nearly identical.

An automatic defense when I blocked wasn’t a bad investment, but I had two major concerns.

First, I was worried about how the bracers would affect Dawn if I was wielding her. She was sensitive to my blade-breaking thoughts, and if I activated the bracers while holding her, I wasn’t sure if it would hurt her. I also didn’t know the level of sensitivity for activating the bracers, so I didn’t know if, say, bumping her against them by accident could cause her harm.

Second, I had that habit of permanently copying abilities from items.

If I somehow acclimated to the bracers, would that make me start breaking metal objects just by touching them?

I didn’t think so, but it was a bit of a risk.

I passed my note to Reika. “Ask Dawn what she thinks about these, please.”

Then I related my concerns.

“She says she thinks it’ll be fine, given her magic resistance, but that we can practice low-level sword breaking effects on her sometime to see what happens.”

I blinked. “That sounds extremely dangerous.”

“Yeah, sure. So is every time we fight in an arena. Better to know what level of risk there is from these things in advance, right? It’s a top three prize. You’re not the only one who is going to be wearing them.”

“That’s…an excellent point.”

Rei gave me a look.

“That wasn’t a sword pun until you glared at me, but now it is.”

She sighed in resignation. “We can do some practice right after this, if you’d like.”

“I’d like that.” She was offering a chance to get things closer to normal, and I appreciated it, even if the particular idea for the activity was worrying. “What happens if I end up with some kind of innate sword-breaking ability, though?”

“She still doesn’t think it would hurt her, especially given that your existing killy-aura doesn’t.”

“I really wish you wouldn’t call it a killy-aura.”

“Deathy aura?”

“No.”

“Murder aura?”

I sighed. “Killy aura it is. But even if Dawn isn’t affected, what about other items?”

“She reassures you that other items are not important, especially other swords, which are inferior to her and not worthy of being rivals for her attention.”

“Ah. Understood. Got it.” I’d still have to consider the implications, but Dawn and Rei had reassured me a little, in their own strange way. And even if I did end up with a sword-breaking ability, there was a decent chance I could learn to disable it deliberately if it drew from metal sorcery.

“Okay. What’s in your box there? I can’t see it from my angle.”

She looked up at me, then back down in the box. “A secret.”

“A secret?” I raised an eyebrow at her.

She shut the lid. “A secret. Next box.”

“Wait, hold on.”

Reika ignored me, shifting the box out of the way in favor of her grand prize.

I didn’t bother arguing further, I just mumbled something about the inequities of our relationship and grabbed my own last box. The one for getting second place.

It was the gigantic one that had taken four ordinary people to lift. Of course, that hadn’t been any challenge for me, but even I hadn’t been able to feel whatever was inside. At first, I’d guessed a suit of armor, but that didn’t really fit the elimination theme unless it was…bad at being armor, or something. Maybe the sort of armor made out of spikes, or blades, or other implausible things that people wore out of aesthetic more than practicality.

I’d never really understood that kind of thing, but I resolved that if there was, in fact, sword armor in the box, I’d at least try it on. Dawn and Rei would be tickled to see me in it, at least.

“You go first. Since your prize is lower.”

I rolled my eyes. “If you insist.”

I turned my key in the lock. I opened the box at an angle where Reika couldn’t see the contents.

“Well,” I said, grinning, “That’s fascinating.” I slammed the box shut, turning my key.

Reika’s eyed widened. “No. You can’t!”

I winked at her. “Oh, I most certainly can.”

“But…but…giant box…”

I nodded sagely. “Giant surprise. The most important of surprises.”

She recoiled as if struck. “How could you?”

“I believe a wise sword once told me to ‘let nothing remain in the wake of my terrible vengeance’.”

Reika glanced down at Dawn. “She says you’re taking that out of context, but she’s also laughing. At me, I think. I don’t like it.”

“Then you’re going to have to learn to share.” I gave a flourish of a gesture at her own pair of unrevealed boxes.

Reika looked at the box, emotions flickering across her face in instants. Uncertainty. Betrayal, and then, finally, her eyes narrowed in resolve. “Do your worst.”

I shrugged. “Okay.” I began to stack my other boxes on top of the larger one. “I’ll see you later, then.”

“Waitwaitwait, I have no actual willpower. Please. The box. I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?” I waggled an eyebrow at her.

“Within reason, Keras. No need to get all flirtatious just because we had some mild sexual tension when we were missing all our memories. I get enough of that from Dawn, believe me.”

“Oh, I believe you. I had to listen to her innuendo for ages.”

“Only weeks, really.”

“It felt like ages. Anyway, I’ll show you the inside of the box, and you can even keep your last two boxes a secret for now. But, I’m going to need something important from you. Something deeply personal.”

Reika looked intrigued. “Go on.”

“You must never, ever call me Sir Vicious Malbad again.”

***

In the end, Reika chose to agree to my deal.

I showed her. She gasped. Then I closed the box.

“Hold on, I couldn’t read the note fast enough.”

“I know.” I grinned at her. “A deal is a deal. Be more specific next time.”

“You…cheating…unfair…”

I picked up the boxes and fled before she could, say, throw a shoe at me or something.

I’m pretty sure I heard something hit the wall on the way out.

Then, whistling cheerfully, I made my way back to my room and set down the boxes.

Once there, I reopened the giant box, which contained…

…A featureless copper ring.

I already had some suspicions when I’d first seen it, but the instructions confirmed them.

Burden Band

This ring gathers and stores compressed mana within, giving it tremendous weight. This mana can then be deployed in a number of ways. The ring is thought activated, with commands for each function:

Burden Band: Impact deploys a portion of the stored mana on your next detected attack.

Burden Band: Blast deploys a portion of the stored mana through a blast from the ring.

Burden Band: Cling deploys a sheet of weight that ‘clings’ to the next thing it comes in contact with, weighing them down until the mana disperses.

While fully charged, the ring has significant weight, but the band will nullify this weight for the wearer once it is put on. We advise caution when putting the ring on and taking it off, however, as the weight is not nullified until the ring detects that it is securely worn.

I set the instructions down and carefully picked up the ring. It weighed, at my best estimate, a good three hundred pounds. It was no wonder the staff needed multiple people to carry it.

For me, it wasn’t much of a bother. I didn’t have difficulty carrying it, and I knew it would be trivial once it was slipped on. I did, however, have another problem — I already had two magic rings, and provided I didn’t lose my memories again, I’d intended to wear one on each hand for future challenges.

Wearing multiple rings on the same hand meant a possibility that they would interfere with each other, which wasn’t a good idea with any of the rings I happened to own.

That meant that I’d have to either make a difficult choice on what to wear, or…

I took out my other rings. The newly-acquired copper band didn’t have any obvious runes on it, meaning it was either enchanted by another method or had the runes hidden on the inside. Maybe even gems inside, potentially. I thought I could sense something inside, but I was getting interference from all the stored mana.

Shaping that particular ring wasn’t a wise idea, since I didn’t know enough about the structure.

But the Ring of Flame Twisting had clear runes on the exterior and an obvious red gem as a power source. Reshaping it was easy.

The hard part was convincing myself to wear a toe ring. I’d never liked toe rings. They made walking awkward.

Still, it was a small price to pay for the ability to wear an extra magical item, so I did it anyway.

As I adjusted the item, a pattern occurred to me — each of the various rewards for the Battle Royale had abilities similar to what Diamantine had demonstrated. The Burden Band was similar to Diamantine’s Weight of the World power, the scabbard offered extreme sharpness and some shapechanging abilities, the bracers shattered weapons…that was definitely a deliberate theme.

It didn’t matter much, but it meant I could guess that Reika’s secret prizes probably had Diamantine-like abilities, too.

Maybe something involving petrification?

I didn’t have to worry too much about her using that against me, but against most contestants it would be deadly. She could also have other items with themes that overlapped with the ones we’d seen — things like density or brittleness manipulation. I’d have to watch for those. Anything that strengthened Reika’s defenses further would make her very difficult to fight against, even for me.

I hid my new prizes away, except for the bracers, and went back to Reika’s room and knocked. “It’s Keras again.”

“Go away, Cheating McCheatypants.”

“Oh, come on. I’m just here for the fighting we discussed earlier. Don’t you want to punch me?”

There was a moment of silence, then I heard shuffling.

Reika never could resist the siren’s allure of punching me.

I waited patiently until she came out and closed the door behind her.

“Very well. I accept your challenge, obviously evil knight.”

I groaned. She’d technically met her side of the bargain, too, but I couldn’t hear that and not think of a particular name.

Vengeance was not mine alone, it seemed.

When she stepped out, Reika was wearing the two Survival Sigils on her pant legs and Dawn was sheathed in the Sharpshift Scabbard at her side. I had to admit, the scabbard did look good on her. Her meaning Dawn, that is, but both, really.

“I am pleased you’ve acknowledged my challenge, Mistress Dragon.” I rattled my bracers together menacingly. “Now, let’s go beat up a damsel.”

***

In spite of my phrasing, the next hour was less “beat up a damsel” and more “extremely cautiously test how much metal sorcery Dawn can safely resist”.

There was a wrinkle that I hadn’t been thinking about — beyond Dawn’s magic resistance, she’d been building up her own metal sorcery. When I tried basic things like trying to slightly bend her (safely, mind you) when Reika smacked Dawn into the Pale Crescent, I found it considerably harder to shape her than it used to be — even when she wasn’t deliberately resisting me.

And when she was trying to actively defend herself with metal shaping, she did a pretty good job of nullifying my early attempts entirely.

I say “early attempts” because we went at it for quite a while — and she didn’t have the mana reserves that I did. Not yet. Nor did she have the kind of sheer power necessary to stop me if I was really trying.

In spite of wearing the bracers, we didn’t actually test them that day. Not yet. We got enough information just from testing my own typical metal shaping abilities to know that it wouldn’t be safe.

We did test an ordinary sword against the bracers, though, just to see how they worked — and after seeing the shredded pile of metal that resulted, we decided that it would be wise to take a while before we tried Dawn against them, even with her improving talents.

All in all, it was more of a testing session than a real sparring session, at least at first.

After we got all that out of the way, I took off the bracers, hid them away, and came back to the training room floor.

And then, Reika and I punched each other for a while. Dawn watched and rested.

It was nice. Familiar.

By the end, Rei and I were both sweaty messes of bruises. Just the way we liked it.

***

After we went our separate ways to bathe, Reika and I had different things to take care of.

Reika had somehow managed to convince Shun to go shopping with her. She looked happy, and maybe a little bit nervous. I wished her the best of luck and hoped that things didn’t get too awkward this time.

I wasn’t going shopping, but I did have some dubious arrangements of my own for the rest of the day.

The first involved me sitting down at a private table at a fancy restaurant.

Alexander Theas sat down across from me, turning to speak to the server. “Privacy screens, please.”

“Right away,” the server acknowledged.

Alexander turned back to me. “I appreciate the invitation. Let’s wait for the screens before we get into any business or strategy, shall we?”

“Of course.” I wasn’t actually familiar with the screens he was talking about, but I could guess from their name. We made small talk for a few minutes and glanced at the menus before the server returned, setting down six tiny devices in a hexagonal shape around where we were sitting.

A flickering, translucent field manifested around us a moment later. The noise outside from the rest of the restaurant ceased immediately.

The server stepped through the barrier — apparently, it didn’t impede movement. “Would you like anything to drink?” he asked.

Alexander ordered some kind of expensive-sounding liquor. I bravely ordered an apple juice.

When the server departed, Alexander looked askance at me. “So. Here for a team-up? It was only one fight, but we handled things fairly well with that blight worm.”

“That’s one of the things I wanted to discuss, but I wasn’t sure if the next round was going to permit teams.”

“It won’t. Not officially. But that doesn’t prevent a little bit of mild collusion.” He gave me a charming, conspiratorial smile.

The suggestion made me mildly uncomfortable. That might sound strange, given that I’d had a similar agreement with Hannah for the Battle Royale. Maybe it was just something about his tone and phrasing, or that I was taking the tournament itself more seriously. I didn’t like the idea of having unfair advantages in something that significant.

“Maybe just something like a ceasefire until most of the other competitors are eliminated?” I suggested. That didn’t feel quite as dirty as overtly working together.

“Simple enough. Done. Was that all you wanted?”

I blinked. That was remarkably straightforward. Generally, nobles engaged in long, complex negotiations. I’d been prepared for a lot more discussion. “Well, I did have some other questions for you, if you don’t mind terribly.”

“Of course. I’m a renowned scholar. For example, apple juice pairs well with the lobster bisque.”

I laughed. “I’m more of a steak guy, but I appreciate the suggestion.”

“Well, if you’re not here for my expertise on the local cuisine, what can I help you with?”

“A bit of history. What can you tell me about the Fall of Velthryn?”

Alex straightened immediately, his expression shifting from friendly to borderline hostile. “Pardon me?”

“The fall of—”

He glared at me. “Hartigan put you up to this, didn’t she?”

“Uh…not exactly? She told me to ask you, but…”

He threw his hands up. “I knew it! That insufferable shrew!”

“Whoa, whoa.” I raised a hand in a calming gesture. “She told me that you were studying to be a history teacher. She said you might be sensitive about the subject, but that you’d be a good resource.”

He put his head in his hands and laughed. “Oh, that’s good. A little sensitive. Yes, I suppose I am a little sensitive about being ridiculed my entire life.”

“…What?” I blinked.

“You are either incredibly ignorant, share Hartigan’s terrible sense of humor, or have deliberately colluded to insult me. I’m not sure which is worse, but in any case, I fear I’ve lost my appetite.” He dropped his menu on the table and stood up. “Good day, sir.”

“Wait, wait. Hold on, please. I really am just looking for information. I meant no insult.”

He glared at me a moment, then sat back down, folding his arms. “You certainly offered one.”

“I honestly had no idea. I’m sorry. I still don’t understand why bringing that up was a problem.”

He continued glaring across the table. “How is that possible? You’re Valian. You must know what they say about my family.”

I hesitated, then took a calculated risk. “Actually, I wasn’t born in Valia. So, my education was, ah…”

“Ah.” Theas tapped his fingers on the table. “I suppose that explains a bit, but even if you were born outside of Valia, you should be aware of something of my family’s history.”

“I know that you’re a famous family, one that I believe traces back to that era. So, when Hartigan mentioned talking to you, it seemed like a logical move.”

Alexander laughed deeply, so hard that he had to cover his face.

The waiter came by with drinks. Alexander kept laughing.

I gave him a minute, sipping politely at my juice and wondering just how badly I’d miscalculated.

“Okay.” Alexander took a draw from his drink. “You’re going to need to understand that this is a sensitive subject. Never ask a Theas about the old homeland. It’s been four hundred years, and people still spit at my feet for what happened there.”

I stared at him. “What? That doesn’t make any…”

“We were responsible for the city’s defenses, Keras. Obviously not entirely, but my famous ancestor is the man who warded the walls. Made them ‘impenetrable’. Except, you know, the invasion didn’t go through the walls. It started from the inside.”

“I…had no idea. I’m sorry. Perhaps I should have just picked up a book, but most of the history books I found here were in Edrian. Or, er, Cas.”

“You really didn’t learn any of this in school? Even outside of Valia, I imagine they must teach you something…”

I shook my head. “They didn’t teach me about it, but I heard about it recently, and I’ve been trying to learn more. I’m very sorry for offending you.”

He took another drink, then waved a hand dismissively. “It’s forgotten. You merely startled me. That said, you’ll forgive me if I don’t go into any further detail about my family’s greatest shame.”

“Of course.” I shifted awkwardly in my chair. This wasn’t going as planned, but I’d gotten a bit of information, at least. I’d have to get back to looking into books at some point, or perhaps ask another Valian.

“And, perhaps you’ll forgive an impertinent question of my own?”

I gestured for him to continue. “Sure, I certainly owe you that.”

“You’re the Wielder of Dawnbringer. Why didn’t you have your sword in the last tournament round?”

I took a breath, considering. I decided I simply wasn’t good with secrets, and Alexander didn’t seem like an obvious enemy. “Dawnbringer is sapient and she was angry at me.”

I expected him to dramatically drop his drink or something, but he simply gave me a considering look. “You’re serious.”

“Absolutely serious.”

“Hm.” He nodded, setting his glass down. “I’d noted your friend acting like she was mentally communicating with someone, and I’d considered the sword, but…truly? What of the other swords?”

“I’m not sure yet. Working on it.”

“Fascinating.” He grinned. “I don’t suppose she’s for sale?”

At that point, I very nearly got up and left myself. “I do not sell people, Lord Theas.”

“Ah. Right. Of course.” He gave me a simple nod. “Forget the offer, then. So, you’re having difficulty with her?”

“I was. Mostly smoothed things over at this point.”

“Women are so difficult.” He made a dramatic sigh. “And where is our server? It must have been minutes now. I’m quite ready to order, I’m sure you are as well.”

“I’m sure he’s just giving us some space during an obviously engaging conversation.”

Alexander snorted. “You give the servants too much credit.”

I tried not to give him too judgmental of a look after that, and briefly debated if this was the sort of person I wanted to even have a non-aggression agreement with.

To get my mind off my growing distaste for Alexander’s thought process, I switched the subject. “What do you think of the other remaining fighters?”

“Ah. A good question.” Alexander took another drink. “Let’s go through them one at a time and share bits, shall we?”

***

The rest of the lunch was a bit easier once we switched to discussing the other fighters, but I couldn’t shake the feelings of distaste I felt when he’d talked about buying Dawnbringer or disparaging the restaurant staff.

I wasn’t going to be asking Alexander Theas out for food again any time soon.

I did briefly ask him if he had any knowledge about finding bodies for spiritual entities, but he didn’t. He told me he could point me to someone back home if I ever visited Valia, and I thanked him and mentally noted that, but I hoped I wouldn’t have to look into that.

I think we both came away from the lunch with a little bit less interest in each other than before, but a bit more information. Not ideal, but I didn’t regret the meeting.

I hoped my remaining visits for the day would go a bit more smoothly.

***

Ishyeal Dawnsglow had insisted that he’d find me, but I was tired of waiting.

I expected to find him training, or maybe cloistered in some kind of arcane tower littered with ancient treasures and eldritch runes.

I found him in a small coffee shop, reading poetry while a local musician played softly in a corner of the store.

He raised an eyebrow as I approached, but didn’t stand. “Selyrian.”

“May I sit here?” I asked, waving at the seat across from him.

“Sure. Might want to order something first, though. It’s more polite.”

I gave him a blank look. “Wouldn’t I do that here?”

“No, it’s not a restaurant. You order coffee at the counter, there.” He pointed.

“Oh.” I nodded. “Okay. I’ll be right back.”

I went and stood in line, ordered a coffee, paid, and…Ishyeal was gone.

“Son of a—”

I downed my coffee in a hurry, then chased after him. My sense for the location of the sacred swords wasn’t as strong as when I was carrying Dawn, but I could get a basic direction easily enough.

I found him again about an hour later, reading a newspaper and leaning up against a wall.

I approached him with a glare. “You ditched me.”

“I said you could sit there. I never said I’d stay.”

I glared at him. “Why are you avoiding me?”

He folded his newspaper, turning his eyes to meet my own. “One, I don’t like to get close to the locals. Two, I was evaluating you.”

“Evaluating me for what, exactly?”

“Patience.” He shook his head. “I’m sure you’re aware of the qualities associated with each sacred sword. In this case…”

“I’m not really in the mood for tests right now. This is too important.”

Ishyeal raised a hand and made an affirmative gesture. “Agreed. This is important. That’s precisely why I need to be able to trust you.”

“I don’t think I’ve done anything to earn your distrust.”

“If you can’t even wait for me to come visit you like we discussed, that demonstrates a lack of trust from your side. And beyond that, it’s not that your behavior has earned my distrust, exactly. It’s that you’d have to do something exceptional to earn it, considering what I see when I look at you.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Which is?”

“Let’s take this talk somewhere else, shall we?” He extended a hand.

I groaned, but given that this discussion was about trust, I supposed I’d have to offer him some of my own. “Fine. Where are we—”

As soon as my hand touched his, we’d moved.

The teleportation effect was even more disorienting than usual, which wasn’t good, since we’d arrived on the top of a tall structure. A stone rooftop with no guard rail, just a swift and potentially lethal drop down to the main body of the arena island far below.

Blearily, I realized that this was the kind of arcane tower that I’d imagined Ishyeal studying in when I’d first gone to look for him.

Ishyeal steadied me with a hand on the shoulder as I teetered near the edge, then pulled me toward the center of the tower to sit.

I managed to keep my stomach from disgorging its contents, but just barely.

“Sorry,” Ishyeal said belatedly. “I didn’t expect you to have a bad reaction. Not much for teleportation?”

“Not without warning.”

“Hm.” He nodded. “I’ll make a note of that.”

I grunted, stretching out on the stone ground and putting a hand on my stomach. Ishyeal sat down next to me, then tapped a hand on the ground and whispered a word. Runes flashed to life all around us.

“Better.”

I glanced from side-to-side, but it was pointless. I couldn’t actually read the runes. “Security enchantments?”

“Something like that.” Ishyeal nodded. “I was going to visit you. You didn’t have to come to me.”

“I can’t wait forever. People are dying. Something has to be done.”

“Hm.” Ishyeal raised a hand, shifting his hat. “On this, at least, we are in agreement.”

“Then why the delays? You’ve been avoiding me for some time now.”

“Because,” Ishyeal folded his hands in his lap. “I’ve been watching you. Studying. You’re like him.”

I blinked. “What? Like Akadi?” I sat up, mildly offended by the implication.

“No, no. Not Akadi. You don’t seem like you’re trying to do anything wrong, and I respect that. The problem is that you have the potential to be worse than he is. Much worse.”

I bristled. “Worse? Who could I—”

“The Devouring Darkness. The one you call the Sun Eater.”

When I heard that, I was more startled than offended. “What do you mean?”

“The Devouring Darkness is a force of unavoidable erosion and decay. His power is seemingly absolute. And you, Keras, wield a power that resembles none more than his. I freely admit it is not identical. Your sword, your aura, they seem to obliterate things outright, without regard to the passage of time. That is no comfort,” he waved at me, “yours may be even more dangerous.”

I took a deep breath. I couldn’t even disagree with his statement. “So, you think that means I’m associated with him?”

“That’s easily the most likely explanation. Your overall combat strength is frankly not even a fraction of his, but you are seemingly young. Perhaps you are one of his latest descendants or experiments, someone with a variant on his powers designed for single combat.”

“You’ve seen me fight his minions.”

“That’s hardly unprecedented.” Ishyeal shrugged. “The Sun Eater is not so sentimental as to prevent his children from destroying each other. You’ve heard of Rendalir — that was a world he helped to create. He turned the people of that world against each other, and slaughtered others himself. If he thinks you are a more perfect weapon, then he would not be afraid to test you against his other children.”

He had an understandable argument. One that, if I didn’t have the context of my entire life behind me, I might have even considered possible. “I am not a servant of the Sun Eater, nor one of his children. My aura comes from this.” I patted the Sae’kes at my side. “If you’ve been studying the Sun Eater, then perhaps you’ve heard of the Dominion Breaker?”

His shoulders slumped. “Unfortunately, I have.”

“Then you should know it was—”

His eyes shut. “An abomination. A weapon forged with complete disregard to sanity.”

“That’s…a little…”

He trembled, barely suppressing anger, but I could tell it wasn’t directed at me. “Do you deny it? Do you even know what that weapon is capable of?”

I tried to hold back my own growing feelings of frustration. “Fighting the Sun Eater and other worldmaker-level threats. Isn’t that exactly what you’re looking for?”

Ishyeal groaned, opening his eyes and shifting back into sitting straight. “There are some lines that should never be crossed. The mere existence of that weapon is one of them. Using it against the Sun Eater the last time he appeared was absolute folly, and a worldmaker died for that failure. One of the good ones, for what little any of them could be called such a thing. And for all that, the sword failed. It should not exist.”

“And yet it does. And even if it failed before, that doesn’t mean—”

“Don’t even contemplate it. Don’t you understand? You are no worldmaker. You would stand no chance against him. If you tried to turn that sword against the Devouring Darkness, he would simply kill you and take it. You have in your possession one of the few means by which the Devouring Darkness could actually grow more dangerous.”

I rested a hand on my scabbard. “Perhaps I have no chance against him as I stand now, but if I continue to train and grow stronger…earn the other sacred swords…”

“Earn them?” Ishyeal gave me a raised eyebrow. “Like you earned Dawnbringer?”

“I don’t know where you heard that I didn’t, but…sure, I did things out of sequence. I’m trying to make up for that. Visiting all the shrines properly. I’ve been through one already.”

He seemed to consider that. “Good that you’re putting in an effort, even if it’s a little late.”

“Did you earn Soulbrand the proper way?”

“Obviously. I know better than to break from tradition on something that important.”

I shook my head. “I’ve never cared much for tradition.”

Ishyeal wagged a finger at me. “That much is obvious. I understand better than most that traditions can be inconvenient, frustrating, and seemingly arbitrary. But traditions can also provide people with comfort. Security. Tradition can be a tool to bring people together, to unite them for a common cause. That has value.”

“Maybe it does,” I conceded. “But there are things in this world that are more important than tradition.”

“Such as?”

“Dawnbringer is sapient.”

Ishyeal stared at me for several moments. Then, he simply said, “No.”

“No?”

“No. She can’t be sapient. She’s a sword. Even if she was intelligent — which is doubtful — the word would be ‘sentient’. Sapient implies human-like intellect or wisdom, which a sword can’t have.”

“Pedantry? Really?” I groaned in annoyance. “Look, she does have human-like intelligence. And as for wisdom, one of her three signature virtues is insight, which is practically synonymous with that. She conceptualizes herself as being—”

“It’s a moot point. Dawnbringer isn’t like that.”

“Why do you say that? You know that sentient objects exist. You’re carrying one of them — the crystal. Maybe more than one, if Soulbrand is…”

“It isn’t.” Ishyeal shook his head. “The sword has a spirit, but it’s neither sentient nor sapient.”

“How can you be sure?”

“I can’t be absolutely certain, but I’m bonded to the sword. If the spirit had intellect, I should be able to hear it. Probably feel it, too. But I’ve never sensed a thing.”

That wasn’t a terrible argument, but as he admitted himself, it wasn’t absolute proof. “Maybe the spirit of the sword isn’t compatible with you for some reason?”

“Not impossible, but extremely unlikely. This area does use different types of magic than my own, but I’ve been able to contact other sentient items before.”

“Could I hold Soulbrand for a minute, just to check?”

“Absolutely not.” He shook his head. “You could try to run off with it, bond it to increase your powers, or destroy it.”

“I wouldn’t…” I sighed. It was basically the same reason I wasn’t willing to hand my sword off to Ravenshade, so I could see his argument. “Will you at least look into it on your own?”

He seemed to consider that, then nodded. “Fair. I’ll consider doing that at some point. I may visit the Fire Temple again eventually, but I can’t do that during the tournament. As you have noted yourself, people are dying. That is my current priority.”

“Fine. Let’s change the subject.”

I considered bringing Dawnbringer’s own sapience up again, pressing him on why he believed that to be unlikely…but it wasn’t worth arguing about if he wouldn’t let me try to contact Soulbrand. Honestly, if I convinced him that she was intelligent, that was more likely to be disadvantageous than beneficial. “Back to the Sun Eater. Even if you don’t think I’m worthy of the sacred swords, I’m growing stronger rapidly. You saw what I managed in that fight. If I can master the proper use of the Dominion Breaker, maybe I could grow strong enough to challenge the Sun Eater directly.”

“Perhaps. But if you failed, the consequences would shake the fabric of the stars. Are you prepared to take that risk?”

“Inaction has its own risks. I would rather fight than watch more innocents die because I failed to take a stand. I…” My mind flashed to a painful memory. “Ari. If I’d realized sooner…”

“Maybe you could have done something, but maybe things would have gone even worse. We can’t know what would have happened, and we can’t undo the past. It’s okay to grieve, but you can’t let yourself be buried in loss.”

“How can you make it sound so simple? It’s…he was just a kid. And…I…I failed him. I can’t just…forget about him. Haven’t you ever lost anyone?”

Ishyeal froze. Then, after a moment, he whispered, “Twenty-seven.”

“What?” I blinked at him. “Twenty-seven…people? You mean, you’ve lost that many…?”

“Not people, Keras.” Ishyeal closed his eyes. “Planets.”

I stared at him for a moment, processing the enormity of the statement he’d just made.

“Then…” My mouth opened and closed, but failed to continue the question.

Ishyeal answered for me regardless. “I am not from Kaldwyn. Nor Mythralis, like you. I am not from the world of Venaya at all.” His eyes flickered open, and when they did, they burned with a glowing light I’d seen before. “I am Ishyeal Dawnsglow. And I have come here to save this world. I will not fail.” After a moment, he paused, his eyes glowing even brighter. “Not again.”

“…Oh.” I took a deep breath. “You’ve really…”

“I have traveled across the stars for many years, seeking to stop the Sun Eater’s progress. Each and every world has stood guard against him, with gods and mortals alike raising sword and spell to bar his passage. And each and every time, we have failed. No more. I cannot risk it. This must be our final stand.”

“Why? I mean, I’m not going to complain about you trying to save my world, of course, but what’s the significance of this one?”

“Because,” Ishyeal gave me a soft smile. “After this world falls…my home will be the next. Some of his agents have already begun arriving there. I am almost out of time.”

“Oh.”

We sat a moment in silence, then, while I processed.

I had known there were other worlds. I had known about the Sun Eater’s destruction of Rendalir. I’d known that he might be free again, that he might be coming, but…

Twenty-seven planets.

How could I possibly fight someone with that degree of power? How could anyone?

I looked at Ishyeal’s eyes and saw that inner light. That determination.

He hadn’t given up, even after personally witnessing the end of so many worlds.

I took a breath and asked, “What can we do to stop him?”

“I don’t know,” Ishyeal admitted. “I came here to speak to the gods of this world, with hopes that they could repel him. I did not expect to see the Dominion Breaker here. Perhaps I should see that as an opportunity, but the risks…if it ever fell into his hands…”

“I would destroy it before that happened.” I said the words automatically, without thinking.

His head tilted to the side quizzically. “That is quite a bold claim. Could you do such a thing?”

“Yes,” I replied, finding a certain strange certainty. “I could. But…I don’t think that I will.”

“It might be safer. I would be more willing to work with you.”

“No.” I shook my head. “Sorry. You’re right that this sword brings terrible risks. But, if what you said is true, it may also be one of our only chances to fight. I won’t abandon that so easily.”

There was another element to that I didn’t say.

It wouldn’t matter if he trusted me after I destroyed the sword—

I wouldn’t survive it.

“I see.” Ishyeal nodded. “Then, you’ll forgive me if I continue to keep my distance. I would prefer not to put you in any situation where your weapon could fall into the hands of the Devouring Darkness or his people. If you refuse to destroy it, you are more of a liability than an asset. I do not mean to disparage your abilities, but another fighter of your strength is not a worthwhile trade for the consequences if your sword found its way to his hands.”

“I can’t agree with your strategy. I’m already on Akadi’s target list. Even if you ignore me, he’s going to come for me at some point.”

Ishyeal grimaced. “You are, unfortunately, right about that. The Sun Eater does not tolerate failure. Akadi would come for you at some point for that alone, but if he realizes that you have the Dominion Breaker…he’ll see that as an opportunity. He’s no fool — he’ll wait until he thinks you’re weak and vulnerable, then use that chance to try to kill you. Then, he’ll claim both your body and the sword.”

“I should go after him before he has a chance to ambush me, then. Strike first, eliminate the threat. If you could tell me how to find him…”

Ishyeal seemed to consider that for a moment, then shook his head again. “There’s merit to what you’re saying, if he hasn’t realized what you’re wielding already, it’s safest to avoid any further chances for him to do so. Even if you killed him, if you use the Dominion Breaker, there’s a chance his allies could investigate the nature of his death and discover that you have the weapon. I should have prevented your involvement before this point.”

“You can’t put all this burden on yourself alone. I could help you, if you’d let me.”

“No. That’s how it must be.” He shook his head. “You asked before if I’d lost anyone — of course. I’ve worked with countless people. Friends. Romantic partners. Companions. They all end the same way…just as your own friend did.”

“I…I’m sorry.” I reached out to offer him a comforting touch, but he pulled away. I withdrew my hand. “I can’t imagine what that must be like. But the task you’ve spoken of is not something a single person can handle alone. You must understand that.”

Ishyeal slowly nodded. “You’re right. Eventually, I must choose new allies. I must face the fact that I may…will…lose some of them again. But, so long as you carry that sword,” his eyes shifted to the hilt of the Dominion Breaker, still disguised, “you will not be among them. I will not allow it.”

“We can coordinate, at least, even if you won’t fight with me. The crystals that Akadi has been using, for example. We can figure out how to handle those together.”

He shrugged. “You can have the crystals. I’ve completed the purification process on this one. I sense spiritual essence within the remains of the fragment, but no shade. Akadi’s influence over it is gone.” He retrieved a sliver of crimson from a pocket and tossed it to me. I caught it, feeling the flame and spirit essence within.

I reached out with my mind immediately, seeking any hint of Vendria within. I felt something, but it was distant. Weak.

Vendria was a seasonal goddess. This particular piece corresponded to the summer, and it wasn’t her season. She was likely sleeping.

And, of course, there was the fact that this was only a tiny piece. The rest remained in Xiaofan’s scythe. I didn’t know if I had enough to find her consciousness in this piece alone.

Trying to wake her up while she’s incomplete might be a bad idea. May be best to wait until she’s closer to whole.

Unfortunately, I didn’t know how to fix the damaged crystals, even if I had the pieces. I sincerely doubted that ordinary stone shaping would work.

“Thank you.” I slipped the crystal away into my bag. “I’m surprised you’d let it go without an argument.”

He shrugged. “Consider it an apology for my evasiveness. But that said, don’t follow me again.”

“Can’t promise that. We still have one more bit of business, at a minimum. Are you still willing to purify the other part of the crystal if I get the scythe?”

“Fine, I can do that. But I’d advise you against trying too hard on that right now. The Edrians have their own agenda, and you’d best not involve yourself in it too heavily. It would be better to allow them to pursue their own hunt.”

“You think they will handle Akadi on their own?”

“Ideally.” Ishyeal shrugged. “I may assist them. But you should stay away.”

I shifted to sitting with my back straight. Ishyeal still towered over me. “I will fight Akadi and the other followers of the Sun Eater, with or without your approval.”

“Well,” his hands tightened. “Then try not to die.”

***

The conversation concluded quickly after that. Ishyeal transported me back to the arena island proper, and after a few minutes of dizziness, I made my way back to the Study of Iron for my next talk.

I wasn’t visiting Reika this time. I knocked at a different door.

“Come in,” Grandmother Iron replied.

I entered her office, bowing politely in the way I’d seen the other students do.

“No need for that formality. What do you need?” She gestured at a pillow, and I sat on it as directed.

“I’d like to borrow the amulet for training.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Can I assume you’re talking about Diamantine’s amulet?”

I nodded to her. “Yes.”

“And why, in the goddess’ name, would I allow you to borrow the amulet for training?”

“We’re very nearly at the end of the tournament. If things progress as they are, I will reach the final round.”

“Potentially. I won’t deny that it’s possible.” She frowned. “You’re advancing in power far faster than any ordinary person should be able to. You’re likely to leave Walter and the others in the dust before this tournament ends…if you haven’t already. I don’t know how you’re gaining strength as quickly as you are, but you should not be overconfident. Even if you continue to progress rapidly, even the strongest fighter has weaknesses.”

“Agreed. That’s part of why I’m here.” I glanced upward toward the location of Meilin’s room. “Ari and Xiaofan both went to the Earth Temple to seek a bond to protect themselves against Diamantine. But you already had the amulet for that purpose.”

“I did,” Iron confirmed.

“Then, that implies to me that you don’t think the amulet is likely to provide complete protection on its own. Maybe each amulet defends against one ability, or each only offers partial resistance against all of Diamantine’s powers.”

“A bit of both, I suspect. Every amulet functions slightly differently. Admittedly, I do not know exactly how much protection they would provide. We planned for redundancy.”

I snapped my fingers. “Exactly. That’s my plan as well.”

Iron raised an eyebrow. “What exactly are you intending? I could see wanting the amulet to test how it works. I don’t see how testing it would offer extra defense, just information.”

“I do want information, but there’s more to it. You’re aware my abilities aren’t based on an attunement. You’re familiar with how dominion sorcerers train with items?”

Iron frowned. “Ah. I see your intention now — you believe you could learn how to copy the defensive spells in the amulet and use them without it? Perhaps layer the effects with the amulet itself? Hm. Possible in theory, but…with so little time remaining…”

“I think I could do it. I’ve…always had a knack for picking up abilities from items. Perhaps more importantly, I’m already a stone sorcerer. You’ve seen me reverse petrification before.”

“True, but Diamantine’s powers are not from stone alone.”

“I can also reshape crystals like those the Green Guardian uses, which I believe are related to the same dominion that Diamantine uses. We call it construction or density.”

Iron reached up to unconsciously place a hand over her heart, where presumably the amulet sat concealed beneath her shirt. “You may have the skill to do this, but I remain…hesitant. If you chose to take the amulet and simply leave, I do not believe I could stop you. I’m not certain anyone here could. Not anymore.”

I was a bit surprised by her admission. “I wouldn’t walk off with it. You’ve been kind to me, and beyond that, I am not a thief.”

“Perhaps. But you will forgive an old woman for a bit of due caution when it comes to the last thing of value she possesses.”

I thought to say something about her students being something of value, but I stopped myself. It obviously wasn’t what she was talking about, and I’d just insult her by implying that. “I understand. Would you be willing to consider it? Perhaps if I kept the training to this facility, under your observation?”

“No.” She shook her head. “I’ve made my choice.”

She shifted her collar, then reached in and unfastened her amulet. Then, unceremoniously, she tossed it to me. “Train in any way you wish with it. If this can serve to help you grow even stronger, it is ultimately worth the risk. I will only ask you to return it if you fail to make it to the final round, so that I may pass it on to someone who does.”

“Thank you, Grandmother.” I slipped the amulet on reverently, concealing it beneath my own shirt in the same way that Iron had.

I’d have to make sure I didn’t wear it at the same time with Shining Alone, the Pale King’s amulet — they were both worn around the neck and would likely interfere with each other. I’d never expected to be in a situation where having too many magical items was a problem, but at least it was a good problem to have.

After securing the necklace in place, I stood. “I’ll do my best to make you proud.”

“I know you will, child. And remember, the amulet isn’t completely active. Some of the basic abilities will work, but if you are the one who makes it to the final round, you must come see me beforehand so that I can make it completely functional again.”

“I understand.” I bowed again, more reverently this time. “Thank you again, Grandmother.”

“Go. Train. And one day…” Iron gave me a look that burned with resolve. “Break the crown that crushes our nation.”

***

I was already wearing what felt like an excessive amount of magical equipment, but I wasn’t done trying to get more.

My primary plan for the private training facility was to safely practice using the Dominion Breaker, but that wasn’t the only thing I needed to work on. I had around a week before the next tournament round, and I still wasn’t planning to use that sword — or my aura — against other contestants if I could avoid it.

If I wanted to win against people like Ishyeal and the Green Guardian in the final rounds, I couldn’t focus on the Dominion Breaker alone. I needed to work on a new type of training now that I finally had the resources for it.

I had over twelve thousand silver to work with. With that kind of money, I could purchase a considerable number of magical items. And with new magical items, I could theoretically generate more mana in my body over the course of the next week.

I was tempted to focus on a single large item, but even with all that money, I couldn’t have afforded a single Emerald-level object. That really put things into context; people who could afford Emerald-level gear had to be absolutely rich by my standards.

It also made me realize just how expensive some of my own equipment would have been if I tried to buy it outright. My tournament rewards represented more wealth than I’d ever owned by a large margin. I mean, aside from the Dominion Breaker. You can’t really put a price tag on an item like that.

Anyway, with Emerald-level gear being out of the question, I decided to focus on picking up several smaller things. I wasn’t sure if my body would adapt to several different types of magical items at once, but I was certainly going to give it a shot.

First thing I picked up was an “Adventurer’s Security Bag”. It was a fairly simple concept; the bag was enchanted to prevent itself and the items within from being damaged. It wasn’t foolproof, but if it could help prevent my potion bottles from being smashed, it was a worthwhile investment. Moreover, it would help protect any items stored inside from my own aura. That was a growing necessity, especially if I was going to be practicing with my sword more.

It cost me two hundred silver. The shopkeeper tried to upsell me on a “Dimensional Bag” that stored items in an extra-dimensional space for ten times that cost, but in spite of the temptation, I couldn’t justify the expense.

I was running out of places to put magical items where they wouldn’t interfere with each other, so that meant either finding obscure locations, items that didn’t cause interference, or simply accepting that I wasn’t going to be able to wear them all at the same time.

I decided to start with the simplest approach and cover one area that I hadn’t really handled yet: my boots.

I sincerely considered buying Boots of Superior Speed, a Citrine-level item that used transference, air, and perception mana to vastly increase the wearer’s running speed.

Improving my speed had been my primary goal since before the start of the competition, and while I’d managed to do that through improving my bond with Dawn, I still could have potentially improved it further through picking up some transference mana.

Unfortunately, I was currently wearing and training with several enhancement mana items. Trying to flood my body with transference mana was a risky prospect at best. I didn’t think seriously hurting myself was likely, but I did think it was likely that trying to train opposite mana types at the same time would slow my overall growth.

Instead, I picked up something much more obscure — Planelock Boots. They had an excessively simple but powerful function; when clicked together, they temporarily nullified teleportation from affecting the wearer or anyone within about fifteen feet. They could be disabled by clicking the heels together again.

They were expensive, costing me a massive forty-five hundred silver, but worth it.

Offensive teleportation was one of my greatest weaknesses. A Wayfarer had beaten me in one of my anonymous matches simply by teleporting me out of bounds. Ishyeal probably could have done the same thing trivially if he had wanted to.

My gradually improving magic resistance and Ring of Spell Deflection would help with that, but I didn’t feel like they were enough to be a guarantee.

More importantly, the boots didn’t just work on me. With them active, I could both prevent my allies from being offensively teleported and I could try to keep my enemies stuck in one place.

Against someone like Ishyeal, I knew that could be a crucial advantage.

And more importantly, it would be truly necessary against someone like Akadi, who almost certainly had teleportation magic and the desire to flee the battlefield if hard-pressed.

When I encountered Akadi next, I wanted the weapons to ensure that it would be our final battle.

Given the cost, I made sure they had a reasonable return policy and immediately went to check if they worked.

I briefly hired a Wayfarer to test them for me, which cost another hundred silver, but proved that they’d function — at least against a Sunstone-level opponent. The Wayfarer told me that she thought the boots would protect me against even high-level offensive teleportation, but that the effect would be weaker against anyone else. It would interfere with teleportation for others, but she couldn’t guarantee it would prevent the effect completely.

That was good enough. If it took a few extra seconds for Akadi to flee, I would use those moments to end him.

The boots had also been advertised as having “reduced interference with other items”. Apparently, that had something to do with preventing excess mana from leaking out of the item into the surrounding environment, but I was a little skeptical. A few more tests showed that they didn’t seem to prevent me from using the Ring of Flame Twisting I was wearing as a toe ring, which was good enough for me. Figuring out more would have required more time and money on diagnostic magic that I didn’t feel like bothering with. It did, however, remind me that I needed to be careful not to buy too many magical items — eventually, interference was going to be a problem if I kept stacking on more equipment.

Next, I spent five hundred silver on an Escape Bell. It was an upgraded variant on the ever-popular Return Bell used to teleport out from spires in an emergency, but it had two slight differences. First, it was able to be used in areas with slightly lower mana density than a spire. It still wouldn’t work in ordinary regions, but it would work in some other high-density areas — including, I suspected, the test areas for our challenges. Second, it was designed to overcome low to mid-level items and wards that blocked teleportation. This would allow me, in theory, to teleport back to the bell’s anchor even from some rooms that were designed to be inescapable. And, more importantly, it would let me escape using the bell while the Planelock Boots were active.

I didn’t buy this because I intended to escape any fights — it was an added precaution for some training on my agenda.

With that last major purchase, I bought an assortment of much weaker magical items and put them in my bag. They cost me another thousand silver in total. I wasn’t going to wear them — I had other plans.

Then, the next day, it was finally time to try out my new training ground.

CHAPTER XI – LOST LEGACY

The pin that Hannah had given me got me through the front entrance into the Royal Retreat — albeit with some hard looks from the guards — and directions to the training facility.

The “Lost Halls” were surprisingly easy to find. Or, at least, the exterior building was. I presumed the name of the facility came from the whole extra-dimensional space thing that they specialized in.

The outside of the building was featureless white stone with solid black doors. I couldn’t see any runes scribbled into those walls, but I could feel something as I approached — a heavy aura of shadow magic in the air that felt similar to the suppressing fields in certain tournament areas. Presumably, it served as a security measure.

Dawn wouldn’t like this place. It’s probably better that she isn’t with me.

It was a feeble way to console myself about her absence, but it had some degree of truth to it. That sort of aura always made her uncomfortable.

The front entrance didn’t have any visible guards. Instead, there was a symbol on the door, and when I pressed the pin I’d been given against it, the door swung open.

Inside, the structure was much more like a conventional office. There was a front desk with an attendant behind it, hallways to the left and right, and a few assorted chairs. This room finally had some visible guards — a man and a woman about my age wearing pristine white uniforms with the facility’s symbol, an open gateway, on their right side. They both were wearing swords on their belts, but not in any position to use them. They were just sitting in two of the chairs and playing some kind of board game.

“Master Selyrian, I presume?” the attendant asked.

“That’s me.” I waved a hand as I walked over to the counter.

“Thank you for coming, we’ve been expecting you. I’m Thomas, and I’ll be assisting you today. Can I please see your identification sigil, or any other form of government identification, so we can confirm your identity before you begin?”

I blinked. “Yeah, sure.” I handed over my sigil. If I’d been a more paranoid sort like Corin, I might have been concerned about the idea that this facility could somehow steal my points or copy my identity, but I didn’t worry about it.

Not because I didn’t consider it — I did. But I’d also seen the face of the person taking my pin. If he stole something from me, well, he’d have consequences to deal with.

Thomas ran my identification sigil through some kind of magical device, then handed it back to me. “Thank you for confirming your identity, Master Selyrian. Would you care for any refreshments before you begin?”

I shook my head. “No, I’ve already eaten. Thank you.”

“Very well, then. Right this way.”

Thomas led me down the left hall to a door. We passed a couple more uniformed guards along the way, as well as another attendant leading a customer — an exceptionally well-dressed man that was probably some kind of duke or something — out of the building. I thought I heard the attendant drop the name “Kjell”, which is one of the Edrian archduchies, but I didn’t recognize the guy at a glance.

When we stopped, the attendant handed me another pin and pointed at the door. “You’ll use your pin to access this like the front gate, as well as a code. See the symbols here?”

There were nine glowing runes on the wall next to the doorway. “Sure. Some kind of password?”

“Precisely. Even with the pin, you’ll be required to enter the eight-digit code each time you enter. If you forget it, you can come to the front desk, but they’ll need to verify your identity before giving you the code. Please do not give your code or pin to anyone else — this training facility is reserved for you alone.”

“And if I wanted to bring a guest?” I’d hoped to bring Reika at some point after I’d finished doing my Dominion Breaker training, although that was somewhat less likely now that I could feel the oppressive aura in the air.

“You may bring one guest at a time, and they’ll need to be identified and logged at the front desk.”

“Got it.” I nodded.

“Any other questions before I begin an explanation of our facility’s features?”

“No, go ahead. I might have more afterward.”

Thomas nodded. “Excellent. Here at the Lost Halls, we pride ourselves on offering a variety of training experiences for all levels of combat ability. Once inside your private room, you will meet with your team of assistants.”

“Assistants? Wait, is someone else going to be in there with me?” That sounded like it would completely invalidate my plans.

“Not inside the actual training hall. This door leads to the staging area where your assistants will be staying and monitoring your activities through a scrying apparatus. This allows them to accurately evaluate your needs and, in the case of a medical emergency, provide you with immediate medical help.”

I frowned. I didn’t like the idea of random people seeing what I was planning to test. “Can I maybe…not have people watching me? I have techniques I’d prefer to keep private.”

“Ah, yes. Of course, we can accommodate that and disable the scrying apparatus, but that would be at your personal risk. It would also be more difficult for your assistants to provide you with the necessary adjustments to any training routines that you require.”

I nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind. What else are the assistants there for?”

“They can provide you with food and drink as needed, either within the chamber or outside of it. They can also adjust the mana levels in each area to simulate a variety of environments — spires, ordinary towns, and low-magic regions. One of your assistants will be in charge of conjuring opponents for you to fight if you desired, with varying levels of challenge and sophistication.”

“That’s…very impressive.”

Thomas smiled. “We pride ourselves on providing the highest quality training services. Oh, as a final note, terrain adjustments are possible, but require a number of hours. We apologize for any inconvenience this may cause.”

“That’s fine, I don’t think I’ll need any. At least, not for now.”

“Excellent. Then I’ll show you the code for entry and we can go meet your team.”

***

Thomas showed me the code, let me use my pin to open the door, then gestured for me to walk inside. I headed into the room, finding a large, comfortable waiting area. There were four people working inside — one uniformed guard and three people in long work coats with the same symbol. All of them had visible attunements of some kind.

I was beginning to see why renting one of these places cost a fortune.

After that, I got some quick introductions to the rest of my “team”.

Jonas was my designated medic. He was an older, dark-skinned man with an easy smile and a Biomancer attunement. Apparently, that was a foreign attunement, but he was a local who had simply ended up with it somehow.

Li Qiyang was a younger guy with thick glasses and a distinctive scar on his forehead. He had some kind of divination-focused attunement, but I didn’t catch the name of it. Seer, maybe? Anyway, he was responsible for monitoring me and taking any requests to adjust specific conditions in the training area.

Finally, Wang Xue was a young Conjurer that was there to, well, conjure stuff. Specifically, phantasmal versions of arena fighters or monsters for me to train against.

“Are these conjurations illusions or more like summoned monsters?” I asked.

“They’re somewhere in between,” Xue explained. “They’re autonomous like summons, but they don’t really think. They’re pure instinct. They can give you a fight, but not a conversation.”

“No pain or emotions, then?”

Xue looked a little hurt by the question. “Regrettably, no. If you need targets for testing compulsion or emotional manipulation magic, we can arrange for a Summoner for you instead.”

“Oh, no.” I shook my head, realizing she’d misunderstood my intent. “I was just worried about hurting them by accident. I have, uh, some very dangerous techniques I’m going to be testing. This is better.”

“Oh.” Her expression brightened. “That’s…good, then.” Xue still looked a little self-conscious, but relieved.

After a few more minutes of discussion, we set up the training hall with its initial conditions — extremely low mana density and no other contents inside the training hall. When I called out that I was ready, they would begin deploying conjured monsters for me to fight.

I was planning to ask them to stop monitoring me when I started using the Dominion Breaker, but I wanted to get a feel for the area first. And honestly? I couldn’t pass up the chance to fight some conjured monsters guilt-free while I had the chance.

With that set up, I stepped through the final door into my very own Lost Hall.

***

Immediately after stepping through the door, I could feel the difference in the air. The oppressive aura of shadow was gone, and I could move more freely — but the air felt dry, somehow, like I was in the middle of a desert.

It didn’t look like a desert, though. I was standing inside a small building with a chair, a table with a flask of water atop it, and some weapons hanging on the wall. There were two doors — one behind me that led back into the facility, and one ahead that led outside of the tiny building. That latter door was open, and beyond that there was…nothing. Just empty space. The sky itself, if it could be called that, was stark white like the ground.

The emptiness seemed to go on forever. If I wandered out too far into that absolute sameness outside and got turned around, I didn’t know if I could ever find my way back.

How far does it go?

I couldn’t see an end to it. If there were distant walls somewhere, they were beyond my ability to perceive.

It was, in short, perfect. I’d have to walk out a ways to test with the Dominion Breaker without worrying about destroying the small building — and honestly, there was a good chance I’d destroy it anyway — but beyond that, there was nothing I really had to worry about.

Finally, there was a place where I could really cut loose.

[Can you hear me?]

Li Qiyang’s voice echoed in the air around me.

“Yep. This place is amazing!” I stepped outside, drawing the Pale Crescent.

[Excellent. Would you like to begin?]

“Absolutely.” I cracked my neck, then began to do some warm-up stretches.

[What should we send in for you to fight first?]

I grinned. “Surprise me.”

A few moments later, a shadowy duplicate of Reika stepped through the doorway into the training area, her hands immediately shapeshifting into claws.

Oh, this is going to be fun.

***

I danced backward, avoiding a swing from a manticore’s spiked tail, then grabbed the tail and stabbed it into the creature’s side. The manticore howled silently in faux-agony — none of the shades made any sound, nor did they experience actual pain — and swung its jaws at me, but I was still moving too fast. I side-stepped, sweeping the Pale Crescent just under the creature’s jaw.

My blade bit into the spongy substance that the conjured shades all consisted of, then the monster vanished.

I grinned broadly, reaching up to wipe the sweat off my forehead with an arm. “Next!”

[We are…unfortunately…going to have to insist on a break. Both for your own health, and, uh, because our backup Conjurer has run out of mana. There are no more Conjurers available at this time. We sincerely apologize for the inconvenience.]

I hadn’t even realized they’d switched Conjurers. How long had it been?

“That’s fine, I suppose we can take a quick break.”

I heard a muffled sound of something like a relieved breath across the connection.

I hadn’t even tested the Dominion Breaker yet. Fighting the shades had just been entirely too much fun.

Beyond that, there was a practical application to this sort of training. While these monsters spawned by Conjurers weren’t the same as ruinshades, they were extraordinarily similar. If I was going to fight Akadi and the Sun Eater, training against shades of any kind was a valuable exercise — and I’d learned quite a bit in the process. Both through fighting, and through questions I’d asked earlier.

“How are you making copies of arena fighters?”

[These are not like summoned monsters – they don’t require a contract. More powerful Conjurers can make more convincing shades with samples from a person or monster, but you can think of these as purely imaginary constructs. They’re examples of what the Conjurer thinks a monster or person would be like, not the reality.]

That was an important distinction, since it meant that I didn’t have to worry about the same kind of ethical issues I had with the Spirit Gateway Crystal making copies of Lydia and Velas without their consent. The Conjurer wasn’t sampling actual shades or spirits; it was more like an artist drawing a picture. Maybe someone could have still objected to that, but I didn’t have a real issue with it.

If fact, I was intrigued by the possibilities. “Could you make a Conjured shade copy of me?”

[Yes, but it would be more convincing the more data we collect. And, of course, it would be limited by the power and imagination of the Conjurer.]

“Excellent. Maybe toward the end of our training, then, when you’ve seen more of me in action.”

I quickly found that the conjured shades didn’t have access to exactly the same magic that the original versions of people or creatures did, but they could manage weaker facsimiles by using shade magic to duplicate virtually any type of effect. This wasn’t particularly surprising to me: back at home, shade magic and dream magic were famous for being the most common methods of attempting to copy spells.

My friend Lydia had done some work using dream magic for that very purpose, but she wasn’t a master of it. Wrynn was probably an even better example — her shade and spirit magic combination was all about duplication, and she was fantastically skilled at it. It made Wrynn one of the most formidable people I’d ever met, and I hadn’t seen her at anything close to the pinnacle of her power.

“Why use Conjurers for all this, rather than Shapers? Can’t they make simulacra that are closer to identical to the real thing?”

[Ah, you’re Valian, right. Shapers are definitely the best at making identical copies, but they need the person to be there at the time they’re making it. And that’s a high-level ability: we do have some Shapers that can do that, but it’s a Citrine-and-higher level skill. Conjurers are more like your Shadows — they’re not as good at perfect copies, but they’re much more flexible in terms of the conditions for making them.]

I honestly barely knew anything about Shadows making copies of people, so I decided to lean into the “foreigner from Valia” thing and ask more. “What’s the difference between these and the copies that Shadows make?”

[Shadows can create solid illusions of people, objects, and environments. They’re great at being able to make an entire illusory scene, but their illusions of people generally require manual control from the Shadow. Higher-level Shadows sometimes have workarounds, but essentially, they have to puppet their illusionary people, generally limiting them to one illusionary individual at a time. Their illusions are usually pretty fragile, too — they’ll usually disperse after a few solid hits, especially from light magic. Conjured copies are a little more resilient.]

With all that context, their use of conjured shades as their primary tool made sense. All the methods had advantages and downsides, but I agreed that Conjurers seemed best for this type of training.

I wonder if that means Meilin can create solid illusions of people? I know her Shadow attunement is lower-level, but if she can do that, it might be a useful trick.

Anyway, the shades were an extraordinary training tool, even without the other things the facility had to offer. I took a break, hydrated and chatted with the team, and then made a decision.

“Please turn off your scrying device for a bit. I’m going to test a private technique. I’ll be doing that several times today.”

After telling them that, I told them to send a medical team if they hadn’t heard from me in five minutes. Then, I made sure they disabled the device and headed back into the extra-dimensional training area.

I slipped on my mask, just for redundancy, and stepped as far from the entrance as I could while keeping the building in sight. Then, I took one of the greatest risks I’d managed up to that point in my career.

“Burn.” I conjured a flame, letting it hover in mid-air.

Then, I stepped back, drawing the Dominion Breaker with my left hand, and took a deep breath. I closed my eyes, focusing, and pulled the sword’s destructive aura into the blade as much as physically possible. If the runes hadn’t been hidden, they all would have been gleaming brightly. The sword’s power was as contained as it could be — but that didn’t make it safe. I was just making sure the aura didn’t destroy the sphere before I did the dangerous part.

My sword arced downward in a movement I’d practiced a thousand times. The moment the metal met flame, I unleashed a power that had long waited to be free.

Spell Breaker.

I’d braced myself for an explosion, of course. I’d known the technique could cause a spell to detonate — that was the whole point. I’d prepared to shape flame.

I’d prepared wrong.

When my humble sphere detonated, there was no roaring explosion.

Instead, there was a flash of crimson and silver light as the world around me was torn asunder by the flash of a thousand blazing blades. It was absurdly fast — far too fast for me to consciously shape, even if I’d been prepared to shift the right type of energy.

A moment later, I was falling. The ground beneath me had been simultaneously melted and shredded, and I was rapidly falling into a pool of still-molten stone several meters below.

It was only at that point that my flame shaping came in handy — I ripped the heat out of the stone as best I could, landing on merely sizzling rock rather than in liquid magma. Even then, my boots might have burned through if not for their own enchantments, as well as the ring that protected my entire body from fire.

As I recovered, I gawked at the scale of the devastation. I’d obliterated dozens of meters of terrain in an instant. I’d seen more powerful attacks — things like what Hartigan had managed with the lake — but the damage the explosion had caused had been impossibly fast and overwhelmingly complete.

And I’d used the smallest bit of fire I could conjure to do it.

Awkwardly, I checked my own body, and found not a hint of harm. Not to me, not to my possessions. I hadn’t managed to consciously shape the explosion, so either I’d somehow managed to reshape it subconsciously, or my aura had simply deflected the blast. I didn’t have enough information to say, but the latter seemed more likely.

The devastation I’d wrought didn’t quite reach the building. Quickly, I reshaped the ground to give myself the ability to climb back out. I didn’t want a medical team rushing into this area and seeing what I’d done.

Can…I even repair that? No, not a chance.

I had to hope that I wouldn’t be charged for the damage. It’s possible I should have looked more closely at the paperwork.

At least I hadn’t obliterated the building or the gateway — that would have been far worse.

I exhaled a deep breath as I stepped back into the building, slipped my mask off, and then walked through the door back into the core plane.

“So…” I began, “What exactly does it take to repair, uh, serious damage to the terrain outside? Asking hypothetically, of course.”

***

There was not, in fact, a charge for repairing the “outdoor” area in the extra-dimensional space. Damage was a routine and expected part of the training process…although I don’t think anyone was prepared for the scale of the devastation I’d caused.

Li Qiyang, who seemed to be the one overall in charge of the team assigned to me, gave me a longer explanation. “It may…take some time to repair your chamber entirely. In the meantime, we can relocate you to a different training room, but we must ask that you refrain from using other techniques with that level of damage potential for the moment.”

He gave me an apologetic look. “While we repair your original room, we will call in a barrier expert to build additional defenses to your specifications. This will require about two days. We regret any inconvenience from this delay.”

“No problem. I can, uh, hold back a bit for the next couple days.”

With that, we relocated to a different, seemingly identical training chamber.

I spent much of the rest of the day training against a broad variety of shades and contemplating just how plausible it would be to continue testing the Dominion Breaker’s techniques.

If the Spell Breaker technique causes mana to detonate, would barriers just make it worse?

I couldn’t be sure until I tried it. One thing was certain — I was going to have to be a lot more careful next time.

***

I spent the next couple days focusing on training with my new equipment.

The Sharpshift Scabbard was the easiest one to test. First, I had the training facility set up some stone pillars outside of the main building. Next, I tested the depth that I could cut into the stone with the Pale Crescent without using the scabbard, both with casual cuts and swinging at full strength.

Full strength quickly proved to be “through the entire pillar”, so I had to abandon that particular metric. But with some patience, I made dozens of cuts in the side of a pillar with a similar degree of force behind each swing — then I tested using the same amount of effort after sheathing the weapon and activating the sharpening effect.

This wasn’t a perfect test, of course. I had excellent control, but I wasn’t infallible, and I couldn’t ensure I was putting in exactly the same amount of force with each swing. Still, the effect was noticeable; that first cut with the sharpness effect active tore straight through stone with tremendous ease. The Pale Crescent’s enchantments were formidable even without it, but with the scabbard active, it was almost as easy as cutting things with the Sae’kes.

Almost.

It had great synergy with the Aayaran Instant Striking style — one of the combat styles I’d learned back in Selyr, which focused on a quick draw and eliminating an opponent in a single cut. That was Taer’vys’ preferred style, but it wasn’t mine. I preferred to have my sword out in advance, holding it straight toward my opponent as a deterrent. This both reflected my preference for large weapons, where my reach was an advantage, and my tendency to try to give my enemies a chance to surrender.

Still, even if the scabbard wasn’t a perfect fit for my combat style, I couldn’t deny that it would be useful.

Next, I toyed with the Burden Band. It was getting heavier and heavier each day — apparently, it hadn’t been fully charged when they’d given it to me. I now understood why they’d given me a special box for it; the box itself was enchanted to prevent the ring from ripping right through it when dropped inside. After a few days, if I dropped the ring on the ground, it would crack solid stone.

Just lifting the ring and tossing it back and forth was an amusing type of weight training, but I had other things in mind.

“Burden Band: Cling.” As the note had explained, the burden band launched a net-like field of force that clung to whatever it was pointed at.

In this case, I’d pointed it straight at myself.

The crushing weight of the ring blasted outward and wrapped around me, threatening to pull me to the ground. If I had an ordinary amount of strength, I probably would have been smashed straight to the ground.

As it was, I simply stumbled as the phantasmal field covered me, then straightened and said, “Send in the next shade.”

For the next hour or so, I trained with the added weight from the ring dragging me down.

This wasn’t a muscle-building exercise, although it might have helped a bit with that. It was, instead, a way for me to practice a couple critical skills I couldn’t easily test otherwise.

First, it allowed me to try to shape Burden Band’s clinging net rapidly. This was trickier than it sounded; I had shaped crystal before (which involved density), and I had access to enhancement sorcery, but I hadn’t really worked with a phantasmal field of this type before.

By the end of the training session, I was able to shift the weight of the field around, or even move some small segments of it off of me if I chose to — but slowly. It wasn’t practical in combat. I’d have to try it again each day to try to make enough progress to make it feasible in the future.

Training that way would theoretically build up my skill and power with both of those sorcery types, but even that wasn’t my primary goal.

I was preparing to bear the Weight of the World.

It was only a matter of weeks from when I’d have to fight Edria Song if I won the tournament, and I needed to prepare countermeasures for every one of Diamantine’s skills. This type of magic was so similar to Diamantine’s that it served as an excellent form of practice. I expected Diamantine’s version to be stronger, but as long as I acclimated to the Burden Band’s weight, I could more easily withstand Diamantine’s.

Next, I tried out the Bladebreaker Bracers. This was fairly trivial to test; I had the facility send in some shades with weapons, then practiced blocking and breaking those weapons with the bracers. Ordinary weapons shattered easily, as expected. I was able to break about ten swords before the bracers needed to recharge.

Then, I fixed the broken weapons and returned them to the facility. This was both a nice thing to do and a simple way to keep in practice with my metal sorcery.

I’d already tested the Planelock Boots privately earlier, so I didn’t do too much with them at the facility. I didn’t want to show off every trick I had available to the people there — they were almost undoubtedly going to report what I was doing back to Hannah, after all.

The last of my new items was Diamantine’s amulet. I was wearing it, but if it worked like I suspected, I didn’t have any good way to test it on my own. I planned to try hiring someone to cast petrification spells on me sometime, but it wasn’t the right time.

On the end of the second day, I invited Reika and Dawn to join me in the Lost Halls, and specifically requested that they arrange for multiple Conjurers for that time frame.

Then, together, we stood against a tide of summoned shades.

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had that much fun.

When Reika and I went back to the Study of Iron that night, exhausted and covered in sweat, I almost — almost — invited her to come back to stay in my room that night. But as much fun as the evening had been, I could tell that she was still hurting, and it didn’t feel like quite the right time.

Instead, I simply cleaned off and went to sleep. Things were getting a bit better, one step at a time.

***

The next day, the training area had finally been set up with barriers. They also had the barrier-maker on standby in case I wanted to ask for more of them.

First off, they’d enchanted the building itself. A good precaution, under normal circumstances.

Then, there was a protective ring of runes all around the building, creating a dome-shaped barrier around it. There was another ring about another hundred meters further out from the building, creating another layer of protection.

Finally, there was a tiny ring with a much denser layer of runes about two hundred meters away from the building. The intent was for me to stand inside that ring to test the technique.

I don’t get nervous often. It’s just not how I operate — I tend to charge head-first into danger. You may have noticed.

This time, though, I had concerns. Was it wise to even try this? I’d seen what a single mote of flame had accomplished when I’d detonated it. If those barriers combusted…

I ran some estimates in my head for what the mana amounts of those barriers might be compared to the fire I’d conjured. At a guess, the barriers they’d erected around the building and the training ground ahead of it were probably about a hundred thousand times more mana.

If all of that detonated?

In a worst case scenario, I’d carve a hole straight down and end up falling for miles. Even with Body of Iron, I didn’t like my odds of making it out of that unscathed…and that was assuming the ground even went that deep. In a weird extra-dimensional space, if there wasn’t thick enough terrain…maybe I’d just end up falling forever or something. That would be awkward.

But that wasn’t even my biggest concern. No, my real problem was what would happen to the portal back to the core plane if my explosion reached it.

Would the detonation from the spell destroy the portal? Would it go through the portal?

I couldn’t justify that kind of risk. So, I took some additional precautions.

First, I went back into the building and asked them to set up a protective ring even further away from the exit. After some discussion, we settled on a full mile. They wouldn’t tell me how big the extra-dimensional space was, but apparently it was at least several miles in size.

At the same time, they marked a path between the exit and the defensive ring, so that I could find my way back if I made a larger crater and got lost.

After some more math, I realized that even the new barrier they’d constructed could lead me to falling virtually forever, so I had them make the outermost barrier weaker. They seemed a little surprised and confused by the request, but they weakened it as I requested.

Next, I told them to temporarily close the gateway between the core plane and the extra-dimensional space, then reopen it in about an hour after I’d stepped through. This would, I hoped, prevent the portal itself from being destroyed — or letting an explosion leak through — if I underestimated the explosion size.

I was hoping that the destruction of a barrier would be less volatile than a fireball, but it was hard to know without testing it. I knew it was possible that the barrier was powered by a compound mana type and that made the potential for strange mana interactions much higher.

With all that done, I stepped through the doorway into the testing area. I saw the portal behind me vanish a moment later. That was both comforting and nerve-wracking at the same time; if they decided to abandon me in the extra-dimensional space, I had no way of returning.

That was better than the alternative, though. If the explosion leaked out into the core plane…the potential damage was unimaginable.

Finally, I made the long walk to the circle, took a deep breath, activated each barrier along the way, and began.

Burn.

A smaller fireball this time, just to be extra cautious.

Then I drew the Sae’kes, restrained its aura, and began.

Spell Breaker.

Again, there was a single soundless flash of silver and red as the air was sliced apart, and then I was falling.

…But not quite as far as before.

I braced myself with Body of Stone, then hit the ground in the middle of my new crater.

It worked.

I exhaled a breath, playing back what had happened in my mind.

The barrier hadn’t combusted. Instead, it had slowed down my explosion — just by a minuscule amount. Whatever mana types the barrier consisted of, they hadn’t been susceptible to exploding when exposed to the damage from the detonating flame.

That made this technique much, much more viable for use than I’d feared. I still had a lot more to try, but if barriers could at least slow it down…it wasn’t going to destroy the entire planet if I activated it in the wrong place.

Well, probably. It had torn through the barrier without much difficulty, so if I started by detonating something sufficiently powerful, a planet-sized explosion was still a risk.

After some brief calculations, I made my way back to the facility, explaining the damage and asking them to set up several more identical barrier rings a few hundred feet apart. They’d anticipated more requests, so they already had an Enchanter on-hand to do it.

It took a while, but it was worth the wait.

I ran several additional tests over the rest of the day.

Spell Breaker.

I smashed my sword directly into one of the barriers, rather than a flame. That did cause the barrier to detonate — and that detonation was tremendous compared to the fire, just as I’d expected.

I fell much further that time. I used Body of Iron to brace for that one, and it still left a rattling feeling in my knees when I hit the ground below. It wasn’t molten this time; it looked as if it had been crushed by a gigantic fist.

It’s possible I should invest in flying or slow-falling items at some point.

Either way, I was happy with the results. I could cause protective magic to explode — but only when I hit a protective spell directly, or possibly if I hit something similar enough to it. Some math also told me that the overall explosion size was much smaller than what a comparable amount of mana of flame would have caused, too, which meant that different mana types had different levels of volatility. I’d expected that, but it was good to confirm.

Also of note? The explosion still didn’t harm me in the slightest.

After that, I got to the more interesting tests.

Remember when I bought a bunch of items I didn’t plan to wear? This is what those were for.

I laid down a Quartz-level dueling cane and jammed the Dominion Breaker straight into its activation rune.

Spell Breaker.

The cane, of course, exploded. I eyeballed the crater — it was the smallest yet, and perfectly smooth — then moved on.

Spell Breaker.

I detonated a Quartz-level fire conjuring ring. As expected, the explosion was larger than when I’d cut through my own conjured fire, and by an amount that seemed to scale directly with the level of the mana in the ring. I felt the heat from the explosion this time, too, even with all my protective equipment in place. That demonstrated a new potential risk; even if my aura was blocking the destructive energy, sufficient heat escaping from an explosion could cause me harm.

Spell Breaker.

I smashed a lightning-infused bracelet. The explosion for this one was interesting; it tore apart the ground in a much wider blast radius, but not in a standard spherical shape. There were dozens of different spots on the stone field that looked like they’d been both shredded and melted, like lightning-infused blades had ripped outward from the explosion and torn into various parts of the ground. The gaps in between where the electrified blades had struck were entirely unharmed.

Huh. I’ll probably want to avoid using that one for now. Too unpredictable.

I kept working, noting the explosion effects from destroying items of several different mana types. I wanted to be confident that none of them proved too destructive, and as each explosion happened, I got a better handle on the feel of the power that the technique produced.

Every type of item that I detonated was different in two important ways.

One, each explosion was clearly distinct based on the type of mana used. They felt different to my senses, and the impact craters had clearly distinct results. The explosions themselves, then, were not purely annihilating mana like my aura — they were a mix of my aura’s power and whatever I was destroying.

That was good news, in some respects; it made the technique less deadly. If it had thrown pure annihilation around in that large of a radius, I might have scrapped the technique outright. But the mixture, while still terribly dangerous, was something that could potentially be blocked by sufficient power — and that meant that I could use it without having to worry about instantly and unavoidably annihilating my allies.

It also meant some mana types were more volatile than others. With practice, I potentially could learn which ones I could safely detonate, and which ones I couldn’t.

Second, the mana used in the technique itself was subtly different each time I used it, too. I wasn’t using some kind of “omni explode everything” mana when I hit things like I’d initially expected; the technique seemed to blast the object with a specific type of obliterating essence that caused that particular target to detonate.

In other words, the Spell Breaker technique came in different flavors, and so did the output. I started giving them names almost immediately — Flame Breaker, Light Breaker, Shadow Breaker, and that sort of thing. This was both for practical purposes and because I like naming techniques.

All in all, it was good news. Flavors of destruction were much easier to control than if my technique had automatically reacted with every single form of mana available.

…I was pretty sure I could generate mana that reacted with everything, too. There was something itching at the back of my mind that told me that it would be easy. Easier, perhaps, than maintaining control.

I suppressed the temptation to give it a try, but it was harder than I might have expected. Now that I’d unleashed the sword, the desire to use it to the full extent of its power was growing by the moment.

And that wasn’t the only problem.

Even with a better understanding of what was happening, the explosion was too fast for me to shape.

I tried experimenting with shaping it with Body of Dawn active for just a moment when the explosion happened. With Body of Dawn, I could see the destruction happening and even almost get out of the way, but each explosion resisted my efforts to shape it. That happened even when I tested detonating things I could normally shape easily, like fire. With practice, I was able to maneuver a tiny bit of the essence of each explosion, but reshaping the entire thing was far beyond my abilities.

Without the ability to effectively shape the detonation, both the extreme size and the general shape of the explosion were issues. Gigantic annihilating spheres of destruction were a great way to wipe out a whole legion of enemies, but not practical for your everyday combat applications. The collateral damage was simply too great.

Each time I tested with an item, I tried something new — just willing the explosion to be smaller before I even struck, or trying to conceptualize the type of explosion that I wanted in advance. None of that worked.

By the sixth item, I decided to get more creative.

I focused on the destructive aura around me, allowing it to flow outward more than usual. Then, I conceptualized one of my most common metal sorcery techniques:

Magnetism.

I pressed that idea into the aura, the concept of drawing destructive power inward toward me. I felt an effect instantly, but not the one I’d hoped. My aura rippled and shifted, suddenly drawn toward the Sae’kes itself.

Huh.

I moved my arms, watching the edges of my aura shift in place, drawn toward the blade of the sword.

It wasn’t that my idea had failed, exactly. The moment I’d made that change to my own personal aura, the sword — which was, in effect, an extension of myself — had done the same thing. And, given that the sword’s power was greater than that inside my body, my own aura was being drawn toward the sword’s blade.

This is…fascinating.

With a hint of effort, I made the sword’s draw even stronger. My aura rippled around me strangely, contorting to form lines of destruction from each part of my body toward the blade of my sword.

With some experimentation, I realized I could also reverse the process, causing my personal aura and the sword’s aura to resonate in opposite directions, pressing waves of destruction apart in different directions.

That seemed hideously dangerous and not very useful for the moment, so I ignored it. But the original function?

That I could work with.

And with some effort, I managed to figure out how to get the sword itself to stop drawing my aura toward it; I just had to concentrate on the sword’s aura separately, then demagnetize that portion.

There were some real possibilities to exploit with various applications of this technique, but the first thing I wanted to try was my original idea — trying to constrain the destructive power of the explosion by attracting it to my own aura.

Spell Breaker.

I smashed that sixth item. The detonation looked different this time, leaving a strange, warbling effect in the air after the flash like a heat wave. I didn’t understand exactly what had happened — it had moved too fast to perceive — but the effect was close to what I’d hoped for. The detonation was smaller than I’d calculated for an item of the same mana type — less than a quarter of the usual size — and weirdly shaped. Like, closer to person-shaped, maybe? It was hard to tell.

I wanted to test it again with Body of Dawn, but I’d already been pushing it by using that technique at all. I still hadn’t recovered enough to be using it safely. Trying again would have to wait for another day.

In spite of that, I felt the results were extremely encouraging — and not just because I’d found a way to start keeping the technique under control. There was a new benefit to my training: one that was subtle at first, but growing.

I was feeling just a little bit stronger with every single item I destroyed. At first, I wasn’t sure if I was imagining it. But by the third detonated item, I was certain I could feel it.

Every time I shattered an object apart, a bit of the mana inside was flowing back into me, bolstering my strength.

I suspected I knew how it was happening. When I sent the Dominion Breaker’s mana into an object and caused a detonation, I was momentarily opening a connection with that item. During that instant when we were linked, the explosion occurred — and some of the power of the object was flowing through that explosion back into the sword. And, in turn, to me.

And that magnetic pull I’d added to my aura when I was testing the sixth item? That had vastly intensified the effect. Every hair on my arms was standing on end in the aftermath, and I could feel a tingling of power flowing beneath my skin.

This is…incredible. I want more.

My mind swam with the possibilities, but my pocketbook cringed. I could potentially turn money into mana in this way, but it was extraordinarily inefficient. I could already gain mana of a specific type by wearing and practicing with an item, and that was a continuous gain — this was a one-time benefit, then the item was gone.

Still, it had potential applications. If I ran into an enemy wielding a magic weapon I needed to remove from the world, for example…now, I could potentially do that in a way that allowed me to gain a fraction of that weapon’s power.

I liked the sound of that.

It was never going to be as efficient as something like Wrynn’s Spirit Arts for copying techniques, but I’d take any new methods of gaining power that I could find. And maybe if I practiced it enough, I could figure out how to absorb a larger percentage of the item’s power as the detonation occurred. The magnetic effect had clearly helped — maybe if I made the magnetic effect stronger, I could draw in even more of the resulting energy.

Let’s get some more power, shall we?

After that, I had a lot of breaking to do.

I tried several things. Magnetizing one section of my aura more than others would change the shape of the explosion significantly. Changing my aura to repulse annihilating energy would project the explosion out further, and with a somewhat predictable effect based on which portions of my aura I magnetized.

More.

I couldn’t stop. Every explosion made me stronger and improved my control over the technique.

When I’d run out of items, I barely restrained myself from buying more. Instead, I settled for something faster, cheaper, and more flexible.

I bought an entire backpack full of Class 0 and Class 1 mana crystals, in every mana type I could find.

Cracking these with my technique wasn’t quite as satisfying — there wasn’t enough mana in them for me to get any meaningful amount of power flowing back into my body. But I did learn a great deal from experimenting with them.

If I destroyed a fire crystal next to a death crystal, the fire crystal’s explosion would detonate the death crystal as well. It would not, however, detonate a water crystal; the water crystal would simply vanish, consumed by the explosion.

I tested this with several of combinations of crystals, mapping out which crystals would and wouldn’t cause the others to detonate.

It’s just like I expected. A fire-annihilation explosion will detonate air, or lightning, or death, but not opposing types. The same is true in reverse; a water explosion will react with ice, but not with fire.

With my annihilation magnetism active, I could get a Class 0 crystal’s explosion down to just a few meters. That was still unwieldy, but manageable.

Maybe if I adjust the aura around my sword directly, rather than focusing on my body…

I tried more and more changes, acclimating to the options my aura and weapon provided.

I also got used to what the different types of explosions felt like, and the different types of Spell Breaker variants that caused them. I tested pushing the type of power that caused a fire crystal to detonate directly into a water crystal, and as I expected, the water crystal was just disintegrated without any sort of explosive reaction.

Good.

I had options, now.

I had, however, expended over five hundred silver worth of crystals to get those options. I resisted the urge to buy more, just barely, and moved on to testing one of the things I’d been worried about the most — detonating the mana in the air itself.

A simple test told me that using the Spell Breaker technique in the open air didn’t do anything at all when the mana in the air was minimal. This was what I’d expected, given what I’d learned about “flavors” of the technique, but it was still extremely important to try it. Similarly, it didn’t detonate when I had them increase the mana in the chamber to an amount comparable to an ordinary city, or even an area with an above-average mana density, like an attunement university.

But when we got to spire-level density?

That was, uh, bad.

I’d stood inside a ring of a dozen barriers, now that I knew that they’d work to slow down the explosions, and as far from the exit as physically possible — about four and a half miles.

Destructive Magnetism.

That was my new technique name for magnetizing my destruction aura, by the way. I do love new technique names.

I activated my magnetic technique on both my aura and my sword, pulling inward as much as possible. In my previous tests, magnetizing my aura itself cut down the explosion size to around a quarter, and I knew the sword would have an even stronger pull. I hoped that between the two, even if there was an explosion, I could prevent it from spreading too far.

Spell Breaker.

The air around me distorted, wavering like a wave of heat, and then cracked like an egg.

Oh. That’s bad.

That was all I had time to think before the world went white and I felt my stomach lurch from sudden movement.

When my vision cleared, I found myself falling into a seemingly endless void. The air around me rippled crazily, and I felt something around me begin to tear. Ahead of me, I saw terrain simply vanishing, much like what my aura could do, but on an unfathomably greater scale.

Nope. Not dying like this.

I reacted as quickly as I could, reaching into my bag and pulling out my last failsafe — my Escape Bell.

I rang the bell. Instantly, I was transported back to the entrance building.

The portal to the core plane was still closed as I’d requested, but the building was intact.

…Barely.

When I walked outside, I took a look at the outside area:

It was gone.

The heavier barriers on the building had saved the structure itself, but everything else was…gone. Completely. Miles and miles of terrain, erased.

And worse than that? The skies above the area had a gaping rend, with something shimmering there that I couldn’t quite perceive.

Did…I just tear a hole in the boundary between planes?

That’s bad.

I heard a thunderous crack in the air.

I ripped off my mask. “If you’re watching, I need the portal open, now!”

The moment the portal to exit the area reopened, I sprinted through it and slammed the door shut behind me. “Close the portal. Now. And like, indefinitely.”

I didn’t try to explain exactly what had happened, both to preserve my secrecy and because they simply would not have understood. But when I told them, “Tear that might be leaking into another plane of existence,” they paled, closed the portal, and went to talk with management.

I felt more than a little guilty about that, but…at least the facility itself hadn’t been caught in the blast.

Upon my urging, they abandoned that particular extra-dimensional space entirely. They didn’t charge me for it, thankfully; they had apparently been told by Hannah that I could do “anything I wanted” within the facility, and they took the royal guard very seriously.

I was, however, cordially uninvited from ever visiting the Lost Halls in the future.

CHAPTER XII – THOUSANDS OF ARMS

I somewhat regretted not waiting until the last possible day to test higher mana densities in the air. I had a better feel for the Spell Breaker technique now, but I hadn’t had a chance to test the Dominion Breaker’s capabilities more broadly.

Perhaps that was a good thing.

I’d been getting more and more comfortable using the Sae’kes, both due to my own understanding of how it worked, and perhaps something a little subtler. Each time I used it, I felt a greater desire to use it again.

The rush that came from the destruction it caused was…well, I won’t call it quite euphoric, but enthralling. There was something about obliterating those huge swaths of area, about drinking in the power of the items that I crushed, that felt right. Like I was finally doing what I had always been meant to do.

It felt refreshing. Rejuvenating. Like I was finally free from bonds that had constrained me for far too long.

My destructive aura was blazing around me with greater intensity than ever before, but it felt manageable. I had items that weren’t ripping apart into pieces quite as easily, and I had money to spend if I truly needed to replace anything.

What had I been so worried about?

I couldn’t wait to try my new technique in real combat…and perhaps some of the other powers, too. I hadn’t tried them, but I could handle it, couldn’t I?

I dropped a bag of coins on the counter of the devastated facility as a way of compensating them for the mess I’d made. It was probably woefully insufficient, but they’d treated me well.

Then I whistled a jaunty tune as I walked back to the Study of Iron, thinking about all of the things — and enemies — I was looking forward to utterly obliterating in the future.

Things were looking up.

***

The rest of the week was comparatively simple. I spent some time training with Reika each day, enjoying the feeling of fighting her even more than usual. I pushed her harder and harder, throwing more of my techniques into the sparring than usual, and she responded in kind.

“This is more like it! You’ve been holding back on me for too long.”

We went to bed each night sore and bruised. It was good. Things were as they should be.

A few days before the next round, we went and got some of the prizes we were owed for finishing the fourth round. I didn’t pay much attention to the Edrian citizenship, but I signed the paperwork for it regardless. Having legal papers for citizenship seemed like it would help make my cover identity more viable in the long-term.

That part was boring, but toward the end of the week, we finally got our more important reward — a tour of the Arena Vault to claim a single item of our choice.

“This is so exciting!” Reika was practically bouncing with enthusiasm as we headed to the facility door. Normally, contestants toured the vault alone, but Reika talked them into taking us together so we could discuss our options.

I couldn’t wait to see what kind of weapons they had in store.

The Arena Vault was a three-story building that looked more like a museum than any armory I’d ever visited. This proved to be somewhat accurate to the overall experience of visiting the place — they had tour guides, items stored in carefully-warded crystal cases, and little bronze plaques on each case describing each item.

“We can take anything we want?” Reika asked our guide.

“Any single item is yours,” he confirmed.

“Ooh. Ooh. I can already see so many I want from here!” She did a little twirl as she turned to me and grabbed my hand to drag me through the facility. “Come on, we’ve got some exploring to do!”

We spent a good hour just walking around the place, while other guides escorted some of the other winners around the facility. I gave Alexander Theas a nod as we walked past him. Reika gave him an excited hug.

“See anything you like so far, Alex?” Reika asked.

“Several things. I’m tempted by the Dusk’s Rapport, as well as the Lion’s Pride. What about you?”

Reika listed off about fifteen different things. Alexander laughed, offering some brief commentary on each, and helped her narrow the list.

Then we parted again and got back to looking at individual items in more detail. I felt a sudden urge to move faster, given that our competitors were also touring the facility, and the most valuable items were likely to disappear rapidly if we took too long.

There were a wide variety of objects available — everything from art to arms and armor. I saw beautiful paintings by famous painters, goblets encrusted with jewels, gorgeous dresses, and even what looked like some kind of teapot. But my interests had always been focused on one thing.

I started with weapons, of course.

While the armory had hundreds of options, many of them were things I mentally categorized as useless. Kazemaru, one of the last surviving weapons forged by a famous Artinian swordsmith. A prop dagger used to represent Luck’s Touch in the first performance of Symphony’s Silence, a play about the legendary thief. One of the earliest surviving guns by “The Righteous Revolver”, a famous gunsmith and duelist. A dueling cane used by Mitchel Conrad, a famous general in the Six Year War.

Only the last of them had any real combat application, and the dueling cane wasn’t all that powerful — it was a Sunstone-level item that simply had a famous user.

I moved on from these artistic pieces and focused on the ones that looked like they had some real punch. First, I stopped in front of a boomerang. It wasn’t my typical style of weapon, but the razor edges of it and the glimmering gems on the surface attracted my attention.

Returner

An enchanted boomerang that detects the user’s intended target and seeks them out, then returns. The weapon is not intelligent, but sophisticated enough to be used both for combat and for utility. It can hit switches and retrieve distant objects, then unerringly return to your hand.

I could see the use of that, but it didn’t interest me much.

The first one to really catch my attention was a kris, a type of wavy-bladed knife. I wasn’t too keen on the design — I generally preferred straight blades to more elaborate styles — but the functions were too interesting to ignore.

The Parting Gift

A weapon once wielded by the Artinian assassin known only as Kotetsu, The Parting Gift leaves a spiritual marker on any target it cuts. This allows the wielder of the weapon to trace the location of anyone the weapon has ever injured. In addition, while the wounds the weapon makes remain open, the wielder of the Parting Gift may “draw” from those wounds, syphoning life and spiritual essence from the injured enemy into the wielder.

Draining life force was the sort of thing I instantly associated with vae’kes, even if that wasn’t exactly how their abilities worked. It was a discomforting comparison, but I couldn’t deny the utility of being able to draw life force from enemies…assuming I understood the meaning correctly. “Life force” was sort of a nebulous term, after all. Did the description imply I could heal myself from causing injuries with the knife? If so, that would be extremely useful.

Even more intriguing was the tracking function — if it worked on a spiritual level, I might be able to use it to track entities like Akadi that had multiple bodies sharing some of the same spiritual essence. I didn’t know for certain that it would work that way, but it was an idea that was worth exploring.

I put that on my “maybe” list, then moved on.

Next, a longbow with strange thorns along the sides.

Nature’s Vengeance

A cursed longbow said to be made from the malevolent heart of a betrayed forest spirit, Nature’s Vengeance is not self-aware, but unconsciously seeks to destroy those who would harm nature — including the user. When firing an arrow, the arrow will rapidly sprout poisonous thorns and branches. These arrows swiftly entangle enemies. Users are advised to be cautious, however; the thorns on the bow itself are also poisonous and deadly to any that bear nature any ill intent.

I frowned at that one. It sounded potentially useful, but the idea of being dangerous to nature was very vague and open-ended. I suspected I fell on the side of “dangerous to nature” simply through my very existence, so using the bow sounded like a bad idea. I wasn’t really big on ranged weapons in general, anyway.

The next item that caught my attention was a thin-bladed knife — more of a stiletto, really.

Symphony’s Last Embrace

A weapon supposedly wielded by the legendary thief herself, Symphony’s Last Embrace has several potent enchantments. It’s reinforced for extra durability, incredibly sharp, and projects an aura that silences the area around it when drawn. According to legend, this assisted Symphony in many of her early heists, prior to the time when she used the more famous Luck’s Touch.

I was incredibly skeptical that Symphony had ever used the weapon, but the enchantments on it sounded formidable. I wasn’t much for stealth, but I had to admit that a silencing aura had useful applications, even aside from that. If I could pick up some sound sorcery from using it, maybe I could learn to help project messages at a distance or keep my conversations private more easily. And, of course, sharp knives were always useful.

As much as I liked the item, I doubted I’d take it — the idea of owning anything that Symphony might have once used was a pretty significant “nope” for me. Not because I was worried about her getting angry about it, mind you. More out of general disgust at the idea of owning a weapon that had very likely taken numerous innocent lives. Still, I could keep the types of things it could do in mind for future purchases.

I finally found a sword a bit after that. It was much shorter than I usually used, with a single edge and a strange orange gleam to the blade.

Ignition Brand

Three hundred years ago, the master blacksmith Albert Vesten successfully made his way through the Fire Temple and reached the Prime Crystal of Fire. His boon from the Fire Crystal was the chance to utilize the temple’s legendary forge — the same forge in which Soulbrand, the Sacred Sword of Fire, was born.

One of the foremost smiths of his time, Vesten used his great knowledge and skill to attempt to recreate the legendary sacred sword. He forged a blade from the metal of a fallen star. He harnessed the power of Ifrit — the temple’s legendary guardian. And with the ashes of a phoenix, he attempted to grant the sword the power to raise the dead.

He failed.

For reasons unknown, the forge fires exploded in a burst of light when he struck the final blow with his legendary hammer. The blacksmith was burned to ashes and his work left inert and incomplete.

Some say that Selys herself punished Vesten for his hubris, while others believe it was Ifrit that turned the flames of the forge against the smith. Others still believe he made a fatal error in believing that a mortal-made weapon could contain the powers he sought to wield.

While Vesten was consumed by the raging flames of the Prime Forge, the unfinished sword survived. It blazes with incredible heat when drawn, melting through ordinary steel and even many enchanted weapons with ease. Though it has no detectable spirit, it appears temperamental; according to many past wielders, it sometimes ignites without the wielder’s command. And thus, it earned its name — Ignition Brand.

I gave that one a bit of serious consideration. Fighting against Soulbrand was going to be one of my greatest challenges, and a near-copy to train with would give me a considerable edge. If I could successfully harness the weapon’s powers, perhaps I could even improve my fire magic — or whatever it was using. There was a strong possibility that the flames the weapon commanded drew from a deep dominion like heat or ashes rather than traditional flame. Learning one of those would be tremendously useful. There was always a chance that it would have a connection to the real sacred swords or the Fire Temple that could be exploitable, too.

Sense Sacred Sword.

The ability worked as usual, giving me a sense of the location of the nearby swords. Ignition Brand didn’t ping my senses as one of them.

Still, that didn’t mean it was useless. If the sword had actual resurrection magic, well, I couldn’t possibly pass that up. But if it did have such capabilities, there was zero chance they would be giving it away. I’d heard of magic to reanimate corpses in a mockery of life, but I’d never heard of anyone being able to raise the dead successfully.

If a copy of Soulbrand was designed to raise the dead, does that imply that people think Soulbrand can do that? I don’t remember seeing anything about that in the scriptures. Maybe it’s a local legend, or some obscure apocrypha?

Either way, this sword is going on the top of my list for now.

I held off on picking it up for the moment to continue browsing, but I knew what I was leaning toward after seeing it.

Next, a strange, curved bronze weapon with a wooden handle. It reminded me of a kama or a sickle, but it was just a smidgen too large to look like any kama or sickle I recognized, and the curve of the blade was extreme — it was almost a half-circle. Aesthetically, I considered it an interesting potential off-hand weapon for the Pale Crescent if I ever decided to wield two weapons at once. More interesting, however, my sense of the metal was strange — it felt completely unfamiliar. And I’d encountered a lot of rare metal over the years.

Curious, I read the description.

Bane of the Buried

One of the oldest magical items in our possession, the Bane of the Buried is a relic of days before Edria settled on this continent. Though the weapon’s exact history is lost, the strange glyphs on the surface glow bright red in the presence of all known varieties of Buried, and wounds it causes on Buried inflict a lethal poison. Due to the fortunate lack of Buried above the surface, it is unknown if this weapon works against all varieties of Buried or only some specific species.

While the many symbols on the surface imply a broad variety of functions, the weapon is poorly understood. The enchantments it carried have thus far resisted all forms of identification and replication by modern enchanters. Some speculate that the weapon possesses some sort of internal power source, similar to the crystals found in the Unclaimed Lands.

I gazed at the weapon for several long seconds, daydreaming about its possible history.

The Buried were horrifying monstrosities of the ancient world, sealed beneath the surface in the aftermath of a war between the worldmakers. Every human culture I’d encountered had their own cautionary tales about the Buried, but there were common elements. They told of twisted creatures of great variety born purely for battle against other worldmakers and their servants. There were eye-stealing shapeshifters like the illkain, eight-limbed shapeshifting cats like the rashan, humanoid frogs that excreted god-killing poison…

They weren’t the type of thing your average person carried a weapon designed to kill. The average person’s options when encountering the Buried were simple: run or die.

So, who would have carried a weapon like this one?

I considered a few possibilities. Was this some sort of blade once wielded by a member of the Warders, the main organization dedicated to keeping the Buried trapped beneath the surface? Or was it even older, perhaps predating the sealing of the Buried entirely?

Either was a fascinating possibility, but I couldn’t say that the functions of the weapon itself were particularly practical. I wasn’t against using poison when it was truly necessary, like I had against Zenkichi, but I found it to be a distasteful tool at best. And a poison that only worked against Buried, and possibly not even every form of Buried? Eh. I could do without it.

Besides that, the Buried had largely been sealed off for millennia. There were isolated incidents of Buried escaping, sure. I’d run into a couple, and those had been harrowing experiences — but I’d spent considerable time hunting for them, and I hadn’t found more than small pockets. The Buried were such a tremendous threat that even organizations that typically didn’t get along would work together to stomp them out at any sign of a full-scale incursion. I couldn’t see any chance of a large Buried problem happening any time in the near future.

Not unless Wrynn…no, let’s not think about that. She wouldn’t let it happen.

Barring any apocalyptic events, what are the odds I’m going to even run into Buried on Kaldwyn? Meh. Probably not going to happen any time soon.

I went back to browsing swords. I saw several more of them on display — swords were always popular weapons — but only one other sword caught my interest.

It was an estoc — a type of large thrusting sword, like a rapier’s larger and more intimidating brother — with a hilt that looked to be made of bright green leaves. The blade itself was a sort of silvery-white color, possibly platinum or something similar like valden, with a series of eight gleaming green runes on the surface.

That’s a bit better, I considered, looking at the weapon’s description.

Feather Light

The legendary tengu warrior Tetsubo knew no equal until the day that he attempted to brave the depths of the Shadow Temple. For years, he trained, only to confront the place and fail a second time. His natural magic was deadened by the Shadow Temple’s aura and his skills as a swordsman, while unmatched, were unable to conquer the powerful beasts of the temple — they proved immune to mundane steel regardless of the strength of the wielder.

And so, he sought the greatest of tengu blacksmiths to forge him a sword that would strike into the heart of shadow.

Born from the heart of the Adamantine Mountains, Feather Light is imbued with a rare combination of air and light magic. When wielded, the blade generates a maelstrom of swirling light that deflects projectiles and weak magical attacks. The whirling storm also causes terrible harm to creatures of shadow.

While already remarkably lightweight, Feather Light’s name comes from one of its unusual functions. Upon command, it can completely nullify its own weight, allowing it to float in mid-air. Additional commands will cause it to spin in place until its mana is consumed, or to fly toward an opponent, but beware that these cannot be further controlled by the weapon itself; the weapon is not intelligent or spirit-bonded. Thus, it is primarily a tool for wielders who are already proficient with air magic, who can make better use of the weapon’s unusual capabilities.

That particular sword had a number of advantages. I didn’t possess anything that would give me access to air magic yet, and even if I couldn’t learn it from the sword, having a weapon that generated any form of air magic could be potentially useful for training. I knew that it was likely Reika and I would eventually fight against Raizo, the wielder of Cloudcutter, the Sacred Sword of Air. This sword was pretty different in style, but it still generated air, and I could try to learn to use it as a training tool for practice against Cloudcutter.

Of course, I also did want to see if I could learn air magic from it, but I wasn’t going to bet on that. As a practitioner of stone magic, metal magic, and enhancement magic, my essence wouldn’t mix well with air. It wasn’t impossible to learn opposing magic types, but it was extremely challenging, and I didn’t expect to master it any time soon.

The sword did come with light magic, too, though…and in Dawn’s absence, another weapon that had light magic would be a useful way to continue to improve my abilities in that area.

I added that one as another high “maybe” on my list, but I didn’t grab it immediately for one main reason — I had a lot of swords. And, in particular, I was carrying so many large swords that they were pretty cumbersome.

It would be even worse after I started working with Dawn again…

…Assuming, of course, she ever actually forgave me.

Anyway, I continued to contemplate that one as I kept looking.

I searched through more weapons for a while after that, finding a bunch of other fairly straightforward enchanted ones, but nothing else that really stood out to me.

“Keras! Keras! Look!” Reika pointed frantically at one of the cases, which contained a book.

“What is that, a spell book?”

“No, much better! Look!”

I went over to the case and inspected it. A faded cover read, “Dragon’s Damsel.” The plaque next to it was clearer.

Dragon’s Damsel

A copy of the first printing of Dragon’s Damsel, signed by the author.

I laughed. “I suppose I should have predicted that. You getting it?”

She bit her lip. “I don’t know. I feel like I should get something more, you know, combat focused. But…”

“But you really want it.”

She nodded fervently.

Mentally, I wrestled with myself. “I could get it for you, if you really want me to.”

“No, no. I couldn’t ask for that. You should get something that’s more you, like the swordy hat.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Swordy…hat?”

She pointed to a nearby case, displaying a helmet that had dozens of blades sticking out from the top.

Shredding Symbol

The legacy of the leader of a long-forgotten military order, the Shredding Symbol is a powerful enchanted helmet that bends and distorts any metal weapons that attempt to strike it. Its powerful aura also deflects missile weapons, such as arrows.

I gave the helmet an appreciative look. It was similar to the Bladebreaker Bracers, which was nice. It wasn’t a bad aesthetic for me, either, and I always liked having more things to enhance my metal sorcery — but I already had something to wear on my head, and I suspected that it would conflict with Above All’s enchantments even if I could fit the helmet on top of it.

That did get me thinking about armor options in general, though. I liked weapons, but I did have plenty of those as-is, and maybe it was time to invest in some armor. I’d already picked up some new pieces recently, but if they had anything truly powerful available here, it was worth looking at.

There were dozens of armor pieces on display, but only a handful caught my attention.

The first was a breastplate emblazoned with an unfamiliar symbol of some sort of crimson bird. A phoenix, probably, but I suspected it was more than just that — probably some form of heraldry for a specific house or nation. Either way, it caught my attention. Not because of the symbol, but because I could feel something emanating from it that felt familiar…but not like one of the dominions I could knowingly use.

Crest of Radiant Wings

This breastplate was once worn by the East Edrian general Kenno Akatsuki in the days before the coming of Selys. It is believed that the armor can only be worn by one that it deems worthy; all those who have tried to don it have been burned instantly to ashes.

Mentally, I noted that in spite of the naming, “East Edria” wouldn’t have used that name in the ancient past. They were once Kelridge, a nation more closely connected with Dalenos, which was in turn somehow descended from the continent of Artinia.

None of that was that interesting in itself, except that the feeling of familiarity reminded me of an Artinian friend — Wrynn Jaden, who you’ve all heard quite a bit about at this point.

I couldn’t pinpoint if the breastplate actually had any connection to Wrynn herself, or if it simply was imbued with Artinian magic, but nevertheless it interested me. I mentally noted the item, put it toward the top of the list, and kept moving.

I didn’t like seeing so many items that supposedly had intellect or spirits kept in cases, but I consoled myself with the knowledge that the vast majority of spirit-binding items didn’t actually have cognition the way that someone like Dawn did. Even if they had some kind of awareness of “worthiness” like the breastplate supposedly did, that was very likely to be a list of conditions that the breastplate checked for with knowledge sorcery or the equivalent, rather than any kind of conscious decision making.

At least, that’s what I told myself. There was a part of me that wanted to rampage through the place and free all the potentially sentient objects, but this was not the right time for that kind of behavior.

The next item of interest was a pair of boots.

Massive Treads

These boots allow the wearer to shift their mass, enabling them to be light enough to float or heavy enough to deliver crushing blows.

I considered those as another possible route to counter something like Diamantine’s Weight of the World technique, but I was fairly comfortable that training with the Burden Band would be sufficient and that I could find something more interesting in a collection of this size.

The rest of the armor was fairly boring. I spent the next few minutes glancing through other miscellaneous objects, including a few unusual ones like magical scrolls and potions. If they had any reinforcement elixirs, I would have considered them, but I didn’t see any.

A strange object caught my attention toward the end of my tour: a strange key, seemingly made out of dark green wood.

Key to a Lost Portal

This key is believed to activate an ancient gateway in the Unclaimed Lands that has stood abandoned for centuries. The gateway is well-known, but the area is infested with such dangerous monsters that all expeditions to reach it have failed. Some claim that this gate may even lead to a land beyond Selys’ great barrier.

I stared at the key for a long time, considering. Could it be a way back home to Mythralis? It was possible. Selys herself seemingly came from Mythralis, and routes to other continents had supposedly been more common hundreds of years ago.

Two years. Can I make it back in time to save Velthryn? Could this be the way?

I shook my head. There were many other possibilities on what the key could be for, including nothing at all. And even if the key was real and led to Mythralis, there was no telling it would still work, or that I wouldn’t require other things to access the portal.

I dismissed the key, even though it kept nagging at me as I wandered throughout the vault.

Finally, as others began to claim prizes — including some that I’d considered, like the Parting Gift — I found myself standing in front of a prize I hadn’t really considered.

It was a black, featureless black orb.

Mystery Orb

This orb is made from an unidentified substance. It does not radiate with any magic, but seems to drink it in, absorbing magical energy of all varieties with ease. The orb was discovered in the Phoenix Spire during the Judgment of one of their queens and taken during East Edria’s incorporation into the greater empire. It is now a symbol of great unity and mystery.

I stared at the orb, noting the utter darkness within it that seemed impermeable to even the brightest of light.

Wow. That’s…

Completely boring.

I ignored the orb that obviously had no significance, went back and collected a sword as my prize, then left the vault.

…You weren’t expecting me to pick something other than a sword, were you? Sorry. We all have our hobbies.

***

“Dawn wants me to tell you that she’s not jealous about you cheating on her.” Reika noted on the way out of the building.

I rolled my eyes. “I’m not cheating on her. I’d never do something like that. Now, this new sword,” I lifted Feather Light, displaying the rune-covered surface at an angle where I knew Dawn could easily process it, “might be bigger than her, and shinier than her, and have more elemental powers than her, but no, I’d never…”

“How dare.” Reika spun toward me and folded her arms. “That stupid thing is not shinier than Dawn.”

I shrugged. “I don’t know, it’s been so long since I’ve held her that I’m having a hard time remembering what she was like.”

“You know, I know you’re goading us, but I’ma hit you anyway.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Are you, now? With what? Are you going to wield Dawn against my new sword, just because she’s jealous?”

“She is not jealous!” Reika huffed. “…Dawn said insistently, but with a hint of desperation.”

I laughed. “Right. Obviously. Oh, speaking of other swords that make Dawn jealous, I have a question about Soulbrand.”

“Oooh, taking an interest in her siblings now? You’re really asking for it.”

“Just one sibling in particular for the moment. One of the swords in there was supposed to be a failed copy of Soulbrand.”

Reika nodded. “Ignition Brand. I saw that. Who would be disrespectful enough to make a copy of a sacred sword like that? It’s no wonder he died horribly.”

Don’t worry, Corin, you’re probably going to be fine.

Anyway, I nodded to Reika. “That’s the one. The description said something about raising the dead. I don’t remember anything about Soulbrand being able to do that.”

“Oh! That!” She nodded fervently. “So, there’s this old story about one of the wielders of Soulbrand being nearly killed, and it says something about the sword ‘restoring the flame of life to her soul’. Some sloppy translations make it sound like the sword brought her back from the dead. If we take other tales and the scriptures into account, it’s more likely that Soulbrand can literally heal damage to the spirit.”

I blinked, considering the possible applications of that. “What would that do to a spirit that’s been split into pieces?”

“Uh, no idea? It might be bad, honestly. Like, if you’re missing an arm, healing magic won’t generally regenerate the arm — it’ll seal over the wound, which might make reattaching the arm later even harder.”

I nodded at that. Might be best not to try it on the shard of Vendria, then, even if I got my hands on Soulbrand. I wouldn’t want to prevent the shards from being recombined properly.

“Does Soulbrand have other healing abilities?”

Reika nodded. “Probably. There are several stories about it providing miraculous bursts of healing for the wielder…but the sword doesn’t seem to have any consistent healing. You can think of the sword as having a phoenix theme. Ashes and rebirth. No small stuff.”

In practical terms, I expected that meant the sword probably had some kind of emergency healing power, but one that couldn’t be used regularly. Maybe something that consumed all the sword’s mana and depowered it for days in exchange. That kind of thing would explain why Ishyeal hadn’t used it to heal his injured arm.

…Or maybe he couldn’t use it that way. If the sword was sapient like Dawn, maybe they had a choice in how to use their own powers. Ishyeal didn’t seem to think that was possible, but I wasn’t just going to take his word for it.

“Okay, thank you. That’s some useful information.”

“Any time! I mean, any time you’re willing to deal with Dawn being furious at your wandering gaze.”

“Great.” I grinned. “Speaking of which, I’m going to go take my new sword out for some practice. I’ll see you two later.”

“Dawn assures me that she is definitely not going to come back to you just because you’re dating a new, taller and skinnier sword.”

I snorted. “I’m not dating this sword. I’m just…you know, taking her out for a spin. Which is a spinning joke, because this sword has spinning powers.”

“I could have spinning powers!” Reika said, a little loud. “Sorry, translating, that’s what Dawn said. I would also like to note that I’m pretty sure she does not, in fact, have spinning powers.” Reika frowned. “And no, saying that does not make me a ‘traitor’, Dawn.”

“Well, if she wants to see how spinning powers actually look, you two are welcome to come watch. Who knows, maybe she’ll learn something?”

“Oooh, now you’re asking for it, mister.” She rolled up her sleeves. “I’m allowed to tease Dawn, and you might get to tease a little, but you’ve crossed a line. Arena. Now.”

I smirked. “Perfect. Let’s see how well a sword can fly.”

***

I’m going to go ahead and spoil the ending on that one — the answer is “not very well”.

Swords are, as a general rule, not very good ranged weapons. There are a few specialists out there that can do things like conjure floating swords that fight on their own…but Feather Light wasn’t like that.

I’d been given a list of commands for it, and they all worked largely as described, but that didn’t mean they were all useful.

While drawn, it always generated an aura of air and light around the blade, just as described. It could, in theory, deflect projectiles and spells…but it wasn’t very effective. Reika could still hit me with a thrown rock if she put enough force behind it.

“Feather Light: Torrent” caused a whirlwind to burst out of the hilt in the direction the blade was pointing, but it didn’t have a lot of force behind it. It could move some small objects, but Reika wasn’t even fazed.

“Feather Light: Float,” made it hover in place, but a swift breeze from anywhere else would make it fly off.

“Feather Light: Whirl” would cause it to whirl in place, generating a larger whirlwind than it did when it was simply drawn and held.

And, of course, “Feather Light: Fly” would cause it to fly in the direction it was pointed — but not very fast, and with the same minimal wind resistance as before. Basically, anyone paying attention could easily get out of the way…and then it would just keep floating, comically slowly, until it ran into something and stopped.

It’s possible I should have used the sword a little before I taunted Dawn about it.

Anyway, the sword was a classic example of one of the designs I saw frequently in weapons used by arena fighters — a lot of weak functions rather than any particularly impressive ones. It wasn’t a useless item, but the best feature was probably the passive aura around the blade itself, followed by the general weightlessness function. I wasn’t planning to use the weightless sword to float; rather, I knew it would be another potential counter to Diamantine’s Weight of the World technique.

We had some light fun (pun intended) beating each other up in one of the rented arenas, and I think Dawn actually felt better after seeing how absurd the new sword was…as well as the weapon’s ultimate fate.

As I mentioned, the runes on the sword were all in one small section right above the hilt. That meant the whole rest of the blade was, well, basically optional.

With a hint of metal sorcery, the gigantic and cumbersome estoc shifted, and I had a brand-new enchanted stiletto. All the enchantments still worked in the weapon’s new shape, and I finally had a replacement throwing dagger. I could easily change it back if I actually needed a full-sized sword, too.

Next, I went and spent about a hundred silver buying the dagger an enchanted scabbard, just to keep my aura from breaking it. That briefly made Dawn jealous again, which was an added bonus. After that, we headed back to the Study of Iron.

***

Reika headed off to see Meilin when we returned. I paused to speak to Grandmother Iron, who was practicing by herself in the main training hall. This was a rare sight — I generally saw her instructing students, but I’d only seen her practicing her own forms and swordplay a handful of times. That didn’t mean she never trained, I just suspected that she did it when no one else was around, or perhaps with Walter.

I took a moment to observe before interrupting her, standing patiently as she went through a series of rapid sword-swipes against nonexistent opponents. A kata, then, or something similar to it. I wasn’t familiar with the specific style she was using, but she wielded a dao — the same style of sword as Diamantine — and utilized surprisingly aggressive movements.

After finishing what I could only assume was one set, she paused, turned and bowed to seemingly no one, and then turned toward me with an expectant expression.

“How goes the training?” I asked.

“You should be more worried about your own. My movements help stave off the inevitable ravages of age, but they would avail me little on the battlefield. I am rapidly growing too old to even pretend to be a warrior.”

I gave her a skeptical look. “You’re, what, fifty-something? My teacher in Velthryn, Herod, was pushing seventy. I’d say you’ve got time yet.”

“While I appreciate your efforts to encourage me, we do not all have the luck to stay intact until our seventies. While I’m certain you recall my greatest wound,” she indicated her missing arm, “it is far from the only one. And some wounds do not heal with time — they only grow worse.”

“And they’re beyond healing magic?” I asked, skeptical.

‘Beyond any healer I’ve spoken to. Anything else would be an unjustifiable cost. But enough of that. My body is not of concern — yours is tantamount to our success. Have you had any success with that secret training of yours?”

I nodded. “Some. But I wanted to ask you to assist me with something.”

“Oh?” She seemed a little surprised by that, and if I wasn’t mistaken, perhaps a little pleased. “More practice for your body reinforcement techniques?”

Distantly, I heard the door to the building slide open and felt the presence of metal, but I didn’t worry about it. That was a common sensation, one I assumed just meant that Walter or Fai was on their way back into the building.

“Actually, that would be useful, especially if you’d be willing to use your own and strike me. But I was thinking about one of my training gaps — the amulet. I haven’t found anyone who can cast petrification magic to help me with that yet. Apparently, Petrification is a Citrine-level spell, and it’s usually only used by people with the Transmuter attunement. I don’t know which one you have, but I was guessing it’s something like that or Forgemaster. I don’t suppose…”

Her expression sank in obvious disappointment. “I can’t help you. I never learned that sort of magic, nor do I know anyone who can.”

“Funny, I was just learning that spell. Might try it on you sometime. But first, I have more pressing business.” The voice behind me was a familiar one, but not one that I’d expected. Not another student. My hand settled on the Pale Crescent as I slowly turned around, bracing for a possible fight.

“Oh, there’s no need to be on your guard.” Taer’vys Ironthorn smiled that wolfish smile at me. “I’m not here for you today.”

Behind me, I heard Grandmother Iron take a step backward. My hand tightened on the grip of my sword. “She’s a friend. Don’t step any closer.”

Taer’vys paused in place, extended empty hands to his sides. “You’ve got me all wrong. This isn’t an assassination. This is personal business.”

“Personal business…?” I asked. “Lethal personal business?”

“No, no. Well, at least, that was never my intention. Let me start again.” He turned toward Grandmother Iron, his eyes narrowing as he focused on her, seeming to process something.

Then, after seeming like an age of evaluation and debate, he finally spoke again. “Hello, Mother.”

CHAPTER XIII – ETERNAL TALES

Several things clicked in my mind when Taer’vys said those words.

Grandmother Iron had told me that she’d visited Mythralis in her youth, while running from Edrian assassins. She’d told me she’d left a child behind when she’d returned here.

Taer’vys was already a full Bladebreaker when I started training. I didn’t know his exact age, but somewhere around thirtyish. If Grandmother Iron had visited Mythralis in her youth, around twenty or so…yeah, that timeline made a degree of sense.

Except, of course, for the four hundred years that had apparently passed in my absence. Or not passed. I had still many, many questions about that.

But from the expression on Taer’vys’ face and the reaction of the woman behind me, I knew it was not even close to the right time to ask.

“You…can’t be.” Iron shook her head. “You couldn’t have gotten here.”

“You’d be surprised at what someone can accomplish with Symphony’s resources. Taer’vys Ironthorn, by the way, if you happened to leave before you heard my name.”

“I…” She exhaled an exhausted breath. “The name suits you.”

I took one glance back at Grandmother Iron, then to Taer’vys. This didn’t look like it was going to turn into any sort of fight — just a family reunion that I was making about ten times more awkward.

“I’ll leave you two to talk.”

Taer’vys gave me a quick nod, his expression uncharacteristically distant. I didn’t think I’d ever seen him so distracted.

Without meaning to, I noted the exact position of his sword on his hips, the distance of his hand from the hilt, the way his shield hung on his back.

Vulnerable, my mind whispered. Threat can be eliminated.

I ignored that strange instinct, as well as the similar feeling that came when I saw Grandmother Iron’s usual taciturn demeanor fraying as she looked at her long-abandoned son.

I got out of the room as quickly as possible, and not just because I wanted to get out of the way of a mother-son reunion. If I wanted to be ready for the next match, I still had a lot more training to do.

I spent the rest of the day training. I practiced by myself at first, then spent another couple hundred silver on hiring some attuned to assist me.

I’d spent the first half of it practicing variations on my existing techniques, trying to improve my flexibility. I’d already determined that I could cobble together a body-enhancement technique from most of my mana types, but I hadn’t really tried it with enhancement, and I still didn’t have quite enough light mana to use that by itself. I made some attempts at those, getting to the point where I felt comfortable infusing myself with mana of those types, but not to the point where I felt I could say I had a full “Body of Enhancement” or “Body of Light” technique.

I needed better names for them first, at a minimum.

I also tinkered with magnetism a bit. My Destructive Magnetism technique had made it clear that I could apply magnetism-style effects to more than just metal, so I played with that a bit. It was easier with any solid material than energies like flame, but I figured it might eventually be possible for me to create a magnetic pull for virtually any type of mana I could use.

After that, I hired a Citrine-level Transmuter to petrify me over and over. I immediately found that Diamantine’s amulet had two effects. First, it provided some direct resistance to petrification spells, making it harder to turn any of me to stone. The hired attuned had to pour more mana into it just to breach the amulet’s defense.

Next, once part of me had been petrified, the amulet immediately began to reverse the process. This was good to know, since I didn’t think the amulet was necessarily powerful enough to stop Diamantine’s effect outright, unless it provided more defense against Diamantine than it did against other forms of petrification.

Getting half-petrified over and over was a little weird, but I acclimated to it. I used it as a chance to test my own means of reversing the spell (which worked), as well as trying to convert the stone mana into powering my Body of Stone (which also worked, but with the side effect of slowing me down if I converted too much stone mana).

After that, I had the Transmuter try to teach me the spell, but I couldn’t quite make it work. I had him try to teach me the reversal spell, too, to turn other petrified people back into flesh — that was easier, and I thought I could probably handle it, since it wasn’t too dissimilar from what I was already doing when I tried to reverse the process on myself.

All in all, I think I confused the guy considerably, but I got a good lesson out of it.

Aside from working with the Transmuter, I tinkered with trying to figure out what else the amulet might do, but I couldn’t get any other functions to activate. Iron had mentioned some of the amulet’s powers were disabled, though, so it was possible that it simply wasn’t going to do anything else until she reactivated them. I considered hiring a Diviner or Enchanter to figure out what the amulet was supposed to do — or even turn the amulet back on ahead of time — but I wasn’t willing to violate Iron’s trust.

Given how much money I’d spent recently, I decided not to spend too much more for a while and to focus on training with the items I already had for my last couple days until the match. I returned to the Study of Iron exhausted, but feeling like things were moving in the right direction.

The next day, I went back out to train alone — except, not as alone as I’d planned. As I headed toward one of the private training areas to rent it, I sensed the familiar presence of metal behind me. That wasn’t unusual, of course. There were plenty of other fighters around carrying weapons. But that particular source of metal held a persistent distance, just out of my sight and hearing.

And it wasn’t just metal. As I concentrated, I could feel something almost familiar about it.

Sense Sacred Sword.

Trails appeared in my vision, leading to each of the swords I knew of. Dawn, back at the Study of Iron. Two others on the island in more distant locations. I couldn’t feel a third to represent Twilight’s Edge, but that was no surprise. Ravenshade had to be blocking detection magic again. And I sensed one other far further away, off back toward the Unclaimed Lands.

But there was something else. Something that sent a ringing through my mind, accompanied by a wave of vertigo. I saw another line for just an instant, one pointing straight toward the metal I’d sensed—

And then, in a heartbeat, it was gone. The line, the sense of metal, the feeling of that other sword…or whatever it truly was.

I stared off in that direction for a time, wondering what it could have meant.

It would have been easy to put that down to yet another secret that I wasn’t ready to explore, but I was absolutely exhausted with ancient mysteries.

Body of Dawn.

I sprinted in the direction that I’d sensed the metal at top speed, blurring through a crowd. The feeling had come from a rooftop nearby…so I ran up the wall. With Body of Dawn active, it wasn’t even a challenge.

When I reached the top of the roof, I didn’t find anyone there.

Instead, I found a simple note, lying in wait for me.

I scanned the area nearby, finding no one, then released Body of Dawn and picked up the note.

I’m sorry, we can’t meet just yet. Father has forbidden it, and I must obey him.

Soon.

When our blades meet, the world itself will shiver.

I frowned at the letter, then burned it. I wasn’t going to keep another potential source of tracking magic on me.

I had many questions. Who had written the letter? What were they talking about? How had they sensed my magic?

Were they the wielder of another sacred sword, or something like it? A piece of the broken Flowbreaker, perhaps?

But most importantly, how had someone written a letter and escaped that quickly? I’d gotten to the rooftop in seconds. Had they written the note in advance? That was…a little strange. Were they just the sort of person who carried a bunch of weird letters to drop when they needed to make a hasty escape?

That was kind of a hilarious idea, actually, if a little farfetched.

But the other possibility — that they were even faster than I was with Body of Dawn active — also seemed unlikely.

…Unlikely and concerning.

Without Body of Dawn active, I made my way down from the roof the old-fashioned way, then headed back out to finish training. But it wasn’t my destiny to reach the arena without interruptions that day.

I was about half-way there when I caught sight of a black feather drifting through the air with a note attached to it.

I caught the feather, sighed, and unrolled the note.

Off to train alone again, Keras? That’s no fun. Lady friend still got you down?

Don’t worry, I’ve got just the thing to liven life up for us both.

Twenty-two bells. The Dastard’s Den.

Drinks and merriment.

Wear your best mask.

-PTR

I also burned that note, but kept the feather out of a misguided feeling of sentiment. Then, I headed to the arena to train.

I tried not to get myself too exhausted that day. It wouldn’t do to get myself tired out too early.

After all, I had a date with a phantom thief later that night.

***

Before heading to a dubious meeting with a legendary rogue, I went to visit Reika’s room at the Study of Iron. I knocked on her door.

“Who is it?” Came her voice, sounding a little sleepy.

“It’s Keras.”

“Oh, hi. Sorry.” She yawned. “I was napping. You can come in.”

I opened the door and stepped inside. She looked a little disheveled, with her hair wildly askew and her blankets wrapped around her in a vortex-like pattern. She also must have been sleeping either sideways or diagonally across the bed, rather than directly on her pillows.

Classic Reika.

I was fortunate to find her there at all, rather than out with Meilin. Reika was dragging Meilin out of the place more often again, presumably in an effort to help improve Meilin’s spirits. I couldn’t tell if it was working.

“Sorry I woke you.” I closed the door behind me and sat down on the floor across from her bed.

“No, here.” She smacked her bed sleepily. “Cuddles.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Are we back on cuddling terms?”

She startled, seeming to wake up a little. “Oh. I…” She blinked. “I don’t know.”

“Hey, I’d love to, if you’re okay with it. But if you still need space…”

“Hold on, let me ask Dawn.”

I waited.

“She says you are provisionally accepted into the bed, as long as you are on your best behavior.”

I snorted, pushing myself back up and sitting tentatively on the side of her bed. Reika swiveled around to lower her head onto my lap and let out a little coo as I began to scratch the top of her head.

“Yes, good, serve me…majestic dragon king…” She closed her eyes.

“Hey. Before I let you sleep, there are some things I need to talk to you about.”

Already half-asleep, she replied with, “Go ahead, my subject.”

I spent some time filling Reika and Dawn on what I’d been up to while we’d been separate. She almost dozed off a few times, only to seem wide awake when I got to specific parts that entertained her.

“Hold on, Dawn wants to talk to you.” She shuffled a little bit, half-disentangling herself from the covers to reveal a sheathed Dawnbringer within them.

I reached in and put a hand on Dawn’s hilt. “Hey, Dawn.”

<I can’t believe you. You have a favor from the soon-to-be emperor?>

It took me a second to place what she was talking about. “Wouldn’t it be empress?”

<No, emperor is gender-neutral here. That is not the issue, mister! You can’t go around impressing princesses like that! Only I damsel!>

“I…don’t think I’d ever, in any context, consider Crown Princess Song a damsel.”

<No? She’s a princess, Keras. You’re a knight. These are facts.>

I shook my head. “If we’re talking about storybook ideas, she’s more like…one of the Magical Battle Star Princesses.”

<Wait, you read those? Those are girl books, Keras.>

“Good books,” Reika added sleepily.

“I don’t see what makes them girl books. I’m pretty sure books don’t have genders. And they have battle in the title.”

<But they’re about a bunch of battle princesses fighting for love!>

“Battle. Fighting. I see nothing not to like. Might be a little too much romance for my tastes, but they have elemental powers and punch people. I’m a creature of simple needs, Dawn. I hear about people blasting monsters with magic, I read.”

<That’s…fair, I guess.> She seemed momentarily stymied. <But hey, wait. Edria Song is still a princess. What are you doing, getting her to get all weak-kneed for you like that?>

“I would not describe our interaction as involving weak knees. And you’re getting all riled up. Are you that jealous?”

<I…no. Jealousy is not something swords experience. I, a sword, say this definitively.>

“Have you already forgotten the big reveal that led to the whole arc where you walked away from me?”

<Oh, right. Also a sword.> An awkward silence followed. <So you’re saying you’re jealous, then. I see. I can understand why you would covet all of…this.>

An image of Dawnbringer flashed in my vision, unsheathed and floating in a place of darkness.

I blinked. The image faded. “Huh. New trick. Telepathic image sharing?”

<Yep! But you’re supposed to admire how beautiful I am, silly.>

“S’pretty,” Reika groggily helped.

I laughed and petted Reika some more. She curled up closer to my leg. “You’re very beautiful, Dawn. But I’m not sure who I’m supposed to be jealous of in this scenario.”

<Ah, I know. Your feelings for me are just too powerful to comprehend.>

“Right. Since you’re not the jealous type, I suppose it won’t bother you that I’m going out with the Phantom Thief Ravenshade tonight.”

<What?! That hussy! Let me at ‘er!>

I burst into laughter, which seemed to briefly wake Reika back up, only for her to settle back down after mere moments. That was some commitment to sleep that I truly admired.

“Okay, so, since you obviously are jealous…we should talk about us, Dawn.”

<Nope nope nope. Not ready for a serious talk. Try again…never, maybe.>

“Look, Dawn. I’m sorry that I hurt you. I can only say this so many times, though. I can give you space if you need it. I can understand why you’re mad, but I need to know if you’re coming with me to meet Ravenshade tonight. She has Twilight’s Edge, and I know trying to talk to the other sacred swords is important to you.”

Dawn fell silent.

“I also need to know soon if we’re going to fight together in the next round of the tournament. That decision doesn’t need to happen today, but…I’d like to, Dawn. I’ve missed you.”

<I’ve…missed you, too.>

“Then maybe…”

<I’m not ready. I’m sorry. I…still have things I need to sort through. Not…just because you hurt me. You did, but…>

There was a sound of a sigh in my mind.

<I wasn’t always perfect to you, either.>

I gave her a surprised look. “No one is perfect to each other. We can try, but we’ve all got moods. We get things wrong. It’s a part of being two different people.”

<No, no. I know that. I mean…I’ve been talking to Reika a lot, and I’ve been unfair to you. I tease you all the time, and she pointed out that it’s not always very, well, nice. I just…like getting you riled up, you know? It’s fun.>

“I know. It’s how you feel like you have agency.” I omitted the “because you don’t have a body” part, since it was implied.

<Yeah. But…that doesn’t mean it’s an excuse to be mean. If I’m going to be a partner to someone, I should be supportive. I can’t always just be tearing you down. So, for what it’s worth…I’m sorry, too.>

I cautiously ran my hand along her grip. “It’s okay, Dawn. I accept your apology.”

<Thanks. But…I don’t think I’m quite ready to be forgiven. I need to do better.>

“Then, why not give us another chance to be better to each other?”

More silence. <…No.>

My heart sank. “No?”

<N…not yet, at least. I don’t think I can be with you again right now.>

I nodded. “Okay. That’s fine. Even if it’s never…”

I felt a spike in emotion when I said that last word, strong enough that I couldn’t tell which of us it came from. In truth, it was probably both.

<I…I’m sorry.>

I nodded, scratched Reika behind the ear, and shifted to move her off my lap. She was sound asleep now.

“I’ll let you know how it goes tonight.”

<…Be careful, Keras.>

I smiled down at Dawn. “Careful isn’t me. But don’t worry, Dawn. I’m coming back. Whether I’m your wielder or not, I will come back to you.”

After a moment, and possessed by an unexpected whim, I whispered one more word:

“Always.”

CHAPTER XIV – SHADOW OF A DEADLY THIEF

When going out for a date with a phantom thief, the most important thing to remember is that one should never, under any circumstances, date a phantom thief.

Before heading out, I made sure that I knew exactly what I was and wasn’t wearing. Just in case she decided to, you know, abscond with one of my god-killing weapons or something.

I did bring the Sae’kes with me on the date, as well the Pale Crescent and my Planelock Boots. I didn’t think she would steal my boots without me noticing. Probably. More importantly, it seemed like teleportation defenses might actually be relevant for the sorts of things she might want try if she was feeling mischievous.

I brought just a bit more money than I needed to cover a fancy dinner and drinks.

I left most of my other magical stuff with Reika, even my shadeweave tunic. Given that the tunic used shade sorcery involved in its creation, it seemed like the type of thing that might interest her, which meant it was more likely than most of my gear to vanish.

With all that being done, I couldn’t claim to be properly prepared for a date with Ravenshade — such a thing would be impossible — but I wasn’t quite as vulnerable as I would have been walking around with a wardrobe full of magic gear on. Obviously, her stealing the Sae’kes was the worst possible scenario, but I locked the scabbard in place on my hip using a chain, locked the sword in the scabbard by tightening the scabbard’s metal rim, and hoped that a reasonable degree of caution would keep her from trying anything.

And if she did steal it, I was very confident I could track the sword. Sense Sacred Sword didn’t make a line to the Sae’kes show up in my vision…not exactly. I did feel something from the Sae’kes when I used it, but probably not enough to find the sword that way. That said, once I knew how to use Sense Sacred Sword, modifying it to find the Sae’kes was an easy mental exercise. And given the strength of my connection with the sword, I didn’t think she’d be able to block it, even with powerful nondetection magic.

I didn’t savor the idea of a merry chase after my own weapon, but I was prepared for one if necessary.

With all that done, I headed to the bar in question. I dressed up nice, with some black slacks and a white shirt that Reika insisted made me look like the guy from cover art for one of her books (The Sultry Swordsman, if you’re wondering). Of course, that outfit was probably irrelevant, given that I was also wearing my best mask as instructed — meaning the Mask of Kishor. I didn’t know if Ravenshade would even be able to remember my outfit afterward.

Then again, she was much better at the whole stealth and disguise game than I was. I didn’t notice her until I felt her slip her arm through mine on the way to the door.

“I’m glad you could make it.” Her tone was playful, but I think I caught a hint of actual gratitude in there somewhere. Maybe I was imagining it.

“How could I turn down such a charming offer?” As we walked toward the door, I noted that she was wearing a simple black outfit of her own, complete with raven feather mask, and Twilight’s Edge sheathed on her right side.

She grabbed my sword arm while leaving her own left hand free to draw. A coincidence of positioning? Maybe, but I’m not counting on it.

I did have two swords on my belt, but drawing with my off-hand was awkward, especially with someone in close proximity.

“My, you’re tense. First time out with a pretty girl?”

I snorted. “No, simply my first time out with a lady of your particular talents.”

“Hm. Well, if you’re lucky, maybe it won’t be the last. We’ll see, shall we?”

The Dastard’s Den had a line and a door guard. Ravenshade ignored the line, winked at the guard, and slipped behind him while dragging me through the entrance. I followed her in.

The interior of the building was less like a bar than I expected. It was all red plush couches and scant illumination, with a few tables with scattered drinks and appetizers here and there.

It reminded me less of a shady tavern and more of a gentlemen’s club, minus the dancing girls.

Maybe I simply hadn’t found the dancing girls yet? That was plausible.

Ravenshade pulled me to an empty couch, angled me to sit down, and then sat down next to — and practically on top of — me. She snapped her fingers.

A masked man came by with menus, silently setting them down, and then departed immediately.

“In the mood for anything specific?” Ravenshade asked, using her free hand to lift a menu. I did the same. The items were, uh, thematic.

Cutpurse Chicken, Rooftop Roast, Sharp Wine, Lockpick Lasagna…

I raised an eyebrow at Ravenshade. “No prices listed. At an ordinary fancy restaurant, I’d take that to mean that we’re not supposed to worry about the costs. At a place like this…how many of these are actual food and drink, and how many of them are some kind of code that tells the servers to, I don’t know, rob a bank for us?”

She raised a hand to her mouth and laughed softly. “Bold of you to assume that they aren’t both food and code.”

…Oh, it’s going to be that kind of night, is it?

“Forgive me for underestimating the complexities of thief cuisine.” I set the menu down, turning to face her directly. “What would you recommend?”

“Ooh. Strategic.” She set her own menu down. “Would you say that you have a heavy appetite?”

“I’ve been known to be a pretty big eater.” My mind flashed to Reika, naturally. Not even I could compare to a dragon’s ability to put down food. “I tend to prefer meat dishes, but at a place like this…how are the drinks?”

“Alcohol? I didn’t think you’d touch the stuff. Aren’t you supposed to be some sort of shining champion of justice? Untainted by the temptations of the mortal world?”

“Oh, I am. Classic knight-errant, pure as dawn’s light. But this place seems like it might be dangerous, and it wouldn’t be chivalrous of me to let you face the danger alone.”

“Oh, forgive me!” Her hand went to her chest. “I would never dare challenge your bravery. Since you’re so brave, you can sample my drinks, just to make sure they aren’t poisoned.” She snapped her fingers. A waiter appeared, then leaned down. She whispered something in his ear, then he disappeared back into the depths of the building.

I may have made a terrible mistake.

In the meantime, I decided to try to get some information while I was still sensate. “So, what inspired a legendary thief to participate in a sword tournament?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say legendary. I’ll take famous, though.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s not all you’ll take before the tournament is over. I heard you stole a tower in one of the earlier rounds — how was that possible?”

“Some people say that magic loses its luster if you reveal how a spell works. I tend to think that thievery is the same way.” She smiled. “But get enough drinks in me and maybe I’ll give you a hint.” To emphasize, she gestured at a wine glass on the table. I blinked. I hadn’t seen it placed there.

With a laugh, I lifted it, taking a sip. It was light and bubbly…maybe some kind of champagne? “Definitely poison.” I passed it to her. “But I think we’ll live.”

She nodded, taking a drink, then set it down. “For a while, anyway. What about you? Here for the sights?”

She’d never actually answered my question directly, but that wasn’t unexpected. “For the swords, mostly.” I snatched the glass back from the table, taking another sip, then looked straight at her and added, “But I certainly don’t mind a bit of sight-seeing. The view from my current position is lovely, for example.”

She rolled her eyes. “Please. The theatrical charm is appreciated for what it is, but unnecessary. I work with bards, you know.”

“Oh? Are you a musician yourself, then?”

Ravenshade blinked, the question seemingly catching her off-guard for the first time. “…I do sing a little.”

A mischievous look crossed my face. “…Do you, now?”

“…Not professionally, of course. I’m no bard myself, I just…”

I waved a hand dismissively. “I’m not a bard, either. In fact, if bards and I were elements, we’d probably cancel each other out. But I do like singing. And if there are bards present…”

She seemed to consider that. “Well, we do have free run of the place for the night…”

I smirked. “Up for a duet or two?”

Ravenshade practically doubled over in laughter. “We’re going to need a lot more to drink.”

***

Many drinks later, we had the entire building raising their voices in song.

A long time ago,

In a land cross the sea,

There lived a great hero,

Of heart and chivalry.

His steel was sharp, his hand was quick,

His muscles big and strong,

And of his wit, there was no match,

He even wrote this song.

Travis, Travis! Slayer of Orcs!

Hero of the land.

Travis, Travis! Slayer of Orcs!

With women, in demand.

There are other heroes,

Full of bravery,

But none save mighty Travis,

Have crossed the Lightning Sea.

He fought a mighty serpent,

Slew it in battle bold,

Then swam to the creature’s lair,

And claimed its hoard of gold.

Travis, Travis! Slayer of beasts!

The hero for whom we sing,

Travis! Travis! Slayer of beasts!

More wealth than any king!

Once when on adventure,

Our hero came across a blade,

It shined like a newborn star,

And he knew it was well-made,

So Travis, hero above all else,

Made the sword his own,

Then went upon a journey,

To face the Tyrant on his throne!

Travis, Travis, wielder of Luck,

He held it in his hand,

Travis, Travis, never gave up,

He quested across the land!

For many years he traveled,

He crossed both land and sea,

To seek his final foe,

And meet his destiny.

But though Travis was the greatest hero,

Matchless with a sword,

He had one small flaw he could not hide,

He never could tell south from north.

Travis, Travis, bad with directions,

Still lost somewhere at sea,

Travis, Travis, hero of all,

If you hear this, rescue me!

I laughed, setting my…tenth, maybe?…glass of something down. “Oh, that one brings back memories.”

“…Didn’t think you’d know sea shanties. What sort of knight-errant are you?” Ravenshade snorted, lifting up her own drink, taking a cautious sip, and then frowning at the taste.

“Knights have to go to sea sometimes, you know.”

“Like when?”

I blinked hazily. “Like…I don’t know, to fight sea serpents? Like in the song?”

“Oh, yeah, I guess that makes sense.” She blinked at her drink, then slammed the table with her other hand. “Waiter, more!”

“Think you might have had enough.” I waved at her glass. “That’s like your…” I frowned. “Billionth drink.”

“Very exact, thank you.” She laughed. “You’ve had a lot, too, you know. I don’t see you slowing down.”

“Can’t.” I shook my head. “Duty calls.”

“Duty?” She raised an eyebrow.

“Since you’re a famous thief, it’s my duty to catch you and keep a very close eye on you tonight. For the sake of justice, obviously.”

“Obviously.” She gave what looked like a genuine smile, then looked down at my cup. “What are you drinking for the sake of justice right now?”

I frowned into my cup. “Uh…think they called it ‘Clouds Above the Dark’.”

She blinked. “That’s a real drink name?” She grabbed the menu, searching. “Huh. Toasted marshmallows in a chocolate liqueur? That sounds…”

“Like justice.” I finished for her. “Warm, gooey justice.”

***

So, then we got smashed. Like, a lot. You’d be surprised at how much alcohol they can put in chocolate, and I was surprised at how much a phantom thief could handle.

She was probably cheating. Magic items or that sort of thing.

I, also, was cheating. Both by virtue of better-than-human physiology (sorry, humans) and light mana. And, from a more mundane perspective, by occasionally drinking water and ordering appetizers rather than just straight boozing my way through the night.

“Sho…I wash wondering.” She grinned at me, then poked my nose, leaving something (chocolate?) on it.

“About?”

“Hold on.” She lifted a cup containing an unidentifiable red substance that I couldn’t remember her ordering, then chugged it down with a satisfying “ah” at the end. “S’better. Sho, what was I saying?”

“You were wondering…”

“Right. Right. Thing is, I’ve got me a job tonight.”

I blinked. “A job? Like a…thie—”

She put a finger to my lips. “Not sho loud, silly. There are people here.”

I had gotten a pretty good idea of the layout of The Dastard’s Den in the last couple hours of drinking, as well as the people involved.

Literally everyone there was a criminal. Everyone. There was like, zero attempt to hide it. People discussed illegal business the way that ordinary folks talked about the weather or trimming lawn plants.

If anyone had come across as being a dangerous criminal, I would have probably left, but they seemed mostly harmless. The glorious criminal enterprises of the patrons seemed limited mostly to small-time theft and fixing horse races. Virtually no one was even armed, and none of the people there seemed like a real threat.

I mean, aside from the woman in my lap. When had she gotten all the way on there? I couldn’t be sure.

She snapped her fingers. “Focus, swordy. Focus.”

I blinked. “Right. Sorry. Distracted.”

“And whisper,” she said entirely too loudly.

I leaned closer, whispering in her ear. “Like this?”

“Mm.” She made a little startled jolt, but the good kind. “Better. But maybe not so much of that in public.”

I smiled, pulling back. “Embarrassed? I didn’t take you for shy.”

“Professional. These people are all potential colleagues. Can’t let them get the wrong impression.”

Her voice was a little clearer there. Had she been acting before, or just regained a bit of focus? “The wrong impression being…”

“Who is charming the pants off who.”

Corin, this is not the time to talk about “who” versus “whom”. This is a romance scene and it is very seductive; I assure you.

Right.

Anyway, I gave a little laugh in response to her statement. “Definitely can’t let them think you’d be seduced by a knight, of all things. What would people say?”

She nodded, bumping her head against mine in the process. Maybe…not entirely sober, then. “And I have work to do.”

“Like this? Like…now?”

“No, no.” She shook her head, groaning. “We can wait like…five minutes.”

“We…?”

“Oh, did I…not mention?” She frowned, looking briefly disoriented. “Tonight isn’t a solo job.”

***

She took me up to the roof of the building, walking more steadily than I might have expected given her apparent inebriation. Given that her words were quickly becoming more coherent, I had to wonder how much of her behavior before had been an act, or if she’d simply sobered up rapidly — either due to the shift in focus or a simple use of magic.

Suppose I should do the same.

A quick flicker of light mana surged through my body. It wasn’t the world’s best cure for alcohol, but it would help improve my focus.

“Follow.” Ravenshade unceremoniously jumped from one rooftop to the nearest, then ran across it. I rushed to follow her, light mana continuing to pump through my body and clear my mind.

After several minutes, she jumped to the wall of a taller building, then began to run up it. Not wanting to burn through all of my light and spirit mana using Body of Dawn this soon, I swapped back to grabbing the wall and using stone mana to climb.

She laughed as I caught up to her. “You’ve gotten faster since we first met.”

“Taking a run across a street of memories, are we?” I grinned across the roof toward her. “I didn’t take you for such a romantic.”

She snorted. “It’s more of a convenient coincidence. We’ve got places to be. Come on.”

Our running and climbing continued until we reached a tall tower that I didn’t recognize. It wasn’t like a spire or a traditional wizard’s tower — it grew thinner and thinner toward the top, with some sort of strange crystalline apparatus atop it that took up much of the roof. When we reached the top, she finally stopped, leaning against the strange device and gazing out across the city as a whole.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” She asked, only half-speaking to me.

I followed her view, taking note of the many lights of the island below. From this high vantage point, I could see a number of other noteworthy structures — a crimson fortress in the Royal Retreat that probably housed the imperial family, the titanic arena at the center of the island, and a handful of other towers similar to the one we stood atop.

I saw some great objects moving in a more distant part of the sky, my eyes narrowing as I focused on them.

Are those…flying ships?

It wasn’t so strange, really, that a civilization that could make an entire island fly might also have flying ships…but I hadn’t noticed them before. They were hovering at the very edge of my vision, perhaps following the island itself across the sky.

Emergency vehicles, perhaps?

It made a degree of sense to have some way of evacuating the imperial family if the island was threatened. Perhaps the ships had only shown up once Akadi had attacked?

Or, I suppose, those ships could be someone else’s forces…but they’re holding at a distance, so I don’t think they’re coming to attack. Not yet, at least. Hm.

I looked away from the ships, turning my gaze higher.

The cloudless sky above us was bright with the glimmering light of distant constellations.

Which of you are the ones that have always helped me?

I might have said the stars were beautiful, but the phantom thief’s gaze only saw the world below.

She was focused on a specific cluster of buildings — a brightly lit segment near a smaller palace in a wealthy district just outside of the Royal Retreat. Several crystals floated in mid-air above the palace, each flickering with a different color. I could see some kind of translucent energy flowing between them, as well as a harder-to-see blend of energies that focused on the center of the palace.

Some sort of barrier, maybe?

I realized I hadn’t actually answered the question. “It’s lovely. Looking to add a giant crystal to your collection?”

She glanced up toward me, looking briefly startled. “Steal…the crystals? Huh, that’s one way to get rid of the security system. Not a half-bad idea. But not tonight. I have other plans.”

“And you want me to help? I’m not exactly the rising star of the thieves’ guild, you know.”

She gave me a little smile. “Oh, but with moves like those…you certainly could be.”

“Appreciate the compliment, but that’s not really the career path I’m aiming for. And, as much as I do enjoy risks and adventures, I’m going to need a little more information before I agree to help you.”

“Shame that you’ve rejected my job offer, but I’ll dry my eyes and try to move on.” She winked at me. “Don’t worry, I won’t expect you to cut any purses. You may not even need to do anything strictly illegal.”

The word “may” in there was a little worrying, but the rest of it was helpful. “I’m in more of a support position, then? Covering for you in case of emergencies or something?”

“No, not quite. Quiet for a moment, I need to time something.” She reached into her pouch, removing a pocket watch, pressing something, and glancing back toward the building.

I immediately began looking at the palace more closely, noting guards patrolling on the grounds outside, as well as a handful of them in other positions. And…were those golems outside? Yeah, those were probably golems. And gargoyles on the roofs, too. Not the water-gargling types, the sentient types.

Well, this wouldn’t be my strangest date, but it has to be in the top ten.

As I continued to watch, I noted the shimmering field between the crystals subtly change in color. “Some kind of rotating barrier system? Presumably, you need some kind of item, word, or both to bypass it?” I asked.

“My, you’re more attentive about this sort of thing than I would have expected. You’re right, it is a rotating barrier. It draws from each crystal in sequence, plus always utilizing a second central crystal within the building. It’s primarily a siege defense, not an anti-thievery measure — but it does require certain keys to walk in. At least, for ordinary folk.”

“And I presume our target is inside?”

She laughed. “Our target? No, no. My target is inside. You aren’t getting anywhere near that building.”

I wasn’t sure if I was relieved by that or not. “Okay, let’s back up. What are we doing?”

“So, couple months back, ‘round the start of the tournament, I got to talking with a certain famous gent about doing a joint job. Something that we’d both get some credit for, might be fun, and get us both something we wanted.” Her shoulders sagged. “Thing is, I might have talked it up to some other folks a bit too much. Set some things in motion before everything was set. And now he’s gone, and it’s gonna look bad for us both if I don’t make it work somehow.”

“Gone? You mean your prospective partner died?”

She blinked. “Oh, no, none of that. Just left the city. I probably should have, too, before things got too messy, but I’ve got a rep to maintain. Thing is, he’d probably have stayed, too, if he knew that I’d spread the word about a joint mission happening. And now, if he doesn’t show, he’s gonna look bad, and the whole thing is…ugh.”

“I get all that, but I’m still not big on…cloak and dagger stuff.”

She grinned. “No cloaks here, but admittedly, I do have a lot of daggers. Would it help if I told you that my target is someone legitimately villainous?”

I frowned. “Who are we talking about, here?”

She leaned over and whispered something in my ear.

My eyes widened fractionally. “That’s…yeah, that does change things. It adds some serious risks, though.”

“What, is Keras Selyrian, Wielder of Dawnbringer, averse to a few risks?”

“…Definitely not. But there are conditions. No killing, and we keep collateral damage to an absolute minimum. And you will owe me for this.”

“Fine, fine. I get it. Gotta follow your shiny knight rules. That’s fine, I’m not doing this to hurt people. And yeah, I’ll owe you a favor. Now, as I was saying, my partner bailed…”

“Okay, so…you want me to, what, take his place? Publicly, so he doesn’t take a reputation hit for not being a part of a heist that you…advertised as a team-up for some reason?”

“Hey, you don’t have to sound so judgmental about it. It was going to be a real headliner! People would have talked for years to come…” She shook her head, then straightened, turning to meet my eyes. “And, they might still, if you’re a good fit for a particular coat.”

“A…coat?” I narrowed my eyes. “Who exactly am I supposed to be playing, here?”

A grin spread across her lips, “Congratulations, Keras Selyrian.” She opened a large bag on her side, pulling out a long black coat that couldn’t have possibly fit within the confines of the container. Then, gingerly, she handed it to me. “Or should I say…The Blackstone Bandit.”

I unfolded the coat, lifting it into the air to examine it.

This is going to get me into so much trouble. But life without a little bit of trouble is…

I turned the coat and slipped my arms through the sleeves.

“Huh.” I remarked as the coat settled into place. “It fits just fine.”

***

Minutes later, I was racing from rooftop to rooftop alone. My newly acquired coat whipped in the wind, which I had to hope looked impressive rather than ridiculous.

I was putting on a show, after all.

My mask was still on to block detection magic and prevent anyone from ascertaining my true identity, but that sort of protection was consistent with my role. I planned to attract a bit of attention just while running, then drop down from the rooftop in front of the target building in an impressive, heroic sort of pose.

In order to do that properly, I had to drop down to a shorter set of buildings that were nearer to the structure. I was only about a block away when I hopped down to a nice, flat rooftop. The kind of one that would appeal to any roof-hopping sort that happened to be traveling in my direction, or, you know, trying to ambush me.

I wasn’t exactly surprised when another coat-wearing figure dropped to the top of the roof I was standing on from the opposite side. I was, however, a little concerned when I realized that their coat was almost identical to my own — and they had a more appropriate mask. Pure black, upper face only, in a half-moon sort of shape, with a single glimmering blue gemstone embedded in the forehead.

It was very stylish. Iconic, even.

I pushed my coat back so that I could reach the swords on my belt without interference. My mirror image across the roof did the same.

“Well,” I started, my lips pressing into a smile. “One of us is going to have to change.”

CHAPTER XV – DARK PROJECT FOR A BACKUP BANDIT

When the other figure took a few steps closer, I tensed, but didn’t draw my weapon immediately. They didn’t register as much of a threat.

Daggers instead of swords, rings under their gloves, shorter and lighter than I am. Movements awkward, unpracticed.

“You’re not much of a Blackstone Bandit,” the other prospective Blackstone Bandit told me in a matter-of-fact tone. “You should go home and get some sleep, copycat. Leave this to the professionals.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Professionals? Your coat is too long, your boots are too big, and you’re wearing daggers instead of swords.”

“Well…your coat is stupid!”

“What? How is my coat stupid?” I tried not to be too offended. Personally, I thought the coat made me look quite dashing.

“It’s totally the wrong color!”

I frowned. “How many colors of black are there?”

“Ugh. It’s not supposed to be black. He gets a grey coat in the second book! Did you even read the books?”

I…might have skimmed them a little, but anything involving the name Blackstone tended to set off alarms in my head. That made reading the novels a difficult experience. Defensively, I managed to fall back on a specific relevant detail that I barely remembered from one of Reika’s storytelling sessions. “Oh, come on. Everyone talks about him wearing a black coat. The real one, I mean, not the book character. Who cares if the book version gets a different coat later on?”

They folded their arms. “I care. And besides, the real one does wear grey.”

I rolled my eyes. “Look, I don’t have a grey coat. I’m doing what I can on short notice. Anyway, you’re calling me a copycat, but you can barely walk in those boots, and you’re wearing black, too. You a new recruit for his team, or just in a costume?”

“That’s…classified.” They were going for sounding mysterious, but it didn’t land. I was far too familiar with mysterious rogue-speak for an amateur to catch me off-guard with it.

“Right. Well, classified or not, you’re not on my assignment, and I have work to do, and no time to debate.” I waved a hand and walked forward toward my destination.

They stepped into my path, raising both hands. “Waitwaitwait. You’re heading to the Ravenshade job, yeah?”

I raised an eyebrow, which was admittedly hard to communicate while wearing a mask. “And if I was?”

“You…uh, shouldn’t be here. I mean, um, you shouldn’t go that way.” They let out an exasperated sigh. “You’re heading toward the front door.”

“And?”

“And…you can’t possibly mean to walk right up to them!”

I shrugged. “It’s a distraction.”

“No, no, no.” They let out a sigh, shoulders sagging. “You ‘distract’ the front gate, they raise the alarm, half the city is on alert. That’s not how you do a distraction.”

“I have to be seen, in order to—”

They waved a hand. “Yeah, yeah. So the Blackstone Bandit gets seen being involved. I know. I get it. We’re after the same thing. Just…uh, let me do it? You don’t seem like the subtle type.”

“Admittedly, no. But you don’t seem like the adult type.” I gave them a hard look. From their stance, the tone of their voice, their behavior… “You’re, what, the Blackstone Bandit’s kid sister or something?”

“That’s…ugh! No! I am not a kid!” She crossed her arms in a very kid-like fashion. “I’m an attuned, okay! That makes me an adult!”

I gave her a dubious look. “Right. Well, the Blackstone Bandit might approve of hiring teenagers, but I don’t. And based on your outfit,” I waved at her coat and boots, “I’m pretty sure you’re not exactly on an authorized mission, either.”

“I’m…it was the best I could do on short notice, okay!” She ‘hmpfed’, then shook her head. “Look, we’re wasting time. I don’t know who you are or why you’re here, but I need to make an actual distraction, the kind that won’t make more trouble for Ravenshade. If you want to tag along and see how an actual thief works, great, just don’t get us caught.”

“You’re kidding. I’m not following—”

She turned around and took off, leaping toward the next building. Based on the way her own coat fluttered and the more gradual way she floated to the next roof, I judged that she was propelling herself with some kind of air magic, rather than transference magic or raw physical ability. That helped narrow down her supposed attunement a little, maybe, but not a lot. It could have been a magical item, too.

I shot forward, catching up to her in moments. Air magic made her quicker than your average person, but nothing comparable to what I could manage when I was in a hurry. And I was in a hurry — Ravenshade was likely already in position and either waiting for me or starting without me. Both were bad.

Baby Bandit — that’s what I’m going to call her — gave a little startled ‘eep’ when I landed next to her. I ran beside her silently for a moment, then asked, “Plan?”

To her credit, she seemed to gain her resolve quickly, turning her head toward me just slightly to speak while she continued running toward the next roof. “When you want to make a distraction that doesn’t cause an alarm, you’ve got a few options. Subtlety is key — you want a distraction that doesn’t feel like an attack. Social manipulation is a good option with proper setup, like inviting people out of the building to clear the area, but we don’t have time for that. And with our outfits, we’re not exactly going to be taking anyone out for tea.”

“What about something that would drive people out without bringing in guards, like starting a fire or spreading a terrible odor?”

“First one would bring guards. The second might bring guards; depends on if you’ve got a scent that could come across as plausibly natural. We’ve missed the window on social engineering to start a kitchen fire or something. We need something immediate.”

“What was your plan before I arrived?” I asked.

“Definitely not ‘charge the front gate’ like you seemed to be doing.”

I laughed as we jumped to the next roof. “I wasn’t going to charge, I was going to wave at the guards and run down the street away from the building.”

“That’s kind of worse. At least fighting them would actually bring a big group — announcing your presence without engaging is just begging for the royal guard to show up.”

“Sure, eventually. And I want to be seen. That’s part of—”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Visibility to preserve rep. I get it.” We ran across the next roof. We were almost to the target building. “The smart way would be to make your appearance after Ravenshade is done.”

“Sure, but that doesn’t help her with her side of the work, and that seemed…hard.”

“Yeah, of course it’s hard. That’s part of the point. Ugh. Okay.”

“You don’t have a plan, either, do you?”

“I…was working on one,” she replied in a grumbling tone. “Several, really. One of them was—”

“Time is up.” We landed on the last rooftop before the building we’d been aiming for and stopped. I stopped, scanning the area. If we hopped down now, we’d be in a clear line of sight to the main gate to the palatial complex that Ravenshade was heading toward. I could see the flickering elemental barrier still in place around the whole area. I couldn’t see Ravenshade herself, but I knew she’d be coming from the back side. She hadn’t given me specifics on her method of entry, but I suspected it involved teleportation, or possibly some kind of tunnel beneath the area.

Beyond our target, there were several other buildings nearby. I could see the hedge maze that marked the Royal Retreat not far away, as well as a few other less-impressive mansions and palaces. There were a few other large structures as well — mostly fancy shops and restaurants designed to cater to wealthy clientele.

And one more particular building, just down the street from the entrance. The perfect place for the Blackstone Bandit to make his appearance.

“I’ve got it.” I snapped my fingers.

Baby Bandit turned toward me, looking hesitant. “Yeah? Why do I somehow feel more worried than before?”

“Oh, it’ll be fun, don’t worry.” I walked to the side of the rooftop, pointing downward at an opulent two-story structure. “How do you feel about robbing a bank?”

***

It may surprise you to hear this, but this wasn’t technically my first time breaking into a bank.

Now, given that the first bank break-in experience is among the list of my top early adulthood traumas, you’d think that I probably wouldn’t have wanted anything to remind me of it. But I wasn’t really planning to rob the bank, nor was I planning to, say, get involved in a plot to overthrow a government that was kidnapping and experimenting on other species.

Sorry, side-tracking. That one is a long story.

Anyway, the idea wasn’t going to be to actually steal anything — I wasn’t a thief, and I didn’t intend to be one — but rather to make an effective distraction at a location other than the target manor. One that might draw reinforcements, given the association between those buildings.

You see, Ravenshade’s target was the current residence for visiting members of a relatively famous noble house. The great, the illustrious, and the often-villainous House Haven.

And the bank?

Why, it was, of course, the local branch of Haven Securities. (“We’ll treat your money like it’s our own!” That’s their actual slogan, kids and karvensi. Their actual slogan.)

I had my own particular reasons to want to mess with House Haven a bit. So when I hopped from our current rooftop to the side of the wall for the bank, my feelings were less focused on past bank heist attempts and more on how much fun it would be to tweak the noses of the faction most closely tied with perpetual pains like Jonathan Sterling.

(Sure, maybe his association with the Haven Knights — the military wing of House Haven — had been a paperwork fabrication, but I doubted it. House Haven had their hands in all sorts of underworld affairs. They were bought and paid for by Aayara Haven, after all. The legendary Symphony herself.)

Now, you may be thinking that doing anything to antagonize Aayara would be the world’s worst idea, but she was notoriously hands-off on the day-to-day business of her house. And given that we were on a whole different continent, I sincerely doubted she’d take any interest in what was about to happen. Even if she did, I was pretty heavily disguised, and while I was confident she could see through the mask if she looked straight at me, I didn’t think she’d look into it enough to bother scrying on my location.

I scanned the building from above.

Closed, due to the time of night. Only one guard out front. Lights are on inside, which could mean other people, or they could just keep them on.

Vault is probably in a tougher to access area. Basement would be conventional, or maybe they’ve got something fancy like a portal to an extra-dimensional space. Doesn’t matter. Not here for the money.

I hopped down from a nearby rooftop to a landing on the second floor of the building. Then, with a casual punch, I busted through the wall. I was half-surprised that didn’t set off an immediate alarm, but I was sure I’d get one soon enough. Or maybe the alarm was just inaudible? That might have been better for security.

Punching took my arm through the wall, but didn’t blow through the whole thing, so I took a moment to reshape a doorway. Could have done that immediately, but it wasn’t as dramatic.

A moment later, Baby Bandit landed behind me. “What are you doing?”

“Walking in.” I walked in through my newly-made door. “See?”

She let out an exasperated sigh. “This isn’t going to—”

I ignored her and walked further in, searching the room I’d just busted into.

I was in what looked like a small business office. No people, no obvious traps. Desks, table, couple chairs, cupboards, bookcase. Might have searched it for keys if I was trying to be sneaky. Instead, I just walked on through and turned the doorknob, walking out into a hall with a disbelieving Baby Bandit trailing behind me.

The hallway itself was fairly conventional for an office-style building. There was another door straight ahead of me with a plaque on it listing someone’s name, and a glance told me there were several other similar offices further down on each side of the hall. If I traveled further to the right, I’d hit a stairway leading downstairs. Further to the left, I’d eventually reach larger double doors. That one was labeled “Branch Manager’s Office”.

Hm. That office might be a good place to make some chaos, or I could keep looking for the vault. Let’s see.

The moment I stepped into the hall, there was a flash from a tiny rune on one of the walls near the stairway that I hadn’t noticed. Instinctively, I drew the Pale Crescent to try to block whatever projectile was coming at me, but no such attack manifested. Instead, a person appeared next to me — a young man with bright blue hair, a fancy tailored suit, and horn-rimmed glasses.

My sword flicked upward into a defensive stance. If he noticed it, he didn’t panic, which was pretty impressive. Instead, he said, “Greetings, customer! I’m your Personal Banking Assistant. How may I be of service to you today?”

I stared at him.

Baby Bandit moved up from behind me. “Hi, assistant. We’re looking for the route to the vault. Can you take us there?”

“I’m sorry, the vault is for authorized personnel only. I’ll need your access code if you—”

Baby Bandit moved past me, leaned over, and whispered something in Personal Banking Assistant’s ear. The latter’s eyes widened for a moment, then he took a step back and bowed deeply at the waist. “Of course, Miss. You’ll want to head straight down the stairs, turn right, then head down the next stairway.”

“Not the dummy vault. The actual vault.” Baby Bandit folded her arms.

“Um…yes, of course. For that, you’ll need to visit…I’m not authorized…”

Baby Bandit stared daggers at him.

He lifted his hands defensively. “I’m afraid I’ll need to check in with central for such an unusual request. Have a nice day!”

“Wait, no!” Baby Bandit reached to grab for him just as he vanished.

I turned my head toward her. “Well, that was interesting. Connections with the bank?”

“Nothing you need to know about. Come on.” She jerked a thumb at the Branch Manager’s Office. “This place will be swarming with guards soon. If you want to find anything interesting before that…”

I wasn’t sure if I’d find anything interesting that way, but it did sound better than going for the vault, especially if the basement area’s vault was a “dummy vault”.

Where’d she learn about that? Who is she?

It didn’t matter, ultimately. In a heartbeat, I was at the door to the Branch Manager’s Office. With the Pale Crescent already in hand, it just took a couple flicks of my wrist to cut the door to shreds. There was the telltale flicker of defensive magic as I sliced through, but I didn’t even feel any resistance. With my aura wrapped around the sword, the barrier on the door was too weak to offer any protection.

Wait, when did I wrap my aura around the Pale Crescent?

I didn’t remember doing that at all, but there it was, tearing the very air around my curved white blade.

Well, that’s another problem for future me.

I shook my head, kicking in the last segment of shredded doorway.

The branch manager’s office was considerably larger and more impressive, with gold and red carpeting, a much fancier desk, and some finely-crafted suits of armor lining the walls. I was admiring their craftsmanship when red eyes flickered into existence in their visors and they began to move.

Ooh! Golems!

I shot forward toward the closest of the four armor suits. In the process, I stepped on something in the center of the carpet that made an audible ‘click’, and tubes on the ceiling began to spit out some kind of gas.

Oh, gas. That’s less fun.

The first golem — the one I’d rushed toward — raised a hand to draw a gigantic two-handed sword from the pedestal it was standing on. “Intruder. Surrender and die.”

I blinked. “Shouldn’t that be surrender or—”

The golem swung his greatsword at me with surprising speed and force. Surprising, but ultimately nowhere near sufficient.

I grabbed the sword by the blade with my free hand.

I’m sorry, sword. You did nothing wrong.

The sword’s blade separated from the hilt at my command, then I smashed the separated blade across the golem’s face. As the helmet spun briefly out of position, I hurled the blade straight into the vizor of the next nearest golem, downing it in an instant.

Yes, I know I’ve said that swords aren’t made for throwing. I’m an expert, kids. Don’t try this on your own.

My right hand whipped upward, cutting off one of the nearest golem’s arms before it could reorient, then I stepped in and grabbed it with my left. With direct contact, it was easy to view the metal structure and find what I was looking for.

I tore the core right out of the golem’s chest.

I spun to find Baby Bandit still in the doorway, staring at me. With a flick of my sword, I deflected an arrow from another trap on the wall. “We need to get out, the gas is going to—”

“I’ll handle it. Winds of change, swirl at my command, form within my hand!” A tiny tornado manifested in her hand, then spread and split into four distinct tornadoes. With a flinging motion, she directed them toward the tubes on the walls. They seemed to gather the dark gas that had been spreading across the room, trapping it in tight spheres near the points they’d emitted from.

“Huh. Neat spell.” I deflected a thrust spear from another golem, then casually smashed the spear to bits. Another arrow trap fired, this time toward the doorway. I shot forward, catching it in my off-hand, then threw it into another golem’s eyepiece.

Arrows also aren’t for throwing, by the way. Unless you’re me.

“Who…how…”

I spun, bored of the unsatisfying fight, and sent a trio of crescent shockwaves in three different directions.

I sheathed my sword, stepping toward the large desk. The golems lurched forward to continue to fight, only to fall to pieces as they moved. I’d cut them all in half with my last movement.

A good old-fashioned thump on the top of the desk triggered a dart trap, which I side-stepped. Then, I swiftly began to search through the drawers.

Baby Bandit finally rushed into the room, searching from side-to-side nervously. “I think I hear people coming from downstairs.”

“Uh-huh.” I dumped out a drawer on the ground, ignoring the contents.

“Maybe we should, you know, go?”

“Just a second, it should be…”

She sighed. “Check for false bottoms on the drawers.”

I blinked. “People actually use those?”

“Uh-huh.”

Sure enough, the bottom right drawer did have a false bottom. And, sure enough, there were people coming — lots of them. I saw a half-dozen attuned marching down the hallway, weapons already in hand.

I broke open the secret compartment, which triggered another trap — a vial of something exploded within the compartment, soaking and destroying a folder of documents inside. I was quick enough to reach in and grab something else from within before the fluid reached it, though: a key.

I pocketed the key, then stood and headed to the doorway just before the approaching guards arrived.

“Stop right there!” The leader of the security team stepped forward, carrying a classic sword and tower shield pairing.

“Sure. Would you like any particular pose?” I stretched, cracking my neck. “I’ll admit I don’t have a lot of time, but if you have an artist available…”

A blast of lightning flickered from one of the guards behind the leader. I punched it out of the air. “Okay, rude.”

A hail of crossbow bolts followed.

Magnetic repulse.

The bolts bounced harmlessly away before they struck me, then I slammed the floor with a boot. Not to make a wall, but to reshape one — I created an opening in the wall to my right, opening straight into the air of the night. “Out you go,” I said, directing my voice toward Baby Bandit.

“But…”

“I’ll catch up, go on.”

She waited no further, jumping straight out the door.

“Hey, wait!” The leader charged, probably hoping to get past me and stop Baby Bandit before she got too far.

Body of Stone.

As soon as he got close enough to take a swing, I stepped in and punched his shield with enough force to hurl him straight back down the hallway into the closest member of his team. They collapsed on the floor in a pile. Another blast of lightning followed, which I dissipated with a quickly-formed blade of cutting force around my hand.

Release Body of Stone.

“That it?” I asked. “How long before the reinforcements get here?’

The leader growled, picking himself back up. “You caught me off-guard there, but I—”

I slammed the ground with a foot again, reshaping the stone right beneath the leader. It tore through the carpet and formed around his legs, holding them in place.

“Don’t be rude. I asked you a question. When are your reinforcements arriving?” I conjured a ball of flame above my right hand.

“Only minutes.” One of the other guards said. “Then you’ll be dead. We’re Haven Securities. No one messes with Haven Securities.”

I raised a hand to my chest in a mocking gesture of shock. “Haven Securities? Oh, dear! I must have taken a right at the wrong street. I thought I was robbing an entirely different multinational bank!”

Apparently disliking my attitude, someone fired another crossbow bolt at me. I caught it — I was making a habit of that lately — then threw it into the wall next to the man’s head.

He stilled, dropping his weapon.

With a gesture at the crossbow, I spoke again. “That’s the right idea. The rest of you should do the same, otherwise I start actually attacking.”

“Who…are you?” The leader asked, eyes showing fear for the first time.

“Haven’t you heard?” I bowed deeply at the waist. “I’m the dashing, daring, and debonair duelist — the dreaded duke of debauchery. The Blackstone Bandit!” My smile grew. “Limit one autograph per person.”

There was a crash as something colossal tore through the wall of the building behind me — a hideous serpentine monster with four scythe-like arms and acid dropping from its jaws. I had no idea what it was, so I mentally named it a “scythe beast”.

Finally, a real—

My thought was interrupted by a ringing in my ear, followed by the sound of a familiar voice.

{We’ve got problems! They’re sending backup your way, get out!}

Ravenshade’s voice. It was some kind of long-distance messaging spell.

I hesitated. Fighting their backup sounded fun…but it wasn’t my job, and I had a Baby Bandit to protect.

With a forlorn look at the scythe beast, I ran and jumped straight out the window.

Body of Dawn.

I hit the side of the nearest building, then ran straight up the wall.

In a few moments of absurd speed, I was three buildings away, leaving the bank — and what looked like an actual opponent — far behind.

I caught up to Baby Bandit a few moments later. Her eyes widened at my blurred form approaching her. I slowed down.

Release Body of Dawn.

“You okay?” I asked.

“Y—yeah. Do you hear that?” She asked.

“Hear what?” If I focused, I could hear the distant sound of some kind of high-pitched ringing…coming straight from the building that Ravenshade had targeted. “Oh…huh. That’s…probably not something that should be happening.”

Baby Bandit frowned. “Looks like she may not be much better at stealth than you are.”

“Hey. I wasn’t trying to be stealthy. And don’t insult Ravenshade.”

She snorted. “Why? She your girlfriend or something?”

“Nothing like that. Our relationship is purely professional…ish.”

She gave me a weird look as we kept running, jumping to another roof. “Whatever, weirdo. You going to be okay on your own from here?”

“You’re asking me that?”

“Uh, yeah. Old people like you sometimes need minders, you know?’

I growled. “I am not that old.”

She laughed. “Sure thing, gramps. If you insist you’re okay, I’m getting gone. That was more than enough excitement for one night.”

“Are you going to be okay?”

“Uh, yeah. Not like I’m the one that thing is following.” She turned to run backward, pointing a finger.

I spun in place, following her gesture, and let out a gleeful cry as I saw a gigantic monster jumping from rooftop to rooftop after us.

“Scythe beast! You came!” I clapped my hands in excitement.

“You’re pretty weird, you know that?” Baby Bandit sighed. “You sure you’ve got this?”

“Yep.” I stopped running. “Get going, kid. Nice meeting you.”

“Yeah…sure. Likewise, I guess.” She paused at the edge of the roof. “Don’t get killed.”

Then she leapt away, and I walked back to the center of my current rooftop, waiting.

It only took a few more moments for the scythe beast to catch up to me. My smile broadened as it uncoiled the bulk of its strange body, shifting to stand more than ten feet in height.

“You a summon or an actual monster?” I asked.

Scythe beast hissed at me in reply, then pulled its head back and inhaled.

I knew what that usually meant. I jumped to the side just before it exhaled a spray of acid across the rooftop. The line of gunk burned straight through the stone when it landed, but not a drop of it landed on me.

“Acid breath. Nice. Haven’t seen that one in a while.” I drew the Pale Crescent. “Look, if I don’t know if you’re a summon, I can’t use full force. Can you maybe help clarify—”

The scythe-beast surged at me at high speed, raising a gigantic scythe arm to strike.

I sighed, stepped inside its guard and slammed a fist into its chest. I felt something snap inside the monster’s body and it bent double, letting out a hacking cough.

“Oh, no! I am so sorry!” I winced, sheathing my sword. “I’ve been doing some strength training lately and…”

The scythe beast swept a bladed arm at me. I grabbed the limb, then before I processed what I was doing, I was using the monster’s weight and momentum to hurl it.

A moment later, the scythe beast was flying straight off the rooftop. I heard a crack as it smacked into the next building over, then fell straight down to the street below.

Another crack as it landed. I winced.

It was…probably fine.

When I walked to the edge of the building to check on it, I saw it vanish, then sensed movement behind me and spun again.

A torrent of black smoke announced the arrival of a black-garbed figure with short auburn hair. Her outfit had been badly burned in several places. Twilight’s Edge was in her right hand, the runes on its blade shimmering in contrast to the black metal. A bleeding gash was stretched across her right cheek, which honestly just made her more attractive.

She stumbled a step as she appeared. I surged forward and caught her. “You okay?”

Her gaze met mine. “Better, now.” A smirk stretched across her lips. “You did good, Blackstone Bandit. Made quite a show. But now, I think, it’s time to go.”

***

Minutes later, we were running across the rooftops in a completely different part of town, while shadowy copies of both of us were running in several other directions as distractions.

We didn’t stop for some time, and when we finally did, we were half-way across the city from where we’d started. We jumped from a building into an alley, then she opened up a grate in the ground. “In.”

“Really? A sewer? I thought that kind of escape route was just a stereotype.”

Ravenshade snorted. “They sometimes work. But this isn’t a sewer. Come on, in.”

I climbed down the ladder and found myself in a dark tunnel. Ravenshade climbed down behind me, pausing to put the grate back in place.

Hm. It really doesn’t smell like a sewer down here. But then…oh.

Something clicked in my mind. “The island’s maintenance tunnels? For keeping the whole thing afloat?”

“Got it in one. Well, two, if you count the sewer guess. I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt on that one. Come on.”

She led me down a hallway, which fortunately had glowing mana crystals on the walls to illuminate the area. Sewer or not, I was glad I could avoid conjuring fire.

One hallway led to another, then a door, and then more and more tunnels. I wasn’t sure I could navigate my way back out without her help…which may have been part of the point. More importantly, though, it did seem like a pretty legitimate way to avoid anyone following us, especially given that Ravenshade seemed to have some kind of spell that was erasing our tracks behind us.

“Where are we headed?” I asked.

“You’ll see. We’re almost there, and it’ll be a fun surprise.” She grabbed my hand, which was a little surprising, but welcome.

Another ten minutes or so of walking. We traversed more halls, then some stairways leading downward. Eventually, we arrived at a heavy iron door. I expected that to lead into something like a hidden lair, but when she fished out a key and unlocked it, I found something very different.

I gasped at the sight.

Thin wooden walkways with narrow guard rails were the only path ahead of us. Around them? Nothing but open air.

I stepped out onto one of the platforms, gazing upward first, then down. Above me was solid stone, embedded with huge glimmering crystals and dozens — maybe hundreds — of runes etched into elaborate patterns around each of them.

And down below…well, the continent of Kaldwyn. Beneath us was a tremendous forest, and I could see what looked like a grouping of farmsteads near a distant edge of it. Not far from that was the edge of a pristine lake, and beyond that lake, a town that was so tiny that I could barely make out any details.

For a moment, I gaped at the sight.

We were on the underside of Arena Island.

Ravenshade stepped up beside me, grinning. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

“The landscape is pretty good, but that smile of yours…” I flashed her a grin of my own.

“You’re working hard on that charm tonight.” She rested her head against my shoulder. “A girl could get used to that.”

I hesitated for a moment. Was…that something I wanted?

Maybe sensing my awkwardness, Ravenshade laughed. “Relax. I’m not proposing anything serious. Don’t know you that well, and with my business…it gets messy. Still…sometimes it’s nice to pretend. Even for a little while.”

“Yeah.” I pulled her a little closer. Distantly, I could almost see the sun beginning to rise on the horizon, the brilliant burning of color chasing away the remnants of the night. I turned my head toward her. “This really is a beautiful view.”

***

We waited there for hours in near silence, watching the night give way to day. It was a cold night, but together, we had warmth.

But when the sun finally burned away the last vestiges of the night sky, Ravenshade’s smile died on her lips, and she pulled herself out of my embrace. “Thank you for a lovely night.”

“I hope we can do it again sometime.”

She shook her head. “I…don’t think that’s wise. But maybe…” She frowned, looking away. “Maybe sometime. I do still need to give you the reward we agreed on.”

I fished out the key from the Bank Manager’s office from my pocket, handing it to her. “In case you need it.”

She gave a delighted laugh. “Thanks. I doubt it’ll come up, but you never know.”

“We could head back to the surface together?” I offered.

She shook her head. “No…I think it’s best if we part here. It’ll be easier. Goodbye, Wielder of Dawnbringer.”

“Good night, Wielder of Twilight’s Edge.” After a moment, I added. “And you can call me Keras.”

There was a pause. Then she leaned closer, whispering in my ear, “Teletha.”

With a wink, she pulled away. Then, with one final forlorn look, she stepped backward—

In a burst of smoke, the night was gone. And in the warmth of the rising sun, I was all alone.

CHAPTER XVI – ALLIANCE FOR VENGEANCE

I found Reika asleep back at the Study of Iron…

…in my bed.

She didn’t wake when I walked into the room, exhausted, and set down my gear. So, I sat down on the bed and softly petted her hair.

She curled a little closer to me.

<She was up late waiting for you.>

Dawn’s voice in my mind startled me. I hadn’t even sensed her under the covers, but there she was, tangled in the blankets with Reika.

Sorry. I didn’t think she’d…

<Be worried? Come on, Keras. You were out with another wielder. One who is a literal master thief. Of course she’d be worried!>

She? I smirked at the sword. You’re up awful early, Dawn. Is it possible she’s not the only one who was worried?

<That’s…absurd. Don’t make things up, Keras. It’s not like I was awake the whole night thinking about how you were with another one of the sacred swords or anything.>

Right. Obviously.

<Obviously.> She repeated in a softer tone.

I’m fine. It was a bit of an adventure, but I’m safe.

<I…Reika will be very relieved to hear that.>

I smirked. I’m sure she will be.

<But, uh…Keras. There’s something important.>

Oh?

<Can you…maybe hide your boots?>

I blinked. Why?

<I may or may not have bet Reika that the Phantom Thief was going to steal them. You know, after you two had a long night of aggressive thrusting and parrying.>

I sighed and slipped off my boots. Then, in a moment of shared mischief, I hid them under the bed.

<…Thanks. My pocketbook owes you a debt of gratitude.>

You have a pocketbook?

<Let’s not worry about the details.>

Right. I snorted. Since you and Reika have stolen my bed, is that an invitation for me to get in there with you?

<Wow, so forward. Two-timing your new fencing friend so soon?>

Well, we had a previous fencing relationship, Dawn. And in Reika’s books, sometimes it’s a bit of jealousy that helps pairs get back together.

<Let’s not get too far ahead of ourselves, Keras. But for tonight…yeah. I wouldn’t mind if you…>

I slipped in under the covers without any further hesitation, slipping an arm under Reika and pulling her closer. Okay, sounds good. Night, Dawn. Sleeping or not, Reika was a pro cuddler, and she snuggled up against me instantly.

<…Good night, Keras. And…>

Hmm?

<I’m glad you’re safe.>

***

When I woke the next morning, Reika was gone.

So were my boots.

No, not the Planelock Boots. Those were fine. My normal boots were missing.

I never did discover if Reika had found them and taken them in the morning as a form of petty vengeance for playing along with Dawn’s bet, or if somehow, in the end, the Phantom Thief Ravenshade had actually stolen my boots.

***

The next day was an odd one. We were rapidly approaching the semi-finals for the tournament, but my encounter with Ravenshade was still on my mind.

…And so was Akadi. He was still out there somewhere, plotting or worse.

I paid another visit to Hannah, asking about progress in finding him. She reported none, explaining that she was reasonably confident that he’d pulled any remaining bodies he had off of this world entirely.

That didn’t mean that he’d lost interest, of course. It just implied that he was nursing his wounds and planning, or that he simply had strong enough detection-blocking magic that Hannah’s forces couldn’t find him.

That made me terribly nervous — as long as Akadi had the element of surprise, people were going to die.

I wished Wrynn was around. If anyone could have tracked Akadi down, it was her. As it was, I tried exploring several other routes — asking random Diviners to try to scry on Akadi based on the little gem sliver that I had in my possession, tracking down Ishyeal and asking him if he’d made any progress…nothing panned out.

As much as I loathed it, I couldn’t find any way to strike first.

And so, with Akadi holding the advantage of surprise, I got back to training.

When he struck again, I needed to be ready.

***

For the first time in days, Meilin answered when I knocked on her door. Her question was in Cas, but I understood the intent. “Who’s there?”

“It’s Keras.”

Silence, at first. Then, after a few moments, words in Valian. “…You are persistent. I have no business with you.”

“This isn’t about business, Meilin. I just…I need to apologize. And you’ve been distant lately. Not just from me, from everyone. I thought it might help—”

The door flew open. Meilin stood in the doorway, trembling with anger. “Haven’t you helped enough?”

“I…”

Her dark eyes narrowed at me. “The Wielder of Dawnbringer. They say that you’re a hero of legend. A champion of righteousness.” She shook her head. “I believed that once. I welcomed you, as we all did. But you have proven no hero, no savior. You have left a trail of bodies in your wake. You have stolen my family. You have shattered my home.”

I took a step back, my mouth opening and closing without words.

For a time, we simply stared at each other. Then, she moved to close the door.

“Wait.” I stepped forward again. “Please.”

She gave me a look of disgust. “I have nothing to say to you.”

“I need you to know that I didn’t want any of this to happen. I wanted to save them. I wish…” I sighed. “I failed them, and you’re furious at me for that. I get it. I just…want to do whatever I can, no matter how small, to make this easier for you.”

Meilin just glared at me harder. “No. You want to forgive yourself. You want closure. And you think that helping me might help you forgive yourself. I have no interest in easing your pain. You should hurt. I want you to hurt. For as long as possible.”

She slammed the door in my face.

Good work, Keras. That went well.

I lowered my head and walked away.

***

I never was good at letting things go.

I came back two hours later. Again, I knocked. Again, she opened the door, then just folded her arms. “What?” Meilin asked. “What can you possibly—”

I shoved something toward her. A pair of glimmering crystals. “Here. Just take them, and I’ll leave you alone.”

She looked them over, processing. “Those are…memory crystals?”

I nodded. “They’re mine. They’re of…when I failed you. Failed your family. Both times.”

“You…you made these for me?”

I shook my head. “Sort-of. I went to a Diviner and had it done, I can’t make them myself. I don’t have that type of magic.”

“But…you do not trust anyone to touch your mind. Rei has spoken much of this to me.”

I nodded firmly. “I had many questions for the Diviner. Many demands. I was still uncomfortable, but…you mentioned closure, and I thought that maybe seeing it might…”

Meilin looked at the crystals, then shifted her gaze to meet my eyes. “I will never forgive you. This will not change that.”

“I know.” I stepped closer, extending the crystals toward her. “But I hope that these might help you forgive yourself.”

She hesitated. Then, after a heartbeat, she reached out, her fingers closing around the crystals. Meilin closed her eyes, taking a deep, steadying breath. “…Come inside.”

I stepped into the room. She closed the door behind us.

***

I sat in a chair by her bed as she activated the first crystal, then the second.

I waited quietly, remembering. Estimating the place of each memory as I watched tears slide down Meilin’s eyes.

The Pale King. Xiaofan. Ishyeal.

I ended the first memory crystal when the crown princess had arrived at the battlefield.

And then with the second, I showed her my rush through the Royal Retreat. The battles with the shades. The people that I stopped to heal.

The battle with Akadi.

And one brave child’s end.

When Meilin’s eyes fluttered open, they saw differently. “I…”

I passed her a handkerchief. She wiped at her face.

We sat in silence, for a time. Then she set down the handkerchief and turned back to me. “…You tried to save him. The light magic. You were trying to free him.”

“I did. But in the end, he was the one who saved me.”

Her eyes shut. “You…you told me before, but seeing it myself…through your eyes…” She laughed, the tiniest smile cracking her lips. “He died just the way he would have wanted to.”

I lowered my head. “…Yeah.”

Another awkward silence. That went on for a while.

“…I do not forgive you, Keras Selyrian.”

I looked up, meeting her eyes again. They were still reddened from the passage of so many tears.

I wondered if my own looked the same way. I didn’t respond immediately.

“I do not forgive you,” she repeated more quietly, “but I do understand better, now. And…I thank you for this. Seeing it…” Meilin shook her head. “Ari died well…and you avenged him. I…could not see clearly what you did, in the end of the vision. That technique…the world sped by too quickly for me to see. But I saw the result. You destroyed him. The one that killed my brother is gone.” Her shoulder slumped. “I…there is a part of me that hates you for stealing my chance at revenge. But there is a better part of me that is grateful. Grateful that Ari’s killer is gone.”

“…That may not be entirely true.”

Meilin nodded. “I recall your earlier words and what Reika told me. The monster that took my family has more than one body. More than one soul.” Her fist tightened. “Akadi…he must have already infected my siblings before Hannah brought them home, all those months ago.”

“…Wait, what?” I blinked. “What does Hannah have to do with this?”

“…Did no one tell you? Hannah is the one who brought my siblings home when they were wounded at the Earth Temple. She was with another team that was waiting to enter, and when Xiaofan and Ari emerged wounded, she abandoned her plans to escort them back to Edria.”

I frowned. “Hannah told me she’d never visited the Earth Temple.”

“You spoke to her…? Ah, yes. After the battle…of course.” Meilin shook her head. “What she said was true, in a sense — she never had the chance to enter. She had been seeking a boon of her own, but she lost that chance when she decided to carry my family back here.”

“She…do you think she knew that they were…”

“Possessed?” Meilin shook her head fervently. “No. None of us recognized it. Hannah was a stranger to us at that point. Perhaps she has chosen to involve herself in this affair as her own form of atonement for failing to see the signs.”

My frown deepened.

That was possible, but…I knew Hannah was more than willing to lie.

And if Hannah had lied to me, or at least mislead me, about visiting the Earth Temple…what else had she been lying about? Was it possible she knew more about Akadi than she’d let on?

Could she have…planned some of this, somehow?

Unfortunately, even with those suspicions, I had no easy way of investigating. She was in the royal guard — one of the highest positions in the nation. I didn’t have the resources to try to spy on her. Simply telling her that I had suspicions was out of the question — it would just put me in a worse position for future dealings with her. “Do me a favor and be careful with Hannah. I don’t think she’s telling us everything.”

“Perhaps not. But from what I have seen…” Meilin shook her head. “I do not think she planned this. Then again, I suppose I am not such a reliable judge of character, am I? I could not even see when my sister was…” She lowered her head again. “I…knew that she was behaving differently when she came home. I…just thought she was mad at me. Angry because…if I had gone…maybe their team wouldn’t have died. Maybe they wouldn’t have been injured. I blamed myself for that, but…this…the truth is so much worse.”

“They might not have been possessed at that point. It may have been more gradual, like…an infection, causing symptoms that get worse over time. Or maybe something else happened as a catalyst, to…”

“I don’t need to talk about this. I don’t want to talk about this.”  Meilin’s hands tightened. “All that matters is one thing. You’ve reminded me of something important — the killer is still out there. Some fraction of him, at least.”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have…”

“No,” she raised her head, the faintest smile crossing her lips. “That’s…better. That means he may yet have a chance to die at my hand.”

“Meilin, that may not be a good—”

“I am no fool.” She stood up suddenly, stomping the ground. “I know I would stand no chance against what you fought. Not in a direct confrontation.”

“If you want to fight him, I could—”

Meilin shoved the crystals back toward me. “I will not forget that you have done me a kindness today, Keras. But we are not friends, and I do not trust you. For grandmother’s sake, and for Rei’s, I will continue to tolerate your presence in my home.” She took a breath. “…And for the sake of our shared goals, I will speak to you again if you come to me. I will train with you. But this is to be our last discussion of this matter, do you understand?”

“I…I do understand.” I nodded.

And I did.

I understood enough to know that I might have just made another terrible mistake.

Meilin was still on my mind when I headed back to my room. I might have eased her burden. I might have even repaired a little bit of her opinion of me.

But she’d been right from the start:

Sometimes, the more I tried to fix things, the more people I ended up breaking along the way.

***

I spent some time training to clear my mind, then later in the day, I paid a visit to Lia to ask something I should have checked a long time before. “Any insight on the next match?”

“Very little.” She looked a little disappointed with herself as she admitted that. “The theme is ‘survival’, though.”

“Team or solo?”

She shook her head. “Not sure, sorry. No pre-made teams, at least. The advantages seem to be built around starting positions in the area, from what I’ve heard.”

That was something, at least. I briefly pondered buying an advantage, but I chose against it. I was at the point range where I could finally buy an Emerald-level item if I scored high enough.

Maybe something to help me focus the Dominion Breaker’s power more effectively, allowing me to use the Spell Breaker technique with less collateral damage.

But there’s something even more important, if I can save up enough…

I restocked my healing potions, but that was the last of my major expenses.

With all that done, I got back to training. I spent some time sparring with Walter and Reika. I considered asking Meilin to train as well, since she’d seemed open to the idea…but it was too soon. I planned to approach her again in a few days.

I looked for Taer’vys, both to ask him about training against petrification magic and to see if he could tell me more about the situation with Velthryn…but I couldn’t find him anywhere. I tried sending him a couple messages, but I didn’t get any replies.

I debated asking Iron about where I could find Taer’vys, but I thought better of it. I did, however, ask her about Velthryn itself. Sadly, she didn’t have much new to contribute. When she’d visited Mythralis, Velthryn had been a flourishing city, just as when I’d been there. When I asked her about the incongruities with historical records, she told me she’d just assumed that the city had been destroyed in the past and rebuilt. She seemed confused that I was even asking about it, so I didn’t tell her too much about my suspicions or what Taer’vys had told me.

While she couldn’t help me directly, she did point me to a few more bookstores and libraries to search for more information. With her instructions, I managed to find one relevant section in a general history book.

It was the autumn of 3125 in the local calendar when the city of Velthryn, a metropolis near the center of the continent of Mythralis, was obliterated nearly overnight. Reports from survivors are vague and inconsistent, but most believe that the assault began in the Crown district near the city’s center. Survivors speak of the dead rising and attacking the living, as well as strange, otherworldly beasts appearing in the streets and skies.

The city mounted a defense, but the attack occurred from within the heart of the city and in the middle of the night. As defenders fell, they rose and joined the attackers. This has led many scholars to believe that the assault was caused by the Xixian Empire, due to their practice of animating corpses to use as shock troops in earlier historical battles, but there are no known reports of seeing Xixian banners or esharen forces in general on the battlefield.

As the risen dead spread like a plague throughout the city, various evacuation measures were implemented. Some evacuation sites were seemingly compromised, leading to loss of life at some of the designated shelters and suspicions of betrayal from some of the city’s defenders. Eventually, a significant group managed to escape the city and flee to nearby Pelyr, where they were able to find temporary aid. Given the sheer number of refugees, many eventually were forced to make their way elsewhere. It was at this point that the goddess Selys appeared and guided many of the survivors to the sea, and then across it, to our new home in Kaldwyn.

Finally, I had some clarity on when the event occurred. The fall season of 3125 was, just as Taer’vys had claimed, two years in the future…assuming I hadn’t been in some kind of stasis for four-hundred years. I still wasn’t clear on what was happening with that, but that passage — if it was accurate — gave me a clearer idea of the timeline. An exact date would have been nice, but a season was still helpful. It also gave me some hints about the starting point and the threats I might face if I tried to stop the event.

The dead rising in the streets…I was having nightmares about that back during the Trials of Unyielding Steel, when Asphodel’s oracular powers were giving us all strange dreams. She didn’t want me to interfere with anything fate-related, but…I can’t just stand by and let this happen.

All-in-all, this is excellent new information.

I wasn’t able to find much else, but I was pleased to make some progress and grateful for Iron’s help. I’d look into it more eventually, but for the moment, I had more pressing concerns. If I wanted to save my home, I needed all the power I could get.

Diamantine. With a weapon like that, I’d be one step closer to a fighting chance.

I braced myself and headed toward the arena.

The semi-finals were about to begin.

CHAPTER XVII – DUNGEON HACK

Reika and I headed toward the arena waiting room. We’d been slotted in at the same time, which was both good and bad. I didn’t know if she’d be pitted against me, and I honestly wasn’t in the right frame of mind to compete against her or Dawn.

“Last chance for you to come with me, Dawn.” I mentioned as we walked. Reika was wearing Dawn on her left hip, but we were walking close enough that I could hear Dawn’s thoughts even without being in contact with her — as long as Dawn wanted me to, at least.

“Might not be a bad idea,” Reika noted. “I’m not going to wield you out there. You’d get more action with Keras.”

<I…think I’ll stick with you, Rei. I can still defend you, even if you won’t draw me.>

They’d been practicing that a bit — Dawn was getting better at using Bright Reflection as an aura around Reika’s body, rather than just around her own blade. It was much more mana intensive that way, though, and she could only use it two or three times before burning through her whole mana pool.

Notably, Dawn’s mana pool had increased considerably throughout the tournament as a whole. Close to doubled, I suspected. It was a shame to burn through so much of it on a couple spells.

<It is not a waste of mana, Keras.>

I glanced at Dawn. “I didn’t say it was.”

<Yeah, but you were thinking it. You’re right that the reflection aura isn’t as cheap as using it the normal way, but there are advantages. People expect my blade to reflect spells — they don’t expect spells to bounce right off Rei.>

“It’s a good trick, but if you start using it regularly, people will learn and adapt.”

<We’re at the end of the tournament. Not a lot of time left for that.>

“True. But your other abilities are being wasted if you’re not actually being used as a sword.”

<Please continue to flatter me, but I’ve made up my mind for this round. If you continue to praise me, who knows? Maybe I’ll forgive you for cheating on me with tall, dark, and shady.>

Is…that supposed to be a description of Ravenshade, or of her sword?

<Yes.>

“Ah, so you’re jealous of both of them. Got it.”

<I am not jealous! I’m just…concerned!>

I shook my head.

“If you two are done flirting, we’re here.” Reika jerked a thumb at the door to the waiting room. “Decision’s made, Keras. She sticks with me for now. You can try to win her heart again after this match.”

“Fair. Any last bits you want to discuss before we go in?”

Reika shrugged. “Not really. I did get one bit of advice from Shun, though.”

I blinked. “Oh? What’d he have to say?”

She smiled. “Try not to die.”

***

Our time in the waiting room was mercifully brief. I saw a couple familiar faces in there — Alexander, Meilin, and Walter were all in the same room with us. Meilin and Reika sat close to each other without speaking. I chose to wait with Walter, mostly chatting about unrelated stuff.

There was no explanation of the match’s rules. Instead, we were each given a small bag and told to open it after the match started. I noted that some of the bags were differently sized and I could sense different amounts of metal within them. Given that Alexander had the largest bag, I presumed it had something to do with buying advantages. He seemed like the type to blow points on that sort of thing.

Once we had our bags, we were directed to different entrance doors. I gave Reika and Dawn one final nod, then stepped through into the unknown.

***

After recovering from the usual disorientating moments that came from teleportation, I processed what I could of my surroundings. That wasn’t saying much — it was dark enough that I could barely make out any details of my surroundings. From the fetid scent in the air and the feeling of something soft beneath my boots, I wasn’t in a dark room, though. I was outdoors, and if my past experiences had anything to say about the smell…

I pulled Feather Light — currently in the form of a dagger on my belt — out of its scabbard. Instantly, the blade’s light illuminated the area. It wasn’t as impressive of an effect as Dawn’s light, but that did make it practical rather than half-blinding.

With that new source of illumination, I quickly confirmed what I’d suspected. I stood on half-solid ground surrounded by muddy liquid that could hardly be called water. Above me was an all-encompassing canopy of trees and vines, letting only a tiny fraction of starlight into the area. The scent came along with half-visible wafts of gas from the liquid that dominated the terrain.

Adventurers come from all walks of life, but regardless of origin and skills, nearly every one I’ve met has shared one commonality — a loathing for swamps.

As a large bubble appeared in the not-water nearby and I reached up to cover my nose from the stench with a sleeve, I rapidly remembered why.

Reika is going to hate this…or, wait. She’s just going to fly up and go straight through the canopy, isn’t she? Ugh. Wings are so unfair.

After an immediate check for threats, I decided I was safe enough for the moment to open the bag that I’d been given and look inside. That meant temporarily tucking my dagger under a shoulder to have both hands free to manipulate the bag, and also having to move my arm away from blocking my nose, both of which were regrettable actions.

Still, opening the bag was worthwhile in terms of clarifying my situation. Inside, I found four things.

First, a palm-sized piece of a stone tablet with a single rune etched into it. Based on the jagged edges of the rock, it was clearly one part of a larger whole, and I suspected it would serve some magical function if I reunited it with the other bits.

Second, I found an unadorned bronze key.

Third, a scrap of marked fabric, about a hand-span in length with a number of symbols on it. It was torn on two sides.

Ah, it’s a piece of a map. Bet there are people out there with other fragments I could put together. Maybe the people who bought an advantage got a full map.

Finally, a piece of parchment with writing on it. I had to shuffle the other items back into the bag to be able to unfurl the parchment properly, then held Feather Light up to read it.

Deep within the Blighted Bog,

Lies a temple lost to time,

Many heroes sought to find it,

And its many levels climb.

But with every treasure sought,

Comes a risk to heroes bold,

Deep beneath the hallowed halls,

Lies a foe of legends old.

Seek out the beacons bright and bold,

Ancient seals of binding light,

Together four will seal the lair,

And ward the foes that none can fight.

Stray not from the hallowed path,

Else before the fall of night,

You’ll be dragged deep within the earth,

By the Buried of the Blight.

I stilled for a moment after reading those final words, then carefully folded the parchment and put it back into the bag.

I laughed with a combination of giddy anticipation and incredulity.

Oh, come on. The Buried? Really? Another potential world-ending threat? I haven’t even beaten the first world-ending threat yet! There have to be rules about having two of them at once!

It’s probably just another simulation. More summoned monsters disguised as Buried as a part of a hypothetical scenario. But if they are real…

I felt my free hand settling on the hilt of the Sae’kes.

…The Buried, huh? It’s been a while.

Every story I’d ever heard involving a group of the Buried getting free from their tomb beneath the world — a tomb which, by the way, required the efforts of several gods working in tandem to create — ended in disaster. Plagues, famines, terrible loss of life. They weren’t just ordinary beasts: they were terrifying forces of nature made by the Worldmaker of Monsters as his personal army for his war against the other makers.

Demigods. Abominations. Unstoppable.

A smile cracked my lips.

This could be a fun round after all.

I got moving. The ground nearby was solid enough to walk on, at least for the moment. As I walked, I slipped the map fragment back out of my bag and began to look for landmarks that looked similar to the symbols on it.

As I suspected, I found some immediately: the map fragment in my possession seemed to cover the immediate area near where I’d started.

There were several types of symbols on the map, but no key.

I took a closer look, trying to get my bearings. There was a symbol near the bottom corner that looked reminiscent of my token, a few scattered treasure chests, some skulls, and something that looked like a building near one of the other corners.

The token symbol is probably the location of the closest beacon. I’ll bet one or more tokens is necessary to activate it…maybe each only works for a set time?

If they’re devious — and they’re definitively devious — the people running the challenge probably dropped us off in areas that aren’t anywhere near the beacon we have the right token for. We’re probably supposed to hunt down the other contestants for the right tokens for each beacon, then get them lit.

Maybe that’ll end the scenario and we just have to survive to that point, or maybe we have to keep lighting them for a set period. Maybe in time, maybe based on how long it takes for the other competitors to be eliminated.

…Of course, there’s also the boxes. Those might be standard treasure, or they could be more tokens.

The building near the corner is…ah, it’s not a corner. It’s actually the center of the map, it’s just that I’ve only got a quarter. So, that’s the Temple of Extreme Danger that we’re supposed to seal off and the beacons are probably at the four far corners. Got it.

There’s gonna be time pressure on this, given the warnings in the scenario itself and the need to give us a feeling of risk. They’re probably going to have Buried climbing out of the center of the temple faster and faster as the challenge progresses, and we’re supposed to race around and get the beacons lit before we’re totally overwhelmed. Pretty standard “accomplish goal before being overwhelmed by infinite enemies” scenario.

As a child in a different lifetime, I’d done training exercises for similar scenarios. Xixian troops flooding an area through portals was the most common: even though the Xixian empire had been crushed before my birth, they were still broadly feared and most military doctrine had been written around fighting them.

There were a few variants on that scenario as well — other invading nations, elementals from other planes, that sort of thing.

In spite of the slight modifications for different opponents, the core strategies were usually the same — alert superiors, consolidate forces, crush enemies and cut off their ability to continue to bring more troops to bear. Destabilize portals, cut off supply lines, that sort of thing. There were more details about specific troop levels and compositions necessary to attack specific types of enemies, entrenchment, and all that, but they weren’t really relevant. I didn’t have an army.

I was the army.

A grin slid across my face as that particular idea ran through my mind, but I pushed that momentary levity aside to focus.

I hadn’t had many practice scenarios regarding the Buried. Any true breach with Buried rushing to the surface would have required intervention at a level that ordinary soldiers didn’t need to bother training for it — they’d just end up as a pile of bodies. This wasn’t because the Buried were individually so powerful that they could have slaughtered regiments, although some Buried certainly were — it was because of how rapidly the Buried spread once a breach occurred.

I remembered one isolated incident of a supposed Buried getting free from my youth and…well, the aftermath of that attack was the kind of memory that left scars. And not the fun kind of scars that Reika took a couple extra moments to examine each time she saw me shirtless.

Long story short, what you were supposed to do when confronted with the Buried was to run and pray hard to anything that might be listening.

I did one of the two. When I ran, however, I wasn’t following doctrine. I ran straight toward the area likely to have the highest concentration of Buried I could find.

The temple was ostensibly where the Buried were coming from. Somewhere in the lower depths there would be a breach in the ground with hordes of Buried emerging from it. This would also be the location where their leadership resided if their leaders had chosen to take to the surface — they’d be using it as a staging point. The temple itself, depending on its state, could serve as a fortification. If they took it over, they’d set up defenses. Traps, extra walls, choke points, all that.

Attacking a fortified area on your own without preparation is exactly what you’re never supposed to do. Suffice to say, it got me a little giddy just thinking about it.

I raced onward, running at first then jumping to upraised sections of stone that jutted out from the swamp floor. Broken pillars, I realized. Or someone just wanted a jumping puzzle in a swamp. Given Kaldwyn’s standards, they’re about equally likely.

I shifted in mid-jump as a gigantic insect shot down at me. I punched it out of the sky, then landed and jumped again. A hurled blast of fire scattered a swarm of more incoming insects.

As I landed on the next larger section of solid ground and a vine twitched toward me, I flicked two fingers in its direction. It fell to pieces.

Huh.

That hadn’t been deliberate. Or, at least, not a conscious effort.

I kept running, assessing further threats and handling them as they came.

Quickdrop mud. Jump.

Insect swarm. Disperse with fire.

Glowing blue arrow. Catch, hurl back at originator.

I heard a yelp as I threw an arrow off into the woods somewhere. I kept running.

Best I could guess, we had all the remaining combatants in this round. There were somewhere between sixteen and thirty-two of us in total. I knew precisely one archer that I actually considered a threat — Shun — and he wasn’t going to be firing blue glowing arrows at me. Green was more his color, and if I’d caught one of his shots, it probably would have exploded into crystal or something.

This one did burst in the distance, but into ice, rather than crystal or stone.

Not Shun. Not worth my time.

A few more jumps across precarious pillars, then I was back on the ground. My boots sank as I landed, but I was moving too fast for the ground to consume me. No further arrows came in my direction. A bush tried to eat me. I exploded it and kept running, sensing metal. A quick hop took me over a bear trap, then I blasted a set of caltrops from the air before I landed in their midst. I scanned the nearby forest, saw no one, and kept running in the temple’s direction.

Need to hurry.

If I took too long, someone was going to light one of those beacons. I didn’t know exactly how they worked, but if the intent was to seal off the temple to prevent the Buried from escaping, it was plausible the barrier would be two-way. If it was, I wouldn’t be able to get inside and see all the horrors the Buried had to offer.

Well, not without punching out the barrier, anyway. That idea was thrilling, but the distant, rational part in the back of my mind told me that it would probably lose me points, maybe even get me disqualified. As much as I wanted to punch out some Buried (real or otherwise), breaking the barrier that served as the stated objective for this round seemed like a bad idea.

…A bad idea that I considered doing anyway, but a bad idea nonetheless.

As I continued to run, I extended my senses. My metal sense caught more traps, including a couple nasty spears designed to shoot up from the ground. They were covered with some kind of goop that was almost certainly poison.

My magic sense — a borrowed shadow of Dawn’s own sense for the mana in the air — was less useful, since the ambient mana in the area was so thick that I couldn’t tell much of anything apart. My range wasn’t great, either. I kept it at the back of my mind, just in case someone tried to sneak invisibly on me. This was exactly the right sort of environment for stealth attacks. Pillars to duck behind, darkness from the tree canopy, man-eating bushes, traps laid everywhere by both the tournament organizers and other contestants. Feather Light helped me see, but the bright light that surrounded me also made me a gigantic target, and I didn’t think it would be strong enough to dispel shadow-concealed attackers.

More keenly, I felt one final sense — the presence of sacred swords in the area.

One above the tree canopy, off in the distance and moving fast in my direction.

Reika. Flying. Potential threat.

A second moved from one part of the area to another in an instant. That’d be Ishyeal, then. Another threat, but he wasn’t approaching me.

A third, fainter. Either Ravenshade with some kind of concealment spell to prevent me from detecting Twilight’s Edge properly (likely) or Hannah with whatever partial fragment of Diamantine she was carrying.

A fourth, also faint, but…off-somehow. It wasn’t quite the same feeling as a sacred sword, and the moment I concentrated on it to try to get a line to the direction, it vanished. I frowned. That could have been Ravenshade catching me and blocking my detection ability, but…that didn’t feel quite right. I’d felt a little sick the brief moment that I’d sensed it.

Is there another wielder here?

With Flowbreaker supposedly broken and Raizo presumably not in the tournament, who or what else could I be detecting?

I kept running, intrigued. I might have changed directions to search for that strange feeling, but as it turned out, whatever it was happened to be heading straight in the same direction I had been, just from the other side.

My heart beat faster in anticipation, and faster still when a thing jumped out of a patch of thick bushes to my side.

It was a monstrous creature that could be charitably described as panther-like, but the size of a horse. It was black-furred in the few locations where fur showed beneath its grey, chitinous plates. It had claws on four legs, hooves on the four others. That seemed a little awkward to me, but from the speed at which it was running — and now leaping — toward me, apparently the uncanny mixture was pretty effective.

Rashan, I processed. Weak against gold.

I stomped the ground. A wall of stone shot up from the murky ground, slamming into the monstrous beast from below. I’d expected the wall to smash it out of position, but the rising stone barely budged it, then the rashan latched onto the wall by gouging holes in the stone with its claws and jumped straight from the wall toward me.

Composition shift. A hint of concentration changed the metallic properties of Feather Light the instant before I hurled the gleaming stiletto in the rashan’s direction.

The hurled dagger went straight through it. Not in a “hurled it so hard that I cut straight through it sense”, but rather a “like it wasn’t there” sense.

I spun just in time to brace myself before the real rashan slammed into me, closing the short range of my mana perception in a split-second.

Body of Stone.

I defended myself just before the creature’s hooves impacted my chest. It staggered me a step, but with my spell in place, that was all it managed.

I sensed, rather than saw, it jump back immediately. The true rashan was invisible, presumably with the same type of sight sorcery that had conjured the illusion that I’d hurled my dagger at.

My hand shot out toward the fallen stiletto. Imbued with the properties of gold, it would still be an effective weapon if I could land a hit.

Magnetic pull.

The weapon flew toward my hand — and the rashan leapt toward it, grabbing the stiletto out of the air with its jaws by the hilt. Sadly, the hilt of the weapon hadn’t been shifted to gold, and it wasn’t touching the blade.

Fortunately, Feather Light didn’t turn invisible.

I drew the Sae’kes in an instant, a shockwave of destructive force flickering across the swamp.

A moment later, the rashan fell into two separate pieces.

Feather Light, still magnetized, slipped free from the rashan’s jaws and flew back toward my hand. I re-sheathed the Sae’kes, caught Feather Light, and walked to inspect the body.

The rashan hadn’t vanished after it died. Foul black ichor poured out of the wound where it had been bisected rather than blood. I raised an arm to cover my nose to keep myself from gagging.

I stared at the creature for a moment, searching for a crystal around its neck to indicate a summoning power source. I found none.

And, after several seconds, the rashan didn’t vanish.

Processing the implications of that, my heart skipped a beat, and I turned to run toward the temple.

It could be a trick. An extended illusion, or a different type of summoning spell.

But…if it’s not…

These…might be actual Buried. They might be setting loose real monsters for this round. Real, potentially world-threatening monsters.

My fists tightened, and I felt myself trembling with a combination of anger and an uncomfortable degree of excitement.

I rushed toward the temple, releasing Body of Stone to quicken my pace. If there were actual Buried there, I would need to eradicate them as quickly and completely as possible, then ensure the breach was properly sealed.

It wasn’t long before my goal came into view — a titanic structure that must have once served as a testament to the power and ingenuity of an ancient city. It looked to be half-fortress and half-temple, with weathered walls half-again my height and a series of strange posts around said walls that gleamed with inner light. Half-lit white gemstones were embedded in those posts, as well as the walls. With my magic sense active, I could see lines leading between them, as well as off into the distance.

Their power was faint. Inactive, as far as I could tell. Presumably, these posts would activate whenever someone powered the distant beacons. Maybe one beacon was all it would take, but they’d be weak. Maybe they wouldn’t activate at all until all four beacons were in place.

It didn’t matter to me. Others were probably scrambling about searching for the necessary tokens to get the beacons active to keep the monsters from escaping, but that was the furthest thing from my agenda.

I could break the posts now and stop the beacons from working, couldn’t I? That’d make it easier to get back out when I’m done cleaning up here and throw off the other contestants.

With some effort, I pushed the temptation away. As much as I loved destroying things to solve my problems, if these were real Buried and not just summoned monsters, I needed to keep the defenses of the temple in place. The defenses here were a necessity, and I couldn’t replace them if I destroyed them.

(And, of course, breaking the defenses of the temple seemed like a good way to get disqualified.)

I rushed past the posts and through a colossal hole in the wall that looked to have been torn open with claws the size of tree-trunks. Beyond the wall, I got a better view of the temple proper.

The building had been white marble once, several stories in height. It was wide, too, the main building stretching beyond sight in each direction.

Several doors, but I’m not on the main side.

I kept running, ignoring the stillness and deathly silence in the air as I circled the building and continued to examine it.

There were four towers on the sides of the building in various states of disarray. Once, there had also been a taller central tower, but it looked to have completely collapsed. That left it open as a point of egress for flyers, meaning that both flying Buried could potentially use it to leave and someone like Reika could use it as an entrance point.

There were a few outlying buildings, mostly half-rubble, but a couple intact. I ignored them. It was most likely that the origin point of the Buried would be near the center of the main temple structure, and very likely underground.

I kept circling. Eventually, I reached the main gates — or, rather, the spot where main gates must have been before being torn away with tremendous force. A glance showed me the location of the ruined gates — only a dozen or so yards away from the doorframe, as if they had been casually tossed by something with great strength. A quick inspection told me that the doors themselves were in better shape than most of the structure, being made of solid valden — a type of magic-resistant metal.

Given the damage to the doorframe and the state of the gate, the doors had been ripped off from the inside, and relatively recently.

I scanned around, disappointed to find that whatever gigantic monster had managed the feat wasn’t still in sight. The ground around the temple was solid stone, not mud, but that didn’t make it harder to find the tracks. The ground had been splintered wherever this thing stepped, leaving paw-prints that were two or three times the size of my chest.

Dragon-sized, maybe, or something like it.

I almost ran straight after the tracks. Fighting something that huge sounded fun. But as tough as a monster like that was likely to be, it was just the frontrunner for the Buried — I couldn’t let myself get distracted.

The real fun was going to be inside.

I stepped inside the temple doors, the Pale Crescent at the ready.

It was time for a good old-fashioned dungeon crawl.

***

I stepped into the temple, ignoring the elaborate carvings on the walls and the pattern on the floor to focus on the two standing suits of armor that were standing directly next to the door on the opposite side. There were two other doors on the left and right side, but I ignored them as well.

Threats.

I tossed Feather Light into my left hand, drawing the Pale Crescent and advancing on the two suits of armor. I noted that the door in front of the armor was covered in a visible, solid blue barrier. I ignored it.

The moment one of the suits of armor twitched, I cut it in half. The Pale Crescent cut cleanly through the steel, enhanced by both the Sharpshift Scabbard and an unconscious effort of my will.

The second suit of armor spun toward me, but far too slowly. The Pale Crescent flashed again. This time, the sword lacked scabbard-enhanced sharpness, but I shifted my own aura to surround the blade.

The second suit fell, split vertically in half.

I heard the “click” of an arrow trap, stepped backward to avoid the hail of arrows from the holes in the walls, then seamlessly stepped back into the area in front of the barrier-blocked door.

There were two keyholes on the side of the door: one blue, one red. Presumably, the keys would be in the side rooms, which I now noted had blue and red carvings of triangular symbols above them.

No need.

With a flick of my wrist, I slashed clean through the barrier. It shattered with an audible crack.

I kicked the door to the next room open, blasting it straight off the hinges.

Next.

I stepped into the next room, finding a longer rectangular chamber with four visible pressure plates in the room’s corners. There were also three huge stone blocks, obviously sized similarly to the pressure plates.

There were two doors this time: one on the left that had no visible lock, and one straight ahead with a golden lock on it. No visible barrier.

When I stepped forward into the room, I heard a ‘click’ as gas began to pour in through the holes in the floor. A mechanism triggered on the door behind me — or tried to, anyway. I chuckled as I realized it was probably trying to seal the door shut, locking me in a room filled with poison gas.

I lifted Feather Light to just beneath my face. “Feather Light: Torrent.” The aura of wind around the weapon intensified. It blew my hair around a bit, and more importantly, kept the gas away from my face. I couldn’t ensure it was perfectly reliable, and I was burning through the weapon’s limited mana, but it helped for the short-term.

Not that I was going to give the gas much time. I stepped across the room, ignoring the obvious block puzzle and heading straight for the opposite door.

I kicked the door, but that just busted a hole through it rather than knocking it off the hinges like I’d intended. With a frown followed by a shrug, I moved the Pale Crescent in a quick motion to outline the frame, cutting the door right off.

The door fell forward. I ignored the still-spewing gas traps and stepped into the next chamber, immediately dodging a flying sword that shot past me, whirled, and turned back around.

Flying swords, eh?

I tossed Feather Light into the air briefly, then caught the flying sword by the blade when it lunged at me again. After a moment of examining the sword, I hurled it straight into the stone floor, where it lodged in place.

I caught Feather Light by the hilt, then quickly parried the next dozen flying swords that arced at me from across the room, sending bits of metal flying with each contact.

I stepped more fully into the room, noting even more floating swords hovering from their places in gigantic weapon racks along each of the room’s walls. This was the largest chamber by far, most likely the central part of the compound. There were a total of six doors; the one I’d entered, one on the opposite side, and four on various walls. The opposite door was the most conspicuous, with four different slots on the walls next to it for some kind of gemstones.

I shot forward to the center, grinning as more swords flew at me by the dozen.

Spinning is rarely advisable in a fight, but it is really fun. And it’s a real audience pleaser.

As I swung around, my hands moving in a blur of motion and smashing animated weapons out of the air, I paused to give a wink to one audience member in particular.

Hannah Meiyer leaned up against the wall near the opposite door, watching me with an expression of amusement.

A few moments later, I stood amidst a pile of metal scrap. It was a shame I had to destroy so many of the animated weapons, but they were threats, so they had to be eliminated. Most of them, at least.

I briefly shoved the Pale Crescent into the floor, then retrieved the one animated sword I’d spared. It twitched toward me, but I kept it immobile with sheer strength.

Then I shoved the animated sword into the Sharpshift Scabbard, grabbed some metal from the floor, and reshaped the metal to seal the animated sword into the scabbard. It twitched in place, trying to free itself. I ignored it.

I’d examine my new toy later. For the moment, I lifted the Pale Crescent and walked over to Hannah. She was the largest threat, of course, but not taking any obviously hostile movements.

I could still sense something similar to a sacred sword from her, but I couldn’t detect what it was. She was dressed in her full royal guard armor, but with a couple new items — a Survival Sigil and a strange belt.

She made a mock clapping gesture. “A little flashy, but not bad. You’ve gotten faster.”

“You must have as well. You beat me here. Were these yours?”

Hannah shook her head. “No. I picked a major advantage. I started near here and the defenses don’t target me.”

“Understood. I’m heading through to fight the Buried.” I took a couple steps in her direction. The massive door she was guarding was obviously the most likely route toward the part of the complex where the wards would be located.

She raised an eyebrow. “You know that’s not the goal for this round, right? You get some points for killing Buried, but the goal is just to survive. You’re supposed to contain them.”

It was good to have confirmation that killing Buried would give any points at all, as well as the overall goal, but I wasn’t really focused on any of that. “You say that, and yet you’re here, not out with the beacons.”

“Well, I was going to help out with the defenses inside. Maintain and improve the traps. Kill anything that slipped through. Figured it’d be more point-efficient than tangling with the beacons. Of course, there’s a problem with that now.” She glanced down at the pile of broken metal.

I shrugged. “They came at me. Are we going to have a problem?”

“No, no. It’s fine, would have done the same in your place. You seem…off, though. You okay?”

“I am uninjured.”

“That’s not what I…” She frowned. “Never mind. You’re probably just…unusually focused.”

I nodded. “For good reason. The Buried are a major problem. I’m going through. You may come with me if you agree to cooperate.”

“I think I’m going to pass. I’m going to stick with my plan and get these defenses repaired.”

“You are an Executioner, how would you — never mind. Doesn’t matter. I’ll leave you to it. I believe the door behind you will lead to the Buried. Will you stand aside?”

“Hey, now. Don’t go wrecking another completely good door, especially one with built-in wards. I got the keystones already. Hold on, I’ll open it for you.”

I watched her cautiously as she pulled four differently-colored crystals out of her bag and inserted them into the slots on the sides of the door. The barrier on the door vanished with a sizzling sound, then the door itself slid open.

“Go ahead. Don’t be alarmed when I lock the door behind you: I do need to keep the Buried in there. Knock six times if you need to get out.”

Dangerous. Can’t be trusted.

I pushed those thoughts aside. It was irrelevant. If she betrayed me, the door could simply be destroyed. Or the walls around them, which were not warded in the same fashion.

Foolish. Inefficient defense.

I nodded to Hannah. “Thank you.”

“One last thing — you’re not going to be the only one down there. Some others started near me and decided to go down. Be careful.”

“I’ll watch for them.” I stepped through the door, noting that she stepped just out of sword reach as I passed.

Wise decision.

I wasn’t planning to attack her, but she had good instincts.

The next room was another large one, housing a spiral stairway toward the back. The stairs led upward toward the ruins of the broken tower that I’d seen earlier, as well as downward into the earth. The half-destroyed tower was open to the sky without any obvious rubble barring entry — someone must have cleared the debris away, but without fixing the structural damage.

Distantly, I could still sense a sacred sword heading rapidly toward this location.

Reika and Dawn, I processed. I could wait for them here. If the barrier isn’t up yet, Reika will be able to descend straight into this chamber. We could make our way through this place together.

I ignored that line of thought and kept moving, heading straight to the stairway as the door slid shut behind me.

I don’t need their help, and I can’t risk any more Buried escaping.

There were two already-opened treasure boxes along the walls, but beyond that, nothing else of interest in the room. I reached the stairs without complication and headed downward.

As I moved down the stairwell, holding Feather Light in my off hand and the Pale Crescent in my main hand, I felt something deeper down below.

That same sense I’d noted when I’d first checked for sacred swords in the area — there was something down there that didn’t quite feel like one of the swords, but it was similar enough that it left an itch at the back of my mind.

Another wielder, perhaps. They can help with the Buried. And if they want a fight…

My heart beat faster in anticipation of that kind of fight. My steps quickened. The passage darkened as I descended, with Feather Light struggling to push away the suffocating feeling of pressure in the air.

By the time I reached the next floor, I was feeling slightly lightheaded. I called a hint of light mana into my body, which helped the sensation, then scanned the area.

The room was a wide rectangle of grey stone. There were no light sources on the walls, but with Feather Light’s now-anemic glow, I was able to discern the presence of four rough stone doorways — one on each side. I groaned as I processed the presence of color-coded markings on each.

More puzzles. I have no time for this.

The stairway itself continued further down, but it was blocked by a large stone circle etched with protective runes. Like the gateway I’d passed through above, it had holes for four gems — or “keystones”, as Hannah had called them.

I was half-way through raising the Pale Crescent when I barely managed to stop myself, recalling that I was trying to keep the Buried sealed, not just find my way down to fight them as rapidly as possible.

With surprising difficulty, I forced my hand back down. I groaned, knelt down, and tried to shape the stone around the platform to move it without the keystones. There was a crack in the air and I felt a jolt of pain as an electric shock ran through my hand.

Better. At least they have some kind of security.

I pulled my hand away, shook it out as the pain cleared, and picked my swords back up. I considered carving the space around the door and then repairing it with stone sorcery later, but that risked both disrupting the enchantments and lowering my personal essence supply for the fights that were to come.

Doors it is. I’ll make this quick.

I headed through the north door first, finding a small chamber with shelves full of dark bottles.

Potions? I took a step closer, not seeing any threats present, and lifted one of the bottles off the closest shelf. The label was in the Edrian tongue, but from the style of the layout, the number that indicated a date, and the cork…

…This is just a wine cellar.

Of course someone decided to put a wine cellar next to the world ending abomination pit. Why am I even surprised by this?

I shook my head, sweeping through the room until I found a single blue gemstone tucked into a corner. Muddy smears on the ground led to that specific spot, then back to the previous chamber.

Boot marks. Someone else has been here recently. Presumably, they opened the door, then put the gem back. That explains the lack of challenges, at least. They must have already cleared the monsters and traps out.

I picked up the gem, tossed it in my bag, and headed to the room on the west side.

As soon as I swung the door open, a spear launched at me from the opposite side. A flick of my wrist sent the spear clattering to the floor…for a moment, then it began to rise and orient toward me again.

Behind the spear, dozens of other weapons lifted off racks. There were a far broader variety than the sword racks above — I saw floating hammers, maces, daggers, even a kama or two.

Should have figured out how Hannah was marked as ‘safe’ from these. If she was given some kind of item, maybe I could have copied it…ah, well.

Resigned, I stepped inside the whirlwind of steel.

Don’t have time for this. Magnetic repulse.

The majority of weapons had enough metal components that they simply bounced right off my magnetic aura. The rest, things like staves and a single all-stone mace, I simply side-stepped while I marched through the room and picked up the red gem from a table in the center.

I felt the floating sword in my sheath twitch as I moved, trying to free itself. “Ease up, Floaty Sword. We both want to stab something, but be patient.”

I slammed the door behind me on the way out. The weapons inside seemed to settle after that — I didn’t hear any of them slamming into the door to try to follow me.

The next room had animated suits of armor. My magnetic repulse handled those even more easily, although I did pause to cut a couple open and search them for golem cores. I didn’t find any, which was a bit of an oddity — their enchantments must have worked differently than standard golems, then.

I didn’t have the patience to study them.

I grabbed a yellow gem from the armor room and slammed it shut, then released my magnetic repulse spell. There was no sense in wasting more of my essence than necessary.

The last room was the simplest. A bedroom with a single bed, a table, a chair, that sort of thing.

Oh, and a body. Can’t forget the body.

The man was wearing long robes that might have been white if not for the frankly impressive amount of blood splattered all over them. Someone had killed this guy thoroughly.

He hasn’t vanished. Either he’s real, or he’s a part of this scenario that’s meant to be solved.

I flipped him over and immediately groaned and pulled back.

His eyes were missing.

Illkain.

I felt my hands tightening as I processed the implications. Illkain were some of the most horrifying of the Buried — they were shapeshifters that could steal someone’s form, as well as an approximation of their memories and skills, by stealing their eyes.

I hoped that the body was just a construct that had been placed here as a clue for contestants that wanted to go try to solve where the illkain had snuck off to. I imagined that as being some kind of bonus challenge, lateral to the normal “turn on the barriers” concept for the test.

The alternative was far worse. There was a part of me that wanted to go searching for the illkain immediately, just in case it was real. The consequences of an illkain getting loose were awful. They weren’t just shapeshifters and assassins. They could reproduce without any other Buried being necessary.

The less said about that, the better.

Even one getting loose was a long-term threat to society as a whole…

But finding a missing monster anywhere in the area wasn’t my skill set. Even as I moved through the room and found the last gem, I could feel movement in the deep caverns below the temple.

More Buried were coming.

And fighting hordes of monsters? That was something I could do.

I gave one last look toward the corpse, debating burning his body, but decided against it.

Sorry. Hope someone else can avenge you properly.

I headed to the center of the chamber, inserting the gems and watching as the central platform slid out of the way to reveal the stairway.

Time to go.

I headed deeper into the earth.

The stairway ended in a rougher cavern. It looked natural, with stalactites jutting downward from the high ceiling. The single pathway forward was rough, with strange gouges in the stone that no simple tool or spell would leave.

Claws.

I pushed onward. Feather Light’s scarce illumination faded further as I pressed onward, following the tunnel as it slanted further downward. As I pushed on, I felt it vibrating in the walls — a cacophony of movement, rushing in my direction.

The Pale Crescent shifted in my right hand, taking on its second form just as the first of the onrushing tide came into view.

The corridor was a wide one. Good for movement if I was dueling a single opponent. Bad for isolating individual enemies when what you were up against resembled nothing more than a tidal wave of rampaging beasts.

I planted myself in the middle of that tunnel, bracing myself and identifying individual Buried types.

Gen, bloated frogs with venomous flesh and auras of poison. Even getting near one would be dangerous for the average swordsman.

Evoth, serpents of stone, with rock-like plates and the ability to exhale toxic gas.

Rashan, cat-like beasts like the one I’d fought in the swamp above.

Koshari, bats with wings of ice and shadow.

No humanoids, I noted. Just the more overtly bestial varieties. Still… “If any of you can understand me, stop now. If you fight, you will not leave this place alive.” I didn’t know if any of them understood me. Not one of the creatures even paused.

A distant part of my mind felt a pang of sorrow that I had failed, but in that moment, my heart could only pound with excitement.

The wave hit me mere moments after I spoke the last word.

Or, more accurately, I hit the wave.

I slammed my boot into the ground, raising a wall of stone, then…

Body of Iron.

Burden Band: Impact.

I slammed The Pale Crescent into the newly-formed wall. With the Burden Band reinforcing the already absurd force behind my swing, the wall of stone detonated into a rain of deadly fragments of rock that crashed into the onrushing tide.

I heard roars of agony and rage, but I didn’t stop. I released Body of Iron to conserve my strength, then rushed straight into the monster crowd.

A rashan leapt at me from the right, landing on my left side in two pieces.

An evoth opened his mouth to exhale gas. I hurled a fireball into its open maw, causing a detonation that obliterated a half-dozen monsters nearby.

A stomp formed a wall of stone to block an onrushing tide of gen, then a swift cut sent a blade of force through the wall, tearing through the poisonous monsters before their aura could reach me.

A larger evoth inhaled from a distance, beyond easy range of my flames. I slashed the air, forming another crescent and leaping on top of it, then repeating the process and running through the air.

As the evoth finally exhaled, I hurled Feather Light, creating a funnel of wind through the blast of gas. Then I leapt straight through that open path, swinging once.

The evoth fell in pieces behind me.

When I landed, I was surrounded by Buried.

Dozens, maybe hundreds of them.

Magnetic pull.

Feather Light flew back to my hand. I raised it, pushing away the gas that still hung in this part of the tunnel before I breathed too much of it, and spun in a circle, forming a single circular blade in the air.

“High Tide.”

High Tide was designed to focus on a single target. There was no obvious lead monster to focus on here, but there was someone who served as a perfect target.

Me.

Blades of force flashed in the air, shooting straight toward me, tearing through the crowd of monsters. As more approached, I swept the Pale Crescent out, forming more blades in the air.

Blades crashed into me at my own command, but without causing harm. Fully repaired and linked to the rest of the set, my amulet rendered me immune to the crescents.

And so, I stood among the blades, unharmed and undaunted.

I don’t know long I stood there, at the center of that maelstrom of blades. It may have been minutes, or it may have been hours.

In the end, as I leaned the Pale Crescent against my shoulder, the world around me was still. Silent. There was no blood on the sword in my hand. Not one of the Buried had gotten close enough to stain it.

Was that all?

I stepped through a sea of bodies and advanced further down the tunnel with a smile on my face.

I didn’t notice just how wide the cracks on my scabbard had grown.

CHAPTER XVIII – THE DUNGEON’S MASTER

I rushed deeper down the tunnel, noting the broken remains of rune-etched stones that must have served as wards to keep the Buried at bay. There were dozens of them, interspersed every hundred meters or so.

Unlike the claw-carved tunnels, these stones hadn’t been crushed by one of the stronger Buried. Each and every ward stone had been slashed apart with a single cut from a sharp blade.

Well, well. It seems I’m not the only one playing against the intent of the scenario. It’s possible that these were set up like this before this round of the tournament started, but it’s far more likely that someone decided to free the Buried.

It made a strange sort of sense as a strategy, if one didn’t expect to lose too many points from destroying the wards. If someone thought they could personally avoid the Buried — or fight them on their own terms — freeing the Buried more rapidly would create a grave threat for every other combatant and disrupt the flow of the challenge for everyone else.

There was still a sense burning in the back of my mind of something familiar in this area, ever deeper within the earth. Someone — or something — had something that felt like a sacred sword down here. It wasn’t Hannah, since I’d already seen her, which left precious few options.

I was looking forward to seeing who I was up against. Someone with the audacity to free the Buried deliberately would make for a potentially fascinating opponent.

I raced on. A handful of Buried burst from the side walls of the chamber to attempt to stop my progression, but fell to pieces with only the slightest movement of my sword.

Too easy. More. Need more.

My rush finally ended in a wide-open chamber with something fascinating at the center — a tremendous red crystal that was embedded into a natural pillar of stone. The crystal wasn’t a beautiful and symmetrical prism like the ones I’d seen elsewhere in Kaldwyn; it looked more like a natural rock formation, with jagged edges protruding in several different directions.

Perhaps more importantly, it thrummed with energy, pulsing every few moments with what felt uncomfortably similar to a heartbeat. With each pulse, the cavern shook, and something began to form out of half-corporeal mist in the air near it.

Buried, I realized. It’s making more Buried.

I stepped toward this strange cavern’s heart, but I froze half-way across the chamber.

I’m not alone.

He stood in the shadows, his entire body wreathed in an aura of dark. Whatever magic he’d woven effectively hid him from all of my ordinary senses. Even when I turned to look straight at him, I could only discern his presence with great effort and a flare of spirit mana directed to my eyes.

Fortunately, my sense for the location of sacred swords was only dimmed by that dark, not completely stopped — otherwise I might have missed him entirely.

I lifted my sword and rested it against my shoulder, my eyes narrowing. “You’ve caused quite a bit of trouble. You just going to watch?”

Satoshi Muramasa stepped closer, the strange red glow of the chamber’s central crystal casting him in bloodstained light.

Muramasa looked much the same as when I’d seen him in the memory crystal. He wore the same pristine white robes embroidered with steel thread, although now, they were accented by plated bracers on his wrists.

Bladebreaker Bracers, just like my own. He’ll have the other prizes for eliminations and survival in the Battle Royale, too.

A quick glance only showed one other visible item of significance — a necklace with a peculiar symbol signifying a sword with several spike-like protrusions. It wasn’t immediately familiar to me, although perhaps it should have been.

Religious, maybe, or magical.

His steel hair was pulled back into an immaculate tail with two stylized bangs hanging in front of his face. His body was thin, even by my own skinnier-than-average standards, but wiry rather than emaciated.

His cursed sword remained affixed to his back, the handle and scabbard covered entirely in those strange paper tags — ofuda — designed to keep the weapon’s power sealed. He made no movement to draw the weapon. “You should not have come here.”

I gave him a shrug. “I’ve never been good at playing by the rules. It seems you’re not much different.”

Something flashed in Muramasa’s eyes. “We are more alike than you know.”

“Show me.” I flipped Feather Light into the air, mentally commanding it to float and spin in place, creating a stationary light source for the room as I advanced toward Muramasa. That freed up both hands to hold the hilt of the Pale Crescent. While I could have continued to wield both weapons at once, the Pale Crescent was large enough that single-handing it was unwieldy and not ideal against another swordsman with any level of skill.

“I should not.” His expression was conflicted. “Father does not wish for me to fight you. Not here, not now. Not like this.”

“But you want to, don’t you?” I could see it in his body language. The way his eyes burned as he watched me approach, the way his left hand tightened around his scabbard and his right tensed as it hovered in the air. He wasn’t just prepared to defend himself. He itched to draw. To test his skill against mine.

There was something beyond that, too. Anticipation that tugged at the lines of his lips, seeking the smile that I wore so easily. He burned to move, but he restrained himself with the rigid frost of his father’s will.

A part of me wondered who this “father” was, but a larger part didn’t care. I was too deeply immersed in the moment, readiness to test my edge against one that was as-yet unknown.

“Come on. Draw. I could just swing at you if you don’t.”

“You will not.” His head moved from side-to-side. “It is not your way.”

I snorted. “Been watching me, have you?”

“Closely.” Muramasa acknowledged. “Though not as closely as my sister, perhaps. She, too, would disapprove of a conflict between us here — though for very different reasons.”

“You just going to keep dropping vague references to family here, or you going to give me some idea of what you’re talking about, Muramasa?”

He flinched. “Do not call me by that name. I am not worthy of it.”

I blinked. That wasn’t a reply I’d expected. “Fine. Satoshi, then? Look, your name doesn’t matter to me. I need to know if you’re going to entertain me, or if I need to find something better to do.” I turned my head toward the pulsing crystal. “Breaking that looks like it could be fun.”

His hand tightened around his scabbard further. “Do not.”

“Why?” I turned my head back to him, stepping ever closer. I still wasn’t in reach for a swing, but I was getting there. “You relying on the Buried it’s making to handle the competition?”

“No. The cavern heart is more than just a spawning device for Buried. The heart is alive.”

That gave me pause. My hand lowered just slightly. “Oh. It’s not just a part of this round?”

“No.” He shook his head. “They merely assist.”

“…And the Buried?”

He shook his head. “Temporary conjurations, but far more sophisticated than the ones mere humans can manage. Creating such wonderful things for a mere test…it is disgraceful.”

Something clicked in my mind when I heard his tone…the mixture of disgust and…reverence? “Ah. You’re awfully interested in this heart, aren’t you? That’s why you’re really here. You’re protecting them. Sending those Buried to the surface was just…what, a bonus? A method of repelling invaders more effectively?”

“Both.” Satoshi acknowledged. “The organizers of this test overstep themselves with this challenge. We will have words when this ends.”

“Scary.” I smiled at him. “I’d like to see that.”

“You will not. Now that you understand, leave here. Before…”

“Before?” I raised an eyebrow.

“Before…” He froze, something strange passing over his face. “Ah. It is too late. Circumstances have changed.”

I took another step closer. “Shall we get this started, then?”

His expression shifted from reticent to resigned. “You misunderstand. I still will not be fighting you. They will.”

I spun just in time to catch a burning arrow. It tried to detonate in my hand, but I reshaped the flame as I crushed the wood, causing tendrils of fire and smoke to slip free from my fingers.

Four people were standing behind me. I recognized all of them in an instant: I’d seen them as a group before, after all. They represented most of the Dalenos Six.

I quickly processed the threats they represented.

A tall man in the back was already pulling another arrow out of a quiver at his hip. The archer. Arrows are all enchanted. Flame mana, several other types.

He was standing next to a shorter man with a thin beard and a belt with a half-dozen pouches on it. The lightning-wielder that kept throwing powder. Don’t know exactly what attunement he has. Lightning is a problem. He’s a solid fifty feet away. Ample room for ranged attacks.

In front of them were two front-line fighters. The first was the yari-wielder I’d fought before. He’d acquired an unfamiliar mask that covered the left half of his face and he was wearing some kind of armor from what looked like wooden plates. Wood means I can’t reshape it. Inconvenient. That yari also lets him create some kind of copies of himself. Still not sure how real they are.

And at the front of the group was Takeshi Kurita. He was wearing a helmet I remembered seeing in the arena armory — the Shredding Symbol — and still had the two enchanted swords on his side. Two attunements, some kind of teleportation-style technique. He’d be a danger even by himself.

Notably, I’d neither seen them nor heard them a moment before. Either they’d been hidden from my senses or they’d just teleported into the area. I was betting on the former. I’d sensed someone following me, but…

A frown crossed my face. I still could sense additional sources of mana in the general area. Someone was still hiding. Maybe several people — I couldn’t tell.

The other two members of the six, maybe?

Who’s concealing them? The dust-thrower? Think he’s the illusionist of the group.

But why are some of them visible now? Because they attacked, or…

I gave Muramasa a quizzical look. Had he helped me? Dispelled whatever effect had been hiding them?

I hadn’t seen him do anything, but some spells could be subtle.

“You shouldn’t have warned him, Muramasa.” The archer scowled as he nocked another arrow. “You’re supposed to be on our side.”

Muramasa scoffed. “If you cannot defeat a single opponent without an ambush, you have no place in the final round.”

“I am in agreement.” Takeshi Kurita stepped forward, hands sitting on the two swords at his side. “Let us settle this properly.”

“Gladly.” I raised the Pale Crescent. “One question first.”

Takeshi nodded, his strange helmet dipping downward. “Ask.”

“The last time I fought you, it was just a copy, right? Is this the real Takeshi Kurita? I don’t want to waste too much effort on more simulacra.”

“Ah.” He pressed his hands together in front of him in some kind of gesture I didn’t recognize. “Forgive me for the earlier deception. That was not a simulacra, but rather a shade. Suzuki,” he gestured toward the man with all the pouches, “is a Conjurer, and we felt that using copies for the Battle Royale would be wise. I assure you that I am the true Takeshi Kurita.”

“Perfect.” I laughed, processing.

Four opponents, all high-level. Takeshi is probably Emerald. The others may be as well.

Someone still hidden. Muramasa still capable of jumping in at any time on any side.

This is going to be fun.

I slowly lowered my sword into a ready stance, staring straight toward Takeshi. He met my gaze, hands settling on the hilts of his undrawn weapons.

Then, in the same moment, we moved.

Takeshi flashed forward, crossing the entire chamber and drawing both curved swords in a single clean motion.

My move was simpler: I clicked my heels.

Lock.

Then I met his swords with mine, instantly sending a surge of light mana up the Pale Crescent to form an aura around the blade.

As lightning shot up Takeshi’s right hand and into his sword, it met with the light aura. Sparks flew across the area, but the electricity failed to break through the light. In a moment, I was shoving him backward, breaking the brief embrace of our blades.

I flicked my sword upward, leaving a crescent hovering in mid-air. That crescent blocked Takeshi’s next angle of attack, forcing him to maneuver to my right.

I hopped backward to avoid another arrow, then sliced upward to bisect a blast of lighting. A moment later, the yari-wielder was coming from my left side, lifting his weapon to exploit any opening that Takeshi created. He didn’t bother taking an immediate swing: he just waited. I understood why.

With a group of four, they didn’t need to press me hard — they just needed to wear me down until I made a mistake. With four opponents, I couldn’t afford to be aggressive, either. The cleanest strategy was to back off and find an area where I could fight them one at a time, like a narrow hallway.

Nah.

I charged.

Takeshi’s eyes widened, but he still swung at me in the moment that I moved toward him.

Magnetic repulse.

The blast of magnetism knocked his sword out of position, then I rushed right past him. As the yari-wielder thrust from my side, I smacked it out of the way and kept running.

Another arrow. I cut it in half, reshaping the resulting explosion to shield me from another thrust from the yari-wielder, then kept running toward my target.

Suzuki — the lightning-thrower guy who was apparently the team’s Conjurer — vanished as I closed in on him. That was fine: I hit him anyway. I felt the crunch as I swung the Pale Crescent, flat-side first, through the space where he’d been standing.

A moment later, I spun, parried two more swings from Takeshi Kurita — he’d been just behind me — and then snapped the fingers on my left hand.

The archer’s quiver exploded.

I heard him scream as the flames from a half-dozen fire-imbued arrows spread across his body. The yari-wielder cursed and rushed toward him while Takeshi continued swinging rapidly, backing me up toward the cavern wall.

Something shifted in his expression, then.   A translucent aura spread across his body. For an instant, his eyes flashed bright blue.

His next strike was faster, but I still managed to block it, barely.

Then I slipped. Not because of a mistake: because the floor beneath me had been covered in ice.

I stumbled backward. His second blade came up, tearing a long cut across my chest. I barely felt it. Distantly, I realized that meant his sword was somehow bypassing Shining Alone’s defensive powers, but I didn’t really care.

I was having too much fun to be distracted by something as inconsequential as a chest wound.

His next two swings were just as fast, but I matched them, laughing as I slid backward on the patch of ice. Another snap of my fingers produced a blast of flame that melted the ice beneath me, then I tilted my head to the side to avoid a thrust straight for my face.

Body of Stone. I swung hard, driving him back a step, then flicked my sword upward as he maneuvered.

“High Tide.”

Takeshi jumped backward as the hovering crescents from each of my previous swings flashed at him. I pursued him immediately, swinging hard and forcing him backward as more and more crescents appeared around us. He spun, deflecting crescents with his swords, but failing to break them.

Distantly, I noted that the yari-wielder had put out the flames engulfing the archer and was casting some kind of healing magic.

Need to end this quickly.

I stomped the ground. A single spike shot up behind Takeshi’s right heel. He shifted mid-step to avoid it, but the motion threw him off balance, much like the ice had for me.

The Pale Crescent came down in what should have been a telling blow — only for my sword to be trapped mid-swing in a block of ice.

In an instant, I was reacting, a blast of flame freeing my sword as I spun to parry the swings of the newest threat:

A second Takeshi Kurita.

He was visually identical to the first, save for his weaponry. His left hand was empty. His right hand held a much longer curved sword, this one with a strange dull grey blade. When he swung that grey sword upward, I saw some kind of pure-white energy coil around it in a snake-like pattern.

Whatever that power was, I cut it in half before it could fully form, then hurled a blast of flame at his face. He stepped backward, a wall of ice manifesting to stop the fire, then I spun to block a pair of swings from the original Takeshi. He was still glowing with his translucent aura and moving fast.

“I underestimated you.” He maneuvered to my right while the other Takeshi moved around his wall of ice to flank me from the other side.

I glowered at him. “You said you were the real Takeshi.”

“I am.” He sounded apologetic. “I did not say that I was the only one here.”

Then we were moving again, the second Takeshi acquiring a translucent aura like the first as they both lunged.

I lunged, too. I didn’t parry their swings: I swung harder. Faster. I smashed their weapons out of position with raw, brute force.

My sheer aggression drove them back. For a moment, it seemed like implausibly, I was gaining ground. My lips parted to issue a command: “Low Ti—”

A blast of lightning slammed into my back. I staggered, losing my phrase, but it didn’t hurt. Shining Alone had stopped that attack from doing any real damage, but it failed in the next moment.

The first Takeshi’s sword flashed and drew a bloody line across my cheek.

I countered immediately, my sword knocking the second Takeshi’s swing aside and then continuing to the right—

Then a second blast of lightning hit me. I felt my muscles spasm as my amulet failed to protect me. My grip loosened and my knees wobbled.

The next swing from the original Takeshi sent me skidding backward on a newly-formed patch of ice, then after another blast of lightning, I fell to the ground.

With a grunt, I plunged the Pale Crescent into the cavern floor to steady myself. My body trembled with a kind of pain that even I couldn’t ignore.

As I trembled, trying and failing to push myself to my feet, I processed my surroundings.

The two versions of Takeshi Kurita were approaching cautiously, blades at the ready.

In one side of the cavern, the archer was sitting with his back against the wall, drinking what was probably a healing potion. The yari-wielder stood protectively in front of him.

The real problem was behind me.

Suzuki was already gathering electrical energy in his hands…and he wasn’t alone.

A conjured copy of Suzuki was doing the exact same thing. A shade of the archer was knocking an arrow at his side. And a duplicate of the yari-wielder was standing in front of the pair, blocking for them.

Four against one had been long odds, even for me.

Eight against one? With their skill levels?

That was basically impossible. No rational person would have even kept fighting at that point.

I couldn’t have been more excited.

“You’ve fought well.” Takeshi Kurita — the first one — approached me. “There would be no dishonor in surrendering now.”

“True.” I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath and commanding my trembling muscles to calm.

Release Body of Stone.

Strength at the cost of speed wouldn’t help me against such a large group.

One more breath, then my eyes opened with renewed focus.

“I decline.”

I ripped the Pale Crescent from the floor as I stood and swung in a single motion, spinning in a circle.

Normally, spinning in a fight was an awful decision. There was virtually no practical application: even when you’re surrounded, spinning generally creates too many openings to be useful. And in that moment, no one was even in reach.

That was why it worked.

The Pale Crescent left a chest-height circular wound in air all around me with the full length of the sword’s blade. That might have been a useful defensive tool to keep opponents at bay, but I wasn’t in a defending mood.

I flicked a finger against the cut.

Burst.

The ring exploded in a burst of cutting force that ripped across the entire chamber.

I charged in the wake of the explosion, rushing straight for the lightning throwers. The yari-wielder thrust his weapon into the ground and formed some kind of purple barrier constructed from numerous interlocking hexagons. The barrier shattered the moment my explosion hit it, hurling him backward and into the second archer.

The lightning mages ducked the explosion, then with eerie simultaneity, hurled lances of electrical energy in my direction.

My sword flickered from side-to-side, deflecting the lightning. I was nearly on top of them in the next moment, bringing my sword down. I was almost fast enough.

Almost.

Ice grabbed my right arm, wrenching it downward. I swung around to find both versions of Takeshi Kurita striding toward me, bearing identical cuts across their chests from where my explosion had hit them.

I lifted my other arm to conjure a ball of flame. The second Takeshi pointed at my hand with his own. My hand froze solid, the flame I’d been conjuring suddenly snuffed out.

“It’s over,” the first Takeshi spoke.

“You will be remembered,” said the second.

Their swords went up —

Then the entire chamber went black.

“Down,” whispered a familiar voice.

I didn’t hesitate.

Body of Iron.

I ripped free from the ice in a burst of force, then hurled myself to the ground.

An explosion tore across the room in the next moment. Not of fire.

An explosion of void.

I shivered as I felt it pass over me, my memories flashing to when Taer’vys had used a similar technique against me and reduced Dawn to nearly powerless. If that had hit me in my current state, it wouldn’t have ended well for me.

The void didn’t linger in the air: this was a single detonation, not a sustained effect. The darkness, too, ended in a heartbeat.

But the damage had been done.

As I looked upward from the ground, I saw the single remaining Suzuki stepping backward in sudden horror at the sight of the dark-garbed woman in front of him. As electricity crackled at his fingertips, she lunged and plunged a pair of daggers straight into his chest. His eyes widened, then he vanished.

He’d been one of only three of my opponents still on their feet.

The burst of void had eradicated the conjured shades. Only the originals remained — and the archer had been cut twice across the chest, presumably while the room had been enshrouded in the shadow. He hadn’t vanished, but he wasn’t in any shape to fight.

That left the yari-wielder and the original Takeshi Kurita, who roared and charged straight at my unexpected ally’s back with unexpected ferocity.

The dark-garbed woman spun and raised her daggers in a defensive stance. An inky layer of armor spread across her body as Takeshi charged, but I could still see her face clearly.

Meilin.

She hadn’t been the rescuer I’d expected, but I wasn’t going to complain.

No, I was going to fight.

I smashed a fist into the ground. In response, the floor beneath Takeshi shattered, sending him stumbling forward.

Meilin took the opening in an instant, surging forward with surprising speed. She was much faster than I remembered, but she had a huge reach disadvantage. After a brief probing strike, Takeshi pushed her back, then erected a wall of ice behind her. She slammed into the wall, barely dodging to the side as one of his swords thrust forward, burying itself in the ice.

His second sword arced toward her neck. I was still on the ground, dozens of feet away, but I had one way I could reach them.

Magnetic pull.

Takeshi’s second sword yanked backward out of position.

Meilin responded in an instant, driving her daggers into Takeshi’s chest.

“…Well…done…” He mumbled, stumbling backward and releasing his grip on his swords. His hands went to the wounds on his chest. He coughed once, then opened his mouth to speak again.

He didn’t get the chance. He vanished in the next moment.

The yari-wielder charged Meilin from across the room, but he was so far away that his motion seemed slow and obvious. I flicked my sword toward him.

“Low Tide.”

Dozens of lingering crescents flashed across the room. He deflected many, but others cut through his legs, leaving him stumbling to the floor.

I pushed myself to my feet, walking toward him. He took one awkward thrust from the ground, which I batted out of the way without effort.

“You fought well.” I smashed him across the head with the pommel of my sword. He vanished.

I walked toward the wounded archer next.

He took one look at me, his eyes meeting mine, then he lowered his head in a gesture of respect. “I yield.”

Then he was gone.

Just like that, the fight was over.

…at least for the moment.

I turned toward Satoshi Muramasa. He still stood near the titanic crystal, not a single speck of dust on his immaculate outfit. He’d certainly been in range of several of the attacks during the battle, but he had remained completely untouched.

He was watching us, but said nothing.

Something about the look in his eyes bothered me. There was danger burning there, but he made no motion to move.

I stepped toward Meilin, keeping my sword in one hand in case she decided to make any hostile moves. “You hurt?” I asked her.

“No.” She shook her head, sheathing her daggers at her side. “But you are.”

I blinked. She was right, of course, but I’d almost forgotten about it. Cautiously, I reached into the bag at my side and retrieved a healing potion. I flipped it open, pouring some on my face and chest, then drank the rest. I took a breath, releasing my Body of Iron. “Thank you for the help.”

Meilin’s expression got complicated. “…I didn’t do it for you. Now, let’s go.”

“Go?” I asked.

“To finish this challenge. I don’t know why you came all the way down here, but our objectives are up top.”

I hesitated. “I…”

In that moment, I was too focused on the conversation. On what to do next.

I never should have let my guard down.

In the next moment, Meilin was stumbling backward, pressing her hands to a gaping wound on her abdomen. No, wounds. Several. And they were spreading.

“R…rei…” Meilin managed. Then her eyes shut. She fell forward.

She vanished the instant I caught her.

I turned around, trembling in fury.

Satoshi Muramasa stood behind me, less than a sword-length away, blood matting his fingertips.

He’d cut Meilin so quickly I hadn’t even sensed it.

“You.” My hands trembled in rage. “You said that you weren’t allowed to fight.”

“Ah.” Muramasa pressed his hands together in front of him. “No. I said I wasn’t allowed to fight you. An understandable misunderstanding. Her, on the other hand—”

I swung. Muramasa caught The Pale Crescent effortlessly in his empty hand. “Hm.”

Body of Iron. I pushed.

He stepped backward along with my movement. Not stumbling, just adjusting to the pressure of my push. My sword failed to bite into his hand.

“You would be unwise to pursue this further.” His voice was emotionless. Matter-of-fact. “You are injured and exhausted.”

“You’re right,” I acknowledged.

Something like relief flashed over his face. “Then I will permit you to—”

I punched that face.

Or…rather, I tried to.

My fist passed through a flickering after-image. In an instant, he’d moved ten paces back, again too quickly for me to process.

He shook his head in disapproval. “Are you certain this is the path you wish to take?”

I flicked my sword upward and gave him my answer.

Golden Dawn.

My sword flashed with blinding brightness. It wasn’t as effective as Dawn’s true technique, but I’d saved most of my light mana throughout the fighting thus far, and the burst was still more than enough to catch an ordinary opponent off-guard.

Muramasa shut his eyes.

I launched myself forward, covering the distance between us in less than a breath. My first swing was a wide downward arc, cleaving through the air and leaving a hovering crescent in the blade’s wake. It was a fast, fight-ending cut.

Eyes still closed, Muramasa simply stepped backward, out of my reach. It was a minimalist movement, perfectly calculated.

My next three swings had the exact same result. I pushed aggressively, slicing at different angles with each movement. Each time, Muramasa simply evaded. When the light burning around my blade faded, his eyes opened immediately, but his expression was distant.

…Precognition? Need to test.

I slammed a foot into the ground. Ordinarily, I used that gesture to create a stone wall right in front of me, but this was a deliberate misdirect. Spikes shot upward from the ground right behind Muramasa, directly in the path that he’d take to continue his evasive action.

He stepped backward as expected, but as the spikes shot up from the ground, he stepped onto them deliberately. Not on the points, but on the sides of the outgrowth of stone, somehow timing each step perfectly to brace against them and jump forward, projecting himself toward me with sudden force.

His blade flew free from his scabbard with such speed and power that when I barely managed to raise the Pale Crescent, the sheer power of the impact launched me backward across half the chamber, sending me skidding across the ground when I landed.

I took a breath, watching Muramasa closely.

His massive sword was already back in the scabbard, but the sword and scabbard had pulled free from his back, and now they were floating in mid-air next to him. He’d resheathed it immediately after that single attack. It was possible that he had a combat style based around quick draws, but I didn’t think that was all there was to it.

He was afraid of drawing that sword for too long. It was a feeling I understood all-too-well. I might have questioned it more if I wasn’t currently burning with a single goal.

I was going to break that man.

Release Body of Iron.

I launched myself back at him, hurling a blast of flame as I moved.

He swept the flames aside with a casual motion, just as I predicted. I swung downward to exploit the brief opening, but Muramasa simply glided backward across the ground, seemingly without taking a step. My swing came within a millimeter of his face, but he showed no sign of concern. The moment my blade moved past, he stepped inward, thrusting a palm toward my chest.

I’d expected that, too.

Magnetic pull.

A pulse of metal mana yanked at his sword, pulling the colossal weapon toward my left bracer. An instant of surprise flashed through his steel-grey eyes and his hand shot upward, preventing the sword from slipping out of position. I’d pulled hard, so that implied significant strength on his part or some degree of magic resistance. Possibly both.

Either way, he aborted his attack entirely, jumping backward out of my reach before I could complete a counter.

“The bracers will not work.” He shook his head, then winced, as if in pain. “A curse cannot be so easily broken.”

“Guess I’ll need to try a little harder, then.” I released the magnetic pull, then began to step to the right. We began to circle each other.

“High Tide.” As I spoke, hovering blades flashed from around the chamber, shooting toward Muramasa. He stepped backward, far outside of sword reach. For a moment, he went absolutely still.

Then there was a flicker of movement and Muramasa was standing behind me, sheathing his sword.

I’d been able to see a fraction of what he’d done, just barely. In the span of a heartbeat, he’d stuck every single crescent exactly once. They weren’t simply sliced in two, however: where he’d swept his blade through the crescents, they’d been rent apart, as if slashed a hundred times from different angles.

I turned toward my opponent, eyes flashing to the now-sheathed weapon at his side with new respect, then back upward to meet his eyes. “What is that sword?”

“You are not ready.” Muramasa’s hands shot out to his sides, his fingers stretched into blade-like form. “I should not have used it. The sword is not needed.”

My eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?”

“I intend no insult. You are simply not ready to challenge me.” He shook his head. “A pity, really.”

The taunt was obnoxiously obvious. He was baiting me, trying to get me angry enough to make a mistake.

The joke was on him. I was already furious. “Really? You think you’ve figured me out?”

“Your movements are flawed. Predictable.”

I glared at him. “Predict this.”

Unchain.

I hurled the Pale Crescent straight at him, the chain attached to it separating as I moved. When he disdainfully side-stepped the hurled sword, I rushed him, whipping the metal chain at his feet.

He hopped over the chain without difficulty, as expected. Before he could land, however, I tossed a blast of fire straight at the ofuda around his sword’s hilt.

That got his attention.

He moved faster, a warbling field of energy appearing around his hands as he swept them through the flames. When he landed, he raised a still-gleaming arm, presumably to slash in my direction.

I flicked a wrist as I closed in. My bracer reshaped itself as I moved, shifting into a dagger and flying toward him. He shifted to avoid the flying projectile, aborting his own swing. Then I swept my other hand through the air.

Pull.

Feather Light shot toward him from behind. He whirled, either sensing the movement or using whatever precognition abilities were at his disposal. He deflected the dagger with his own bladebreak bracer, sending it wildly off-course. Cracks formed in the blade as it flew backward, suffering the effects of the bracer’s power.

The chamber’s light dimmed. It didn’t matter.

Body of Dawn.

As he turned back toward me, I closed the distance between us in an instant, slammed a foot down on his trailing robes to trap him in place, then punched him right in the jaw.

I wasn’t swinging with the absolute maximum force possible. I’d trained myself to check my swings to avoid punching through someone’s face entirely. Still, I expected the impact to deal some serious damage.

When I connected with his face, my fist simply stopped. I jumped backward a moment later, purely out of instinct, as his own right hand swept upward and ripped through the space where I’d been standing…at the same speed I was moving with Body of Dawn active.

No, maybe faster.

My hand burned from the force of the impact. It wasn’t as bad as when I’d first punched Reika in her dragon form, but it was a wonderful, cutting pain that brought me renewed alertness and focus.

“Are you finished now?” Muramasa asked, sounding less like someone in a battle and more like he was checking if we were ready to leave the grocery store.

Release Body of Dawn.

I can’t beat him with speed alone.

I’d burned through much of my minimal supply of spirit and light mana in just a few moments. I couldn’t afford to use Body of Dawn continuously, and even a few more moments risked causing myself harm.

Distantly, I sensed someone else approaching the area. I ignored that sense. I only had eyes for my opponent.

I lowered my hands, examining Muramasa more closely. There was something familiar about fighting him. Something exhilarating, like this battle was what I was made for.

Who are you, really?

I couldn’t wait to cut some answers out of him. I cracked my neck. “You think I’m done? You haven’t even scratched me yet.”

“Ah. You are unaware.” He raised a finger and pointed.

I glanced downward, just for a moment.

There was a thin cut diagonally across my entire chest, crossing the one that Takeshi Kurita had made earlier. It had sliced straight through my shadeweave tunic and drawn a hairline cut across my skin, just enough to draw blood.

I turned my eyes back up to Muramasa, processing. “…When I jumped back after the punch, you extended your aura beyond your hand. I thought I was out of reach, but…”

“You understand now. You are outmatched. Regrettably, I must—”

I launched myself at him again. He frowned in dissatisfaction, moving in a blur.

I flew backward, slamming hard into a wall of the cavern. There was only a brief surge of pain as the stone crumbled on impact. In that instant, he was in front of me again, driving his fists repeatedly into my chest. Pain seared through my body, then a final strike snapped my head back, knocking it into the stone.

My vision swam.

Muramasa stepped back, shaking his head in distaste. “Unfettered aggression will not avail you.”

“Is that what you think I was doing?” I asked. “Just attacking, without a plan?”

“Perhaps you thought to test my maximum speed, or my full strength? I assure you that I am using neither.”

I painfully pulled myself out of the rubble of the wall I’d been smashed into, wiping blood off my lip. “Nah, nothing like that. Just needed you in reach.”

Mask.

It only took a sliver of essence, a tiny fraction of something I’d never tried to use on its own. I’d worn the Mask of Kishor off-and-on for weeks now. I’d felt its power, understood its effects, and acclimated to the mana it fed into me.

I wasn’t wearing the mask, but I didn’t need to. I’d always had a knack for picking up powers from magical items. The mask was no exception. And as it turns out, things that block divination do a pretty great job of blocking precognition, too.

When his eyes widened just a fraction, I knew it had worked.

He started moving immediately, but so did I.

Body of Dawn.

I shot forward. Not to strike him again — I knew I couldn’t hit him hard enough to deal any significant damage without activating Body of Stone or Iron. Activating one of them at the same time as Body of Dawn wasn’t strictly impossible, but it wasn’t what I wanted.

While he stepped backward in panic, I surged forward, grabbed the hilt of his cursed weapon, and ripped it right out of his scabbard.

Something itched at the back of my mind as the sword ripped free of the ofuda. A flash of something familiar, like I’d wielded this weapon before. It might have been terribly distracting under ordinary circumstances, but with Body of Dawn active, the feeling was little more than a nuisance.

The blade in my hand bristled with power and fury. A whirlwind of power rippled around the edge, like a thousand tiny cuts happening at once. None of the power came close to me, however, and even if it did, I felt utterly unthreatened.

I flicked the sword upward and rested it underneath Muramasa’s chin. As I expected, the rending aura around the sword didn’t harm him in the slightest, but his eyes still showed absolute shock.

Release Body of Dawn.

“Yield. Now.”

“You have beaten me fairly.” He said with a hint of sadness in his tone.

I gave him a nod, preparing to withdraw the weapon. “Then you…”

Something pierced through me from behind. A javelin of pure force, near impossible to perceive in the darkness of the chamber. It was as wide as a hand and stuck through my right shoulder, right near the joint where it met my arm. A few more inches to the side and it might have pierced my heart. As it was, it had nearly torn off my arm.

Muramasa stared into my eyes as I processed the damage. “Regrettably, fairness in battle has never been my greatest concern.”

There was no conventional pain at first, just a feeling of sudden cold and numbness that spread throughout my arm and chest with alarming swiftness.

The pain came an instant later, a feeling like a thousand tiny needles flowing through my veins.

I screamed, absolute agony momentarily suppressing my capacity for conscious thought.

But I didn’t drop his sword.

Instead, with my arm barely attached, my grip tightened.

For an instant, I contemplated shattering the sword in my hand, but the feeling of familiarity from the blade gave me pause.

No. I need to learn what this is.

Instead, I ripped the sword downward, toward Muramasa’s chest.

Once again, I lost to my own hesitation.

Muramasa stepped to the side, then jabbed a hand into my shoulder, just above where the lance had struck. Numbness spread further, then finally, the sword fell from limp fingers to clatter on the floor.

He smashed me in the face a moment later. I staggered backward, then he hit me again. And again. And again.

His attacks were a blur, leaving both bruises and cuts as his own aura flashed on and off between strikes.

I raised my one functional arm in an effort to slow the flurry, but it accomplished little. His speed and precision outstripped mine by orders of magnitude when I didn’t have Body of Dawn active. I didn’t have enough essence left to use Body of Dawn again.

In the purest throes of agony, my instincts told me that I had a single option.

Do it. Use it. Your real sword.

My left hand shot to the Dominion Breaker’s hilt. Drawing from the wrong side was awkward, but more than possible, especially if I simply destroyed the scabbard that had held it in place, restraining me for far too long.

Muramasa backed me into the chamber wall. Blood flashed in my vision as a cut appeared over my left eye. Another strike slammed my head into the wall, momentarily making the world go black.

When my eyes opened, Muramasa had stepped back a single step, raising his right hand.

His cursed sword hovered from the ground, shooting toward his open palm.

In that moment, I saw it in my mind.

I draw my true sword in a single instant, tearing straight through the pitiful remains of its restraints. In the same motion, I cut into his body, releasing the Essence Breaker technique and destroying him, alongside all the other remaining threats—

<Keras, no!>

The pain in that voice shattered my reverie in an instant. I felt it, then — the coming of silver and light, flashing in my direction.

Muramasa grabbed his own floating sword from the air.

<Right!> A new image flashed in my mind. And I moved, but not to cut.

I spun to the right, Muramasa’s cursed blade piercing through the wall behind me rather than my chest. And my hand stretched outward, meeting a hilt in mid-flight.

The moment my fingertips brushed against her, I felt renewed power flood into my beaten body. I continued my spin as Muramasa ripped his sword straight through the wall, meeting his swing with the blade of the Sword of Dawn’s Bright Light.

There was a crack as the swords met and Dawn’s light shattered the dark. Muramasa stumbled backward in sudden panic. “No. You’re not supposed to be here.” Muramasa’s voice trembled as I pressed my newly-reclaimed sword against his, pushing him back a step. “He’s supposed to be alone.”

<You’ve been misinformed.> Her voice reverberated in my mind, and from the surprise in his expression, in Muramasa’s as well. <You see, I’m Dawnbringer. The beautiful, wonderous, and supremely powerful Sacred Sword of Light. And my wielder is never alone.>

My right hand flared with redoubled power, bathing the entire chamber in an instant sun-bright light as the walls between Dawn’s spirit and my own crumbled in an instant.

Muramasa took another step backward in shock.

We took the opening.

<Body of Dawn.>

The world slowed. I battered Muramasa’s massive sword downward, then left a hair-thin cut across his chest with my own next swing.

<Behind!>

I swung around and cleaved another lance of solid force in twain, then deflected Muramasa’s next swing and jabbed Dawnbringer into his chest.

“You…you’re…” Muramasa’s eyes flickered downward against the sword pressed against his heart.

“Whole again.” I glared at him. “And very concerned about your dishonorable conduct. Now, drop your sword so we can have a little chat.”

Muramasa glared at me for just a moment. “This isn’t over.” Then he whistled a single note and vanished.

Several tons of dragon tail swept through the space where he’d been standing an instant before.

“Aww.” Reika lowered her head and sniffed at the air. “Gone. And I spent all that time getting into a perfect ambush spot!”

There was a burst of mist as Reika shifted back into her humanoid form.

I scanned the area, finding no sign of Muramasa. That meant very little, given how quickly he could move, but I didn’t sense him, either. That feeling of something similar to a sacred sword was gone.

I lowered Dawnbringer and sighed at Reika, feeling my body slow back down to normal speed as Body of Dawn faded. “I had that.”

“Oh, yeah, sure. Check behind you?”

I turned to find a dozen spears of force hovering in mid-air, strangely still present in spite of their controller being knocked out. “Huh. Dawn, you could have warned me.”

I swept Dawn through the spears, dissipating them just in case Muramasa chose to reappear.

<Well, yeah, but I sensed where Rei was and thought she’d hit him before he could turn you into a pincushion.>

I raised an eyebrow at Rei. “How exactly did you manage to sneak up on him?

“Same way you didn’t see me. After I threw you the sword, I poofed through the cavern wall. Dawn showed me where to poof back out behind him. Sneaky, sneaky.”

I gave her a weary nod. “You two make a good team.”

Reika gave me a sad smile. “We do. We’re great together. But I’m no substitute for her wielder. And, from the look of it, you definitely need her more.”

“I…” I started to argue, then my shoulders slumped. “I…you might be right.” I looked down at Dawnbringer’s gleaming blade. “Thank you, Dawn. For coming back to me.”

<Hmpf. I couldn’t exactly let you lose a sword fight without me. My reputation is at stake, too, you know.>

“I wasn’t going to lose, but sure. And Reika, thank you, too. I still—”

Reika walked closer, raising both hands in a gesture to wait. “Later, Keras. You need to potion up. Like, real fast. Your arm is…uh, bad.”

“Oh, it’s…” I glanced down again. With the adrenaline of battle fading, I finally processed the gigantic hole in my chest. It was bleeding like, well, a lot. “Yeah, okay, that’s bad.”

I tried to reach down to my bag with my right hand, which was a mistake. Renewed pain flooded through me the instant I made the attempt.

<Goddess, Keras, I know you’re eager to keep your hands on me, but use your good hand!>

Grudgingly, I set Dawnbringer down for a moment, then used my left hand to rip a healing potion out of my bag. I flipped the cap off, then downed it.

Then another.

Then another.

I drained every single potion in my bag in rapid succession. I honestly didn’t know if chugging that many potions together added any significant benefit, but given that my shoulder injury looked like something that my limited medical expertise classified as “super fatal”, I figured it was wise to do what I could. That seemed to be enough to stop the bleeding, at least, and begin to close some of the wound, but my arm still ached like mad.

A moment later, I ripped off a few bits of my own shadeweave tunic and pasted them over both sides of the hole. As I’d hoped, they quickly adhered to the damaged area and helped to seal it off.

With that done, I used a magnetic pull to lift Dawn back to my hand. I didn’t trust myself to be able to bend down and pick her up without reopening my injury.

Reika moved closer, her eyes full of concern. “I think we need to get out of here. With a wound like that, you should have been teleported straight out of the match.”

<Maybe someone wants Keras to have a tragic accident.>

“Plausible.” Reika searched from side-to-side, seemingly looking for any other attackers in the area, but didn’t seem to find anything. “Let’s get moving. He could come back at any time.”

I grunted. “I wouldn’t mind another shot at—”

“Keras. No.” She put a hand over my lips. “You are in no condition for that. Listen to me for once, please?”

I stared hard at her. “…Fine.” I sighed. “He…seemed to know me, Reika. There was something…familiar about him.”

“I know. I sensed something like that, too. We can talk about it later. For now, come here.” She gestured for me to move closer.

“Why? Is there a threat near me?”

“So I can hug you, almost-dead-guy. Then so I can help carry you out of this place, before those Buried over there finish materializing.”

I turned to follow her gesture, noticing several half-formed spectral entities in the darkness of the chamber near the crystal. “Oh. Right. Those are still a thing.”

“Escape now?”

“Escape now,” I concurred. At my insistence, Reika retrieved Feather Light and the Pale Crescent, sheathing the latter and carrying the former. Then, together, we half-limped, half-ran out of the underground chamber and back to the temple above.

***

The rest of the test was remarkably simplistic by comparison. Once we got up top, Reika shifted back into her full-sized dragon form. I handed her my barrier token, then grudgingly reshaped the stone to cover the passage we’d emerged from. It wouldn’t stop the strongest Buried from getting through, but it would buy time.

Reika took off into flight, heading straight through the collapsed stone in an incorporeal state, then out of the temple. Her goal was to use my token and her own to activate any barriers she could, hopefully earning some points and ending the test as quickly as possible.

I drew Dawn and sat down with her draped across my knees, waiting for any further Buried to emerge.

We were silent for a time.

I missed you, you know.

<Obviously. What’s not to miss?>

I mean it, Dawn. You…mean a lot to me.

She was silent for a long time after that.

<…I missed you, too.>

CHAPTER XIX – FADING LIGHT

Dawn and I waited together for a solid half hour before the announcement finally came.

[This challenge has been completed. You will be teleported out of the arena momentarily.]

My vision blurred, then I was in a waiting room. Immediately, I found myself surrounded by medics.

I only had a moment to sheathe Dawn at my side before a medical team rushed me into a recovery room.

I don’t remember much of the day after that. I do remember, however, the feeling of warmth that came with having Dawn back at my side.

I remember pulling her scabbard off my belt and setting her at the side of my bed to sleep.

I remember the last few words we exchanged.

<Keras?>

Yes, Dawn?

<…Can I stay with you, up there?>

Sure.

Exhausted, I lifted the scabbard and pulled her into the bed.

<Hold me closer.>

I pulled the covers up, pressing Dawn against my chest. She felt warm in my arms, and for a moment, I felt something I hadn’t felt in weeks.

Calm. Contented.

<Good night, Keras.>

Good night, Dawn.

My eyes closed and, together, we fell asleep.

I wish that peace could have lasted.

***

I awakened in the middle of the night caked in sweat. The last moments of a nightmare played in my mind:

Meilin, her abdomen ripped apart with monstrous claws.

As the vision faded, memory returned.

Meilin.

Meilin!

With a surge of panic, I shoved off my bedsheets and wrestled my sword belt on. Fortunately, although someone had changed me into grey hospital garb, all of my swords were in the room.

I felt a renewed surge of pain in my shoulder as I pulled open the door to my room and stumbled down the hospital halls.

The first few hospital staff I found looked at me with surprise and concern, but they apparently didn’t speak enough Valian to answer my fevered, “Where is Wu Meilin?”

Admittedly, I may have been slurring my words a bit, too. My head was swimming and not entirely due to exhaustion. I was in pain, too, but it felt distant and numb.

Eventually, I found something that might have been an information counter. An older Edrian woman there blinked at me and responded to my questions with, “Why are you out of bed?”

“Wu Meilin. I need to find her. Please. Is she…”

The woman gave me a quizzical look. “Family?”

I shook my head. “No. From…my martial arts school. We were fighting together.”

“I understand. I can look into that, but…you need to go back to your bedroom, sir.” She lifted a finger to point. “You’re bleeding. You probably tore your stitches. You should be in bed.”

I glanced down, noting a spreading wound across the shoulder section of my hospital shirt. I pulled it up with a couple fingers and noted that nearly my entire chest was covered in bandages — and those bandages had bled through.

“I…uh, oh.” I winced. “Sorry?”

“What’s your name?” She asked.

“Keras Selyrian,” I managed, briefly surprised that she didn’t recognize me. “Please. I’ll go back in a bit, just let me see her. If she’s here. I…owe her.”

She pulled out a folder, sifted through some files. I also noticed her pressing some kind of button beneath the counter. Distantly, I suspected she was alerting the guards that someone dangerous was out of their room, which was…probably wise. I was a little panicked and carrying three swords, after all. “Selyrian…” She frowned again, looking through the paperwork. “Critical condition. Severe shoulder injury. Numerous lacerations. Healing potion toxicity. Treatments…” She blinked. “With that dosage of dreamroot…I don’t know how you’re standing.”

Oh. I’ve been drugged.

That did explain why I was feeling a little wobbly. “Oh, I’ve been known to walk off worse than this.” I tried to flash her a smile, distantly realizing that I probably wasn’t looking my most charming. I was just processing the fact that I wasn’t even wearing any boots. And my boots were, a distant part of me remembered, very important. I was not clear on why.

“You definitely haven’t,” she replied matter-of-factly.

“Please. Just…Meilin…is she alive?”

Her expression softened. “Hold on.” She pulled out another folder, searching, then scanned over paperwork. “Alive. You can’t visit her. She just came out of surgery. Whatever hit her…” She shook her head. “She lost a lot of blood. No visitation of any kind right now. Even if you weren’t another patient. Which you are.”

I noted the sound of people walking up behind me. Some kind of hospital guards, I presumed.

Not even armed. What a joke. I could take them in my sleep, I processed. Then I frowned at myself.

Wait, what am I even thinking? These are just people who work here. I’m…

“You should be in bed,” the older woman repeated.

“…I should be in bed.” I confirmed. “Th…thanks. Sorry for the trouble.”

I barely processed the walk back to my room or the people that escorted me. Fortunately, I didn’t make the mistake of trying to fight anyone. I was asleep again almost as soon as my head hit the pillow.

***

I woke to find that I couldn’t move my legs.

After a moment of absolute panic, I sat up, my eyes cleared, and I realized I simply had a very heavy Reika lying on my legs.

Apparently, at some point during the night, she’d climbed onto my bed and fallen asleep at the foot of it. I briefly pondered why she hadn’t just slipped in under the covers to cuddle like usual, then recalled the gigantic gaping hole in my arm.

In spite of the wonders of Kaldwyn’s magic, that arm still hadn’t healed completely. Someone must have changed my bandages and shirt after my late-night escapades, though. I wanted to look under the bandages to see what kind of condition I was in, but I didn’t want to risk making my injury worse again.

I was grateful that I could move my arm at all. Honestly, I was grateful to be alive. Such an injury would have been very likely to be fatal back at home, unless it was treated immediately. Even then, the best healer I’d known — Aladir Ta’thyriel — probably would have struggled with a wound of that severity.

Distantly, I remembered hearing the words “healing potion toxicity”, and I wondered what that entailed. It probably had something to do with my immediate urge to vomit upon waking, which I managed to restrain — barely — until I dislodged my legs from a still-sleeping Reika and stumbled into the washroom.

After washing out the sink and splashing some water on my face, I felt a little more human. Or, uh, humanish, at least.

I stumbled back to the bedroom, wincing as I accidentally used my injured arm to move the washroom door. I was going to have to be very careful for a few days.

Still, I couldn’t complain. This treatment was incredible, both in terms of the quality of healing magic and the fact that I’d been given my own private hospital room.

Wish I had this level of healing when Velas injured my hand.

It was mostly functional at this point, but even after over a year of healing, it still ached and spasmed from time to time.

…Has it really only been a year?

I thought back to my fight with Velas at the end of the Trials of Unyielding Steel. So much had happened since then. I’d changed so much…and not entirely for the better.

I…wonder how Velas is doing? And the others…

Are they even alive? There’s still so much I don’t understand.

I felt my hands balling into fists. I need to find whoever is responsible for this. And I need to break them to pieces.

I trembled, barely restraining myself from punching a nearby wall. With great effort, I relaxed my hands and shoulders to the best of my ability.

Before I do that, I need to find out who my target is. Maybe pay a visit to Valia at some point when I can find the time. There’s certain to be more information there.

I wobbled on my feet, catching myself by bracing myself against a wall with my good arm.

Whoa…okay, medicine kicking back in. Velthryn can wait. For now…I’ve got other work to do. Step one…go back to sleep.

And I did. At least for a little while.

***

I woke up a few hours later, feeling marginally better.

Dawn was still asleep, sheathed at my side. Reika woke up when I moved, then grudgingly helped me sign my hospital discharge paperwork.

Then, rather than leaving, I had Reika take me to the information desk. Someone else was there this time, but fortunately, he spoke Valian.

“Can you look up Wu Meilin for me?” I asked.

“Meilin?” Reika frowned. “Why would she be here?”

I froze. I hadn’t told her.

She didn’t know.

I turned, lifted my good arm, and put a hand on her shoulder. “She’s…she got hurt. Badly. She was helping me. She was alive when I asked last night, but…”

Reika’s eyes widened. “No. No!” She took a step back. “She…”

“There’s no need to panic,” the person at the counter interjected. “Her surgery was successful. She’s sleeping now, but barring any further complications, we expect her to pull through.”

“Where is she?” Reika demanded, her panic mirroring my own from the night before.

There was a brief exchange of information, then Reika was running down the hall. I hobbled after her.

They turned us away at the door to her room. Apparently, she was being taken in for a second surgery — one of her wounds had reopened.

My fist tightened as I remembered the sight of the injuries on her abdomen spreading before my eyes. Muramasa’s sword…it was like the wounds it caused were alive.

“Please let us know if there’s anything we can do. We…I can pay, if she needs any more expensive treatments,” I told the people at the door.

“That won’t be necessary. Medical treatment for injuries in the tournament is covered automatically,” the door-guard told me. “But…you may want to prepare. Your friend was hurt very badly. She may not be the same when she comes out of here.”

Reika took a step back, her expression sinking. “No…”

I weakly reached out toward her with a hand. “I’m sorry.”

Reika took my hand and squeezed. “It’s…I think I need some air.”

Together, we made our way out of the hospital. We agreed to come back to check on her again in a day or two. For the moment, there was nothing we could do.

***

I spent most of the walk back to the Study of Iron staring at the ground.

I can’t keep getting other people hurt like this. I need…

…I need to do something good. Something uncomplicated.

I pushed into my room, got dressed back into some normal clothes, then immediately headed back to the front door.

“You sure you should be going out so soon? Maybe we should just stay here and rest for the day.” Reika’s eyes were full of concern, but I just shrugged my one mostly functional shoulder at her.

“Can’t let my wounds slow me down. I have to do something.”

“Just gonna be vague?” She folded her arms. “I could help, you know.”

“I do need your help, but maybe not in the way you were thinking.” Slowly, I removed Dawn from my belt and offered her to Reika.

Reika took a step back. “Nope. You’re her wielder. She was angry — she’s still angry — but she chose to be with you. Don’t you want her back?”

“I do. And I want to be her wielder. I will be her wielder. But I need you to hold onto her for a little bit.”

“Come on, it’s obvious you’ve been in a bad mood. And you know what helps with that?”

“If you’re going to say the power of friendship—”

“I wasn’t, but you know, that’s not a bad way to look at it. If you’re feeling sad, her voice can help you focus.”

“…Talking to Dawn is great, but I don’t think I’d ever describe interacting with her as helping me focus.”

“You’re being stubborn.” She wrinkled her nose at me in distaste. “Haven’t you figured out yet that you don’t need to keep everything to yourself? You can trust us.”

“You’re right, and…I’ll work on that. But don’t storybook knights occasionally need to go do an important thing alone?”

“Sure,” she acknowledged. “Those arcs are usually garbage.”

“…Okay, fine. Just give me an hour or two to go do something in private. It won’t be dangerous, I promise.”

Reika frowned. “Nothing involving self-loathing or harm?”

“No, no. But I do need to do this when Dawn isn’t awake.”

“That sounds a little sketchy, Keras.”

I sighed. “It’s a surprise, Reika. A fun surprise, for later.”

“Oh!” Reika brightened. “Why didn’t you say so in the first place?”

I groaned. “I won’t be long.” I handed Dawn off to Reika, then turned to go.

“Nuh-uh, Keras! You need to go get a bath and a change of clothes first. I might be willing to watch Dawn for a little, but she’d murder me if I let you go out looking like that.”

I sighed. “…Fine.”

Some days, it wasn’t worth trying to fight a dragon.

***

Washing up and changing my outfit did help me feel a little better. I was tempted to put my shadeweave tunic back on to help my recovery, but it was bloodsoaked and filthy, so I decided to wait and get it cleaned first. Without it, I was feeling more vulnerable than I had in a long time.

Maybe the shirt wasn’t the main reason for that, in truth.

Once I got cleaned up, I headed out to town to do a small, secret task. Then, with my load and coin purse significantly lightened, I headed back to the Study of Iron.

When I got back, I found Rei dressed, but also napping in her bed. After a brief dialogue with the half-awake dragon, I decided to rest with her until Dawn woke up. My shoulder was still pretty sore in spite of the healing, and I didn’t mind taking a little time to relax.

After about a half hour or so, I felt a shifting in consciousness from the sword at my side, which was…a strange sensation. I’d noticed it before, but it was more jarring now that we’d been apart for quite a while. Her voice came not long after that.

<Hmm…? Oh, good morning, Keras.>

I cracked a smile as I heard Dawn waking up. “How’d you sleep?”

<Fine, I guess. Still…> I heard a yawn, <feeling sleepy, though.>

“You can go back to sleep if you want to, Rei and I are just going to go shopping.”

She perked up immediately. <Shopping? You want to go shopping without me? What sort of sword do you take me for?>

Yes, yes. I know you have the most refined tastes. We’re kind of focusing on tournament stuff today, though, not aesthetics.

<Pfft. We can find things that work for both, you just need a proper lady’s touch.> She went quiet for a moment. <But…uh, before that. We need to have a talk.>

I could feel her trepidation as she spoke. Maybe dread would be a better word. Trepidation wasn’t quite strong enough to describe her emotion, and I felt a bit of whiplash at the sudden shift from her excitement. I blinked. “Uh, sure. Should we wait for Reika to wake up? She’s usually involved in whatever—”

<Not for this. This is about us, at least mostly, and it should be between us. Rei is involved, but…let’s not complicate it any further than we need to. I’ve talked to her already, and we’re on the same page.>

“Rei does like to flip through pages quickly, though.” From Dawn’s silence, I knew my attempt at levity utterly failed. “Okay, sure.” I reclined, pulled Dawn up to lay down next to me, then whispered to her in a conspiratorial tone. “What’s this about?”

<It’s about you.>

“I never mind talking about myself — I’m one of my favorite subjects. Which of my virtues shall we extoll today?”

<It’s not about your virtues.>

“I don’t know if there’s going to be much to discuss, then.”

I heard a sigh. <Keras. I’m being serious. Can you be?>

“I suppose I technically could be.” I took a breath. “Okay. Go ahead.”

<So, at the end of the last match, Reika and I showed up.>

I nodded. “Yeah. Was I not being grateful enough? I mean, I could have handled him on my own, but I appreciate you checking in on me. Made things go easier, probably saved me some trouble.”

<That’s the problem, Keras. We weren’t there to save you from Muramasa.>

I blinked. “Did I get in your way somehow, then? If I interfered with Reika getting a good score, then I suppose I owe her an apology.”

<No, Keras. We were there for you, but not to save you from Muramasa. We were there to save Muramasa from you. We were there to save you from yourself.>

“…What? What’s that supposed to mean?” I tried not to be too offended, but it wasn’t working. I felt my jaw tighten.

<You’ve been acting a little off for weeks. Ever since…ever since…>

“Ever since I got Ari killed. Of course I’m a ‘little off’. Ari died, Dawn. I failed.”

<It’s not just that. We’re all upset about Ari, and that might have gotten you started down this path, but it’s not what I’m talking about. Throwing yourself into training to get over your loss was one thing, but you’ve changed, Keras. Not just the way you’ve been fighting, but the way you’ve been thinking.>

“Grief can do that to people.”

<I know you’re upset about Ari, but there’s more than that going on with you, and I think you know that.>

“Oh, because you know how I think?” I folded my arms.

<Uh, actually, yes. I do. I can literally read your mind.>

“…That’s supposed to be suppressed. You cut me off.”

<I cut you off from reading me. You never did the opposite. I’ve been feeling your emotions this whole time.>

I paused for a minute. I’d known that, of course, but I hadn’t really been thinking about it. “…Oh. Well, then you know I’ve been training. I’ve been working through all this.”

I heard the sound of a sigh. <I wouldn’t exactly call what you’re doing “working through it”. You’ve thrown yourself at a particularly destructive type of training, and it’s changing you.>

I snorted. “Maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe I need to change. Maybe I’ve been holding back for far, far too long. If I didn’t hold myself back so much, then maybe…”

<You would have used the Essence Breaker technique if we hadn’t stopped you. You would have killed Muramasa…and the explosion would have torn the whole area apart. You might have killed us, too, and anyone else in the area.>

I froze. “I…was considering it, but he…I was backed into a corner. And I might not have—”

<I could see it in your mind, Keras. You’d made your choice. He was fast — maybe he would have dodged, maybe he would have hit you first. But you were ready to try to kill him….and everyone else nearby. Is that who you are? Because that is not the Keras that I recognize.>

My hands tightened. “I…shouldn’t have used that technique. You’re right. But…he was trying to kill me. I’ve been holding back for so long, Dawn. I’ve spared so many enemies by fighting without my full strength. If I leave my enemies alive, how many more people are going to die because I took some kind of arbitrary ideological stand?”

<Arbitrary…? Keras, do you remember how you met Reika?>

“Sure, she was in the cave and…”

<And she challenged you to a fight. One where she at least sounded like she was going to try to kill you. If you’d fought her at full strength, one of you wouldn’t be here today.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. “…That’s different.”

<You’re right. This is worse. You’re in a tournament, Keras. No one is supposed to be killing each other, but you were about ready to not only kill him, but everyone else nearby.>

“I…I was defending myself.”

It was a weak excuse, and I knew it.

I’d fallen back on my instincts again, and that instinct had been to destroy my enemy regardless of the consequences.

<And if you were badly hurt, you were supposed to be teleported out of the arena, as a part of the test.>

I snorted. “We both know that’s not something I can rely on. There are too many people involved who would enjoy seeing me dead. I can’t trust anyone.”

I knew that was the wrong thing to say the moment the last words came out of my mouth.

<…Can’t trust, anyone, huh?>

“Dawn, wait. Please, that’s not what I—”

<No, it is what you meant. And it’s how you’ve been behaving lately. But for what it’s worth, I don’t entirely blame you.>

For a moment, neither of us spoke.

When her voice returned, her tone was heart-rending.

Dawn couldn’t cry. Not in the way a human could: she simply didn’t have the form for it. But from the way her words broke and the sound of her voice trembled, I knew that if she had tears, they would have flowed freely.

<I…I’m the one that walked away from you. And I’m sorry for that. I was never really good to you. We were a pair, but I never supported you. I teased you incessantly, and I demanded attention, and I…never gave you anything in return, aside from powers you didn’t really need. You always seemed so strong. Heroic. I didn’t think you ever could even need my help.>

<…Until I walked away.>

I shut my eyes. “I hurt you. I understand why you left. I omitted something critically important, and more than that, I put you at risk when I…”

Something itched at the back of my mind. “…When I lost control. I almost hit you. I could have killed you. How did I forget that so quickly? And now…I almost did it a second time.”

<You’re not yourself right now, Keras. You haven’t been in weeks. It’s not just about Ari’s death. It’s your sword. It’s influencing you more and more with every passing day. You’re changing, and if we don’t do something about it soon, I’m afraid it’s going to be too late.>

I took a breath. “…We?”

<I left because you hurt me, but…Keras, you’ve been hurting, too. You’ve been struggling, and you’ve been fighting all on your own, for too long. I never should have left.>

I sucked in a deep breath. “I almost killed you, Dawn. And if you’re right…and you’re…” I struggled to force myself to think about it objectively. It was…hard to concentrate.

I turned my eyes down to the scabbard, torn to shreds. It was barely functional.

I’d…known that. I’d known it was falling apart, that the Dominion Breaker’s power was bleeding into me, but I’d ignored that. I’d thrown myself into using the sword more, and I’d made the problem worse.

Just how badly compromised was I?  “…I think you’re right. If I’m…being influenced by the sword, then this could get worse. I could hurt you. I could hurt Rei. Maybe you should just…”

<Leave? Really, Keras? You’re having problems, so you want me to run away?>

I winced. “It’s…maybe that’s not fair, but if I ever hurt you badly…” I closed my eyes, taking a shuddering breath. “I…I couldn’t live with myself.”

<Then don’t.> She paused. <I mean, don’t hurt me. Keep living, obviously.>

I kept my eyes tightly shut. It was hard to concentrate. Even in that moment, I wanted to get up, to do something, to…

…To break something, if I’m being honest.

Now that I was thinking about it, I couldn’t remember the last time I hadn’t wanted to break something.

I took another breath. It didn’t help. “You make it sound simple, but it’s not. I…told you what I am. What if this…this…desire…this behavior…what if this is the real me?”

Dawn snorted. <Oh, come on. Don’t be dramatic. Don’t act like you’re the first person who’s ever been mentally influenced by a magical item.>

“It’s more than that.” I felt anger building. “This sword…the Dominion Breaker. It’s part of me, Dawn. I don’t know if I literally am the sword, but…with the scabbard free, and the power flowing into me…I feel good, Dawn. It feels natural. Normal. Maybe using the scabbard was just hiding who I’ve been all along.”

<Keras, with all due respect…>

<That’s absolute nonsense.>

I felt my jaw tighten again. I tried to force myself to be patient and listen. It was harder than it sounded. “…Explain.”

<Even if the sword makes you want to break things, and that feels right, you’re more than that.>

<You’ve spent your entire life building a moral code that you live by — how is that less important than some weird urges you’re getting from a magical item?>

“Maybe this is who I was always supposed to be, and the scabbard was just outside meddling. The gods, or my parents, or whoever, trying to forge me into something that I’m not. Maybe I’m supposed to be…”

<A monster? A killer without remorse?>

“Maybe. Or maybe that’s too extreme, and I’m just supposed to be myself, but with less…restraint. Maybe I’m supposed to find people like Akadi and just obliterate them, so they can never cause any harm again.”

<…You keep saying “supposed to”, like there’s only one right way to be yourself. You can think, Keras. And with that comes the capacity to make choices. You can decide who you want to be.>

“Maybe so, but I know what it feels like when the sword’s power is flowing into me. It feels…right, in a way I’ve never felt before.”

<The sword’s power, or the power the sword is connected to? You’ve told me about your dominions. Using them always has a cost. What if these destructive desires are just the cost for using that dominion? Even if the sword itself is a part of you, the emotions you’re feeling might not be.>

I…didn’t know what to say to that.

I’d searched for years to figure out what the source of my sword’s annihilating aura was. I’d tried to compare it to the Glare King’s powers, or the Executioner attunement, and even Akadi’s own abilities…

…But they weren’t the same thing.

When I’d used Body of Annihilation, had I just been using the power from within the sword itself, or had I drawn upon…something else? A Dominion of Annihilation, or something like it?

I felt like that annihilating power was right with me, just waiting to be used.

…Was that really true, though?

Why had I stopped searching for answers?

Had I given up, or…had I just subconsciously decided that the power was always within the sword?

…And if I had come to that conclusion, was that because of the sword’s influence…? Or worse, the influence of whatever dominion it was connected to, if such a thing existed?

I took another breath.

It was growing clearer and clearer that I was…off. At least, “off” by my normal standards.

I still didn’t feel off, though. Even if there were clearly gaps in how I was thinking, I felt…normal.

And I let Dawn know that. “…I don’t know, Dawn. This just feels…natural to me.”

<Even if those instincts are more “natural”…who cares? Everyone has instincts that they have to control, both for their own benefit and the benefit of people around them. Do you think it’s a good idea to act on every fear you experience?>

I shook my head. “No, of course not. Acting on irrational fears can get people hurt. I get that. But those fears are still a part of me, even if I don’t act on them. And so are other instincts.”

<Sure. But we’re more than just our instincts. When we have an instinctive response to something, we have a choice whether or not we act on that.>

“Sometimes. But sometimes they’re…insidious. Unconscious. And lately, I’ve been…swayed, I think, by these new instincts. When I almost hit you…” I shuddered. “…It’s not like I was trapped in my body by some malevolent entity and there was some brave knightly Keras screaming at the back of my mind to stop. I didn’t even notice something was wrong.”

<…But I did.>

I took a breath. “And I’m glad you did. I’m…really glad you stopped me. I’m sorry that you had to. You shouldn’t have had to. I…I’m sorry, Dawn. I’m…I think I’m a little adrift right now, and I don’t know where I’m going.”

<Then maybe, if you’re adrift, it’s time someone threw you a rope.>

There was a brief pause.

“…I’m in the water in this analogy. How does a rope help?”

<To climb out, obviously.> Dawn sighed.

“…Climb out to what?” I shook my head. “Never mind, the analogy isn’t the important part.” I sighed. “I’m saying that I don’t know if I’m going to be consciously aware that even if I’m trying, I’m not always going to be aware that I’m making choices based on the influence of the sword.”

<Right. I think you’re missing the critical factor I’ve been trying to get across to you for a while now.>

“Which is?”

<Me, Keras. I’m here. You’re not alone.>

“…Oh.” I was silent for a moment, then sucked in another breath. “…You really want to stay with me? Even knowing that I could hurt you without thinking about it?”

<Look, that’s scary, and I admit it. I don’t want to get hurt. I do not enjoy getting hurt. I like the idea of dying even less. But it’s like I told you right after that happened: risks come with the job. And the risk of hurting your friends in battle is always there, too.>

I shuddered. My mind flashed to Arkhen screaming in agony as my aura tore through his arm. “That’s…I…”

<Easy, there. Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring back bad memories. My point was that that could happen with anyone. Collateral damage is awful, but it happens, Keras. Even if I decided I wanted a different wielder, there’s a good chance they could hurt me, too.>

“Maybe, but I’m a higher risk. You’re hard to damage, and I’m one of the few people capable of doing it.”

<Higher risk of hurting me yourself? Maybe, if things remain as they are. But you’re better equipped to help me if I do get hurt, too. Remember what happened with Taer’vys? Do you think an ordinary wielder could have handled that situation?>

I frowned. “That was mostly Rei helping you out, there.”

<No, I don’t think she could have helped by herself. You helped me hang on when I was torn apart. Without you, I think I might have…> Her voice went quiet. <…just faded away.>

“I’m the one who put you in danger there, though. If I wouldn’t have signed up for that match to earn some extra points, we never would have fought Taer’vys.”

<Oh, come on, Keras. Stop looking for excuses to blame yourself. Taer’vys is going to be fighting other people in the tournament — and he’s not the only one out there capable of hurting me, either. As soon as I got hurt, you switched weapons, then rushed the fight — at risk to yourself — to get out of there and treat me as quickly as possible. Not every possible wielder would do that. If I’d been in someone else’s hands, I might have died in that encounter, or any number of others. I’m going to get hurt if I keep fighting, Keras, regardless of who is wielding me. That’s what happens when you fight demigods and monsters from other worlds. Purely from a practical standpoint, you’re better equipped to handle that eventuality than almost anyone. If my physical form is damaged, you have metal sorcery. If my spirit is hurt, you have spirit sorcery.>

She sighed.

<But that’s not even the important part, Keras. I’m not staying with you because it’s the safest choice. I’m not staying with you because I made a promise, even if that’s a larger part. I’m staying with you because I want to, Keras. You can make the choice to say “no” and break our bond if you want to, but don’t make that about me. I know the risks, I accept them, and I’m allowed to make that choice.>

I winced, reaching for her hilt. Slowly, softly, I ran my hand along it. “I want to be with you, too. But I’m still not sure I’m in control. If I’m not, then…”

<Then let me help you. I want to help you. I…I haven’t been the greatest at that so far, and I know it. I’m sorry for that. I’ve…honestly probably put you at risk, too. I’m always teasing you in the middle of fights. I’m not good at taking risks in battle seriously, since I don’t experience things the way you do, and…teasing you is a way of feeling like I have control. I hope you can forgive me for that.>

I smiled softly. “I’ve never really minded your teasing.”

<Good. Because I apologized, but I don’t actually know if I can stop.>

I laughed. “That’s fine. Just…are you sure this is really what you want, Dawn? You could go with Reika, you know. She’d be grumpy about it, but she’d—”

<Reika isn’t my wielder, Keras. Our relationship has never been like that. She’s not comfortable with wielding me, and if I’m being honest, I’m not comfortable with that, either. She’s more important to me than anyone — and yes, that includes you. I’ve known her for my whole life. But she’s not my wielder.>

“Why choose me, then? There are other people that might be better suited. More worthy. Someone out there presumably has those amulets.”

<…Admittedly, I do want to know who has those. I won’t claim I’m entirely over that, but…I’ve realized there’s more to our relationship than that. You may be an Amuletless Alliterator, but you’re my Amuletless Alliterator. And…> She sighed. <I’m only going to say this once, and you’re not allowed to make fun of me for it.>

“…Okay?”

<…You’re my hero, Keras.>

I didn’t know what to say to that, so I…didn’t say anything at all.

After a moment, she steeled herself and elaborated.

<When I was all alone in that crystal, I dreamed for years about someone…anyone…coming to rescue me. A knight in shining armor, a dragon like Rei, a wizard, a bard, a master thief…anyone.>

<But nobody came.>

<Years passed. My childhood passed. My adolescence passed. My teenaged years passed.>

<Nobody came.>

<When you came to that grove, when you woke me…I…I’d lost hope, Keras.>

<I thought I was going to be alone for my entire life. And…I, you know, at some point, I think I must have accepted it. That I was just…going to be alone, and that I was going to be in that rock forever, until whatever spirit within me just withered and died.>

<When you came…I didn’t even believe it at first. I laughed, and I teased you, and I questioned your methods. I ridiculed you for failing to follow the right procedures, and I goaded you into going to look for the amulets…>

<…Because the moment you lifted me from that stone was the best moment of my life, and I couldn’t believe it was real.>

<And maybe, I figured, going to get the amulets…maybe that would have grounded things somehow. Restored some normalcy. If you had the amulets, that meant you were the one, and that…that I could stay with you. That it was real, and I had a wielder, and I…that I didn’t have to be alone.>

<All this time since I’ve been free, I’ve been afraid, Keras. Not of being injured or killed. Sure, I don’t want those things, but that’s not what really scares me.>

<I’ve been afraid of being alone.>

<Abandoned.>

<Worthless.>

<So please, Keras…please…> She let out a shuddering breath. <…It’s okay if I get hurt. It’s…even okay if I die. Just…please…don’t…>

<Don’t ever leave me alone again.>

I pulled Dawn upward, pressing her hilt against my chest, and closed my eyes.

It’s not going to be easy, Dawn. I don’t want to give you false hope.

<It…doesn’t have to be easy. Relationships aren’t easy. We both know that. But when we bound ourselves to each other, we…we swore we’d stay together, right?>

We did, but I told you from the start that I’d have to cut things off if our bond ended up hurting you.

<It’s like I said, Keras…I accept the risks inherent in our partnership. Please, just…honor that choice. I know it isn’t easy. I know you don’t want to hurt me. But Keras…whatever happens…please. I’d rather die in your hands than wither away alone. Promise me you’ll stay with me, Keras. That you’ll keep me close, until our light fades away.>

I pulled her closer.

This is really what you want?

<It is.>

I took a deep breath. I hesitated. I understood what she wanted, but…I didn’t trust myself. If I fell under the sway of the Dominion Breaker’s power again, either suddenly or gradually, I knew that there was a good chance that I’d end up breaking her. Breaking her blade…or breaking her heart.

But she’d made her choice. She’d chosen to trust me, to stay with me, even knowing what the consequences might be.

I clenched my eyes shut. No tears came to warn me of the fate that was written in the words that followed.

I…I promise.

<Until our light fades away.>

Together. Until our light fades away.

CHAPTER XX – REFORGING HOPE

Dawn and I rested together in silence for a while after that. Worries didn’t leave either of our minds, but there were no words for them. Not at first, anyway.

Finally, after what felt like hours, I brushed her hilt softly and admitted something difficult.

We need a plan.

<You’re right.>

If we’re going to stick together, we need to take precautions so that I don’t hurt you.

I heard a sigh. <Is that what you’re worried about? Keras, you need to be cutting down on the whole annihilation thing with or without me being involved.>

Maybe. I still think it’s a tool that I shouldn’t be easily setting aside. It feels right when I’m using it, and if I can master these abilities…I can save so many people. I could be unstoppable.

<You know that’s like, classic “tempted by dark powers” talk, right? At this rate, you’re about two books away from giving villainous exposition to the newer, younger, and cuter hero who replaces you in the narrative.>

I groaned. So, you think I should just give it up, then? Never use the Dominion Breaker and accept that I’m going to lose some fights I might have been able to win if I used it?

<I didn’t say that. As much as I loathe to admit it, that thing is useful. We should be learning how to use it. You just can’t let it be the only tool you reach for when you get into trouble, and you can’t let it control you.>

Easier said than done. I’ve been fighting and losing that battle my entire life.

<Well, sometimes it’s the darkest times that teach a hero an important lesson to turn the tide, right? Like that the hero should listen to their wise and lovely companion more.>

I rolled my eyes. I’m listening.

<Two things. First, you’ve figured out how to channel the power through me, at least a little bit. Maybe…maybe we can learn to do more of that.>

That’s dangerous. We don’t know how much of it you can handle.

<Then, at some point, we try that more in training. I should be able to acclimate to it gradually, like I already have been for metal.>

Maybe…but without the special training facility I was borrowing, we can’t practice the more advanced techniques safely.

<Then we’ll hold off on those for now. You can tell me about what you’ve learned in case we need to try them in an emergency, and we’ll try to find another safe place to practice them someday.>

Easier said than done…but I’m open to the idea. Unfortunately, that doesn’t really solve the current problem.

<Right. That leads me to part two…the scabbard.>

I glanced down. The scabbard was in bad shape. I didn’t know if it was functioning at all. It’s a bandage, not a real solution.

<Yeah, but that bandage seemed to be working pretty well until you tore it. It’s not perfect, but nothing other than me is.>

You’re right. I nodded.

<Of course I am. But, uh, in what respect specifically?>

My thought process seems to shift more as the scabbard takes damage. Fixing it won’t reverse things completely — my annihilation aura has gotten too strong. It’s a temporary solution at best.

But it’ll help keep me from making critical mistakes.

I ran my fingers across her hilt.

Oh, and that other part? You are perfect, and I’m glad to have you with me.

<I…uh…> I got the distinct impression of blushing from the direction of the blade. Then, I heard something like clearing her throat. <Ahem. Going straight for the hilt, huh? Trying to win my affections back with soft words and softer touches?>

Something like that. I laughed. Maybe a little too loudly, since I heard stirring at my feet a moment later.

Reika rolled, falling half-way off the bed. I grabbed her before she slid off. She didn’t seem to notice that part. She just blinked her eyes open, yawned, and then said, “Mmm. Morning.”

“More like afternoon. You had quite a nap.”

“You have your sources of eldritch power, Keras. Fancy spells and fancier swords. Me? I have naps.”

I snorted, then reached down and scratched her behind the ear. She purred a little, then finally stretched and sat up. “I miss anything?”

I glanced down to Dawn, then back to Reika. “Uh, not much.” I grinned. “Except this lovely sword talking about story roles. You been reading her romance novels again?”

“Uh, yeah. They have thousands of books I haven’t read here. Do you have any idea when the last time was that I had access to this many books? Oh, right. Never, that’s when. Let me live, Keras. Let me live.”

I laughed. “Just as long as you don’t let your narrative mentality rub off on Dawn too much.”

<You’re the one doing the rubbing, mister. And, uh, a little to the left? I’ve got this itch…>

“You do not. You don’t have nerves.”

<Okay, rude. And maybe it’s a mental itch.>

“That’s not a thing.”

<It’s definitely a thing.>

We kept chattering.

There was still tension there. Worry. We had wounds that could not be easily healed.

But maybe, just maybe, we were finally ready to heal them together.

***

We finally headed out after that. It wasn’t long before we reached our first stop — Sword Row.

Once there, I went from Enchanter to Enchanter, asking the same question.

“Can you fix this?” I showed them the Dominion Breaker’s scabbard.

Most of them threw a couple detection spells on the scabbard, then outright refused. A couple said they’d be willing to do a more detailed inspection if I was willing to leave the scabbard with them for a week or two.

Three offered to buy the broken scabbard outright, but no one offered an immediate solution.

Finally, when reputable shops failed me, I turned my eyes to one that seemed…less-so. The tiny shop was plastered with advertisements of their services: “crystal divinations”, “spirit healings”, and “fate card readings” among them.

More relevantly, the shop advertised “ancient relic appraisals and sales”.

It looked like an absolute scam. The kind of thing that an unscrupulous fraud would set up to fleece nobles with no sense of how much a relic was truly worth.

…And yet, there I was, walking through the door to a “magnificent” Enchanter’s shop.

The store was small, but packed with goods and curios of all shapes and sizes. Shelves were littered with candles, incense burners, crystals — not all of which looked like they were of the magical variety — and bottles of colorful liquid that could have just as easily contained potions or water with food coloring.

The owner wasn’t immediately in evidence, but I didn’t walk up to ring the bell on the counter immediately. Instead, I moved to inspect the most obvious personal touch in the store — a painting showing what looked like a young, brown-haired mother with a son sitting on her lap. She smiled proudly, but with a twinge of sadness.

I turned at the sound of glass shattering.

When my gaze shifted, I saw an old woman — clearly an older version of the woman depicted in the painting. She looked like a perfectly ordinary Valian woman in her fifties or so with greying hair, a bit of a slouch, and thick glasses etched with runes.

For just an instant, I thought I saw the gleam of distant stars in her eyes.

“Oh, no! Let me help you with that!” Reika rushed past me, going to help the older woman with the bottle she’d dropped.

“Thank you, granddaughter.” The old woman never turned toward Reika. Instead, she regarded me steadily. “I’m afraid the tremor in my hands is worse some days than others.”

Her hands were, in fact, trembling…but I didn’t get the impression it was from age.

I turned to face her more directly. “Do I know you?”

She looked at me for just another moment, then blinked. When her eyes reopened, they were plain grey. “No…I think not. You are too young.”

“But you recognize something about me?”

<She must have been startled by the appearance of a legendary sacred sword in her shop, Keras. Poor old woman has probably never seen majesty in her life.>

I…don’t think that’s it, Dawn.

The older woman’s gaze had shifted to my sword belt, but not to Dawn. “I do, indeed. I’ve always been good at recognizing a problem when I see one.”

I wasn’t sure if I should be offended by her phrasing there. “And fixing them, I hope?”

She cackled. “Some days. Others…” She waved toward the ground, where Reika was steadily sweeping up the broken bottle with a dust pan she’d somehow discovered when I wasn’t looking. “Some days, there’s only broken glass, each piece a flawed fraction of the same image.”

<That isn’t exactly a ringing endorsement for her business.>

I ignored Dawn.

I had the sense that this encounter was far more important than I could have possibly guessed when I’d walked in the door. I gestured to the scabbard. “Do you recognize this?”

She focused on the scabbard, her eyes flashing for an instant, then she took a step back, breathing a sharp breath. “Oh. Oh, no. You shouldn’t be here.”

I tilted my head to the side. “And why is that?”

Her shoulders slumped. “I thought I was long done with all this business. It seems one cannot escape the machinations of the past quite so easily.”

“You had something to do with the scabbard in the past?”

She shook her head. “Not me, precisely. Let’s not discuss that. I need to take a closer look.” Once again, I saw the flash of constellations playing across her irises. “Ah. I understand.” Her eyes slammed shut, but she continued to speak.

“Once, there were many worlds. Once, they held a thousand peoples, who reached among the stars to build mighty nations and forge great works.

And then he returned. An ancient compact he cited, an expiration date for reality itself.

When he spoke, walls fell and cities crumbled.

With his great might, he devoured his brothers and sisters.

Worlds fell. Ruin triumphed. For a time, unopposed.

The makers of a young world, in their hubris, forged an answer:

A sword born with a blade that could rend even fate asunder.

They believed that the mere existence of this weapon would save them, its power so great and terrible that even the world-eater would turn aside rather than face it.

But the sword was too heavy. Not even the gods, with all their might, could lift it.

And so they scratched off piece after piece, trying to lighten the load.

They failed. And one by one, w—they…” She paused, wincing. Reika moved closer, steadying the older woman’s arm. The old woman didn’t seem to notice — she just resumed speaking.

“…They wounded their great enemy, but they failed. He survived.

And still, none could wield the sword. It was passed down, time and time again. Each wielder tried to lighten the burden. Runes. Crystals.

A scabbard.

Every tool was used to cleverly pry the sword from the earth and lift it for a time, but at a fraction of its true strength.

…And in time, each tool snapped, and each wielder was crushed by an unbearable burden.

Not even the mightiest can carry the weight of a world on their shoulders forever. Not without snapping their back.”

Her eyes fluttered open. “…Does that answer your question?”

“…Honestly?” I paused, thinking. “No, not in the slightest. I told most of that same story to Reika when we first met, but in a less poetic fashion.”

The old woman sighed and threw up her hands. “This is why I don’t bother with divination for myself. Useless cryptic garbage. Throw the scabbard on the table and wait an hour, I’ll see what I can do. Then you’ll get out of my shop, forget the name I used, and never return. Deal?”

I took a moment to consider the words of what was, in my best estimation, probably some sort of ancient and deeply unstable deity. “…Deal.”

***

No, Corin, I can’t tell you if that’s someone you’ve met. Draw your own conclusions. A deal is a deal.

***

I spent about half my remaining silver on the scabbard repairs. One simply did not underpay someone capable of working with god-forged artifacts.

I tried to ask her some more questions, but she was masterful at ignoring and deflecting them. I learned precious little from the encounter, but I accomplished my goal, at least.

With my scabbard repaired, I felt…

Different. More in control, certainly. Less violent.

But also…less, in general.

<You okay? Better now? Back to yourself?>

We walked back toward the Study of Iron. I didn’t know how to answer, so I was quiet for a while before I just said it.

I don’t know, Dawn. I don’t know if this is me, or if I’d be more “myself” if I didn’t have the scabbard at all. Maybe by using this tool, I’m making myself too weak to wield the sword properly. Do you think that was the point of the old woman’s story? Were all the people who tried to make tools to help them lift the sword failing because they didn’t do it with their own strength?

<I think that old woman was more cracked than an egg after a trip down a flight of stairs.>

…Maybe.

<And even if there’s a shred of truth to what she said, that’s not the only way to interpret it.>

What do you mean?

<She said ‘Not even the mightiest can carry the weight of all existence on their shoulders forever.’ She didn’t use the word, but there’s an implication that you can read between them.>

Which is?

<Alone, Keras. No one can carry that much weight alone.>

I thought back to the older woman. Her slouched shoulders, her sad smile.

How long had she carried a world of her own before she’d broken?

I doubted I would ever know the answer.

***

With my sanity semi-solved, I refocused on slightly less urgent matters.

The tournament was continuing and, from what Reika told me, I’d made the cut.

“We’ve got one week before finals start. There’s only one round left.”

“Meaning you made it, too?”

She snorted. “Obviously. Who do you think you’re talking to? It’s down to just a few of us, but I don’t have all the names.”

I nodded. “Lia might, we should check with her when we get back. So, all the remaining matches are on one day?’

She shook her head. “Nope. We’ll have a day of one-on-one matches, eliminating half of us. The next day, another set of one-on-ones, I think, but I’m less certain.”

“Makes sense. That’s not a lot of time to recover after a fight, but I suppose that adds another element of strategy. Could be standard tournament brackets if there are eight of us, or something different if there are more or fewer. After that, I assume whoever wins the tournament will fight Edria Song a day later?”

Reika frowned. “Less sure on the date for that. That’s technically a prize, not a part of the tournament itself — they might delay a while to build hype or that sort of thing.”

Or send assassins until the tournament winner is killed, I considered.

<Do you really think she’ll do that? She seems to like you.>

Liking me has never stopped anyone from trying to kill me before.

<…You have lived a horrifying life, haven’t you?>

Welcome to the world of being a professional sword fighter. Population: Me.

***

We made it back to the Study of Iron just a bit later, had some lunch, and went to find Lia.

“I’m pleased to see you’re both back and safe.” Lia clasped her hands in front of her and bowed. “Congratulations on making it this far into the tournament. Grandmother is currently indisposed, but I’m sure she’ll congratulate you directly later as well.”

“Indisposed?” I asked. I wondered if she might have been visiting Meilin, which might have been a good sign about Meilin’s condition, but that wasn’t the answer I got.

“She is, uh, speaking with her…Taer’vys.”

<Grr. What’s he doing here?>

He’s apparently her son.

<…Wait, what?!>

Later.

<No, no, you can’t just drop something like that and…>

I returned Lia’s bow. “Thank you for helping us reach this point in the tournament. We owe you a great deal.”

“Oh, it’s nothing.” In spite of her words, she looked obviously pleased.

“Yeah, thank you! Now, if we could beg for just one more teensy tiny favor…” Reika started.

“I have the names of the remaining contestants, estimated brackets, and some memory crystals for whenever you’re ready.”

Reika hugged her. “Thanks, Lia! You’re the best.”

***

We took a look at the names and the brackets. Lia made it clear that the matchups could change at any time at Edria Song’s discretion, but she didn’t expect them to shift significantly.

Reika versus Alexander Theas.

Haruka Saito versus Phantom Thief Ravenshade.

Walter Crown versus Taer’vys Ironthorn.

Hannah Meiyer versus Satoshi Muramasa.

Shun versus Ishyeal Dawnsglow.

And I would be up against the legendary Green Guardian.

I was a little surprised there were twelve people left rather than eight, since eight was an easier way to divide the brackets for the later rounds. At some point, we’d end up with three people and someone would need to get a “bye” to skip a round, or something like a three-person free-for-all, or a set of matches between each of the three finalists…I wasn’t sure how they’d do it, but I could ask later.

It made more sense when I realized it was exactly six pairs of fighters.

Of course. Cultural traditions take precedence over practicality.

I scanned over the list again, comparing the matches in my mind. “Meilin…she didn’t make it.”

Reika looked down. “She’s going to be devastated.”

We spent a moment in silence. Finally, I changed the subject. “I sincerely don’t know who is going to win these.”

Reika frowned and said. “…Neither do I.”

***

Next, we went to collect our rewards — or, at least, the simplest of them. Points.

It was the last round before the finals, and thus, I was unsurprised it offered much larger scores than before…but the scale still took me off-guard.

Reika walked out of the match with a massive two thousand two hundred extra points.

…And I, having apparently obliterated over a hundred and fifty Buried during my rampage, finished with four thousand six hundred and eighty additional points.

In spite of our large earnings, Reika looked a little bit dejected. I understood why immediately and worked to solve it.

“I’d like to spend some points, please,” I explained at the counter.

First, I spent about a hundred points getting Feather Light repaired. They also returned the bracer that I’d shapeshifted and thrown during the match, since I hadn’t retrieved it.

(Oops.)

Then, with six thousand six hundred and fifty-two points remaining, I made another transaction. “I’d like to transfer my remaining points to Reika here.” I jerked a thumb at her.

Reika’s eyes widened. “What? No! You…what, why?”

“The ten-thousand-point mystery prize, obviously.” I grinned at her. “Did you think I forgot?”

“Keras…” Her eyes welled up.

<Quick, you’ve struck her critical weakness for shiny things! Now, for maximum damage, use the surprise kiss technique!>

Nope, definitely not doing that.

<But…but…dramatic kiss, Keras!>

Definitely not.

I transferred my points (with the usual percentage cut off as a transaction fee, of course). And with our points combined…

Reika bought the mystery prize.

“Congratulations, Miss Dawn. If you’ll wait just a moment…”

It took me a moment to remember that Reika had registered her name as “Reika Dawn” for the tournament. That was still a little confusing, but I supposed it made her less suspicious? Probably?

Either way, the attendant returned with…an envelope. Just an envelope.

She handed it to Reika, who opened it carefully and eagerly, to find a paper card.

It read:

IOU one attunement.

<3,

Anabelle Farren

I think Reika nearly fainted.

***

“So…how exactly do we cash this in?” I asked at the counter.

“I’m told that you’ll have to give it to Miss Farren directly. She’ll be at the winner’s banquet, and I’d advise you to speak to her there. Our sincere apologies for the inconvenience. Miss Farren donated the prize but she was…vague about how it was to be delivered.”

Reika waved a hand dismissively. “It’ll be fine. I’ll see her at the party. Which is…when, again, exactly?”

“Forgive me!” The attendant bowed and looked pained. “You both should have been given your invitations already but we’ve been, um, busy. It’s in four days, at Archduchess Jing’s manor in the Royal Retreat. Please allow me to go find your invitations!”

We waited a bit, got our invitations, and asked one more question.

“I believe we’re also due a trip to the royal vault?” I asked.

“Yes. Let me see…based on your point scores, you’re both scheduled for the day before the winner’s banquet at ten to eleven bells. You’ll be given a single token on your visit to exchange for the prize of your choice.”

Interesting. That means that other people might get in there and get some of the other prizes before we can, if they scored higher. Similarly, it means we might have a shot before some of the other finalists.

I nodded to the attendant. “Thanks, I appreciate the information.”

We headed back to the Study of Iron. Reika was beaming. “An attunement, Keras! Can you believe it? I get an attunement!’

I winced. “An artificial attunement, presumably, from what we’ve heard about Farren Labs.”

“Sure. Doesn’t matter to me, as long as it works.”

“And about that…”

She nodded. “I know, I know. Dragon. Might not work properly. Don’t stress, we’ll figure it out.”

I hoped she was right.

***

When we made it back to the Study of Iron, Reika asked me to follow her back to her room. Then, she marched over to her bed, reached underneath it, and slipped a box out.

“So, I was going to wait until just before the final round, but since you got me another thing and you keep getting me things and I feel awful, I’m giving it to you early.” Reika beamed at me. “Behold, your present!”

She lifted the box and shoved it my way. It was wrapped in silver paper, which was a nice touch. I ripped the paper off.

<Oh, goddess above, Keras! You could just unwrap it and reuse the paper like a normal person!>

Can’t talk, obliterating wrapping.

I opened the box.

Inside the box was a pitch-black belt with gleaming red runes on the surface. The runes were eye-catching, but less so than the belt’s more unique feature: several pieces of metal attached to it at regular intervals, each of which looked like a tiny sword. Each sword was unique in appearance, and as I inspected them, I recognized them immediately. They were tiny replicas of swords in my possession — a miniature Dawnbringer, Dominion Breaker, Pale Crescent, and Feather Light — plus miniatures of each of the other Six Sacred Swords that weren’t already in my possession.

I liked it immediately, just purely in terms of style, but seeing the runes on the belt I knew it was more than a fashion statement. I lifted it to take a closer look, then realized I’d seen something similar before, only briefly. “Hannah was wearing something like this, but less detailed. Is this…?”

“My third-place survival reward from the tournament! Except with some special upgrades. You like?”

“I love it.” I immediately took my ratty old belt off and began to slip my scabbards onto the new one. “How’s it work?”

“See the little tiny swordies? Try pressing one of your swords against one of them.”

“In the scabbard or out?”

“Doesn’t matter, but out is probably better.”

I nodded, picking up Feather Light and pressing it against the matching miniature on the belt. A moment later, the Feather Light vanished, then the tiny replica took on a soft glow.

<Hahahaha! Take that, inferior light sword!>

I laughed. “As far as schemes to eliminate your rivals go, this one seems a little lacking.” I glanced at the miniature for another moment, then back at Reika. “Ah. I get it. Extra-dimensional spaces, like one of those dimensional bags, right?”

“Yep.” Reika grinned. “Just touch the symbol and either send in a bit of mana or say the name of the weapon to call it back out.”

“I’m…not sure I have any mana that wouldn’t damage it. I don’t use grey mana like Kaldwyn’s sorcerers do.” I frowned. “I’ll have to see if I can get it to work with one of my safer essence types. Either way, the verbal activation method should work. Wait. Can the belt only store one specific weapon in each symbol?”

“Nah, but the voice activation corresponds to the name of the miniature. So if you stored Feather Light in the Pale Crescent miniature, you’d still say ‘Pale Crescent’ to get it out. Might be a good way to trick your opponents, I guess.”

I nodded. “Where does the item come back out?”

“Floats a foot or so in front of the miniature in unoccupied space. It also floats for a few seconds so you can grab it.”

“Huh.” I put my finger on the symbol. “Feather Light.”

The sword reappeared in mid-air, just as described. I snatched it out of the air.

<My ancient enemy reappears.>

I chuckled. “I could get used to this.”

Reika clasped her hands together. “I thought you could! It seemed perfect for you, except the default version was too generic.”

“That’s why you were hiding it? You got it customized for me?” I took a breath. “…Thanks, Reika.”

“Wasn’t my idea. Sure, I realized the belt was for you as soon as I saw it, which is why I shut the box and kept it a secret. But the upgrades were Dawn’s idea.”

“Really?” I glanced down at Dawn. “You’re always complaining about me cheating on you with other swords, isn’t this counterproductive?”

<Please, Keras. I’m far too perfect to be capable of something as low as jealousy. Please consider this gift a sign of support for your plans to build a sword harem.>

“I am not building a sword harem, Dawn.”

<Not with that attitude, you won’t.>

I sighed. “Be serious for a second, Dawn. Are you actually okay with me collecting more swords and using them?”

<Ugh. Keras, I might have some minor self-esteem issues to work through, but I’ve known the plan was to collect the other sacred swords from the start. It was a little jarring when you started using the Pale Crescent, but I get it. Different weapons for different situations. Just…don’t forget about me, okay?>

I rested a hand on her hilt. “How could I ever forget someone as powerful, beautiful, and malevolent as you?”

<I know what you’re doing, but keep doing it anyway.>

“You two are adorable.” Reika laughed.

“I know. Thanks again for the gift, Reika. And you, too, Dawn. I have a feeling I’m going to get some great use out of this.”

“You’re welcome. And I figured you would. Sadly, you won’t ever get to use the one that looks like Diamantine.”

I shot Reika a side-eyed look. “This is where you tell me ‘because I’m going to win the tournament’, right?”

“You bet.” She pounded her fists together.

“You might have a harder time than you think.”

“Oh? Why’s that?”

“Because I’ve got Dawn on my side. And I’m not the only one getting a gift today.”

***

<What’s my present? Tell me, tell me, tell me!>

Dawn wouldn’t stop talking after I told her I was getting her a gift, but I didn’t mind. I was glad she was excited, and I’d been plotting this one for a while. I was fortunate that the opportunity had fallen into my lap — or, really, tried to separate my lap from the rest of me. Same difference.

Unfortunately, we had to wait a day for my plans to come to fruition. In the meantime, I practiced with my new Belt of Swords — yes, that was the actual name for it — and got a better idea of how it worked. In spite of my initial reluctance, I found that I was able to activate the belt simply by pushing some enhancement essence into it. By using enhancement essence, I was able to reduce the risk of damaging the belt, although I hoped to stick with using the verbal commands method to activate it when I wasn’t in the middle of a fight.

Most importantly, it let me make use of a new trick — keeping the Pale Crescent stored while it was already full-size. If I never sheathed it, it never lost the stored mana and reverted to its weakest state.

“Dawn, is it safe to store you in one of these?”

<Uh, yeah, Reika already tried it. It does feel kind of like a cold and endless void in there, though, so try not to do it too often?>

“That seems reasonable.”

I planned to keep Dawn out anyway, both because it was more comfortable for both of us and purely for practical purposes. She could detect and deflect attacks I couldn’t sense, and as long as she was with me, we’d gradually get stronger.

Our bond was fully functional again, and although I still sensed some nervousness on Dawn’s part, we were both happy to be reunited. I hoped it would last.

The next day, we paid another visit to an obscure shop. Not one on Sword Row, but rather a familiar merchant with his own store just outside of the Royal Retreat.

“Ah, Keras my friend!” Jelani slapped me on the shoulder. “You are back so soon! And I see you’ve brought another great warrior with you. Reika, yes? Would you happen to be interested in purchasing some excellent information on the next match? Purely legal, of course.”

“We’re fine, Jelani. I’m just here to pick up the package. Is it ready?”

“You know, under ordinary circumstances, things of this level of complexity take a good deal of time, and…”

“But you figured it out? It was doable?”

<Aaaah, I can’t stand the anticipation, tell me what it is!>

Just one more minute, Dawn.

<Mmmm.>

“Yes, yes. Of course, there were some unanticipated difficulties in the process…”

I tossed him a bag containing another five hundred silver, which he deftly caught, weighed in one hand, and nodded. “…But such problems were easily overcome by one of my talents. Wait here but a moment.”

<Aaaah! I need to know, Keras!>

I grinned and waited.

Jelani returned just a moment later, then handed me a small, ornate box. “Would you care to try it here? I have, of course, tested it with inferior products, but this…I admit, I would like to see it.”

I gave him a considering look. “If my lady wishes it.”

“Ah, of course.” Jelani nodded to Reika, thinking I meant her.

<Just open the darn thing!>

Reika, playing along, nudged me. “Open it, Keras!”

“Right away.” I opened the box, revealing what looked like a hollowed-out frame for the hilt of a sword with a pommel jewel still attached and several runes gleaming on the surface.

<…I’m confused, Keras. While I’m all for you murdering my enemies, hollowing another sword out and giving it to me as a trophy seems weirdly morbid, even by your standards.>

…Wait, how am I morbid?

<I’d tell you to ask the rocks that, but you can’t. They’re all gone, now. Slaughtered. Some days, I can still hear their screams.>

You’re right, the gift is in poor taste. Forgive me, I’ll destroy it immediately.

<Aah! I still want the present! I just…also don’t understand the present!>

I lifted the object out of the box. “It’s a frame,” I explained. “A piece of the animated sword I picked up in the last round of the tournament.”

“Wait, that thing was part of an animated sword? Did you kill a sword, Keras?”

“Animated, not sentient.” I shook my head. “Believe me, I checked. So did Jelani.”

“Hah! Sentient swords. Such things are true rarities, yes? This one simply had an enchantment to attack the nearest source of life it detected, with some exceptions. A few pre-built designated angles of attack, no intelligence behind them.”

“Simply?” Reika raised an eyebrow. “That still sounds pretty sophisticated.”

“For an ordinary Enchanter, yes. For me? Simple. Now, adapting it to this masterwork…that was a work worthy of my attention.”

<Wait. A frame. From an animated sword…?> Dawn gasped. <No. You didn’t.>

I grinned, then flipped a latch on the frame to open it. Then, I handed the empty box to Reika, reached down, and attached the frame to Dawn’s hilt.

When I drew Dawn, I spoke a word. “Float.”

Then I released her and heard a gasp in my mind as Dawn floated in mid-air.

“Wonderful! It works!” Jelani clapped his hands. “Not that there was any doubt, of course.” He coughed politely.

“And the other commands I asked for?”

“I wrote you a list. One moment.” Jelani moved back to a back room.

Reika stared at the floating Dawnbringer, a strangely contemplative look on her face, then turned to look at some of the other items on display at the shop. That was so obviously evasive that I knew something was up, but it wasn’t the right time to ask.

<This…Keras, I can feel the other runes in the metal. I can feel the crystal.>

Can you use them?

<I…hold on. Let’s see.>

Dawn dropped like a rock. My hand shot out, quick as lightning, and grabbed her blade before she hit the ground.

<I…uh…meant to do that?>

Obviously, you wanted me to rescue you.

<Right…Hah, hah! That’s it. My hero.>

You bet. I flipped her back around. Let’s wait until we’re out of Jelani’s sight before we try that again. I don’t want him to get suspicious.

<…I’ll spend some time just trying to figure these out.>

Dawn went quiet. Reika continued to look conflicted, but said nothing.

Jelani returned a few moments later with a list, then I thanked him, ignored his attempts to extort even more money out of me, then left the shop. I sheathed Dawn for the moment, rather than walking around with her drawn in the street, and headed back toward the Study of Iron.

I tucked the list away in my pouch, but I didn’t think I’d need it. The voice commands were misdirection.

The real value was, as Dawn had already guessed, all about who I’d attached the frame to.

<I…think I’ve got it!>

Dawn’s scabbard flipped over, smacking me in the chest, then fell back down.

<Sorry, sorry! Maybe I could…>

The sword twisted, tightening my belt. I bent double.

<Eep! I’ll just…>

Dawn settled back down into her normal position on my waist. I rubbed at my chest. She hadn’t actually hurt me, but it stung a little.

<I, uh…think this might take some getting used to.>

Many good things do.

<…Yeah. I guess they do.>

We kept walking in silence for a while after that. Reika didn’t speak another word the entire way home.

***

Given my lingering feelings of failure about Ari, I wasn’t going to let an obvious indication that something was amiss with Reika slide for too long.

That night, I waited for Dawn to fall asleep, then went and knocked on Reika’s door. “It’s Keras.”

“Oh, hey, Keras. Come in, I guess.”

I found her curled up in her blankets with a book. That wasn’t unusual, but her expression was downcast. I had a feeling I’d figured out why. “You don’t approve of my gift for Dawn?”

“I…” She glanced aside. “It’s not that obvious, is it?”

“Yep. And if it’s that obvious to me…”

“Dawn has to know, too.” She winced. “Resh. I’m sorry. I just…I want to be happy for her. I can feel how happy she is. But Keras, it isn’t right.”

I raised an eyebrow. “It isn’t…oh. Is it forbidden to modify a sacred sword or something?”

“Sacred swords can be improved at the elemental temple’s forges, gaining power through the blessings of the temple. But that’s the only way you’re supposed to change them, Keras.”

“I’m not changing her.” I gestured down to Dawn’s hilt. She was asleep, but still at my side. “It’s just an accessory. Kind of like putting her in a scabbard. That doesn’t change her, does it? I can just unsheathe her later.”

Reika shook her head. “I think it’s more like a bayonet. It’s an attachment, more than an accessory.”

I frowned. “I’m going to be honest, I’m not sure I know what a bayonet is.”

“It’s like a little knife you put on the end of the gun.”

“There are gun-knives? Wait, are there gun-swords, too?”

“Keras, I need you to focus.”

“Right, sorry.” I sighed. “I know this upsets you, but…”

“I get it, I get it. It makes Dawn happy, and that’s what’s important. I’ll…try to calm down. But in the future, maybe ask me before you do something like this?”

I considered that, then shook my head. “Respectfully…no.”

She blinked. “What?”

“No. You’re her guardian, and I respect that. But you don’t own her. Neither do I. Dawn can make her own decisions about if she wants to wear accessories, or attachments, or have permanent modifications from outside of the temples. She’s a person. This is her call.”

“I…” Reika shuddered. “I…want to agree with that. I feel like I should agree with that. But it’s…just not what I was taught.”

“I know.” I paused. “Can I sit down?”

“Please.” She gestured at the bed, and I moved to sit next to her.

“You mean a lot to me, you know. And, I don’t mean to speak for her, but it’s obvious you mean an awful lot to Dawn, too.”

Reika hugged her own knees beneath the blankets. “I know. I just…sometimes, I wonder if I’m just getting in the way.”

“You…do remember that you saved my life like two days ago, right?”

She cracked a smile. “You prolly would have killed him first.”

“Not really better, as far as I’m concerned.”

“I’m…not sure I’m ever going to understand that philosophy.”

I nodded. “And I’m not sure I’m ever going to understand everything you believe in, either.”

We were silent for a little while.

Finally, Reika looked up at me and spoke. “…Can we still be…whatever we are, even if we don’t agree on important things, Keras?”

I smiled, then reached out and cupped her cheek, turning her face to meet mine. “Reika, I hear you’ve read a few books.”

“Maybe one or two.” She tried and failed to smile.

“Do many of those books involve friends, companions, or lovers, who agree about absolutely everything?”

“…Only the really boring ones.”

I leaned down and rested my forehead against her own. “We’re not boring, are we?”

“…No.” She paused, then added more firmly. “I don’t think we are.”

“Good.” I smiled, tilted my head up, and kissed her on the forehead. “Then I think we’ll be just fine.”

CHAPTER XXI – ARTIFACT AQUISITION

Reika and I slept until late the next morning. I blame both emotional and physical exhaustion.

When I extracted myself from her sheets in the morning, my shoulder was finally feeling more or less functional again.

The first thing we did was go to visit Meilin.

Reika was on the guest list to go inside…

I wasn’t.

She gave me an apologetic look, mentioned that she’d give Meilin my best wishes, and then headed inside.

Still feeling awful, I headed back to the Study of Iron.

<Don’t be so glum. She probably just had a limited number of people she could list and Reika is…>

Yeah, maybe. Or maybe she’s angry at me. It’s my fault for getting her hurt.

<Don’t be dramatic. That’s my job. She got hurt in a tournament, Keras. She made her own choices. You aren’t responsible for that.>

If I’d just treated the challenge normally, we wouldn’t have ended up fighting against a group like that in the first place.

<From what you told me, the group wasn’t even the problem. That Muramasa guy took a cheap shot.>

…That’s true, but…

<Even if you weren’t there at all, and hypothetically Meilin made it to the next round, she’d still have to fight deadly opponents later. Maybe Muramasa himself. And if circumstances were different, he might have hurt her even more badly. We don’t know. It’s a fighting tournament, Keras. You can’t possibly hold yourself responsible for combatants getting hurt, even if they happened to be helping you at the time.>

My shoulder slumped. I tried to internalize that, but after what happened to Ari, it was hard not to see this as another instance of the same thing.

If I was stronger, if I hadn’t let my guard down…

<Maybe. So, train, if you want to get stronger. But there are always going to be failures, Keras. That’s just how the world works.>

I frowned. When did you get so insightful?

<Do I have to remind you about my three famous characteristics?>

Those are supposed to be for your wielder, not you.

<Well, since you’ve been dealing with such a lack of that one lately, someone has to help.>

…Thanks, Dawn. I took a breath. I didn’t feel much better, in truth, but she was right.

Just blaming myself wasn’t getting anywhere. If I wanted to prevent the same things from happening again…

Well, it was time to get back to training.

…Maybe in a slightly lighter-than-usual fashion. I could move my arm a little, but any real fighting practice was still a terrible idea. Instead, I focused on a different type of tournament preparation: strategy.

We spent the day discussing the other combatants, both with each other and the rest of the residents of the Study of Iron. Later in the day, Iron finally pulled us all together for a talk.

“First of all, I’m sure you’re all eager to hear about Meilin,” Grandmother began. I felt my chest tighten in anticipation.

“She is still in recovery, and likely will be for some time. We expect her to be released later in the week, but she will need to be walking with a cane for at least the next few days. Please do not draw attention to her failure. She is already doing quite enough of that herself.”

“Can I visit her?” I asked.

“You cannot. You should avoid speaking to her at all until she approaches you.” Iron turned to the rest of the people present. “Walter, your slot is tomorrow. Fai, the day after. After that, we’ll see if she’s ready to come home. If not, we will continue a rotation.”

We discussed that a little longer, then finally, Iron changed the subject. “This week, we will focus our training on simulating combat against your next opponents. Walter, you will play the role of Alexander Theas for matches against Reika.”

“Makes sense.” Walter nodded. “I can fake the Shaper stuff pretty well with all my gear.”

Grandmother turned to me, a strangely somber expression on her face. “Keras, you’ll simulate…Walter’s opponent…for him.”

Walter’s opponent…? Why isn’t she…?

Oh, no. Taer’vys. Walter is fighting Taer’vys, isn’t he?

It wasn’t until that moment that I considered exactly how significant that match had to be to her. Her student was fighting her son. I still didn’t know what had happened in her conversation with Taer’vys, but if she wasn’t comfortable saying his name, obviously things were still awkward. “Sure, I can do that,” I replied after a moment of hesitation.

“Excellent. As for playing the part of the Green Guardian, you’re going to have to fight me.”

I blinked. “What?”

“You heard me. For the next few days, you’ll be testing your skills against me.” Grandmother Iron grinned, revealing surprisingly perfect teeth for her age. “Try not to embarrass yourself.”

***

The next day, we got started with the new training routine. As instructed, I tried not to embarrass myself while sparring with Grandmother Iron.

I failed. As it turns out, a gaping hole in my shoulder takes more than a couple days to heal properly, even with potions, a freshly-washed shadeweave tunic, and external healing help.

But she wasn’t going to take any excuses.

“Dodge!”

Grandmother Iron vanished, reappearing right behind me and calling a handful of stone spikes in my direction.

I jumped aside, only to hear a ‘heh’ as the ground liquified before I landed, then solidified around my legs. That wouldn’t have been much of a problem, but the spikes also changed direction in mid-air. I smashed those down with a quick series of swings, then refocused on shaping the ground to escape.

I was getting faster at that. Much faster than when I’d arrived at the tournament.

But not fast enough to escape the crushing force of the stone pillar that had appeared in the air above me.

Body of Stone.

I caught the massive pillar in one hand before it could smash me to a pulp, then sliced it in half. As the halves fell apart, another hail of projectiles flew at me from all directions.

I still hadn’t quite managed to slip free from the partially-softened ground.

Stop.

The projectiles froze in mid-air.

…Well, most of them did.

A couple slipped through my mediocre stone shaping effort and slammed into me. They didn’t cause any harm. With Body of Stone active, I was too tough for random stone projectiles do to anything significant.

“Reset!” Iron yelled, then hobbled back to her starting location.

I groaned, finished reshaping the ground around my legs, and pulled myself back out to the solid floor nearby. Then, after wiping myself off, I returned to my own starting position back at the center of the arena.

Without warning, the broken remains of the pillar shot at me from behind.

“Hey!”

I reacted on instinct, shaping the gigantic stone pillar fragments around me and toward my opponent.

They exploded in mid-air before reaching her. “Better.” She nodded.

“You didn’t tell me the fight was starting.” I grumbled.

Iron gave me a hard look with her one remaining eye. “Neither did the ones who took everything from me.”

“…Fair point.” I bowed my head.

“You must be ready for anything in the days ahead, Wielder of Dawnbringer.” She closed her eye. “Your enemies most certainly will be.”

***

The next morning came and went in relative calm. I continued training with Iron. She couldn’t accurately copy the Green Guardian’s techniques perfectly — she had access to earth magic, not the crystal magic that the Green Guardian used — but it was still a better approximation than I expected.

…And she probably had ulterior motives for training me against stone sorcery. Every bit of practice I had with stone shaping would be useful against my final opponent…assuming I could make it that far.

Toward the end of the practice session, she surprised me by demonstrating a rudimentary petrification spell. She must have learned it in the brief period of time since we’d last discussed the idea, or she’d been hiding it before.

It was easy to forget that other people could learn new tricks, and often rapidly. I’d underestimated her.

Her petrification spell wasn’t anywhere near as effective as Diamantine’s, but it worked, and it gave me another chance to practice trying to counter petrification without using the amulet or Body of Stone as a counter. That was useful, too.

After that, I continued doing my best to demonstrate Taer’vys’ capabilities for Walter so he could prepare to counter them.

Even with that practice, I wasn’t sure I liked either of our odds.

Having fought both Walter and Taer’vys on multiple occasions, I considered them to be at similar levels of skill. Walter had far more magical items to play with, and probably more raw power with his attunement abilities…but Taer’vys was absolutely devious.

I had no idea what sorts of tricks he was hiding. I wasn’t sure even Taer’vys knew all of Taer’vys’ secrets.

As for my fight with the Green Guardian…I was just hoping I didn’t fall into bad habits.

My best counter to his techniques was still my annihilation aura, and without it…well, time would tell if I had any chance at all.

***

In the evening of the third day after the semi-finals, Reika and I headed to the Royal Retreat. It was our turn to visit the Royal Vault, but I wasn’t quite sure what exactly that would entail. Presumably, the most valuable possessions of the royal family would be held at the palace in the capital city, not on Arena Island. I wasn’t sure if that meant we’d be walking through some kind of portal to the capital or if they simply had a vault on the island itself.

It turned out to be a mix of both.

The Royal Vault was a small building made of the same black stone I’d seen in use in a handful of locations like the Lost Halls. I presumed that was a security measure.

A group of guards met us at the entrance, then checked our identity sigils and passes to enter the facility. “You’re expected. Keep your hands away from your weapons at all times while inside the facility. You have been given an unexpected honor and the traditional guide has been replaced. Do not do anything to cause offense.”

I raised an eyebrow at that last remark, but said nothing.

The guards opened the door, allowing us to walk through.

When we walked through the doors, we found ourselves in a stark white three-story chamber that was far larger than the outside of the building could have allowed. Structurally, it reminded me of a library, with lines of shelves and stairways up to the higher levels. Some of those items were books, but there were a truly staggering variety of things on display, both on the shelves and attached to walls, sitting in cases of glass or crystal, or in rare cases, simply floating in mid-air.

I didn’t have much of a chance to examine things immediately, however, because I was too distracted by the presence of our “guide”.

Crown Princess Edria Song stood not far from the entrance, Diamantine sitting sheathed on her left hip. When she noticed us approaching, she looked a little startled, then hastily tucked away a book she’d been reading. “Ah. You’ve arrived. Good.”

Reika, distracted by something more important than propriety, closed the gap between them in an instant. “Ooh! Is that the latest Trials of Cold Iron book? I love those!”

Edria Song tilted her head to the side, looking as if she was examining a strange insect. “Truly? You do not find it…unbecoming to read such things?”

“What? No! Why would I?”

The crown princess continued to stare at Reika blankly. “They are fantastical tales. While there are political elements that might redeem the books, they are woefully inaccurate, and my tutors believe that I distract myself from more important studies when reading such…I believe the phrase that Minister Cho used was ‘lurid and disgusting trash unworthy of the eyes of a monarch’.”

Reika laughed. “Obviously the book can’t be that inaccurate, because that sounds just like something Great Priest Conway would say.”

Edria Song blinked. “That…may not be precisely inaccurate. I had not previously considered the comparison between Minister Cho and…oh my, that is an amusing image.”

“Hah! I’ll bet. Wait. Did you replace our guide so you could be sneaky and read a fantasy book?”

The Crown Princess Edria Song, heiress to the most powerful nation on the continent of Kaldwyn, nervously glanced from side-to-side. “…Obviously one of my stature could never have such base motivations. Clearly, I am here to acknowledge my fellow wielder and his companion’s great accomplishments in reaching the final tournament round, and to provide personal guidance in selecting their single gift from the vault. I…couldn’t possibly…”

“Oh, no, sweetie! Hold on.” Reika vanished briefly, then returned with a chair. “Sit. Read. Unfortunately, Keras and I were very rude and took an extremely long time browsing the vault.” She gave the Crown Princess a wink.

“That’s…” Edria Song straightened. “I must perform my role as your guide and explain the rules for this facility.”

Reika smiled. “’Kay, but afterward you just sit and read your book. We’ll buy you some time.”

The crown princess still looked flustered, but offered a curt nod. “…Very well. Now, the facility.” She made a wide gesture to encompass the building. “The Royal Vault holds many priceless artifacts that have been collected by the Edrian royal family over the course of centuries. As a result of your truly outstanding performance in the tournament, you have been permitted to take any one object out of the vault of your choosing.”

“Can we try things out before we choose?” Reika asked.

“An excellent question. If you’d like to remove any item from the case to test it, you must ask me first. I have a list of which items can be removed and which cannot be. For example, most paintings must be transported carefully, and thus cannot be removed from their cases unless you select one as your prize.”

“That makes sense! Anything else we need to know?”

Edria Song nodded. “Even if you are allowed to remove a specific object, there may be specific procedures necessary to utilize it safely. We have a test area located nearby. I will provide further instructions if needed.”

“Sounds reasonable.” I nodded. “That it?”

“That is all for now, Wielder of Dawnbringer. You may now choose whatever single item interests you most.”

<So, I’m not jealous or anything, but let’s maybe pass on the swords unless you really need one.>

No promises, more swords would be…wait. Hold on.

<Oh no, I don’t like it when you get ideas.>

“I can choose any one item in this vault?” I asked.

Edria Song nodded gravely. “Yes. Anything here may be yours.”

“Got it.” I waved at her sword belt. “I choose Diamantine.”

Reika and Edria Song both stared at me in silence.

<Oh, wow. Am I going to have to call you Keras the trickster, Stealer of Sacred Swords?>

Then Edria Song raised a hand to cover her face and made a silent, shuddering laugh. “Keras…Selyrian. Once again you have vexed me with your impertinence.” When she lowered her hand, the thin edge of a strained smile flashed across her face. “No, you obviously may not claim Diamantine as your prize, nor anything else I am wearing.”

“Even if I offered you this?” I pulled the token she’d given me out of my bag.

“That is…” Her expression sank. “No. I cannot. Diamantine can only be given out to the winner of the tournament as a whole, and even then, only if they defeat me in single combat.” She spoke again, more quietly. “Do you truly wish to avoid fighting me so badly?”

“Oh, no.” I raised my hands in a warding gesture. “Honestly, I’d love to fight you even if I had the sword. But as a fighter, I’ve always had a knack of aiming for weak spots. And those aren’t just physical: rules, customs…they all have gaps. When I see one…” I smirked. “I can’t help but take a swing and see if it connects.”

Her expression seemed to lighten a bit at that. “One might consider your habit dangerous.”

“You have no idea.” Reika sighed. “I’m constantly having to get him out of trouble. Sometimes he sees a shiny thing and has to throw an absurdly dangerous technique as soon as he sees it.”

“That happened like one time!”

<The mournful spirits of many rocks say otherwise.>

I groaned. “Anyway, I hope I didn’t offend you by asking.”

“Not at all. As you said, a warrior has the responsibility to strike at vulnerabilities. I,” Edria Song said mournfully, “should not have shown you my throat.”

“Oh, honey. Don’t feel bad. He’s just like this.” Reika reached out to pat Edria Song on the shoulder, then barely managed to stop herself when the Crown Princess’ gaze shifted to the encroaching hand.

“One must not touch the royal person without permission.” Edria Song intoned, mechanically. “It seems Master Selyrian is not the only one with dangerous habits.”

“…I won’t tell the royal guard about the book if you won’t tell them about my patting?” Reika offered.

“…Very well, that is acceptable.” Edria Song regarded Reika quietly for a moment, then added, “You may now resume patting me.”

I blinked in incomprehension at the exchange that just occurred.

<So…you going to flirt with the princess all day, or are we going to go look at some loot?>

“Right, I’m supposed to be browsing the vault, aren’t I?” I tucked Edria Song’s token away, noting that she had a hint of disappointment when it vanished from her sight. “If you’re done patting the crown princess, let’s go take a look around.”

“I’m not.” Reika grinned. “Give us a minute. I’ll catch up.”

***

My search through the Royal Vault was a bit less focused than my search of the Arena Vault had been. Sure, I still wanted more swords — I was never going to not want more swords — but I wanted to make sure I paid close attention to anything that might have extreme long-term value, regardless of the type of item.

<Bold of you to assume anything could be more valuable than a sword.>

I know, it seems unlikely to me, too. You did ask me not to pick up any other swords, though, and I’m going to try to make an effort.

<…Thanks.>

Aside from my general interest in magic swords, something was tugging at my mind from the moment I walked in. I had an idea of what it was, but I decided to tour the place before heading to that location on the third floor. If I went straight to what I suspected I was sensing, I thought I might be too distracted to look at anything else.

The first floor was largely dedicated to what I’d call “miscellaneous” magical items, whereas the second floor primarily housed pieces of armor, and the third floor was weaponry.

Some of the items were purely mundane — famous paintings by people I’d never heard of, scrolls of calligraphy by renowned poets, that sort of thing. I assumed they were worth tremendous amounts of money or prestige, but I didn’t care much for them.

I did find several things of practical value, however, beginning with a fascinating circlet.

Crown of the First Emperor

A priceless relic once worn by the first emperor of Edria, this crown was once a part of the imperial regalia before being replaced by a crown fashioned for the imperial family by Selys herself. It possesses ancient enchantments that have proven thus far impossible to replicate with modern enchanting processes, including permanent cognitive acceleration and near-immunity to any form of mental compulsion.

I gawked at the crown. I’d known that this place was called the Royal Vault, but…a crown worn by the first emperor of the nation? That was incredibly valuable, even by my standards. Assuming it was true, of course, and not just a story.

Even if the tale of the item’s origin wasn’t true, though, the powers it provided…mental acceleration and near-immunity to mind-control…

<I’m not sure if that’s going to help you with the Dominion Breaker. It’s a part of you, that’s not exactly mind-control.>

I know. But light mana and spirit mana do help me focus. Maybe this would at least help.

<Maybe. But what happens when you take it off? Couldn’t that hit you harder than ever?>

Fair point, but if I wear the item long enough, I might acclimate to whatever mana it’s using to provide those effects.

<True, but you don’t acclimate to all items with equal ease. And we don’t know if this one would even help at all.>

Maybe I could try it on?

<I somewhat doubt that.>

I checked with Edria Song. She was still a bit distracted by Reika. In spite of that, she assured me that I could not, in fact, try on the crown of an ancient Edrian emperor.

Oh well. Let’s see what else they’ve got.

I continued my search, passing by all sorts of curios before pausing at the sight of a paintbrush. The brush itself looked perfectly ordinary, save for the glass case around it, the crystalline case around that case, and intricate series of chains around both. Both the cases and the chains were clearly enchanted. The brush, however, had no visible runes on it whatsoever.

The Stroke of Genius

The brush of genius painter and Conjurer Erim Bolt, the Stroke of Genius responds to the imagination of the user, allowing them to depict lifelike images without the use of paint. Any surface can be used as a canvas.

When the painting is completed, it must be suffused with the user’s mana. When this is completed, objects and creatures depicted in the painting are manifested in reality. Items and entities created with the brush last a short time before vanishing into inert globs of paint, but while they are active, they possess abilities similar to what the user imagines the item or creature to possess. Truly powerful entities and items may not be created at their full power, but legends indicate that Emerald-level creations are possible when a sufficient amount of mana is imbued in the painting.

There is no known limit to what the brush is capable of creating or how many images can be painted in a given time frame.

Monsters created with the brush are not always friendly to the creator; they behave as the creator imagines they would behave. Thus, this item can be tremendously dangerous to its own user.

That had to be the single most absurdly powerful item I’d ever heard described. I found my hand drifting to the hilt of the Sae’kes at my side.

<Uh, Keras? What are you doing?>

I froze. Uh…admiring?

<First off, your admiration should be directed toward me. Second, no, you weren’t. You were thinking about destroying it.>

…Maybe a little?

<Why…? Oh, right. It’s like that mirror, isn’t it?>

My jaw tightened.

<Keras, the brush’s power is based on ideas. It’s not going to let someone make an evil murderous copy of you that goes on a rampage.>

I know. I mean, consciously, I know that. It’s just…concerning that things like this exist.

<You could take it, if you want. Use it yourself if you think it’s that powerful and dangerous.>

I shook my head. I’m not much of a painter. Beyond that, though, I don’t know if it would even be compatible with my type of essence. And even if my essence doesn’t just break the thing, I don’t think I have enough of what they call grey mana to make any powerful duplicates. It’s a great item, but not for me.

I took one last look at the brush, deliberately moved my hand away from my sword, and took hasty steps to get as far away from it as possible.

The next few minutes were a blur as I unsuccessfully attempted to distract myself with the less terrifying items nearby, until I finally stopped and stared at one of great personal value and relevance. It was an amulet in the shape of a crescent moon facing upward with a spherical blue crystal sitting atop it, glimmering brightly, set on a pitch-black chain.

Hero’s Last Breath

This amulet is one of the six amulets sought by potential wielders of Twilight’s Edge, the Sacred Sword of Shadow. In order to earn the Sacred Sword, one must first obtain all of these amulets to prove their worthiness. This particular amulet was housed in a shrine in the Unclaimed Lands until it was claimed by Crown Prince Xiao over two decades ago. It has remained in the Royal Vault since then, awaiting one worthy to wear it.

I was, of course, immediately tempted. An amulet tied to one of the Six Sacred Swords could be integral in earning the actual weapon’s trust if they were all sapient like Dawn. They all possessed magic of their own, too. I didn’t know how this one functioned, but based on the name, I guessed it probably had something to do with extending life in the face of mortal injuries. That had obvious uses, if I could figure out how to get it to work.

There was a clear problem, though. Dawn articulated it before I did.

<Ravenshade is gonna steal this if anyone gets to it before she does.>

Yep. Might even be the whole reason she entered the tournament in the first place. I don’t think she’s in it to win.

I considered getting the amulet anyway, just to have it as a bargaining chip to offer her. She still owed me a gift and was planning to visit me at some point either way. Maybe I could have used it to negotiate with her for something of equal value, like an amulet for one of the other swords…but honestly, it wasn’t worth taking the chance that she’d be insulted I tried that approach. I was on pretty good terms with her for now, and I had no desire to get on her bad side.

With that idea abandoned, I continued my search of the bottom floor, but didn’t see anything else that stood out to the same degree. It did give me a conversation topic to discuss with Dawn, though.

Your amulets. Assuming I find them…what do they do, exactly? You and Reika mentioned that they have powers of their own, and I’m sure that you weren’t just talking about protecting the wielder from your powers.

<Right. About that…I’m not really sure. Rei and I have discussed it several times, but she was really young when her father died, and he never taught her everything she was supposed to learn. In general terms, though, one amulet should be tied to each of my virtues.>

Some kind of boost to strength would be straightforward and useful. Bravery is pretty easy to guess at, too. It’s probably some kind of protection from fear or magical compulsion. Insight is a little trickier. Maybe some kind of cognitive enhancement?

<Not sure they’ll be quite that direct. The amulets are all tied to me, too, and each of my main abilities is tied to one of my virtues. For example, my Radiant Dawn ability is tied to bravery, since it requires facing harm directly to turn it aside.>

Ah. So, the bravery amulet might enhance that power somehow, or provide some other kind of spell reflection ability? Something like my ring, maybe?

<I mean, sure, if you want to compare my beautiful amulets to a cheap bauble.>

I’m sure your amulets are much stronger than the ring, Dawn. Just was trying to conceptualize what a similar ability to Radiant Dawn might look like.

<Fine, fine. As much as I hate to admit it, you’re right: something like a full-body reflection ability could be possible. Or maybe it would help power Radiant Dawn, so I can use it more frequently. Or maybe it makes a reflected spell stronger than the original?>

I nodded. Yeah, those all seem plausible. I suppose the strength amulet might similarly empower Luminous Arc, then, or provide the wearer with a similar ability?

<Right. As for insight…if it’s related to Golden Dawn…hm. Tougher, but if I had to guess, it might empower Golden Dawn to banish creatures of darkness. There are lots of stories about me doing that sort of thing, but it’s hard to know how literal those are.>

I perked up at that. That’s…very interesting. Could be just the type of thing we need against shades. You’re already plenty effective against them, but a stronger Golden Dawn…if we could use that against someone like Akadi…

<…You really think it’d be that useful?>

I blinked. Absolutely. I mean, we don’t know if that’s actually what the amulet does, but if you’re right, it’d be a huge benefit.

<…Oh.>

I got the sense that she was pleased, but also a little embarrassed. Worried, too. Lots of emotions mixed up there. I wanted to talk to her about it further at some point, but I ran into Reika browsing while I headed up to the second floor. “Anything interesting yet?” She asked.

I filled her in on my findings. Reika nodded slowly. “Hm. Crown might not be a bad idea, given your issues.”

“Yeah, I was considering that earlier. I’ll think about it some more.”

<Narrator: He did not.>

I rolled my eyes and walked up the stairs.

The second floor didn’t hook my attention to the same degree. I’d never been much of an armor person. Even the Bladebreaker Bracers were awkward for me to wear. Still, I gave it a good look, trying to find anything that might change my mind.

There were jewel-encrusted suits of armor worn by queens and kings, entire sets of leathery armor made from the hides of ancient beasts, and a few individual pieces of famous armor worn by heroes and royals of the past. Honestly, it all bored me.

The only thing that really got my attention was an entire golem made out of some kind of blue otherworldly metal, which seemed pretty neat.

The Sentinel of Erawen

This golem was found in the center of a titanic crater on the island of Erawen more than two centuries ago. It is near impregnable, but the magic used to create it is foreign, and there have been no known successful attempts to activate it. The golem’s purpose and origin are unknown. It is believed that whatever power source once allowed it to function was broken by whatever smashed it into the crater.

I paused, contemplating. Hey, Dawn. Invincible golem body?

<…Do you think it would work?>

Don’t know. Depends on if it already has some kind of consciousness that’s been deactivated and if we can figure out how the original enchantments work.

<That is…admittedly tempting, but no. I’m going to pass. You’re sweet to offer, but I don’t just want to walk around in a hunk of metal. I want to be flesh and blood, like you.>

We don’t know if that’s possible, Dawn. I’m going to keep trying, but…

<I know. It’s okay. Just knowing you exist means it’s probably possible, right? That gives me hope.>

Dawn, I still don’t know for certain that I’m the same thing you are.

<You’re probably not. Not exactly, at least. But even if you’re something similar, that means there might be routes to make me more like you, right?>

Maybe.

<…We can discuss this more later. For now, no. I don’t need the golem. Thank you, though.>

I nodded, continued my sweep of the second floor, got bored, and headed up to the third.

There were dozens, maybe hundreds, of weapons in the collection. I loved browsing through them and just reading the stories of their histories, but there were a handful that had abilities that stood out, too.

One weapon caught my attention immediately — a glaive. It was a gorgeous weapon, with a lacquered green shaft and a grey-metal blade shaped like a sharpened bird’s wing. The wing-like design reminded me a little bit of the Sae’kes, but in a way that I found pleasing, rather than discomforting.

Wraith Cutter

Built in the legendary Ghost Forges of Artinia, Wraith Cutter was once the weapon of one of their legendary deities — a “green goddess of diamond and jade”. While there are no known records of the name of this supposed divinity, the weapon is among the most potent in our collection, with power supposedly rivaling even one of the sacred swords.

The glaive was carried across the sea by one of the first settlers of Dalenos, a member of House Sapphire that had been pledged into the goddess’ service. Supposedly, the goddess had been slain, and the new wielder had been banished from Artinia as a result of his role in his patron deity’s demise. When he eventually died, the Wraith Cutter was passed on to his ancestors, one of whom eventually lost the weapon in a duel against Princess Edria Shan. At this point, the glaive was moved to the royal vault for safe keeping.

The weapon’s full properties are unknown, but some have been gleaned from legend. A single touch from the weapon’s blade is said to banish malevolent spirits. Those that survive are horribly maimed by the weapon’s powers. When bonded to a wielder, the weapon provides the ability to perceive incorporeal enemies and significant protection against possession.

I stared at the weapon for some time, unconsciously reaching out toward it before stopping myself.

An Artinian goddess…

Was this my mother’s weapon?

I’d heard Wrynn refer to my mother as something like an “Impervious Forest Deity” during her time in Artinia. I’d never known what kind of weapons she used in battle, but if this was also wielded by some kind of “green goddess”, maybe they were the same?

It was possible the “green” just referred to a color of jade, though…or even the color of the handle of the weapon.

Still, the wing-motif was similar to the Dominion Breaker, which was my father’s sword…

It wasn’t impossible to think that the weapon could have belonged to my family. That in itself made the weapon a serious temptation, but beyond that, it also had properties that interested me. Banishing malevolent spirits sounded exactly like the sort of thing that would be useful against Akadi’s minions…presuming that it worked against shades, too. That wasn’t by any means a certainty.

Protection from possession was also a huge potential benefit against Akadi, although I didn’t know if I was vulnerable to that in the first place. I wasn’t an ordinary human, after all, and I’d been hit by several ruinshades without any signs of the vek taint. It was possible that, like Ishyeal, I was immune.

<If it belongs to your family, then…maybe you should take that right away.>

Maybe. I…feel like I should at least browse a little more first. I feel like there’s something else here I need to see.

I moved on, casting one last look toward the glaive as I walked away.

I hurriedly tried to find anything else that would serve as a distraction to get my mind off it, stopping in front of a massive tower shield. While shields weren’t weapons, exactly, I assumed they’d put it in the weapons section because it was hand-held, rather than worn like armor.

The Wall of Wonders

Once, long ago, a contest was held every six years with champions hand-selected by each of the visages competing in a variety of tournament matches. This tournament was used to settle disputes between each of the visages, often influencing significant political events. Each visage chose one event to sponsor and run. As one might expect, many of these were martial in nature, and thus martially inclined champions tended to have significant advantages in the contest as a whole.

Wydd, the Visage of Forbidden Knowledge, rarely participated with any degree of seriousness — but in one strange and fateful event, they chose a Paladin to serve as champion in this tournament. The paladin was armed and armored with strange equipment fashioned by Wydd themselves. Each item had unusual functions that were difficult for enemies to predict.

The identity of Wydd’s legendary Paladin remains unknown, though there is much speculation from the legends of the event. Importantly, one of the few stories that remains consistent is that the paladin carried a titanic shield that had properties which seemed to shift from match-to-match: The Wall of Wonders.

This shield staunchly resists any attempts at diagnostic magic, producing wildly different results each time it is tested. It demonstrates varying capabilities for different users and on different days. When it is used to block enemy spells or projectiles, it changes them: arrows may be turned into carrots, fireballs into bursts of harmless and colorful smoke.

While powerful, the shield is unreliable. At times, the abilities it manifests in battle are seemingly useless, and from time to time it may even change an incoming attack into something more dangerous than the original. For this reason, it has rarely been used in battle outside of the legends from which it springs.

I wasn’t a fan of shields, but that one sounded colossally powerful — both for direct use and in terms of the potential abilities I might be able to gain from using it. I suspected that the variable capabilities of the shield would be tied to something like dream, shade, or spirit magic: any of which would be useful for me to pick up. Sure, I already had some ability with spirit magic, but this seemed vastly more versatile than anything I could accomplish with my existing powers.

Of course, it was very possible that such a strange item couldn’t be easily copied with my own abilities. If it resisted diagnostic magic, it might have potent defenses that prevented me from bonding with the item or exchanging essence with it. If so, that would mean I was stuck with an unreliable shield of dubious value.

In spite of the risks, I found the shield sorely tempting, simply due to the potential payoff if bonding with it worked. I marked that high on my mental list and moved on.

There were a number of different swords in the collection, but only a few of them stood out to me. Given the potency and variety of the existing swords in my collection, something had to truly stand out in order to strike me as useful enough to spend my single prize on selecting it.

I briefly examined every sword in the collection before freezing in front of a green crystal case. It was the location I’d felt itching at the back of my senses since I’d first entered the building.

There was no sword inside the crystal. Not an entire sword, in any case.

No, it was just a small fragment: a glimmering bit of silvery-blue blade with a single still-glowing rune on the surface. A single fragment of a weapon that nonetheless called to me with alarming strength.

The written description wasn’t as clear as I would have liked, but it helped solidify my suspicions.

Divine Sword Fragment

This mysterious fragment was found by Prince Edria Kang during his exploration of the Serpent Spire. According to his diaries, he has no recollection of where or how he discovered the piece. For many of his adventuring years, he kept the weapon close to his person, often describing that he felt the fragment gave him Selys’ blessing on the battlefield, such as allowing him to narrowly avoid a trap sprung by Valian assassins and enabling him to evade the devastating breath of Nagamichi, legendary son of the God Hydra.

In spite of being only a fraction of a broken weapon, this blade fragment radiates an aura of power more potent than most entire objects in this collection. Its specific abilities are unknown, save what we have from the prince’s journals.

For many years, the prince sought the remaining pieces of the weapon, until finally, at a loss, he visited the visage Melkyr. “Please, great visage,” the prince entreated, “what is it that I have found?”

“A fragment of something long lost,” Melkyr replied. “A weapon shattered by a mistake.”

“Please, great visage, I beseech thee — what is the name of this sword?”

“There is no name for what remains,” the visage replied, “But even now, it carries my mother’s love.”

“How can I find the other pieces?” The prince asked.

“You will not, for that is not your quest. You will rule your nation proudly, but this journey belongs to another. The one who will seek to unite six and six. The one who will give up everything to reforge the world.”

I stared at that fragment. I considered using Sense Sacred Sword, but I didn’t even need to. The potency of the piece was great enough that I could feel it even without any effort being necessary.

But more than that, I felt the feeling of distress and sadness from the sword at my hilt, and I realized that the fragment in front of me had far greater significance to her.

She was, after all, looking at a piece of her sibling’s body.

Dawn…are you okay?

<I…knew that Flowbreaker had been broken. There were stories of the sword being shattered in a dozen books that Reika read to me. I just thought…you know…that maybe they wouldn’t be true. That maybe the sword was still intact out there. That maybe things had gotten mixed up with Selys-Lyann, since it has such a similar legend behind how it was broken. I hoped…>

She didn’t have to say it. You hoped that you could meet all of your family.

<…Yeah.>

I’m sorry, Dawn. I get it. I’ve wanted to meet my biological parents since I first heard about them, but I know I probably never will. And if I found one of them was dead, I’d…well, I’d be devastated.

She was silent for a time. I gave her a moment, but my mind continued swimming with possibilities, until finally I made an offer.

We could try to find them, Dawn. The other pieces. We could try to reassemble Flowbreaker.

<Didn’t you read the overly vague prophecy in the description? It says someone will have to give up everything to reassemble the sword. Does that sound like something you want to do?>

You know my opinion on prophecies, Dawn.

<…Yeah. But I also know you want to go back to your own homeland. Reassembling Flowbreaker isn’t going to be a small task. What if you had to give up going home to finish finding the pieces? Could you do that?>

…No, not really, I admitted. If it’s between saving my homeland and staying here to search for more pieces of a broken sword, I’m going home. But that doesn’t mean I’d have to abandon the quest. I can always come back here once Velthryn is safe.

<Can you, though? What if that means something weird happens, like, say, being thrown forward four hundred years? And do you really know if you can get back here at all? What if your mysterious old sage doesn’t want to send you here again?>

…Then I suppose before I go home, I could leave the fragment with Reika, if she agrees, and she could continue the quest while I’m gone.

<…And what about me, Keras? What happens to me when you go home?>

I don’t know.

We were both silent for a while after that.

Finally, I managed to get my thoughts coherent enough for a reply.

When the time comes for me to go back to Mythralis, you can come with me if you’d like. If not, I won’t fault you if you want to stay here. But that’s a year or more from now. You don’t need to make a decision on that subject right now.

<Maybe not, but maybe it should influence what we do here.>

That’s understandable, but there are a lot of uncertainties in our lives right now. I’d rather focus on what is right in front of us and do the best we can with what we have here.

<That’s a very heroic attitude, but…>

But?

<When you first started looking for the sacred swords, it wasn’t a quest for you — more like a thing to pass the time, since you happened to be in the area and waiting for your friends. It wasn’t really important.>

That’s true.

<You’re talking about finding all the swords, but…have you ever really, seriously tried to get one of them? You’ve run into Ravenshade and Ishyeal several times, but it’s not like you’re trying to collect their weapons. I know you’re focused on the tournament right now, but what happens when that’s over? Are you serious enough about this quest to kill another wielder for possession of their weapon?>

I blinked, nonplussed. I…no, I’d never even considered killing them to take their weapons.

<How exactly do you think you’re going to collect the other sacred swords, then? Or even the pieces of Flowbreaker, if they’re in someone else’s possession — which some of them certainly will be?>

…Well, if they’re as delightful as you are, maybe the swords will decide to come with me of their own accord.

<No one is as delightful as I am, Keras, so that’s not going to happen. More importantly, most wielders aren’t like you. They’re not going to just give their swords up without a fight.>

Maybe, maybe not. I think they could be convinced, under the right circumstances.

<Here’s the problem, Keras. I don’t get the feeling you really care if you succeed or not.>

…Of course, I do. I came all the way out here, didn’t I? I’m in the last round of the tournament.

<Sure. And if you don’t win Diamantine, will you care?>

Yes, but… I paused, shaking my head. You’re right. Collecting all the swords is not my absolute highest priority.

<Then how can you justify taking a piece of Flowbreaker? If you leave it here, maybe someone else will pick it up that is taking the quest a little more seriously than you are.>

Maybe. Or maybe it’ll be left in a box for another hundred years, while it waits for the perfect person to take it.

That gave her pause.

<…That’s kind of a cheap shot, you know.>

Sorry…that was unkind. I shouldn’t have said it like that, but you understand my point. And even assuming the piece in there isn’t sapient…it’s not doing a lot of good to the world while it just sits in a vault. Even if I’m not the right person to collect all the swords, at least consolidating all the pieces I can will make them easier to pass on to someone who is more dedicated to the task, if you think that’s the right approach.

<Would you really give up the pieces if you thought someone was better suited to it?>

I would be willing to discuss it with you and with them, at least.

<I don’t think that’s how these quests are supposed to work.>

I think you know by now that I care more about results.

<…I just worry what the consequences of that attitude might be, in the long run.>

So do I. I worry about consequences all the time, which is why I spent so long worrying about using the Sae’kes in battle. But Dawn, I mean this sincerely — you help me fight away those worries. And not just because you have literal bravery powers.

I trust you to help me make the right choices. To give me strength when I’m weak and to give me insight when I’m lost.

Even with your help, I’m not always going to make perfect decisions. And I can’t promise I’m always going to agree with you, either.

But I can promise that I’m going to try my best to be a good partner for you. And if that means I need to take searching for the sacred swords a little more seriously than I have in the past, I’m willing to commit to doing that. I won’t sacrifice my home for that quest, but with any luck, I won’t have to.

<Okay, charmer. You win. You can have the sword piece.>

And you’re okay with that?

<I still have my doubts about this whole endeavor, Keras. But you’re right about one thing — sometimes it’s better to take action, even when you’re not certain. I have a world of doubts, but…I’d rather face them with you than alone. And…there’s something I need to confess, Keras.>

Yeah?

<Maybe gathering the sacred swords isn’t meant to be your quest.>

I raised an eyebrow at that. Oh?

<I…think it might be mine.>

***

We headed back down the stairs after that, the details of the conversation and the emotions behind it still swimming in my mind.

I found Edria Song waiting at the bottom of the stairs.

“You spent quite a long time on that third floor.” She gave me a quizzical look. “Did you make a choice?”

I had. It was much harder than I’d hoped.

Wraith Cutter might have been my mother’s weapon. It might have even offered me a significant advantage against the greatest threat I was currently facing.

…But ultimately, I’d known my choice the moment I sensed it from the entrance. “There’s a particular piece of a sword in a box that I think might suit me.”

The corner of her lips twitched, but I couldn’t tell if it was in a positive way. “You’re certain?”

“Well, unless you’re going to change your mind about Diamantine—”

She vanished. By the time I’d turned around toward the direction I’d sensed her in, she was in front of me again, extending a hand with a piece of the broken sword in it. “You sensed the significance of this item?”

I nodded to her. “It’s a piece of Flowbreaker.”

“…We do not call it by that name. But yes, I believe the legends indicate that may be the case. You are certain you want this, rather than one of the more obviously valuable prizes?”

I reached out and took the piece of metal out of her outstretched hand. I saw her expression sink just slightly as I took the fragment. “…You wanted it for yourself, didn’t you?”

Edria Song’s shoulders sank almost imperceptibly. “It matters not what I want, Keras Selyrian.”

I turned the piece over in my hands. “Responsibilities of the office. I get it. But if you ever want to go on a quest…I don’t plan to track down the other pieces of Flowbreaker alone.”

She gave me a sad smile. “You are a strange man.”

“Maybe,” I gave her a shrug. “But my offer remains open.”

We waited for a time for Reika to finish her own browsing. Then, once she’d picked her item, we exchanged a few final pleasantries and finished our visit.

Edria Song’s eyes were on my back as I walked through the portal and headed home.

***

During the walk back, I tinkered with the piece of Flowbreaker.

Hello? Can you hear me?

No response. Not from the fragment, at least.

<Loud and clear!>

You know I’m not talking to you, Dawn.

<Rude.>

I tapped it against Dawn, allowing her to try to communicate with the fragment, but she didn’t have any luck, either.

I can feel spirit essence coming from it, but not any kind of obvious consciousness.

<Same. I don’t think it’s awake…but let’s keep trying from time to time.>

I turned to Reika. “Do you know the bonding ritual for Flowbreaker?”

She shook her head. “Nope. I only knew the one for Dawn. We’ll have to research it. I’m not sure trying to bond a single fragment is a good idea, anyway, though.”

“Yeah, that might go badly.” I was probably going to try it at some point anyway, but I didn’t tell her that. I pressed the fragment of Flowbreaker against the appropriate symbol on my belt, storing it inside. “Let’s plan to do some reading after the tournament.”

“I’d love to! I already have a few books in mind!”

“Historical books, I hope? I’m not sure fiction about how Aayara Haven once stole Flowbreaker as a part of her rivalry with the Blackstone Assassin is going to help us.”

Reika blinked. “…Is there a book like that? Because I would totally read that if there is.”

“…No, it was just an example.” I sighed. “History books, Reika. We can read some fiction, too, but…”

“Fine, fine.” She rolled her eyes. “Anyway, look what I got!” She reached into her pouch and retrieved what looked like a comically large crystal key with a dragon’s head.

“Am I supposed to recognize that?”

She blinked. “You didn’t even look at it in the vault? This is like the most amazing thing that was in there! I mean, aside from the sacred sword stuff. No offense, Dawn.”

<None taken.>

“So…key?” I asked.

“Right! It’s a master key to the Temple of Earth.”

I frowned. “Meaning…what, exactly? You can skip the challenges and go straight to the crystal?”

“Oh, no, no. Nothing like that. That would be cheating!” She shook her head. “The elemental temples are usually only open a couple days per year. This lets you access the Temple of Earth and take the challenges at any time.”

I nodded appreciatively. “And it can be used as many times as you want?”

“Yep! I mean, the crystal still only gives out a maximum of one boon per year to any given person…but it means that we can go to the Temple of Earth any time we want, instead of having to wait on the normal schedule. And, even better, it’s supposed to give you the authority to get some stuff from the earth crystal for free if you make it all the way there. Pretty good, huh?”

I considered that. “Depends on the free stuff, really…but yeah, actually. That is pretty good, simply in terms of convenience for accessing the place. If we end up with Diamantine, it might be a good idea to head there right away.”

“I was thinking the same thing! Except, you know, without the ‘if’ part. More like ‘when’ we end up with Diamantine.”

I laughed. “Fair. That reminds me…what did you end up getting from the Arena Vault?”

“…Wasn’t that obvious?” Reika tilted her head at me. “They had a signed first edition of Dragon’s Damsel. What else could I possibly choose?”

***

On the fourth day after the match, Reika, Dawn, and I went shopping again. Not for combat gear, not for gifts for each other, but for something far stranger:

Formalwear.

I’d never been much for dressing up, but it was a special occasion.

“You sure you don’t want Meilin to go with you? I think we’re allowed to bring a date.” I asked Reika.

She shook her head. “She’s not up for going anywhere right now. She’s still too badly hurt.”

I nodded in understanding. Meilin had been released from the hospital and she was back at the Study of Iron, but walking with a cane. I’d considered approaching her a few times, but she wouldn’t even look at me. Reika assured me that Meilin wasn’t angry at me, but I wasn’t sure I believed her.

***

That evening, Reika and I arrived together at the doors to Archduchess Jing’s manor. We were fashionably early, at Grandmother Iron’s advice. Many other guests used the same strategy, and I saw an unfamiliar woman in an Edrian military uniform walking with Haruka Saito just ahead of us as they approached the door.

All the best fighters in the tournament are going to be here. Some of the best fighters on the continent in general.

Let’s see what sort of trouble we can get into.

With a growing feeling of excitement, Reika and I walked through the doors into the Winner’s Banquet.

CHAPTER XXII – OF MIGHT AND MAGIC

We handed our invitations off at the entrance to the building. Rather than simply let us go inside, however, we were given instructions. “Show this to the herald at the entrance to the ball room. You’ll be announced upon entry, then guided to your seats. If you have any specific titles you’d like to use, inform the herald prior to your announcement. Be prepared to properly greet the imperial family when they arrive.”

“Properly greet…?” I asked.

“It is customary to kneel upon the arrival of the emperor when he makes his appearance. Kneeling for the crown princess is also recommended, but not strictly required.”

After that, we were given some basic etiquette for forms of address, which I tried my best to remember.

“Thank you,” Reika interjected while I was still processing. “Anything else we should know?”

“That should be it. Please enjoy the celebration.” The greeter gave us a sincere smile, then directions to the ballroom. We headed in, stopping at the ballroom door as directed.

Reika went first, exchanging a few words with the herald at the door, then grinning as he raised his voice. “Announcing Reika Dawn, finalist of the Tournament of the Sacred Sword, Guardian of Dawnbringer, and…” he paused, giving Reika a look, “…majestic dragon king.”

Reika gave me a wink, then strode into the ballroom to the sound of thunderous applause.

From the ballroom entrance, I could see that this wasn’t as small of an affair as I’d imagined — the tournament winners were apparently the focus of the gathering, but there were hundreds of others present.

I headed over to the herald, presented my card, and prepared to go inside.

<You can’t let Reika show you up like that. Do the thing, Keras. Do the thing.>

With a sigh, I leaned over to the herald and whispered something.

With a long-suffering look, he said, “Of course. Can you please repeat that once more, slowly?”

I ended up writing it down.

Then, the herald announced my entry. “Announcing Keras Selyrian, finalist in the Tournament of the Sacred Sword. Wielder of Dawnbringer. Amuletless Alliterator, Sorrowful Slayer of Sacred Stones, and Supporter of Sapient Spirits.”

<I feel like we haven’t added to that enough recently. What if…>

I ignored Dawn and walked into the ballroom to the sound of cheering and clapping, nodding politely to various figures I didn’t recognize in the slightest as I made my way across the room to my assigned seat next to Reika.

We’d been seated at a table near the opposite side of the ballroom, a position that I understood to be just behind the table where the imperial family would be seated. I was placed directly to Reika’s right, with the currently empty seat next to me assigned to Ravenshade.

<You’ll be lucky if you make it out tonight with only your boots missing.>

I took my seat. Reika was seated next to Alexander Theas and she gave him a friendly hug before sitting down to chat. I gave him a handshake as well, but given my last talk with him, I decided to leave it at that.

Instead, I turned my attention to Hannah, seated in the chair beyond Ravenshade’s vacant one. I leaned over toward her and offered a handshake, which she accepted.

“Selyrian. Glad you could make it.” Hannah gave me a somewhat strained smile. “Can’t be very talkative tonight. I’m going to be busy.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Working double duty on party participation and security, I take it?”

“Yep.” Hannah nodded. “Duty never ends. Speaking of, we’ve got business to wrap up.” She gestured toward one of the tables on the opposite side of the room. “Farren is over there. She’ll be expecting you to swing by at some point tonight. Can’t say whether or not my introduction will do you any good, but I did what I could.”

I nodded gratefully. Hannah had delivered on her part of our initial bargain for the Battle Royale. “Thanks. I won’t count on anything, but I appreciate your help either way.”

“You’ve got it.” Hannah frowned, seemingly seeing something elsewhere. “Wish I was doing more of that and less of the other part of my job tonight.”

“Sorry that you couldn’t get the night off. Anything I should be prepared for?”

She shook her head. “No, we’re not expecting any trouble…but a certain someone is still out there. And while attacking here would be suicidal at best, if one has expendable bodies at their disposal…”

I nodded at her logic. “I’ll keep an eye out. Anything in specific I should be looking for?”

“Can’t say anything. That’d be a security breach in itself. Sorry. And now I need to get to work.” She stood up from her chair. I moved to stand as well. “Not a fight, don’t need your help. Politics.” She tapped an earring on her ear. “Need to go deal with some bickering nobles.”

“Ah.” I slid back into my chair. “Best of luck, then.”

“You, too. You probably won’t get out of the evening without a noble or two petitioning you for help with something.”

I groaned at that. “Thanks for the warning.”

With that, Hannah departed. Reika was still talking to Alexander. A few more of the tournament fighters were present at the event, but not seated. I caught Ishyeal chatting with a group of fighters from previous rounds in a corner, and I saw Shun and Walter watching the band playing in another section of the room, but I didn’t approach them.

Hannah had given me an opening and I fully intended to take it before it vanished.

Anabelle Farren was easy enough to spot — she was the only one at the party seated with two golems in the chairs next to her rather than human guests. That didn’t mean she lacked an entourage: she had a muscular man hovering a few feet behind her with a stern expression that looked like the world’s most obvious bodyguard, and I also noticed Kamaria Clarent further down at Farren’s table. Clarent was one of the few people who had fought against Edria Song in the opening ceremonies that hadn’t had her body stolen by Akadi yet, so I figured keeping an eye on her throughout the evening would be a good idea.

Farren was a black-skinned woman that I would have put at around twenty-five or so, much like Clarent herself. While Clarent was short, Farren had a remarkably average build and lacked Clarent’s muscle.

Farren herself looked out-of-place at the gathering. It looked like someone had tried to clean her up for the event and failed miserably. Her shoulder-length hair had once been in some kind of tail, but it had sprung mostly loose. Her glasses and gloves both had some kind of dark substance on them, probably some kind of oil or ink. Her grey suit was currently pristine, but ill-fitting, like someone had tailored it for her older sister.

There were a few others at their table as well, most likely other people from Farren Labs or political figures from Caelford, but I paid them no attention. I stood up as soon as I saw her.

“Going to go talk to Farren,” I told Reika. “Want to come?”

“Later, chatting with Alex for a while.” She waved me off.

I headed straight to Farren. I didn’t trust that the evening would remain uneventful, and I wasn’t going to let an opportunity to talk to her slip by.

Farren was staring off into space when I approached. The bodyguard behind her tensed as I came close, holding up a hand. “Wait,” he said simply.

I paused. “For?”

The bodyguard leaned down and whispered to something to Farren. She startled, glancing at him, then turned and seemed to notice me standing in front of her for the first time. Her eyes widened.

“Oh. Oh! You’re here right now.” She turned back to the bodyguard. “It’s fine, Nakht. I’ve been expecting for him to be here when he’s least expected.”

I blinked, trying to parse that statement, then waited for her to turn back toward me. When she did, she immediately extended an ink (probably?) stained hand. “Hi! I don’t know you, but I will, and I’m very excited to. Who are you?”

“You can call me Keras Selyrian.” I reached out and took her hand. “Wielder of Dawnbringer and all that.”

“Dawn…Dawnbringer? Oh, is that why I know you?” She frowned. “No, I think it was something more important.”

<How. Dare.>

I ignored Dawn and shook Farren’s hand. Or, rather, she shook my hand rather emphatically until Nakht reminded her to release it. “Hannah said she told you I was coming by sometime tonight. Perhaps she mentioned that I’ve been looking for someone to give a corporeal body to a sapient spirit?”

Farren frowned. “I don’t know. Did I know that?” She asked no one in particular, then shook her head. “Doesn’t matter. Don’t think that’s the thing.” She squinted at me. “Why can’t I see you properly?”

I paused, thinking. Maybe I was passively benefitting from the mask’s powers, even though I was not currently wearing it? I’d proven that I’d managed to copy some of the abilities and could use them actively during my fight with Muramasa — maybe they were starting to interfere with my normal appearance. “Are you using some kind of detection magic? I have an aura that can disrupt that sort of thing on occasion.”

“No…that’s very interesting, but also boring.” She frowned. “I think it’s a fate thing. Your fate is broken. That shouldn’t happen.”

That might have been an alarming statement if I hadn’t been hearing similar things from Asphodel for a long time. “I’ve been told it looks like my fate is overlapping with someone else’s?”

“Eh, not really, at least not right now. It’s more like someone cut it off completely somehow. Bad move, that. Never know how things are going to go without a proper fate. You should probably never do anything again. Too dangerous.”

“Uh, sorry. I kind of have to do things.”

She nodded. “I understand. I, too, bear the burden of things. I would mourn your inevitable terrible demise, but ultimately, I’ll probably forget. Anyway, why were we talking again?”

I’d seen eccentric genius types before, but never one that was so pronounced. I had to wonder how much of it was just her putting on a show. It was also possible that drugs were involved. Many, many drugs. Possibly all of the drugs.

“I was hoping to get your help with finding a way to make a permanent, corporeal humanoid body for a spirit that is sapient, but currently bound to a weapon.”

“What, like an extra body for a Soulblade weapon? That sounds boring, what’s wrong with their existing body?”

I shook my head. “Not like that. It’s not a Soulblade weapon. The entity doesn’t have any sort of corporeal form aside from the sword.”

“That sounds unlikely.” She frowned. “How did they get into that form?”

“Uncertain. Maybe you could help me figure that out as well?”

She frowned. “Sounds like a lot of work, and uncertain. Very uncertain. I don’t like dealing with fateless entities.”

I fished the Crown Princess’ token of favor out of my bag. “Would this help convince you?”

She blinked at the token, uncomprehending. “…No?”

“It’s a token of favor from the Crown Princess,” I explained. “It can be exchanged for things of value.”

“Meh.” She shrugged. “Boring.”

I shrugged and put it back. “Worth a shot.”

<Thanks for trying, at least. I know that token could be worth a great deal.>

“Okay. What would interest you, then?” I asked.

“Such a phenomenally broad question! I hate it. Try again.”

This was…not going well. I paused for a moment, considering. “I have some golem cores I could trade? Or some magical items?”

“Eh, got lots of that stuff.”

Need a different tactic. I took a moment to think, then leaned closer. “Can I tell you a secret?”

“I don’t know, can you? That seems like something you would know, not me.”

I tried not to roll my eyes.

Dawn, should I tell her about you?

<Let’s hold off on that. Too many people around. We’re probably being spied on by…uh, everyone. Let’s go with everyone.>

Okay, other secret, then.

<…That’s still a bit of a gamble, you sure you want to risk it?>

For you.

I thought I felt something faintly like blushing coming from Dawn’s direction. Then, I turned to Farren’s bodyguard. “May I whisper something to her?”

“Move slowly.” He instructed me.

I nodded, then leaned in to whisper to Farren. “I’m not from this continent.”

When I pulled back, I saw Farren blinking furiously at me. “You…you’re…oh. Your eyes should be gold. Or was it green? No, wait. That’s not you, is it? Not anymore.”

I wasn’t sure what to make of that. Asphodel had said she saw someone else in my place during her own divinations, though, so that implied that Farren was using a similar ability. “What are you seeing?”

“That’s a strange question. You know. A ballroom. Boring people. Time.”

“…Time?”

“Yep. Oh! I think I see the problem.” Farren frowned. “I think I found where your fate went.”

“You did?” I didn’t really know how to respond to that.

“Yeah. I mean, maybe. I mean, probably not. But I have a thread! It’s neat. So is your soul. I’ve never seen one like that before!”

“…Like what, exactly?” I knew my spirit might come across as unusual to people who were looking at it, since I wasn’t human, but I wasn’t actually certain how it was structured.

“I don’t actually know. I kind of hate that, but it’s also exciting!” She narrowed her eyes at me, then nodded. “Okay. Yes. Fine.”

“Fine?”

“She means she’ll talk to you about your issue,” Nakht explained. Then he turned to her. “Shall I give him a card?”

“Yes, yes. That.” She gestured at him fervently. “Done now.” Then she turned away.

Nakht reached into a pocket on his coat and removed a card with a single rune on the surface.

I flipped it over, finding some writing on the other side. “What’s this?”

“A business card. You may visit her.” He explained.

“I can’t read the language. Is this something that gives me permission to see her?”

“No. That is her address. The rune, however, will show that you have permission when you give it at the entrance.”

“…Ah. I don’t suppose you have one in Valian?”

Nakht shook his head silently.

“Okay. That’s fine. I’ll get it translated. When should I come by?”

Nakht looked at Farren, but Farren had already seemingly lost interest in me and was staring blankly in another direction. Rather than ask her anything, he turned back to me. “Whenever you’d like. Be creative. Try to surprise her.”

I raised an eyebrow at that. “Why?”

Nakht gave me a strange, broad smile. “Because I want to see if you can.”

***

I headed back toward where Reika was sitting after finishing the talk with Farren.

<Well, that was…weird.>

Seems like she’s actively utilizing some kind of divination ability that shows her other time periods. My friend Asphodel had a similar ability, and she was a bit eccentric, too. Maybe not quite to this extreme, though.

<Do you think she’s putting on a strange persona deliberately?>

I considered that. Maybe. Hard to say if that was performative or not. I’d have to talk to her a few more times to try to evaluate it better.

<I guess you’ll get a chance to soon…>

You sound nervous.

<Of course I’m nervous! This might finally be my chance to make some progress toward getting a body. And, uh, thanks for that, by the way.>

You’re welcome. And, for what it’s worth, Farren is not the only angle I’m exploring.

<Oh?>

We’ll have to see if she shows up tonight.

<She?>

You’ll see. Or, I suppose you won’t, if she doesn’t arrive. Or if she does and we don’t notice her.

<You could just tell me who you’re talking about.>

What, and spoil the surprise?

<Ugh. Fine.>

On the way back to the table, I was intercepted by someone I only barely recognized at first. A nobleman wearing a powdered wig and a bright red coat. He’d been wearing the same wig last time, but it was his manner of speech that reminded me of his identity.

“Master Selysian! What an unexpected pleasure to see you again.” He extended his hand toward me. “I hope you’ll accept a humble congratulations from one of your first supporters. I, for one, have never had any doubt of your success.”

I took his offered hand and gave him a firm handshake. “It’s still Selyrian, not Selysian, Duke Wynam. I hope you’ve been enjoying the banquet.”

If he was abashed at misremembering my name, he gave no sign. “Not nearly so much as I’ve been enjoying the matches, young man! You’ve been quite a delight on the battlefield. It’s a shame that filthy Dalish man keeps blocking scrying — I could barely see a thing after your fight with him began.”

“Dalish…” I blinked. “Oh. You mean Muramasa? He’s Artinian, not from Dalenos.”

The duke rolled his eyes. “As if it matters. Those foreigners are all the same, really.”

I felt tension building in my shoulders and the urge to show him what this “foreigner” thought of his assessment.

<Keras, don’t. The sword’s influence.>

No, I’ve kind of wanted to punch this guy in the face since we first met. But…I’ll play nice.

“I’ll kindly remind you that I’m not from around here either, Duke Wynam.”

“Oh, of course! Forgive me. I didn’t mean to lump you together with them.” He laughed. “You’re a wielder, sirrah. You’re a credit to your place of birth.”

“Right.” I gave a fake smile. “Was there something you wanted?”

“Merely to congratulate you on your progress! Oh, but since you’re here, and I couldn’t help but notice your distinct lack of a worthy sponsor…”

My eyes narrowed. “I’ll make sure to keep my eyes out for anyone worthy.”

With that, I spun on my heels and headed back toward my table, leaving him in stunned silence.

I sat back down in my chair.

“How’d it go?” Reika asked.

“Arranged for a meeting with Farren later.”

“Ooh!” She clapped. “Exciting! Maybe we can go together.”

I gave her a nod, but I was feeling…distracted.

Ravenshade still wasn’t in her seat. And of everyone attending the party, she was the one I most wanted to talk to.

<Oooh, someone’s got a crush!>

No. She simply owes me a favor, and I intend to collect.

<A romantic favor?>

I smirked. Not in the way you’re thinking.

I cleared my mind as best I could. I didn’t want Dawn to get any hints ahead of time.

A few more people approached me to offer sponsorships, but none quite as distastefully as Duke Wynam. Most were local noble families that wanted to get some kind of connection with a fighter before the tournament in order to improve their political position…at least at first.

The next man to approach me didn’t have an entourage, unless you’d consider the entire party to be one. Eyes shifted from virtually everyone at the table as he approached. This was interesting, since I didn’t recognize him at all.

He looked like he was a few years younger than I was, maybe just at the cusp of his twenties. His black hair was cut short, with a few locks dyed crimson. Maybe it was just the reflection of his glasses and the room’s interior lighting, but it looked almost like his eyes had a hint of red in them, too. Compared to my own build at that age, he looked…wispy. Insubstantial, like a stiff wind might blow him away.

He was well-dressed, but badly. By that, I mean his clothing was beautiful and elaborate, but in spite of carefully-tailored cuts, somehow his crimson shirt was slightly askew, and his silver-framed glasses were falling half-way off his nose. “Wielder. Selyrian. We should talk.”

<That’s…that’s…Prince Edria Liang!>

A royal?

I stood and bowed politely, remembering the very few things I’d heard about etiquette with Edrian royals. “Honored Prince, I would be pleased to do so.”

He blinked. “Yes. Of course. Good. Follow.”

He turned and walked away.

Reika gave me a nudge. “Remember: Handsome princes love flowers and starlight. Don’t forget to compliment his hair!”

I sighed. I was pretty sure this wasn’t a romantic overture, but I wasn’t sure what it was about. I followed the prince as he requested.

He led out of the main ballroom to a balcony area. The balcony overlooked the entrance to the building, but he looked further. When I stepped up next to him and tried to follow his gaze, I saw only emptiness in the distance.

He reached up and adjusted his collar, as if it was choking him. It didn’t look particularly tight. “Eleven point eight to one. More significantly, five hundred and seventy-three to one. Unprecedented, but still too low.”

I frowned, processing. “Those are…what, your estimates of my odds?”

“Not mine. Betting markets. They don’t understand.” He continued to gaze absently into the distance. “They still don’t see them. The flaws.”

“Flaws?”

He seemingly ignored my question entirely. “…The knives will come soon. They are not mine. I know they will not succeed. Such a waste.”

He leaned up against the balcony in a way that might have looked, at first, like it was the only thing supporting his weight. Like he was on the verge of falling, and the railing was the only thing keeping him from plunging down below.

…But that wasn’t right. He was stretched forward just enough to get the precise view that he wanted. Though he looked like he wasn’t paying the slightest attention to his own posture, the way he had his feet planted…it was like he was braced for the whole world to shift beneath him at any instant.

Like if the sky itself collapsed, he’d know precisely where to stand to avoid being crushed beneath it.

<…Is this more future seeing stuff? Is that just…like a theme at this party?>

I don’t think that’s what he’s talking about. Not in the magical sense, at least.

I took a breath. “The knives you’re talking about — assassins? To stop me from winning?”

“Ah. Understandable misunderstanding. Those have been sheathed, for now. The right words were spoken.” He turned his eyes upward. “No. Not for you.”

“Is that why you brought me here? To warn me about an assassination attempt on someone? Did you want me to help?”

“…Help.” He frowned at the word, seeming to chew on it. Then he nodded, turning toward me. “Yes. You must help me. You must fail. Early, before she has a chance to adjust.”

I blinked. “…You want me to throw my match against the Crown Princess?”

“No. Earlier.” He wrinkled his nose. “If you do, the schedule will change.”

He nodded, more to himself than to me, then turned to leave. As if everything had already been explained.

<Don’t bother. He’s clearly not all there.>

I don’t think that’s it. He’s just thinking laterally to people like us. I’ve met people like him before. Not exactly the same, but…

“I don’t have any intention of withdrawing or throwing my match. If you just need the schedule changed, though, couldn’t you talk to arena management about that?”

He startled, turning back around to look at me with an expression like he’d just seen me for the first time. “…You listened. You understood me.”

I nodded. “Sure, I listened, but I’m not going to change all of my plans just because you want me to.”

“Arena management won’t do a thing. I can…” He paused, seeming to concentrate, finding his words. “Favors. Rewards. Can compensate you.” He frowned. “You’d still refuse.”

“Probably, unless you happen to have a different sacred sword lying around. And even then…”

“Obsession with earning properly. Yes, yes.” He drew in a breath. “Seating charts. Alternate means of schedule adjustments. Delays? Will consider these angles for first round. But later…” He turned his eyes up to meet mine. “Do not fight her. You must not fight her.”

“Why?” I asked. “You’re worried that I’d win?”

“No.” He shook his head, looking suddenly exhausted. “I know that we all would lose.”

With that, he shuddered, reached up to rub at his temples, and then turned to leave without another word.

I stared after him.

<…Quite a party, huh?>

Yeah.

<Want to go get us drunk and dance?>

You can’t get drunk.

<But you can, and I’m great at pretending!>

I laughed and headed back inside the building proper. But even as I headed toward the drink counter, something in those strange red eyes lingered in my mind.

Why do I feel like he’s seeing a completely different part of the picture than I am?

And what would I do if I saw what he could see?

***

In spite of Dawn’s recommendation, I didn’t get drunk. Alexander Theas seemed to be doing enough of that for the entire group of finalists.

…And I couldn’t shake the feeling that there were still threats everywhere.

<Lot of power here, but I don’t think anyone is going to try to shank you at the dinner table.>

It’s not me that I’m worried about.

<Oh? Looking out for our dear, brave dragon?>

Reika was drinking, but I wasn’t really worried about her, either. She could handle herself even after a few cups. Or a lot of cups. Honestly, if someone tried to pick a fight with a drunk Reika, it was the rest of the party I’d be more worried about.

But I didn’t think she’d be a target.

I scanned the room as I headed back toward the table, noting small details. Guards were deployed around the room, but there were gaps. Significant gaps.

Near the stairway. Nothing covering the balcony I just left.

…And most of those uniforms are for the house guard, not the royal guard.

<You think someone might go after the crown princess?>

I nodded silently.

Maybe. There’s a lot going on here that I haven’t been paying much attention to.

<Because you hate politics.>

Yep.

<So, why pay attention now, when ignoring all this has worked out so far?>

I can’t afford to be unprepared if something happens tonight.

<And what would you do if someone goes after the crown princess? Protect her? Even presuming someone could actually pose a threat to her, would defending her be in your best interests?>

…I don’t know. And I’m not sure if I care about my best interests. Defending people is what I do.

<So honorable. Be still, my heart.> The sarcasm was evident in her tone.

I thought you were going to stop mocking me.

<What? No, I never said that. I’d stop being me. I’m just trying to be a little nicer in general. So, uh, your hair looks nice today?>

…Thanks.

I groaned and sat back down next to Reika.

Still no Ravenshade, I noted.

<I mean, she’s a phantom thief, she’s probably robbing someone blind while all the power in the city is in one place.>

…Dawn had a point.

“Sho, how’d it go?” Reika leaned closer. A little too close. And she was speaking a little louder than she needed to, even accounting for the party noise. “Get a kiss from the handshome prince?”

“Nothing like that. It was all business.” I reached over and plucked the cup out of her hands. “You’ve been drinking too much again.”

She blinked at her now-empty hands. “What? Nooooo, not me! I’m a big and shtrong dragon, I can drink shoooo much more.”

“I’ll get you something better to drink.”

“Kay!” She grinned at me.

I took her cup, poured it out, and went to the bar.

She’d notice if I just brought her water, so…

I found a couple cups of fruit juice, mixed them together, and hoped she’d mistake it for some kind of exotic beverage. Then after handing that off to her, I went to sit down, but paused when I saw someone in the corner of the room.

Crown Princess Edria Song wasn’t ordinarily the type to blend into a crowd. I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen her outside of her armor. I’d certainly never seen her unarmed.

But there she was, wearing a bright red dress with green trim and awkwardly holding a beverage cup. A half-dozen members of the royal guard were distributed throughout the crowd in the area, with the appearance that they were trying to blend in without much success.

I glanced briefly at Hannah to find her watching the princess closely with a look of…let’s call it dedication. Hannah was very focused. If she noticed my own glance, she didn’t react or say anything.

The princess herself had a look on her face that I hadn’t seen. I hadn’t taken her for the type that would have difficulty at this sort of social event, and she didn’t look precisely intimidated, exactly. Not bored, either. Maybe just…resigned? Disappointed?

It was peculiar enough that I couldn’t fight down a bit of curiosity.

<Going to go sweep our princess off her feet?>

Not in the way you’re thinking, but…not a bad idea.

<Oh, no. No, no. Do not get ideas.>

I grinned, took a quick drink, then walked over to approach the princess. I was very aware of the attention of the hidden-not-hidden guards immediately turning toward me.

I was equally aware of the startled expression on Edria Song’s face as I approached.

I gave her a lazy salute as I walked over. “How’s the evening treating you, Crown Princess?”

“It has been…pleasant,” she obviously lied, “thank you for asking. I am…pleased to see that one of my fellow wielders made it.”

“Think Ishyeal is here, too.” I turned to confirm, then jerked a thumb in his direction. “Yep, he’s still here.”

“Oh.” She blinked. “I have been remiss in my responsibilities. I should have greeted you both properly upon your arrival.”

“Nothing to worry about in my case. Appreciate the thought, though. And I’m sure Ishyeal doesn’t mind, either. He seems to be blending in very well.” I left out the “better than either of us” part. The implication was clear enough.

“Ah. Yes.” She glanced around awkwardly, searching, but I didn’t get the impression that I was the one causing her discomfort.

“Looking for Ravenshade?”

She turned back to me, focusing in a way that reminded me more of her usual self. “What makes you say that?”

“Well, you sounded disappointed when you noted that ‘one of the wielders’ made it. Were you looking forward to seeing her?”

“I…” She straightened her back. “Obviously not. She is a notorious criminal, but one with an invitation to the event. As a fellow wielder, it is my responsibility to greet her. It is, however, also my responsibility to ensure that this event goes smoothly, and if someone as…audacious as Ravenshade is present, I must remain vigilant. I do not mean to besmirch another wielder, but as you know, she has a reputation for untoward things.”

That was possibly the most forced answer I’d ever heard.

<Huh. Now there’s a pairing I wouldn’t have expected.>

I’m not sure it’s a pairing, exactly. More like…The Thief and the Crown, maybe?

<Oooh. Envy, rivalry, and romance wrapped up in one? I can see it.>

I couldn’t get too distracted chatting with Dawn. “I’ve been watching for her, too. I’m sure half the party is waiting for her to make some sort of move. If she decides to do something, we’ll be ready.”

That might have been the wrong thing to say, since Edria Song’s expression only sank further in response. “…I see.”

Silence.

I didn’t like silence, so I broke it. “So, who are you expecting to face you in the final round?”

She refocused instantly. “It would be inappropriate of me to give any evaluation of the candidates prior to their matches. It could influence things…”

I smirked. “What, like betting pools? Don’t worry, princess. I’m not betting on anyone other than myself. And I’m not putting any gold on that bet, just a bit of my reputation.”

She smiled at that. “That may be so, but there are traditions that must be kept. I am bound, as always, by my responsibilities.”

<Maybe she’d rather be bound by a certain Phantom Thief.>

Dawn sent me an image. I tried not to let my expression shift too abruptly.

“Is something wrong?” The crown princess asked.

“No, just…thought I heard something, but it was unimportant.”

<Rude.>

I smiled at the princess. “I apologize for the distraction. Now, if we’re both interested in seeing our fellow wielder, maybe we can combine our efforts. Maybe you’d like to come sit and chat with me at the combatant’s table? You could take Ravenshade’s chair — that’d be a good way to ensure you see her when she arrives.”

She tensed again. “While that is an…intriguing offer, it would not be appropriate.”

<Not sure if you’re going to get through her shell without something more creative.>

I nodded. “Better idea, then.” I reached into my bag. Guards around us tensed immediately.

Somehow, I thought I felt Hannah’s eyes on my back when I pulled out a particular token.

I displayed the token to the crown princess. When she saw it, her eyes focused on it immediately, then shifted to mine. I felt a sudden intensity from her expression. The weight of expectation, curiosity, and…hope, perhaps.

<Oh, oh! Sweep her off her feet! Are you going to ask the princess to dance?>

I smirked.

Close.

I extended my hand with the token. “I’d like to formally invoke your favor.”

“Wielder of Dawnbringer. What could you possibly wish to invoke my favor for in such a public place?” Hesitation again, but twinged with interest.

“Why, only the most important thing I could possibly ask a princess of your renown and grace.” I smirked. “Crown Princess Edria Song, will you do me the honor of…”

People around the room were moving to intercept.

They were too slow.

“…A friendly duel?”

The room around us froze.

“Why,” a grin slowly slid across Edria Song’s face, “I would positively love to.”

Edria Song snapped her fingers. And in a tone that brooked absolutely no argument, she said, to no one and everyone at once,

“Prepare an arena.”

***

I watched as the ballroom floor was cleared and surrounded by rune-etched posts. As people leaned over those posts and fiddled with runes on the sides, I realized they were setting up some kind of barrier.

Smart.

<A favor from a princess and this is what you do with it?>

I mean, I did try to trade it for Diamantine. And pawn it off on Farren.

<Yeah, but those were obviously not going to work! You could have, you know, just asked for a conventional dance or something. Or maybe a shiny new scabbard for an attractive sword?>

Meh, all the swords I know have enough scabbards.

<…I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that and just, you know, go cry quietly.>

I rolled my eyes, then walked to where the crown princess was commanding people to prepare the area. “I didn’t mean to cause such a commotion.”

“You thought you’d just get a match with me quietly? Perhaps in private?” She scoffed. “I’m going to be the head of state. I do not fight without certain…preparations in place.”

“Even when you’re sparring with someone like Hannah?”

The princess shook her head. “It’s different with someone in my own personal entourage. Why, Selyrian. Are you intimidated to be fighting me in front of such a crowd?”

I laughed. “Oh, no. I love putting on a show. I just don’t want to be a burden to the organizers, or disappoint anyone who was dancing.”

“Oh, I’m sure they’ll find observing our bout to be quite worth any inconveniences. This is a rare treat. How often do two sacred sword wielders cross their blades?”

It was clearly a rhetorical question, so I didn’t answer. Instead, I switched to asking something I probably should have established ahead of time. “Should I expect specific terms or restrictions for our bout, if it’s going to be such a formal affair?”

“I wouldn’t call it formal, exactly, but yes. I will announce the terms before we begin. They’ll be confirmed, then we will begin.”

Her statement made it clear that I didn’t actually have any influence over those terms, so I didn’t bother to ask further. Arguing would be pointless.

I saw her glancing around again.

Looking for Ravenshade, maybe? Wonder what’s going on there.

I considered asking her about it, but I decided against it. Instead, I headed off to find Reika. She waved excitedly as I approached the table.

“Keras, Keras! You’re fighting Edria Song!”

I smiled. “Yep.”

“That’s cheating!”

“…Wait, what?”

“It gives you an advantage if you fight her later!”

I took a moment to process that. “…No? I mean, it gives me more experience with her fighting style, obviously, but she’ll be getting the same practice against me. I’d like to learn more from the bout than she does, but…”

“No, no! I mean compared to the rest of us. You get more experience fighting her.”

I blinked. “Sure, but not more than some people. I mean, Hannah fights her all the time. And Alex has already fought her, too.”

Reika gasped. “Oh! You’re right! Alex, you cheater, you.”

“Guilty.” Alexander Theas grinned. “You’ve discovered my terrible secret.”

“I’m going to go get you something else to drink.” I shook my head, went to the bar to get Reika another mixture of juice to help her sober up, and handed it off to her.

She accepted the beverage with an encouraging, “Don’t die!”

I thanked her.

Then, it was time to begin.

***

We stepped onto opposite sides of the ballroom floor to the sound of thunderous applause.

<Okay, I admit, this is pretty nice. Good people of Edria, keep cheering for me.>

I tried to keep the smile from my face, but I failed.

Edria Song addressed the crowd. “People of Edria. Honored guests. Today, you bear witness to a rare event: a challenge between two wielders of the Sacred Swords. It is my honor and privilege to engage in this match against Keras Selyrian, citizen of Edria, and wielder of Dawnbringer.”

Smart move, princess.

Introducing me as an Edrian citizen had been an interesting strategic choice. It meant that if I performed well, she could claim that as being advantageous to Edria. It also was potentially a move to reduce any potential tension that would come from a Valian wielder fighting against an Edrian one.

This type of thing was exactly what I enjoyed, so I was glad she was taking steps to reduce any political consequences that might come out of my whimsical request.

I waved enthusiastically to the crowd and allowed Edria Song to continue her speech.

“In order to reduce any risk to the crowd, this will be a sparring match of moderate intensity. We will fight until one participant is knocked out of the arena, incapacitated, or surrenders, but with some limitations. While we will be in a protected area, our power vastly exceeds that of the defenses in place. Thus, we will be limiting ourselves from using any attack that would be dangerous to the crowd.”

I gave her a firm nod of agreement. Not that it was really necessary.

She continued. “As the heir to the nation of Edria, I must make it clear, here and now, that I engage in this battle of my own free will and volition. If, by some accident, true harm should come to me, I accept full personal responsibility. No action is to be taken against Keras Selyrian, his family, retainers, other relations, or home nation.”

There was a bit of a murmur from the crowd at that.

She turned to someone in the crowd and said firmly, “So speaks Crown Princess Edria Song, and so it will be.”

A single voice responded to her in a firm tone that brooked no argument:

“So. It. Will. Be!”

The crowd parted around the speaker, but I knew him from his voice alone.

Emperor Edria Fang had spoken.

The crowd fell to their knees, then with one voice, they responded, “So it will be!”

I didn’t do any of that.

I wasn’t that obedient. And, moreover, I was entirely too distracted.

The emperor looked much like when I’d seen him in the opening event. He stood tall in spite of his advanced age, wearing similar crimson armor to what the crown princess generally favored, accented by massive mana crystals in each of the shoulders.

He was an imposing figure, but I wasn’t keen on kneeling before royals when it was avoidable. Instead, I gave the emperor of Edria the salute of one swordsman to another. He inclined his head in the slightest nod.

It was a subtle thing, but while I was in his presence, I thought I could sense one of the sacred swords coming from him. It wasn’t as obvious as the swords themselves — it felt more like the presence of a blade that I felt when I was near Hannah. I suspected that implied he still had a piece of Diamantine, but I couldn’t be certain.

When I managed to peel my eyes away from the emperor and back to Edria Song, she spoke. “With my grandfather’s blessing, I am prepared for this match.” Edria Song nodded to me. “Wielder of Dawnbringer, do you have anything to say?”

“I do.” I nodded. “I would like to thank you for honoring me with this opportunity. I would also like to thank the nation of Edria for hosting this tournament, and to give my thanks to the emperor for gracing us with his presence and approval of this match.”

“You do credit to your people with your words, young wielder.” He waved a hand and his lips curled up. “But enough of pretty language. You have intrigued us all with this challenge. Let me see your skill.”

My grin widened. “Gladly. Shall we start the show?”

“Wait.” Edria Song said. “One last thing.”

All eyes turned to her.

She turned toward a corner of the room. “Band…battle music.”

Then the band began to play. My heart beat faster with every beat of the drums.

Edria Song smiled. “Now, we’re ready.”

“Bow to your opponent.” The emperor demanded.

We both bowed.

My mind swirled with plans and tactics. My hand slipped toward the sword at my left hip.

Edria Song did the same, reaching toward Diamantine.

“Begin!”

I drew Dawn. There was no real alternative choice: this was a duel between wielders, and beyond that, my other swords presented too much danger for collateral damage.

Beyond that, I had no interest in showing Edria Song every card I had to play before our final battle. This spar would be a test of how much each of us could learn from the other before it resolved. She presumably was already familiar with the Pale Crescent, given it was a tournament prize, but I hoped that the Dominion Breaker’s full capabilities were still unknown to her.

Then, I did something very uncharacteristic of my usual fighting style: I walked toward the center of the arena and waited.

Edria Song did the same. We circled each other for a time, eyes scanning the other for mistakes. Weaknesses.

The crowd was silent, but the music blared. The rhythm helped me focus more completely on those perfect moments where our thoughts raced against each other.

Then, in a moment of decision, we both moved.

Diamantine flashed toward my neck.

Edria Song wasn’t fighting at full speed yet. Even so, if I’d never made my bond with Dawn, I’m not sure I would have even been able to react.

I didn’t parry or dodge. Instead, I slammed Dawnbringer straight down on Diamantine, trying to bash the other sacred sword out of the way.

I was expecting a reaction, but not the scale. There was a crack in the air as the two sacred swords met, then I found myself sailing backward as a burst of mana exploded from the point of impact.

I landed and slid across the floor, barely stopping myself from sliding out of the arena by reshaping a bit of stone.

Well, that’s inconvenient.

You okay?

<Yeah. Didn’t hurt. That was just…startling.>

Edria Song, for her part, had only shifted back a fraction of an inch from the explosion on impact.

That was interesting. It wasn’t a matter of a difference in our strength: there was nothing in the explosion to apply muscle against. Instead, it implied that there was something that had helped her stay in one place. Diamantine’s mass manipulation powers seemed the most likely. It was possible the sword had some sort of power that helped her resist any unwanted motion. If so, simply pushing her out of the arena would be a significant challenge, and further direct clashes between our weapons would generally put me at a disadvantage.

Did you feel any thoughts from Diamantine when you met?

<No, it was too fast.>

That was unfortunate. Trying to determine if Diamantine was intelligent ahead of time was one of the reasons I’d suggested the sparring match.

I was growing increasingly confident that at least some of the other sacred swords had spirit and intellect, but I hadn’t proven it conclusively in any case. Yet.

Can you decrease your, uh, sacred swordness somehow? To reduce the reaction?

<That’s a pretty weird question.>

I walked slowly back toward the center of the dance floor. Edria Song watched me without comment and adjusted to a defensive stance.

Well?

<Thought it was obvious, but no, I don’t know what exactly causes the reaction. Hm. Maybe if we had a top layer of mana around my blade to prevent direct contact, though?>

Makes sense. It’d have to be fairly solid, though. Let’s try something.

I concentrated for a moment as we reached the center, and I felt Dawn’s thoughts align with mine.

The brilliant aura around Dawn’s blade shifted, then seemed to pull inward and solidify. The sword remained bright, but rather than broadly expelling light, it formed a blade-tight shell as we pushed additional enhancement mana into the weapon’s aura.

As far as I could tell, Diamantine primarily used density mana, although all of the swords seemed to mix several types. I didn’t have quite enough control over density mana to try to make a shell out of it, but enhancement was something both Dawn and I had been practicing with, and it was one of the types closely related to density.

Similar types clashing would still probably produce an effect, but nowhere near on the scale of what we’d just experienced.

As the blade’s aura shifted, I saw Edria Song raise an eyebrow, but otherwise she made no comment.

I raised my sword, then made a “come hither” gesture with my other hand.

Edria Song swung straight at my outstretched fingers.

<Eep!>

I wasn’t as surprised as Dawn was. I hopped back, swinging Dawn and projecting a wave of light mixed with enhancement.

When Edria Song slashed the crescent, it didn’t break in half. Instead, it flew off-course and cut a gouge into the ballroom floor. She looked momentarily surprised.

In that moment, I stomped the ground.

Spikes shot up from beneath Edria Song. As expected, she jumped to the side.

Jumping is a pretty good evasive technique in cases like that, but it has a clear weakness: your rate of descent is limited by the pull of gravity. That means that when you majestically soar upward a dozen feet like Edria Song did, you’re stuck following a more or less predictable trajectory for moments that can be a lifetime to a sufficiently fast fighter.

Or so I thought.

The moment I hurled a blast of flame at her airborne form, she simply vanished.

I spun, because that’s pretty much what you do when you think someone just teleported.

Sure enough, she was behind me. Instead of swinging Diamantine, though, she simply pushed forward with her other hand.

Then I was flying backward across the arena again, faster this time.

I didn’t have time to shove Dawn into the ground, and I wasn’t in contact with it: the blast of whatever she’d hurled at me had taken me right off my feet. Without contact with the ground, I couldn’t easily reshape it to stop my motion.

Burden Band: Cling.

I blasted myself with the ring.

Simply making myself heavier wouldn’t make me fall faster, but I’d recognized the kind of mana she’d hurled at me in an instant. It was what you’d call transference mana, or what I knew from many battles with my old friend Velas as motion sorcery.

The Burden Band’s mana was a near-perfect opposite. The moment the burden band’s net encompassed me the transference was neutralized and I dropped to the ground.

After a moment, I decided against tearing the effect off. The Burden Band’s spell would slow me down marginally, but it would also make me resistant to future efforts to hurl me across the arena.

I stretched, then cautiously began to return to the center of the ballroom, where Edria Song had shifted back into a defensive stance. She stood a few paces away from where I’d made the spikes in the floor, but I didn’t think they’d do any more than inconvenience her even if I forced her into them.

It’s about time for me to take the lead in this dance.

I shifted to a two-handed grip around Dawn’s hilt. An arming sword wasn’t really made for that, but her hilt was long enough to make it feasible.

I swept downward, knowing that blocking would be easy with her level of speed.

As I expected, she moved to parry. This time, though, the newly-forged shroud of enhancement prevented any explosive detonation on impact. As our swords met in a press, I tested my strength against her own.

As I pushed, I saw a moment of surprise on her face, then she moved her own off-hand to grip Diamantine’s hilt. That wasn’t enough to reverse the push, but it allowed her to hold steady.

At least at first.

Body of Stone.

Stone mana surged through my body and I shoved, hard.

Edria Song fell back a step, breaking the push. She didn’t look startled or impressed. Rather, her expression shifted to something more serious.

Then, Diamantine blurred, and it was only with the utmost effort that I was able to follow her swings at all. I fell backward, deflecting each rapid strike by a hair’s breadth, finding not a single instant to counter.

Swing after swing battered my defenses until it happened — a momentary slip where her speed eclipsed my own by too large of a margin.

Diamantine cut through my left sleeve without the slightest hint of effort, leaving a thin mark. A brush that should have, under ordinary circumstances turned me to stone in an instant.

A colossal, overwhelming surge of stone mana flooded through my body in an instant.

…Just as I’d planned.

Power surged through my body as my Body of Stone technique stole that petrification effect and repurposed it toward empowering my body, converting her iconic attack into fuel for my own power.

I’d converted petrification attacks into Body of Stone more than once in the past, but I’d known that Diamantine’s technique was potentially too fast for me to react. So, I’d put up Body of Stone in advance and pushed into an exchange where I’d known she’d probably strike me with a glancing blow.

Stone only had a moment to spread across the injured area before receding, then I was absolutely bristling with strength for my counterstrike, which slammed into Diamantine and drove the sacred sword straight into the ballroom floor.

With a tap of my foot, I shifted the tile beneath us, sending it to flood upward around Diamantine’s blade.

Then, in the fraction of a moment where Edria Song began to rip free, I slashed Dawnbringer across her shoulder.

Dawnbringer ripped through her shroud and dress, then met her shoulder. Sparks flew on the impact, like I’d struck a grindstone rather than a person.

The sheer force of the blow slammed Edria Song downward. For a moment, I thought I’d dislocated her shoulder, but she simply grunted and flickered backward after the impact.

When she straightened up in her new position a dozen feet away, she had Diamantine once again secure in her grip and not a single hint of injury where I’d struck her.

I grit my teeth. I’d hit her hard. I’d barely been holding back anything on that attack, and the stolen power that fueled my Body of Stone had made me stronger than a standard Body of Iron technique could have managed. Seeing not even the slightest mark was more than a little disappointing.

But as disappointed as I might have felt, Edria Song looked more so. “Is that it, then…?”

She sounded…resigned.

I felt a little insulted. “Hardly. Come on, we’re just getting started.”

Edria Song looked unconvinced, but to her credit, she straightened up and leveled Diamantine toward me. “You have done well to counter Diamantine’s petrification. I do not know how you managed it, but it will not allow you a victory if you cannot cause me harm.”

Technically, I could have beaten her without hurting her if I found a way to get her out of the arena, but I could tell there was more to her words than the surface meaning. A ring-out victory might be possible in this area, but in our final bout, it wouldn’t be enough.

And beyond that…she wanted a real fight. A fight with risk.

Something she had, in all likelihood, never actually experienced.

I understood her feelings all too well.

I’ll grant your wish, but you may regret it.

<Keras…is this a good idea?>

Probably not, but I want to see where it leads. I’m going to ask you, though…do you want me to stop?

<…You know what? No.>

<I want you to wipe that superior attitude off her face.>

Then…

<Don’t do it yourself. I’ll do it. It’s safer.>

I gave Dawn the slightest nod. Then, together, we moved.

I shot forward, tiles splintering with each and every step. The stone mana I’d subverted was still flowing through my body, vastly reinforcing my strength.

But, as it became evident in the moments that immediately followed after I closed the distance, it was doing nothing to improve my speed.

Edria Song flickered forward to meet my charge. At the start of the tournament, I hadn’t been able to follow her full speed.

Now, after the improvement to Dawn’s power during the middle of the tournament, I could see her movements…but that didn’t make me quite fast enough to keep up.

Her attacks came at me with such speed and precision that I felt like I was being struck from several angles at once. Against an ordinary sword, I might have been able to follow my metal sense to anticipate her movements and parry at a speed that out-sped my other forms of perception.

But Diamantine wasn’t metal. My extraordinary metal sense was useless, and so were my magnetic tricks.

I struggled to smash her swings out of the way, hoping that putting extra power in my blocks would throw her attacks off-course enough to buy me extra time. It didn’t work. For every block that I managed, she swung twice more, landing tiny lacerations across my chest and arms.

Every time I bled, tiny fragments of stone appeared on my body…then vanished as they were subsumed into my technique.

She was making me stronger every time she connected…but Body of Stone had a downside. She was making me slower, too.

And my ludicrous strength didn’t matter in the slightest if I couldn’t find an instant to make a swing.

Body of Dawn was the obvious solution, but I couldn’t be confident that I could use it safely at the same time as Body of Stone. And without Body of Stone, I’d be…well, stone.

It was still tempting to switch to Body of Dawn for an instant to land a deciding strike, but with the scabbard repaired, I was thinking a little more long-term.

Aura of Fire.

A burst of flames exploded around me. I knew from experience that Edria Song tended to avoid most flame attacks unless she’d specifically braced for them. This pattern held true — she stepped back the moment my fire surged outward, then prepared to strike again almost immediately.

I didn’t give her the chance.

“Golden Dawn.” Dawnbringer’s blade flashed blindingly bright. I’d seen Edria Song distracted by a similar attack during the opening ceremonies…

…But not this time.

This time, she lunged straight in, ignoring the brightness entirely. Apparently, she’d noted that particular weakness and found a way to compensate for it. The means didn’t matter in that instant. Her sword lashed toward my ribs with incredible speed, giving me precious little time to react.

I made a choice.

I didn’t parry. Instead, I swung at the same time, aiming for her neck.

Edria Song was faster. Fast enough that, in theory, she might have managed to hit me and withdraw before my simultaneous attack landed.

Fortunately, I wasn’t working alone.

I executed two techniques at once.

I clicked my heels together, activating my Planelock Boots and interfering with teleportation in the area.

Simultaneously, my thoughts raced into the ground.

Floor.

The floor beneath Edria Song liquified and resolidified around her ankles, holding her in place.

And at the same time, Dawn executed two techniques of her own.

<Shift. Cut.>

The mass of Dawn’s blade shifted forward as she utilized one of my classic metal sorcery techniques, making my swing move faster. And as the mass shifted, so did her aura.

She’d drawn on just a fraction of my annihilation aura and wrapped it around her blade.

Edria Song still hit me first, Diamantine landing a solid cut across my ribs. It was the most serious injury she’d inflicted thus far, but with my body absolutely filled with stone essence, Diamantine couldn’t cut very deep. It was repelled by the same type of power that fueled the sword itself.

Just as I expected, she quickly withdrew the blade and tried to step backward, only to find herself stuck. Maybe she tried to teleport, too, but I couldn’t tell.

She didn’t go anywhere.

And in the next instant, Dawnbringer had traced a thin line across her throat.

I lowered my sword and stepped back, using my off-hand to clutch at the wound at my side.

Edria Song stared at me for a long moment, then raised a hand to her neck. When she drew her fingers away, she looked at them with an expression of absolute disbelief.

Her fingers were stained crimson, much like the hair-thin line on her neck.

For a moment, I thought she might respond in anger. I braced myself for another charge, switching to a defensive stance.

Heartbeat after heartbeat, she stared. And then finally…she gave a long, beautiful laugh.

“It’s…wonderful.”

She burst into laughter again, then wiped her fingers on her cheek. “Again!” She lifted Diamantine, still laughing. “Again!”

<Uh…is she okay?>

I pulled Dawnbringer into a high stance, preparing for another clash, but I didn’t get the chance.

A clap of hands with the force of thunder struck the room, followed by a single word.

“Enough!”

I felt a sudden pressure, the kind that probably should have driven me to my knees. Instead, still fueled by Body of Stone, I barely felt it.

That wasn’t true for the rest of the room. Edria Song remained standing, but aside from her, virtually everyone fell to their knees. Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw Reika manage to resist the effect, but choose to kneel anyway, presumably to avoid causing trouble.

The speaker, of course, was Emperor Edria Fang. He stood among the kneeling crowd, then strode forward, straight onto the ballroom floor. “You will cease this sparring at once.”

Edria Song opened her mouth as if to protest, then closed it again. After a moment of hesitation, she grit her teeth and said, “Yes, grandfather.”

Emperor Edria Fang shot me a withering look.

“Of course, Emperor Fang. As you command.” I gave him another salute.

Fortunately, that seemed to be enough to placate him, at least slightly. He straightened his back, then turned to address the chamber. “The prowess of these wielders does great credit to their homes. We must thank them for their demonstration, but now, it must end. So it must be.”

“So it must be.” The crowd echoed.

I had an uncomfortable recollection of a similar ending to my first bout against Velas Jaldin…although, admittedly, this one had not been going in my favor.

I had no doubt that Emperor Edria Fang had ended the battle in response to my ability to wound his granddaughter.

I had equally little doubt that if the battle had continued in earnest, I would have lost.

My strike had been a good one. It had accomplished an important goal: I had shown Edria Song that she was not invincible, and I’d confirmed that I had the means to hurt her myself.

But it had been a narrow, symbolic cut. And in spite of the mana I’d been turning toward giving me greater strength, my overall combat abilities had been diminishing along with my speed.

Maybe I would have pulled out a new trick and found a way to turn the battle, but I doubted it. Forcing a surrender on someone in her position would have been near-impossible. Incapacitating her without killing her would have been similarly challenging. Forcing her out of the arena would have been even less plausible.

Forcing her into a grapple would have been my best bet. With vastly higher strength, I might have been able to pin her…but I didn’t think so. The Planelock Boots weren’t capable of sustained use against an Emerald-level opponent. She probably would have broken through their lock and teleported out of the pin before I forced her to submit. And that was if I could have managed a grapple in the first place, which was unlikely, given her superior speed.

No, I wasn’t going to win that fight. One in ten odds at best, maybe.

But I didn’t regret it for an instant.

“Bow to your opponent.” Emperor Fang demanded.

We bowed.

And when we rose together, I saw something new glittering in Edria Song’s eyes.

Something dangerous.

Something wonderful.

***

Mere moments after the match concluded, the imperial guard swarmed around Edria Song to escort her off the dance floor.

At the same time, my own escort arrived.

I sheathed my sword and allowed Hannah to pull me off the dance floor.

“You don’t know what you’ve done.” She hissed.

“I’m pretty sure I gave your princess the night of her life.” When I turned my head, I found her eyes still focused on me, even as she allowed herself to be guided away from the battlefield.

I winked at her.

“That’s…ugh.” Hannah hissed. “We need to talk.”

“We’re talking right now.”

“In. Private.” She spat the words, continuing to drag me until we reached one of the doors on the side of the room.

I saw Reika moving toward us from the other side of the chamber, looking concerned. I didn’t think she needed to be worried, but I didn’t say anything to Hannah about it. I’d give Hannah a few moments to talk to me in private before Reika showed up, then we’d see what happened.

Hannah pulled the door open and dragged me inside, then slammed the door shut.

“What were you thinking?!” She tried to push me up against the wall, but that one I didn’t allow. So, she just sort of bounced off of me.

“She owed me a favor. I decided to ask for something I thought we’d both enjoy. And, as I said, I’m pretty sure she did.”

“You…you can’t just…fight the heir to the throne like that! There are consequences!” Hannah balled her hands into fists. She didn’t strike me, but it looked very much like she wanted to.

“What, because people know she’s not invincible? Come on, even your legends don’t guarantee that Diamantine’s wielder is literally invulnerable. Taking a scratch from another wielder isn’t—”

“Ugh. That’s part of it, sure. You might think it’s not a big deal, but there are no records of Diamantine’s wielder being harmed for generations. But that’s not even close to the biggest problem.”

“No?” I raised an eyebrow.

“You have publicly shown that Edria Song can be matched, or near-matched, in a fight with a single opponent. That undermines her image against her political opponents. But it’s not just that, either. This is the second time she has paid you her favor in two days. Very few people know about her visit to the vault, but the important ones do.”

I shrugged. “So, people will think she’s going to give me some advantage in the tournament?”

“No, no. Goddess, no. This isn’t about the tournament. Do you know what the average person is going to think when the crown princess of a nation shows obvious favor to someone around her age? Someone from a nation we’re known to have a political rivalry with, who happens to be the wielder of another one of the legendary sacred swords?”

“I…” My mouth opened and closed. “…Oh.”

“If I don’t intervene immediately, by tomorrow there will be newspapers discussing whether or not the mysterious Keras Selyrian is a worthy suitor to the Crown Princess of Edria.” Hannah groaned. “And you didn’t even think about that, did you?”

“…Not in the slightest, really.”

She put her hands over her eyes. “…But you can be absolutely certain that she did. And now that you’ve hurt her…”

I raised an eyebrow. “I feel like I’m missing something there. Sure, she’s the wielder of Diamantine, but is cutting her that big of a deal?”

“It’s not just Diamantine.” Hannah groaned, removing her hands from her face and turning her face to look at me directly. “She hasn’t been injured in her entire life.”

“I…wait, what?”

Hannah sighed. “Six attunements. From birth. A prophecy. They pumped elixirs into her like water. She’s had six shrouds and a reinforced body since before she could walk. Beyond that, every resource in Edria was spent toward equipping her with the finest of magical equipment. And, of course, she has her royal guard.” She sighed. “Gotta say, you made us look pretty bad today.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to. I didn’t realize…”

“I know, I know.” She tightened her jaw. “But that doesn’t matter, does it? You’ve got her attention now, and in a way that isn’t going to be healthy. I need you to stop.”

“Stop in what way? I already injured her. And I’m not sure that’s such a bad thing. If she really is supposed to be a figure of prophecy, isn’t it better for her to know she isn’t invincible before she has to, I don’t know, what’s she supposed to be prophetically doing?”

“That’s sort of vague, really. Save the world from some kind of nebulous threat.”

I stared at her. “…Seriously?”

“Don’t look at me like that.” Hannah sighed. “Look, the visages clearly have some sort of plan for her. One way or another, she’s important to them. You’re upsetting delicate plans by hurting her.”

“And what exactly do you want me to do? Bow out of the tournament? I mean, first off, no. But even if I was willing to, wouldn’t it be a little obvious if I suddenly ducked out after that?”

“I…” Hannah groaned. “I’ll handle some damage control. Just…don’t approach her again. Don’t talk to her. And if she comes to you, absolutely do not lead her to believe that you can injure her again. It was a fluke. Understand?”

I pondered that. “…Nope, sorry. Not going to lie to her. I’ll admit I wasn’t thinking about the political consequences of what I was doing, but she’s still a person, and she deserves my respect.”

Hannah stared at me for a long moment. Then, finally, she said, “…Fine. Don’t lie to her. But don’t approach her. I’ll see what I can do to prevent any political issues before the emperor gets any further involved. You do not want to cross him.”

“Would it help if I mentioned that I wasn’t planning to court her? To him, or in general?”

“Absolutely not. Do not say anything on that subject until I talk to you about it. This is going to require extreme caution, otherwise anything you say could be used against her. And I will not allow this to sully her reputation.”

“I’ll…take that into consideration.”

“Good.” Hannah pulled away from me, then reached for the door.

“Wait.”

She paused, just for a moment.

“Akadi. I need to know if you’ve found anything about his location or plans.” I gave Hannah a hard look.

She winced. “We’re…still working on it.”

“If you’re still struggling to track him, let me have the scythe. Or, at least the crystal. Maybe I can do something with it.”

She shook her head. “It’s out of my hands. And you are in no position to be making demands right now. Not after tonight’s theatrics.”

“Even if I won that weapon by right of combat? I defeated Xiaofan, and I’ve heard that right of battle is pretty significant around here.”

“You don’t have any means to find Akadi with it, do you?”

I shook my head. “Not directly, but…”

“Then you’re just going to slow things down more.”

I glared at her. “Hard to imagine progress being slower on something this important. The stakes are—”

“Greater than you realize. And I’m not at fault for your lack of imagination. This is delicate work.” She glared right back at me. “Something you’re clearly not suited to. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go clean up your mess.”

With that, she grabbed for the door. This time, I didn’t stop her from pulling it open.

There was an “eep” as Reika very nearly fell to the floor when the door swung open, barely managing to catch herself on the doorframe.

“Uh, hi. I was just…” She looked nervous. “…Eavesdropping?”

Hannah gave Reika a hard look, sighed, then shook her head and marched past Reika into the ballroom.

“So…” Reika pushed herself back up from the doorframe, grinning brightly at me, “…Are you gonna marry the princess now?”

I groaned, shaking my head, grabbing Reika’s hand, and leading her back into the ballroom.

Dawn, for her part, was uncharacteristically quiet.

CHAPTER XXIII – SHADOW CASTER

The rest of the Winner’s Banquet passed in a blur. I had no further encounters with Edria Song. I made small talk with some of the other finalists, but Ishyeal seemed to be deliberately avoiding me, and I never found Ravenshade.

I wondered if the crown princess had better luck finding the phantom thief, but I wasn’t sure if she was even still looking.

I considered going to talk to the emperor directly to see if I could go over Hannah’s head about the scythe, but he was gone by the time I looked for him. Apparently, he had left almost immediately after my match against Edria Song concluded.

Going to talk to the princess was out of the question: she was surrounded by a pack of guards the whole rest of the night, and it was obvious they were watching for me in particular. I probably could have muscled through the guards if I really wanted to, but a private talk about the scythe wouldn’t have been plausible. If I wanted to bypass Hannah, I’d have to find a better place and time.

Some of the other finalists trickled in over the course of the evening, but Ravenshade wasn’t the only one that missed the banquet. The Green Guardian never made an appearance, either. I wondered if that implied they were off doing something together, which was sort of a hilarious image.

What would Edria’s famous hero of justice be working together with a famous phantom thief about? It was more likely that they were doing unrelated activities, but I sort of liked the image.

Reika sobered up over the course of the night, then together, we eventually made our way home.

***

With only a couple days left before the end of the tournament, I turned my attention back to training. With limited time to prepare, I had to prioritize.

I spent a considerable amount of time going over the battle with Edria Song, trying to find places I could improve.

I hadn’t been wearing Diamantine’s amulet, which had proved to be a good thing: it showed me that I could counter Diamantine’s petrification without the amulet, but with progressively greater consequences. It was possible that I could have found a way to briefly deactivate Body of Stone to get rid of excess stone mana in my body between hits, but that was a terrible risk. If she hit me while the technique wasn’t active, I still wasn’t confident I could reactivate Body of Stone before the petrification overtook me.

That meant that, presuming it worked, the amulet might be a better counter than using Body of Stone. I wouldn’t get the strength benefits of an enhanced Body of Stone, but while enhanced strength was useful, it lost some utility when simply hitting my opponent as hard as possible didn’t break through her defenses. It would still be helpful if I decided to go for a grappling approach, or maybe an attempt to disarm her, but I didn’t think either of those was particularly viable.

The primary advantage she’d demonstrated was speed. I spent a considerable amount of my time over the next few days working on practicing light, spirit, and enhancement techniques in hopes that would help me to catch up. I didn’t think a few days would be enough to produce a pronounced change, but it was the biggest gap that I needed to close.

I was very aware that I hadn’t been able to hurt her without using my cutting aura. Once again, I’d fallen back on the Sae’kes when pushed into a corner…but it hadn’t worked out quite the same way.

Dawn had carried the burden of that power, and she’d done it without any obvious consequences. She felt fine both in the immediate aftermath and the following day, and neither of us noted any dangerous shifts in my behavior.

She’d only used the aura for a moment, so it wasn’t exactly a representative sample…but maybe, just maybe, we could work that into some kind of usable strategy if we practiced it.

And practice it we did. Not a lot, since we didn’t want to risk me relapsing, but we privately trained with wrapping my cutting aura around her blade and just cutting through things in the privacy of my room. I wore the mask for that small part of the process, just to hopefully interfere with anyone who was paying attention to me in the closing days before the finals. I didn’t want people realizing too much about how my aura worked.

Even with the advantage of our practice round, I knew we had some serious gaps in our knowledge of our opponent’s capabilities. Edria Song had demonstrated virtually nothing in terms of attunement-specific abilities. I deemed it likely that she was deliberately hiding what attunements she had, which I considered wise, or she simply hadn’t felt like she needed them.

I supposed there were a couple other options: maybe she lacked experience with using attunement-specific powers, or maybe she didn’t actually have as many attunements as people claimed. It was also possible she had some sort of limitations due to how many attunements she held: perhaps using multiple dissimilar attunements in rapid succession could be harmful to her, for example. I didn’t think that last one was very likely, since I’d seen her use both transference and Diamantine’s abilities, which were near-opposites. It was worth considering, but not worth planning around.

Beyond that, I knew I’d need to have at least some level of practice for each possible opponent.

I’d either worked with or against every finalist, and I’d spent some time observing memory crystals of other matches, so I had some idea of their skills. Based on my prior experiences, I considered my highest priority to be training against shadow users.

Three finalists — Taer’vys, Ravenshade, and Muramasa — used forms of shadow magic. In spite of light ostensibly “beating” shadow in Mana Core, I’d found that I’d struggled against shadow users more than any other style of opponent. Muramasa didn’t seem to focus on shadow too heavily, but he was one of the opponents that I had the hardest time with as a whole. Taer’vys had managed to both suppress my magic and nearly destroy Dawn. In both cases, I suspected that void was involved rather than just shadow, so I intended to prepare for that as well.

I’d taken some steps to prepare for that already, of course. My Ring of Spell Deflection’s light aura would help against magic suppression, and I’d practiced generating my own light aura. I’d continue to practice with those, but I worried they wouldn’t be sufficient. Without testing, I had no way of knowing if my progress had been meaningful.

I could have asked Taer’vys to spar, or maybe even Ravenshade, but it seemed like a bad idea. They’d get just as much of an advantage out of such training as I would. Maybe more, honestly.

So, in conclusion, I needed a proxy for their skill set. Someone who could use similar abilities without giving crucial information on my own abilities to the competition.

Meilin was the obvious answer. There was only one problem: Meilin was missing. Apparently, she’d vanished a few hours after she’d come back to the Study of Iron. I simply hadn’t been paying any attention.

I wondered if her absence had anything to do with Ravenshade’s absence from the party. In spite of their very similar skills, I was pretty sure that they weren’t the same person — not because I believed “Teletha” was Ravenshade’s real name, but because their personalities were so different. I supposed that Ravenshade probably acted differently from her unmasked persona deliberately, but the degree of difference was significant enough that I didn’t think it was likely. Also, Ravenshade was notably taller, but magic could cover that difference.

I asked around to see if anyone had any idea where Meilin had disappeared to, but she hadn’t even told Reika or Grandmother where she’d been going. I worried that she was going to do something unwise, but I didn’t have any way to track her.

I hope she’s not going after Muramasa. That wouldn’t end well.

One day before the finals, I got an answer to one of my growing list of questions.

***

I woke up to find my sword at someone’s throat.

You heard that correctly. At times, my instincts move faster than my conscious mind. I’d sensed the presence of a new source of metal in my bedroom and, apparently, drawn Dawn and made my first movement before my eyes had even opened.

Dawn’s blade burned at the neck of a familiar figure. She wore all black, a mask of raven’s feathers, and a familiar jian that emitted an aura that tingled at the back of my mind.

She was also absolutely riddled with wounds. A cut across her forehead. A long gash on her left hand. A worrying cut across her ribs. And, perhaps most concerning, a dagger still stuck in her left-shoulder that was dripping with some kind of green ichor.

“…Sur…prise…” The Phantom Thief Ravenshade managed before collapsing into a slowly spreading pool of blood on my bedroom floor.

Instantly, I shoved Dawn back into her sheath. I could sense that she was still asleep, which was probably a good thing.

This was going to be a mess.

My window was closed, so I didn’t have to worry about anyone following her in through an open point of egress. She’d probably gotten into the room through some form of teleportation, likely the one that made her look like she was melding into a shadow.

Immediately, I grabbed my belt from the side of my bed and pulled open the pouch on the side. I set that down, pulling out a flask of water. Next, I grabbed the strange dagger stuck in her shoulder. Instantly, I sensed potent magic within.

I didn’t care.

I reshaped it, compressing the blade to make it easier to slip out without causing her further harm. Then, I tossed it to the side, washed her wound with water from my bag, and began to open healing potions to pour them on her more serious injuries.

Healing potions weren’t ideal for someone who was almost certainly poisoned, but bleeding to death was pretty bad, too. I avoided pouring anything on the specific injury that the dagger had been stuck in and hoped that was the right move.

That whole process took a matter of seconds. After a moment of consideration, I concentrated, then pressed my hand against the poisoned wound and sent a burst of light mana into the injury.

Light mana wasn’t the best way to treat poison — water was superior for that purpose — but it did help the body fight off anything foreign and poison was on that list.

I didn’t expect it to be a complete solution, but I hoped it would help her for the moment, since seconds could count if the poison was serious enough. I picked up my belt and pulled it on. Then, in the next moment, I was throwing her over one shoulder and magnetically pulling the poisoned dagger into my other hand.

I pressed the dagger against one of the empty sword icons on it, storing it inside the Twilight’s Edge symbol in a moment of unintentional irony, then carried the unconscious phantom thief out of the room.

A heartbeat later, I was outside of Fai’s door. It was the middle of the night, so I knocked precisely once before pulling it open.

He sat up in his bed, scratching at his head as I came in.

“Keras…?” Then after a moment, his eyes widened. “Who?”

He was speaking in Cas, the Edrian language, but fortunately that particular word was simple enough that I understood it. And I knew a few words in Edrian that I could reply with.

“Twilight’s Edge. Poison.” I set her down on his floor, then pointed at the shoulder wound.

He pulled himself out of bed without a word, immediately going to kneel at her side.

I pulled the dagger out of the Twilight’s Edge symbol on my belt, then set it on the floor next to her, pointed to the dagger, then pointed to her shoulder wound and repeated, “Poison.”

Fai nodded in understanding. “Wait.”

He pressed his hand on the wound, his eyes widening, then hissed several words I didn’t understand, followed by one that I caught. “Assassin.”

I frowned, raising an eyebrow. I wished I could communicate with him better. I briefly considered leaving to grab Reika, but if Ravenshade had come straight to me…well, that was strange. That implied either that she was still being hunted by someone she couldn’t fight on her own — which would put Fai in danger if I left him alone — or that she had serious concerns about who she could trust. Or both.

I couldn’t discount the possibility that Fai was a threat to her if I left the two of them alone. I liked Fai, but it wasn’t exactly difficult for any healer to conveniently fail to save someone if they wanted that person dead.

So, instead, I sent a hint of thought toward Dawn.

Hey. Need my delightful and daring damsel to wake up.

I felt a hint of stirring from her consciousness.

I pushed my thoughts a little harder.

Sorry about this. Really need you to wake up right now.

She jolted awake.

<K…Keras? What…what’s happening?>

I didn’t know if that would work. I had to wake you up. Take a quick look.

<Is that…wait, what happened?>

She showed up in my room.

<So you…shanked her? Not a good way to treat a girl.>

No, she was already like that. Fai is treating her, but I don’t know if she was followed. Can you wake Rei?

Rei hadn’t gone to bed with Dawn and me that night, since she’d wanted to stay up late to wait for Meilin to come home. I didn’t know how that had gone, but I figured she was probably asleep in her room. I could run the distance to run to her room in a fraction of a second, but getting her out of bed and over here would take time, and I didn’t want to risk even a few moments of leaving the others alone.

<I can try. My telepathic connection with her isn’t quite as strong, but…hold on.>

I waited, watching Fai work. His hands glowed with power and his forehead began to sweat. He murmured something that I recognized as swearing in Cas, then pointed to the dagger.

A few unclear words, then one I got. “Here.”

I pushed the dagger over to him.

He reached down, then without a hint of caution, put a finger to the ichor on the tip. He hissed, pulling his finger away, then bombarded his finger with mana from his other hand. Then, he turned and went back to work on Ravenshade.

His expression looked grim.

<I got her. She’s coming.>

It took another minute before Reika, still in pajamas, managed to stumble out of her room, find her way to this doorway, and gasp at the sight.

“What happened?” She asked.

I quickly summed things up, then Fai hushed me with a hard look and a word I didn’t understand.

Can you get Rei to translate the situation to Fai?

<Yeah, will do.>

A few moments later, Rei spoke to Fai in Cas. He nodded, then replied to her in the same language, too fast for me to catch much of anything aside from “poison” and “bad”.

Reika turned to me. “He might be able to handle it, but he’s not sure. This poison was designed to be lethal. He thinks her sword actually made it worse.”

It wasn’t exactly uncommon knowledge that certain types of healing could make poisons flow through the body faster, thus increasing their lethality rather than decreasing it. Twilight’s Edge offered the wielder a form of shade-based regeneration, similar to my shadeweave tunic. It was highly likely that whoever had attacked Ravenshade had known that and picked their poison deliberately.

…Notably, it also meant the same poison would probably be more effective against me, due to my tunic. That was good to know.

I didn’t bother waiting any longer. I reached for her sword belt, preparing to pull her sword off it.

The moment I put my hand on the clasp, she stirred, her hand shooting to grab mine. Her eyes fluttered open. “…What…where…”

“Just a couple rooms down,” I explained. “You’re poisoned. Fai is treating you. The sword may be making you worse.”

Ravenshade shuddered. “Don’t…take it. There’s…tracking.”

Then, she tried to sit up, failed, and lost consciousness again.

I wasn’t exactly certain on what she’d meant, but I figured the implication was that there was some kind of tracking spell on the sword. Presumably, she’d done something to block the tracking, maybe with her mask or a similar spell, and if I took the sword off of her that her precautions would be undone.

A few quick words were exchanged between Reika and Fai.

Then, Reika translated. “She…might be dying, Keras.”

I grit my teeth. “No. She won’t. Can Fai keep her stable a little longer?”

More exchanges in Cas. “He will try, but it’s bad. Very bad. With poison this lethal, unless you have a specialized antidote…”

“Watch her. Do what you can.”

I stood up, headed back to my room, and dug for something hidden under my bed.

<What are you doing?>

The same thing you’ve always accused me of, Dawn.

It didn’t take long to find what I was looking for. This wasn’t the type of emergency I’d planned to use it on, but it was probably the right time.

Saving the day by breaking a rock.

With that, I lifted the message stone and crushed it to dust in my palm to activate the magic within. Then, I spoke into the air. “Need you at the Study of Iron immediately with every antidote you have.”

Immediately, I heard a reply in a familiar voice.

“Acknowledged. On the way.”

***

It might have been a little underhanded to use an ambiguous message to summon Taer’vys Ironthorn to the location where his long-lost mother lived, but I didn’t feel particularly bad about it. If he was worried that his mother might be poisoned, he’d come loaded with everything possible to save her.

I didn’t know what had passed between the two of them, but in spite of my knowledge that Taer’vys was a cold and calculating bastard, I didn’t think he was the type to let his own mother die when he could do something about it.

There was a sincere possibility in my mind that he’d try to kill his mother himself, but that was entirely different. He certainly wasn’t going to let some random person do it while he was present.

And so, I trusted that when he showed up, he’d be prepared.

That meant we just needed to keep Ravenshade stable in the meantime. And, potentially, prepare for the chance that Taer’vys would be angry at my deception and/or opportunistic about being in the presence of a near-dead wielder and tournament finalist.

I quickly explained the situation to Reika, who relayed it to Fai. I wasn’t sure if Fai knew about Taer’vys’ relation to Grandmother Iron, but he did seem a little more concerned when he heard the name of the person I’d called for help.

In the end, Fai told us through Reika that light mana could help buy some time, so Dawn and I spent our time trying to call as much as possible to send it into Ravenshade’s body at Fai’s direction. I pulled every bit I could out of my ring, Feather Light, and my own reserves, but all it would do was help her fight, not cure the poison.

Taer’vys arrived within minutes. Reika escorted him up the stairs.

He surveyed the scene.

“Hm.” He took in the people in the area, the dagger on the ground, the body. Twilight’s Edge.

His eyes calculated.

Before anything else could happen, I nudged the dagger toward him.

He seemed to make a decision, kneeling down next to the dagger, then reached into a pouch at his side. He pulled out a flask with some kind of liquid and an empty bottle.

Then, with a casual application of metal sorcery, he levitated the knife, allowing some of the green ichor on it to drop into the empty bottle. He unscrewed the flask, then poured into the bottle with the ichor. The mixture swirled and smoked inside, turning red.

He capped that bottle immediately. A moment later, it started to crack. “That’s bad.” Then he shoved it back into the pouch at his side without another word.

“Can you help?” I asked.

“Technically.” He replied with more hesitation than I expected.

“Price?” I asked simply.

He shook his head. “Risks.”

“For her?”

“For us.” He let the dagger hover back to the ground, steepling his fingers. “This is not a small favor.”

“If you need—”

Taer’vys shook his head again. “No. The damage is done. I’m involved now. Holding back has no benefits.” He reached into his bag, then began to pull out more bottles. And more bottles. And more bottles. Most contained liquid, but a few contained other types of herbs and reagents. It was more than a single bag could carry, but I wasn’t surprised. He’d probably picked up one of those dimensional bags at some point.

Finally, he pulled out a mixing bowl and began to mix ingredients. I watched them sizzle and pop, trying to track what he was using for future reference, but I only recognized a handful of the components.

Then, he handed me the bowl. “Feed it to her.”

I accepted the bowl. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me. We’ll discuss the consequences of this later.” Then, after a moment, he added, “…And I’m not giving you another rock.”

***

After a bit of clarification on instructions, I spent the next hour slowly spoon-feeding the mixture to Ravenshade.

Taer’vys, to my surprise, didn’t leave immediately. Instead, he stayed to observe silently, eyes glittering as he no-doubt considered each and every moment of vulnerability.

Finally, when the full mixture had been fed to her, he said, “Come with me. Alone.”

A few words were exchanged between Reika and Fai, then Reika told me, “It’s working. She’s stable. Fai can handle it from here.”

“Can you watch over them for a bit longer?”

“Sure.” Reika nodded.

“Thanks.” I gave Reika a grateful smile, then Taer’vys and I went to take a walk.

Once we were outside, he asked, “Do you have your mask?”

I nodded, not even half-surprised that he knew about it. “It’s in my bag.”

“Good. Put it on, then follow me.”

I complied with that, even if I technically hadn’t followed his first instruction. I wasn’t actually alone: Dawn was still on my side.

And I could tell that she was incredibly nervous.

I’d considered leaving her behind with Reika, but taking my sword off before leaving with Taer’vys would have looked extremely suspicious to him, so I’d decided it would be safer to keep her.

That, and she’d said:

<I don’t want to be apart tonight.>

Which basically settled any internal arguments in my mind.

It was a short run and a shorter climb to the top of a nearby building, then we stopped to talk. Or, rather, we stopped for Taer’vys to stare silently into the distance in contemplation before I had the audacity to speak.

“What is it?” I asked.

He grunted, then turned toward me. “When she wakes up, ask her if she found a gemstone on her pillow last night.”

I froze. My mind raced.

Dawn gasped in my mind.

That calling card…

“…You think he’s here? The Blackstone Assassin?”

Taer’vys stared at me for a minute, then finally shook his head. “…I can’t say.”

I noted that wasn’t a “yes” or a “no”. His wording was careful as always.

After a moment, he added, “But I don’t think this was him. Not in person.”

“Wouldn’t it be more likely this was someone working for the Edrian royal family, trying to thin out the competition or prevent someone from beating Edria Song?”

“No.” He took a moment, then seemed to realize I needed further clarification. “Ravenshade isn’t specialized in personal combat. Frankly speaking, she wouldn’t have made it to the match against Edria Song, and she certainly wouldn’t win. She’s no threat to the Edrian court.”

“Maybe they’d target her if they think she’s planning to steal Diamantine?”

“Possible, but Ravenshade wasn’t ready for that yet, and this pre-empts her too much.”

“How do you know the timing on that?”

Taer’vys shrugged. “Business.”

“Right. Of course. What’s your other reason? The composition of the poison?”

His lips twitched upward in a hint of acknowledgement. “Mythralian components. And, more specifically, Selyrian components.”

My eyes narrowed. “You don’t think…”

“No, I don’t think that part was a deliberate message for you, though I’d appreciate the artistry if it is. Rather, it’s a specific poison used by members of the Blackstones. The real ones, not the children playing pretend around here.”

“Then, if it’s not actually the Blackstone Assassin himself, you think it might be one of his agents? Or maybe one of Aayara’s, trying to look like a Blackstone?”

“Very unlikely that it was one of hers. Can’t discount it, she’s been known to play her agents against each other, but it doesn’t feel right. One of his agents could have done it, though. Or, more likely, an agent passed the dagger and the poison off to someone local to do it. Would have to be someone talented. They don’t tap amateurs to do their work.”

I nodded. “And it had to be someone who could outfight Ravenshade. She may not be a combat specialist, but she’s not an amateur, either.”

“Maybe.” He sounded noncommittal. “Might have hit her when she was in a vulnerable spot, or more likely, already engaged in combat with someone else. At first, I thought leaving the dagger in the wound looked sloppy, but now I suspect it was deliberate. Either to continue pumping poison, or because they wanted it to be found. Probably both.”

“Found by me? Or by you?”

“Good question.” He reached up to stroke his goatee. “There are a few people who might have been able to calculate far enough to know that she’d go to you, then you’d go to me. If so…” He let out a sigh. “We may be in trouble.”

“What sort of trouble?”

“There’s someone in particular who enjoys playing games with people associated with Aayara. Someone who can’t quite operate on her level, but enjoys trying to tweak her nose from time to time. Fancies himself the third player on a two-player Crowns board.”

“A third player…he’s another vae’kes, then?”

Taer’vys gave me a hard look, then, in a tone of absolute dismay, he said:

“His name is Saffron.”

CHAPTER XXIV – HEART OF SHADOWS

When I returned to the Study of Iron, my mind was still racing with the idea that there might be a vae’kes present in the area.

<Vae’kes…those are…>

The people you call the Children of the Tyrant in Gold. They’re unfathomably dangerous.

One of them…Sterling…showed up during the Trials of Unyielding Steel back at home. He killed several people, including one of my friends. He crippled another and left two of the best fighters that I know in critical condition.

And he walked away from that fight without a scratch.

I didn’t get there until the end of the fight, so I didn’t fight him myself that day. If I had…I don’t know if I would have survived.

A year or so later, we fought him again. This time, I was there.

He was unlike anyone I’d ever encountered.

We had a group of some of the strongest people I’d ever known. Wrynn…I think she’s still much stronger than I am, even with all the power I’ve gained since coming here. She has to limit how much of her power she uses, but…even then, she’s formidable. And Lydia? She was borrowing power from two of the pieces of a dead goddess for that fight.

He still very nearly killed all three of us. Fortunately, Lydia had set up an ambush in advance, and we had help. He surrendered.

But we still barely scratched him. And we knew he’d probably escape imprisonment within weeks.

Frankly speaking, there’s no way to contain someone like him. And killing him would have only drawn the ire of older, more powerful Children of the Tyrant.

This Saffron…

Even if he’s at Sterling’s level, I don’t know if I could handle him on my own.

And if he’s anything closer to Aayara and Jacinth?

I shook my head.

I don’t think the entire country of Edria, including all our visitors, could handle Aayara.

I’m not sure all of Kaldwyn could.

We’re just going to have to hope that they’re not directly involved, and that this “Saffron” is either working through mortal agents or weaker than Sterling.

Otherwise…

I let my thoughts trail off.

<I’ve never seen you worry about a potential fight against a strong opponent like this.>

It’s not that I’m afraid of fighting a vae’kes on my own. There’s a part of me that would relish that opportunity. But…you don’t fight vae’kes without collateral damage.

And like I said, even if I somehow managed to hurt or kill one, it would very likely just make the situation worse.

Even with the full resources of the Paladins of Tae’os, containing a vae’kes didn’t seem plausible. So, if I can’t kill him, and I can’t imprison him…what options do I have? Scare him off, maybe? Make it so continuing to fight isn’t worthwhile, somehow?

I’ll…have to think about it.

But really, the best case here is to avoid fighting the vae’kes. Which is, of course, probably why Taer’vys is so worried.

If whoever hit Ravenshade wanted her dead, and we’ve just interfered with that…we’re all targets. And, of course, Ravenshade herself is still a target.

We’re going to need to be ready for that.

<Ready, how?>

…I don’t know.

But if we’re lucky, maybe Ravenshade will have a few ideas on where to start.

***

When we got back, Ravenshade was still unconscious. Some quick translation from Reika told me that she was in a medically-induced sleep and would probably stay that way throughout the night.

Fai was absolutely exhausted. I expressed my sincere gratitude as best I can, which he acknowledged, and then he informed me through Reika that he was going back to bed.

I didn’t blame him.

I did, however, ask him to sleep in the same room with someone who was going to stay awake. After some brief translation, he got the idea that assassins might come for revenge, and we discussed some options.

Ultimately, we woke everyone in the building, explained the situation in brief terms without giving any indication of a potential vae’kes being involved, and broke sleeping into shifts.

I took Ravenshade back to my own bedroom, tucked her into my bed, and sat down with a book. It wasn’t long before I heard a knock.

Grandmother Iron stood outside the door.

I felt a pang of guilt when I saw her. “I’m sorry for bringing trouble to your door.”

She scoffed. “No. Do not be. Assassins coming here is, perhaps, the most predicable part of this entire tournament. Every single person here has been prepared for that. If they strike, they will not find us unprepared.”

“I…don’t think she was hit by the same assassins that came after you.”

“It matters not. If we are now sheltering four finalists under this roof, that serves only to our benefit. We are stronger united. As long as any of you manages to reach Edria Song and fight her in earnest, that will be a victory.”

“Even if we can’t beat her?”

Grandmother Iron smiled. “Having some doubts after your bout?”

“Not exactly. I think I’d actually have a chance in the tournament environment. But…what is your goal, really? You have to know that even if one of us beats her, the chances that they’d hand off Diamantine…”

“It isn’t the sword that matters,” she said firmly. “A victory over Edria Song would be symbolic. It would show that the dynasty is not unstoppable. But even without it…you cut her. They have tried to suppress it, but for those who saw, it cannot be unseen. For those who heard, it cannot be unheard.” Her voice quieted, “For that alone, everything has been worth it.”

“Just for one little wound?”

Grandmother Iron looked me straight in the eyes. “Sometimes one wound, left to bleed long enough, is all it takes for someone to die.”

***

When Grandmother Iron left, I closed the door and went back to reading. My mind continued to race, so focusing on the book was difficult. Dawn talked to me for a time, before finally I switched books and read her a bed-time story in my mind. Eventually, she fell back to sleep.

I switched back to my own book, but it remained difficult to focus. Not just because of the looming concern of a possible midnight attack, but because I remembered that Dawn had accused me of something not too long before.

…Was I even trying to gather the sacred swords?

Twilight’s Edge was literally in my bed, the wielder unconscious. Taking the sword would have been absolutely trivial. It would have been easy to justify in any number of ways, too. That Ravenshade owed me. That I was protecting her by diverting the assassins away from her.

But there wasn’t even a single moment that I seriously considered just taking the sword.

…Why was that?

I didn’t know. It felt wrong, but not necessarily for reasons I could easily articulate, even in my own mind. It wasn’t that I cared about earning the sword by some kind of archaic standards.

Maybe I just couldn’t imagine betraying someone like that, even in a small way.

I didn’t find any clear answers in my mind before morning came and, at last, the eyes of the thief opened wide.

***

Phantom Thief Ravenshade took a moment to assess her surroundings, took a breath, then rolled onto her side to look at me. “…So, I’m alive, then.”

I smirked at her. “Unless you think you’ve been good enough to end up in my bed in the afterlife.”

She quirked an eyebrow. “You think behavior has some influence over where you show up in the spirit world? Huh. That’s a rarity. Old-fashioned.”

“I don’t actually think that, but you’ve been in my bed for hours, and I couldn’t not say anything about it.”

A slight smile crossed her lips. “I’ll imagine you couldn’t stop thinking about it.”

“Purely from a practical standpoint, it’s sort of hard to ignore.” I leaned a little closer. “Would have brought you breakfast, but you know, assassins. Didn’t want to leave you alone.”

“I appreciate that. Did anyone attack last night?”

I shook my head. “Nope. Or, at least, no one got close. We had a couple people scouting outside.”

“We?” She started to sit up, then winced and changed her mind. “Who…?”

“I woke up everyone. Sorry. Had to. Too much of a risk that someone could be kidnapped or killed if I didn’t.”

She grunted, then replied in a resigned tone, “…It’s fine. You…didn’t take off my mask, did you? Or take the sword at any point?”

I shook my head. “You woke up briefly and said something about the sword and tracking, so I figured your mask was blocking a tracking spell on the weapon.”

“I…don’t remember that. But you read me right. Someone is tracking the sword somehow. I don’t know if it’s that they placed a new spell on it somehow, or…”

“Or if it’s just someone who can sense the sacred swords,” I finished for her.

“Right.” She winced. “Wielders aren’t exactly a long list, but it could be one of the others.”

“Was your attacker like, eight feet tall?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“Well, then it wasn’t Dawnsglow.”

Ravenshade snorted. “Fair point. A bit shorter than me, wore all black, fought with sword and dagger. A woman, I think, but I couldn’t be certain. They had a mirage effect around them, like a constant motion blur. Fast. Incredibly fast. Lots of enchanted gear.”

“Hair?”

“Black. Short. Could have been a wig, though. Motion blur made it hard to pick up anything. Eyes looked dark, but I didn’t get a good look.”

“Doesn’t narrow things down much.”

She shook her head. “No, it doesn’t.”

“Except for the height, maybe.” I considered. “You’re very tall, so it doesn’t narrow things a ton, but I think that might take Edria Song and Hannah out of the suspects list.”

She raised an eyebrow at me. “You thought the crown princess might be a suspect?”

“Hey, I try not to dismiss anything out of hand, even if it’s unlikely.”

“I suppose that’s reasonable.” She winced. “Where’s the dagger?”

“Stored safe. I’ll give it to you after you’ve recovered if you want it.”

She considered, then shook her head. “No. Honestly, you should probably just get rid of it. It’s probably being tracked, too.”

I’d considered that already. “Right. I plan to try to reverse that.”

“Don’t. It’s…not worth prolonging this fight. Honestly speaking, I’m lucky I got out of it alive. I’ll give you hard-earned thanks for that and some free advice: don’t get in any deeper.”

“Think it’s a little late for that. Any insights on why they came after you?”

“Plenty. I’ve made a lot of enemies over the years. Not going to list them all.”

“Sure. You happen to find a gemstone on your pillow recently? Or make contact with any followers of the Tyrant in Gold?”

She froze. “…Why would you ask that?”

“The expert who treated you recognized the poison.” That was a vague enough answer that I didn’t think it would get Taer’vys into any further trouble.

Ravenshade cursed, then said, “I should go.”

“I don’t think you should. We handled the surface-level injuries and treated the poison, but I’ve been told you’ll probably take days to recover, maybe weeks.”

She cursed again. “Even more reason I should go. I’m vulnerable here, and so are you.”

“…You know there are four finalists under this roof, right?”

“Four…? Hm.” She seemed to recalculate. “That’s not bad.”

I nodded. “Let me send someone to grab us some breakfast. Take your time to think about what your next moves are. Recover a bit. And if you’re willing to share a little more of what you know, I can help you plan.”

“…I really don’t think that’s a good idea. I appreciate everything you’re doing. Honestly, I don’t deserve it. I still haven’t given you the last favor I owe you.”

“Now might not be a bad time for that.”

She grimaced. “You may be right. Let me eat and talk to you about our current situation. Then…maybe we’ll try your little experiment.”

***

Walter was kind enough to fetch us some food. He gave me an odd look as he departed, but didn’t say anything. Then, once again, Ravenshade and I were mostly alone. Dawn was with me, but still asleep.

Ravenshade was ravenous. She devoured a bowl of fruit, a croissant, and a plate of scrambled eggs. After washing it down with some juice, she finally looked a little more awake.

I ate my breakfast steak a little more slowly, continuing to munch on it as I prompted Ravenshade to start explaining. “So. I’m guessing you went after Diamantine?”

She scoffed. “Not yet, I didn’t.”

I frowned. “You’re actually planning on doing it, then? Isn’t that a little…”

“Obvious?” She smirked. “Of course. It’s what everyone expects. I couldn’t possibly disappoint everyone by not even trying, could I?”

I sighed. “…But this wasn’t that job?”

She shook her head. “Nope. Wasn’t the right timing. I have some prerequisite work to complete before taking a shot at Diamantine. Won’t say more on that, don’t want you getting caught in it if I still try it at all.”

“Second thoughts?”

“Uh, yeah. Nearly dying puts some things in perspective. I might enjoy a bit of theater, but I’m a realist. Things get too hot, I’m out.” She pointed at my fruit bowl. “You going to eat that?”

I passed it over. “Go ahead.”

“Thanks.” She plucked a fruit wedge out of the bowl.

“So, if it wasn’t Diamantine, then…”

She grimaced. “It was still a target under palace security, but nothing as heavy as the sword. It was a scythe.”

I felt my blood run cold. “A scythe,” I repeated.

“Yeah. Some guy was willing to trade me one of the amulets for Twilight’s Edge for it. Seemed like he had a special interest.”

I briefly set down my fork. “…I don’t suppose you could describe this guy?”

“I mean, I could, but he was obviously in disguise. Hair was bleach white. Had a thing for Crowns games.”

My mind flashed to a night that I couldn’t remember. “At the tavern. While I was talking to Taer’vys. That was you making the deal to steal the scythe.”

She blinked. “You recognized me? Usually, my disguise skills are better, that’s a little embarrassing.”

I shook my head. “No, I didn’t recognize you at the time, but I did sense a sacred sword nearby. And given what you just told me…”

She winced. “Stupid sword sense. I should have known it would give me away.” She sighed. “This thing is getting to be more trouble than it’s worth.”

“I don’t suppose you’re willing to part with it?”

Ravenshade laughed. “Not likely. Trouble just drives us closer together, you know?”

“That sounds like a dangerous way to look at life.”

She raised an eyebrow, which I could barely discern due to the mask. “And you’re not living dangerously?”

“You have a point.” I grinned. “Okay, let’s back up. You went after the scythe. Do you think whoever attacked you was with the royal guard?”

She shook her head. “No. I had to disable a bunch of security measures to get through. My best guess is that they followed me in. They hit me when I was in the middle of disarming a trap, and I’d already blown through some of my mana on disabling other forms of security.”

“So, they were probably watching you from a distance before that?”

She grimaced. “Possible. I hate to admit it, but they really caught me with my pants down. That’s not something that usually happens.”

“How do you think they pulled it off?”

She snorted. “If you think I’m going to give you a list of my weaknesses, you’re not getting that lucky. But I’ll summarize some options. First, if they’ve got the ability to track my sword — which I think they do — they could have just followed that sense. When they noticed me going into a dangerous spot, they took advantage.”

I nodded. “That makes sense. What else?”

“Maybe they were already monitoring the area, planning to go for the scythe on their own. When I came through, they just took advantage of the opening.”

“I can see that, too. But there’s a third option, isn’t there?”

“More than three, but yeah, I see where you’re leaning. You think I got sold out by my contact?”

I nodded. “Seems very plausible. If he has one of the amulets for Twilight’s Edge…”

“Then maybe my sword was his actual target. Or he wants both the sword and the scythe. Plausible.” She bit into another fruit.

Something connected in my mind.  “The amulets. They’re connected to the swords. Could they be used to track each other?”

“Yep. Was hoping you wouldn’t notice. Gonna make my life a lot harder the more people who figure that one out.”

I nodded slowly, a better picture forming in my head. “Okay. So, either that guy sold you out and handed off his amulet to the assassin for the job, or whoever this assassin is might just have one of the other amulets.”

“Seems so. I could try to reverse the trick, but after what happened last time…” She shook her head. “Don’t know if I could outfight that assassin on my best day.”

“Do you want help?”

She slowed her chewing, seeming to consider that. “No. You’re like a ludicrous beacon of light.”

“Even with the mask?”

“The mask would help, but…honestly speaking, you’re a liability on a stealth mission, even with it. You’ve got punch, I’ll give you that, but the mask doesn’t do a thing for being physically noticed. Everything about you is loud.”

I wasn’t sure if I had any counter to that argument, so I didn’t really try. It wasn’t like I considered myself some kind of stealth expert. She probably knew what she was talking about. “Then you’re going to go after them alone?”

“What? Goddess above, no. I’m going to hope the scythe was what they really wanted and hide like a rat until this is over.” She laughed. “There’s no way they’re not going to be ready if I try some kind of counterattack, and I’m not in any shape for it.”

I winced. “Just letting them do what they want seems like a risk in itself.”

“’Course. But I’m not like you. Going all-out attack isn’t going to win me any battles. I’m better at playing longer games. The more I can drag this out, the more information I can get, and the more tools I’ll have to eventually get the upper hand.”

I could see the logic there, I just didn’t like it. “One last thing. The scythe. Did they get it?”

She shrugged. “Don’t know. I’d made it almost there before they attacked though, so…pretty likely. Why? What’s so important about that thing?”

I closed my eyes. “…This is going to be a bit of a long story.”

***

Somehow, she kept packing away more food while I told her about Xiaofan, the scythe, and even Rendalir.

When I finished, she stared blankly at me. “That’s a lot to digest. More than this breakfast, even.”

“I know.” I took a breath. “But it’s true.”

She shrugged. “Wasn’t saying I thought you were lying, it’s just a lot, you know?”

“Yep.”

She took a breath. “So, that’s why you were asking me about the Sun Eater and all that when we ran into each other a while back?”

“Sure is.”

Ravenshade winced. “Wouldn’t have taken the scythe job if I knew it was involved in…all that. Can’t say my hands have ever been clean, but I’m not the type to play with folks that risk innocents. Gotta have some standards.”

I was pleased to hear her say that, even if I wasn’t sure if she was being honest. “So, you can see why I’m concerned about someone else having the scythe.”

“Yeah, ‘course. You going after it?”

I nodded. “Yeah. Probably right after the finals. Do you want to help?”

“Nope.”

I expected more of an explanation, but she just left it at that. “Even knowing the consequences if I fail?”

“Said I wouldn’t have taken the job if I knew about it. Didn’t say I felt like cleaning up after what happened. Might feel a little bad, but my life is my life, you know? Goin’ after the scythe has the same problem as trying to track the amulet. Puts me in a matchup I’m not ready for. You shouldn’t try, either. You could go tell that royal guard you’re so fond of, make her handle it.”

“I’m sure she’s already on it. Unless, of course, she’s the assassin.”

“Hannah is too tall, remember?”

I shrugged. “You admitted illusions could be involved. Or maybe she’s just working with them.”

“That one is definitely possible. Don’t think it’s as likely as white-haired guy being our problem, but yeah, it could be. Honestly, could be both. Shame. Can’t trust anyone these days,” concluded one of the world’s most notorious thieves.

“Right. I’ll look into it. Won’t do anything too drastic. You going to stay here for a while?”

“I’ll thank you kindly for the sleep and the breakfast, but no. I’ve got bolt holes of my own that I trust more. Think I’ll head out as soon as I’m done repaying that favor I owe you.”

I nodded. “Is it time, then?”

“Let’s get this over with. I’ll admit, I’m a little curious.”

I grinned. “Let me wake her up.”

***

Gently, with directed thoughts, I managed to rouse Dawn from her slumber.

<…Morning.> There was a pause, then she added. <Oh, I see my nemesis is here.>

The shadow sword or her wielder?

<Why not both?>

I grinned. Don’t be like that. She’s ready to repay her favor.

<Oh, so you need me to go spend some time with Rei while you two…>

Not that kind of favor, Dawn. I sighed. This one is about you, if you’re interested.

<Not that into girls, if I’m being honest. Maybe it’d be different if I had a human body, but right now, I’m sticking with wealthy and handsome princes. Maybe kings, as long as they’re young ones.>

Still not that kind of favor.

<Oh, fine. What’s this about, then?>

It’s about answering a question we’ve had for a long time. Would you like to try to talk to one of your siblings, Dawn?

There was a pause.

<…You’re not going to let her take me, are you?>

Of course not. We talked about doing a brief trade, but I knew agreeing was a terrible idea. Instead, I did her a favor…and in exchange, she’s going to loan me Twilight’s Edge for five minutes. She’ll be here to watch, and we can’t leave, but it…

<Yes, yes, yes! I can’t believe you got her to…come on, what are you waiting for? Let’s do this!>

I grinned. “She’s ready.”

“Finally. Late sleeper, that one.” Slowly and cautiously, Ravenshade drew the jian out of the scabbard at her side, reversed the sword, and handed it to me hilt-first. “You’re sure she doesn’t want to talk to me first?”

Dawn?

<Nopenopenope. Phantom thief.>

I nodded. “She’s afraid you’ll run off with her.”

“Eminently reasonable, really.” Ravenshade sighed. “Tell me if she changes her mind?”

“Will do.”

And with that, I accepted the hilt of Twilight’s Edge.

Instantly, I felt the power within the weapon flowing into my hand. In spite of being shadow-aligned, it didn’t feel like the opposite of Dawn. Instead, it felt…similar, just shifted a little bit. Like a twin with the opposite hair color.

Sorry, I know that twins are a bit of a taboo subject for your culture, but you get the idea.

I felt a connection, too. Not like the bond I’d built with Dawnbringer, but I was almost certain there was a spirit of some kind within the weapon. It just felt…off, somehow. Distant.

Like it was at the end of a dark and ominous tunnel, one I couldn’t sense the end of.

With limited time, I immediately sent my thoughts toward the weapon.

Can you hear me?

After a moment, I thought I heard something in reply.

>…hear…me…<

I frowned, then processed the sound. It wasn’t a new voice: it was my own, echoing back, strangely distorted.

Perhaps that was a form of a reply, if the entity within it couldn’t communicate with words of their own. I’d heard of stranger things, and a shadow entity copying a message was eminently plausible.

…Just not very helpful.

I didn’t get a clear reply, just an echo. Brace yourself.

<Got it.>

Then, I pressed the hilts of the two weapons together.

<Uh, hello? Twilight’s Edge? It’s me, Dawn. Uh, Dawnbringer. Your sister?>

>…Dawn…bringer…sister…<

I thought I heard a gasp from the sword. <They’re in there! They’re in there, somewhere!>

>…in…there…somewhere…<

I frowned. Do you think that echo is their natural mode of communication?

<No, hold on.>

>…hold…on…<

Dawn flashed for a moment, glowing brighter. Not quite at Golden Dawn level, but bright. Ravenshade groaned and raised a hand to cover her eyes.

<…It’s…hm. Can you get a look at the runes on the surface of the sword?>

Sure. I pulled the sword away from Dawn for a moment, lifting it and causing Ravenshade to inch back a step. “Sorry. Not attacking. Looking at the runes.”

“Ah. Go ahead. Just a bit skittish right now.”

I nodded to Ravenshade. “Dawn, do you recognize these?”

<Yeah. I mean, I’ve never really gotten a good look, but Rei read me a bunch of books about the swords. And they might not be accurate, but…ugh. It’s what I thought.>

Meaning?

<There are too many runes.>

I blinked. Too many? You mean…someone modified the sword?

<Yep. Look at the style of the ones near the bottom. It’s subtle, but they weren’t carved in the same way as the originals.>

I couldn’t tell much from a visual inspection, but sending my metal sense into the sword gave me a better picture. I could perceive that the method of carving was distinct. There were six large runes and a couple lines of script that had been made in a similar fashion, reshaping the metal directly through magic similar to my own. Three new runes had been carved into the metal. Not with an etching rod, though. The metal of Twilight’s Edge had been cut with something implausibly sharp.

Something like my own sword’s cutting aura, in fact.

<You don’t think…Keras…>

It’s possible. Maybe my…maybe the God of Swords is the one who did this. Or some other, previous wielder of the Dominion Breaker.

Dawn went silent for a moment.

I’m sorry, Dawn. I don’t want to hurt you. Maybe I should…

<No. I made my choice. Even if you could do something like this to me, you won’t. I trust you.>

I took a deep breath. I hope I’m worthy of it.

<You are. Now, enough of that. We’ve got limited time, let’s use it. We still don’t know exactly what those runes are. Let’s see if we can figure it out.>

I raised a hand, touching each of the three new runes and trying to get a sense for the magic inside. This was tougher than it sounded: the weapon was shadow-aligned and, even being held in my hand, it resisted any form of attempt to extend my senses into it.

After a minute or so, I felt like I’d gotten an impression of them, but only barely. One was either shadow-aligned or a dominion linked to shadow. Another was linked to perception or something similar. The last I couldn’t figure out at all.

I took a minute to grab a parchment and write all the runes down, both the originals and the new ones.

“You’re almost out of time there. What’s with the scribbles?” Ravenshade asked.

Can I tell her?

<You know what? Sure. Maybe she’ll let us…do something. We need to do something, Keras.>

I nodded in agreement. “Dawn and I think that the three runes on the bottom aren’t part of the original weapon. They’re new. I can’t tell how new. My best guess is that they’re keeping the sword from talking the way Dawn can.”

Ravenshade frowned at that. “Don’t like the sound of that. I know the temples are supposed to be able to reforge the swords, but…”

“Yeah, I don’t think this is that. This seems more…human.” I tightened my jaw. “I want to remove them.”

I said it before I’d even heard Dawn’s thoughts on the subject, but I didn’t have to. I could feel her agreement.

She’d been stuck in that rock for decades, unable to move. The idea of being trapped in the sword itself, unable to communicate properly…it was almost worse, in her mind.

“No.” Ravenshade shook her head. “Respectfully, you’re just guessing. Can’t risk you breaking the thing because of some hunch. And if someone strong enough to change the Twilight’s Edge decided to make a few marks on it…well, maybe we should find the reason for that, before we go around trying to tweak it.”

Rationally, she had an excellent point, but every fiber of my being was telling me something had to be done. “Let me keep the sword and research the runes, then.”

She snorted. “Not likely. Even if it might get rid of some of my headaches to hand that thing off for a while, I’ve gone through way too much to let go of the sword now. Sorry. Time’s up. Hand it back.”

My hand tightened around the grip. I hesitated.

<Keras…>

>…Keras…<

I shut my eyes.

“Don’t make a mistake, Wielder of Dawnbringer.” Ravenshade took a step closer.

I took a deep breath.

<…It’s okay.>

>…okay…<

Another breath. In. Out.

I unclenched my hand, flipped the sword, then handed it back to her. “Take the sword. But I’m going to do some research on those runes. I want to meet you again in a few weeks, when the tournament is over. If they’re what I think they are, we should remove them.”

“I don’t even know if I’m going to be here in a few weeks.”

“Then before you leave, visit me.” I took a breath. “Please. Call it a second favor for healing and housing you last night.”

She wrinkled her nose. “…No promises.” She took the sword back, sheathed it, and then turned away. “But you did save me. I repay my debts.”

I thought I heard a faint echo of a voice in my mind as she left.

>…save…me…<

That echo played in my mind long after thief faded from sight.

***

With only one day before the first stage of the finals, Reika and I had precious little time for any extra activities, so we had to prioritize.

I took my list of the runes, made an extra copy of the three bottom ones, and dropped that shortened list off with Jelani. He assured me he’d find their functions as quickly as possible, for the right price. I paid him and left.

After that, I met up with a slowly-waking Reika, filled her in on what had happened with Ravenshade, cleaned up, and discussed going to see Anabelle Farren at the address I’d been given.

“Not today,” Reika said. “She said to surprise her, right? Today would be too obvious.”

I frowned. “…I’m not sure we’re going to have a good opportunity to surprise her before the end of the tournament.”

“We’ll come up with something. Or we won’t, and we’ll snag her right after the tournament is over.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you want your attunement as soon as possible to improve your odds of winning?”

“Pfft. Like I need an attunement to win.” She rolled her eyes. “And it’s probably going to be Quartz, right? I don’t think it’d even help.”

“I’m not sure we can assume anything with an attunement you get is going to be normal. She might not be able to give you one at all.”

“Right, right. That’s another reason to wait. If she gives me an attunement and it doesn’t work properly…” Reika winced. “That might make things a little awkward for the finals.”

“Fair. Okay. But let’s reassess after this round? Even if you don’t want the attunement, I’d like to visit her soon for Dawn’s sake.”

“Yeah, that makes sense. When does she want to go?”

I shrugged. “Not sure. I’ll ask her when she wakes up.”

Later, when Dawn was awake, I did ask her. She concurred with Reika’s assessment that we should wait until we found “thematically appropriate timing”. I didn’t agree, but the visit was on her behalf, so I deferred to her judgment.

With my original plans for the day obliterated, I went with Reika to get brunch, then we headed back to the Study of Iron for some last-minute training.

In the evening, I restocked my potions, bringing my supply back up to a full set of six. I also made sure to check over my equipment and get everything repaired, or, in the case of my Bladebreaker Bracer, just returned to its original form.

After all that, I had a late-night meeting with Taer’vys, where I asked him about the white-haired man. He told me to “never ask about that man” and sent me away.

…Which, given that he’d been willing to talk about Saffron, probably wasn’t a good sign.

With all that done, I headed back to the Study of Iron. Reika and I had a late night of reading together. Grandmother Iron set up watch rotations for the evening in case an assassin decided to pay us a visit, insisting that Reika, Walter, and I get as much sleep as possible.

That didn’t work out. I couldn’t shut down, I had too much on my mind.

I was exhausted when morning came, but excited.

It was finally time for the final round to begin.

CHAPTER XXV – DRAGON WARRIOR

I had a position of honor in the stands. A private box, only two boxes down from where Edria Song herself was seated.

The emperor was present, too, but on the opposite side of the arena. Well, supposedly. There were curtains covering the entirety of the imperial box, which would only be withdrawn temporarily when the emperor deigned to speak to the audience.

I suspected putting the crown princess and the emperor on opposite sides had a couple of purposes.

First, it allowed them to have places of honor and prestige on both sides of the arena, allowing for more “valuable” seating positions. The top fighters were over with the crown princess, whereas high nobility got to be near the emperor. It made sense.

Second, there was potentially a security component. Putting all the royals in one place might have been a tempting target for assassins. I wasn’t sure on that one, though, given precisely how powerful the royals were. Honestly, they might have been safer together.

Finally, the curtains around the emperor’s box implied the potential presence of valued guests that preferred to remain hidden. That allowed the imagination of spectators to run wild. I was no exception.

I spent much of the intro to the match wondering if there were visages beyond those curtains.

If I could reach one of the visages, maybe I could talk to them about meeting Selys. It’s not my job, exactly, but it might save Lydia and the others some time when they get here.

…assuming they’re even coming.

I tried not to think on that too much. The strangeness of the situation with Velthryn bothered me, but I still needed some solid answers before I got too worried about it.

Instead, I looked forward, considering my plans.

Even if I didn’t win the tournament, I intended to use my performance as the means to get an introduction to one or more of the visages if possible. Even if they weren’t physically watching from behind those curtains, they’d likely hear about the results. That could be used to my advantage.

Of course, Kerivas is sponsoring one of my opponents, so I may not make a great impression if I have to beat him. Maybe Melkyr will approve of seeing Kerivas’ candidate losing?

I didn’t quite have a handle on inter-visage politics yet, but if they were anything like the gods of my own homeland, I suspected that beating the champion of one of them would probably gain me good will with any visages in opposition to that one. I didn’t know if Melkyr and Kerivas were like that or not, but I suspected I’d find out soon enough.

I turned to my left, toward the Phantom Thief Ravenshade’s box. Empty. Or, at least, visibly appearing to be empty.

Maybe’s she’s invisible in there, but…

<It’s more likely she’s still hiding. Or, you know, making her move on Diamantine.>

Yeah.

She seemed like she was still planning to go for Diamantine eventually, which seemed absurd, given her condition. I doubted she’d try it so soon, but I couldn’t say for sure.

To my right was a box holding my other fellow wielder, Ishyeal Dawnsglow. He gave me a curt nod when he saw me looking in his direction, then turned back toward the arena proper.

I still wanted to talk to him more about Akadi, but there hadn’t been a good time, and he’d made it pretty clear he didn’t want to associate with me. That was his choice, but I found it both inconvenient and disappointing.

I glanced around some more, picking out the locations of my other opponents and a few other people I recognized. The one place I wasn’t looking was the arena.

<You’re nervous.>

Maybe.

<Definitely. Don’t you have faith in our daring dragon?>

I’ve never been accused of having faith in much of anything. Confidence, though…I have some of that. Rei is very capable. It’s not her fighting skill I’m worried about.

<You think Akadi is going to attack while we’re in the arena?>

It matches up with what he did with the Battle Royale. If anything, even more of the fighters are concentrated here than before. If he decides to hit somewhere else on the island while everyone is collected here, it could be a slaughter.

<And you think you can find him by looking at the crowd?>

No. Almost definitely not. He could be in any sort of body by this point.

<Then why are you looking?>

Because I can’t do nothing.

<Even heroes need a break every once in a while, you know. Can’t you just enjoy the show?>

…I’ll try.

And I did try. But the echoes of my last failure rang louder than the announcer’s words.

It was only when Reika stepped into the ring that I finally managed to force myself to focus.

***

I grinned as Reika appeared on the display crystal in an area that was almost familiar. She stood in the center of a massive cavern, with water dripping from the ceiling and stalagmites jutting out of the floor.

<Rei’s cave was comfier.>

I nodded in agreement. This particular cavern looked a little too damp and chilly to be comfortable, at least in this section. Admittedly, there were fewer razor bats, though. At least as far as I could see.

The other half of my display crystal showed her opponent: Alexander Theas, a look of disgruntlement on his face as he examined his own surroundings.

Before I could process much else, the announcer’s voice chimed in.

“People of Edria. Honored guests. It is with great pleasure that I bring you the first match of the finals for the Tournament of the Sacred Sword.”

The crowd exploded in cheers and applause.

After a moment, the announcer continued. “Our first combatant today is Alexander Theas, famed Valian duelist. Shaper. Swordmaster. He commands two powerful fighting attunements, a host of magical items, and some say even the ancient powers of a crystal from the Unclaimed Lands.”

“His opponent is Reika Dawn, a mysterious Shapeshifter. She is said to hold a bond to a legendary creature long believed to have disappeared from the world — a dragon.”

In spite of the inaccuracies of the statement about Reika, I was still pleased to hear the “oohs” and “ahs” from the crowd in response.

The announcer continued. “The combatants were given options on which arena to select. They chose the Ancient Cavern, a battleground similar to the cave system used in the fourth round. Unlike a traditional arena, there are no out-of-bounds locations here: our combatants are free to explore at their own peril. There are, of course, dangers in these caverns — monsters, traps, and environmental hazards. The battle will continue until one fighter surrenders or is incapacitated.”

Reika was practically bouncing with excitement. She scanned from side-to-side, seemingly trying to decide which side passage to explore first.

Alex tapped his foot, apparently impatient for the announcements to finish.

The announcer had only a few more words. “Since the combatants are starting in separate locations, we will skip the traditional bow. Ready…begin!”

Reika smiled for a moment, then declared, “Ready or not, here I come!” In the next moment, she was off in a burst of speed, rushing down one of the cavern’s tunnels.

On the other half of the crystal, Alex had a very different approach. He snapped his fingers and three duplicates of himself appeared next to him. “Split up and check the tunnels,” the original Alex instructed them.

“We know the plan, we’re you,” one of them replied dryly. Then they rushed off in different directions.

Ugh. Simulacra. That’s going to be a problem.

They weren’t the only problem. While the duplicates split off to explore, the original Alexander Theas got to work. He conjured a floating platform to stand on in the center of his chamber, then began to rapidly create phantasmal weapons and traps at an alarming rate. Within a minute, his chamber had dozens of floating objects in it — everything from swords and axes to more esoteric designs like swinging pendulums.

The floating weapons reminded me of Keldyn Andys, a swordsman from my homeland with a similar conjuring ability, but the scale was far beyond anything Andys could have managed. And, of course, Alex was far more flexible in the creation of his constructs.

Not sure if he has the same kind of fine control that Keldyn eventually managed, though. It’s likely that huge groups of objects like these need to have set paths for their movement, or that he can only control a limited number of them at any given time.

As I watched, most of the weapons in the room seemed to be drifting around in set patterns, indicating that he’d given them some kind of commands when he created them. That might have implied some kind of spirit magic used in their creation, but that wasn’t entirely surprising. It seemed like a lot of attunements had components of spirit magic utilized in their functions that the users weren’t even aware of.

I couldn’t follow where his simulacra had run off to — the crystal only showed the original Alexander and Reika. The latter was still zooming down cavern tunnels at high speed.

As I switched to watching Reika, she hopped over a slightly discolored section of the cavern floor with an “eep”, narrowly avoiding a set of spikes that shot up from the ground as she passed over it. She continued running until she reached a larger chamber ringed with bones.

As she paused in the center of the chamber, the bones began to shift and rattle of their own accord. Rather than rush down one of the two remaining tunnels, Reika paused to watch with wide eyes as the bones levitated, swirling together in the air just above her. As seconds passed, a massive skull took shape from splintered shards, followed by a tremendous serpentine body.

The bone serpent rattled in the air, producing oddly musical chimes as it moved, then lifted its head upward and let out a tremendous roar.

“Oh no!” Reika gazed upward at the monster. “I love it!” She opened her arms. “Can I hug you, Mister Bone Snake?”

<…Yep, that’s Rei alright.>

The serpent turned its head down toward Reika, then jingled and let out some kind of growl.

“…Is that a no?” She frowned, putting her arms down. “Is it the name? What about Mr. Bones? Roary McSnek?”

The bone serpent lunged. Reika jumped to the side without difficulty, shaking her head sadly. An instant later, she flipped around and grabbed a glowing sword out of the air just before it pierced her though the back. She groaned, then turned back toward the snake. “We’ll discuss this more later.”

She hurled the phantasmal sword toward one of the doorways. As the crystal’s vantage point shifted, I could see one of the copies of Alexander Theas standing there, conjuring a shield to block the hurled sword. The sword glanced off the shield, then turned back around in mid-air and shot back toward Reika.

She danced backward, nearly running into the bone serpent. A series of glowing spikes appeared on the ground right behind her. She reacted near-instantly, a burst of force carrying her over the spikes, then pressed her hands together to catch a phantasmal axe as it appeared in the air in front of her.

Reika swung the axe into the floating sword as it came back for a second pass, knocking the sword out of the air. Alex simply waved and conjured two more weapons — a spear and a glaive — then sent those flying at her as well.

Reika jumped to smash those new projectiles out of the air, but as she descended, a pair of knives flashed at her from behind. She sensed those and spun, deflecting them, but landed with her back to Alex. He conjured four glowing daggers and sent them flashing forward.

Not at her, but at the bone serpent.

Reika let out a gasp. Wings burst from her back, then she hurled herself right in the path of the flying daggers. She managed to spin around to deflect two of them, but the other two impacted her sides, leaving shallow cuts. Fortunately, with Reika’s resilience, neither wound seemed severe.

The bone serpent reeled back, seemingly in confusion.

“You’re…okay.” Reika smiled at the serpent, then lowered herself back to the ground, turning to Alex and lifting her stolen axe. “That was rude.”

“Rude? I was just trying to clear an obstacle out of the room!”

“He’s just minding his own business! He’s not even attacking right now. Be. Nice.”

“Nice isn’t exactly my style.” Alex conjured another handful of knives. “Not a winning strategy, really.”

“You’d be surprised.” She lifted her stolen axe, glowering at him. “I’ll show you.”

There was a crack as Reika’s wings carried her forward in a tremendous burst of momentum. As she shot forward, she raised her axe high.

“Wrong move.”

Alex snapped his fingers. In an instant, Reika was fully surrounded by a cube of energy and moving too fast to stop herself. She slammed into one of the interior walls of the cube with an “oof”, bouncing off the wall without much damage, but with a look of alarm as she processed the cube shrinking around her.

With a look of frustration, she growled, then vanished in a burst of mist. The mist pressed against the side of the cube, then, with surprising difficulty, shifted through it.

When Reika reappeared in solid form on the other side of the cube, she was forced to rapidly dodge a handful of other conjured projectiles, but they weren’t the likely cause of her bothered expression.

Dawn said what I was already thinking.

<His cube didn’t stop her from passing through it, but if it displayed any resistance at all, that means they have some kind of spiritual component. His conjured weapons might be able to cut her in her spirit form, too.>

I didn’t like the sound of that, and from the look on her face, Reika wasn’t thrilled, either. Being able to go into an incorporeal state to avoid attacks was her best countermeasure to…well, almost everything, really. It was one of her strongest techniques as a whole. Alex hadn’t invalidated that entirely, but if she could still be harmed in that state, it hurt her odds significantly.

I wondered if that was just a part of how Shaper constructs worked, but I didn’t think so. I was pretty sure I’d seen Reika pass harmlessly through them before. Alex did have two attunements, though, and any number of magical items…maybe even a crystal mark from one of the shrines in the Unclaimed Lands, too. There were several things about his abilities that remained unknown and presented dangers.

I’d underestimated him. From the look of it, Reika might have, too.

But she wasn’t done yet. Not even close.

As the weapons shot past her, Reika punched her fists together. In a flash of light and white smoke, nearly every bit of her skin was covered in thick white scales.

While Alex’s floating weapons came in for their next pass, Reika inhaled.

As usual, her breath attack took time to prepare. Too much time, it seemed, for her to finish her attack before Alex’s swarm of weapons could reach her.

Fortunately, a helpful snake was there to give her a gentle nudge, just out of the pathway of the flying blades.

The flashing blades course corrected quickly after the bone snake shoved Reika to the side, but it had bought Reika all the time she needed. Alex took a step back as he saw white mist gathering in Reika’s jaws, but he wasn’t fast enough.

Reika exhaled. A hand-width burst of light emitted from her open jaws, blasting straight through Alex’s shield and punching a hole in his chest.

He coughed once, falling to his knees. Then Reika was rushing forward, ignoring the still-attacking weapons and grabbing him by the collar. Blood poured from his wound.

“Oh, nonono! I…didn’t think that would hurt you so much! Surrender, quick!”

Alex let out a laugh, half-choking on his own blood. “Nothing…to…worry about.”

Then he simply vanished.

Reika gasped at her now-empty grip. The phantasmal weapons around her faded.

The bone snake behind her reared up, but didn’t strike.

Reika had a brief moment of panic, then let out a gasp of realization. “Oh!” Her eyes flashed white. “Silly Alex! Fakes are no fun for anyone!”

Her eyes narrowed on the spot where the simulacrum had been, then her lips twisted into a fang-filled grin. “…And you won’t fool me again. I’ll see you soon.”

<Her spirit sight…she can probably see a trail between the simulacra and the original Alex, similar to how she found Frenemy’s spiritual energy.>

And she can probably use that same sense to tell the simulacra apart from the original. Not a bad plan. I wonder if I could learn to do the same…

Reika turned back to the large chamber. “Sorry, Roary McSnek. I have to go now. Thank you for helping me. I wish I could take you with me, but the tunnels aren’t big enough for you.” She frowned and turned away, wiping absently at her eyes.

The bone serpent slowly lowered itself to the cavern floor, then it let out a low growl. It sounded almost like the serpent was saying something, but I couldn’t understand it. Reika gasped, then rushed back into the chamber to wrap her arms around its head in a hug. “You’re a good boy. Thank you.”

Then with that, she was off, rushing to follow Alex’s trail.

***

“Spiritual perception,” Alex number one groaned. “That’s going to be a problem.”

“She can be overwhelmed,” Alex number two replied. “She’s not invincible.”

“Closer, now that she has her scales on. We’ll need to bring out some of the fancier toys,” Alex number three contributed.

Alex number four was silent. He seemed like the stoic type.

All of them were gathered in the chamber where Alex had started the match. They’d consolidated into one location after Reika had been found and engaged the first simulacrum in a skirmish.

Now, they waited, hundreds of floating weapons at the ready.

<It’s going to be really difficult for her to get around all of those weapons and traps, isn’t it?>

I shook my head as I watched Reika skid to a halt not far from the room. She was out of sight, and the various incarnations of Alex Theas didn’t seem like they’d seen her yet. She must have sensed the end of the spiritual trail approaching.

Actually, it’s going to be super easy. Barely an inconvenience.

<Oh, really?>

Watch.

Reika’s form shifted into mist — and then she sank into the ground.

She was using a similar tactic to what she’d used when I’d been fighting Muramasa. They expected her to come in through one of the many tunnels — she didn’t.

Moments later, she simply burst through the floor in the center of the room, solidifying in mid-air and exhaling straight in the direction of the original Alexander Theas.

It was a solid attack, but Alex was well-prepared. From outside of the room, she couldn’t have seen how many layers of defenses he’d put in place. Her breath attack blasted through three floating shields and two layers of walls before finally sputtering out when it hit his phantasmal suit of armor.

Then, in a moment, the tide was reversed.

“Go.” Four copies of Alex pointed in Reika’s direction.

Hundreds of weapons followed their commands.

“Eep!” Reika shot straight back toward the floor, shifting into mist as she descended into the ground. The weapons following her impacted as they hit the ground, bouncing off. Partially spiritual or not, they were apparently still mostly solid.

I breathed a sigh of relief, but it was short-lived.

“Fan out,” the original Alex commanded. The others moved to tunnel entrances, bringing tides of weapons with them.

When Reika emerged from the ground, one of them was waiting for her. She shot backward rapidly as she emerged, but not quickly enough to avoid the tide of weapons entirely. A handful of floating weapons glanced across her wings before she finished solidifying, leaving bloody marks.

She winced at the injuries, then shot forward to counter attack, only to be stopped by a conjured wall. She arrested her momentum before striking the wall, deflecting weapons with her gauntlets, but took another couple cuts in the process.

After the second impact, a visible barrier flickered into place around her. At least one of her Survival Sigils had activated. That was good in that it meant she’d take less damage from the next few things that hit her, but I wasn’t thrilled that her wounds were severe enough that the sigil had detected them.

With a roar, she spun back toward the copy of Alex, staring at him through the phantasmal wall. Then, she spoke a single word.

“Run.”

The copy of Alex’s eyes widened. He took a few steps back with a look of panic on his face.

<That’s…>

Fear magic. She must have strengthened her bond with Frenemy enough to use it.

Reika burst into mist with a strangely maniacal laugh, then vanished into the floor.

When the copy spun around, Reika was right behind him, grinning. “Better flee faster, I’m here now!”

The copy yelped, stumbling back into his own phantasmal wall. A wall that was now conveniently separating him from his own conjured weapons.

Reika raised a fist — only for a phantasmal whip to wrap around it and yank on her arm. She resisted the pull, but it served as a worthwhile distraction. The phantasmal wall vanished, allowing the copy’s phantom weapons to flash toward her. Reika wrapped herself in her wings as the weapons came in, her survival sigil barrier deflecting most of the barrage, while her wings took a few more cuts in the aftermath. Her second survival sigil activated a moment later.

When she unfurled her wings, light was once again streaming from her mouth.

She exhaled as a terrified copy of Alexander Theas turned and ran. Her blast caught him square in the back, burning a fist-sized hole straight through him.

While that copy vanished, Reika visibly sagged from exhaustion. Using both her mist form and breath weapon multiple times in rapid succession was clearly taking a toll on her — enough that I didn’t think she’d be able to keep fighting the simulacra one at a time and still have enough strength remaining to handle the original.

…He might even be able to conjure more simulacra, I realized. He hasn’t shown any signs of being low on mana at all. I have no idea what his reserves are.

<Maybe Rei should back off and let him run out of mana on his own. Maintaining those simulacra has to have a cost, right?>

I honestly have no idea how they work. But even if that would work…

<There’s no way either of you would go for that kind of plan.>

Reika rushed straight back into the main chamber, dodging a swinging pendulum and blocking a hail of hurtling weapons with her wings. As with before, her survival sigil blocked the worst of it, but failed before the barrage was finished. Her wings sported new wounds, but she managed to get near the center of the chamber, where the true Alex waited. He stood on a floating disc surrounded by three layers of rotating walls and a half-dozen glowing shields.

“Surrender,” Reika commanded as she approached.

Alex laughed and shook his head. “A good try, honestly, but no. It’s a bit shameful that I didn’t equip my simulacra with anti-compulsion items, but I’m obviously wearing them myself. I’m not an amateur.”

Reika growled. “Gonna have to do this the hard way, then.” She raised her fists.

Alex raised an eyebrow. “Haven’t we already been doing this the hard way?”

“Oh, I’ve barely even gotten started.” Reika reached into the bag at her side, pulling out a small object and hurling it toward one of Alex’s copies. The copy dodged the item, then hurled himself to the side again as Reika punched a blast of flame in his direction.

“Fire? Is that it? Practically everyone in this tournament throws fire. And you missed.”

Reika smiled, flying to the side to avoid another cascade of floating weapons. “Did I?” She clapped her hands. “Fireflutter, I choose you!”

There was a loud crack behind the simulacrum as the object Reika had thrown — the egg that she’d thrown — burst apart in a detonation of brilliant white fire. Alex’s copy managed to shield himself, but only from the initial blast.

When the phoenix emerged from the broken egg, it set upon him immediately, screeching as it shot forward in a blazing blur and scratched at him with burning claws. Conjured weapons flashed to intercept the phoenix, but while they scored hits on the blazing bird, they barely seemed to slow it down.

That might have distracted one copy, but Reika was still outnumbered. She turned back toward the original Alex just in time for a massive pendulum to smash into her, hurling her straight across the room and into a cavern wall. She impacted with a loud crunch, dozens of additional weapons crashing into her as she slid down to the arena floor.

When she landed, she was clearly hurt. Seriously hurt. One of her wings was hanging askew, seemingly broken. In spite of her scales, dozens of bleeding wounds covered her body. She pushed herself toward her knees, coughing, and then reached out toward her blazing bird. “Fireflutter, heal!”

The phoenix let out a caw and shot toward her. They almost reached her.

A hole opened in Alexander’s defensive shields. He touched a ring on his right hand and, in a swift motion, hurled a weapon that appeared in mid-air in front of him.

A grey-bladed glaive shot through the air, piercing straight through the phoenix mid-flight and pinning it to the wall. The phoenix let out a final dismayed caw, glowed brighter, then exploded in a burst of blinding white fire.

When the light faded, the bird was gone, leaving only a pile of white ashes. The area around the bird had been obliterated, but none of Alex’s simulacra had been in range of the explosion.

“No!” Reika punched the ground, light flaring around her. “You’re going to pay for that, jerk.”

The true Alexander Theas touched his ring again. The glaive vanished, then reappeared in front of him.

Wraith Cutter, I realized. One of the prizes from the vault. Built for banishing monsters and fighting incorporeal threats. That ring must let him summon it from any location.

If he hits Reika with that while she’s in her spirit form…

I wanted to warn her that she was in real danger, but I couldn’t. Not without cheating, anyway.

<Don’t underestimate Rei. She’s still got a few more tricks up her sleeve.>

I tried to have the same confidence that Dawn did, but when Theas called out for her to surrender, it was sounding like a pretty wise idea to me.

She was in bad shape. The phoenix hadn’t managed to get close enough to heal her injuries before Alex had killed it, and while I knew it was possible for a phoenix to reform from its own ashes, I was under the impression that would take days or weeks. The match would be over long before that point.

What other tricks did she have? Maybe she had some new powers she hadn’t demonstrated, but I didn’t think they’d be substantial. She’d hurled fire, but that was presumably from Ifrit’s ring, rather than any new abilities of her own. Her fear abilities were newish, but she’d already tried them and failed.

I knew she could turn into her full-sized dragon form, of course, but the chamber was littered with weapons and traps. She didn’t have enough space to use that effectively — it would have just made her a bigger target.

I thought she’d reached her limit — but Reika always did love last-minute dramatic reveals.

Alex pointed with his free hand. Weapons shot across the room toward Reika’s kneeling form. Before they reached her, Reika reached into her bag and retrieved another item: a fist-sized translucent crystal.

She closed her eyes. The gemstone flashed once — then the weapons hit her.

…And bounced straight off her without a single scratch.

When Reika’s eyes reopened, they trailed white mist. When she stood, my view of her warped and distorted, as if I was looking at her through an imperfect mirror. More weapons slammed into her by the moment, but they all were turned aside by some unseen force.

Then Reika moved. There was a crack as she shot upward with ridiculous speed with her right fist extended and her left still wrapped around the strange crystal.

When she impacted with Alex’s barriers, they shattered like panes of glass. In a heartbeat, she’d burst straight through all his protective walls.

Alex reacted just as quickly, swinging Wraith Cutter straight into one of her wings. Like his conjured blades, it merely glanced off her, the force of the impact sending his arm wildly askew.

Then she was in reach, slamming a gauntlet-covered fist into his chest. His shroud slowed the swing, but only barely. The force of the impact launched him off his floating platform and into the open air, but Reika followed, swinging her fist rapidly with relentless force. She hit him three or four times before he lost his grip on the glaive, drawing the gem-pommeled sword from his side as he hurtled toward the ground and swinging in mid-air, sending a wave of rainbow-colored light in her direction.

Reika course-corrected to avoid the blast of rainbow energy, one wingbeat carrying her out of the attack’s path, but that movement cost her valuable time. When Alex finally hit the ground with a crunch, the translucent field around Reika faded, and the gem she was carrying lost its glow.

While she descended, floating weapons slammed into her, tearing new wounds in her wings. She crashed to the floor, the lightless gem tumbling from her grip.

Alexander Theas pushed himself from the floor, sporting a bloodied lip and a grim expression.

Reika didn’t rise from where she’d fallen. For a moment, I thought she’d lost consciousness.

…Then she fell further, vanishing into the stone floor.

She’d turned into mist again, and just in time. The floating weapons cut through the space she’d occupied a moment later.

Mist burst through the ground behind Alex a heartbeat later, but he must have anticipated the move. He reacted in an instant, dropping his sword and pressing his ring. Wraith Cutter manifested in his hand.

Then, in an agonizing moment, he jammed Wraith Cutter straight through the mist.

No!

My heart pounded as I pictured the glaive piercing straight through Reika’s spiritual body.

…But that wasn’t quite what happened.

A moment later, mist floated up around Alex’s ankles. Gauntleted hands solidified around them, then pulled.

Alex yelped, falling to the ground. Then, in a burst of mist, Reika surged upward through the ground, resolidifying right on top of Alex’s fallen form.

“Mist me.”

Reika gave Alex an exaggerated wink, then punched him straight in the face with a gauntleted hand.

Alex’s head snapped back, hitting the ground hard. His eyes fluttered as his consciousness began to fade. “…I just lost to a pun.”

His grip went slack.

And then, mercifully, he vanished.

The match was over.

***

“The winner is Reika Dawn!”

Reika stood, wobbling on her feet, and waved her hands excitedly.

Cheers erupted from the audience. Then, to the gasps of the crowd, Reika was no longer alone in the boundary of the arena.

Emperor Edria Fang had appeared in the ring. He was in his glorious crystal-laden armor, this time accented by a heavy crimson cloak lined with silver. “Congratulations, young lady.”

Reika grinned at the emperor, then seemed to remember herself and shifted to kneel. “Thanks!”

“Your prowess in the battle was unmistakable. You are the first to move on to the final six combatants, and I have come to personally offer your reward.”

Reward? I wasn’t aware that this phase of the tournament had rewards.

<Oh, yeah. Rei and I heard about this a week or so back. We’re done with points, but there are personal rewards for getting through each stage of the finals.>

That made sense. It was probably something I should have considered, but I’d been a little…fixated on other things.

As Reika continued to kneel, the emperor snapped his fingers. A small box appeared in mid-air. He grabbed it, then extended a hand to offer it to her.

Reika reverently accepted the box with both hands and a lowered head. “Thank you, Emperor Fang.”

“Do not open it here. You may not wish your opponents to see your gift.”

She nodded. “I understand.”

“Good. Now, let us clear the way for the next match!” He clapped his hands and vanished in a flash of light.

Reika cradled the box to her chest, looking tremendously excited. Then, after a moment, she tucked it away. As a pair of arena attendants appeared around her, she raised a finger. “Give me a moment to collect my things!”

The crystal went dark as Reika went to collect her fallen items.

Seeing how injured she was, I worried that she should have gone to get medical help first. Admittedly, though, I probably would have done the same thing in her place.

I hope she’s okay. That wing looked broken.

I didn’t have long to wait before I got my answer — it was only a few minutes before she burst into the entrance of my private box. “Keras! Keras! Did you see? I won!”

I laughed. “You did great. Congratulations. Are you okay? You looked like you got pretty torn up in there.”

“I’m fine! Turned my wingies off for a bit, though. They’ll need to recover for a while.” She stretched her arms awkwardly, as if noticing the absence of her wings for the first time. I noted that her body had already been covered in some bandages, but any medical treatment she’d been given had to be extremely basic, given how quickly she’d arrived. “Hug me?”

I opened my arms. She practically flew into them, burying her head in my chest. I pulled her close. For several moments, I just enjoyed her warmth, until a voice in my mind interjected.

<I’d tell you two to get a room, but I need to know what’s in that prize box first.>

Reika and I laughed in unison. “You want to open it here, or somewhere private?”

“Oh, it’s fine.” Reika reluctantly pulled away from me, then lifted the box. “It’s not like I’m going to need whatever is in here to beat you.”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re not going to beat me either way.”

She snorted. “Please. You haven’t even made it to the final round yet, slowpoke.”

“…You qualified like five minutes ago, and my round hasn’t come up yet. Is that anything to brag about?”

“Yes.” She nodded firmly. “Everything is worth bragging about, if you’re confident enough.”

“Just…open the box.”

“Okay!” She ripped the box open without ceremony. Inside was a potion bottle shaped like a white crystal heart. A stylized heart, that is. Not a real heart, that would have been creepy. “Ooh, pretty! The white matches my scales!”

“…What is it, though? Some kind of enhancement elixir?”

Reika wrinkled her nose. “I don’t have the slightest idea. I can sense spirit mana from it, but that’s about it. You?”

I extended my own senses toward it. Like Reika, I sensed spirit magic, but I couldn’t tell much about it. I didn’t feel any immediate sense of awareness from the crystal, but that didn’t mean much. My spiritual senses were getting better, but they weren’t completely reliable, and certainly not as honed as Reika’s. “Same.” I thought I could sense some enhancement emanating from it, too, and some other types I couldn’t easily identify. “I suppose we’ll need to get someone to identify it.”

“Kay, sounds good. Do you want to go now or watch the other matches? I bet we could get back before your round if we leave now. You’re one of the last ones, right?”

“Yeah. But I’m going to stick around and watch all the other ones. I’d like to get a better idea of what we’ll be up against in the finals, and it’s fun.”

“Yeah, true, I just…wanna know what this does.” She looked briefly conflicted, then shook her head.

“Speaking of wanting to know what things do…you had a couple new toys in there.”

Reika grinned at me. “I did, didn’t I? Aren’t they amazing?”

“I figured out that phoenix egg was the one you got from the third round, but was that…an actual phoenix? That just…died?”

“Oh, no! Fireflutter is fine, don’t worry! And I don’t want to say he’s not real, but he’s not exactly a standard phoenix. The egg was a single-use magic item. It uses Conjurer magic to make a phoenix when exposed to sufficient fire. I wanted to use it more than once, though, so I got this thing,” she reached into her bag and retrieved what looked like a blue sphere, “that lets me gather up the phoenix’s ashes and summon him again later. It’ll be a week or two before I can use him again, though.”

“And the gem?”

She grinned. “That’s a great one. Density Diamond. That was my first-place prize from the Battle Royale. It has some density-manipulation powers. Makes me near-invincible and helps me shatter things, but only for a few seconds before it needs to recharge.”

I nodded in understanding. That was very similar to some of the abilities that Edria Song had demonstrated with Diamantine, and it suited the theme of the Battle Royale prizes being similar to Diamantine’s powers. “And now you’ve got another new toy to play with.”

“Uh-huh. And a couple more things I’ve been keeping as surprises, too.” She grinned at me. “I can’t wait to figure out what this does! By which I mean that I actually can wait, and there will probably be some stores still open later, and we’ve got tomorrow off, too. But I’m excited.”

I nodded. “You want to stay and watch the next fight with me?”

Reika grabbed my hand. “I would be delighted.”

***

Over the next few minutes, I repeatedly tried to get Reika to drink one of my healing potions or go get Fai to treat her injuries, but she insisted that she was fine. Ultimately, I just gave up. She could survive her remaining wounds until we went back to the Study of Iron in the evening.

The next match was set up quickly. The main stage vanished, replaced by a set of viewing crystals, indicating that the main arena wouldn’t be used for this particular battle.

After a few minutes, there was an announcement, but not one that indicated the start of a match.

“People of Edria and honored guests, our most sincere apologies. The scheduled match between Haruka Saito and the Phantom Thief Ravenshade has been delayed.”

The crowd murmured in confusion and discontent. I merely felt…well, let’s call it concerned.

Sense Sacred Sword.

My senses picked up a number of sacred swords and similar sensations in the area nearby. Ishyeal was right nearby in his box, and I could sense multiple things that felt like a sacred sword in Edria Song’s box.

That’ll be Hannah and the crown princess.

I sensed something similar from the emperor’s box. If I wasn’t mistaken, that implied he still had a fragment of Diamantine, or perhaps one of the weapon’s amulets.

And once again, I sensed something that felt similar to the sacred swords, but not quite right. Muramasa.

What I didn’t sense was Twilight’s Edge. Granted, it was hard to distinguish between the swords, but unless Ravenshade was in the box meant for the crown princess or the emperor — which was possible, but unlikely — there was a sword missing.

<Do you think she ran away?>

Hard to say. Let’s keep listening.

The announcer continued after a moment. “An investigation is still being held, but it would appear that nefarious forces attacked one of the contestants just prior to the match. Both combatants are alive and well, but recovering. Given the circumstances, the other combatant has graciously agreed to postpone their match until tomorrow.”

I frowned. That was reasonably consistent with what I knew — Ravenshade had been attacked — but she didn’t seem like the type to actually admit that to the tournament.

Then again, if she was serious about winning, an extra day to recover from that poison was probably a good idea.

It was also possible that Haruka Saito had been attacked and asked for a delay, but I didn’t think it was likely, especially with Twilight’s Edge vanishing from my senses.

Maybe we should track her down and check in on her tonight after our match.

<Do you think we’d succeed?>

…Probably not. If Twilight’s Edge isn’t trackable right now, that closes our main method of finding her. I could check with Taer’vys, he’s probably figured out how to track everyone here. But it’s probably not worth it.

<…Yeah. And, uh, if it’s okay, I’d really rather avoid that guy.>

…Right. Of course. I understand. Sorry if I made you uncomfortable by calling for his help.

<No, it’s fine. Ravenshade was like, literally dying. But maybe try to avoid doing too much with the guy that nearly killed me?>

That’s fair. And beyond that…I’m not sure what kind of shape he’s going to be in for a chat.

After all, if Ravenshade is missing, Taer’vys is fighting in the next match.

***

When the arena finally came into focus on the viewing crystals, Reika and I both instinctively leaned forward to take a closer look.

The combatants stood at opposite entrances to a huge stone building. The interior of the structure was a style that was all-too-familiar, save for the scale. The center of the room was dominated by a colossal anvil and forge, already blazing with intense heat. The walls were lined with weapons of all varieties. Hundreds, maybe thousands of them.

More weapons were found on racks around the room, but they were less important than the incredibly obvious traps. Several sections of floor were covered only by thin grates. Beneath those grates were deadfalls, leading not to water, but into what looked like a lake of molten metal.

In other locations, holes in the wall spat out jets of flame and gas. The ceiling, too, was rigged with dangers: I couldn’t see particularly well through the crystal, but some areas were clearly discolored, indicating the presence of some kind of threat. Pendulums that would fall if the combatants stepped beneath them, perhaps, or maybe swinging scythe blades. Those were always a classic.

All in all, the arena was a giant, trap-filled forge.

Appropriate, given the fighters involved. Lots of iron.

Both Walter and Taer’vys could shape metal. Both of them had some degree of flame shaping power, too. I suspected Taer’vys was stronger at the former and Walter at the latter.

I listened to the announcer’s introduction. It had no surprises: I knew the combatants all-too-well. And, in spite of it never being spoken aloud, I knew that this match was more than just a simple tournament fight between the two of them.

Walter had changed since Taer’vys’ arrival. He’d grown distant, contemplative. I wouldn’t call it angry, but…I didn’t think he’d known that Grandmother Iron had left a son behind. And given that he was both Grandmother Iron’s assistant instructor and…well, about the same age as Taer’vys…

There was probably some hostility there.

From Taer’vys’ perspective, I can only imagine his feelings when he found his mother training someone who might have served as a replacement for him. I hadn’t talked to him about it. Given his personality, I’m sure he wouldn’t have shown any hint of emotion. He’d been trained not to show anything that could be interpreted as weakness.

But he’d come an awful long way to see his mother, and he’d found her with a different type of family. That had to hurt.

So, with all that in mind, I wasn’t surprised to see that Taer’vys didn’t have his signature wolf-like grin when the match started. His eyes were focused solely on his opponent, his left arm covered in a steel shield, his right arm hidden behind it to obscure when he chose to draw.

Conversely, Walter was inspecting the chamber from the moment they entered, a one-handed grip on Octave. His dozens of bracelets showed he had other weapons available to conjure. I recognized more than a few, but not all of them.

I felt a sinking feeling when I thought about what might happen if he chose to deploy any of them in the fight. After what happened with Dawn…

<I don’t think he’ll do that. Taer’vys…he still terrifies me, but he didn’t know he was hurting me. With Walter’s weapons…he knows he’d be killing someone if he destroys them. I don’t think even Taer’vys is that much of a monster.>

I desperately hoped that she was right.

“Begin!”

The start of the match took me by surprise. I’d barely been paying attention to the announcer.

“Go get him, Walter!” Reika cheered from beside me.

I couldn’t echo her enthusiasm.

I wasn’t sure who I wanted to win.

Walter moved first, tapping Octave on the ground with a gesture that always reminded me of Velas. While the motion was similar, the effect was different.

There was a crack as a pendulum fell from the roof, just above where Taer’vys was standing.

Taer’vys made an infinitesimal frown, then side-stepped the falling sphere, almost languidly. By the time he’d moved out of the way, Walter had run behind one of the room’s many weapon racks, obscuring himself from Taer’vys’ view.

A bracelet on Walter’s wrist flashed, then vanished. A dagger appeared in Walter’s hand. As Taer’vys began to slowly advance across the room, Walter swapped his own dagger out with one of the ones on the rack.

“Oh, that’s sneaky!” Reika leaned forward on the railing, trying to get a better look. “Which dagger is that?”

“I don’t know.” I couldn’t get a good look at it through the crystal, either.

Walter tapped Octave again, causing a reverberation throughout the forge. A huge display case of weapons toppled over near Taer’vys. He stepped back, allowing it to crash to the ground with a cacophonous sound, wasting no energy on using his own magic. This was probably a conscious choice on his part. As a dominion sorcerer, Taer’vys would weaken the more he used his power, while Walter would suffer no such consequences as long as he retained any mana.

Taer’vys could match Walter’s power in a burst, but not in any kind of extended struggle. If he wanted to win, he’d have to save every bit of energy he could.

Walter wasn’t going to make that easy. He rushed around the opposite side of the weapon rack from where he’d started, then hurled Octave straight in Taer’vys’ direction like a spear. It wasn’t a conventional way to use a halberd, but the approach was a lot more effective when the halberd could fight on their own.

“La la la, I’m really gonna cut-cha!” Octave sang as he flew across the chamber.

Taer’vys dropped into a defensive stance in an instant, angling his shield for the impact, but Octave shifted in mid-flight to aim toward Taer’vys’ face.

With a flash of steel, Taer’vys drew and smashed Octave out of the way with terrifying force, sending the floating halberd all the way into the ceiling.

Then, with a stomp that shattered the stone floor beneath him, Taer’vys surged across the room.

“Body of Iron,” I muttered. He’d used it sooner than I expected.

And judging from the undisguised shock of Walter’s face, he hadn’t been quite ready for it, either.

Nevertheless, Walter was ready before Taer’vys had managed to cross the room. Two bracelets flashed, forming a pair of matching flanged maces. When Taer’vys got into reach and made a swift cut toward Walter’s chest, Walter swept his first mace in the way. The impact force jarred Walter’s arm out of position, but on contact, the blade of Taer’vys’ sword exploded in a burst of metallic splinters.

I couldn’t tell if Walter had used a metal shaping technique or if his mace was simply enchanted with something similar to the Bladebreaker Bracers. Either way, Taer’vys was left stumbling back with an empty hilt. And worse, he’d been forced to close his eyes for a split-second to protect them from the spray of shards. Body of Iron protected his skin and muscles from any damage, but his eyes would have been vulnerable if he kept them open.

Walter took that moment of vulnerability to swing with his off-hand, aiming straight for Taer’vys’ face.

Taer’vys didn’t need his eyes. Not when he was fighting metal.

His shield came up, deflecting the mace and exploding in the same fashion that his sword blade had. In the heartbeat that followed, he hurled his empty hilt at Walter at point-blank range. That wouldn’t have been much of a threat under ordinary circumstances, but Taer’vys was using Body of Iron. It would have hit an ordinary person with enough force to crush bone to powder.

Walter didn’t move. The hilt passed through his shroud, only marginally slowing, and then hit him straight in the chest…and fell harmlessly to the ground.

He was using Body of Iron, too.

In the moment that followed, something subtle happened.

Walter shot forward to counter, swinging both maces at his now-unarmed opponent. And then, without warning, he stumbled.

Attuned on his level did not, generally speaking, ever do that.

Taer’vys dodged the now-wild swing easily, then raised his shield hand and threw the battered remains of his shield at Walter.

It hit Walter dead-on, causing Walter to stumble again in surprise, but inflicting no real damage.

When Walter swung around toward the source of the attack, Taer’vys stepped backward easily, finally manifesting his tell-tale smile.

It was only at that point that I noticed it: a broken glass bottle on the arena floor, leaking black ichor.

I recognized it, of course. Taer’vys had used something near-identical against me in our own match.

And finally, I understood what had just happened. Taer’vys had bathed the area in void. He must have held a vial in the same hand as his sword, or perhaps he’d concealed one inside his shield…I’d have to see if I could watch more carefully through a memory crystal sometime to figure out when he’d done it.

Regardless, the consequences were clear.

The area around them was probably pitch black — the arena’s viewing crystal simply had some way of seeing through that gloom, so it hadn’t been obvious to me from the audience.

Now, Walter was the one that was fighting blind.

Taer’vys walked to the nearest weapon rack and pulled off a pair of swords. For a moment, I once again wondered how he was seeing through his own darkness…

Then, as he cautiously stepped closer to Walter to raise his swords, I realized that he wasn’t.

When his swords came down in a flash, his eyes were closed.

He was fighting based on his metal sense alone.

Walter had a metal sense of his own, but I’d never seen someone fight with it with the level of precision that Taer’vys managed. When those swords came down in a blur, Walter must have sensed them approaching, but far too late. He jerked his maces upward in a cross-pattern, but Taer’vys went lower, aiming for Walter’s chest.

Octave hit Taer’vys from behind without a sound.

The halberd’s blade hit him in the back of the left shoulder. Body of Iron offered massive protection, and Taer’vys was wearing a chain shirt, but it wasn’t enough. Octave cut right through his armor and dug deep, embedding in place.

The force of the blow threw Taer’vys’ swing out of position, causing both of his attacks to miss. Walter closed the distance between them in an instant, smashing Taer’vys in the jaw with the butt of his mace.

Taer’vys’ head rocked back and he fell, barely managing to roll side-ways mid-fall to prevent himself from falling directly backward onto Octave’s blade. The halberd shook in place in the wound, seemingly trying to dislodge itself, and undoubtedly causing even more terrible damage. Taer’vys winced on the ground, but somehow, he didn’t scream.

He did drop his swords, though.

Walter stepped over his fallen opponent. He looked contemplative for a moment, as well as cautious. Then, without so much as an offer for his opponent to surrender, he swung both maces toward his fallen opponent’s face.

I winced.

Taer’vys rolled. I read his lips as he whispered, “Magnetic pull.”

And with absolute insanity, he pulled the two metal-shattering weapons straight toward the weapon embedded in his own back.

Walter’s maces jerked downward with sudden force.

And in that moment, I felt Dawn’s panic in my mind.

She’d been wrong.

Taer’vys was a monster after all.

Walter’s maces impacted Octave’s blade. The halberd’s blade trembled.

Walter screamed, soundless in the void.

Then a dozen weapons from the nearby shelf hit Walter in the back.

Most of the weapons failed to deal any damage. He was still using Body of Iron, after all. But a few of those weapons must have been enchanted, even in small ways.

Those few weapons embedded in place, leaving a handful of knives, arrows, and crossbow bolts embedded in his back.

Taer’vys pushed himself into a seated position, effortlessly catching a dagger that had flown toward him from one of the nearby shelves with greater force than his magnetic pull would have allowed. Walter’s Soulblade dagger, the one he’d hidden at the start of the match. The weapon flashed with inner light…then nothing else happened.

Taer’vys regarded the dagger with a contemplative expression, then, without any further warning, he jammed it into Walter’s stomach.

Walter fell to his knees. His lips moved weakly, but I couldn’t read them.

Taer’vys reached backward, then lifted the metallic shaft that had once belonged to Octave from the floor. With a grunt, he used the shaft to push himself to his feet.

“I hate talking weapons.”

Taer’vys snapped the shaft in half, then smashed both pieces across Walter’s face.

***

I stood in silence as Walter’s body collapsed to the arena floor.

Reika screamed. I barely reached for her in time to grab her and stop her from jumping straight into the arena.

“That absolute bastard!” Reika spun on me. “I’m going to murder him!”

I shook my head, then pointed down. “Look again.”

Walter was still down on the arena floor, bleeding freely.

The announcer called the match over.

Taer’vys had sat back down. It was hard to see, but he was holding a sliver of metal in his right hand.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “But you put me in a bad spot.”

Reika gasped. “Is that…”

“Octave’s blade.” I exhaled a sigh of relief. “When Walter hit Octave, Taer’vys must have countered the metal sorcery from the maces. Instead of letting Octave explode, he reshaped the blade to get it out of his back…but he let Walter think he’d just killed his own friend. I think Walter might have noticed if he’d been given a moment, but the weapons from the shelf hit him just a second later.”

“Then…is he…” Reika looked at me with wide, hopeful eyes.

“I think Octave is probably fine. Walter, on the other hand…”

I watched as arena staff appeared in the forge, carefully helping Taer’vys to his feet and lifting Walter onto a stretcher.

“…He’s going to have some healing to do.”

***

We had an hour before the next scheduled match, so we split up.

Reika went to check on Walter, finding that he was badly hurt, but stable.

I checked on both Taer’vys and Octave. Taer’vys had taken one very serious hit from the halberd, but the doctors assured me that he would make a full recovery before his next match…something that I didn’t think would have been possible in my homeland. The healing magic here was incredibly advanced.

Given that Taer’vys and I were competitors, they wouldn’t have let me see him unless he gave his permission. Fortunately, he did.

“Congratulations. That was an impressive fight.”

“Sure,” he replied from his hospital bed. “But I know why you’re here.” He waved at the nearby table, showing me a piece of metal. “He’s intact. Damaged, but he should be reparable.”

I nodded. “It was kind of you to spare the effort to keep Octave alive, given how difficult that must have been.”

Taer’vys snorted. “Kind?” He shook his head. “Don’t be naïve, kid. Now Walter owes me a favor. And when the time comes, I plan to collect.”

Taer’vys was an expert liar, but I’d known him for a long time.

He’d made one crucial misstep: he hadn’t smiled when talking about Walter owing him.

I didn’t call his bluff, but I made the smile that he’d missed.

There was no master plan here. No cunning ruse for future gifts.

Taer’vys had made a choice out of kindness, after all.

***

Shortly later, I found an arena staff member waiting nervously in my private box.

“Can I help you?” I asked.

The man nodded fervently. “I’m so sorry for intruding! I was supposed to ask you earlier, but things have been, uh, chaotic. I need to know your preferences for the arena for your match later today.”

I’d been wondering why I hadn’t been asked about that. I’d been leaning toward “my opponent bought an advantage” as the explanation, but apparently it had been simple human error. “What are my options?”

He gave me a list. It was in Cas, of course.

I handed it off to Reika to translate. “Let’s see…Deepest Dungeon, Soaring Spire, Abandoned City, Mana Core Stadium, Arcane Armory…”

She kept going, finally ending with “standard arena”.

“Did my opponent express a preference?” I asked.

The arena staff member nodded. “Yes, he’s selected the Abandoned City. If you select the same, we’ll settle on that. If you choose a different option, we’ll have a neutral third party flip a coin.”

I considered that briefly. “Can you tell me more about the areas?”

“Not much beyond the name. The details are intended to be a surprise for the combatants. I can say that the Abandoned City is designed to look like the ruins of an ancient civilization, just without the people.”

I nodded. Urban terrain would probably give the Green Guardian a slight advantage. He could fly, and presumably faster than I could climb up a building. We both had stone shaping abilities, although he primarily seemed to use that strange crystal that formed his armor rather than traditional stone.

Dawn, any preferences?

<Oh, uh, thanks for asking. No, whatever you feel like.>

She was being oddly distant, but I didn’t have time to pry into it.

Another moment of consideration, then I took my usual route.

Disadvantages just made things more entertaining. “Abandoned City it is.”

It sounded quite innocuous.

I wouldn’t find out my mistake until it was time for my own match. For the moment, I let the attendant leave, then turned my gaze back to the crystal to watch the next fight.

“I’m gonna go watch this one with Shun, since he’s up right after this one and he’s probably feeling nervous.” Reika gave me a squeeze on the hand. “You two have fun!”

“Oh, I think we will. This is one of the matches I’ve been looking forward to the most.”

As Reika darted out of the room, I turned my gaze back to the crystal to watch closely.

I didn’t need the announcer to tell me who was up next. I could sense them both walk into the ring, then vanish as they were teleported elsewhere.

Two people who weren’t quite wielders, but still felt like they held the presence of sacred swords:

Hannah Meiyer and Satoshi Muramasa.

***

When the crystal flickered to display the arena for the match, the results were peculiar: only one fighter was visible.

Hannah stood on crimson carpet inside an elegant white stone room. There were four exits: one open doorway on each side. The walls of the chamber were covered with tapestries, paintings, and other ornamentation. The center of the room was a stage, with tattered red curtains lying in a heap atop it. Next to the stage was a chair and an easel holding an incomplete painting:

An image of Hannah herself, but with her face missing.

<Creepy.>

Huh.

I scanned the rest of the room, processing the other art supplies lying abandoned within the chamber, as well as the strange state of disrepair of the other paintings. Unlike the one of Hannah, the paintings on the walls had been finished, but their eyes had all been painted over with pure white paint.

That’s a little strange, yeah.

I was just in the process of guessing at the location when the announcer helpfully began.

“People of Edria and honored guests, our next match of the finals is about to begin. You see now our first combatant — Hannah Meiyer, the famed Royal Executioner. She stands within a location that should look familiar to her, but appearances are often deceptive. Our combatants have chosen The Empty Palace, a replica of the imperial palace in the capital, but with a few minor changes…”

As he spoke the last words, the weapons and paintings on the walls began to rattle ominously.

Oh, that looks like fun. I should have picked that one.

<You want to be in the creepy ghost palace?>

Uh, yeah. That aesthetic is amazing. And there could be monsters anywhere!

<Don’t you hate surprises? Like the nope box?>

…Don’t ever mention that thing again. Ghosts playing tricks sounds hilarious. Pretending to be a treasure box? That’s just unfair.

<You have some strange double standards.>

As Dawn and I chatted, the announcer continued. Eventually, the crystal shifted to show Satoshi Muramasa standing within one of many prison cells.

“Our other combatant, Satoshi Muramasa, is a talented Artinian fighter who wields a massive cursed blade. He will start the match in the prison section below the palace. In our colorful interpretation of the prison, he will have his own threats to deal with on his way to the shared objective of our combatants — a replica of the throne. Sitting upon the throne will not end the match, but it will trigger a series of powerful magical effects to increase their power for the remainder of the battle. And with that explained…let the match begin!”

Interesting. So, they could go straight for each other or head to the throne room…assuming the throne is in the throne room. With a member of the royal guard in the match, she’d have a pretty unfair advantage if they stick with the standard palace layout.

<Oh, I wouldn’t imagine that they’d do anything unfair. Not like, say, starting one combatant in an art gallery and the other in a prison cell.>

I groaned. It definitely did look like the arena committee was playing favorites, on the surface…but as the crystal split to show both chambers simultaneously, I changed my assessment.

Both areas had potential threats, but honestly, Hannah’s seemingly-innocuous room was much more suspicious to me. Sure, the creepy paintings were probably the traps, but what would they actually do? Make a faceless copy of Hannah to fight her? Draw her into a phantasmal painting realm? Conjure spectres that tried to gouge out her eyes? Mind control her into trying to tear off her own face?

All possibilities, but nothing solid.

Conversely, the threats to Muramasa were obvious. Almost too obvious.

The other prison cells were occupied, but not by people — there were numerous skeletons within them. Many were chained — or, in a couple gruesome cases, nailed — to walls. Others were simply lying on the cold stone floors, or arranged into bone piles.

Yeah, those are definitely going to animate and attack.

<Yep. Just as soon as he gets near them.>

Muramasa stood completely still in his cell.

<…Any minute now.>

Muramasa didn’t move.

<…Did they not tell him that the match started?>

I frowned, looking at the other section of the crystal, which showed Hannah immediately rushing toward an open door on the right side of the room. The door slammed shut right in front of her, but as it did, she swept a hand upward and cleaved through the center with a newly-formed shroud blade. A few more swings cut the door to pieces, but before she could rush through, a cackling, faceless figure manifested behind her.

It looked like a gigantic, human-sized puppet of a lordly figure, complete with puppet strings. It wore regal regalia: a crown, a long crimson robe, and a fancy tailored tunic and pants. Weirdly, it didn’t have any shoes, though. More alarmingly, it had no eyes, mirroring the strange paintings. A gaping mouth filled with razor-sharp metallic teeth opened wide as it cackled, then snapped shut with a clack. The puppet’s wooden hands carried a flimsy sword and shield, but they weren’t the real threats, and neither were the fangs. The puppet strings themselves glittered strangely, leading me to realize they were metal — likely some kind of razor wire.

The puppet lurched forward, as if awkwardly guided by some unseen hand. Hannah went straight for the strings, swinging her essence-forged blade, but the puppet lurched back with surprising dexterity and avoided her swing.

Meanwhile, the floor beneath Hannah’s feet began to ripple. I wasn’t sure if she noticed at first, but she quickly jumped backward, toward the now-cleared doorway. A piece of wood from the door floated upward and flew at her back, but simply snapped when it collided with her. Either the wood wasn’t very solid or Hannah was simply too resilient for the wood to do any harm.

Hannah slowly backed out of the room as more puppets manifested from clouds of smoke around the chamber. As she exited, she gave a regretful look toward the shattered door — she was probably wishing she could close it on her pursuers.

As she exited, the paintings themselves began to float upward, but I lost sight of them as she turned and began to run down a carpeted hallway.

Meanwhile, Satoshi Muramasa…still wasn’t moving.

He’d sat down on the floor, cross-legged, and appeared to be meditating.

Was his strategy to just wait for Hannah to find him, expending her strength on traps and monsters along the way? That…wasn’t a bad move, honestly. It wasn’t very exciting, but it was efficient. As long as exhaustion was more of a disadvantage to her than whatever benefits the throne gave her, just waiting things out was probably better than hunting for Hannah or the throne.

It was so completely antithetical to my own methods that I hated watching it, but I had to admit a grudging bit of respect: it was, after all, completely disregarding the intent of the challenge. That was something I could appreciate, even if the strategy itself wasn’t.

While Muramasa lounged comfortably in the jail, the carpet beneath Hannah was rising to entangle her. She hacked and slashed at it rapidly, tearing wide gouges that bled, which somehow managed to make the carpet creepier than eyeless puppets. The way the carpet writhed as if in agony contributed, too.

…Maybe I wouldn’t enjoy this arena after all.

<No kidding! I would be freaking out in there! How is she still calm?>

I mean, it probably helps that she knows it’s an arena fight.

…Unless she doesn’t. They didn’t wipe her memories for this one, did they?

<Unlikely?>

Yeah. Still creepy, either way.

Hannah finished hacking through a large section of carpet, which eventually fell still. The razor-wire puppets were still following her — the eyeless king now accompanied by a queen and a handful of small puppet children.

Hannah took one glance back at them, blanched, and ran.

On the other half of the crystal, Muramasa was drawing something in the floor of his cell with a single glowing finger. At first, I wondered if he was simply bored, but eventually I processed that he was cutting runes into the floor.

Oh, not bad. He’s preparing the field.

<I didn’t know he was an Enchanter.>

He’s probably not — remember, other continents have different forms of magic. They don’t have attunements back at home, but people can still make magic items. Admittedly, it’s harder.

<He’s not from your home, though. What about Artinia?>

Honestly, I don’t know a lot about how their magic works, but Wrynn does have these weird marks on her body. Dedications and seals. And she uses these spirit art things…not enough time to explain that right now. But yeah, they have runes.

One of the runes on the floor flickered to life. Muramasa frowned, then continued drawing more.

Hannah raced onward, spinning toward a door on her left, only to find a blank stone wall behind it. As she cleaved through that stone with another swing — a test that I admired — there was a crack above her. She barely managed to jump backward in time to avoid a massive iron sphere, which splintered the stone right in front of the doorway, then rolled down the hallway toward the puppets. At first, I thought the sphere might bowl the puppets over, but the kingly puppet pointed his sword in the sphere’s direction and it stopped in mid-movement, settling in place.

I blinked at that. Hannah kept cutting through the stone, only to find more stone beneath it. As the puppets approached — with yet more puppets beginning to flow out of the art room, these in soldier’s garb — she grimaced and abandoned the doorway, rushing further down the hall.

Muramasa continued working on his art project on the cell floor. His glowing runes had spread far enough to make them conspicuous, which might have been a bad move — they no longer functioned as a trap if Hannah could see them — but I still had no idea what they did. If they weren’t offensive in nature and simply, say, created a beneficial field of energy that Muramasa could make use of, I supposed that their visibility wasn’t much of a factor.

I briefly wished I’d spent more time studying how Wrynn’s magic worked, but it wasn’t like I’d ever had much of an opportunity to learn the details. Artinian magic was very much a mystery, even in my homeland, and Wrynn herself wasn’t exactly forthcoming about it. Maybe a trip to Artinia was eventually in order.

Hannah made it down the hall and started to run up a spiral staircase, only for the stairway to flatten beneath her into a ramp. At the sound of another click, she vaulted off the stairway into a courtyard below. A few moments later, I saw the threat she’d avoided — an eight-foot-wide boulder that rolled down the stairway, pausing right in front of the puppet king.

The jump took Hannah down to what looked like a garden area. She landed on a patch of grass near a fountain that flowed with some kind of black, tar-like substance rather than water. The garden had a significant variety of plants, but I paid most of my attention to the rose bushes that were tearing themselves out of the ground after she landed, the thorns on their stems dripping with green ichor.

Someone put a lot of work into this.

<Yeah. Someone who I wouldn’t want to meet. They’re probably creepy, too.>

It’s just a bit of creative atmosphere, Dawn. Making some animated plants doesn’t mean that they’re a scary person.

<And the eyeless puppets?>

…Admittedly, that’s a little concerning.

Hannah rushed through the garden, spinning from time to time to deflect barrages of thorns that the animated rose bushes were firing at her from a distance. As she reached a pair of double doors toward the end of the garden, a gigantic hole appeared across its surface.

Not a hole, I realized belatedly. A mouth.

“Who dares—”

Hannah jumped right through the door’s open mouth as it spoke, shifting in mid-air to avoid clipping her head on wooden teeth.

I blinked. Okay, that was impressive. I wouldn’t have done that.

<No kidding. You would have killed the wall next to it.>

…Dawn was probably right, but I didn’t admit that.

For the moment, Hannah was free from enemies. I’d seen the puppets jumping down into the garden just before she reached the door, but they were presumably still clattering through it.

Hannah had reached what looked like a grand ballroom. The floor was white tile, but caked with what looked like numerous bloodstains. Upon a closer glance, there were also bloody footsteps emerging from some of the stains, many of which appeared to be fleeing the room.

The bloodstains were not alone on the chamber floor: regal suits and dresses were splayed across the chamber floor. Some were fully intact, but others had rips and tears, many of which displayed similar bloodstains to those on the floors.

<Oh, that’s foreboding. At least there isn’t—>

Slow, orchestral music began to flow across the chamber a moment later.

<…Never mind.>

And with that, the discarded clothing that had been splayed across the ballroom rose — and began to dance. As the outfits began to dance together, they seemed to fill-in, as if they were worn by invisible figures.

Hannah paused at the entrance briefly, examining. She tapped her foot for several moments, getting the timing of the music. When a floating suit and tie approached and bowed to her, she waved a hand dismissively, sending the suit on their way. The suit turned away, then made a half-turn back toward her, as if disappointed.

Hannah waved again. The suit departed back into the crowd.

Instead, Hannah found a lone dress hovering on the periphery of the ghostly field, then bowed and extended her own hand toward the dress. I heard what sounded like an audible gasp from the dress, then the dress extended a handless sleeve toward Hannah.

Hannah smiled, taking the sleeve and gently guided the dress toward the dance floor.

<…Okay, no longer certain if this is creepy or kind of sweet.>

Interesting choice, there. This way, Hannah is leading the dance, which lets her move where she wants.

And move she did — gradually guiding the dress with sweeping movements and surprising precision, never losing time with the music.

For minutes, I simply watched the phantasmal dancers sweeping in and out, while Hannah expertly guided her partner slowly but inexorably toward the double doors on the opposite side of the room.

It was only after the song changed that one of the ghostly dancers missed a step, then exploded in a fountain of crimson liquid and deflated back into normal clothing on the chamber floor. I gawked.

<…Aaaand back to creepy.>

No kidding.

Hannah danced just a little bit faster after that. It was only when she reached the very edge of the chamber that she lifted a hand to kiss the sleeve of her dancing partner, then reached and grabbed the handle to the chamber exit.

The symphony died mid-note. Every single dancer in the room — hundreds of them — spun toward Hannah the moment she touched the door handle. The dancers reached out, glass-like transparent weapons appearing to hover where they might have held them if they had hands.

As Hannah froze at the sight of hundreds of figures beginning to move in her direction, one figure moved differently from the rest. The dress that she’d danced with across the chamber stepped in front of Hannah in an unambiguous motion of defense, a glass-like rapier forming in her ghostly grasp.

From that solitary figure, I thought I heard the faintest whisper:

“Go.”

Hannah’s eyes widened in genuine sorrow, then she spun back to the door, pulling it wide. Then, once again, she ran.

***

As minutes passed and ghosts danced, Satoshi Muramasa worked.

Soon, the entire floor of his humble jail cell was littered with runic figures. Only when that was completed did he drag his fingers across the bars of the cell, cutting them to shreds. As he sliced the bars, he grabbed each piece, holding it for a moment before driving it into the floor, seemingly to create additional hazards. With a few more slips of his hand, he sharpened the tips of each of the newly-forged metal spikes. Then, finally, he stepped into the next cell over.

Immediately, a pile of bones began to assemble itself. Muramasa’s fingers shot out toward the skull, then shifted, carving a rune into the bones of the forehead.

The skeleton finished forming, then knelt at Muramasa’s feet.

Huh. Was not expecting that.

Muramasa said something in Cas. The only word I recognized was “guard”, but that was enough — the skeleton moved off to stand in front of one of the chamber doors.

With that completed, Muramasa moved on to the next cell, his fingers again striking out and carving into the skeleton’s skull.

“Guard.”

Within minutes, the entire jail was under his control.

***

Hannah ran, occasionally casting glances back toward the ballroom. Not fearful ones.

No, they carried other expressions. Sorrow. Hope.

She didn’t let that slow her down. A flare of mana sent her rushing down the halls faster, slipping through a pair of animated suits of armor before they could move to attack. She turned a corner, rushed up a flight of stairs, then headed straight for another pair of double doors. When another pair of suits of armor moved to cross their spears in front of her, she hacked through the spears, then slammed shoulder-first into the doors, smashing the entire thing off the hinges.

The next chamber was easily recognizable: the throne room. Unlike the rest of the castle, it looked conspicuously empty. No paintings. No statues. Not even a carpet on the floor.

Just the throne, all the way on the opposite side of the chamber.

Hannah rushed forward, dodging swings from the broken weapons of the still-animated suits of armor in the doorway.

The moment she reached the center of the room, the Puppet King descended in the middle of her path. Other puppets dropped from the ceiling around her — queen, children, and soldiers alike.

Hannah didn’t stop running — she just slammed straight into the Puppet King’s shield, shoving him hard out of the way. He flew backward, awkwardly flailing puppet limbs and sending strands of cutting wire in her direction. Hannah dodged to the right, then just kept running. When the ground began to collapse beneath her, she leapt for the throne.

She slammed face first into an invisible wall. With a groan, she fell to the ground in front of the throne. The floor was slowly collapsing where she’d been running, but the area around the throne itself didn’t seem to be falling away. There were two slots on the sides of the wall nearby that looked like they were designed for some kind of gemstones. Presumably, they were items that could be picked up somewhere in the castle to lower the barrier around the throne.

Hannah, in the most Keras-like move of the day, ignored that entirely and began to hack through the barrier. It was a little slower than it would have been for me, but as the puppets continued to advance — “leaping” by way of being jerked upward by their strings to clear the collapsing floor — the barrier finally collapsed. And, without taking a moment longer, Hannah sat on the throne.

A loud chime filled the entire chamber. No — seeing Muramasa’s sudden startled reaction on the other side of the crystal, it must have been the palace as a whole.

A flare of light washed over Hannah, then, all at once, the puppets fell to their knees.

The Puppet King dropped his sword and shield, reaching upward with wooden hands, then slipped off his coppery crown. As Hannah watched, the Puppet King extended the crown in her direction.

For the first time, Hannah hesitated. Her gaze shifted to another puppet, one that looked like a small girl. Then, banishing the reluctance from her features, she strode forward, took the puppet crown, and placed it atop her head.

It didn’t fit, but she wore it anyway.

“Come with me,” she demanded.

The puppets rose as one at her command.

***

Time passed. Hannah swept through the palace, gathering her army. She visited the armory, too, finding a variety of weapons. And with them, she began to work.

Satoshi Muramasa stood in the cell where he’d begun the round, impassively watching the main entrance to the prison. He was familiar with the layout now, having swept through the entire dungeon to gather every single skeleton and repurpose every trap.

When the door to the chamber finally burst open, he was well-prepared for Hannah Meiyer’s intrusion into his domain.

But who could ever truly be ready for an army of puppets?

The now-crownless Puppet King charged straight in the newly-opened door, smashing aside a pair of skeletons with a well-placed shield bash and sword swing. Other skeletons moved to encircle him, only to find themselves faced with dozens of puppet soldiers that followed in the king’s wake.

Muramasa blinked twice at the display, then swept a hand through the air, sending a series of near-invisible blades of cutting force in the king’s direction. In a blur, the Puppet Queen moved to intercept. Much like the Valor piece she resembled, she was the fastest of the puppets, raising a scepter to form a barrier as she moved into the path of the attack.

Speed, unfortunately, did not come with resilience. The attack cleaved right through her — barrier, puppet, and all. Her defense bought only a heartbeat of time for the king to step aside as the queen fell to pieces.

He knelt by the side of the fallen queen, her pieces still twitching on strings, as a ring of soldiers gathered around them to repel an incoming flood of skeletons.

The tide turned against the puppets quickly as they were forced into a defensive ring, every effort to break out foiled as one of the runes on the floor activated, triggering a new and unique trap. Gouts of fire leapt from the chamber floor, setting wood ablaze. Spears descended from the ceilings, pinning puppets in place. A steel pendulum swung from side-to-side, crushing puppets to pulp.

Muramasa warily focused his attention on the king, perhaps hoping that the army itself would fall with the king’s defeat. The logic was sound: as the battle progressed, it became clearer that the puppet soldiers behaved much like Valor pieces, with weaker soldiers supported by more potent clerics, knights, and royals.

Perhaps determined to preserve his energy, Muramasa engaged little, simply watching the progression of the battle and occasionally seeming to give his skeletons new commands. All the while, his true opponent remained absent.

When the king finally fell, Muramasa showed only the slightest frown as the puppets continued to battle around him. Perhaps at that point he realized that the king had only been a distraction — that the true ruler remained above. His eyes turned upward, then. Maybe he’d heard the sound of movement on the floor above in spite of the din of the battle.

If so, the warning had come too late.

While Muramasa’s army prevailed, Hannah finished setting explosives. With a lift of her hand, the few puppets remaining with her lifted their torches, igniting fuses.

There was a loud bang as dozens of bombs exploded in unison. And only moments after the king’s fall, the prison ceiling fell along with him.

***

I gaped at the wreckage of the prison. The collapse had been near-instant. Hannah herself had barely managed to leap free of the destruction.

Muramasa was fast — probably the fastest fighter in the competition as a whole. But even he probably wasn’t fast enough to rush out the door, around a corner, and up a flight of stairs in the heartbeat it took for the ceiling to collapse.

Unfortunately for Hannah, he didn’t have to.

Satoshi Muramasa stood unmoved in the center of the devastation. There was a wide gap around him where the rooftop rubble was sliced into tiny fragments, as if it had been shredded by thousands of swings from a sword of impossible sharpness.

…And perhaps that was what had happened. I saw only Muramasa pushing his sword back into that strange, ofuda-covered scabbard with an audible clink.

Then, without the slightest hint of concern, he turned his head upward, straight toward where Hannah stood in the palace above. “Impressive.” He inclined his head in the slightest nod. “You hoped not to fight me at all. Wise.”

Then in a blur, he had moved dozens of meters, out of the wreckage and to the doorway to the room where Hannah stood. I didn’t see him cross the intervening space. I was half-tempted to activate Body of Dawn just to be able to follow him better, but it wasn’t an efficient use of my essence.

Hannah took a couple tentative steps back, raising her mana blade in a guard position. Something flashed in her eyes and a field of essence flowed across her body. Some kind of enhancement technique, I assumed. Maybe her own equivalent of a Body of Dawn-style speed enhancement.

In spite of that, she continued retreating. Muramasa pursued her slowly, with a half-dozen remaining puppets fanning out in the area around them, keeping their distance. Eventually, they passed through the doorway into the garden. The deadly rose bushes were missing now, having been dug up and replaced at Hannah’s command.

“I spent considerable time preparing the battlefield below.” Muramasa explained, walking forward. His sword was sheathed again on his back, but I knew too-well how quickly that could change.

“I know. My spy told me.” Hannah gestured at a distant puppet wearing a jaunty hat. Hat-puppet raised a wooden hand with a “ssh” gesture. Hannah had the good grace to look abashed at spoiling the poor puppet’s role. She continued slowly retreating, until she paused near the tar-spewing fountain in the center of the garden. Apparently, she’d chosen where to make her stand.

“Very impressive. Your proactivity does you credit. That said, I am free now, and you’re well-aware of your chances in a direct confrontation.”

Hannah’s eyes narrowed. “You’re arrogant.”

“Please. I’m merely realistic. Emerald or not, you’re no match for me. Do you not recall our encounter in the Battle Royale?”

“I do.” She raised her sword. “I learned a valuable lesson that day. I hope to teach you one today.”

“Oh?” Muramasa inclined his head in interest. “And what lesson would that be?”

“It doesn’t matter how strong you are if you’re standing on top of a bomb.”

With her final word, the ground beneath Muramasa exploded in a detonation with several times the intensity of the individual bombs that had been used to bring down the prison ceiling. The sheer force of the detonation hurled Muramasa backward and upward.

Hannah practically flew forward to meet him in mid-air, swinging her essence blade. Muramasa met her swing with his bare hand, a flash of power encompassing his fingers just before the blade met his flesh. Sparks flew as their powers met, then Hannah swung with her other hand, forming a second blade and managing to graze Muramasa’s face.

They fell together, a flurry of rapid swings flashing in mid-air. Muramasa stumbled as they landed, his legs both bleeding and his pants shredded. He was still fighting, but Hannah’s bombs had actually managed to hurt him. I couldn’t tell how badly — his expression showed only minor discomfort.

Hannah continued battering at Muramasa after they landed, forcing him down to his knees. When she raised her hands for a massive two-handed strike, his sword flew off his back to intercept the blow, sending up another shower of sparks.

Then, in a heartbeat, Muramasa’s sword was drawn and Hannah was the one falling back. A single horizontal swing sent Hannah into a full retreat, and I quickly understood why: the massive blade passed through Hannah’s essence blades without resistance.

I winced.

If her essence blades couldn’t block him, and she gave him time to recover…

It happened in an eyeblink — Muramasa was standing again and Hannah was clutching a wound on her left arm. She’d missed her window to finish the fight. Muramasa clearly had the same impression, advancing slowly and taking probing strikes. Unable to parry, Hannah was forced to dodge, and Muramasa’s superior reach and speed meant that she had no opportunity to close in and counter.

“You likely seek to lure me into another patch of bombs,” Muramasa mused as he continued prodding at her. “That will not work.”

“I’m all out of those, actually. Armory was in short supply. I do have other options, though.” Hannah swept a blade at the nearby fountain, sending a cutting wave through the base. The fountain splintered, sending a flood of tar-like liquid in Muramasa’s direction.

He jumped back immediately, avoiding the tar easily, but that bought Hannah a moment of space.

In that moment, she touched a sword-like symbol on her belt. “Brand.”

A blazing blade appeared in mid-air. Hannah snatched it instantly, then swung the burning brand. A cascade of fire swept outward, igniting the black fluid. There was no explosion this time, just a patch of ignited liquid — but that was all Hannah needed. With a sweep of her other hand, Hannah sent out a wave of force, splashing the burning liquid in Muramasa’s direction.

The burning liquid stopped in mid-air.

“I think not.” Muramasa flickered forward, closing the distance between them in a heartbeat. He stood in easy sword reach, but he didn’t swing. Instead, he simply turned his head down toward her weapon, examining it. “The so-called Ignition Brand. A fake. A copy. You would draw this against me?”

“I’d do more than draw it.” Hannah flashed forward, swinging the Ignition Brand with one hand and an essence blade with her other. Muramasa parried the Ignition Brand with his own sword, but an explosion of flame erupted on impact, scorching his hand and arm. With a wince, he fell back, and Hannah managed to draw another line of blood with her essence blade, this time across his chest.

Another turning point. If Hannah’s sword causes explosions every time their weapons meet, then Muramasa will be forced to—

Muramasa stabbed her through the chest.

His blade pierced through plate, bone, and flesh without the slightest hint of resistance.

I gaped.

Hannah fell to the ground, bleeding into a puddle as her sword fell from numb fingers. Her shoddy crown slipped from her brow and landed with a hollow clang.

Muramasa shook his sword once in the air, clearing Hannah’s blood from the blade, then returned it to his scabbard. “In the end, you were just another puppet.”

***

I wasn’t in my box to see if the emperor descended to give Muramasa a prize. I was rushing to the hospital.

“She’s in surgery. No, you can’t see her.” The guards told me at the door. “I can only assure you that the Royal Executioner will receive the absolute best care.”

I wasn’t sure the absolute best care would be good enough. That massive sword had gone straight through the middle of her chest. It would have been a miracle if it hadn’t at least nicked her heart.

That said, there was nothing I could do.

<…They say Edria Song has six attunements and the blessings of the visages. Maybe she’ll intervene on Hannah’s behalf personally.>

Maybe.

I grit my teeth.

He didn’t have to do that. If he was that fast…

<Do you think he was toying with her the whole time?>

No. I think she was actually pressuring him. At the end, there, I suspect he used a speed-boosting technique. That was even faster than his usual movement. But if he had that…he could have gone for her arm.

<Maybe. And maybe she would have kept fighting. It’s a tournament, Keras. People are going to get hurt.>

I know, obviously. But that was a potentially lethal strike. He had to know that.

<Is that really a surprise? He nearly killed you, too.>

I frowned. Maybe. I moved, but…I don’t think he aimed for my heart.

<I’m pretty sure he did.> Dawn paused. <…But you don’t want to believe that. Why? You know not everyone has your moral hang-ups. What makes you so invested in Muramasa?>

I hung my head as I walked up the stairs back to my box.

…Because he reminds me of me. And if he can fight like that, without any care for the survival of his opponents…

<You’re not going to be the same way. You have me, remember?>

I remember.

<And as long as I’m with you, I promise you this — I won’t let you be like him.>

It was a good promise.

…As long as she was with me.

CHAPTER XXVI – SWORDS AND SERPENTS

Reika returned shortly after the match concluded. We waited together for the next match to start, occasionally snacking while we discussed our guesses on how it would go. Eventually, the announcer explained that the match would be starting in fifteen minutes and asked people to take their seats.

“I’m going to go wish Shun luck. You coming?” Reika asked.

I shook my head. “I don’t really know him very well, and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t like me.”

“It’s not that, silly. He just takes a while to warm up to people. That, and he’s been itchy because of the Tails of Orochi trying to eat him.”

I frowned. “Did you ever find out more about that?”

“Oh, yeah, sure. I think Shun and I took care of all the tails that were participating in previous rounds, though. Didn’t I tell you?”

“I’m…pretty sure you didn’t?” I blinked. “Is that what you and Shun were doing before the Battle Royale?”

“Yep!” She grinned. “And after, too. We were busy! So much punching. It was great! I’ll have to tell you about that arc sometime. Anyway, he’s doing better now that we don’t have the looming threat of hydras eating us.”

“…Couldn’t they still try to ambush you outside of the arena, if they’re here?”

She shrugged. “I mean, yeah, sure. But I think we taught them a lesson. It’s more likely they’ll report back to leadership in the Unclaimed Lands and try to murder us when we go back there.”

“I suppose we have that to look forward to, then.” I sighed.

Reika beamed, apparently missing my sarcasm. “Yep! Anyway, I’m heading down.”

She left the box, heading down to meet Shun and talk to him before the match. I made a note to ask her more about the Tails of Orochi later, but I supposed that it wasn’t an immediate concern. But don’t worry, unlike some people, I actually follow up on my “to do” list in a timely fashion.

Anyway, I switched to chatting with Dawn for a bit, then it was time for the match to start.

The introductions of the combatants didn’t provide me with any new information. I was, however, interested to see the choice they’d picked for their arena: the Mana Core Stadium.

As expected, the arena was exactly the same setup we used for the sport, minus the ball in the center. That meant that it did include the aura of shadow that reduced the physical and magical abilities of the combatants.

If I had to guess, they’d picked the arena as a deliberate way of setting up a rematch for our team fight. Ishyeal’s team had beaten us, but on the other hand, Shun had once scored a point against Ishyeal’s entire team. In either case, a victory here would be a statement. In Ishyeal’s case, it would be affirmation of his previous win. In Shun’s, it would be a form of redemption for our team’s previous loss.

I shook my head as they took their positions on opposite sides of the field. In my mind, Shun had chosen poorly. The clear line of sight across the field meant that Ishyeal could teleport freely without difficulty, and we’d already seen that he could protect himself from the arena’s power-syphoning shadows.

Was Shun willingly fighting at a disadvantage, or did he know something I didn’t? Or both?

I wished I’d asked Reika more about what she’d learned about Shun’s fighting abilities, but in some respects, this was more interesting. Sometimes, it was fun to be surprised.

“Begin!”

Ishyeal vanished from his position, reappearing right behind Shun.

“Nothing personal.” Soulbrand flashed toward Shun’s back, only to be deflected by a stone shield that manifested in mid-air. The shield glowed on impact, then began to melt as Ishyeal pushed straight through it.

Shun tapped his foot on the ground, a glowing ring of green appearing beneath him. I recognized it as some kind of beneficial spell effect, similar to what he’d used on our group for the Mana Core match, but it was subtly different.

Then he turned, more slowly than necessary, stepping back just out of Soulbrand’s reach. When Ishyeal had finished slicing through the first shield, Shun conjured three more, which floated and rotated around him. Then, with a languid motion, he unslung the bow from his back. “Agreed. You are just one more hill to climb. Nothing personal.”

Ishyeal vanished again, appearing in mid-air above Shun and hurling a blast of flame downward with his left hand. Shun’s shields swiveled upward to block the blast while he pulled back his bowstring, a crystalline arrow manifesting in his fingers.

As Shun’s shields melted into slag, he fired his arrow upward. Ishyeal, still hovering in mid-air, slapped the arrow with Soulbrand to knock it off course. The arrow exploded on contact with the weapon, creating a field of crystals that spread instantly across Soulbrand’s surface, trapping the weapon.

“Got him!” Reika cheered.

Ishyeal vanished, reappearing across the arena with his crystal-laden sword outstretched. Soulbrand glowed brighter and brighter inside the crystal prison, the blade shifting to pure red. The crystal melted in moments.

“Ooh, don’t got him.” Reika winced.

Shun fired another arrow across the arena, then another, but Soulbrand’s wielder simply side-stepped them. The third arrow shifted in mid-air, seeming to arc toward Ishyeal on its own accord. A wave of Ishyeal’s hand liquified it with a jet of flame, but the liquified crystal kept moving toward him. His eyes widened for just a moment, then he drew a circle in mid-air with his free hand, leaving a gleaming ring where his fingers had passed.

When the liquid crystal reached the ring, it vanished, then reappeared behind Shun.

Shun reacted in an instant, snapping his fingers and causing the liquid crystal to fall to the ground, inert. That distraction cost him. Ishyeal vanished and reappeared mere inches away from his opponent, slamming Soulbrand’s pommel straight into Shun’s chin.

Shun’s head snapped back, but he recovered quickly, swinging his bow like a melee weapon in response.

Ishyeal grabbed the bow with his own free hand, then wrenched down. Shun didn’t bother struggling — he just let go of the bow and moved far faster than before, grabbing Ishyeal’s arms with both hands.

“Eternal Hold.”

In an instant, Ishyeal’s upper arms had turned to stone. He vanished, reappearing across the arena. The petrification effect spread rapidly downward. “That was your plan all along, wasn’t it? Bait me close enough to touch.”

Shun kicked his fallen bow upward back into his grip and conjured another arrow. “No.” He paused, his arrow beginning to glow. “I thought this would be much harder.”

Then he fired, his arrow splitting into a dozen individual shards of crystal in mid-air.

Ishyeal vanished again, reappearing just a sword-length apart from Shun and barely managing to swing his half-petrified arms enough to get Soulbrand moving in the right direction.

Shun didn’t move — the arena floor did. Stone shot upward, blocking the swing, then more moved to encircle Ishyeal’s legs. Shun took a hand off his bow to pull something off his belt — a large key made out of black crystal — then hurled it into the ground. The key sank into the ground, then with a gesture, turned in place with an audible click.

The stone surrounding Ishyeal’s body flickered and turned dull white.

“I was expecting anti-teleportation measures, but this is admittedly impressive.” Ishyeal seemed to struggle within the white stone, then tipped his hat. “I underestimated you.”

Shun nocked another arrow. “Do you yield, then?”

Ishyeal scoffed. “Hardly. You might have—”

Shun fired the arrow before Ishyeal could finish speaking. They were nearly at point-blank range and Ishyeal had no visible way to dodge.

So, he didn’t. He simply blinked, then the arrow combusted, the molten liquid impacting his half-petrified body with no visible effect.

“Okay, rude. I was still talking.” Ishyeal grunted as Shun nocked another arrow, then whispered something.

The stone around Ishyeal’s body cracked, rays of light spilling out through the fractures. Then, in an instant, he was moving again, his body still half-covered in rock.

Shun stepped back, firing an arrow, but Ishyeal blocked it with a half-petrified arm. Crystals spread across the arm in an instant, but Ishyeal kept moving forward faster than Shun was moving back.

Soulbrand flashed. A wall of stone blocked.

Fire burst from Ishyeal’s other arm, rapidly melting through layers of crystal and stone. Shun snapped his fingers, causing twin walls of stone to manifest around Ishyeal and slam inward with devastating force.

Ishyeal dropped his sword, his arms shooting outward to catch the pair of walls. He grunted as Soulbrand tumbled from his grip toward the arena floor.

Shun nocked another arrow as Ishyeal struggled against the pressure of the walls.

In a blur, Ishyeal kicked the pommel of his own still-falling sword, sending Soulbrand blazing toward Shun’s chest.

Shun leapt out of the sword’s path.

“Crimson Sign.”

The arena was bathed in red as the runes on Soulbrand’s blade flashed, then the flames that wreathed the blade exploded outward in a massive sphere. Shun was smashed out of the air and hurled to the ground by the blast, but not before loosing his arrow.

A crystal arrow slammed straight into Ishyeal’s chest, sinking deep. Blood flowed freely from the wound.

Soulbrand clattered to the ground.

Shun grunted on the floor, painfully pushing himself upward. The entire right side of his body was blistered and burned from the explosion, but he was still moving. Barely.

And barely wasn’t fast enough.

By the time he was on his feet, Ishyeal had vanished and reappeared right in front of Shun.

“Time is up.” Ishyeal’s body was still half-encrusted in stone and crystal.

That was probably inconvenient, but it also made him hit a lot harder when he pulled back his crystal-and-stone covered arm and punched Shun in the face.

Shun flew backward on impact, hitting the ground and sliding. Somehow, he managed to conjure another arrow and fire mid-movement. The arrow grazed Ishyeal’s face, drawing a line of blood, but nothing further.

Now on the ground, Shun waved a hand, shifting the floor beneath Ishyeal into spikes. It was too slow.

Ishyeal surged forward in a blur of light. With a snap of his fingers, Soulbrand reappeared in his right hand. Still moving, he swung the burning blade downward.

Shun raised his bow to block.

Soulbrand melted right through it.

Then the Sacred Sword of Fire rested against Shun’s chest.

A heartbeat passed before Shun finally spoke:

“…I yield.”

And with that, the match was over.

***

Reika and I watched as Ishyeal withdrew his sword, then helped Shun to his feet.

“Poor Shun. He tried so hard.”

I nodded. He’d underestimated Ishyeal.

In truth, so had I.

Even having watched the match, I wasn’t sure if Shun’s trick with the key had ever prevented Ishyeal from teleporting, or if Ishyeal had simply chosen to pretend that he couldn’t. It was possible that Ishyeal had actually been locked in place until he’d used the ability that caused light to stream from his body, but it’s also possible that was just a visual trick, or perhaps something that loosened the effect of the petrification spell on his body.

That distinction was important. If he’d been faking the entire time, my Planelock Boots were probably useless. If he had to actively dispel the anti-teleportation effect somehow, that made keeping him trapped much more viable.

As for whether or not the stone had ever been effective, that was even harder to tell…but less relevant to our own match. I wasn’t planning to petrify him, after all.

Perhaps more important than any of that, though, was the fact that Ishyeal could seemingly activate Soulbrand even when the sword wasn’t in his hands. Disarming him had been among my plans, but if he could activate the sword remotely and simply teleport it to his hand at any time…well, that made removing Soulbrand itself from the fight much less viable.

“Keras? You’re being quiet.”

I frowned. “Sorry. Just thinking about the match.”

“Yeah, me too…we should go see Shun while he’s healing and make him feel better.”

I felt a little guilty for it, but that hadn’t been my concern at all.

When the time came for my own match with Ishyeal, I wanted to be ready.

But after seeing that fight…

I wasn’t sure if being ready for Ishyeal Dawnsglow was even possible.

***

As with each previous match, the emperor himself appeared in the arena to congratulate the winner. And as with before, he offered a gift. Ishyeal gratefully accepted his prize with a bow, entirely ignoring the arrow still lodged in his chest.

After that, both combatants were ushered off for medical treatment.

Reika went to visit Shun, but only briefly.

She wanted to be back in time to wish me luck, after all.

It was finally time for my own match.

***

<Deep breaths, Keras. Deep breaths.>

I shook my head. Dawn sounded more nervous than I felt. I could understand why.

The Green Guardian had tried to take her away from me before. But while that might have worried her, it only gave me additional resolve.

I could have beaten him in a straight fight before. He was certain to be stronger now, better equipped. Perhaps he’d prepared for me directly, much like Shun seemingly had picked up that key as a countermeasure to Ishyeal’s teleportation.

In truth, I didn’t think it would matter.

I’d grown stronger since our last bout, too. Much stronger.

And if he tried to take Dawn again…

…Well, there was no effective countermeasure to being removed from existence.

<Careful, there. I’m scared, but…I don’t want you to kill someone for me. And you shouldn’t want that, either.>

It was only then that I did take those deep breaths like she’d asked.

Dawn was right.

I wasn’t completely back to myself…or, rather, the “myself” I’d been before fighting Akadi with Body of Annihilation. I still wasn’t sure if those violent instincts that the Dominion Breaker had given me were a part of my nature…but even if they were, I didn’t want them to define me.

If my nature was to fight, I could fight my own instincts.

<Breathe.>

One breath, then another.

I refocused my mind.

Then, it was time to move. I took my place in the waiting room. The doorway to the arena opened. It was a portal, of course, since our arena was physically elsewhere.

I’m ready. I can do this.

We can do this.

<Together.>

Together.

We stepped through without hesitation.

…And my heart faltered as I took in my surroundings.

No. It can’t be.

I took in shattered buildings, collapsed walls, and scorched streets. My jaw tightened.

It was fake, of course. A reconstruction of an “ancient civilization”, built simply for the purpose of the arena match.

But as I took in that broken mortar and stone, I recognized it even before the announcer explained.

“Our battle begins in a reproduction of a city from the Valian homeland…”

“The fallen city of Velthryn.”

CHAPTER XXVII – HOLLOW KNIGHT

My eyes narrowed as the Green Guardian appeared in the distance, standing at the crossing of two of the too-familiar streets of my ruined home.

Did he know? Did he…select this intentionally?

<Keras, you’re gripping me a little tightly.>

I frowned, realizing that she was right. She didn’t have nerves, so she must have felt it through my body.

I loosened my grip.

Sorry.

The announcer was still droning on, but I paid no attention to him. I was too distracted by my surroundings.

It wasn’t a perfect reconstruction, but…it was close enough.

Someone knew what Velthryn had looked like. Enough to create a reasonable facsimile.

Was it a coincidence, or something calculated?

Taer’vys could have done this to break my morale. Or someone else who knows I was asking about the city, maybe…Alex Theas, or Hartigan, or…

<It doesn’t matter right now, Keras. All that matters is your match. It’s not really your home.>

I closed my eyes. She was right, of course.

<Breathe.>

I took a breath. One, two. In, out.

I steadied myself.

It’s not real.

It was harder to dismiss than I might have expected. Velthryn…just seeing it reminded me of my friends.

Had I already failed them? Was there a chance to save them, somehow, if I hurried back to Mythralis? Would I have to abandon my mission to do so?

<The match, Keras.>

She was right.

I snapped myself out of it as best I could…and took a second look at my surroundings, with clearer eyes.

I knew this street. Baker, in the Knightsgate District. And the next street was Forge, and if I made a left at Forge…

I couldn’t smile, but I refocused.

The Green Guardian was barely visible, but it wouldn’t take me long to close the distance if I decided to. He’d expect that. It’s what I’d usually do, after all. And after that, he’d either raise a pillar of stone or fly out of easy reach.

In an urban environment, he could maneuver around me effortlessly. I had limited options for countering that under ordinary circumstances, but here…

“Begin!” The announcer’s voice snapped me out of my reverie.

I charged, as expected.

…But not at my opponent. I raced down the broken street, toward the Green Guardian at first, then veering sharply to the left.

I kept running. I could feel the Green Guardian’s position, moving upward rapidly, either via flight or one of his pillars. He was out of my sight now as I raced down the streets of Forge and…

There it was.

I spun sharply, rushing straight toward the doors of one of the eponymous blacksmithing workshops that gave the street its name. It was one of the largest buildings on the street, a three-story structure that looked mostly intact. If this fake city was built properly on the inside…

I smashed through the door without stopping, then scanned the interior of the shop.

Perfect.

<You feeling better?>

I looked around, taking in familiar equipment on shelves and walls.

A smirk slid across my face.

Oh, yes.

I shuffled around the shop, distantly feeling the Green Guardian moving slowly in my direction. I couldn’t sense his mode of transportation, just an idea of his current position. Even that sense was limited. He had something that felt like a sacred sword, but it wasn’t as strong of a sensation as I got from the weapons themselves.

An amulet, maybe, or one of the pieces of Diamantine. It’s something like that.

I’d investigate later.

For the moment, I was busy with assembling something that wasn’t really built for one person. Fortunately, all the pieces were present.

Whoever had set this place up deserved my compliments, even if they’d done it in an effort to break me.

I finished my project, then walked around the room, briefly tapping several items and concentrating.

Then, I waited. Unlike many of the surrounding buildings, this one looked structurally stable.

When the Green Guardian finally swept down from the sky to appear in the doorway, I felt a twinge of disappointment.

I couldn’t see his expression when I fired the ballista straight out the door.

It had to be a wonderful surprise. Most people didn’t pay attention to where a city built their siege weapons, after all.

He flew upward in an instant, easily dodging the gigantic steel-tipped bolt. I’d known he would.

Pull.

With a twist of my mind, I wrenched on a series of metal bars two-stories up. When those bars slipped, they upended the cauldrons of oil that I’d positioned next to the third-story window.

So, as the Green Guardian flew upward, he shot straight into the path of four cauldrons’ worth of oil.

…Well, three, really. One of the cauldrons didn’t tip the way I wanted it to. Cauldrons of oil were heavy.

I felt a burst of power as he formed a barrier of crystal above him like a gigantic umbrella, deflecting most of the oil.

I knew he’d maneuver again almost immediately, but for the moment, he’d effectively walled himself in, with crystal above and oil pouring down on his sides.

I drew Dawn and, in a single motion, aimed and cut. A crescent of light, reinforced by a mere fraction of my cutting aura, tore straight through the building wall and flashed toward my opponent.

He must have sensed it coming. He shot downward, back in line with the door. I waved a hand, sending a dozen magnetized weapons flashing out the doorway.

With a wave of his own, he raised a barrier of crystal, blocking the magnetized gear. I slashed with Dawn again, sending a cutting wave to slice through his wall.

He flew through the remnants of the oil, which had slowed to a trickle. Hoping the oil hindered his visibility, I charged, smashing straight through the building wall.

He reacted faster than I expected when I burst through the stone, but he wasn’t quite quick enough. In a moment, I was nearly on top of him. He formed a crystal sword, presumably to parry an incoming swing from Dawn.

But he’d gambled wrong. When I leapt at him, I wasn’t going for a cut.

Body of Stone.

I crashed straight into him, pulling him out of the air with the weight of my stone-reinforced body. His free hand formed a fist and clipped me in the chin before we even hit the ground. I barely felt it. Then, together, we slammed into the street.

As I hoped, I landed on top. We struggled for a moment as I slipped in contact with the oil on his armor, then I slammed Dawn’s pommel into his crystal helmet.

His neck snapped back, then he growled and slammed his forehead into mine.

I felt the impact, but only barely. I think he made me bleed just a little.

But I hit him back a lot harder. First with Dawn’s hilt again, then with my fist. “You’re down. Yield.”

“You are unworthy.” He managed to get an elbow into my stomach, which I barely felt. He tried to whip his crystal sword around to hit me, but he was in a bad position. I grabbed the blade with my free hand before he could land a hit.

That may have been my first major mistake.

Crystals began to form around my hand, and before I could pull free, my hand had gotten stuck to the blade of his weapon. When I shifted to try to slash through the crystals with Dawn, the Green Guardian pressed his other hand against my chest.

There was a flash of green as a massive cluster of crystal formed across my torso, then began to rapidly spread.

“Keras Selyrian, you have failed—”

Dawn slipped free of my grip, then flipped in mid-air of her own accord. Her tip pressed down against the Green Guardian’s neck.

“Yield.” I repeated.

The crystals on my body ceased to spread. Not because I’d resisted his power: he’d actively stopped forming them.

“You…” The Green Guardian’s voice trembled, but not out of fear from the sword at his throat. While Dawn could have likely invoked a fraction of my power to cut through his crystal armor, he didn’t sound concerned for his own fate. “You moved.”

In that moment, I realized that he wasn’t talking to me.

<I did.>

Dawn was physically in contact with him now. Even without a bond, The Green Guardian would be able to hear her voice if she chose to send it to him.

The Green Guardian immediately went still. I didn’t blame him. I was pretty surprised, too. She wasn’t usually willing to take this kind of risk, and we knew virtually nothing about our opponent, save that he’d made some cryptic statements about her before.

I was more startled, however, by the response.

Not in words.

Directly in my mind.

[[This changes everything.]]

I heard Dawn gasp. Apparently, she’d heard the voice, too.

I spoke next. “Who are you? What—”

[[No, not out loud. Hit me again.]]

His crystals receded just enough for me to regain the full use of my right arm. I punched him in the face. His head jerked back more than strictly necessary.

I pulled my hand back with a frown. What’s your game?

[[Dawnbringer. Are you with him of your own free will?]]

<I am. I told you last time, when you tried to steal me. Who even are you? Why do you care? Are you one of my old…>

[[No, I was not your wielder. We are…hit me again, quickly.]]

I punched him again. We wrestled awkwardly for a moment as he created more crystals and I rapidly reshaped them to the best of my ability.

[[If you win here, will you fight Edria Song with your full strength?]]

We will. <We will.>

Something seemed to change in his faux-struggles when Dawn and I spoke as one.

[[It is settled, then. Once more.]]

I released Body of Stone and gave him another half-hearted punch.

“I…am defeated…”

His voice rang out loudly. I pulled my hand back, trying not to look too incredulous about his performance.

[[Quickly, you must move Dawnbringer. Before someone realizes you’re not just moving her with magnetism.]]

I retrieved Dawnbringer from his neck, sheathing her. The remaining crystals on my body crumbled, freeing me to stand. I offered The Green Guardian a hand, then helped him to his feet to the sound of uproarious applause from the audience.

He faked a stumble. I slipped an arm under his shoulder immediately, pretending to help him stand.

<Keep him in contact with me.>

In spite of the risks, I shifted to allow The Green Guardian’s hand to settle near Dawn’s pommel, allowing them to communicate.

Care to explain who you really are?

[[We have precious limited time right now. The emperor will arrive in the arena in a few seconds.]]

He was right. The announcer was announcing me as the victor, and I knew that the emperor would arrive to congratulate me just as he had with the other fighters.

Spit it out, then.

[[She may trust you, but I do not. For now, know this: I am an ally to Edria and the Six Sacred Swords. If you succeed in your next round, I will find you and we will speak. I could not defeat her, but if you and Dawnbringer are united, then perhaps…]]

<Wait. Who are you? Please, at least tell me—>

[[Take this, quickly.]]

He opened his hand toward me, revealing a pendant with a green crystal. I raised an eyebrow, but accepted the gift and tucked it away.

“What is this?” I asked.

“A small gift, to encourage you in your final matches.”

His mental reply was different from his verbal one.

[[It will allow me to aid you, should you need it.]]

“Thank you?” I frowned.

I don’t want outside help during my matches.

[[No, I would not do such a thing. It’s for other concerns.]]

Assassins?

[[You may think of them as such.]]

I frowned at that, wishing for clarity, but a moment later our chance to discuss things privately was over.

Emperor Edria Fang stood in front of us. Subtly, the Green Guardian shifted to stand up straighter, and his hand moved away from Dawnbringer.

There was a flash of something in the emperor’s expression. Suspicion, perhaps? Had our feigned fighting and strange positions alerted him to something amiss?

If so, he said nothing. His expression was stern as he spoke. “Congratulations to you both. Your battle was a great one, but the Wielder of Dawnbringer has proven the victor. Stand apart from one another so that I might impart my gift to the victor.”

The Green Guardian pulled away from me to stand on his own. He managed to look like he was moving with some difficulty, which was a good addition to his overall performance.

The emperor snapped his fingers. A small box appeared in his right hand. “Keras Selyrian. You have fought well to prevail in your final round. Please accept this award for your victory.”

He extended a hand to offer me the box.

“Thank you, Emperor Fang.” I bowed politely as I’d been taught, then accepted the box with both hands.

“Good.” His eyes narrowed dangerously. “Victory must be properly rewarded.”

With that, he vanished in a crack of thunder.

I turned toward my opponent. Arena staff were beginning to appear around us, ready to transport us to separate rooms for medical treatment.

I stepped toward the Green Guardian to speak again in those few moments, but he simply shook his head.

Then, to my disappointment, we were ushered apart.

<Keras…>

I felt a strangely intense feeling of loss in those moments, but it wasn’t my own.

CHAPTER XXVIII – ABSENCE OF FATE

The aftermath of the match was a blur. I went for medical treatment as required, but I didn’t need much. He’d managed to bloody my forehead and scrape me a couple times, but that was about it. My aggression had been a part of securing an easy victory, but I knew that the Green Guardian hadn’t fought to his fullest.

We need to figure out what his goals really are.

<Yeah. He’s clearly hiding something. Seems like a trend around here.>

Agreed. These secrets are infuriating. Can’t we all just punch each other like civilized people?

<Such a wonderful dream. So, should we go try to find him?>

Definitely. Soon.

For the moment, I was exhausted from using a fair bit of metal sorcery. I needed to eat.

So, naturally, I went straight to Reika as soon as I was dismissed.

“Congratulations!” Reika threw her arms around me. I pulled her close.

“We need to talk.”

She blinked at me. “…Okay?”

We retreated from the arena after that. My match had been the last one for the day, anyway.

While we walked, I tucked away my gift from the emperor. I’d investigate it later…ideally in a place where I could check for traps.

I didn’t think he’d be that petty, but I wasn’t dismissing any possibilities.

Reika and I found food, then took it back to the Study of Iron. We accepted a series of congratulations from the people there, then retired to my room to eat in private.

I put my mask on.

“That serious?” Reika asked.

I nodded. “The Green Guardian was able to communicate with Dawn and me telepathically after I pinned him. He’s related to the swords somehow, but he wouldn’t say how.”

I filled her in on the rest of what had happened over the minutes that followed.

“So, in conclusion, he let himself lose. Apparently because he thinks he couldn’t beat Edria Song, but he thinks we could.”

Reika wrinkled her nose. “He’s supposed to be the protector of Edria’s common people, so I guess it makes sense that he’d want her to lose. But…do you think you could have beaten him if he didn’t surrender?”

I nodded. “Definitely. Not bragging this time. Not only did I have him down, but…I could sense his crystals much more easily this time. Even if I didn’t use my aura to annihilate them…I think I could have shaped them pretty easily. More easily than I’d expected. They felt like…”

<Like Diamantine.>

I frowned, but nodded. “Yeah. You know how the amulets for each sacred sword give you resistance to that sword’s powers? I think training with Diamantine’s amulet made me more in-tune with those crystals.”

“Meaning those crystals might be from Diamantine?” Reika seemed to ponder that. “Well, we knew the sword had been potentially split up. If he has a piece of it…that would make a lot of sense, actually. Maybe he’s a bastard son of the emperor, fighting to regain his rightful place on the throne?”

“I…suppose that’s possible. But there’s something a little more likely, I think.”

“Oh?” If Reika was offended that I didn’t approve of her “secret prince” explanation, she didn’t show it. She just looked excited. “What’s that?”

“Reika…what if the Green Guardian is literally a guardian? Like you, but for Diamantine? And his powers could come from forming a bond with it.”

If she’d been holding a cup, I think she might have dramatically dropped it. Instead, her jaw simply went slack for a moment. “No.” She frowned. “A guardian wouldn’t bond with their sword, wouldn’t…”

She winced. I didn’t have to point out that she had, in fact, already bonded with her own charge during a time of crisis.

“Sorry.” I patted her on the shoulder. “You need to stop blaming yourself for doing something that saved Dawn’s life.”

“I know, I know. It’s just…” She sighed. “I don’t want to believe that someone else failed the way that I did.”

<That wasn’t a failure, Rei.>

“I, sorry. I didn’t mean…” She shook her head. “But it still doesn’t make sense. Diamantine’s guardians are supposed to be the royal family.”

“Could be both of our theories, then? Or maybe he’s something like Hannah. A royal guard, maybe, entrusted with a piece of Diamantine by the emperor.”

“We still don’t know if that’s exactly what Hannah’s deal is. But…I suppose it makes a degree of sense.”

We spent a bit longer chatting after that, discussing several other options, but came to no clear conclusions.

We decided that we’d try to look for him the next day, but we knew it would be a long shot.

As for the rest of that night…well, we had other plans.

***

In the middle of the night, we went for a hunt.

Not for more food, not for monsters.

No, we were hunting for the elusive Anabelle Farren. And our hunting ground?

The Twilight Test casino.

That was the address on the card she’d given me. There was, infuriatingly, no room number. And, in spite of our identities and apparent invitation, the front desk staff wouldn’t give us her room’s location. A security thing, apparently. It made a sort of sense.

So, we roamed through the smoke-filled air, hoping that we’d find some sign of Farren’s location.

<It’s times like this I’m glad I don’t have to breathe.>

Dawn was right. I’d been in places filled with tobacco smoke and other herbs before, but never with the level of saturation that the casino had.

How could anyone enjoy this atmosphere?

<I have a feeling they learn to ignore it. Games help people ignore a lot of things.>

I could see the appeal of the games, at least. Card tables were everywhere, as well as plenty of other types of games I wasn’t as familiar with. Things with tossed dice and spinning wheels. Even metallic boxes that people seemed to be putting money directly into. I didn’t see the appeal of those.

After searching that side of the building without success, we considered our other options. Checking the halls upstairs directly seemed awkward, but there were also restaurants and other places for entertainment.

“Dance club! Dance club!” Reika pointed enthusiastically. “Let’s go!”

I raised an eyebrow. “You think she’s the dancing type?”

“Dunno, but I am! Come on!” Reika grabbed my hand and dragged me toward the door.

The dance club was loud, and the central arena involved bodies pressed so close together that I was hard pressed (heh) to even call what they were doing “dancing”.

Reika dragged me to the dance floor. And, after a few drinks and a chance to acclimate to the still-present scent of smoke, I had to admit…

Being that close to Reika, feeling the vibrations of the music in my body and mind…it wasn’t bad.

Not bad at all.

Even then, though, I couldn’t let myself relax completely. Finding Farren that night didn’t seem that important to Reika, but we weren’t just there for her.

You want to head out and look again?

<…It’s okay. You two can have fun. I don’t mind.>

That might have been more convincing if I couldn’t feel the emotions coming from her. Anxiety. Envy. Loneliness.

A mischievous grin crossed my lips.

How about you take a turn?

<A…turn?>

I closed my eyes.

Come on, take over. You’ve done it before.

<Uh, like a little bit! When we were alone! This is…different!>

So, you don’t want to dance with Rei?

Her response was so quiet I couldn’t quite make it out, which was a little strange, given that it was telepathic. <…with you…>

What was that?

<…Never mind. Ask her for permission first?>

Oh, sure.

I leaned over to whisper in Rei’s ear. Her eyes widened, then she snorted. “Uh, yeah! That sounds like a blast! Do the thing, Keras!”

I laughed.

Let’s do this.

<Okay. Brace yourself.>

For what?

<All the people you’ll be impressing with my incredible dancing skills, obviously.>

I laughed. Then, I tripped over Reika’s feet.

Or, rather, Dawn did.

Reika snickered. “Shink you might have ‘ad too much to drink.” She frowned. “Wait, if it’s her, then…would that…?”

“Nope, she’s sober. Anyway, sorry.” I smiled. “Let’s take it slow for a minute.”

“Pfft. Not like a little tripping is gonna’ hurt me. C’mon.”

I grinned. Let’s try again.

My right arm moved without my prompting, pulling Reika tighter against me. Her eyes widened in sudden surprise, then her lips twisted upward in mirth. “Oh, how very forward of you. That’s better.”

And then we danced.

All three of us.

***

Minutes passed. Then, possibly hours…it was hard to say.

More drinks were had.

And Dawn’s motions, shifting my body from place to place, seemed to grow more and more natural.

And from natural, they grew into something I might have even called graceful.

As we grew tired, switching from alcohol to water, Reika rested her forehead against mine. “It’s her, isn’t it?”

“Hmm?” I raised an eyebrow.

“…In the corner, with the golems.”

I blinked, momentarily pulling away of my own accord, which drew a pout from Reika’s lips.

She was right. Anabelle Farren was dancing in the corner of the room, her taciturn bodyguard standing with his back against the wall, accompanied by two gigantic golems. Clarent was there, too, dancing with another woman I didn’t recognize.

I’d like to say I didn’t know how I’d missed the two gigantic golems entering the room, but I did.

I had, on that strange occasion, been entirely focused on sharing a good time with people that I loved.

…And Dawn had been, too. As our dance had progressed, lofty goals had somehow faded away into a trance of just…bodies, minds, and music, joined in one.

“You’re right,” I mumbled, control of my body gradually returning. “Should we?”

“I suppose so, but…” She winked at me. “Be sneaky. She wants to be surprised, remember?”

I considered, then returned her mischievous look. “I’ve got this.”

I grudgingly parted from Reika for the moment, slipping out of the crowd.

Then, for a moment, I concentrated.

Sneaking up on someone with precognition wasn’t exactly easy, but I had a way to cheat.

Mask.

Just like when I’d fought Muramasa, I drew on my own essence to try to emulate the power of the Mask of Kishor. It wasn’t going to be as powerful as the mask itself, but hopefully, together with my innate abilities…

I snuck around the crowd. And, not being totally insane, I paused near Nakht, Farren’s bodyguard, and gave him a nod of acknowledgement.

He raised an eyebrow at me. I raised a finger in a universal “sssh” gesture.

Nakht gave me a tiny, uncharacteristic hint of a smile. Then a “go ahead” gesture.

Moments later, I was sneaking up right behind Farren. Given the press of bodies in the crowd, it was much easier than it might have been in most areas.

I tapped her on the shoulder.

She spun and shrieked.

The crowd parted around us in sudden alarm.

I opened my hands in surrender. “…Surprise?”

Anabelle Farren took one look at me and fainted.

***

The next few minutes involved dealing with some overwhelmed and exasperated hotel security guards. Fortunately, Farren’s bodyguard, Nakht, was able to smooth things over. Farren herself woke within less than a minute, but still appeared to be disoriented.

I released the mask power that I’d copied almost immediately, since I suspected that was what had caused her reaction. If she was constantly using some kind of future sight and I showed up as a gap in it, perhaps that had given her a bad reaction.

Or maybe she just was so used to seeing everything that she couldn’t handle being surprised.

Anyway, Nakht gave us a quick command to “come along”, picked Farren up, and carried her up to her hotel room. Kamaria Clarent seemed to notice us leaving, but simply gave us a quick raised eyebrow then went back to dancing. Reika looked like she was tempted to do the same, but I dragged her along.

A few minutes later, we were sitting in a ring of chairs in a luxurious hotel room. Nakht forced a glass of water into Farren’s hand and she downed it in a single gulp.

“So,” Farren began, then broke into a series of coughs, presumably having swallowed too quickly. She raised a finger for us to wait, kept coughing, then let out a sigh after a minute and started again. “…I really need to remember not to involve myself with anyone I can’t see. You’re the absolute worst.”

I folded my arms. “You did tell me to surprise you.”

“Correction, then. I am the worst.” She groaned, reaching out toward Nakht. Somehow, he already had another cup of water. She downed that, too. “Okay, you win. You have the full attention of a mostly sober Farren.”

I glanced to Reika in the chair at my right. “You want to go first? Your side is simpler.”

“Sure!” She reached into a pouch, which made Nakht momentarily tense before he saw that she was just pulling out a folded piece of paper. She passed it to Farren.

Farren didn’t even bother to examine it. “Yeah, yeah. Free attunement.” She winced, handing off her empty glass and then reaching up to rub her temples. “Oh. You’re complicated. Okay.” She took a deep breath, closing her eyes. “…Fastest route is…” She paused, reopened her eyes, then smiled at Reika. “Dragon, huh? Not bad.”

Reika gasped. “Did you get that from watching several different versions of our conversation play out then picking the version you liked the most?”

“No, that part I got from watching you turn into a dragon in the tournament. Like, repeatedly.” Farren sighed. “There aren’t a lot of dragons out there anymore, but there are even fewer people who have figured out how to make contracts with them. You’re young, so you might not know, but there’s a process that monsters have to go through to be valid for typical contract magic for Summoners, Soulblades, and Shapeshifters. That can be passed on to descendants, which is how people can generally contract with serpents and hydras in the spires. But dragons? Most of those are out in the wild.”

“Wait, so…I couldn’t make a bond with a Summoner if I wanted one?” Reika frowned.

“You could, but it’s more work. We cracked the spells for it years ago. Could do it back at the lab, but not here.”

“Does that mean I couldn’t have attunements, either?”

Farren shook her head. “No. I mean, no, it doesn’t mean that, but you still can’t have attunements. Well, you can’t have standard attunements. That’s an entirely different problem set. Standard attunements are built for a specific subset of humans with specific essence and spirit structures. Yours are totally different.”

“…Oh.” Reika’s shoulders slumped. “So, you can’t help me?”

“Didn’t say that.” Farren reached up and adjusted her glasses. “You’re not the first non-human that has come to us for an attunement. We’ve done a few of them successfully.”

Nakht coughed.

“…Mostly successfully,” Farren amended. “Any new model of attunement is going to have risk factors, even when used on humans. Side effects are common. And I don’t think we’ve done full dragons. Serpents and hydras, yes, but not dragons.”

Reika’s expression brightened back up in an instant. “So…you’re saying that I’d be getting a completely unique, unstable prototype attunement?”

I heard Dawn’s voice chime in my mind. <Oh, no. In her books…>

I know. Heroes that get weird, special attunements always end up being ludicrously overpowered. She doesn’t actually think that it’s going to work like that, does she?

One glance at Reika’s wide-eyed expression told me that she did, in fact, think that.

I suppressed a groan. “Maybe we should hold off on that until after the tournament?”

Reika gave me her best pleading expression. “But…but…special attunement!”

“Weren’t you telling me just yesterday that you didn’t want to risk the side effects of an attunement dragging you down for your final matches?”

“That was when I thought I was getting a boring normal one!”

I sighed.

Farren quickly interjected. “Waiting isn’t going to be an option. We’ll be departing within the next two days.”

“Before the end of the tournament?” I asked, surprised. “Why?”

“That’s private,” Nakht said, surprising me. He didn’t seem like the type to step in unless he was trying to prevent Farren from saying something she shouldn’t which was…concerning.

“Is there something we should know about the next few days?” I asked.

“No,” Farren replied. “I mean, there are lots of things you’d want to know, but I’m not going to tell you. Believe me, it would be worse for everyone if I did.”

I frowned at that. My mind raced with possibilities, but most of them landed squarely on Akadi. If he was going to attack sometime during the tournament, it made sense that Farren would want to get out of the area before that happened.

Reika finally spoke up. “If my options are getting one now or not at all, I’ll take one.”

“Not right now,” Farren clarified. “I can’t give you a pre-fabricated vial. I mean, well, I could, but it might make you explode.”

“…Explode?” I asked.

“That rarely happens,” Nakht contributed helpfully.

“So, what do we do, then?” Reika asked.

“Tomorrow, I’ll need to take some samples from you and send them to processing. Then, we’ll pop over to the lab and throw some divination spells at you. We’ll compare that to what we have on-file for hydras and serpents. That will give us enough information to refine a vial. Then, we’ll give you the vial. From there, you can either choose to take it immediately or hold on to it and take it after the tournament. I would strongly advise taking it immediately so we can observe you for side effects.”

Reika nodded. “Okay. Where and when do I meet you tomorrow?”

“Here, ten bells.” Farren replied immediately. I hadn’t expected something so exact. “Now, is that it from you? I can feel myself sobering to an unacceptable extent, and I’d like to get back downstairs soon.”

“That’s good for me! I’ll see you tomorrow.” Reika smiled brightly, then turned to me. “Keras, do you want to ask about the other thing?”

“One second.” I paused, directing my thoughts at Dawn.

You still feel comfortable with this?

<Yes, please.>

I nodded to her, then turned to Farren. I admit to feeling a bit of trepidation. We were finally arriving at the conversation that I’d come to Edria for in the first place. “I’d like your help with getting a physical body for a spiritual entity.”

Farren blinked. “You mentioned that before. Or was it later? Doesn’t matter. I can’t say I’ve never tinkered with that sort of thing, but it’s not my primary specialty. What spirit is this?”

I patted the hilt at my left side. “Dawnbringer, the Sacred Sword of Light.”

Farren stared at me, frozen. For a minute, I thought I might have broken her.

“No.”

Her answer was simple, but I could feel Dawn’s anguish when I heard it.

Quickly, I responded to clarify. “You won’t help us?”

Farren blinked. “No, no. I mean that’s ridiculous. Dawnbringer can’t have a spirit. I mean, the sword has spirit magic, obviously, but it wouldn’t support a Soulblade entity or that sort of thing. The security measures on the sacred swords wouldn’t allow tampering on that scale.”

“I don’t think it’s a Soulblade entity. It’s more like she has developed her own independent consciousness, rather than some existing monster being stored inside the sword.”

Farren frowned. “…Have you considered seeing a doctor for all the head trauma you’ve been getting in the arena? It can cause serious delusions, you know.”

I heard a snicker from my sword. That was better than the feeling of crushing dismay she’d been dealing with a few moments earlier, at least.

I sighed. “How about you talk to her yourself?”

Farren looked uncertain. “…And how would I go about doing that?”

“Just put your hand on the hilt. She’s telepathic,” I explained.

“Wait.” Nakht stepped forward. “Hand the sword over, we can do it that way.”

I shook my head. “Can’t risk you doing something to her, sorry. But…”

“No deal, then.” Nakht folded his arms.

“I’ve heard her talk, too. For years.” Reika cut in. “He’s telling the truth.”

“Irrelevant. This is a security matter.” Nakht gave her a withering look. Reika pointedly ignored it.

“Nakht, why don’t you come over and put your hand on the hilt, so you can hear her? We can confirm it that way.” I suggested.

Nakht turned to me. “I would have no way of distinguishing between telepathy from the sword and some kind of sound magic trick. Or magical communication from any other object you’re carrying.”

That was…a surprisingly good point. “…Would she?” I asked, gesturing to Farren.

“Absolutely.” Farren nodded firmly. “Especially if you just handed the sword over.”

Dawn, thoughts?

<…I’m a little scared, but I don’t think they’re going to try to run off with me.>

If they tried, I would pursue them to the end of the universe for you.

I thought I felt something like a blush in response.

<…Th…thanks. Okay. Let’s…uh, try it.>

I tensed. I was still deeply uncomfortable, but it wasn’t my choice. This was Dawn’s decision to make. “She says it’s okay for me to hand her off for a minute. As a precaution, however, I’m going to activate an anti-teleportation item to prevent anyone from leaving the room with her. Is that acceptable?”

Nakht and Farren exchanged looks. Farren spoke up. “It’s fine, as long as you turn your item off before you leave.”

I nodded, then clicked my Planelock Boots together. Then, with great hesitation, I unbuckled my belt, removed the scabbard with Dawn in it, and handed it off to Nakht.

I prepared to magnetically pull Dawn to myself if anything untoward happened. Then, after briefly inspecting Dawn’s handle — presumably looking for hidden needles or other traps — he handed it off to Farren.

<Hello!>

Farren shot to her feet. “No. What?”

Nakht tensed, his hands immediately forming fists. Crackling, unstable crimson energy formed around them. Reika and I shot to our own feet, but Farren simply put a hand on Nakht’s arm and said, “Stop.”

The energy around his fists faded. He gave her a questioning look.

“Sorry,” Farren exhaled. “Just…startled. This is…” She took another breath. “Dawnbringer?”

<You can just call me Dawn.>

Farren looked at the sword incredulously. “You’re…the sword?”

<Yep. Or, uh, the spirit of the sword? I honestly don’t know exactly what I am.>

“And to clarify, you aren’t some kind of monster that was shoved in there?”

<Not that I’m aware of, at least.>

Farren frowned. “How long have you been…like this?”

<If you mean self-aware, around twenty years.>

“Twenty years…that’s…” Farren closed her eyes again. “Do you know how you came to be?”

<Nope. Rei and I have talked about a lot of possibilities, but we can’t be sure.>

Farren raised her free hand to rub her forehead. “This absolutely should not be possible.”

“Can you explain why you feel that way?” I asked.

Farren hesitated, then turned to me and nodded. “Swords do not spontaneously become self-aware, even if they use spirit mana. Not on Kaldwyn, at least. And even if it did, sapience — the kind of human-like intellect necessary to converse the way that Dawn here can — is not the form that any emergent intelligence would be likely to take. For this to happen…it would require outside intervention.”

“So, she was awakened deliberately.” I nodded. “We suspected that.”

“Except that’s not possible either!” Farren shouted. “Sorry. Just…no one should be able to do that! The sacred swords…”

“They shouldn’t be able to be modified outside of the forges in the elemental temples,” Reika contributed.

“Right, right. And the crystals in the temples have very specific things they’re allowed to do. Giving self-awareness to the sword…I don’t think they could do it, even if they wanted to.”

I frowned. “You sound like you have some experience with the matter.”

Farren adjusted her glasses again. “Of course. I’ve visited the temples extensively. When studying attunements, learning about their precursors was a natural part of the process.”

That wasn’t too surprising, given that the Spirit Gateway Crystal had directed me straight to Farren. They clearly had some kind of existing rapport. “If the crystals are out, who could have accomplished it? Selys?”

Farren snorted. “Sure, if she wanted to. But there’s no chance of that.”

“Why is that?” Reika asked.

“That’s private,” Nakht interjected, obviously to deliberately stop Farren from saying anything.

“Right. Private,” Farren repeated.

“The visages, then?”

Farren nodded slowly. “…I suppose that’s what it comes down to, isn’t it?” She shut her eyes, concentrating. “…I don’t get it, though. They don’t have the motive. None of them…” She let out a little gasp, her eyes flying open. “Oh, no.”

“That’s…a concerning reaction. Care to share?”

Farren drew in a deep breath. “This is…” She turned to Dawn. “What about the other swords?”

<We don’t know for sure, but we’ve seen evidence that at least one of my siblings is like me. But they…I think someone deliberately silenced them.>

Farren’s jaw tightened. “This is worse than I imagined.” She rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Twenty years…it makes sense.”

“What makes sense?” Reika asked.

Farren turned to Nakht. He shrugged at her. Then, she turned to Reika. “You’re the sword’s guardian, then?”

“I am,” she confirmed without hesitation.

“And you didn’t see this happen?” Farren asked.

“I was a little girl. My father, Akoji, was the guardian when she first woke up.”

“And you can confirm the timeline?” Farren asked.

“I mean, I didn’t exactly have a calendar, and I was a small child…but yeah, she’s just a little younger than I am.”

Farren cursed. “He made another move and I didn’t even notice.” Another series of curses. “No wonder he sent someone to participate in the tour—”

Nakht put a hand on her shoulder. She shut up rapidly.

I waved a hand at her. “Please, finish what you were saying. We’ve been fighting blind for far too long.”

“Apparently, you’re not the only one.” Farren grimaced. “Listen, there are things here that are…complicated. Machinations that if you get dragged into, well, they’re…”

“Let me stop you right there.” My hand went up in a “halt” gesture. “I am absolutely done with people giving me vague riddles and cryptic half-truths. We’re involved in this, Farren. There’s no preventing that at this stage. At a minimum, Dawn deserves to know what your suspicions are. She’s lived her entire life in the dark about her origins. She needs to know where she came from. And if you can help us get her a body, we’ll be significantly in your debt.”

There was a pause as Farren closed her eyes again, then shuddered. “…He’ll kill me.”

“Who will?” Reika asked. “If someone is threatening you…”

Farren laughed. “You can’t protect me. If he chose to end my life, it wouldn’t be a fight with sharp claws and flashing swords. It’d be instantaneous. It would happen in less than a breath.”

“Then…what can you tell us, without risking death?” I asked.

“I…don’t know.” Farren shivered. “I…want to help you, though.” She bit her lip. She looked at Nakht. He looked at her with concern, but all he could do is shrug his shoulders.

<…What about a body?>

Farren turned back down to Dawn, as if just remembering she was still there. “…Mm. Maybe. But that…that might be what he wants.”

“Respectfully, even if that plays into the agenda of some kind of powerful entity you can’t talk about, Dawn still deserves a body.” Reika’s tone was firm. I was…a little surprised, to be honest. I knew she was opposed to people modifying Dawn in any way that wasn’t “proper” based on her beliefs…but apparently Dawn’s comfort was more important than that.

Dawn noticed that, too. I could feel the warmth and gratitude that came when she heard Reika’s words.

Farren looked at Dawn directly. “…What sort of body do you want?”

<…I…hold on.>

There was a flash as an image played in my mind.

A young woman, her hair and eyes glimmering like the first rays of sunlight breaking above the horizon. Her other features were hard to perceive in that mere moment, but I knew her immediately.

Dawn. The human-like form that I’d seen in those few times where I’d delved deeper into the connections between our spirits.

Farren gasped. “This…that’s you?”

<It is. I don’t know why, but I…I can always picture myself.>

“…A golem would have been easier.” Farren paused. “Wait. That self-image of yours. Does she age?”

<Yeah, she’s always grown older, just like a human does. Why?>

“If you were an existing entity trapped inside the sword, simply missing her memories, your humanoid form would probably remain static. Your self-image growing older at a human-like rate indicates that your spirit is independent. It’s also an indication that you’re based on something mostly-human as a sort of…spiritual template.”

<So…I’m…mostly human, then?>

Farren shook her head. “That’s not quite right. I’m just saying that your spiritual framework is based on something similar to a human.”

<Does that mean I’ll grow old and die like a human?>

“No idea. Dragons and other near-immortal species still fall into the same general framework we’re discussing. I’d have to study you a lot more to get a better idea of your potential lifespan.”

<…Okay.>

“So…” Reika cut in again. “Body? Can you help?”

“Not here.” Farren shook her head. “I don’t have the resources. Even at the lab at Caelford, I’m not sure I could do better than a golem. And in honesty, I’m not sure I should. Doing any kind of modification to Dawnbringer on that scale absolutely would draw the kind of attention we don’t want.”

<I…please…I don’t want to beg, but I will if I…>

Farren looked momentarily stricken. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry…I…I understand what you’re going through better than you realize.”

Nakht gave Farren a warning look.

Farren sighed. “…I can’t help you directly the way that you want. But I won’t leave you with nothing, either.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“You see this?” Farren pointed at Dawnbringer’s pommel. The shape was a golden ring, like a stylized sun, but lacking the sunray-like protrusions at the hilt.

When I’d first studied the sword, I’d noticed the gap in the center of the pommel and wondered if something had been removed from it. Her crossguard was similar, after all, and it had a crystal in the center that the pommel seemed to lack. “Is she missing a piece?”

“Not exactly.” Farren nodded to me, seeming gratified that I’d noticed what she was talking about. “At least, not from any time period that I’m aware of. But that is a slot designed for a crystal.”

“There are stories about that.” Reika brightened. “Some say that Dawnbringer will only reach her full potential when she is united with the Empyrean Heart. Most of the legends say that it’s a crystal that was lost in the battle between the goddess and the tyrant. Do you know where it is?”

“No, I don’t know about the Empyrean Heart,” Farren replied. “I don’t even know if it’s real. But I do know that slot could be used for other crystals, as long as the mana type is compatible with Dawnbringer’s.”

Reika looked uncomfortable. “…But if she was built for the Empyrean Heart…”

“I don’t think she was built for one crystal in specific.” Farren pointed at the pommel. “See those tiny runes there? They’re designed to detect the nature of a crystal inserted into that slot and, if they sense a compatible type, to activate a connection. If she was built to only use one crystal, those functions wouldn’t be necessary.”

“…I suppose that makes sense.” Reika frowned, but said nothing further.

<I’m glad to know that I could get stronger with a crystal, but without a body…>

Farren smiled. “Don’t you see? If you find the right crystal, you won’t need to rely on a golem. We won’t need to make you something from flesh and blood, either. You’ll be able to make a body yourself.”

I heard a little gasp from Dawn. <Do…you think that’s possible?>

“It makes a degree of sense.” I nodded, following Farren’s logic. “Simulacrum spells, summoned monsters…they’re all basically creating temporary people. Flesh and blood. If you had the same types of mana, theoretically you could do something similar on your own.”

<But…that’d be more like a projection. Not a permanent body. It wouldn’t be me. Not exactly.>

Farren winced at that for some reason I couldn’t quite pick up. “It’s not so bad. And you’re not going to get much better, unless you had your consciousness permanently transferred out of the sword and into some kind of separate body.”

<That’s…fair, I suppose. Maybe if I manifested a physical body on my own, we could find a way to move my consciousness into it permanently later?>

“Sounds like a good plan to me.” I gave Dawn an encouraging nod, then turned back toward Farren. “Do you have any insight on how we should proceed from here?”

Farren nodded. “Dawnbringer already has spirit magic, which is one of the most important parts. From there, you’ll need to be able to handle the physical elements of forming a body. For that, I recommend density mana as a foundation. You’ll also need life mana if you want it to be flesh-and-blood rather than just a crystalline construct form. Making it as close to human as possible…well, that would require a lot of mana types. My suggestion is to start with a powerful density crystal, then work your way toward acquiring other improvements from there.”

“That makes sense. Where could we find a crystal like that?”

Farren seemed to consider that for a moment. “A few options. The spires are always options, but don’t tend to give out reliable rewards unless you reach the mid-point or higher. I’d advise against that, especially given what your intentions are. Instead, I’d recommend going to the elemental temples. Specifically, the Temple of Earth.”

Reika nodded fervently. “That’s the appropriate way to help Dawn. The forges are designed to help improve the sacred swords.”

“It’s more accurate to say that the sacred swords are designed to be changed at the forges,” Farren interjected. “The forges are much, much older.”

Reika wrinkled her nose in distaste, but conceded the point. “Fine. But…yeah, the temples are the traditional way to upgrade the swords. This sounds right. Maybe this is what the goddess planned all along.”

Farren gave Reika a sympathetic look. “…Let’s hope so.”

After that, Farren hesitated a moment, then said, “Dawnbringer, it has been a genuine pleasure to meet you.”

<Please, just call me Dawn. And…thanks. For everything. You don’t know how much this all means to me.>

“I think I have some idea.” Her expression softened. “We’re more alike than you think.” She shifted, offering Dawnbringer hilt-first to Nakht. “Farewell, Dawn. If you ever find what you’re looking for…visit me again.”

<I will. I promise.>

Farren nodded silently. Nakht took Dawnbringer, then carried the sword back to me. I accepted Dawn, then fastened her back onto my belt.

You okay? I asked.

<Yeah.> Then after a pause. <…For the first time in a long time, I think I really am.>

***

We quickly gave our thanks and goodbyes after that, then headed back home. Dawn’s mood was bright. Reika’s…concerned.

We stopped by the dance club again on the way out. A little dancing later, Reika was in somewhat better spirits, and we headed back to the Study of Iron to sleep.

It had, in spite of all the challenges, been a good day.

***

The next day was a simpler one, but still busy. We had one day off between rounds of the tournament, and while it would have been nice to use that to relax, we had too much to do.

After eating, we visited Farren again at ten bells, just as requested. She took some blood samples from Reika, then after a beat, she addressed me. “What about you?”

“…Are you offering me an attunement?”

Farren shook her head. “No. Not right now, at least. But if you’re willing to let me take samples, it might help me with research on how to make you one later.”

I gave her a questioning look. “Wouldn’t an ordinary attunement work on me?”

She snorted. “Please. Don’t try the human act on me. I don’t know what you are, but you’re definitely not an ordinary person. I don’t think you’re a dragon, either. If you eventually want an attunement, it’ll help me to start studying now.”

I tightened my jaw, thinking. It would be useful to get an attunement, but I didn’t trust her.

On the other hand…Dawn was like me. Not exactly, but…similar. And I already had a body.

Dawn had pointed out that studying my body was a logical course to try to help her…but up until then, I hadn’t really examined it as a possibility. Now, I was faced with a choice.

If Farren studied how my body worked, would she be able to figure out how to replicate it? Or, if Dawn eventually managed to make a body, would Farren have an easier time making her an attunement if Farren already had studied my own body?

Both seemed likely to me.

But was Farren likely to use the knowledge of how my body worked for her own purposes?

Absolutely.

Farren had already given us considerable help with her information on the crystals, but I couldn’t trust that she was doing anything purely for our benefit. She had her own goals, and I doubted I’d completely agree with them. I weighed those factors in my mind…and I made my choice.

I agreed to go through the process.

A few blood samples were the easy part. After that, she had us go to a local laboratory — not one all the way in Caelford, fortunately — to get various Diviners to perform spells to learn more about our essence and spirits. She assured me that the results would be kept strictly confidential.

After that, we headed home.

<…Thanks.>

For?

<For doing that. I know you did it for me.>

You’re welcome. You’re…important to me, you know?

<…I know.>

***

Later in the day, I had a few other tasks to take care of.

First, I carefully inspected the box the emperor had given me for any sort of mechanical or magical traps. I was no expert at it, but the only experts I knew were people like Ravenshade and Taer’vys. The first was still missing and the second was more likely to put in a new trap than tell me about an existing one.

Anyway, I’ll save you the suspense: it was an ordinary box.

Inside were six carefully-packaged vials, labeled clearly in the Valian tongue.

Enhancement Elixirs.

Emerald-level Enhancement Elixirs.

I was momentarily taken aback by the value of the gift. Enhancement Elixirs were ludicrously expensive in general, and Emerald-level ones…

Well, it was a personal gift from an emperor, so I supposed it made sense.

There was only one problem: I didn’t think I could use them. I didn’t have an attunement. I considered giving them to Reika, but we weren’t sure if they’d work for her artificial attunement, either, after she got one.

And, while I liked the idea of helping Reika with them, another idea came to mind. One that was a little longer-reaching, but important.

If Dawn ever got herself a human body like she wanted, she’d probably be fragile at first. Ordinary. If she wanted to survive against the types of enemies we were going up against, she was going to need power. Maybe she’d get that inherently from the sword that served as her current body, or maybe we could find other ways to strengthen her…but if she truly wanted to be human, an attunement would be the obvious route for her to gain magical power.

And enhancement elixirs would be an extremely valuable resource for getting her caught up.

So, with Lia’s help, I visited the bank and confirmed what I suspected — they had vaults for items that could be accessed from branches in several different locations, similar to what I’d seen in the royal vault. I could, for a fee, deposit something and then withdraw it at a different bank later.

I deposited the elixirs there, as well as some of my remaining cash. Then, I moved on to my next task: tracking down the Green Guardian for a talk.

He didn’t have an address listed, of course, and simply asking around didn’t produce any good leads on his location. I had another idea, though.

I strongly suspected that the pendant he’d given me was forged from the same type of crystal as his armor. Maybe it was something he’d enchanted himself. He probably was using it as a means to track and observe me, which was a little annoying, but also possibly useful.

In summary, I paid to get a Diviner to track him through the pendant, but it didn’t work. Either the necklace wasn’t actually connected to him or — more likely — the Green Guardian simply had a way of blocking detection magic. Given his identity as a masked hero of justice, it seemed like a pretty standard precaution to take.

When that didn’t work out, I decided not to waste the day on trying to pursue it further. I’d presumably have a chance to see him the following day at the arena, anyway, and hopefully he’d be more willing to talk.

Going to the Diviner wasn’t a complete waste: he was able to tell me that the crystal itself was enchanted with some kind of protective magic, but to defend the object, not the wearer. It also had some fragment of spirit magic, but he wasn’t able to identify the function. That was useful to know.

I spent most of the rest of the day training. In the evening, I tried to visit Taer’vys — both to ask after his health and to see if he’d been the one who had arranged for the Abandoned City to look like Velthryn. Predictably, he’d checked out of the arena medical facility and disappeared.

He probably wouldn’t have given me a straight answer, anyway.

Dawn and I went back to training after that. To celebrate progress on getting her a body, we tried having her float and spar with me on her own. She still wasn’t very maneuverable, but even with just a few hours of practice, she got notably better at making basic cuts and thrusts.

Reika got her vial from Farren late in the evening. She wouldn’t tell me if she was going to take it before her match, or what specific powers it held: she wanted it to be a surprise. Afterward, she went drinking with Alexander Theas, both to cheer him up and because apparently, she’d won something from him in a bet that she wanted to collect before her next match. That was apparently a surprise, too. I didn’t begrudge her those secrets — it made sense to keep some of her cards hidden. We knew that if we kept winning, we’d eventually have to face each other, and having some hidden items and skills made a degree of sense.

While she did that, I went hunting for Ravenshade, but only briefly. I couldn’t sense her sword anywhere, so that left me to just checking her known previous locations. That mostly meant rooftops and dark alleys — which probably said something about the sort of mess I was getting into by involving myself with her — and the Dastard’s Den. The people I asked there insisted they hadn’t seen her in a couple days. I didn’t think they were lying.

I considered using the dagger that had injured Ravenshade to try to track the person who’d hurt her — or Ravenshade herself, using the blood on the weapon. I decided against both. In the first case, I simply didn’t have enough time to deal with whoever the weapon led to, if it worked at all. In the latter case, I was pretty sure Ravenshade wouldn’t approve of me tracking her down in that fashion, and I didn’t want to abuse her trust.

With the day coming to an end, I went shopping to restock my healing potions, then I finally headed back to the Study of Iron to try to rest.

I didn’t sleep much. Through whatever strange sorting system the tournament organizers had chosen, I was slotted for the first match in the morning.

Ishyeal Dawnsglow.

Soulbrand.

Tomorrow, there would be a reckoning.

CHAPTER XXIX – VERMILLION SWORD

I cracked my neck and stepped into the arena. There was probably applause, both for myself and my opponent.

I didn’t notice.

I only had eyes for the man on the other side of the arena.

Ishyeal Dawnsglow strode forward without the slightest glance toward the crowd. His wide-brimmed hat couldn’t hide the fact that his typical knowing-smile was conspicuously absent.

Soulbrand was already drawn, the massive greatsword resting like a polearm with the flat against his right shoulder.

Dawnbringer remained sheathed at my side, but I could feel the two sacred swords calling to each other. Not in the literal sense, but rather that the spiritual bond between the blades felt almost magnetic while they were this close to each other. I could feel Dawn’s nervousness and excitement flowing into me, mingling with my own.

This wasn’t like our previous encounters with Ishyeal and Soulbrand. This wasn’t a casual brush against each other in the midst of a greater battlefield. There was no greater opponent for us to face together.

The world around us vanished into irrelevancy.

There were only weapons and wielders.

Our arena was a conventional one: a gigantic circle with dark lines to mark the out-of-bounds area. Any movement outside of that boundary was grounds for disqualification, regardless of altitude. That would limit my opponent’s mobility options, if only slightly.

The announcements happened. Titles were given and ignored.

Then we waited for the one and only word that mattered:

“Begin.”

And so, our dance began.

***

Ishyeal didn’t vanish immediately. Instead, he slowly lowered Soulbrand and pressed the greatsword’s burning tip into the ground. The crimson point melted through the stone effortlessly. “Selyrian.” He tilted his head downward toward me. It was easy to forget how tall he was when he wasn’t towering over me. Dawnsglow was one of the tallest people I’d ever met, which, combined with Soulbrand’s size, also meant he had a colossal reach advantage. “It’s about time we had a talk.”

I gave him a bemused look. “Really? Now you want to talk?”

A hint of his typical smile appeared at the corners of his lips. “Well, there’s something you should—”

I shot forward in the heartbeat before his flames burst from the ground beneath where I’d been standing, drawing Dawn and swinging at the same time.

My blade landed against his with an echoing crack that split the air and shook the entire arena. It was only a split-second of contact, but something had changed.

The sacred swords sang as they greeted each other in a cacophony of light and fire.

I thought I sensed something powerful, then, for just a moment. Something familiar, but new.

I didn’t have time to process it. The sudden burst of explosive power drove us apart, sending us both sliding half-way across the legal boundaries of the arena.

When the smoke cleared, the center of the arena was little more than a molten crater…but Ishyeal and I stood unharmed on opposite sides. My body gleamed with a protective aura of light, while Ishyeal’s was wreathed in brightly burning fire.

His eyes narrowed, the aura around his body fading as he flicked his sword upward.

Soulbrand’s first attack, the flames that had torn through the arena floor, hadn’t vanished when I’d avoided them. The torrent of liquid fire shot out of the smoke in the arena’s center and chased me like a living thing.

Stop.

My mental command reached the flames, but even with all the progress I’d made with flame shaping practice, it served to do little more than slow the torrent of fire.

Can’t rely on shaping, Soulbrand is still too powerful for me to wrestle with.

My right arm shot upward, Dawn’s edge sending a crescent of light into the flames and ripping them asunder.

Ishyeal appeared in front of me in the next instant, while my arm was still upraised and out of position to parry. Soulbrand swept horizontally toward my chest, the massive blade swung with enough force to cleave an ordinary person in twain with ease.

Now!

Dawn and I moved together.

Magnetic pull! <Magnetic pull!>

Soulbrand’s blade wrenched upward with the sudden force of our united command.

I expected Ishyeal to try to correct his swing. He didn’t.

Instead, he simply let the swords meet. The blades clashed, but without the same burst of tremendous power as the one that had heralded their first meeting. We’d both deliberately restrained our weapons’ devastating power, allowing them to meet in a conventional blade press.

With Ishyeal’s height and the angle of our weapons, he had a notable leverage advantage. He pushed downward, trying to drive the crossed weapons downward toward my neck.

In spite of his height, I’d been confident until that moment. There was virtually no one who could match me in a direct contest of strength against strength. Not the Green Guardian, not Taer’vys, not even Edria Song.

So, I was more than a little surprised when the force of his push drove me backward and downward, sending tremors through my arm and shoulder muscles as I strained to resist.

This, I considered as Dawn’s own blade neared my throat, was not part of the plan.

But then again, I’d always loved improvising.

Body of Stone.

The descent of the swords slowed, but didn’t stop.

Soulbrand’s blistering aura made the air around us sweltering. My Ring of Flame Twisting pushed back at the conflagration, but with minimal effect. The bracers on my wrists glowed with a forge’s heat as Soulbrand pushed closer to my body, threatening to ignite my clothes if it drew much closer.

But as Soulbrand pressed downward, it finally came to just the right angle for me to get a clear look at the blade. And with that, I’d met my first objective.

Polarity reverse.

In an instant, the blades flew apart, the sudden force of the magnetic shift sending Ishyeal’s swing wildly off-course. I took advantage immediately, sweeping Dawnbringer at his chest, but he stepped backward, just out of reach.

That was fine.

My sword arm froze with the blade pointed right at his center of mass, only inches from his body.

Luminous Arc.

I’d never seen someone dodge a light attack at that short of range.

…And I didn’t in that moment, either.

Unfortunately, I saw something significantly worse.

The brilliant beam of light that erupted from Dawn’s blade flashed outward, slammed straight into Ishyeal’s chest…

And reflected right back at me.

I couldn’t dodge at that range, either. I was so stunned that I couldn’t even react.

But Dawn was faster.

<Radiant Dawn!>

A flare of sun-bright radiance flashed around me, emulating my Ring of Spell Deflection and wrapping my entire body in an aura of light. The Luminous Arc rebounded again, not toward my opponent, but off at an angle that caused it to fly harmlessly into the barrier around the arena.

I thought I heard a crack somewhere above us where it impacted. I ignored it.

I didn’t have a chance to think about it. Ishyeal was already coming at me again, Soulbrand flashing downward in a rapid slice that trailed a colossal wave of fire.

I side-stepped, but Ishyeal pivoted mid-swing, sending the wave of flames in my direction. I severed the flames with a downward swing of my own, only to find that my opponent had vanished in the moment the flames had obscured my vision.

I spun around, launching a crescent of light out of instinct…but Ishyeal wasn’t there, either.

<Above!>

I found Ishyeal floating in the air above the stage, white wings carrying him far out of my reach. As I watched, a blistering wheel of fire manifested in the air behind him, and he traced a pattern of strange runes in the air with Soulbrand’s edge. Each motion of his sword left a crimson line that lingered in place, like he was cutting blistering wounds into the very fabric of the world.

I don’t know what that is, but I’m pretty sure we need to stop it.

I launched another crescent of light from Dawnbringer.

This time, he didn’t even respond. The radiant wave impacted his body without the slightest effect and flashed back toward me, just as Luminous Arc had. Fortunately, he was far enough away that I managed to side-step my own reflected attack without requiring Dawn’s help to stop it.

Ishyeal’s lips were curled upward. “You keep trying that. You keep failing. Do you want to know why?”

The question was incredibly obvious bait, but I was entirely too curious to avoid it.

His strength increase was surprising, but easy enough to justify. Any number of magical items, spells, or new attunements could improve someone’s strength. Maybe he’d simply been holding back.

But that reflective power…it was more than some simple magical item could manage. My own Ring of Spell Deflection was similar, but it probably wouldn’t have even managed to deflect the first Luminous Arc.

Maybe he simply had a higher-level version, but…no.

My instincts were telling me there was something more. Something was tugging at my senses, something that Dawn was feeling distantly, too.

Something familiar. Something like her.

And it wasn’t Soulbrand. I could feel the connection between those weapons, but also a fundamental difference in their powers.

Release Body of Stone.

I didn’t need it while Ishyeal was at a distance. And I had a feeling I was going to need every bit of strength I could muster for what was coming next.

“Go ahead, give your speech.” I took a wary step back while I watched him, lifting Dawn into a defensive stance.

A part of me knew the answer even before he gave it.

“It’s very simple, really.” His smile widened. “You’ll never be able to truly wield a sword that you didn’t earn.”

Dawnsglow rested his greatsword against his shoulder with one hand, then used the other to tug at a chain around his neck. His motion revealed what he’d tucked inside the top of his shirt:

A series of three spherical crystals, all attached to the same chain.

Three amulets. Ones that I’d never physically seen, but that were nevertheless all-too-familiar.

I heard a gasp from the weapon in my hand even as my fingers tightened around her grip.

“There’s a reason that I knew you were a thief the moment that I met you, Keras.” Ishyeal tucked the amulets back into his shirt, then used his free hand to tip his hat. “Allow me to reintroduce myself, and more properly this time. I’m Ishyeal Dawnsglow, Wielder of Soulbrand. And, of course,” he winked at me, “the one proven long ago worthy to wield Dawnbringer.”

The light from the all-bright sword in my hand flashed once in alarm…

…Then faded to the dullest that I’d ever seen her.

My jaw tightened as I turned my eyes to meet Ishyeal’s.

His newfound strength made sense. As Dawn and I had discussed, each amulet was tied to one of her virtues, and strength was the most straightforward of them.

Dawn’s power glancing off him was even easier to understand.

I’d been practicing with Diamantine’s amulet with the knowledge that the amulets had the ability to stop their own weapon’s powers. I just had never expected that the same trick might be used against me.

…And beyond that, there was also the chance that her bravery amulet was giving him spell-reflection powers in general. So, it was possible that my other types of magic wouldn’t work, either, depending on how exactly the amulet functioned.

Insight might have been the least dangerous or the most: we’d speculated that it might be tied to Golden Dawn, but that was hardly a certainty. Even if that amulet ended up being largely useless without the sword, though, simply fighting against an opponent with the amulets was a huge problem.

For all the danger that the amulets presented on a physical level, though, they offered a far greater potential for a different kind of harm.

Dawn? I drew in a breath. Dawn, are you okay?

<He’s…he’s…>

Dawnsglow didn’t give us time for an extended conversation. He made another flourish of Soulbrand’s blade, adding an additional line to the figure he was drawing in mid-air. “You seem to be at a loss for words. It’s understandable. You’ll be dealing with a loss in other respects in just a moment, too.”

I ignored him.

At that moment, he was absolutely irrelevant to me.

Dawn, talk to me. I’m right here with you.

<Keras…if he’s the one who earned the amulets, then…I need you to do something important for me.>

My heart froze with the kind of fear that Dawn’s power couldn’t chase away. It was not the fear of wounds, of death, of terrible enemies.

It was the fear of losing something…someone…I couldn’t bear to part with.

She couldn’t help me fight that fear, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t fight it on my own.

Dawn wasn’t just a sword. She was a person. She didn’t belong to me or anyone.

And so, I closed my eyes with resolve, and spoke with my heart and my mind.

Whatever you need, Dawn. Even if that means…

<Goddess above, Keras. You can be so dramatic. You’re embarrassing me.>

My eyes blinked open.

What?

<Keras, I’m going to say this as clearly as possible, because I don’t think you’ve taken it seriously enough.>

<Those are some real shiny amulets over there. I’d love to have them, if you’ve got the spare time. But right now, I don’t need them.>

<What I need is for you to square up and punch that man right in his beautiful, yet insufferably smug face.>

<Then, when we’re standing victorious over his broken body… Then, and only then, I want you to ask him how long. I want you ask him how long he waited, hoarding all three amulets, without ever coming to visit me.>

<I want you to ask him if he knows that every day he held them was one more day that I sat alone, trapped in a crystal tomb, my mind screaming for death or freedom. One more day that no one else would even try to seek me out, because he already had the amulets.>

<That, Keras, is what I need my wielder to do.>

I stared at her for a moment in stunned silence.

…You know what? I took a breath. I’d be happy to.

I turned back toward Ishyeal, shifting my stance. No more defense. No more reacting. No more fear.

I didn’t need any of that.

“You seem to have made your decision.” Soulbrand’s wielder looked down at me, slipped the amulets away, and then tipped his hat. “I hope you’ll understand when I claim my sword after your loss.”

My eyes narrowed. “She doesn’t belong to anyone.”

Dawn, Plan S.

<I hate that one, but yeah, fair.>

Ishyeal seemed to sense that something had changed. He made one final stroke to the figure he was carving in mid-air…just an instant before I threw Dawnbringer at it.

“Foolish.” He snapped his fingers.

My own fingers shot to my belt just before the explosion.

Spell Deflection.

The runic figure detonated in an explosive burst, just as we’d expected. I may have underestimated the scale.

Flames engulfed the entire arena in an instant. In the heartbeat that followed, there was no air to breathe, only smoke and fire.

The Ring of Flame Twisting barely had any impact on its own, but combined with the power from the Ring of Spell Deflection, it managed to keep me from instantly being consumed by the inferno.

In the following moments, my mind worked rapidly. I sent two surges of enhancement mana straight into the symbols on my belt.

Pale Crescent. Feather Light.

The weapons appeared in mid-air as my belt activated. My hands shot out and caught them.

I’d stored the Pale Crescent while it was already fully charged. With that stored power, I swept it through the air, clearing a section of persistent flames.

I swept Feather Light after it, clearing the smoke from the air in a small section around me.

The remainder of the arena remained a raging inferno. With the Pale Crescent in hand, the amulet and circlet flared with new life, redoubling the protection they granted me. I could tell that the blazing heat was already stretching the amulet’s protection, and it wouldn’t last forever, but for the moment I was safe from the flames.

I couldn’t see Ishyeal or Dawn within the blaze, but I didn’t have to. I could sense them both. The sacred swords called to my mind clearly. I knew Dawn had survived the flames unscathed, just as expected, but she’d been blasted out of position.

I knew Ishyeal could probably sense my own location. If he could manage this kind of power with one attack, I couldn’t let him make another. I had to move fast.

A series of swift cuts tore crescent sigils in the air. “High Tide.”

The crescents flashed toward Ishyeal’s position, carving a path. He swept his sword out disdainfully, cleaving through the crescents without the slightest difficulty.

Then, he vanished.

I spun, this time correctly guessing his movement and meeting Soulbrand’s descent in a cross-shaped parry with my two blades.

He forced me backward, straight toward the infernal blaze that still raged all around us. The defense provided by the Pale King’s amulet was holding, but I doubted that it could withstand more than a few moments inside the flames themselves, and my rings were drained nearly to powerlessness.

That was fine, though.

Plan S was a truly despicable plan, but it was an effective one.

Magnetic pull. Body of Iron.

Ishyeal’s sword stuck to mine. My strength flared, and for the first time, I managed to regain the strength advantage. I didn’t use it to push him back. Instead, I held steady and clicked my heels together.

Planelock.

Then Dawnbringer, flying with the power of her new attachment, shot straight at his back.

I saw the moment of surprise on Ishyeal’s face as he sensed the sacred sword moving toward him. In that instant, I concentrated on the ground, shaping the earth to cover his feet.

His sword was trapped. His legs were trapped. His only option was…

He vanished.

In the end, Ishyeal Dawnsglow, Wielder of Soulbrand, could not be beaten by a pair of boots.

He reappeared to my left, almost close enough to touch, and slammed Soulbrand’s pommel into my ear.

I staggered from the force of the blow, but I didn’t go down. I had Body of Iron on and he hadn’t had enough time to pull back his arm for a full swing.

I grunted and swung both weapons at him at once, only to find him gone. When I spun in a full circle, I met only air and fire. He was airborne again, shaking his head.

Dawn shot after him. He reached out with his free hand to try to grab her hilt, but she spun in mid-air, nearly cleaving through his fingers. He wrenched his hand back in surprise. “How—”

I jumped.

Ishyeal was a solid fifty feet off the ground. On my own, I couldn’t have managed that in a single standing leap.

With Body of Iron, I overshot him.

As Ishyeal turned upward and pulled Soulbrand back for a swing, I pointed at him with Feather Light and commanded it. “Fly.” The sword wasn’t strong enough to carry me in flight on its own, but it was still magnetically attracted to Soulbrand. Between the two forces, I shot downward toward him.

I prepared to strike him on the way down…but not fast enough.

“Enough of this.” Ishyeal shut his eyes, pulling Soulbrand back. “Vermillion Edge.”

Soulbrand’s blade flashed crimson, every rune on the surface flooded with power. Even still at a distance, I felt the overwhelming heat spilling out. Soulbrand’s power burned so hot that the fire surrounding us seemed to twist inward, surging toward the sword’s surface to join with the greater blaze.

In a moment, the omnipresent flames that had filled the arena had vanished, compressed into the surface of Soulbrand’s blade. Ishyeal raised his weapon and that power flared outward to form a pure-white sphere of unrelenting heat of such intensity that the air behind me seemed to freeze solid in contrast.

I couldn’t stop an attack of that magnitude. I’d known it the first time he’d planned to use it against me in the Battle Royale, and now, I was in a worse position than before. I was in mid-air. I couldn’t dodge. My rings were exhausted.

If he hit me directly, I wasn’t sure I’d even survive it.

When his swing came, it was so fast that I barely managed to raise the Pale Crescent in a defensive position. That wasn’t an effort to block the attack, though.

It was merely an effort to protect myself from the backlash when Dawn flew straight into the path of that sphere of conflagration, her own blade flashing with the full power of her inner light.

<Radiant Dawn!>

Soulbrand’s most powerful attack crashed straight into Dawn’s blade.

Dawn’s light couldn’t hurt Ishyeal directly as long as he wore her amulets, but attacking had never been her greatest strength.

When Soulbrand’s power met Dawn’s blade, she didn’t have to be stronger than Soulbrand. She wasn’t trying to cancel it out.

All she had to do is nudge it in the right direction.

And so, the strongest attack that Ishyeal Dawnsglow could muster hit him right in the face.

For an instant, the whole world went crimson.

I felt, rather than saw, my amulet’s power strain and fail as it protected me from the brunt of the blast.

Then, in the next moment, I was falling…and also on fire.

I landed in agony, my clothes fully ablaze in spite of their own magical protection. But that wasn’t even close to the worst part.

Feather Light, an enchanted weapon of solid metal, was half-melted in my hand. My glove had burned to ash, leaving the superheated metal in direct contact with my skin.

Body of Iron was a great defensive technique, but it didn’t do a lot for holding onto a forge-hot weapon or being lit on fire.

In that moment, my instincts were stronger than conscious thought, and I didn’t have Dawn to stop me.

Go. Away.

A flash of silver burst from my skin, like a million blades of infinite force.

Then, it was over. My aura had utterly shredded flames and slag alike. Feather Light was gone, absolutely obliterated in my moment of agony.

I shuddered, pushed myself to my feet, and reached out my now-empty off-hand.

Dawn flew straight into my grip. The intense relief when I caught her overwhelmed the pain of trying to hold her with my blistered grip.

Across the arena, I caught sight of my opponent.

Ishyeal Dawnsglow pushed himself to his own feet, using his massive sword as a crutch. Soulbrand’s blade no longer melted straight though the ground. The weapon’s blade was undamaged, but dim. His blue shirt was filled with burn holes that exposed patches of blistered and blackened skin. His white wings had vanished, leaving him looking different.

Mortal.

Thanks for the save, Dawn.

<…You…got…it…partner…>

Are you okay?

<Just…tired.>

Do I need to switch weapons?

I glanced at the Pale Crescent.

It wasn’t molten, at least. It did, however, have several holes in the blade…and it had shrunk down to its smallest size.

I didn’t even know that could happen if I didn’t discharge the sword’s power. It must have lost some of the mana it contained when I’d used it to try to block the backlash from Ishyeal’s technique.

The Sae’kes was still at my side. There was a part of me that itched to draw it. To use it. To cut straight through Soulbrand and Ishyeal and—

<No. Keras, stop. You can’t.>

I froze.

Had…I really been considering that? I…this is still a tournament match, isn’t it?

It was only at that point that I saw the new holes in my scabbard. I’d torn it open again. Not quite as badly as when I’d used Body of Annihilation, but any damage at all was a concern.

<Don’t use that sword. It’s…fine. We’ll…need to see this through…together.>

I nodded to Dawn, taking a deep breath to center myself.

Together.

…Do you still want to finish Plan S?

<Yeah. This might be our only chance.>

I nodded.

That particular plan would have been easier with multiple weapons…but I couldn’t wield two swords right then. Even just trying to hold Dawn in my blistered left hand was absolutely agonizing. If I tried to swing a sword with that hand it might have hurt me more than my opponent.

I took a deep breath, then pressed the Pale Crescent against my belt and concentrated until it vanished. Then, I passed Dawn into my good hand.

Then, slowly, I trudged across the arena.

Release Body of Iron.

The technique had probably saved me from flying out of the arena more than once, but I didn’t have enough metal essence to maintain it.

As I walked, I reached for the pouch at my side, only to find that it wasn’t there. Either it had been burned to cinders by Ishyeal’s attack, or I’d obliterated it myself with my burst of instinctive cutting power, or it had simply fallen off my belt. I scanned the area for it briefly, but I didn’t find it, and I didn’t have time for a more careful search.

No healing potions, then.

I pressed my injured hand against my tunic, which mercifully was still mostly intact. A piece of the tunic broke off against the burn, sealing in place. It wouldn’t be enough to give me any reasonable amount of use of the hand, but the regeneration power helped lessen the pain. I couldn’t afford the distraction of that level of agony.

Not when I still had a smug face to punch.

Ishyeal met me half-way across the arena. Not teleporting. Not flying. He walked.

As we stopped a sword-length apart, we looked each other over.

Most of his body was in worse shape than mine. Taking that direct hit from his own attack had burned him severely, even in spite of the fact that, in the absence of the majority of his dearly departed shirt, I could see that he had several amulets around his neck that clearly matched the symbol of Soulbrand that blazed on the skin over his heart.

He’d certainly been protected by those amulets. That had helped him survive.

But Soulbrand’s flames would not be so easily denied. And wearing so many amulets close together…they probably were interfering with each other, too.

In spite of the general severity of his injuries being significant, he still had advantages. The black gloves on his hands were undamaged, likely meaning he still had full use of both hands.

His hat was still fully intact, too. I didn’t know if that had any function or not, but it was sort of suspicious.

“So,” Ishyeal leaned heavily on his sword, smiling at me through fire-cracked lips, “You good with surrendering now?”

I shook my head. “No. You?”

“Nah.” He straightened himself up. “Going to say, it’s been a better fight than I expected, though.”

“Thanks. Agreed.”

He sighed. “Okay. Ready for round two?”

“I mean, I’d better be. You’re already doing that thing where you send fire into the ground.”

He nodded agreeably. “Yeah, fair.”

Then I jumped at him.

He vanished.

…Then the fire emerged from the ground right below where he’d been standing.

I cursed as the flames shot upward right in the path of my jump. He’d known that I’d recognized the pattern of his move, anticipated that, and changed it to exactly where I’d be moving.

It wasn’t even a strong attack, by the standards of what we’d been dealing with. Early on, I would have handled it with a wave of a hand.

But I was fighting on little more than good wishes and determination. That simple flame nearly ended me where his best strike had failed.

In the end, I wasn’t a thief like he claimed. But I was pretty good at stealing techniques.

Aura of Fire.

I couldn’t mimic Antonia’s signature fire shroud perfectly, but I didn’t need to. I only needed to wrap myself in enough fire to burst through Ishyeal’s attack, my flames deflecting his, and land to swing Dawn in the direction where he’d appeared.

Soulbrand flashed down to deflect the crescent of light that I’d sent toward him, dispersing it with ease.

I slammed the ground with a foot, causing the ground beneath him to liquefy. When I rushed forward, he vanished.

I spun around and punched him straight in the jaw. There was a satisfying crack as my fist smashed into his face, sending him flying backward.

<Yeah! Now, hit him with all those questions I wanted you to ask!>

…Later, Dawn.

Ishyeal slid to a halt, glowering at me as he wiped the blood from his lip with his free hand. “Not bad, but that’s the last time you’re going to catch me.”

We were only a few strides apart. In spite of Ishyeal’s bluster, I could tell from his expression that he was fatigued to the breaking point.

Truthfully, so was I.

My fire aura sputtered, exhausted after protecting me through that single attack. It couldn’t manage any more.

So, understandably, I was a bit concerned when Ishyeal’s bloodied lips moved with the strain of absolute exhaustion. “Vermil—”

Body of Dawn.

I closed that distance before the next fragment of a letter escaped his mouth, swinging Dawn with every bit of speed I could muster.

He blocked.

I didn’t even understand it at first. I couldn’t comprehend how he’d managed it until I saw one of the amulets around his neck shining with brilliant morning light.

The third of Dawn’s amulets. It was linked to her. Linked to me.

Dawn was a mirror, reflecting magic with the brightness of her blade.

…And with a hint of the selfsame light, her amulet had copied my technique.

For a moment, we froze in absolute silence as the world around us stood frozen.

Then, in the span of a heartbeat, we each attacked and defended a hundred times.

Our blades cut and flashed, tearing shallow wounds that might have burned with agony if our bodies could process pain as quickly as we moved.

My power sputtered. Dawn had no mana left to offer, having expended it all in her final reflection of Soulbrand’s attack.

In an instant, I knew my technique would fail, Ishyeal’s attacks would overtake mine, and it would all be over.

It’s something of a cliché to say that I had to gamble everything on one last attack. In truth, that’s pretty much always a bad idea.

But when I swung straight at the gleaming chain around Ishyeal’s neck, I’ll tell you straight:

I was gambling everything on one last attack.

Dawn flashed at his necklace with every bit of extra speed and power that I could muster…

Soulbrand flew up in the way to knock my sword out of the way.

My hand shifted. My mind shifted.

Now. It needs to be you.

Destructive Magnetism!

My essence flared. And in that moment, I struck.

I’d never been aiming for the amulet.

I’d aimed for the last rune on Soulbrand. The one that sealed a soul in silence.

And just as I struck, Dawn called upon the power she’d been connected with since we’d first formed our bond.

That terrifying power that slumbered in the other sword at my side.

<Spell Breaker.>

The technique worked perfectly. It explosively detonated the mana inside anything it touched, even something as potent as a rune on Soulbrand’s surface.

It would have been a perfect plan if I hadn’t missed.

CHAPTER XXX – BROKEN BLADE

With Body of Dawn active, I was fast enough to process everything that happened next. I was not, however, fast enough to stop it.

Dawnbringer impacted Soulbrand’s blade as planned, but in the wrong location. Annihilating power flooded into the runes that Dawn struck.

If Dawn and I had trained the technique together, perhaps she could have stopped it. If we’d practiced, she could have used one of the variant techniques that were dominion-specific, rather than a rudimentary attack that detonated anything it touched.

But I’d trained alone. And so, when I failed, we failed together.

I didn’t hear the runes crack. The detonation must have been near the speed of natural lightning. Even with my heightened speed, I couldn’t properly react to it. I tried to shape the resulting explosion, to contain it. I don’t know if I had any effect at all. I could only hope that my Destructive Magnetism would constrain the energy in enough to prevent a catastrophe.

The world went white. The combustion didn’t hurt me, but the impact with the arena’s outer wall did. I tumbled to the ground, my fingers gripped deathly tight around Dawn’s hilt, some instinct telling me that letting go of her for an instant would have meant her end.

Then it was over.

I was lying face-upward on half-melted stone. My still-accelerated mind reached out immediately toward what was most important.

Dawn?

<I…I’m…okay.>

I immediately extended my senses toward her to check the veracity of her claim. Her blade was unbroken, her runes unharmed, her spirit unscratched. Perhaps carrying a fraction of my own power had shielded her from the consequences of the blast, just as I was personally unharmed by it. Maybe my Destructive Magnetism had simply pulled enough of the power into my own body to save her. Most likely, it was some combination of the two.

But while we remained unharmed, the same could not be said for the arena.

The entire floor had been obliterated, leaving nothing but a crater of smooth stone beneath us. I’d impacted the rune-etched physical wall on the edge of the ring, then fallen at the very edge of the arena’s boundary. Absently, I processed that if the floor still existed, I would have been out-of-bounds.

It was little consolation that my opponent was on the opposite side of the ring in a similar position. I saw a cracked and flickering barrier around his body, but it hadn’t been enough to protect him completely. His entire outfit was blasted and scorched. I could see severe burns on the exposed patches of his skin. He wasn’t moving. At a distance, I couldn’t even tell if he was alive.

At first, I thought that the arena barrier had held, preventing the audience from being harmed.

It was only as my gaze turned upward that I realized that the cracked and flickering barrier around the ring was green, rather than the translucent blue field that was designed to shield the audience.

The Green Guardian stood at the edge of his private box, hands outstretched and visibly trembling. I didn’t know how he could have possibly reacted quickly enough, but in that moment, Edria’s masked hero earned his name.

…And even with his intervention, it had nearly been a disaster.

Dawn had only used a sliver of mana on that attack. If she’d used more, or if I’d attempted the same thing with the Dominion Breaker itself…there wouldn’t have been an arena. There wouldn’t have even been an Arena Island.

There might not have been a Kaldwyn.

While the audience might have survived, our attack was not without consequences.

I barely processed the arena announcer speaking, telling everyone to remain in their seats while the judges assessed the winner of the match. At that moment, a tournament victory was the furthest thing from my mind.

Soulbrand rested in the center of the crater, long cracks visible in the sword’s crimson blade. The once-bright runes on the bottom half of the sword were shattered and inert. Those few runes that remained lit were visibly sputtering, like the last light of a dying candle.

The sword’s wielder remained still on the distant ground, but Soulbrand was not alone.

Only a few feet from the sword, a blazing figure slowly descended from the air, a sparking sirocco swirling around her. As I watched, the torrent of air and flames coalesced, forming a rudimentary dress around her body. Smoke and embers trailed behind her as she drifted to the arena floor, giving the momentary impression of wings protruding from her back.

Her feet settled on the ground, and at the same time, an expression of confusion and alarm flashed across her face. It was only at that moment that I realized her body was not composed purely of flame. Though her hair and eyes burned with a bonfire’s brightness, her form was flesh and blood.

My heart froze when I processed what I was seeing. Dawn, too, saw through my eyes. The sense of the presence of a sacred sword reinforced the sight, burning the truth into our minds.

<She’s…>

Soulbrand.

With a shudder, I dismissed Body of Dawn, feeling my senses return to sluggish normalcy. Then, I pushed myself slowly to my feet.

While I stood, the manifestation of Soulbrand took a tentative step forward. She stumbled immediately, as if that step was the first that she had ever taken. She wobbled, but caught herself, a determined look crossing her features as she moved.

Not toward me. Not toward Ishyeal.

Toward her sword.

<She’s…she’s…>

Dawn’s voice broke as a dozen emotions flooded through her. She needed comfort, I knew, but we needed answers more.

Slowly, I lowered Dawn and began to walk down the crater.

On the opposite side of the ring, Ishyeal stirred. Alive, then. That was good.

I walked faster.

If Ishyeal was conscious, then my time was running out.

Soulbrand knelt by the side of her fallen blade. Gingerly, she reached down and brushed her fingers across the scorched and cracked surface. Her eyes clamped shut and she let out a ragged breath, her fingers danced along the edge before settling upon the sword’s grip.

Then, awkwardly, she lifted the broken weapon from the ground.

As I continued to approach, she finally seemed to notice me. As her eyes settled on Dawn and my approach, they momentarily widened. I thought I caught the sight of tiny sparks flickering in her irises.

Distantly, I realized what the consequences would be if people realized what was happening when I spoke to her.

Mask.

Concealment magic washed over me, hopefully blocking the crystals that were used to view the arena. People in the crowd would likely be able to physically see us, but it was unlikely they could hear our words or read our lips at such a great distance.

I raised a hand in a gesture of peace, hoping that the manifestation of Soulbrand would recognize it. “I mean you no harm.”

“No…harm?” Her mouth worked without familiarity, but I could sense the twinge of sadness in her features as she lifted the broken weapon for me to inspect.

“I…was just trying to free you. I’m…so sorry. I didn’t mean to…” I winced. “You were trapped in there, weren’t you?”

She took a step back in apparent alarm. “Trapped. Trapped.” Somehow, I felt a surge of panic from her, almost like the bursts of emotion I could feel from Dawn.

“Easy, I’m not going to put you back in there. I…we wanted to get you out. That was our goal.”

Her eyes shifted from mine to the sword still clutched in my hand. “Get…out?” Then she gasped and turned upward, looking at me directly again with a fevered expression. “Trapped!”

Is…she asking if Dawn is trapped, too?

“If you’re talking about Dawnbringer…believe me, we’re working on it.” Dawn remained strangely silent, but I could feel her own panic echoing that of Soulbrand’s avatar. “What happened to you? Who were you before you were trapped in there?”

Her gaze shifted toward the ground, then she gasped and shuddered, staggering forward a step. “Trapped. Ak…ari…”

“Akari? Is that your name?” I stepped forward as she stumbled, her eyes fluttering and her knees buckling. I didn’t catch her.

Her wielder did.

Ishyeal Dawnsglow was beaten and bloodied when he appeared behind her, catching her as she tumbled backward. He swept her into his arms, sword and all, as she seemingly lost consciousness.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” Ishyeal hissed.

“I’m getting one. We should talk as soon as—”

“You’ve said more than enough.” Soulbrand’s wielder glared at me and vanished from the arena, taking both the mysterious woman and her sword along with him.

I stared after him for a moment, simmering with anger.

No. My jaw tightened. Not this time.

Sense Sacred Sword.

I could still sense Soulbrand, the sword easier to discern now by virtue of feeling like two separate pieces in the same location. He hadn’t gotten far.

I was moving in an instant, rushing up the side of the crater toward the arena’s gates. I nearly slammed right into someone who appeared in front of the gate.

“Stop.”

Physical force accompanied that single word, a crushing pressure that I recognized as Diamantine’s power. If it was designed to force me to kneel, it failed. Weakened as I was, I withstood the pressure, but I did stop running before I crashed into the owner of the voice.

Emperor Edria Fang had appeared right in front of me, resplendent in his full armor. His arms were folded across his chest.

I didn’t bow. I didn’t even nod. I simply said, “Yes?” and lowered Dawnbringer to my side.

“Do not pursue your opponent. The match is over. Any further violence would be a severe violation of tournament rules.”

I glowered at the emperor. “I’m not going to hurt him. I have questions.”

“I’m certain you do.” The emperor’s eyes narrowed. “I, too, have questions. And you will both answer them to my satisfaction.”

“I’d be happy to ask you some as well.”

He tilted his head downward. I could feel the weight of his gaze pressing on me with as much force as his words. “You forget your place, Wielder of Dawnbringer. I have been patient with you, but my patience has limits. You would be wise not to find them.”

A part of me burned to challenge him. To show him that he couldn’t dismiss me like one of his own subjects. That I couldn’t be intimidated by his parlor tricks with Diamantine’s pressure or vaguely-worded threats.

But as my grip tightened around Dawnbringer’s hilt, she finally found her voice again. <Keras…you can’t. Not now.>

I let my fingers loosen, exhaling a breath, then slowly nodded to the emperor. “Forgive me. My blood is still in the battle.”

The emperor’s eyes met mine, then slowly, he nodded. “You have a warrior’s heart. There is honor in that, but you must learn to tame it in the presence of your betters.”

My jaw tightened. Rather than responding to that, which would have dragged me back toward an ill-advised fight, I shifted to a more neutral approach. “What would you have me do?”

“Dismiss whatever effect is hiding the arena. Then, I will address the audience.”

“Fine.” I closed my eyes for an instant. Release Mask.

The emperor seemed to notice the change immediately. He put a hand on my shoulder, then spoke, but with a message clearly not intended for me.

“Well-fought, Wielder of Dawnbringer. Your clash with the Wielder of Soulbrand was the greatest display of power we have seen in many years.”

“Thank you, Emperor Fang.” I nodded with false graciousness.

“The clash between your blades hurled both Ishyeal Dawnsglow and yourself out of the bounds of the arena. Our honored judges will review the event and determine the winner. Please remain within the arena grounds until a conclusion is reached. We may require you to fight in a rematch if the fight is determined to be a draw. Do you understand?”

I met his gaze and gave a sharp response. “I understand.”

“Good.” Emperor Edria Fang’s grip tightened on my shoulder. “No one would want you to lose the tournament on a technicality.”

Finally, he released me, then turned away to face the audience. “People of Edria and honored guests, let us have a round of applause for the Wielders of Dawnbringer and Soulbrand!”

The gates opened wide.

With the battle over, it was easier to find the blasted and torn scraps of my bag. The coins I’d kept in there had been melted to slag. My Escape Bell had been obliterated. Most of the healing potions had been destroyed, but two of them had remained intact. I spent a few more moments searching for any other items that had survived.

The pendant the green guardian had given me was lying nearby, seemingly undamaged. The Mask of Kishor, too, was unscratched. I tucked those items in my belt, along with the most important thing that had been inside — a shard of crystal that had once been embedded inside Ari.

I’d been so obsessed with following Ishyeal that I’d almost left it on the arena floor.

I took the items, then walked out of the arena with my head lowered, my failures echoed by the sound of thunderous applause.

***

Reika was waiting in my box when I returned. She threw her arms around me as soon as I opened the door. I sunk into her grip, pulling her in close.

“Are…you and Dawn okay?”

I exhaled heavily. “We’re…fine. Physically, at least. I mean, I’m a little beaten up and I need a new bag, but…”

“We can get Fai to handle your wounds. I’ll get him in a minute, and I got one of those fancy dimensional bags. I don’t need my non-magical one. Here.” She handed me one of her belt pouches. Gratefully, I fastened it onto my own belt, tucking Ari’s crystal and the remaining two healing potions inside. “More importantly, though, that explosion…Soulbrand…”

<She’s…she’s a person. She…has a body, Rei.>

Reika winced. “I…I saw. I don’t think the audience as a whole understood what happened there, but…I understood the moment I saw her. Then the crystal went black. That was you, Keras, wasn’t it?”

I nodded.

I spent the next few minutes filling her in on what we’d seen and what had happened from my perspective. She pressed a glass of water into my hands, which I drank greedily.

“Where do you think Ishyeal took her?” Reika asked.

I shook my head, extending my senses. The sword was further away now, but still on the Arena Island. “I don’t know. And the emperor doesn’t want me following him. I…get the impression he knew something about what happened.”

<If Soulbrand has a body…what about Diamantine? And…what about me?>

I shook my head. “I don’t know, Dawn. You don’t have those same sealing and silencing runes…but I don’t know what all the runes we broke were. Maybe there’s something in the original rune structure for every sacred sword that contains a person inside the weapon, like how Soulblade weapons work.”

“But…” Reika frowned. “That doesn’t make sense. Dawn wasn’t always self-aware. Wouldn’t it have to be a recent modification?”

I shrugged. “Maybe she has new runes that are simply concealed. I’ve seen people hide runes inside an object before, like with the Heartlance. It’s also possible that she had some kind of latent function that was just awakened somehow.”

“But…if nothing else…those new runes showed someone was trying to keep Soulbrand from talking, right? They deliberately silenced her.”

I nodded. “It seems so.”

“And if the emperor knows something…” Reika gasped. “Doesn’t that make him our top suspect?”

I shook my head. “I don’t think so. If he had access to Soulbrand for a long enough period to silence the sword’s voice, I suspect he would have just kept it. Or, uh, her, I suppose. The sacred swords have such cultural significance that owning two would be a huge deal. So, I don’t think the emperor is the culprit. But I do think he knows something about it.”

“Hold that thought. We should talk about this, but…probably not when we’re in the arena. There’s a good chance we’re under observation.”

I winced. “You’re right. I should have…”

“It’s fine.” Reika put a comforting hand on my arm. “You’re stressed and injured. And speaking of the latter, you need healing. Let me go get Fai, okay?”

I grudgingly nodded. I still wanted to pursue Ishyeal…but in my current condition, and with the emperor’s ultimatum, it seemed like a bad idea.

“Okay. I’ll stay here…for now.”

***

Reika went and found Fai, apparently deciding on the way to bring Grandmother Iron and Walter along as well. My private box was large enough to hold over a dozen people, so it wasn’t cramped, but there was a problem.

“You will stay right here until the match is called in your favor,” Iron instructed.

I groaned in annoyance, then winced as Fai began to spread some kind of gel across one of my burns. Life magic did work on healing burns, but it seemed slower than treating cuts and bruises, and the gel helped to soothe my lingering pain during the recovery process.

I wasn’t in terrible shape, all things considered. Fai’s magic didn’t heal my injuries completely, but it was remarkably fast compared to my old standard of healing from Mythralis. I still hadn’t fully healed from my serious wound in the fifth round, but it was no longer life-threatening.

I was, however, absolutely exhausted. I’d used a substantial amount of magic in the fight as a whole, but most importantly, Dawn and I had both burned through a tremendous amount of mana using Body of Dawn.

And it was a total waste. His amulet mirrored my advantage.

<Don’t blame yourself for that. We knew amulets could use similar abilities to mine, but even I didn’t realize that it would be able to copy your spell on someone other than the wielder.>

It makes sense. I should have considered that application.

<Well, now we know. If you have to have a rematch, the amulet only seemed to copy spells that use my magic. It probably only has the magic types that I do. Your Body of Iron worked fine. So, we can plan around that.>

I nodded. I was too tired for heavy planning for the next fight, but I kept talking to her about it a bit anyway. I could sense that she was doing it to deliberately distract herself. She wanted to run after Ishyeal as much as I did. No, that’s not quite right.

She wanted to run after Akari, if that was her name. Soulbrand’s power given physical form…or something else that had been bound to the weapon.

If Akari was Soulbrand’s spirit, then she looked like everything Dawn had ever wanted to be. A humanoid, flesh-and-blood body, or at least something that resembled one.

…That, of course, left me with important questions, too.

If that was Soulbrand in human form…is she like me?

Was she born with that body? If so, when?

And if she was sealed inside the sword and silenced…

Could the same be done to me?

We found no immediate answers. Dawn and I periodically reached out with our senses to find Soulbrand’s location. Ishyeal seemingly continued moving around the island, rather than settling in one place. Perhaps someone was pursuing Ishyeal and Soulbrand, but I couldn’t tell: none of the other sacred swords that I could sense were moving after him. So, if someone was chasing him, it wasn’t Edria Song, at least.

…Unless, of course, another wielder had concealment magic. I tried not to think about that. Edria Song’s box was nearby and I could sense Diamantine’s presence, or what felt like it.

Hopefully Soulbrand and her wielder could handle whatever was chasing them. I considered asking Reika to chase them down, but it seemed like a bad idea: they had no reason to think of her as an ally.

Nearly an hour passed. It wasn’t enough time for me to completely recover, but some food and water helped me feel a little more normal, at least. I spent some of that time repairing the damage to the Pale Crescent as much as I could by reshaping the metal, then let it recharge to its full power before storing it back inside my belt. I’d have to get it fixed properly later, but I didn’t have time to do it right away.

Then, finally, the announcer greeted the audience.

It was time for the next match, and it wasn’t the one I expected.

***

“People of Edria, honored guests. Yesterday, two of our combatants were unable to fight at the scheduled time. I am pleased to announce that they are here today, and in just a few moments, their match will begin.”

My eyebrows shot up. Ravenshade is here?

I still couldn’t sense her. Or, more accurately, I couldn’t sense Twilight’s Edge. That wasn’t a huge surprise, of course, given Ravenshade’s skillset and the sword being a shadow magic weapon. It would have been stranger if she didn’t have some way to hide it.

Still, something about the situation set me on edge.

I turned my eyes toward the crystal that displayed the stadium.

The arena was pitch black. If I was down there, I would have worried about monsters in the dark trying to eat me.

I would have punched them out, of course. But it would have been on my mind.

<Wouldn’t be that dark if I was there.>

Dawn was right: I doubted that whatever shadow magic was concealing the stage would have the potency necessary to negate Dawn’s light. Having a bright light in that environment, of course, would make me a gigantic target.

<Aren’t you always?>

Yep. No argument there. It’s more fun that way.

Our banter felt more hollow than usual, like we were simply going through the motions of normalcy. Soulbrand was still weighing heavily on our minds.

Fortunately, the announcer continued to speak, drawing our attention away from further self-recrimination and idle speculation.

“Our combatants today have chosen an unusual arena: The Land of Light and Dark. The match will begin with the entire stage concealed in shadow. These shadows suppress magical power, as well as most forms of magical detection. Periodically, areas of light will appear.”

To demonstrate, a glowing region appeared on the stage. “These areas of light enhance magical power within, rather than suppressing it. They are, however, visible both for the audience and our combatants within the arena. Thus, traversing the light areas brings great power, but also greater risks.”

The announcer paused as the light vanished. “Both the dark and light areas contain areas of cover, as well as traps on the stage that can be triggered by stepping upon them. These traps come in a wide variety, including snares, fire traps, and teleportation traps.”

I was already picturing my own strategy for the stage, which largely involved charging straight across it with a glowing sword.

Other people probably had different plans, though, and I was looking forward to seeing them.

A burst of white light illuminated the form of the first contestant. She was kneeling in long blue robes, as if in prayer. A long staff rested on the ground in front of her, topped with five metal rings of different colors. “Our first combatant is Haruka Saito, champion of the Dalenos Six and master of the Hierophant attunement! With mere words alone, she can stop arrows, shatter boulders, and even disrupt magic itself!”

On the opposite side of the stage there was another burst of light…revealing absolutely no one.

There was a moment of stunned silence from the announcer, then she appeared in a burst of black feathers.

A woman in tall black boots, wearing thick leather armor and a bandolier of knives. She wore a jian on each side — one with a white hilt on her left side and a black-hilted one on her right. She had two long daggers on her belt next to the swords, the type designed for close-range fighting rather than throwing. On her face was a mask of raven’s feathers.

She was standing a little awkwardly, off-balance, with her left hand subtly pressed against her stomach.

Still injured, then. Dangerous to fight that way, but I suppose it’s only been a couple days. They probably wouldn’t delay the match any longer.

…I’d describe her other features, but strange magic prevented me from focusing too heavily on her appearance. It was a type of spell that was all-too-familiar: after all, it was nearly identical to the function of my own mask.

I frowned.

I didn’t remember it affecting me quite so much before.

The black-hilted jian looked like it could have been Twilight’s Edge, but I sensed nothing from it, even when I focused on it directly.

Could just be that she’s using stronger detection-blocking magic than usual, but…could it be a decoy sword? Maybe she didn’t want to bring Twilight’s Edge into the arena.

<Could be both.>

Sure. But I’m not sure she’s the type to trust anyone else with her sword.

<She trusted you.>

For five minutes. While she was watching.

<Maybe she just stowed the sword somewhere?>

We could go look…

<Keras, stop looking for excuses to wander off. We both know you’d end up going after Ishyeal and whoever that hot girl was.>

Hot girl?

<Literally hot, Keras. She was wearing fire.>

Ugh.

<And I saw the way you looked at her…>

Oh, don’t start.

<Fine, fine. But no sneaking off! We need you to win this tournament, okay?>

…Okay. You’re right.

<Say that one more time for posterity’s sake.>

No. But I do want to go after Ishyeal as soon as we’re clear to.

<Same. That said, we’re not likely to get very far. They can — and probably will — teleport the moment we find them. Your boots won’t stop them. It’ll be easier to approach them once they calm down.>

If they calm down.

<True. They’re probably angry…and with good reason. We…made a pretty big mistake there.>

I made a mistake. It’s not your fault.

<No, we share that responsibility. We’re partners, and I used the technique. And I could have vetoed the plan at any time. But enough about that. I shouldn’t keep fixating on Soulbrand over everything else. If Diamantine is anything like Soulbrand, they might need our help, too.>

I’m…not sure our “help” is such a good idea at this point.

<Making a mistake doesn’t mean our idea was completely invalid, Keras. She’s free now. I don’t know exactly what that means, but…if what she was going through was anything like what I dealt with inside that crystal…well, I’d take freedom for any price. Even if that meant my sword was damaged.>

I felt a little better thinking of it that way. And, I think talking about it helped Dawn sort through her feelings on the matter, too.

We paused the conversation for the moment. While we’d been talking, the announcer had continued with some basic preliminary information. Mostly the same stuff as usual, as well as thanking the audience for their patience in waiting for the delayed match.

After that, it was time.

I watched closely.

Then, in an instant, the lights on the stage died.

“Begin.”

***

In the beginning, there was only darkness.

Small motes of light manifested only moments later, revealing Ravenshade standing alone.

She quickly scanned in all directions, then drew the white-hilted jian with her right hand. The blade was some kind of grey metal and I couldn’t see any obvious runes on the surface, but it did have a pure-white crystal in the place of a pommel. A moment later, she put her free hand on one of the daggers on her belt, then plunged into the darkness.

A burst of light illuminated another portion of the stage a moment later. Not from the manifestation of one of the motes.

No, Haruka Saito stood, her hands clasped together and her strange ringed staff floating just in front of her. She mumbled some kind of repeated phrase in a language I didn’t understand — Artinian, maybe, which was apparently the native language of some of Dalenos.

Around her, that patch of light warped and wobbled, gradually filling with pulsing rainbows of colors. The effect was beautiful, but I had absolutely no idea what she was doing. I mean, aside from making pretty lights.

<The colors remind me of shrouds. Layers and layers of them. Could it be some kind of many-level defensive barrier?>

That was good speculation, but I never found out the answer. It was only a few moments later that Ravenshade burst into the rainbow field, her entire body enshrouded in inky blackness.

Haruka spun toward her in an instant, her hands flying apart as she yelled, “Stop.” The word was in Cas, but it was one of the few words I’d picked up over the weeks since the Battle Royale.

Ravenshade froze in place.

I grimaced. That kind of command-based magic was very difficult to work around. I’d considered doing something like plugging my ears with wax before a match against Haruka Saito, but I wasn’t sure if even that would work. I’d been somewhat affected even when I hadn’t understood what she’d been saying, which implied some component beyond understanding the word itself. Maybe sound was the medium for the spell to move, maybe not.

Either way, it seemed effective. The darkness around Ravenshade was almost definitely some kind of magic nullification shroud, but it didn’t seem to be enough to stop an Emerald-level spell.

Saito waved a hand. Her staff shifted in the air, the rings atop it jangling more and more rapidly as they began to glow brighter and brighter.

Ravenshade shuddered, but didn’t move.

“Begone, warrior of shadows.”

The blast that followed was an enormous horizontal pillar of pure white that crossed the distance between the fighters in a moment and engulfed the entire upper half of Ravenshade’s body.

When the light vanished, the entire top half of Ravenshade was missing. She’d been torn apart like paper.

That might have horrified me if I hadn’t seen the second Ravenshade sneaking up behind Haruka Saito while it happened.

As the first Ravenshade collapsed, the second sprung, sword in one hand and dagger in the other.

Haruka spun before the attack could be completed, contemptuously opening her mouth to speak, presumably the same word as before.

…But no sound emerged from her throat.

Ravenshade was wielding Symphony’s Last Embrace, the dagger that created a sphere of silence around the wielder. And Haruka Saito’s command magic did require sound, after all.

A moment later Ravenshade had closed the distance to her opponent, swinging that jian in a precise strike toward Saito’s throat.

Saito’s eyes widened fractionally as her command failed, but she stepped backward, barely avoiding the first swing. Her staff came up, seemingly of its own accord, and blocked the next two strikes that followed.

Ravenshade danced backward, pointing at the ground with the white-and-grey sword. Snakes of shadow surged upward from the ground, shooting toward Saito’s legs.

Saito’s staff crushed one of the shadows, then she grabbed another with her bare hands and squeezed, light flashing in her fingers. Those that she smote erupted into smoke, but one slipped through her defenses, opening jaws of shadow and biting into her leg. Saito let out a soundless scream, then pointed, a ray of light enveloping the snake and blasting it into nothingness.

In the moment that followed, Ravenshade closed the distance again, swinging with both weapons. Saito manifested a pair of weapons in her own hands — a pair of glimmering batons of light — and did her best to parry the attacks, but stumbled as she attempted to retreat on her wounded leg.

Ravenshade lunged. Saito smashed her batons together, shattering them and creating a spherical burst of light that enveloped the entire area. The force of the explosion hurled Ravenshade backward and to the ground.

When Ravenshade hit the ground, she lost her grip on the dagger. The metal clanging as it tumbled from her grasp was the sound of the fight’s tempo changing. Apparently, Symphony’s Last Embrace only worked while it was being held.

Saito must have realized the same thing. She stepped closer to Ravenshade, raising both hands. Her staff followed her motion, floating upward and beginning to chime in the air. The weapon began to vibrate rapidly, chiming louder and louder with each passing moment.

Then, looming above Ravenshade, she spoke: “Choke.”

Ravenshade coughed, her free hand going up to her throat.

Saito’s staff descended in a flash. Ravenshade rolled, barely avoiding being impaled as the staff jammed into the stone where she’d been lying.

The stone rippled where the staff pierced it, sending cracks through the ground that spread by the moment. I felt it next: the entire arena shaking.

Ravenshade continued to roll, pulling a knife off her bandolier and throwing it from the ground, but Saito deflected it with the back of a bare hand. Then Saito swung her other hand, a wave of light following her swing and slicing cleanly through the ground.

Before the wave reached her, Ravenshade abandoned her sword and pushed against the ground, a sudden burst of power hurling her into the air.

Saito followed Ravenshade’s movement, her hand still guiding that cutting beam of light. Ravenshade crossed her arms defensively, darkness solidifying, but Saito’s light tore through shroud and shadow alike, leaving a bleeding burn across Ravenshade’s arms where the light made contact.

Ravenshade snapped her fingers, chains of shadows lashing out toward her opponent, only to be torn apart as Saito refocused her beam of light. A moment later, Ravenshade finally landed on the ground — then turned and ran.

Saito focused her beam into the darkness where Ravenshade had fled, but where the light parted the shadow, Ravenshade wasn’t found. She must have turned to the side the moment she fled into the darkness.

From there, Saito turned her beam, slowly cutting through the darkness in a circle, revealing more of an empty arena.

A pair of knives flicked out of the darkness from the opposite side of the arena from where Saito was aiming, but Saito’s staff shot behind her and deflected them easily.

Saito spun toward the direction of the attack, immediately blasting that area.

Ravenshade looked down in horror at the hole in the middle of her chest…

Then vanished.

The third Ravenshade shot out of the shadows a moment later, wielding the black-hilted jian. A wispy aura of darkness surrounded the blade, obscuring the features. Even with that effect and the mask, though, I frowned as I processed something at the same time Dawn spoke in my mind.

<That isn’t Twilight’s Edge.>

We were almost certain of it, but we didn’t have time to ponder what it implied.

Ravenshade closed most of the distance to her opponent in a heartbeat.

This one is faster, I realized as Saito spun and produced another wave of cutting light, only for Ravenshade to duck and weave under it at point-blank range.

Then Ravenshade’s strange jian swept up, cutting a broad gash across Saito’s chest.

Saito stumbled backward, crimson spreading across her robes, and opened her mouth to speak a final command: “Sto—”

Ravenshade punched Saito in the throat.

With that, Saito fell to her knees, clutching at her neck. Her staff moved to strike of its own accord, but Ravenshade caught it in mid-air with her free hand. Then, she slammed the pommel of her sword into Saito’s temple.

Saito collapsed to the arena floor with a groan. By the time that she managed to lift her head from the ground, Ravenshade’s sword was at her throat. She stared at the blade for a moment, pressing her eyes shut. Then, with great hesitation, she whispered, “I yield.”

Ravenshade nodded, stepping back and sheathing her sword.

The sound that followed was thunderous applause. The announcer spoke a moment later:

“People of Edria, honored guests. The winner of the match is the Phantom Thief Ravenshade!”

The crowd continued to cheer, but the announcer was mistaken.

“Ravenshade” raised one hand to wave to the crowd, while the other went back to clutching her injured stomach. My eyes narrowed as I watched her, pieces of evidence crystalizing in my mind.

I knew it from her movements, from her tactics, from her spells, and from her sword and dagger. I saw it from the way she’d first drawn a sword with her right hand, rather than her left. And, most of all, from the way that she’d been clutching her stomach, rather than her shoulder or ribs. She was wounded, but the wrong place.

That woman was not the Phantom Thief Ravenshade.

***

As the impostor stood triumphant in the arena, I fought down my instinct to rush down and unmask her. It would have been a useless gesture — it wasn’t like the crowd knew what the original Ravenshade looked like. And even if revealing the charade was successful, it wasn’t necessarily a beneficial move. I didn’t know enough about who was down there or their motivations.

Maybe Ravenshade herself had hired someone to take her place in the match, and I’d be ruining her plans if I revealed the swap.

Perhaps there had always been more than one Ravenshade — one for the heists, one for the arena, or something along those lines. Velas had played a similar trick with arena matches back when I’d first met her, and I couldn’t discount the possibility that the same thing was going on here.

…But everything about the situation felt wrong to me. The heist on the scythe, the injuries she’d suffered, the way that the unfamiliar figure in the arena felt familiar.

When Emperor Fang appeared in the arena, something finally clicked in my mind.

“Congratulations on your victory, Wielder of Twilight’s Edge. Though I cannot condone your chosen profession, you have proven yourself worthy as a warrior.” He extended his hand and a box. “Please accept this gift as a token of your victory.”

Ravenshade accepted the box with a smile. I shivered as things began to click into place.

The last piece of the puzzle came moments later, when the false Ravenshade made her reply. “Thank you, Emperor Fang.” She bowed her head. “For allowing me to participate in these festivities, as well as your gift. It is my honor to offer you a gift in return.”

The emperor’s eyebrows went up just slightly, perhaps in surprise at Ravenshade going off script, but he responded quickly enough. “What sort of gift?”

“The greatest prize of my career.” She reached into a bag at her side, a movement that might have drawn a defensive response from guards, if he’d brought any with him. The emperor simply watched, seeming curious, as the impostor withdrew an object from her bag.

Her gift seemed a simple one, at a first glance. It was a beautiful rune-etched amulet with a single brilliant red crystal in the center. The size of the crystal and the obvious magical power that radiated out from it marked the item as a worthy gift.

My heart leapt when I recognized it. Recognized everything, a heartbeat too late.

“No,” I whispered. I turned toward the doorway to the box, my hand already reaching for the sword at my hip.

Walter was there, standing right in front of the door, his arms folded. He shook his head at me.

Reika must have caught a part of it, too. “…Meilin? Is that…Meilin, down there?”

“It is,” Grandmother Iron confirmed. “And she’s about to—”

Her voice faltered as a crimson flash enveloped the entire arena.

Then I heard the voice that came from the crystal, now behind me. “A marvelous gift, indeed.”

The voice was Edria Fang’s, but the tone, the cadence…it was all wrong. Wrong in a way that was all-too-familiar.

Akadi.

I turned from Walter toward Iron, my eyes wide with horror.

Grandmother Iron had the broadest smile I’d ever seen on her face. “It is over, then. It’s finally over.”

“…Grandmother…” Reika’s voice trembled. “What have you done?”

My hands clenched into fists. “What she’d planned from the start. Revenge, at any cost.”

“Right you are, Selyrian.” She gave me a nod. “I’m impressed that you’ve managed to put it together.”

“Don’t give me that resh. You manipulated me. Manipulated us both.” I hissed. “And I don’t have time for this. People are going to die.”

Iron gave me a half-hearted shrug. “I imagine they will. Unfortunate, but not avoidable. You do not have to be one of them, however.” She reached into a pouch, retrieving something.

Diamantine’s amulet. She must have taken it out of my room at some point during the day. It looked much the same as before, but there was a new green crystal in the center where the gap in the metal had once been. She’d fixed it, restoring the amulet’s full powers. She tossed it toward me.

I caught the amulet and glowered at her. “You expect me to use this against him.”

“Oh, I’m certain you will. You see yourself as a hero. You’re going to rush down there right now and try to save anyone you can.”

“You realize that includes the emperor?”

“Oh, yes.” She waved a hand dismissively. “I’ve been watching you very closely, Selyrian. I’ll tell you how this is going to go. You’re going to rush down there, filled with determination to free the emperor from Akadi’s control and save everyone. You’re going to burn through your light mana in an ill-advised attempt to break the possession and you’re going to fail. He’s going to hurt you, very badly. Maybe hurt some innocents, too. And when your hope is lost, you’ll draw your other sword, and you’ll destroy him utterly.”

Her smile never faded as she shook her head at me. “It’s all you know how to do.”

“You’re wrong.” I pulled off the Pale King’s amulet and stuffed that in my bag — it was still drained from my fight with Ishyeal and wouldn’t be able to help me much in the coming battle. Then I slung Diamantine’s amulet on and fastened it into place. “I’ve failed many times, I admit that. For years, my last resort proved to be my only true solution. I will not allow those failures to define my future. I will not be the instrument of your revenge.”

Grandmother Iron simply shrugged. “An excellent attempt at an inspiring speech, but an irrelevant one. You can’t free him. He’s effectively dead regardless of what you do. I’ve already won.”

Reika’s eyes were wide with horror. “…You would work with Akadi? After what he did to Xiaofan…? To Ari?”

Walter looked a little disturbed, but Iron simply shook her head. “Oh, no, dear. No, nothing like that. We’re simply setting him up to be killed as well. Both of our enemies will end today — by Keras’ hand or another’s.”

“You’re awful!” Reika punched her fists together. “I can’t believe you’d do this! It’s a betrayal of everything Ari died fighting for!”

“I think I know what Ari would have wanted better than you, dear. But it doesn’t matter. There is no stopping what we’ve begun.”

“We’ll find a way.” I glanced to Reika. She nodded to me.

“You won’t. But why would you even want to? The emperor is a petty tyrant, the latest recipient of a dynasty held in place by a history of lies. The lie that Diamantine makes them fit to rule. The lie that Diamantine can be fairly earned by any who strive hard enough.” She spat. “I challenged him and he murdered my friends for it. He took my body. He took everything that mattered!”

I raised an eyebrow and jerked a thumb at Walter. “So your students don’t matter?” I looked to Fai, who was looking surprised and distressed by our raised voices, but didn’t seem to be able to follow the conversation. He still didn’t speak Velthryn. I wondered if he even knew what we were arguing about.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Iron snapped. “You can’t turn them against me, and that isn’t the point. Keep defending the emperor and you are nothing but Keras Selyrian, champion of a false ruler and defender of the status quo.”

I shook my head. “You might be right about some of that. That he rules with deception, that he doesn’t fairly maintain his place. But I’ve been down this road before. I helped depose a ruler once, didn’t think enough about the consequences. He was a liar, and he’d wronged me, so I helped fight him. I didn’t think hard enough about the aftermath and who would take his place. What’s going to happen if Keras Selyrian, believed to be from the nation of Valia, kills the emperor of Edria? I’m not an expert on local politics, Grandmother Iron, but even I have heard of the Six Years War. You know what I think? If I kill the emperor, that conflict is going to look like a pale shadow of what comes next.”

Iron stared at me for a long moment, her eyes narrowing. “There’s been another war brewing for ages, child. It’s not a matter of how it starts, only when.”

“Doesn’t mean I have to be the one to start it. And maybe, if I fight hard enough, I can stop that tide before it carries too far.” I turned back toward the doorway. “Walter,” I took a step forward, crushing the ground with my movement. “Get out of my way. Now.”

He shrugged, stepping away from the doorway. “If you insist. I won’t fight you. But I’d advise you to wait and listen to Grandmother for a moment first. I think you’ll agree that from a practical standpoint—”

I threw a punch. I didn’t move, I just swung a fist. The air warped around my hand and a burst of compressed enhancement essence flashed out, blasting the door to the box off its hinges.

Walter winced out of the way of the explosion of force, his eyes wide. “Keras, it’s not like we want people to get hurt—”

“Reika, let’s go.” I rushed out the door.

Iron was right about one thing — my initial instinct had been to run straight down to the arena and start a fight.

I had some ideas on how to end that differently from what she’d predicted, but either way, it was a bad move. The average Edrian citizen wasn’t going to know what was happening. If I rushed into the arena and attacked, it would look like I was trying to kill the leader of the nation. This required a little bit more finesse.

<Keras…I got some of it from your thoughts, but they’re racing too fast. What…what’s happening?>

When Ravenshade was attacked, we all assumed it was about Twilight’s Edge. It wasn’t. At least, not completely. Maybe they wanted that, too, but failed.

The assassin that attacked Ravenshade was Meilin. Meilin took the scythe, wounded Ravenshade, then took Ravenshade’s place in the tournament. Their skills are so similar that it wasn’t a difficult thing to sell, especially since Ravenshade uses identity-concealing magic of her own.

It’s…sort of my fault. If Meilin hadn’t helped me in the last round, she might have had a spot in the finals of her own.

<Don’t blame yourself for that. She probably would have gone after the scythe either way.>

Maybe. I don’t know how recently they planned any of this.

Either way, in the day or so since she stole the scythe, Meilin must have managed to get the gem out of the scythe. I’m guessing that broach was designed to amplify Akadi’s remaining power within it somehow, allowing it to break through the emperor’s defenses when he touched it. Ishyeal never purified that piece of the stone — Meilin and the crown princess never gave us a chance to see the scythe again after the fight.

<Do you think Hannah was in on it? We know that she knew Meilin and the others. Do you think she’s the one who told them where to find the scythe? Could they have been working together this whole time?>

It’s possible, but if the plan was to get close enough to the emperor to give him a “gift”, Hannah almost certainly had earlier opportunities. It’s possible that they went through a more complex plan to give her deniability — if she’d handed him the crystal herself, it would out her as a traitor immediately, and they may need her to look innocent for future stages of their coup. But I think it’s more likely she had other plans for the scythe. Maybe she was plotting with them and they double crossed her?

<Or maybe she double-crossed them. I can’t imagine that Meilin would have deliberately planned what happened to poor Ari. The crystal must have been in him before the tournament even started, right?>

When Dawn said that, I briefly thought I felt something coming from the crystal that I was still carrying in my belt pouch — the fragment that had been embedded in Ari’s chest. Some hint of awareness from Vendria’s spirit within it, maybe? Perhaps she’d sensed that we were talking about her, or the activation of the other part of her essence?

I don’t know.

Tentatively, I reached out with my mind toward the crystal. I felt something there, but it wasn’t aware enough to respond to me in words. Not yet, at least.

I reached Hannah’s box a moment later. Reika was right behind me, which was fortunate, because the guard outside the box didn’t speak Valian. After a brief exchange, Reika turned to me. “She’s not here. He thinks she’s with the crown princess?”

I cursed. We ran toward the royal box. Guards stopped us there, too, but that proved only a momentary problem. The crown princess pushed out the doors right after we arrived, a look of cold fury on her face. Hannah trailed right behind her, along with a half-dozen other members of the royal guard.

“The emperor—” I started.

“We are aware.” The crown princess snapped her fingers. “Follow.”

For once, I followed instructions without complaint. Unless the crown princess was in on the plan — a prospect I mentally labeled as very unlikely — she was the most likely to be able to handle the situation in a way that minimized casualties.

Reika looked more conflicted, but said nothing. She was undoubtedly thinking about Meilin’s role in all this. I reached out and gave her hand a squeeze as we followed the crown princess.

Hannah and I briefly exchanged looks, but she didn’t say anything, either. I couldn’t get a feeling for her disposition just from her look. It wasn’t an overtly guilty expression, just focused.

“Your majesty,” Friedrich, one of the royal guards, hesitantly began, “perhaps it’s time we alert the visages.”

The crown princess shook her head and kept walking. “They’re not here.”

“Not…here?” Friedrich blinked.

“They’re otherwise engaged and not to be interrupted for any reason.”

Several of the royal guards frowned at that, but didn’t contradict her. I could tell what they were probably thinking — what could be more important than the emperor being possessed?

I thought it more likely that it wasn’t a matter of importance, but rather that Edria Song didn’t want them to intervene. Perhaps she was involved in planning this whole thing and didn’t want the visages messing up whatever conspiracy she was a part of, but I thought it more likely that she simply didn’t want them to know that such a colossal problem had happened. I’d heard stories of visages leveling nations that displeased them. I didn’t know if there was any truth to those tales, but if so, I could see why she might be concerned that a visage might take extreme measures when an emperor was taken over by an otherworldly threat.

Maybe it was just a simple matter of pride: calling in the visages to save the leader of your nation would be a tremendous admission of failure.

The absence of the visages was suspicious timing, too. Someone had almost certainly planned for that specific time window, unless they’d been gone for a while. I wanted to ask more about it, but it wasn’t the right time to try to dig into a conspiracy.

We were half-way down the stairs when the princess froze. She let out a curse, then turned toward her guards. “Ravenshade just teleported out of the arena. Emma, Bernhart, Rolf — get the viewing crystals disabled and begin evacuating the area. Friedrich, Wang Li, Liu Yang —set up area containment. Li Jing, take the rest of the unit and head to the airship dock to begin emergency procedures.”

Most of the guards trailing behind us broke off to follow her orders, with only Hannah staying, presumably due to some pre-planned agreement.

“Did the emperor teleport out as well?” Reika asked.

“No,” the crown princess replied. “He’s just standing there. It’s…possible he’s still struggling.” She sounded hopeful…but doubtful.

“If he’s just waiting, this is probably a trap…or a distraction.” I frowned.

“We must confront him regardless. Our best hope for freeing him is striking quickly. And if that monster learns how to use his abilities…”

“He won’t,” Hannah interjected. “We won’t give him a chance.”

“Any progress on finding counters to his possession?” I asked.

“We haven’t had any further encounters with Akadi since your last meeting.”

“But you had the crystal—”

“Nothing. We have nothing. Your attempts to free your friend were the closest thing to success we’ve seen.”

And we all knew how that ended.

Iron was right about one thing — if I just tried the same thing here, it would end up playing out just like last time…if I even survived that long. I’d recovered considerably in the hour between matches, but I wasn’t at my best. I knew Akadi would be vastly stronger with this body, too. I wasn’t confident we could beat him even if I did use the Dominion Breaker. Sure, I could obliterate the entire area if I wanted to, but that wasn’t a victory.

<How’s your mana?>

Not great. I’ve recovered about half, if that.

I turned to the crown princess. “Dawnbringer’s light was almost enough to free Ari, but we’re both drained from the fight with Ishyeal. Maybe if you hit him with light mana at the same time?”

“Rudimentary, but sound. If he has any command of grandfather’s powers, however, it will fail. He’ll simply shape the light out of the way or counter it with shadow. Or void. Or shade.”

“A distraction first, then? If Reika and Hannah can get his attention…”

“You bet we will.” Reika punched her fists together.

I gave her a weak smile. “Get that amulet away from him, too, if you can. I don’t know if separating him from the crystal will reverse the process, but it might help.”

More nods in confirmation. I wished we had more time to discuss things, but it was the most we could manage in the few moments before Edria Song raised a hand to bring us to a halt.

“Stop here,” the princess instructed. “The viewing crystals are off. I’m going to teleport us into the arena.”

That was remarkably fast.

<One of her guards probably has communication magic.>

We gathered up. The crown princess waved a hand, manifesting a shimmering portal. Without hesitation, she drew Diamantine and stepped through it. Hannah went through next.

Through the portal, I could see only blackness. I recognized the reason — it was the subduing shadow energy that had permeated part of the arena during the match. Apparently, we were going to be teleporting straight into one of those sections.

Dawn, are you going to be—

<Go. This is too important.>

Reika and I exchanged looks, squeezed each other’s hands, and then stepped through the portal into darkness.

CHAPTER XXXI – DARKENED SOULS

Alone.

When I stepped through the portal, I was alone. Well, not strictly speaking — Dawn was still at my side. But with her illumination, visible even while she was sheathed, my vision pierced far enough into the darkness to know that there weren’t any other people within a few feet of me.

I didn’t have much time to wonder if it had been a deliberate deception on Edria Song’s part. A heartbeat after I arrived, I heard a loud thump as something landed behind me.

I spun, my hand on Dawn’s hilt and braced to draw. It wasn’t a foe that had made the sound, though.

It was the crack of a body hitting the ground.

Haruka Saito. Or, what was left of her anyway. Her neck was snapped at the kind of angle that…well, my healing potions weren’t going to fix it. I won’t bother going into her other injuries, save to note the gigantic slice across most of her torso. The edges of the wound were blackened, but not like burns. Inky spiderwebs of dark spread out across her skin from the injury point in a way that might have suggested a lethal poison, but I recognized them as something different.

Vek taint. The shade-infesting contagion used by the Sun Eater’s forces to steal bodies for her own use.

Her corpse twitched.

“I’m sorry.”

I cut. The body stilled.

Then, I swung around just in time to block the attack that the distraction had bought my enemy. The sheer force of the strike hurled me backward several feet, sending me sliding across the arena floor, but I caught sight of my opponent before I hurtled further into the darkness.

Emperor Edria Fang, holding a scythe formed seemingly from solid crimson energy. The weapon’s blade flickered and crackled in place, unstable and unpredictable.

He’d vanished back into the shadows before I could make any sort of counter.

“You moved quickly. I didn’t think you had it in you to desecrate a body.” Akadi’s voice rang out from the emperor’s body. “A shame. She might have made an acceptable replacement for one of the shells you ruined.”

I swung immediately in the direction of the sound, sending a crescent of light in his direction. The shockwave visibly weakened as it progressed through the darkness, then faded entirely as Emperor Fang cleaved through it with his scythe.

“Tsk. Rude to interrupt your ruler while he’s speaking.” He released a hand from his scythe, moving his hand upward.

I knew what was coming.

Body of Stone.

I was prepared for the attack, but not the sheer force of it. Pain surged through my body in an instant as my wrist bones compressed, but failed to shatter. Dawn slipped through limp fingers, clattering to the ground.

Distantly, I processed that she should have been able to float. Was the shadow field dampening her strength so much that she couldn’t use the attachment?

In the next heartbeat, Emperor Fang was in front of me, his scythe casually raised against his shoulder. “That’s a fine weapon, there. Perhaps I’ll add it to my collection. Perhaps I’ll add you to my collection as well. Your body can serve as recompense for all the trouble you’ve caused.”

As the throbbing in my wrist diminished, I processed something about my opponent — or rather, a distinct lack of something. I’d always sensed the presence of a sacred sword while near him, most likely because he possessed a piece of Diamantine.

With this emperor, however, I didn’t sense such a thing at all. Either he’d gotten rid of it since taking over the body, or, more likely…

“A simulacrum?” I mused aloud. “You’re here to keep me away from the others.”

“You’re right and wrong. I’m a copy, yes, but you think too much of yourself. You aren’t the one my true self is worried about, and I’m more than capable of—”

Release Body of Stone.

Body of Dawn.

I drew and cut.

Release Body of Dawn.

A confused expression crossed his face for an instant as I slid the Dominion Breaker back into its scabbard with a click.

Then, Emperor Edria Fang split vertically in half.

I’d cut through his armor, body, and scythe in a single strike.

As he fell apart, his form vanished into essence, and I knelt to pick Dawn up.

“You okay?”

<…Fine. But Keras, you just…you killed him!>

Simulacrum. He confirmed he was a copy.

<He could have been trying to trick you!>

I shrugged. The real emperor’s armor, shroud, and bond to Diamantine probably would have stopped me from being able to cut through him like that.

<Probably?>

Probably. We can discuss later. I appreciate your concern, but now is a time for decisive action. We’re both drained. That momentary use of Body of Dawn cost me a little, but nowhere near as much as an extended fight would have. We’re going to need every bit of essence we have left for the real emperor.

<…You’re probably right. Just…be careful, okay?>

I nodded, flexing my injured wrist. It wasn’t that bad, but I still pulled one of my healing potions out and downed half of it. Then, as that tingling flooded through my wrist and hand, I turned back to Dawn.

Why weren’t you flying when I was disarmed? The darkness sapping your strength too much?

<No, it’s draining me, but that’s not the problem. The attachment you put on my pommel isn’t working at all.>

I lifted her and took a look. I didn’t see anything amiss, so I extended my metal sense and…there they were. Hairline cracks in the metal, disrupting the surface of the runes.

Must have taken some damage from the explosion when we hit Soulbrand. I took a moment to metal shape the cracks, trying to repair the runes within. Did I fix it properly?

<Not sure. I still can’t activate it, but that might be because the darkness in here is preventing it from regenerating mana.>

I took another moment to inspect Dawn’s own structure, but I didn’t find any similar damage. Presumably, her access to my essence and her magic resistance had protected her properly, but that hadn’t been enough to protect the attachment. Not completely.

We’ll need to be more careful in the future.

<Yeah. For now, though, I think we have higher priorities.>

I nodded in agreement, then closed my eyes and concentrated.

Sense Sacred Sword.

I could feel Diamantine, distant in the dark. One clear source and two weaker ones, all clustered together.

I ran toward it as fast as I could.

***

I knew I was getting close when I had to throw myself to the side to dodge a lance of lightning that flickered out of the darkness ahead. I rushed toward the origin point. The sight ahead wasn’t good.

Hannah was down and unmoving. Her right hand was lying about five feet away from the rest of her. A pool of blood was steadily spreading beneath her unconscious form.

Crown Princess Edria Song stood in front of Hannah’s fallen form, Diamantine held in a defensive stance. When she turned her head fractionally toward me as I approached, I saw something strange and discomforting — the attunement mark on her forehead had lost its light.

I didn’t see Reika anywhere, but that wasn’t surprising. Presumably, Akadi had split us all up, and she was likely fighting another copy of the emperor. That wasn’t a great matchup for her — she didn’t have the ability to end it instantly like I had. But I didn’t have time to worry.

“Left!” Edria Song shouted.

I barely caught it in time — a subtle blur and the presence of crystal. I raised Dawn and caught the swing of an invisible opponent, the force of the blow driving me back a step.

I reacted immediately, before he had a chance to retreat. “Golden Dawn!”

Dawn’s blade flashed with blinding light, blasting apart the darkness in the area surrounding us. More importantly, I’d gambled correctly — the burst of radiance revealed the form of Emperor Edria Fang standing only a few feet away. Golden Dawn didn’t counter all forms of invisibility, but he must have been hiding himself using shadow magic, or something similar enough that she was able to dispel it.

A visible opponent was much easier to counter, but I didn’t like what I saw.

Emperor Edria Fang raised one hand to shield his eyes from Dawn’s light, but his other hand held an all-too-familiar weapon — Diamantine. My senses told me it was real, another sacred sword. That all but confirmed my earlier hypothesis that the weapon had somehow been split into pieces, but it was worse than I’d anticipated. I hadn’t expected the fragments to be able to form full-sized weapons on their own.

I’d hoped that Golden Dawn might banish the shade that was possessing him, but I had no such luck. He was momentarily disoriented, but there was no sign of any slithering shadow escaping from his body.

I lashed out in his moment of blindness, aiming for the only part of his body not covered in armor — his face. I’d almost managed to save Ari by cutting him and blasting light mana straight into him. If I could do the same to the emperor, maybe I had a chance…

He parried, of course. Even half-blind, he was fast, and he likely had mana-based senses as well. His counterstroke was clumsy and easy to block, but by the time I’d defended myself, Dawn’s burst of light had almost faded. Golden Dawn was a powerful technique, but not a long-lasting one.

I made one more swing, which he stepped back to avoid, then a blast of light from Edria Song crashed into him and drove him back a step further. It accomplished nothing else, but a little bit of space was helpful. The heartbeat of pause gave me a moment to look at him — and notice the new chain around his neck.

That’s…

I barely had a moment to process it before his free hand moved.

Body of Iron.

This time, he pointed at my shoulder. Body of Iron was a much stronger defensive technique, and it worked just as well as I’d hoped — his bone-breaking power was reduced to a merely disorienting twitch inside my body.

Body of Iron wouldn’t last long, though. It was taxing in the best of times, and I wasn’t fully recovered from the fight against Ishyeal. Worse, the shadows in the arena were already beginning to reform in the absence of Golden Dawn’s light, and they’d drain me further when they returned.

I lunged, swinging hard at a downward angle with the full knowledge that he’d parry.

Burden Band: Impact.

With Body of Iron and the Burden Band, I hit him so hard I drove his legs straight through the stone of the arena floor, like I was hammering a nail. As the stone splintered beneath him, I swung for his face again.

My sword was a hair away from his skin when he snapped his fingers and vanished.

I cursed and spun around, expecting an immediate ambush, but he was gone — at least for the moment. I could sense his fragment of Diamantine, but it was distant. He’d teleported out of the area.

I doubted he’d be gone long.

Release Body of Iron.

I kept my sword up and moved closer to Edria Song. “What happened?”

The crown princess swept her gaze around the area, searching, then turned to me. “Ambushed. While I fought a simulacrum, he appeared behind me and used an ability to seal half my attunements. Then he cut Hannah down.”

I winced. “Can you help her?”

“Perhaps, but he’ll probably—” She spun in mid-sentence, conjuring a dome of green energy around us just in time to block a dozen javelins of lightning. The barrier shimmered and cracked from each impact, but held.

In the next moment, the emperor reappeared next to her, already swinging. I rushed forward to intercept, but Edria Song was faster, flicking a finger and blasting her grandfather backward with a burst of pure force.

As he flew backward, the emperor slammed a foot into the ground, both arresting his movement and causing the floor beneath Edria Song to liquefy. She floated upward without a moment of pause, as if she’d known it was going to happen. Then with a gesture, she froze the area around her grandfather, sealing him in ice.

He vanished in an instant.

As he reappeared to my right, I clicked my heels together, activating my Planelock Boots. I had no illusions about them actually being effective against someone of his level of power, but I hoped they might at least interfere with his teleportation and make the spells harder to cast.

I swung at him immediately thereafter, but he parried easily and sent me flying backward with a casual burst of force from his other hand.

There was a flicker in the air around Edria Song, then she moved in a blur, swinging Diamantine a dozen times in an instant. The emperor parried with the same speed, seemingly without difficulty.

They exchanged dozens of moves so quickly that I could barely follow them. Not just sword swings — blasts of every element from their off-hands, bursts of motion, and power manifesting in the air itself.

They’re using some kind of speed technique to move that quickly. I can’t keep up without Body of Dawn and I don’t know if I can maintain that long enough to make a difference. And if I use it now and fail, I might be too weak to help with the rest of the fight.

<You don’t need to match their speed; you just need to swing the fight in Edria Song’s favor.>

Dawn was right, but there wasn’t an easy solution to that. At their speed, virtually any direct attack I attempted would be so sluggish that it might not even be a viable distraction.

I did have one attack that might work, though. Something that moved so quickly that he couldn’t hope to react to it, even with that speed technique active.

My free hand shifted toward the Dominion Breaker.

<If you do that, you’ll kill him. That’s exactly what Iron wanted.>

Dawn was right, of course.

I almost did it anyway.

There was a part of me that said that winning the fight was worth it. If Akadi won here and laid claim to the body of the Emperor of Edria permanently, the amount of damage that he could do was almost unthinkable.

<That’s the same justification you always use. That there’s no better solution. That you have to use the sword. I’m not saying that you should never use the weapon. Cutting that simulacrum down immediately was smart. But here…it’s going to have a serious cost, Keras.>

<You’re better than that. You can find another way to help.>

I took a steadying breath and focused.

I’ll try.

<We’ll try together.>

Plans flashed through my mind. Mine. Dawn’s.

Then we got to work.

My free hand shot into the pouch at my side. I found what I was looking for easily — a fragment of red crystal. I felt the fragment of a spirit stirring within it.

Forgive me for using you like this.

I extended my senses toward the crystal, feeling the composition as best I could. I wasn’t as good at sensing crystal as I was with metal, of course, but I’d been practicing ever since I’d freed Dawn and made her that crystalline scabbard.

My goal wasn’t complicated. It was a simple variation on one of my oldest techniques.

I lifted the crystal toward the emperor and focused.

Crystal Pull.

The emperor’s eyes widened fractionally as the amulet around his neck yanked toward me, my fragment of crystal calling to its other half.

His hand flew up to stop the necklace from moving. In that instant, Edria Song struck, landing a single clean strike that hit his upper arm. The rune-etched plate around his arm exploded in a burst of shrapnel, but he countered with a swing of his own before she could follow the attack with another.

As Edria Song parried, I slashed with Dawn, sending a crescent of light toward his now-exposed arm. He dispersed that crescent with another lightning-fast swing, but he was distracted now, one hand busy holding his amulet in place.

For a moment, I thought we held the advantage.

Edria Song flashed forward, only to crash into a wall of invisible force. She bounced off of it with a groan, then charged back toward it, swinging Diamantine and cutting a wide gouge. Her attack was working, but not fast enough.

“Like calls to like,” Emperor Edria Fang mused, tilting his head to me in acknowledgement. “Thank you for reminding me. Now, observe it put to better use.”

His necklace stilled. He’d cut off my pull somehow, presumably with some kind of protection spell.

While Edria Song sliced through the invisible barrier in front of her, the emperor raised his finger and pointed toward her.

She hadn’t screamed when he’d tried to break her bones earlier. She’d barely reacted — that technique hadn’t harmed her in the slightest.

But she screamed, then. She screamed loud and hard, falling to her knees, her sword slipping free from her hand.

It was only a moment later that I understood why. Blood welled from that hand as a shard of green crystal burst through it, flying toward the emperor. The sword itself trembled as it hit the ground, then began to float in the emperor’s direction as well.

Before I could react, I saw the second crystal shard — a fragment that emerged from Hannah’s severed hand.

Diamantine. That’s how they split it up. That’s why I felt it from multiple people. They had…pieces of the sword in their bodies.

<We can’t let him have them!>

Dawn, cut.

I lashed out with Dawn in the emperor’s direction, swinging hard.

A crescent of annihilating essence swept out from Dawn’s blade, mimicking the Dominion Breaker’s power. He vanished and reappeared only a few feet away, shaking his head. “A powerful technique, but too slow.”

His hand stretched out toward the floating fragments of crystal — only for the pieces to stop and hover in mid-air.

“Perhaps I can be of some assistance,” came a familiar voice. My heart leapt.

The emperor looked up, but too late. A moment later, he was entirely encased in green crystal.

The Green Guardian had arrived.

He floated downward to land at the side of the crown princess, and extended a hand to her trembling form. “You look like you could use a hand, princess.”

“You…you of all people…you would help me?” She looked at him with absolute shock.

The armored figure knelt by her side. “I am born of Edria, just as you are. We are not so different. Now, rise with me. There is still work to be done.”

The crystal around the emperor began to crack before they could stand, but I was already moving.

The Green Guardian had given me time and Edria Song had given me a weak point.

I charged.

Body of Dawn.

A surge of mana burst through my body just as the emperor freed himself from his crystal prison. Dawn flashed and cut straight into the emperor’s exposed upper arm, where Edria Song had shattered his armor. A hint of annihilating essence surrounded Dawn’s blade.

It was enough. I cut through Diamantine-reinforced skin and into his arm.

Now!

<Golden Dawn!>

A burst of renewed light flashed through Dawn’s blade and surged straight through her into the emperor’s arm. He pulled back, a guttural scream emerging from his throat, but I matched his movement and pressed the blade deeper.

Smoke rose from the wound, utterly black.

As the Green Guardian helped Edria Song to her feet, she raised her uninjured hand and joined my attack, her own light blasting outward to envelop the emperor’s entire body.

The emperor’s screams grew louder as he shuddered under the assault. It was working.

Right up to the point that the ground trembled beneath our feet…and then tilted.

I shifted my stance as soon as I felt the tremor, trying to continue to press my blade into the wound, but the shift seemed to bring the emperor renewed focus. He smashed Diamantine into my blade, jarring Dawn out of position, then lurched backward out of reach.

The moment my blade lost contact, he countered, swinging his hand in my direction.

Body of Dawn was, without a doubt, my strongest technique. It was not, however, quite as good as Body of Iron for protecting my bones.

And when the emperor moved his hand, his spell tried to crush every bone in my entire body.

I fell to the ground with a scream of my own. My bones didn’t break, but that didn’t stop them from trembling all at once, filling me with a kind of agony that I’d never experienced.

I was very, very good at fighting while in pain. I’d fought through wounds that no ordinary human could possibly function with.

But every bone in my body trying to rip itself free?

Nope. Couldn’t do a thing.

I screamed loud.

I wasn’t the only one having trouble. Edria Song’s blast of light tapered off as she lost her balance, the arena island having tipped so far to the side that she couldn’t aim accurately. “You…the island…what have you done?”

The Green Guardian let out a roar and flew toward the emperor with blinding speed, swinging a glowing fist.

The emperor caught the fist effortlessly, shaking his head. “Child, you should know better than anyone.” His hand tightened. The Green Guardian’s gauntlet cracked. “A sacred sword is useless against their wielder.”

The Green Guardian’s gauntlet exploded. As he stumbled back, the emperor swung his fist — and smashed straight through the center of the Green Guardian’s helmet.

My heart lurched. The helmet exploded.

…and revealed that there was nothing at all inside.

<That means…he…>

The helmless suit of armor fell backward, but only for a moment. It remained standing, raising its lone remaining fist. “I needn’t defeat you on my own, monster. Edria is strong. United, we are unstoppable.”

“United, you say? A poor choice of words. You’ve reminded me of what I was doing just before your arrival.”

The emperor snapped his fingers.

Two crystal fragments rose from the ground — the pieces of Diamantine that had been embedded in Hannah and the princess’ hands. Edria Song’s version of Diamantine lifted from the ground at the same time, floating along with the crystal shards.

As the crystals and blade began to float toward the emperor, the Green Guardian clutched at his chest. He let out a cough. “N…no…you can’t.”

“Oh, but I most certainly can.” The emperor’s hand reached outward toward the Green Guardian’s chest.

<Keras! Help him!>

I could see it, then. It was faint —a hint of Dawn’s mana perception overlaying with my own sight.

A line of light, leading from the emperor’s hand to something glittering inside the Green Guardian’s chest.

His heart. His soul.

Diamantine. A piece of the sword was in there.

And if I did nothing, the emperor was about to tear it out.

Release Body of Dawn.

Body of Iron.

I surged to my feet, still in agony, but the burst of metal mana suppressed the tremors in my bones. I stumbled as I stood, the ground still lurching unsteadily beneath me, but it was enough.

I focused on Dawn and cut.

A wave of annihilating force swept toward the emperor. He caught sight of it, but didn’t even bother to move. The cutting wave ripped through the air right in front of him.

“Pitiful.” The emperor shook his head. “I didn’t even have to move.”

I cracked a weak grin. “Wasn’t aiming for you.”

In the space in front of the emperor, a line had been cut.

The Green Guardian fell backward a step, then raised his hand toward where his face should have been, gazing at it in disbelief. Then, he turned toward me. “You…I’m…free…?”

“Useless.” The emperor swept a hand outward. A wave of force slammed into the Green Guardian, sending him flying. He crumpled into a heap on the ground.

I tried to swing again, this time aiming for the emperor, but he blasted me aside just as quickly. It was only a fraction of a second later that the crystals and sword finally came into the emperor’s reach. He extended his own version of Diamantine. As the crystals and the crown princess’ sword reached his weapon, they vanished, merging into the emperor’s blade in a flare of bright green power. “Better. Much better. Now, to end—”

A full-sized dragon’s tail slammed into him from behind, sending him flying off into the distance.

“I am so sorry that I’m late.” Reika was beaten and worn, trailing blood from a dozen wounds. In that desperate moment, though, she was the most beautiful creature that I had ever seen.

In the distance, the emperor was rising from the trembling ground. I swung in his direction, sending another crescent of annihilating force toward him before he could get to his feet.

He snapped his fingers and vanished before my strike could land, appearing in mid-air above us. I braced to swing again, destructive power flowing across Dawn’s blade.

Edria Song stood again, pressing her hands together and forming a gleaming orb of light between them, growing brighter by the second.

Reika took a deep breath.

The emperor’s eyes narrowed as he looked at each of us…then he snapped his fingers one last time and vanished.

Seconds passed…and he did not reappear again.

Edria Song spoke first. “He’s fled.” She allowed the mana within her hands to dissipate.

I sighed and clicked my heels together again, disabling the Planelock Boots. They’d failed again and I didn’t want to waste whatever mana they had remaining.

Reika released her breath, fortunately without exhaling a devastating swath of light in the process. Then, her shoulders slumped and she shifted back into her smaller, human-like form. “Ugh. I miss all of the big fights!”

Release Body of Iron.

I winced as a renewed surge of pain filled my body. I pushed the sliver of red crystal back in my bag, retrieving a healing potion. Not for myself.

I moved to kneel at Hannah’s side, opening the bottle.

Edria Song shook her head. “Do not bother. I will teleport her to a hospital.”

I nodded and took a swig of the potion. My body still felt awful, but it helped suppress the pain a bit.

I was about to move to the Green Guardian’s side when the island lurched again, almost throwing me off my feet.

Edria Song hissed, picked up Hannah’s hand, pressed it against Hannah’s body, then snapped her fingers. Hannah vanished.

The crown princess turned to look at me, then Reika. “We need to go. Now.”

“Go? Where?” Reika asked, walking closer. “What’s happening?”

Edria Song’s expression was grim. “Someone is destroying the island’s floatation crystals. If they all fail…”

“We’ll fall from the sky.” The Green Guardian’s voice was weak, almost inaudible. With the utmost effort, he pushed himself to a sitting position. “I will not allow it.”

“You are in no condition to fight,” Edria Song glared at him.

“You are little better. Your wounds are insignificant, but your powers are suppressed.”

Edria Song growled. “As your wielder, I command you—”

“You are not my wielder.” The Green Guardian pushed himself to his feet, seemingly with great effort. Tiny fragments of crystal rose from the ground — his shattered gauntlet and helmet — and floated over to him. As I watched, they knitted themselves together, then returned to their positions on his body. “I have no wielder.”

<It’s true, then. He’s…Diamantine.>

Or a piece of Diamantine, at least.

<But…how?>

Experimentally, the Green Guardian flexed his reformed hand, then turned to me. “You have done me a kindness by freeing me from that bond, Wielder of Dawnbringer.”

“I have many questions. Dawn—”

He raised a hand to stop me, then shook his head. “We will speak of it later, I swear it. But for now, we have a kingdom to save.”

Edria Song glared at him. “I will not accept this outcome. But for the moment…we have a greater enemy.”

With a wave of her hand, she formed one portal, then another beside it. “Akadi has fled to the airship dock with the emperor’s body. Someone else is cutting through the crystals supporting the island. We must handle both.”

“This may be a good time to call for reinforcements,” I pointed out.

Edria Song nodded. “I already have, but we must exercise extreme caution when confronting the creature that wears the emperor’s form. Both due to his power and…the political consequences of combatting him. Help is coming, but it may take some time.”

I nodded. “It’s probably best if Reika and I go after the emperor. You should not be seen fighting your grandfather in a public place.”

“Agreed.” Edria Song turned her head toward the Green Guardian. “If you insist on participating in this…will you accompany me?”

The Green Guardian lowered his head. “It would be my honor. You may not be my wielder, but you are still my princess.”

Edria Song looked…conflicted at that. “Very well, then.” She gestured toward the left portal. “Keras, Reika…that should take you directly to Akadi.”

“Last time, we ended up separated. Was that some property of the arena, or did he redirect the portal somehow?”

The crown princess flinched. “The latter, I think. And he may be able to do it again. Unfortunately, my portal spell requires an anchor — I am using Diamantine for it. There’s no easy way to put a portal just outside whatever his shaping range might be…and if I put it too far, you may not reach him in time.”

“It’s fine.” Reika shook her head. “We’ll be ready if something happens.”

I nodded. “She’s right. We’re losing time, we can’t afford to teleport further away.” I turned to Reika, offering her the remains of the healing potion I’d been sipping. She drank it, then handed the empty bottle back to me. That left me with one potion remaining. It didn’t feel like nearly enough for what was coming.

“Ready?” She asked.

I gave the Green Guardian one last look. I could feel how conflicted Dawn was to leave him, but I could also feel her resolve.

There would be time to talk to him later. There had to be.

“Let’s go.”

Together, we stepped through the portal.

***

It was strange to be in the light again. It was stranger still to find myself standing on the deck of a massive ship…albeit a ship that was only barely recognizable as such. Rather than traditional sails overhead, I saw some sort of massive, leathery-looking bladder, like…I don’t know, a building-sized wineskin. I’d never seen anything like it.

The deck below us was mostly wood, but with several large sections of metal etched with runes. Presumably, these contained some of the functions necessary to keep the ship afloat, or perhaps just enchantments to prevent the thing from falling apart.

I didn’t have much time to process the strangeness. I was standing about fifty feet from Emperor Edria Fang — the real one, not a copy. I could still sense Diamantine, more strongly now that he’d gathered and presumably absorbed the fragments that had been in Edria Song and Hannah’s hands.

There were no other people onboard. No ship crew, no guards…no Reika.

I wasn’t surprised, of course. I’d predicted this possible outcome. I’d be at a significant disadvantage without her help. The emperor himself was likely more than a match for me in raw power, even under ordinary circumstances. Possessed, he had Akadi’s power added to his own. And now, two more pieces of Diamantine.

A smile slid across my face.

I felt a little bad for leaving Reika out, but dire as the situation was, I couldn’t help myself.

I was going to enjoy this.

I slid into a defensive stance, bracing myself for whatever his first move would be. Powerful as he was, the possessed emperor didn’t seem to have fully mastered all of his abilities — I’d seen him throwing a number of ordinary spells, but not a lot of attunement-specific powers. If he decided to go for a big offensive spell to open the fight, Dawn probably still had enough mana to reflect it.

“You are a persistent creature.” The emperor lifted Diamantine to point at me in a gesture that might have implied an attack was imminent, but no such thing followed immediately. Each time he spoke, his voice sounded less and less like Edria Fang and more and more like what must have been Akadi’s true voice. “You are powerful, yes, but you must know that you cannot survive facing me. Even if I had not redirected your friend, two of you would not be enough. If this were a matter of loyalty to the flesh I wear, I could understand, but I have watched this place for some time. You are not one of this emperor’s servants. Why pursue me when you cannot hope for victory?”

Cautiously, I advanced. One step and then another, maintaining a low, defensive stance. He had the advantage at long-distance — his bone-breaking gestures were near instantaneous, whereas my ranged attacks were comparatively slow and low in offensive potency. If I could get into reach… “First, I don’t agree with you about the odds.”

“Arrogance, then? Pride?” He scoffed. “You wouldn’t have beaten this man even without my power flowing through him, boy. With my strength fueling him, he bears greater strength than any human I have encountered in this world. And with the pieces of the sword reunited, I am stronger still.”

Keep going, Keras. Keep him monologuing.

Another step, then another. “I’ve beaten two of your bodies already. You don’t think I can handle a slightly stronger one?”

“Two?” He laughed. “I will give you that you defeated Xiaofan, but the big man…what was his name?”

“Oskar,” I hissed, my jaw tightening. “Oskar Klein.”

“Yes, yes. You never defeated him. Oh, unless you mean the boy? Please. That insect hardly counts. Really, his body wasn’t even worth—”

I slammed my foot into the ground and surged forward in a burst of speed, fueling my movement with a flare of enhancement mana through my body. It wasn’t quite a “Body of Enhancement” technique, but I’d built up enough enhancement mana over the weeks since Dawn and I had reached the second stage of our bond to use it for a makeshift burst of power.

It worked, but I’d acted too soon. When Dawn flashed for his still-exposed shoulder, he simply moved Diamantine and parried, then sent me flying backward with a burst of force from his other hand.

He was fast. Too fast. I’d hoped the enhancement mana would be enough to compensate, but it simply wasn’t.

“Touched a nerve there, did I?” The emperor smiled. “Was he something to you? A brother, a son?”

“A friend.” I shook my head. “One who didn’t deserve to die like that. No one deserves to die like that.”

“I’ve always found that the method of death is largely irrelevant. You all go to the same place, after all. Well, unless your soul is consumed by someone like me, or trapped in a gem, or…”

I attacked again. He parried, then attempted the same burst with his off-hand. I braced myself with a momentary activation of Body of Stone, preventing his burst of force from knocking me back, then kept swinging. Sparks flew as Diamantine and Dawn met repeatedly. I couldn’t land a hit, but that wasn’t my only goal with the exchange.

Can you reach him?

<I’m trying, but Diamantine isn’t responding. I don’t know if this particular part of the sword is conscious. It might be that the Green Guardian was the only part that was intelligent.>

Or he could be silenced, much like Soulbrand was.

<Right. I don’t sense those kinds of mana on the sword, though.>

At a glance, I didn’t see the same kinds of silencing runes on Diamantine that were on Twilight’s Edge and Soulbrand — but it was hard to see them when the blade was flicking back and forth almost faster than my eyes could process. Moreover, there was always the chance that the runes could be concealed even if they were present. I knew that even powerful magical weapons could be reshaped to hide runes inside them — I’d done that trick more than once myself.

After a flurry of swings, the emperor managed a glancing cut across my right shoulder. I winced at the wound, stepping back. It wasn’t a dangerous cut on its own, but my cumulative injuries were taking their toll, and I didn’t have anywhere near enough time to down my remaining healing potion.

It would have been worse if the wound had started to turn me to stone, but it didn’t. A flood of stone mana rushed through Diamantine’s blade, but the amulet around my neck flashed, neutralizing the petrification power before it could take hold. With the amulet’s power, the cut was just a cut.

“So, this is about revenge, then?” The emperor nodded, more to himself than me. “That makes a degree of sense, at least. Your anger makes you weak, however. Predictable. You strike again and again with the same patterns. You will wear out and bleed out. I need do nothing else. You will exhaust yourself and die pitifully.”

I shook my head, circling to the left and readying Dawn for another attack. “You think you’ve got everything figured out, but there’s a key factor you’ve missed.”

“Oh? Enlighten me, please.” He rotated with me, Diamantine at the ready and a look of amusement on his face.

“First, I wasn’t talking about Ari when I mentioned defeating two of you before.” I flicked my sword at him, launching a crescent, which he blocked easily.

“Please. That big man had you beaten, until he was obliterated out of nowhere. Dawnsglow must have—” He went silent, taking a step back.

“I gave you too much credit. All this time, I assumed you knew that I’d destroyed that body. Planned around it. But it turns out I killed him so quickly you couldn’t tell what happened.” I let a smirk spread across my face. “Maybe I’ll do it again.”

He took another step back, eyes narrowing. “You’re bluffing. It was Dawnsglow, wasn’t it? That cursed creature must have teleported behind Oskar, hit him before he could react.”

I couldn’t resist. “What, like what he’s doing right now?”

In the ancient traditions of combat, there is no more famous technique than saying “look behind you”. When someone employs this tried-and-true tactic, there are two usual responses. The most common? Dismissal of the obvious trick, but with an edge of hesitation from the fear that it might be true.

The latter was rarer, a single glance over the shoulder. I was aiming for that, but I missed.

I missed perfectly.

The emperor flat-out froze, an expression of dread crossing his face. There was no one behind him, of course, but I wasn’t too proud to take the opening.

Dawn flashed. The emperor parried, but his reaction was panicked, giving me time for a follow-up. Before he could lift his off-hand, I gestured with mine.

Burden Band: Cling.

I hadn’t made too much use of that function — the net of density and enhancement mana that it projected moved too slowly to catch most opponents. The emperor himself was so quick that under ordinary circumstances, I never could have hit him with it.

But at sword range, while he was distracted?

The net wrapped around him like a glove. His shoulders sagged, ever-so-slightly. He was strong enough that the weight from the ring wouldn’t incapacitate him, not nearly, but it did slow him down.

Between that and the injury on his arm, he’d lost much of his speed advantage. In the next three moves, I intended to take the rest.

I stomped the ground. Throughout our exchange of swings, I’d noted our positions carefully, until I’d maneuvered him onto one of the rune-etched metal platforms. When my boot hit the ground, a wave of metal surged upward and wrapped around his legs, then solidified in place.

Crystal repulse.

Earlier, I’d been able to magnetically pull the crystal on his necklace away from him, but not enough to retrieve it. Reversing that same technique was simple, but this time I wasn’t focused on the necklace—

Diamantine had a crystal blade. By repelling it, I threw off his attempt at a hasty counterstroke. The emperor’s swing went wild, giving me a heartbeat to act.

Now.

I swung at his chest.

At the same time, Dawn did her part, employing one of my oldest techniques.

<Shift.>

Her mass shifted toward her blade, making my swing faster and harder. The emperor tried to react, but with all my techniques in place, even his overwhelming speed wasn’t enough. My sword crashed into his breastplate hard, but the armor did its job — I didn’t cut through it.

Fortunately, I wasn’t trying to.

My mind surged into the metal and issued a command:

Fall off.

His breastplate fell apart at the seams, exposing a gambeson-covered chest beneath. And, more importantly, the red-jeweled necklace that he’d tucked within it.

His off-hand flew up before I could make another swing. I knew what was coming.

Body of Iron.

He pointed at my ribs. I felt the spell take effect and ignored it entirely.

Dawn sliced through the chain on his necklace. My hand flew out—

“No.” The emperor flicked a finger toward me.

I knew he could do more than just break bones with a gesture. He’d hit me with bursts of force before.

I didn’t realize just how little effort he must have been putting into it. How dismissive he’d been, right up until that moment.

The force of the blast that followed threw me backward with such force that I crashed into the railing on the back of the ship — and went right through it, flying out into the open air.

In spite of the absurd speed and power of the attack, I reacted quickly, shifting Dawn’s blade into a chain and hurling her toward the ship. A phantasmal wall of green force appeared in mid-air and deflected her blade. A Shaper technique.

Akadi was learning to use the emperor’s attunements, and I was falling through the sky.

I’d been hurled backward too far to reach the ship with another shot at the chain. The arena island was even further away.

The ground? Further than the island, but not by as much as I would have liked. I was very, very high up, but not in the kind of way that gave me enough time to come up with complicated solutions.

I retracted Dawn’s blade immediately, reshaping it back into her usual form.

Any luck with regaining your ability to fly?

<I’m already trying, it isn’t working! Whatever got damaged needs more than just the metal to be fixed.>

I cursed. Even if she could fly, though, I doubted she could carry me. Slowing my descent was feasible, but the pieces we’d used to give her flight abilities were designed to carry a sword’s weight, not a person’s.

I shoved Dawn into her scabbard and touched a symbol on my belt. The Pale Crescent appeared and I snatched it out of the air.

Ten quick swings as I continued to fall, then I did something slightly absurd. I grabbed the chain connecting the Pale King’s regalia, reattached it to the Pale Crescent, and then spoke.

“Low Tide.”

I pointed the sword at myself.

The lingering crescents of energy shot downward from where I’d placed them, shooting toward my legs. They sliced into me as I descended, but didn’t injure me in the slightest. I’d gambled that even mostly drained of mana, the Pale King’s amulet would still protect me from the sword’s power if they were connected with the chain. The projectiles didn’t meaningfully slow my descent, but I hadn’t expected them to — I just needed them flying at me, rather than hanging in mid-air.

“Broken Tide!” The crescents froze as the technique to move them ceased, most still near my lower body. I swung as I fell past them.

Crescent Pull.

I slammed the Pale Crescent into one of its own projectiles. My arms jerked with incredible force as my sword stuck to the crescent, leaving me suspended in mid-air. I’d gambled on the same magnetic techniques that I’d been using on crystal being applicable to the blades of force used by the Pale Crescent and the weapon itself. That had worked perfectly, but I’d still almost lost the grip on my sword from the sheer force of arresting my own movement. If I’d had an ordinary body, I would have faced an even greater problem — ripping my arms out of their own sockets — but with my resilience, that wasn’t an issue.

…That didn’t leave me in a great place, though. Specifically, it left me hovering in mid-air, the Pale Crescent stuck to that floating crescent like some kind of strange umbrella. And while descending from the sky on an umbrella was a lovely image, this particular technique wasn’t letting me do that. I was simply holding myself in place, the crescent remaining in a static position.

Release Body of Iron.

I didn’t need it just to hold myself steady and I was burning through my essence fast. I needed a plan.

I wasn’t a great judge of distance, but it was a long way up to the island and still a long way to the ground. I probably could have survived falling that distance, but it would have taken me out of the fight. That wasn’t an acceptable outcome.

I reached out with my mind, trying to grab the crescents still lingering in the air and shift them toward me. It worked, but slowly. Shaping that type of essence was far from my area of expertise and I’d never been good at ranged shaping in general — I was much better at reshaping things I was in contact with.

Still, it was working. I was in the middle of forming the crescents into a platform below me with the intent of trying to slowly float it upward toward the airship when, to my dismay, the airship moved.

It broke away from the island in a heartbeat, then began to fly northward. Akadi was escaping with the emperor’s body and the longer he held it, the more he was acclimating to the emperor’s attunements. More time holding the emperor’s body meant it would be harder to separate them, too.

He’s…going to get away.

I scanned for the other airships that I’d once seen behind the island, but they were conspicuously missing. Perhaps Meilin had stolen one of them when she’d teleported to the airship dock. The other might have been stolen by someone else or used to evacuate some of the people in the area.

Without an airship, I couldn’t hope to catch up.

<You don’t have to, silly. Not by yourself. Look up and left.>

And there she was, one wing still badly injured from her fight with Alexander Theas, but apparently functional enough to fly.

Reika grinned as she descended next to me, “You look like you could use a ride.”

I sheathed my sword, groaned, and wrapped my arms around her.

Then together, we shot up through the sky.

***

The emperor must have sensed us coming. He turned as we approached, growling in dismay and slowly raising Diamantine.

He probably didn’t expect Reika to throw me at him, though.

His eyes widened as I soared toward him, one sword in each of my hands. Wielding two weapons at once was rarely my preference, but each sword offered a necessary advantage. As he blocked the Pale Crescent, the echo my swing left behind limited his angles to counterstrike. His attempt to cleave straight through the crescent ended just as I’d hoped — Diamantine’s mana types were too similar. His sword bounced right off it, leaving a brief opening.

I swept Dawn at his still-exposed right arm, but before the blade reached him, he closed his fist. A glowing green breastplate manifested around his chest, replacing the pieces of armor that Edria Song and I had dismantled. Dawn hit the breastplate and bounced off, leaving only the slightest crack. Beneath that translucent breastplate I could see my target — he was wearing the amulet again, with a conjured link of chain replacing the piece of metal that I’d cut through earlier.

My strike wasn’t perfect, but it did give Reika a perfect distraction to descend from the sky, using the momentum from beating her wings to launch her straight into a massive swing of her gauntleted fist. She smashed the emperor right in the jaw, sending him staggering back and drawing blood from his lip.

When he snarled and swung Diamantine in reprisal, I stepped in to parry. Reika smashed a fist into him again, this time trailing lightning from her gauntlets. Another crack in his conjured breastplate.

With a snarl, he pointed at Reika before we could react. She let out a hiss of pain, but dragon bones weren’t so easy to break. I slammed the Pale Crescent into his outstretched arm, driving it downward, and Reika exhaled an instantaneous blast of light from her jaws, sending him stumbling back. It was nowhere near as powerful as her normal breath attack, but I hadn’t known she could do it at all, and apparently neither had the emperor.

While he was off-balance, I pushed in, launching into a series of rapid swings with both blades. The emperor deflected each strike quickly, but my goal wasn’t to cut him. Every echo left behind by the Pale Crescent limited his movements further, and every few swings created a new opening for Reika to smash his breastplate with a fist or tail. As piece after piece of his conjured armor fell away, we readied for the decisive moment. The amulet was almost in reach.

Then, a moment later, the emperor wasn’t.

I cursed, spinning around to find him on the opposite side of the ship. He shook his head. “An excellent attempt. Your coordination should be commended. Alas,” he snapped his fingers, two dozen floating swords appearing above him, “your struggles end here.”

The weapons flashed forward faster than any Shaper constructs I’d seen before — and straight toward me. I readied to block, but there were too many, coming too fast.

I was a split-second from being pincushioned when Reika threw herself in the way, fists balled and wings outstretched to cover as much space as possible. My heart froze in the instant before the weapons impacted. Dawn screamed.

I saw an image of Reika pierced in a dozen places — but that never happened.

The swords impacted hard and bounced straight off her without leaving a scratch. Her right hand wasn’t just balled into a fist — she was holding the Density Diamond. While the diamond flared with power, Reika’s skin and scales were covered in a glistening reflective sheen.

For a few seconds, she was very nearly invincible. She didn’t waste them.

She surged across the ship, completely ignoring the conjured weapons smashing into her from all sides, mana forming into a ball around her fist. I ran after her, but I was exhausted and couldn’t match her speed.

The emperor lunged with Diamantine the moment she came into reach. Nearly invincible wasn’t invincible enough to stop it.

The sword went straight through Reika’s left shoulder. She screamed at the impact, but it didn’t stop her. She smashed her fist straight into the breastplate on his chest, shattering the fractured armor in one blow. As she withdrew her hand, she dropped the Density Diamond and grabbed the amulet, ripping it straight off his neck.

“Got you,” she whispered.

Then the emperor tore his sword back out of her shoulder.

Reika screamed again, the amulet falling from limp fingers. Edria Fang slammed Diamantine’s pommel into her forehead, sending her stumbling backward.

I was almost in reach of them. Almost, but not quite.

As the emperor reached down for the amulet, I reached for it differently.

Magnetic pull.

The amulet shot toward me. Unfortunately, it wasn’t alone. A rain of conjured swords came down from the sky at the emperor’s command — dozens, then hundreds.

<Body of Dawn!>

It was a risk, burning through the little mana Dawn had remaining, but there was no other chance. I shot forward in a blur, sheathing the Pale Crescent and grabbing the amulet.

The emperor appeared right in front of me. Hundreds of conjured weapons crashed down behind me, blocking any route of retreat.

And as he pulled back his sword to strike, Dawn’s mana ran out.

In the moment when the technique ended and the world sped up, I was off balance. I managed a parry, but I couldn’t react quickly enough when his other hand pointed at my left wrist.

Even without any body techniques active, my bones didn’t break, but the immense surge of pain forced me to lose my grip. Dawn tumbled from limp fingers.

I was unarmed when he attacked again, agony surging through my body. Reika was moving in the distance, but not fast enough to help. So, when Diamantine thrust toward my heart, I acted on instinct.

I dropped the amulet.

Body of Iron: Iron Grip.

Metal mana flooded into my right hand as I used Grandmother Iron’s specialized version of the technique, pumping everything I had into a single part of my body.

Diamantine froze with the tip against my chest, drawing a single drop of blood. I’d grabbed the sword by the blade.

The emperor yanked backward. The sword didn’t budge in the slightest. With a growl, he snapped his fingers. Conjured swords appeared in the air surrounding me, then shot inward. They were too close to dodge, but not too close for me to think.

Diamantine, by my will, I bind my spirit to yours.

When Dawnbringer and I had forged our bond, we’d exchanged ceremonial vows. I’d been told that each of the Six Sacred Swords required different words, different procedures, in order to establish such a bond. Presumably, only the Edrian royal family knew the proper way to bond with Diamantine.

But here’s the thing — that bonding rite is a part of how the sword’s magic works. A property of the item. And if I hold any sword long enough, well, I get a hint of their techniques.

I couldn’t figure out how Diamantine’s bonding rite worked from a single moment of contact, but I didn’t have to. I used Dawn’s, fueled by my own power and our connection.

A flare of green light ripped across the airship as a new mark appeared on my hand.

Conjured swords slammed into me in the next instant, hundreds at once. Each and every one shattered like glass.

The emperor’s grip on Diamantine trembled. My own grip was stronger than ever, the flood of power from my newly-forged bond strengthening me beyond what even Body of Iron gave me on its own.

I smiled at him. “Drop the sword. Release the emperor.”

He raised his free hand, snarling. “You’re a fool. You’ve lost. It doesn’t matter if you’ve managed another bond. You’re unarmed, and you’re nothing without your swords.”

I stared straight into his eyes, my grip tightening further. “You’ve missed something critical.”

“What would that be?” His face twitched, showing the faintest hint of doubt.

I flexed the fingers on my free hand, the pain in my wrist fading as Diamantine’s power flooded through me. “I am my last sword.”

My fingers swept up, annihilating power wrapping around them.

When I lowered them, the emperor’s right wrist was separated from the rest of his arm.

He stumbled back, gasping at the stump where his arm ended, gripping at the bleeding wound with his remaining hand.

I clicked my heels together. The Planelock Boots weren’t going to be enough on their own, but I flooded them with enhancement mana — both my own and a new supply, pulled straight from Diamantine.

When the emperor snapped the fingers on his remaining hand in an effort to teleport, nothing happened.

Finally.

I shook Diamantine, dislodging the severed hand from it, then flipped it around to grip the hilt. With my other hand, a burst of magnetism pulled Dawn back into my grip. “This is the end.”

The emperor spun around, presumably to run, but he didn’t make it far.

Reika had tossed aside her right gauntlet as she approached, then pressed a ring on her finger. The secret prize she’d taken from Alexander Theas in their bet.

Wraith Cutter appeared in her hands. Without hesitation, she jammed the glaive into the emperor’s shoulder.

He fell to his knees, letting out a soundless scream as inky blackness surged out of his throat and into the air.

I reacted immediately, leaping into the air and swinging Dawn through the shadows, tearing through the escaping shade like paper. A few more swings obliterated the last of the escaping essence, then the emperor’s body collapsed senselessly to the ground.

“It’s…finally over.” Reika slumped against the glaive, leaning heavily against it.

“Not quite yet.” I shook my head, then went to where I’d dropped the amulet. I released my Body of Iron, feeling a tingling in my hand and the absolute exhaustion that came from burning through too much essence in a short period of time. Reika followed closely behind me. “Think Wraith Cutter would work on that thing?”

“Only one way to find out.” She poked it with the tip of the glaive. Shadows surged free from the amulet, but I was ready. A rapid series of cuts obliterated every last wisp of shadow before they could escape.

I exhaled heavily. “Now, I think, it’s finally—”

“Look out!” Reika yelled, shoving me to the side.

A golden spear flashed through the air where I’d been standing. Instead of impaling me, it tore a bloody hole through Reika’s right arm. Wraith Cutter tumbled to the ground, and I spun toward our attacker.

A man in golden armor had appeared above the opposite side of the ship. He stood in mid-air with regal bearing and a face that might have struck me as beautiful if it didn’t hold an expression of absolute scorn. His skin was a mottled grey and white, like he’d been carved from a pillar of marble. He was huge, at least two or three feet taller than I was. This, along with his muscular physique and the visible aura of crackling mana around him, combined to give the impression that I was looking at an artist’s rendering of a wicked god.

In his right hand, he held a colossal scythe with a jagged blade of rune-etched bone. Behind him was a still-shimmering tear in space with only darkness beyond. I’d never seen his true face before, but I knew him even before he spoke.

“Go, my children.” Akadi raised his scythe and pointed in our direction. “Go and feed.”

A thousand voices screamed from beyond the portal—

And then the shadows came.

CHAPTER XXXII – WEAPONS & WIELDERS

Shades swarmed across the ship, dozens of them flooding into our world by the moment. I attacked immediately, sending crescents of light from Dawn’s blade, but the attacks were anemic. Her blade barely had enough mana left to glow.

Fortunately, my new blade was in better shape. I flicked Diamantine toward the ground. “Weight of the World.”

Crushing pressure slammed the onrushing shades into the ground…but that only affected the ones that were already on the ship.

And Akadi simply stood on the opposite end, back to the portal, watching me without the slightest indication that he’d felt the effects of Diamantine’s power.

Did he develop a resistance when he stole Emperor Fang’s body? Or…is he just too powerful for Diamantine’s technique to affect him?

I didn’t have much time to ponder. More shades were rushing across the ship as the first set struggled to rise. I might have managed to use Weight of the World again, but that would have only delayed the problem.

Diamantine was a great asset against ordinary attacks, but I knew that the claws of those shades tore straight through physical defenses. If Diamantine operated the way I expected — using density mana for something akin to one of my body enhancement techniques — it wouldn’t help me in the slightest.

Reika was in no shape to help. She’d collapsed to a knee, cradling her injured arm.

So, I switched swords.

A flick of my wrist sent Diamantine into the air. I drew the Pale Crescent and activated it in a single motion. “Ebb and Flow!”

Crescent echoes flashed from across the ship, tearing through shades to reach their target. As I expected, the crescents glanced harmlessly off Akadi’s golden armor, but they were an effective distraction and their constant movement helped to slow down the oncoming shades.

I re-sheathed the Pale Crescent and caught Diamantine as it fell, ducking and swinging the blade into the ground. As I hoped, the wooden deck of the ship was petrified where I cut.

Wall.

A wall of stone shot up where I’d sliced the ground and spread rapidly to block the approaching shades. With a wave of my hand, I spread a section of the wall over the emperor’s fallen body, hoping it would keep him safe from any collateral damage during the following fight.

While the shades weren’t entirely physical entities, they were solid enough that they couldn’t pass straight through the wall. They were, however, smart enough to climb over it. I’d only bought a few moments, but they were enough for my goal.

I spun toward Reika, dropping Diamantine to grab the healing potion from my bag and shove it in her direction. She winced and grabbed it, her eyes widening before she could take a drink. “Look out!”

The first shades crested over the wall toward me, dozens of them jumping toward us at once. I raised my sword and prepared to meet the charge, but there were simply too many for me to stop on my own.

<No!>

Dawn flared brighter for just a moment, a pale imitation of Golden Dawn. The shades cringed back from her momentary brightness, but the light faded as quickly as it came. She’d pulled the remaining mana out of my Ring of Spell Deflection to buy me an instant. I used it. I rushed into the stunned shades, magnetically pulling Diamantine into my other hand.

Blade of Annihilation.

My aura spread across Dawn and Diamantine’s blades. I didn’t know if my bond with Diamantine would protect the sword in the same way that Dawn seemed to be resistant to it, but I didn’t have time to debate.

As Reika downed the potion, I slashed through the nearest shades, my annihilation-wrapped blades cutting through them with ease.

<Down!>

I hit the deck just as a golden javelin exploded through my stone wall, puncturing the air where I’d been standing. More shades swarmed through the gap in the wall and others were still climbing over it.

I rolled to my feet in front of Reika, swung both swords straight through the nearest shade, then danced back as another shade leapt at me from the opposite side.

Two more rushed me while I was off-balance. One of them was clipped by a returning echo from the Pale Crescent and staggered backward, but the other came in for a lunge. I jammed Dawn straight through it and then kicked it backward, sending a chill through my leg during the brief moment of contact.

A quick sweep eliminated another shade, but more were coming faster than I could cleave through them. With each passing moment, my exhaustion was growing. I heard one lunging from behind me, but I reacted too slowly. I spun just in time for an empty bottle to smash into the shade’s face.

“All done!” Reika grinned at the shade, then opened her jaws wide. A beam of light flashed out of her jaws, then as she moved, ripped through an entire line of onrushing shades.

How is she doing that so much faster? The new attunement?

I didn’t have a chance to ask.

Reika’s wounds still weren’t close to healed, but the potion had dulled her pain enough to get her moving. She pressed her ring, causing Wraith Cutter to vanish from the ground, then beat her wings and took off into the air.

It was a good move, in some respects — it took her out of the reach of the next wave of swarming shades that were pouring through the gap in my wall. Unfortunately, it also drew Akadi’s attention.

His head tilted up toward her, an amused expression on his face. “A dragon. It’s been some time since I’ve seen one of your kind.”

“You’ve seen one of us before?” Reika maneuvered to the side of the ship. She was clearly planning something, but I couldn’t worry about that. She’d cleared a wave of the shades, but more were coming fast. I swept my blades toward the gap in the wall, sending cutting waves to tear through the nearest targets, but new ones replaced the fallen almost immediately.

“Oh, I’ve had a few encounters with your kind. I thought we’d wiped you all out during our last visit.” Akadi lifted his scythe, gingerly running a finger across the blade as he smiled at Reika. “What do you think I made this out of?”

He probably expected Reika to scream and charge, but she didn’t. She just shook her head sadly at him. “Was gonna wreck you either way, you don’t need to give me more reasons. Just be patient.”

In a burst of mist, she changed into her full-sized dragon form and immediately inhaled. White smoke poured out of her jaws.

Akadi casually flicked a finger in her direction. Reika shuddered in the air, but continued to gather power for her breath.

When that failed, he seemed to take her more seriously. He lifted his finger upward, conjuring massive spears of bone the size of ballista bolts that floated above him.

Need to buy her time.

It was easier said than done. The flood of shades hadn’t slowed in the slightest, and though she’d bought me a moment of safety with her initial breath attack, it hadn’t lasted.

Akadi was still floating above the opposite end of the ship. He must have realized the threat that my annihilation abilities represented, so he was staying as far away from me as possible.

Again, my mind raced to the Sae’kes.

<No, other sword!>

She was right. I’d almost forgotten about it — one final command for the Pale Crescent. The cost would render it nearly useless, but in a situation like this…

I hurled Diamantine through a shade, pinning it to the stone wall, and drew the Pale Crescent.

I pulled the sword back and spoke the command.

“Harvest Moon.”

A massive crimson circle flared to life around me, raw chaos mana tearing the air apart. Sparks flew as the ring began to rotate in place, cutting through the onrushing shades like a blazing saw.

Akadi spun toward me in surprise, just as I hoped he would. He reacted just in time for me to launch the spinning wheel of scarlet force in his direction.

The Pale Crescent’s final technique ripped through the oncoming tide of shades with ease, cutting across the ship toward its true target.

Akadi flicked his hand toward the ring, his bone spears flying to intercept it. The attacks met in mid-air with a grinding sound as the spinning ring tore through the spears, sending splinters of bone flying in all directions. Akadi’s eyes widened as the attack flew through his own and approached him, but only for an instant.

“Enough!” Akadi swept his scythe downward. The ring of chaos snapped on impact, then fell apart, spreading out like dust across the deck of the ship.

“Chaos magic. Please. You’re not the only one who can—”

Reika exhaled. A blast of pure white emerged from the dragon’s jaws and enveloped the entire rear of the ship. For an instant, Akadi was completely encompassed by the blast.

It was the type of thing where someone might have said “no one could have survived that”, but this wasn’t my first fight with an overwhelmingly powerful opponent. I sheathed the Pale Crescent and swung Dawn hard, sending a crescent of annihilating light toward where Akadi had been standing and hoped that it would hit him while he was still blinded by Reika’s blast. It might have cut through his defenses if it had struck, but it never made contact.

I was unsurprised when the light from Reika’s breath cleared and Akadi wasn’t there. I turned to see if he’d teleported behind me, but he’d chosen a different opponent.

Reika reacted quickly, too, but she was a big target. She flapped her wings and spun to find Akadi floating in mid-air behind her, his golden armor smoking and his face badly burned from the brief moments where he’d been enveloped by her breath before he teleported. She reacted in what ordinarily might have been the best defensive move possible. She turned into a cloud of mist.

But Akadi was a creature of spirit and shade, and his weapon — a foul thing wrought from a dragon’s bone, just as he’d claimed — cut souls as easily as skin. His scythe came down and swept through the mist, leaving a trail of crimson in the air.

Reika resolidified a moment later in her humanoid form, gasping for air and gripping at a long wound across her chest. As Akadi pulled back to swing again, she beat her wings and shot backward, opening her jaws again.

The brief blast of light that emerged wasn’t anything like what she’d managed in her full-sized state. Akadi disdainfully raised his off-hand, palm forward, and simply blocked the beam with a single hand.

I rushed across the ship while they dueled, grabbing Diamantine from the wall and hacking my way through the onrushing shades with desperate speed. Between my Harvest Moon and Reika’s breath, we’d cleared most of the ones on the deck, but they were still pouring through the portal — for another second.

I swung both swords, an x-shaped wave of annihilating force cutting across the deck toward the portal. I’d ripped portals like that to shreds before — my attack should have cleaved right through it. I knew Akadi might try to block the attack, but I didn’t think he’d be able to raise a powerful enough barrier in time.

He didn’t.

He waved a free hand disdainfully and the portal moved, shifting just out of the trajectory of my strike.

I didn’t have time to repeat the process — the shades were all around me in the next moment. Individually, they weren’t significant threats, but they were deceptively fast, and I had no real defense against their claws. If they managed to get on top of me, I wouldn’t last long.

So, I fought to keep the shades at bay, cutting and weaving while I searched for another window of opportunity to attack the portal. If I could get into reach, Akadi wouldn’t be able to move it quickly enough to prevent me from tearing it asunder, but the shades were emerging too quickly for me to make meaningful progress.

I was running out of options faster than Akadi was running out of shades, and I wasn’t the one in the worst position.

Reika desperately retreated through the air, hurling blasts of flames with both hands and opening her jaws to exhale brief blasts of light. None of it even touched him. Without the time to properly prepare a larger attack, she couldn’t break through his defensive magic and the enchantments on his armor.

When he closed in with the scythe, she pressed her ring, conjuring Wraith Cutter and blocking his swing. For a moment, they dueled in the air, both using the extreme reach of their weapons to keep each other at a distance.

Akadi didn’t have quite the extreme speed that Emperor Fang had possessed, but he was fighting with his true body and a weapon he’d trained with for thousands of years. His movements were practiced, perfected. Reika had used Wraith Cutter…once, to attack a surprised opponent. She was terribly injured, trying to use a two-handed weapon with only one good arm.

She didn’t have a chance on her own.

…And I didn’t have a chance to help her.

Akadi snapped his fingers. A second portal appeared on the ship, then a third. More shades didn’t pour out of them instantly, but I knew the tide would come in moments.

There’s no way to win this without hitting Akadi directly, but my crescents are too slow. He’d just fly or teleport out of the way, and there’s a good chance I’d end up hitting Reika if I try to launch a volley of attacks at him rapidly.

If Dawn had enough mana for a Luminous Arc, that might have been fast enough to hit him, but I doubted it would stop him…and I’d already bled her dry. My own flagging light mana wasn’t anywhere near enough to recharge her. I didn’t even think I could manage to give her enough for one spell.

I managed to sweep around and launch a crescent of annihilation through one of the two new portals before he moved it, causing it to collapse in a sputter of sparks, but the victory was short-lived. He conjured a replacement with another snap of his fingers, and by that point, the other new portal was fully-functional.

Reika surged in to take advantage of my momentary distraction, but Akadi deflected her lunge with ease and countered, landing another glancing cut across her face. She shot backward again with a hiss, deflecting his follow-up, but her strength was flagging.

With two portals active and a third nearly there, I was rapidly getting overwhelmed. The shades were pouring through faster than I could cut them down, forcing me back to the stone wall. I put my back in the doorway, using my reach and the narrow entry to try to fight more defensively, but it was a losing prospect. The excess shades simply began to climb over the wall, and I still couldn’t fight them faster than they were appearing.

Not with those weapons, anyway.

The Dominion Breaker had ready-made solutions to both of my problems.

If I used the Essence Breaker technique on a shade, I could detonate it and cause a chain reaction, destroying all of the nearby shades. If I was lucky, it would destroy the portals, too.

And as for Akadi…

There was a technique I’d only managed to use in combat once before. If I had several seconds to compress the Dominion Breaker’s essence, then released it all at once, I could unleash a devastating attack that was nearly instant. Even Sterling, one of the Children of the Tyrant in Gold, hadn’t been fast enough to do anything about it.

But there was a reason I didn’t use it often. Compressing that much of the Dominion Breaker’s essence took time. Even with my improved mastery of the weapon, it would likely take at least a few seconds — which was a lifetime in a fight at the speed the shades were attacking me.

I’d have to use the Essence Breaker first and obliterate the shades.

<…If you use that technique, you’ll destroy the ship.>

I know.

I cut through the closest shades, hearing new ones landing as they dropped from the wall down behind me. I spun and charged through the newcomers while they were off-balance from landing, retreating to the far end of the ship, directly opposite from the three portals. When I reached the edge of the ship, I turned toward the onrushing shades and prepared to make my last stand.

<You’ll kill the emperor if you destroy the ship.>

I know.

I cleaved through more onrushing shades. With my back no longer exposed, they had fewer angles of attack, but I couldn’t hold them at bay forever.

…And Reika’s strength was rapidly fading. Her wings were beating slower now as blood flowed from her wounds. Most of her magical items had been drained in her fight with Alexander Theas and hadn’t recharged. She was out of options.

And I was pretty sure I was, too.

<You’ll tear your scabbard apart. And…you might kill Reika, too.>

If it wasn’t for that final argument, I might have still done it.

Dawn was right. Detonating that many shades…the blast would be titanic and too fast for Reika to outpace, especially in her wounded state.

But without it, I had nothing.

The Pale Crescent was back to its weakest state, drained by the use of Harvest Moon. Dawn was out of mana. I was injured and nearly out of mana, too.

Aside from Reika’s breath, we hadn’t hurt Akadi in the slightest, and he didn’t show even a hint of exhaustion. With Reika as badly injured and exhausted as she was, I doubted she could manage another breath attack on that scale even if Akadi was distracted — and I couldn’t have distracted him for long enough to Reika to make that kind of attack even if I wanted to.

I couldn’t help her. I couldn’t win this fight, not without terrible consequences. But maybe…

Maybe I didn’t need to.

Dawn had been right from the start. Time and time again, I’d broken and failed because of one key factor — I’d tried to solve everything on my own.

Dawn, I need your help.

<You…need my help?>

The plan came to me all at once, which was good, because I needed to act immediately.

I swept Diamantine down. “Weight of the World.”

Oppressive force smashed the small army of shades down into the ship. I cleaved into the deck with Diamantine, repeating the same process I’d used earlier to raise a wall — this time surrounding only the furthermost edge of the ship. More shades were coming, but they’d be slowed by both climbing over their fallen brethren and the wall.

It would buy time, but not to draw the Dominion Breaker and compress the essence within it. That had never been a perfect plan — even if I’d managed it, I very likely would have hit Reika with the same attack and killed her in the process.

No, I had something very different in mind.

I pressed the two sacred swords in my hands together and, for the first time, they met not in opposition, but in unity.

As I concentrated, Diamantine’s enhancement mana flowed into Dawn. I closed my eyes and concentrated, lending her what little mana I had remaining.

She knew my thoughts and understood my plan. I felt her desperation, her hope, mingling with my own.

With every bit of mana we had left, we unleashed a combined technique — one that we all shared.

<Sense Sacred Sword.>

There was a flare in my mind as I sensed the locations of the other weapons more clearly than ever before. For Dawn, the user of the technique, it must have been even stronger — overwhelming.

But she caught the thread of that connection and held it, focusing on one distant blade surrounded by three motes of power that felt very much like her own. And then, Dawn did what she did best:

<If you don’t show up right now, we’re going to beat Akadi without you.>

Thunder split the air as Ishyeal Dawnsglow appeared next to me, standing so close that we could barely fit inside the wall I’d created.

And he wasn’t alone.

She stood at his side, the woman wreathed in flame. She was standing on her own now, steady and confident, wearing a crimson dress and carrying a burning shortsword in either hand. I could feel the warmth emanating from her, but it didn’t burn me.

She wore the warmth that a hearth returned to frozen fingers, burning with an illumination that brought light to a starless night.

Ishyeal’s eyes narrowed as he processed Diamantine crossed with Dawn in my hands, but he turned away immediately, his gaze shifting skyward toward where Akadi and Reika continued their airborne duel.

“Handle the ship. Akadi is mine.” Then he vanished, leaving the burning maiden at my side.

“You’re…Soulbrand, aren’t you?”

Her crimson eyes locked on mine. “I…don’t know what I am. But right now, I know that people need my help. Come with me if you’re strong enough.”

With that, she turned away from me and walked straight through the stone wall I’d raised. Soulbrand’s avatar wasn’t incorporeal — she was as solid as I was. So, she didn’t pass through the wall like a ghost. When her body touched the stone, she melted through it. In an instant, she was in the crowd of shades and swinging, blazing blades parting shadows with enviable ease.

I rushed through the wall to follow her.

<Wow. Five seconds together and she already knows how to push your buttons. I’d be jealous if I wasn’t so impressed.>

Good work, Dawn. You were right. This is better.

<…Thanks. But we’re not done yet.>

Soulbrand’s avatar fought with fluidity and a dancer’s grace, each sweep of her twin blades sending a cascade of flame into a crowd of shades. I followed close behind her, forced into the position of covering her back while she cleaved through the crowd. With my remaining strength, there was little else I could do — at least until we reached our targets. The portals. If we could reach them, I could close them and we could assist with the real fight: the one happening in the skies.

Ishyeal’s sudden appearance had changed the dynamics of the fight in the air. He attacked Akadi immediately and relentlessly, swinging the still-damaged Soulbrand with all three of Dawn’s amulets glowing brightly around his neck.

For a moment, it seemed that Akadi was overwhelmed by fighting two opponents at once — and then he laughed, sweeping a hand in Reika’s direction. She let out a gasp as a burst of force slammed into her, hurling her through the air to crash in the middle of the ship.

The shades were on her in an instant.

I shifted to rush toward her, but Soulbrand was faster. The blazing maiden pressed her shortswords together above her head. “Crimson Sign!”

Her skin ignited with newborn flames, her hair erupting upward into a volcanic frenzy. The heat that boiled out from around her was so intense that I was forced to step back and shut my eyes to avoid being blinded.

She swung in the next moment, a molten sphere searing across the ship in an instant. It didn’t touch the wood, but nevertheless, the ship began to burn.

So did the shades. Even the slightest touch from that sphere set them ablaze, the flames spreading across their bodies in an instant — and then spreading to any shades they touched.

In a heartbeat, only ashes remained of the monsters that had surrounded Reika.

…But the damage had been done. She curled up on the ground, her body riddled with cuts and blackened spots where the shades had touched her.

I rushed toward her.

<No. The portals. You need to close them, now.>

But—

<It’s what she’d want.>

I screamed, rushing past Reika and into the surviving shades beyond the area of Soulbrand’s attack. Soulbrand’s avatar was right behind me, but her shoulders were sagging and the flames on her skin had died down. She’d clearly exhausted herself by using such a potent attack.

As we rushed the portals, Ishyeal flickered through the air, vanishing and reappearing behind Akadi again and again, so quickly that he seemed to leave afterimages behind him. His attacks were quick and deliberate, but showed his exhaustion and the consequences of his injuries. Like me, he’d been significantly drained from our fight…and he hadn’t had the benefit of healers afterward.

Ishyeal flickered backward, pulling back his sword and speaking. “Vermil—”

Akadi teleported an inch from Ishyeal and flicked a finger into his chest.

Ishyeal flew backward, the flames around Soulbrand dying in an instant. He coughed blood, gripping at his chest. Akadi reappeared right behind him. “I can play this way, too.”

Akadi raised his scythe. Ishyeal was still doubled over coughing.

Soulbrand’s avatar shouted, “No!” and swung both her blades toward Akadi, projecting a pair of crescents of flame that looked remarkably like she’d been copying my own techniques. Akadi hissed and turned, raising a wall of golden essence in mid-air to block the attack.

In that moment, Ishyeal vanished again, reappearing further away. He reached for a bottle on his belt.

Akadi pointed. The bottle exploded.

While Akadi vanished and reengaged Ishyeal, I swung Dawn and Diamantine toward the portals. Akadi still tried to react to move them, but I’d pushed much closer to them this time. I cut two portals before he could move them, and when Akadi shifted the third, Ishyeal resumed his own attack by waving a hand and conjuring a burst of light straight in Akadi’s eyes.

Akadi hissed and flew backward. He wasn’t blinded for long, but he didn’t need to be — it gave me the moment necessary to cut through the last portal.

The last of the shades swarmed us. Soulbrand’s avatar and I glanced at each other, and in a moment of perfect understanding, we moved to fight back-to-back.

Ishyeal lunged while Akadi was still blinded, but Akadi beat Soulbrand aside with ease. With a snap of his fingers, a dozen golden spears appeared above him, flashing toward Ishyeal. Ishyeal cut two down before vanishing and reappearing above Akadi, plunging straight downward.

Akadi flipped to face upward and laughed, flicking a finger and hurling a blast of force that launched Ishyeal upward, then reappearing above him and driving an elbow into his back.

Ishyeal coughed again as the blow cracked into him, then quickly vanished.

He didn’t reappear again immediately this time — not until a few seconds later, when he was wiping his lips and tossing aside an empty glass vial.

He raised Soulbrand to his shoulder and took a defensive stance.

Akadi shook his head disdainfully. “How many times have we danced this dance, messenger? What makes you think it will end any differently this time? This isn’t even your best performance.”

Akadi shot forward in a sudden burst of momentum, raising his scythe for a massive two-handed swing.

“It might not be,” Ishyeal vanished, avoiding the swing by inches, then reappeared just a few feet back. “But it’s not a one-man show.”

The gold-armored man turned just in time for the Green Guardian’s gauntleted fist to smash into his face.

“Akadi.” The Green Guardian grabbed the momentarily stunned Akadi by the arms. Crystals spread rapidly across Akadi’s armor, seemingly holding him in place. “You have been judged guilty.”

Then Ishyeal ran Soulbrand through Akadi’s back.

The sword pierced through armor and body with ease, the tip of it sliding all the way through the opposite side of Akadi’s chest.

The golden-armored man turned his head downward, looking at the sword piercing through him with a combination of shock and disbelief. Then, trembling, Akadi turned his head toward the Green Guardian and scowled. “Who are you to dare judge a ki—”

His word was cut off abruptly when Ishyeal pulled Soulbrand upward, cutting the upper part of Akadi’s body in half.

The Green Guardian turned his head toward Ishyeal. I wasn’t sure how a helmet could show disapproval, but somehow, he managed it.

Ishyeal shrugged at him. “If I’d let him talk, he might have teleported away. Sorry, not sorry.”

There was a brief pause, then the Green Guardian nodded. “Perhaps it was for the best.”

I felt no joy at Akadi’s death. While Soulbrand’s avatar and I cut through the remainder of the shades, Reika remained unmoving on the ground.

The moment we’d cleared the last of the shades, I rushed toward her, falling to my knees at her side.

<Rei…please…>

I put a hand to her neck, feeling for a pulse. I didn’t find one.

<She…she’s a dragon. Even if this body is…>

The shades hurt spirits, too. And the scythe…that seemed to harm her spirit as well. I…don’t know if her other body is in any better shape.

Ishyeal Dawnsglow appeared next to me. “We have unfinished business.”

I turned up to glare at him. “Unfinished business? You have the nerve to—”

Then I saw that he was extending his hand toward me…with a glass vial in it. “I owe you a healing potion.”

I took only an instant to gawk before grabbing it out of his hands, unstoppering it, and pouring it down her throat.

Please. Please…

Ishyeal knelt down next to us. “These wounds. She’s vek tainted.”

I turned my head to him again. “Don’t you dare hurt her. She’s—”

“Not my point. The thing you did with your friend…the one who died. It almost worked. Can you do it again?”

Dawn and I didn’t have the mana for that, but this time, I had another option. I sheathed Diamantine and passed Dawn to my off-hand. Then, gently, I reached out and pressed the ring on Reika’s hand. Wraith Cutter appeared.

Ishyeal raised an eyebrow as I caught the glaive.

I glanced at Ishyeal. “We used it on the emperor and the crystal. It worked. Give me a moment.”

He nodded, his expression showing only a bit of skepticism. “I’ll see if I can put out the fires.”

I had barely noticed the flames spreading across the deck of the ship.

“Sorry, Rei. This…might hurt, if you can still feel anything at all.” Carefully, I pressed Wraith Cutter against one of her wounds. The effect was immediate — smoke poured out of the injury.

I cut. The smoke was torn to shreds.

I repeated the process…again and again. Until finally, when the last of the smoke fled her body, Reika took a breath.

Her eyes fluttered open. “K…Keras?”

I exhaled the longest breath I can ever remember holding. Fortunately, I wasn’t a dragon. “…Hey.”

“…Hey.” Reika gave me a weak smile. “Did we win?”

I pressed my forehead against Reika’s. “…I think we did.”

For a moment, I just held her there.

<You should kiss now.>

I paused at the sound of Dawn’s voice.

Reika snorted. Apparently, she’d heard it too.

Our eyes met.

…And then we laughed together.

“Yeah, not kissing anyone right now,” Reika shook her head. “My mouth tastes like blood and there are people watching.”

I looked up. There were, in fact, people watching.

The Green Guardian, Ishyeal, and Soulbrand’s avatar stood surrounding us.

“Why wouldn’t you want people to watch?” Soulbrand’s avatar asked, drawing a hard look from Ishyeal. “What? Is that bad, somehow? What is kissing, anyway?”

Huh.

…I may let Ishyeal answer this one.

CHAPTER XXXIII – TRAILS ACROSS THE SKY

I sat with Reika’s head in my lap for a while, feeding her a second healing potion that Ishyeal was grudgingly willing to part with. He downed one himself, then went to make use of his last bottle.

The Green Guardian reshaped the stone that I’d put over Emperor Fang’s fallen form, then watched as Ishyeal poured the healing potion down the emperor’s throat. Given that he didn’t have a visible face, I couldn’t exactly read the Green Guardian’s expression, but I didn’t think he was thrilled about helping.

“Is he going to survive?” I asked.

Ishyeal shook his head. “Too soon to say. I don’t sense any vek taint, at least. That weapon…” He gave Wraith Cutter an appraising look. “…is how you freed him?”

I nodded slowly. “Yes. It expelled the shade from him, which I destroyed immediately thereafter.”

“…Interesting.” He stood up, still looking at the weapon with an appraising gaze. “Could be useful.”

I immediately snapped back to alertness, my hand drifting slowly back to my waist. Soulbrand’s avatar stepped between us, putting up her hands. She must have seen my expression. “Please, don’t. He means no harm.”

I exhaled a breath, then slowly moved my head back to resting it on Reika’s forehead. “Sorry. Just a little…tense. Today has been an eventful day.”

She gave me a sad smile. “I understand.” Then she plopped down on the ground just in front of Reika. “Been a busy day for me, too. Got arms and legs now, see?”

I couldn’t help but smile at that. “You look like you’ve made good use of them.”

“I’m learning fast!” She beamed at me. “I hope I was helpful.”

“Very much so. Thank you…Akari, is it?”

She blinked. “I…uh, guess?” She shook her head. “It’s a pretty name, but…I don’t think I have one.”

“Then what were you—” I froze, processing. “You weren’t telling me your name. You were trying to say something about Akadi, or Ari, or both.”

“Words…are hard.” She reached up to rub at her neck. “Tried talking too fast. Think…the magic you broke hasn’t totally worn off.”

“Then…when you were reaching out…” I reached into my pouch, retrieving the crimson gem. “You weren’t reaching toward me, were you? You were reaching for this.”

Soulbrand’s avatar gasped. “That’s it! I felt it when I first broke free. The spirits in there…”

“Wait. Is Akadi still in there?”

Everyone turned at that, looking alarmed.

“No, no!” She put her hands up. “A girl spirit, sleeping. And someone else. A boy. Thought it was Akadi when I first felt his mind, but I got the impression his name was…”

“Ari.” Reika gasped, reaching out for the crystal with her good hand. “He’s in there?”

“If there’s any fragment of your friend left, it wouldn’t be the same as a person.” Ishyeal shook his head sadly. “Ari died. You should make your peace with that.”

“I know, but if there’s even a little bit of him in there…” Reika’s expression sank. “We have to do something for him. How did this happen?”

Ishyeal looked at the crystal with a contemplative expression. “When Akadi used that crystal to take your friend’s body, most of his spirit was probably destroyed or sent on to the spirit plane — but some of it must have gotten trapped inside the crystal instead.”

That…made a lot of sense. It was very similar to how the Sae’kes bled power into my body. Or, perhaps more like how I was bonded to Dawn. It could have been purely accidental, or perhaps Vendria’s spirit inside the crystal had intervened somehow. Either way, if even a part of Ari was in there…I agreed with Reika. “What can we do to help him?”

“Might have been able to if you hadn’t destroyed the spirit-healing runes on my sword,” Ishyeal glowered at me. “Nice work, there.”

“I was trying to break the silencing parts. You know, because you didn’t believe that she,” I jerked a thumb at Soulbrand’s avatar, “even existed.”

“Cut it out, both of you!” Soulbrand’s avatar held out her hands toward both of us. She turned to Ishyeal. “I’m not happy about my vessel being broken like that, either. It’s not ideal. But I am much happier to be free than to be stuck in there, voiceless and alone.”

“Thank you.” I nodded to her. “I’m glad to be of service.”

She spun to me. “And you, Mister. I’m grateful for what you did. Supremely grateful. But next time, maybe mind the collateral damage better? You hurt my wielder badly, and I am not happy about that.”

I…didn’t know what to say about that. “I’m…sorry?”

“Say it to him.” She jerked a finger at Ishyeal.

I sighed. “Fine, fine. I’m sorry that I made your sword explode and almost killed you.”

She folded her arms and nodded. “Good. You too, Ishy.”

…Ishy?

His face twitched. “I’m…sorry, too. I should have listened to you about the swords being sentient, no matter how absurdly unlikely it seemed.”

That seemed like a bit of a non-apology. Still, Soulbrand’s avatar seemed happy.

“Good. You can be friends now.”

“…Not so sure about that.” Ishyeal turned away, looking toward the ground. At first, I thought he was just giving me the cold shoulder, but then he dropped down to look at something on the ground. I wasn’t at a great angle, so I had to shift to see what he was looking at.

The crystal-inlaid amulet the emperor had been carrying. It had fallen during the battle and was still lying on the deck of the ship. “This is what possessed him, isn’t it?”

“It is,” I confirmed. “I used the Wraith Cutter on that as well.”

“Hm.” He shook his head. “It’s still tainted. Don’t touch it.”

I blinked. “But I saw—”

“You expelled some of the shade, yes. But it seems that weapon has limits.” He raised a hand over the gem, sending a pulse of light into it, then groaned. “Hm.”

“What’s that mean?”

“It’s a filler sound, it doesn’t mean anything on its own. It implies I’m thinking.”

I shut my eyes. The last thing I needed right then was snide semantics. “What are you thinking about?”

“About if we should try to put it back together with the other one.” He waved toward me. “Once I finish purifying it, of course. That will take some time.”

“Seems like reuniting the pieces would be a good idea,” Reika offered. “Might help the spirit lady in there wake up?”

“Vendria is a seasonal goddess, so that’s probably a part of it as well. Those crystals contain her summer aspect, Venshara. She’s a fire deity, so that’s probably why Akari…” I looked at Soulbrand’s avatar, “should I keep calling you that?”

“It’s as good a name as any, until I find a new one.” She frowned, wrinkling her nose a little in the process. “Wish I could remember if I had one before.”

“Before?” I asked. “…Were you someone else before you were in the sword?”

“I…don’t know.” She shook her head. “Things are…hazy. I have little memories here and there, but…I think they’re all from the sword’s perspective. I always felt trapped in there, though.”

“Could you talk, before?” Reika asked.

She nodded. “I…had other wielders. Years ago. My memories aren’t great, but…I had one I talked to, for a while. I think I was young, then. But then she died, and…the cloaked man took me.”

“Cloaked man?” Ishyeal asked, picking up the amulet and coming to sit down near us.

“I don’t remember much of him. His face…I can’t see it. But when my wielder died, he came and took me and put me somewhere. I remember waiting for a long, long time.”

“Your guardian!” Reika gasped. “He must have been your guardian!”

“I don’t know about that.” Akari shook her head. “But…eventually another person came and took me. And…he didn’t like it when I talked.” Her head drooped. “I…I tried to be quiet for him, but…he…”

She curled up, wrapping her arms around her legs.

Ishyeal knelt down, and in a surprising gesture of tenderness, he sheathed Soulbrand and put his hands on Akari’s shoulders. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

Akari shivered. “…It’s okay. You…weren’t bad to me. You just…like you said, you didn’t know.” She turned her head down.

The Green Guardian finally decided to stop standing stoically and sat down along with us, reaching a hand out to put it on Akari’s leg. “You suffered for far too long, sister.”

“Sister…? Then…you’re…” Her eyes widened, then she reached out and grabbed his gauntlet in her smaller hands. “You’re one of my siblings? You’re…Diamantine, right?”

When their hands touched, I felt a swelling of emotion from Dawn. She didn’t say anything, but it was clear enough.

She…wanted her siblings to hold her hands, too.

The Green Guardian shook his head. “You are…mostly right. I am…I was…a mere fraction of Diamantine. A piece given to one of the royal guard two decades ago. When I awoke within his body and spoke to him, he thought himself mad at first…but when he realized what had happened…” The Green Guardian shook his head. “Han Jiang was a brave man. He taught me much of the world, and then, without a thought to the consequences for himself…he cut me free. Lacking flesh, I forged a form of crystal. It was…clumsy at first, but I grew better at controlling it over time.”

Reika gasped. “Then…what happened to the royal guard?”

“Imprisoned. The royal family did not take kindly to being ‘robbed’ of one of their greatest treasures, even in part. I have tried to seek him out, but…” The Green Guardian shook his head. “I have not yet succeeded. The royal family has long hunted for me in an attempt to reunite the piece of Diamantine that houses my soul with the blade they carry.”

The Green Guardian turned his head toward me. “You…you have cut the cord that tied the sword to me. Freed me, much as you freed my sister. I thank you for that, but I am…lesser now, I think. Without the blade, I…I do not know what I am.”

Akari smiled and squeezed The Green Guardian’s gauntlet. “Hey. We can figure that out together, can’t we?”

“I…I am not so certain. I must return soon to protect my home and my princess. And I do not believe you will find yourself there.”

“You would still want to help Edria Song, even if she was hunting you?” Reika frowned. “Why?”

“Edria is my home. Regardless of what she does, she is a part of it.”

I reached into my pouch and retrieved the green crystal pendant the Green Guardian had given me. “I assume this is how you found us during the fight with Akadi?”

He nodded. “A piece of my armor. And…of myself, in some sense.”

“You’ve been reading my thoughts through it, haven’t you?”

“…To some extent. I apologize for doing it without your permission, but I needed more information to verify that you were not deceiving me about your treatment of my sister. And it helped me respond to your actions as well.”

“I’m not thrilled with that, but I suppose it worked out. That’s how you were able to shield the audience so quickly when Dawn and I hit Soulbrand, isn’t it?”

“Correct. When I sensed the action you were about to take, I prepared my barrier before your attack was completed.”

That helped explain some things. I’d known he was using the crystal to track me, but knowing that he could read my thoughts…well, we’d have more to discuss later. In private. For the moment, something else was more important. “Before we get any further into this talk, or anyone has to leave…” I reached for Dawn, now lying across my lap. Ishyeal tensed, much like I had when I’d felt threatened. I froze. “Sorry! Not attacking anyone. I just think Dawn would like to talk to her siblings.”

Akari gasped. “Oh, of course! I’ve been so rude! Can I…” She waved in the sword’s direction.

Dawn? Is it okay if…

<I…don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more in my life.>

***

I shifted Dawn to lie across Reika’s stomach, which was basically the only position in which everyone could put a hand on her without forcing Reika to move. And everyone there did — okay, other than the unconscious, one-handed emperor.

And then we talked.

Just…talked.

By silent agreement, Ishyeal, Reika, and I let the siblings do most of the talking. They’d been silent and alone for far, far too long.

Ishyeal broke away first, for practical reasons. He went to check on the emperor, ensuring he was still breathing. Then, he began to carefully purify the equipment left on Akadi’s body, which he’d placed on the other side of the ship. It was a wise precaution — if Akadi was able to store his shade in a crystal, it stood to reason that he might have had some kind of ability to store it in his armor or other pieces of equipment, too.

Eventually, I stood up, too, intending to do so only briefly. With Dawn’s blessing, I left her with her siblings.

The Green Guardian’s helmet followed me as I stood. The reason why was clear — I still was carrying Diamantine.

He said nothing about it, but the implication was clear. We’d talk about it soon enough.

In the meantime, I let the siblings and Reika talk while I swept across the ship and retrieved Reika’s Density Diamond, which she’d been forced to drop during the fight. I returned that to her, checked on the emperor, and turned around to find his granddaughter right behind me.

I jumped back out of instinct, but she raised a still-wounded hand. “I am not here to fight, Wielder of Dawnbringer. Not unless I have to.” Her eyes locked on Diamantine in my hand, then narrowed. “But you have some explaining to do.”

***

So, I explained.

I told her about the remainder of the fight with the emperor and the appearance of Akadi’s true self.

And, with their consent, I told her about the three very different siblings that were now gathered around Reika’s still-injured form.

“The swords…” Edria Song focused on them putting a hand over her eyes. “Alive. They’re all alive.”

She shook, harder and harder, until I realized that she was laughing.

“Alive. They’re alive! This…explains so much.” She spun toward me. “You knew! That’s why…I wondered why you cut that thread of magic in the air, but…”

“You didn’t know?” I asked. “You truly didn’t?”

“I…I knew that the Green Guardian had a stolen piece of the sword. I heard a voice from time to time. Their voice, I think.” She turned to him. “It was barely a whisper. I thought perhaps I was going mad.”

The Green Guardian nodded. “I tried to speak to your mind directly, to explain, but it was difficult. I wasn’t able to get close enough to you to communicate clearly — the risk of being captured was too great.”

“Yes…captured…” She turned toward him, smiling. “That is what we were going to do, wasn’t it?”

The Green Guardian stood, folding his arms. “Not today.”

I stepped in between them. “Don’t even try it.”

Edria Song narrowed her eyes at me. “You would stand between a wielder and their sword?”

“I think my friend over there has made it perfectly clear that you’re not his wielder.”

Edria Song scoffed. “Why would he have a say in the hand that wields him?”

My hand tightened around Diamantine’s hilt. “He is a person. Of course he should have a say.”

“Calling that thing a person may be a stretch.” She glared at me. In the background, I could see Ishyeal subtly moving to the side of us. I caught his eyes and a very slight nod. “And even if I accept that premise, he’s a fugitive.”

I appreciated Ishyeal’s gesture, but I really hoped it wouldn’t come to taking him up on his silent offer. “The Green Guardian helped save the emperor. And he stayed to help you save the island, too…” I paused. “Did you succeed at that?”

She nodded. “I did. The island is fine, albeit in chaos. Someone separated the Royal Retreat from the rest of the island without my authorization, presumably as a distraction. The people responsible for all this seem to have stolen another airship and concealed themselves with powerful magic…but they will be found, eventually. And the Green Guardian’s service is noted, and will be duly taken into account when we decide his fate.”

Slowly, painfully, Reika pushed herself into a seated position…then stood, with Akari’s help and Dawn in her good hand. “He won’t be going anywhere he doesn’t want to go.”

Akari stepped in front of the Green Guardian. “We won’t be your slaves. None of us. Never again.”

Crown Princess Edria Song glared at Akari, then seemed to notice Ishyeal’s presence to my right for the first time. She turned to each of us, processing and considering, and then…

“…You have made a poor choice today, and I will remember it. But for now…you have saved the life of the emperor, and I must see that his wounds are properly treated.” The crown princess extended her hand to me. “Return the sword to its rightful owner and I will go.”

I looked straight into her eyes. “I will.” Then I turned and walked the few steps necessary to press Diamantine’s hilt into the Green Guardian’s hand.

The Green Guardian turned the blade over in his hand, then nodded to me.

I turned back to Edria Song. “It is done.”

“You…that sword belongs to…”

I shrugged. “I seem to recall you telling me something about having the right to the spoils of battle, after I defeated Xiaofan? And, you know, that whole thing where whoever beats the wielder of Diamantine is the new wielder?”

“That…that’s not…” She trembled, stepping toward me. “That isn’t fair! You didn’t beat him in the tournament. And he isn’t the wielder anymore!”

“No, but he beat you, meaning he was the…you know what, it doesn’t matter. I don’t care about justifying this with some antiquated rules. The Green Guardian is Diamantine. The semantics of these rules and traditions are irrelevant to that. It’s his body. He can do whatever he wants with it.”

“This isn’t over.” Edria Song ducked down, put one hand on the emperor’s shoulder, and glared at me. “I won’t forget this.”

“I wouldn’t want you to.”

Then with a crack, Edria Song vanished, taking the emperor’s unconscious body along with her.

“So…” Ishyeal turned to me, shaking his head. “That went well. Anyone know how to fly this thing? I have a feeling we’ll want to make it go a little faster.”

***

We did not, in fact, have anyone who knew how to fly the airship — but Reika figured it out. Sort of.

Enough to get some basic steering functional and increase our speed. She kept us moving for several hours before we found the display for the fuel…and realized it was critically low.

We didn’t precisely crash in the Unclaimed Lands. But when you’re in an airship that is badly damaged and you don’t really know what you’re doing, well, let’s say we didn’t exactly land properly, either.

Fortunately, no one was hurt. I mean, not any more critically than we already were, which was…frankly, pretty bad, especially in Reika’s case. Ishyeal was probably the next worst, given his broken ribs. By that, I mean all of his ribs — Akadi had seemingly cracked them in that moment when he’d touched Ishyeal’s chest. They weren’t split to pieces or anything, but I didn’t know how he was even functional with that kind of damage. Not human, I guess, so he probably had inhuman pain tolerance like my own…but that had limits.

When we’d been threatening a fight with Edria Song, it was a good thing she didn’t force us into one. Her hand was hurt and she didn’t have Diamantine, but if all her attunements were functional again….well, it probably would have gone badly for us.

After we emerged from the not-quite-crashed ship’s wreckage, we quickly determined that getting it back in the air any time soon was implausible. We salvaged what we could — the areas below-deck were packed with supplies, and many of those supplies had survived intact.

I managed to find the massive power crystals that served as power sources for the ship and pry those loose, but I didn’t have any way to store them. Fortunately, Ishyeal and Reika both had dimensional bags. We tossed the crystals into them.

Reika pressed Dawn back into my hand. I sheathed her back at my side.

Missed you.

<I was right nearby, and it’s only been a few hours…but ugh, fine, I missed you, too.>

After that…we were more or less stranded in an unfamiliar part of the Unclaimed Lands. We were injured, exhausted, and mana deprived. We weren’t close to anywhere Ishyeal was familiar with enough to teleport to, even if he had the mana available for it, which he didn’t.

Which left us with a decision—

Where did we go next?

Edria was the closest nation, but if Edria Song’s final words were any indication, going back there immediately was a very poor idea.

The Earth Temple was the most obvious option, since Reika had the master key…but there were other valid choices. The Fire Temple might be ideal if we wanted to get Soulbrand repaired, or the Water Temple if we wanted to focus on finding more about Flowbreaker…or I could keep searching for Wrynn and clues about home.

My right hand found Reika’s. My left rested on Dawn’s hilt.

Ishyeal stood with us with Akari by his side. The Green Guardian hesitated, then moved to stand with us as well.

Together, we watched the sun rise over the Unclaimed Lands.

No matter what we decided to do next, one thing was certain:

None of us had to do it alone.

EPILOGUE – ELEGY TO A LOST AGE

“Alone.”

Keras lowered his head as he spoke the last word of his tale. His eyes shut.

Alone again.

He exhaled a deep breath, then opened his eyes to see the students watching him expectantly. He cracked a fake smile. “…And that’s it. The end.”

Silence. At least for a moment. Blissful, horrible silence.

“…That can’t be the end.” Mara shook her head. “What happened next? Where’d you go? Where did Dawn and Reika…”

“A story for another time.” Keras shook his head. “I…don’t have any more left in me right now.”

“But…could you answer some other questions, at least?” Corin asked hopefully.

Keras turned to him dubiously. “…What sort of questions?”

Sera cut in. “You mentioned Saffron, then nothing ever happened with him. Was he involved in all that?”

Corin looked a little uncomfortable when Saffron was mentioned, so Keras shook his head. “I don’t think so. A false lead. I didn’t run into Saffron until later. There was someone else, though…”

“The white-haired man?” Sera asked. “Another Child of the Tyrant?”

“…Something like that.”

Sera contemplated that. “…And what of Prince Edria Liang? He clearly had a role in those events, but…”

Keras raised both hands. “Please. No more political questions. I’m exhausted. Maybe I can explain that another time.”

Sera grimaced, allowing Corin to finally ask a question of his own. “…So, that ring that Reika got from Alexander Theas. It had to be bound to Wraith Cutter somehow, then allow the weapon to be summoned…or possibly serve as a storage device. What did the runes on it look like?”

Keras stared at Corin for a minute, disbelieving. Of everything in the story…that was what he wanted to know more about?

…He would have laughed, but he couldn’t find it in him. There was none of that left.

“…I’ll get some paper.”

***

As the sun’s light faded away, Keras returned to his own train car. It wasn’t late, but he was tired. So very tired.

He sat down on his bed, closing his eyes. His hand moved to where a hilt should have been. Where his heart had rested, once upon a time.

I miss you.

There was no reply.

THE END

APPENDIX I – ATTUNEMENTS OF EAST EDRIA

Corin’s notes on the attunements of East Edria

I’m writing this and feeling dirty for saying “East Edria” instead of Kelridge. Jin would probably be ashamed of me for it…although I suppose he understands the realities of the current political climate better than I do.

Anyway, East Edria. Edria is unique in that they control two spires, and thus, they also have access to the attunements of the Phoenix Spire. Keras didn’t go into a ton of detail about all of them, but I think I have a better idea of how most of them work now.

- Conjurer: The East Edrian answer to the Summoner, the Conjurer, appears to create monsters and people purely from their own imagination. Apparently, they can make things that are more convincing with “samples”, but Keras didn’t get a lot of information on what that meant. I’m unclear on if they’re capable of creating contracts like Summoners and Soulblades can — maybe that would make better monsters than just the imagination-based ones? Also, interesting that these conjured creatures can seemingly use magic to some degree. I think that might have something to do with the compound mana type for Life and Umbral mana, which Keras calls “shade”. Also noteworthy that these conjured creatures may have some relationship with the shade monsters utilized by Akadi and the Sun Eater. This bears further research.

- Mana Types: Life (Primary), Umbral (Secondary), Mental (Tertiary)

- Mesmer: Jin’s attunement. Keras didn’t say much about seeing Mesmers in the tournament…but would he have? Not being noticed is sort of the point. I suppose he did encounter something similar with Ravenshade, though, and his own mask has a similar feature. Maybe the Mesmer attunement’s functions were inspired by Keras’ mask? It’s apparently been around a lot longer than Keras himself has — it’s a relic of Rendalir, much like Ceris is. Hm.

- Mana Types: Perception (Primary), Death (Secondary), Umbral (Tertiary)

- Dancer: Yeah, I’ve got nothing on this one. Weird name and he didn’t talk about it much. From the mana types, I’d suspect countermeasures to compulsion and other mind-influencing magic being a core function.

- Mana Types: Mental (Primary), Water (Secondary), Air (Tertiary)

- Purifier: One of the two heavy-hitting fire attunements from East Edria. This one seems to be focused on single-target defense-piercing light and fire spells. Given their secondary and tertiary functions, it’s fair to assume they have some utility for removing mental compulsion effects as well.

- Mana Types: Fire (Primary), Light (Secondary), Mental (Tertiary)

- Pyromancer: The other big fiery one, seemingly more focused on area-of-effect devastation rather than single target attacks. Also, they’ve got some kind of perpetual fire thing, which is presumably a function of the compound mana type for fire and death.

- Mana Types: Fire (Primary), Death (Secondary), Umbral (Tertiary)

- Shapeshifter: Oh, this is a super interesting one. It’s a contract-based attunement like a Summoner, but it lets you partially or completely transform into the contracted monster type. I have so many questions. Noteworthy in the context of this story because most people assume that Reika is a Shapeshifter with a dragon contract, as opposed to an actual dragon. Honestly, I’m surprised even that much was accepted — around here, people mostly think dragons are fictitious or extinct. I wonder if that’s because of something that happened in between the tournament and now? Or was Reika just…really rare? Hm.

- Mana Types: Perception (Primary), Earth (Secondary), Life (Tertiary)

- Spellsinger: Didn’t get to see much of this one, save for Xiaofan, and she was possessed so she was mostly using Akadi’s abilities. Apparently, it’s built around word-based delivery of effects, so maybe Haruka Saito was a Spellsinger as well? Unclear. Either way, yeah, word magic.

- Mana Types: Air (Primary), Perception (Secondary), Light (Tertiary)

- Swordmaster: A physical-heavy attunement, similar to Guardians, but with an emphasis on weapon enhancement. And, uh, one of mom’s attunements, I guess. I’m still not sure what happened there. Anyway, within Keras’ story, Alexander Theas was the primary representative of this attunement. He seemed to favor using his Shaper attunement — unsurprising, since that’s the Valian one and he probably got it first — so I didn’t get a good idea of how much he could do with this, save for the fact that he was incredibly fast and agile, likely as an effect from compounding enhancement mana from two attunements.

- Mana Types: Enhancement (Primary), Fire (Secondary), Stone (Tertiary)

APPENDIX II – CHARACTERS

Sera’s notes on the characters in the story.

Most of the characters Keras talked about here were present in the last segment of his story as well, but there were a few notable additions as well. And he learned a fair bit more about some people, too.

Let’s review.

Keras himself is, of course, the central protagonist. While he goes by Keras Selyrian, that’s not his real name. He’s a swordsman from the distant continent of Mythralis, apparently hailing from somewhere near Selyr. While he does not have an attunement, he has magical powers from his homeland. He calls his magic “dominion sorcery” and specializes in metal, flame, and stone. He’s also got some kind of weird aura of annihilation that seems unusual even by his homeland’s standards. He’s probably somewhere in the Emerald-level range in terms of overall power, but with a major focus on offensive ability and weaker defenses.

Reika is the dragon that he encountered near the beginning of the story, then subsequently recruited to accompany him on his journey. She was the guardian of Dawnbringer before Keras came to retrieve the sword, and had a strong relationship with Dawn since childhood.

In addition to being able to transform into several forms — human, dragon, human/dragon hybrid, and incorporeal dragon — Reika also has the distinction of being utterly incapable of treating injuries properly. Her attempted ministrations were, perhaps, the most dangerous part of the entire story.

Early on in a previous part of the story, she also forms a bond with Frienemy, a nightmare spirit from the forest where she used to live.

Dawnbringer is one of the Six Sacred Swords and apparently a sentient magical weapon. She corresponds to the element of light and has a variety of light-themed abilities. She’s also apparently kind of a brat, but in the kind of way that means she probably secretly likes Keras more than she’s willing to admit. (I know the type.)

Dawnbringer calls Reika “Rei”, and Reika calls Dawnbringer “Dawn”.

The Spirit of the Forest is some sort of ancient forest spirit. I have basically zero idea what its purpose is, other than possibly administrating the tests in the Whispering Woods.

Your Enemy (also “Frienemy”) is another forest spirit, and one that seems to serve the function of running (or at least participating in) a test of bravery. He’s described as being a nightmare spirit, which is a horrifying concept that I don’t like at all. Perhaps more worryingly, it seemed more afraid of Keras than he was of it — which begs the question…what is Keras, anyway?

Raizo is one of the leaders of the Tails of Orochi and the wielder of Cloudcutter, one of the other Six Sacred Swords. He killed Reika’s father, and therefore he is her arch nemesis.

Zenkichi was one of the other leaders of the Tails of Orochi, and apparently was something of a rival swordsman to Raizo. He was interested in taking Dawnbringer in order to gain a competitive advantage (or at least even the odds) against his fellow tail.

Keras and Reika killed him. Like, a lot.

Landen is apparently one of Keras’ friends from back in his homeland. He’s a swordsman with an unusual two sword style, which seems like it would have been a good thing for Keras to learn, since he was lugging around two swords for most of the story and only using one at a time.

Sterling is one of Keras’ worst enemies, which makes sense, given that Sterling is one of the Children of the Tyrant in Gold. Yeah. That’s bad. I really hope we never run into that guy. Just hearing Corin’s stories about Saffron was bad enough.

The Old Sage is some old guy that apparently sent Keras to this continent. I hope Keras has learned a valuable lesson about not letting strange old people teleport him anywhere.

Lydia is one of Keras’ friends, as well as his commanding officer in the Paladins of… T-something? I didn’t catch the name. Anyway, she’s apparently a powerful sorceress, and an apprentice of Blake Hartigan — the legendary ancestor of the Hartigan family.

Velas is Keras’ rival, and a spear-wielder. She wields a magical artifact called the Heartlance, and she apparently has movement-focused magic, similar to what Corin can do with his ring.

Jelani is a merchant that Keras first encountered during his preliminary exam.

Grandmother Iron is a martial arts teacher and former tournament finalist.

Walter Crown is an assistant teacher for Grandmother Iron’s school and a Citrine-level attuned with two attunements — Forgemaster and Soulblade.

Lia Shay is one of Grandmother Iron’s students. She has no attunement, but specializes in gathering information through mundane means.

Ari is one of Grandmother Iron’s students. He’s a bit of a hothead and has the Juggernaut attunement.

Wu Meilin is one of Grandmother Iron’s students. She’s calm and decisive, with several weapon skills and the Assassin attunement.

Fai is one of Grandmother Iron’s students. He has an Acolyte attunement, an attunement from Dalenos built for healing. Like all of Grandmother Iron’s students, he’s a talented martial artist.

Oskar is an old friend of Walter’s. He has the Juggernaut attunement.

Shun is an antisocial man with a penchant for the color green. May actually be the Green Guardian, and/or possibly a serpent.

Wu Xiaofan is a veteran adventurer who found an enchanted scythe in the Unclaimed Lands. Her personality was said to be different after her expedition. She’s also Meilin’s sister.

The Green Guardian is a legendary “hero of justice” who wears glowing green armor and helps save people from dangerous threats. He fights in the tournament using impressive powers, most of which seem related to crystal and stone. He seems to know Dawnbringer somehow, and tells her not to trust Keras. Perhaps he’s one of her former wielders, somehow still alive after many years?

Hannah Meiyer is a member of the Edrian Royal Guard and one of the top-ranking tournament contestants. Her nickname is The Royal Executioner, a reference to her Emerald-level Executioner attunement.

Akadi is one of the harbingers of the Sun Eater, the world-eating deity that destroyed the entire planet of Rendalir. Apparently, he has multiple bodies, as well as some kind of possession abilities.

Ishyeal Dawnsglow is the wielder of Soulbrand, the Sacred Sword of Fire. He has some kind of vendetta against Akadi, which seems pretty reasonable, given that Akadi works for a planet-destroying monstrosity.

The Phantom Thief Ravenshade is a legendary thief, and apparently, also the wielder of Twilight’s Edge, the Sacred Sword of Shadow.

Edria Fang is the emperor of Edria at the time of the tournament. He was the wielder of Diamantine before the tournament started, but passed it off to Edria Song, his granddaughter, during the opening ceremonies.

Edria Song is the Crown Princess of Edria, wielder of Diamantine after the tournament starts, and set to be the final opponent in the tournament. She has been blessed since childhood with six (!!!) attunements.

Kamaria Clarent is a Forgemaster who fought against Edria Song in the opening ceremonies.

Mikasa Kotetsu is an East Edrian Conjurer who fought against Edria Song in the opening ceremonies.

Zhang Yun is an Edrian with the Shieldbreaker attunement who fought against Edria Song in the opening ceremonies. He also had a crystal mark from one of the crystals in the Unclaimed Lands, but I’m not clear on if he actually used it during the fight.

Oskar Klein is an Emerald-level Edrian Legionnaire and lower-level Sentinel who fought against Edria Song in the opening ceremonies.

Alexander Theas is a Valian Shaper and Swordmaster who fought against Edria Song in the opening ceremonies. I think he’s Elora and Sheridan’s cousin? Not sure. Need to ask about him sometime. Sounds cute, and possibly eligible.

Thomas is an attendant at the Lost Halls training facility.

Jonas is a Biomancer who worked for the Lost Halls training facility.

Li Qiyang was a Seer (or another kind of information gathering attuned) who worked for the Lost Halls training facility.

Wang Xue is a Conjurer who worked for the Lost Halls training facility.

Takeshi Kurita is a high-level Swordmaster and Champion from the Dalenos Six.

Haruka Saito is a member of the Dalenos Six with some kind of command-based powers and light magic. My best guess is that she had the Hierophant attunement, one of the restricted ones.

Suzuki is a Conjurer from the Dalenos Six. Probably also an Elementalist, unless he was just using Shade magic to throw fake lightning? Not sure.

Satoshi Muramasa is probably the most dangerous person in the tournament as a whole. He had a strange greatsword similar to the Dominion Breaker, likely with some kind of connection to it. He primarily used enhancement mana at an extremely high level, reinforcing objects, cutting through things with his aura, and moving so quickly that virtually no one could even perceive him.

I suppose I should also write down everyone that’s been listening to the story, just to help us keep track for later.

Corin Cadence is my brother, and much to his dismay, an Enchanter. He’s set to inherit House Cadence, at least for now.

Patrick Wayland is Corin’s retainer (after a decision he never asked me about). He’s about as kind-hearted as anyone can get, and loves stories about magic weapons and monsters. He’d probably love Reika.

Marissa Callahan is the best fighter of our little group of students, possessing a Guardian attunement with a vastly higher amount of mana than she should have at her age. We generally call her by the nickname “Mara”.

Vanniv is one of my summoned monsters, and a karvensi, which is basically like a gargoyle but better.

Researcher is another of my summoned monsters. She’s a knowledge elemental, and loves learning things. Sadly, she’s not actually getting to hear the story right now, but I might share some of it with her later.

Then, of course, there’s me — Sera Cadence, formerly known as Sera Shard, potential heir of House Cadence, and Summoner…or, rather, former Summoner. That’s kind of a long story, and one I’ll have to write about another time.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

First off, I’d like to thank my literary agent, Paul Lucas, and his assistant, Eloy Bleifuss, for providing me with tremendous support with my books. Thanks, guys.

I’d also like to thank the team over at Podium for doing such a fantastic job with the audio books for this series, and, of course, Nick Podehl for his amazing voice over work.

I first created this setting for tabletop RPGs and LARPs. This story doesn’t directly coincide with the plot of any of those games, but there are a lot of references in here to story elements and characters from those games. For example, the story that Keras tells about Rendalir is a hyper simplified retelling of Rendalir Remembered, a spin-off campaign run by Dani Lee Collins, Emily Gittelhough, and Trevor Gittelhough. I’d like to thank all of them for helping expand on Rendalir (which existed only as a backstory piece in my own games) and bring it to life.

I’d also like to thank Trevor for being the one to portray Akadi in the live-action game. He did a fantastic job of making Akadi a memorable and absolutely terrifying villain.

Several of the other characters in this story either originated in these games or ended up being portrayed by them.

Ishyeal Dawnsglow is Andrew Warren’s player character from one of my oldest D&D campaigns and one of the oldest established characters in the setting as a whole. Taer’vys Ironthorn is a LARP character created and portrayed by Rob McDiarmid. Reika and Dawn were created for these books, but Reika was played in the live game by Mowi Reaves, and Dawn was played by Carly Thomas and Joslyn Field. Akari was played by Heather Crosthwaite.

Ravenshade was named in tribute to an online role-playing friend’s character, Teletha Ravenshade, played by Amy Johnson.

Thanks to all my beta readers, including John Bierce, Luke Chmilenko, Heather Crosthwaite, Yvonne Etzkorn, Justin Green, Brian Heins, Ethan Ishikawa, Michael Kelly, Jonah L.L., Rob McDiarmid, Rowan Noel Williams, Mowi Reaves, Jess Richards Bruce Rowe, Christine Rowe, Olivia Szachta, Liam Wales, Andrew Warren, Will Wight, James Wolter, and Brandon Yee.

Finally, thanks to the community over on Reddit’s /r/fantasy, especially asuraemulator, Green0Photon, Jadeyard, and the other users who took the time to give me feedback on my earlier works.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Andrew Rowe was once a professional game designer for awesome companies like Blizzard Entertainment, Cryptic Studios, and Obsidian Entertainment. Nowadays, he’s writing full time.

When he’s not crunching numbers for game balance, he runs live-action role-playing games set in the same universe as his books. In addition, he writes for pen and paper role-playing games.

Aside from game design and writing, Andrew watches a lot of anime, reads a metric ton of fantasy books, and plays every role-playing game he can get his hands on.

Interested in following Andrew’s book releases, or discussing them with other people? You can find more info, updates, and discussions in a few places online:

Andrew’s Blog: https://andrewkrowe.wordpress.com/

Mailing List: https://andrewkrowe.wordpress.com/mailing-list/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Arcane-Ascension-378362729189084/

Reddit: https://www.reddit.com/r/ClimbersCourt/

OTHER BOOKS BY ANDREW ROWE

The War of Broken Mirrors Series

Forging Divinity

Stealing Sorcery

Defying Destiny

Arcane Ascension Series

Sufficiently Advanced Magic

On the Shoulders of Titans

The Torch that Ignites the Stars

Arcane Ascension 4 (Coming Soon)

Weapons and Wielders Series

Six Sacred Swords

Diamantine

Soulbrand

Weapons and Wielders 4 (Coming Soon)

Other Books

How to Defeat a Demon King in Ten Easy Steps

Table of Contents

Dedication

Table of Contents

Map of Kaldwyn

Style Notes

Recap – Magic and Terms

Recap – Six Sacred Swords and Diamantine

Prologue – Tales of Destiny

Chapter I – Vanishing Omen

Chapter II – Full Metal Body

Chapter III – King’s Crests

Chapter IV – Blade Dance

Chapter V – Limit Breaker

Chapter VI – Symbol of Fire

Chapter VII – Almost Certain Doom

Chapter VIII – A Saga of Romance

Chapter IX – Odyssey Regained

Chapter X – Requiem

Chapter XI – Lost Legacy

Chapter XII – Thousands of Arms

Chapter XIII – Eternal Tales

Chapter XIV – Shadow of a Deadly Thief

Chapter XV – Dark Project for a Backup Bandit

Chapter XVI – Alliance for Vengeance

Chapter XVII – Dungeon Hack

Chapter XVIII – The Dungeon’s Master

Chapter XIX – Fading Light

Chapter XX – Reforging Hope

Chapter XXI – Artifact Aquisition

Chapter XXII – Of Might and Magic

Chapter XXIII – Shadow Caster

Chapter XXIV – Heart of Shadows

Chapter XXV – Dragon Warrior

Chapter XXVI – Swords and Serpents

Chapter XXVII – Hollow Knight

Chapter XXVIII – Absence of Fate

Chapter XXIX – Vermillion Sword

Chapter XXX – Broken Blade

Chapter XXXI – Darkened Souls

Chapter XXXII – Weapons & Wielders

Chapter XXXIII – Trails Across the Sky

Epilogue – Elegy to a Lost Age

Appendix I – Attunements of East Edria

Appendix II – Characters

Acknowledgements

About the Author

Other Books by Andrew Rowe