Through the privacy glass I noticed several arena staff in the stands, pacing the empty rows for rubbish as they prepared for today's crowd. The massive display that hovered in the arena's center was already lit up with coverage of the games. I shook my head at the marquee scrolling along the bottom.

  “Gladiator mourns lover’s death.”

  Above the text, it replayed the same clip of Aine kneeling next to a guard's corpse, shouting “No” and “I can’t do this without you."

  It was obvious to me she was speaking to her little friend, but to anyone who didn’t know he existed; it really did look like she was mourning the shriveled guard.

  Oh well, I sighed, press is press.

  “Doesn’t it seem a bit obvious?” I asked, watching absent-mindedly as a panel of news anchors theorized over the affair. It was of a juicy nature. Apparently, that shriveled corpse was an Equites. A caste nowhere remotely close to nobility, but it was still a few rungs above Aine’s station as a free commoner.

  “Doesn’t what seem obvious?” Corin asked, sounding slightly distracted.

  “Well, everyone knows these news syndications are all owned by Helios Broadcast, which is the parent company of Virex, which is a subsidiary of—” I paused for dramatic effect, “Aurion holdings.”

  “I’m not sure everyone speaks corpo-conspiracy with the same level of fluency, Lucian.” Corin mocked.

  “Conspiracy?” I gave a wounded scoff, stumbling slightly as the floor rattled from whatever she was doing. “Aurion is an affiliate of Aurix Incorporated.” I explained, my tone implying the connection should be obvious.

  “Okay.” she said, not sounding the slightest bit interested.

  “Which is the chief sponsor of the tournament.” I continued, shaking my head inside the dome-like helmet I wore. “Really, Corin, I thought you were smarter than that.” The floor rattled again, jerking me forward and smacking my forehead off the inside of the dome. “No need to get upset, I—”

  “You think they’re using this story about Aine to distract from the fact that they’ve lost control of the games.”

  “Exactly.” I said, irritated as I tried to wedge a hand under the helmet to nurse my forehead.

  “Nope,” she shouted a moment later.

  “Nope what?”

  “It isn’t obvious. At least it won’t be for most people. Way too many layers for your average human to parse through.”

  I coughed, as if choking on her disrespect. “It’s only four!” I shot back, “besides, if you’re so much wiser than us lowly humans, why hadn’t you parsed it out?”

  “I did,” she answered. “I just know how you like to feel smart.”

  “Suppose I walked into that,” I muttered, forgetting the helmet as I went to smack my own forehead.

  Conspiracies aside, there had to be some way to capitalize on the tale of tragic romance being spun. Her approval rating was already beyond my wildest expectations, though that was probably due to the furry thing.

  “Who knew the public had such an affinity for rodents,” I mumbled, surprised when Corin heard me through the helmet.

  “It’s a marsupial,” she corrected, “speaking of which, have you been able to contact her?”

  “I haven’t, her messages keep going to some idiot demanding a fee.”

  I didn’t need to lift the helmet I was wearing to know Corin was probably casting a look of doubt my way.

  “We’ll figure it out,” I said, batting the air dismissively, “What about Oren, has he checked in yet”

  Before she could answer, the door to the cavea hissed open, allowing two rows of guards to spill inside. There were eight in total, spreading to aim their guns at me from every corner of the room.

  “Is this really necessary?” I asked, hands raised as a slightly older version of myself strolled inside.

  He looked me up and down, his mouth twisting like he’d just tasted something awful and couldn’t decide whether or not to spit it out. In the end he did. I frowned at the nugget of spit beside my boots, thankful it hadn’t landed on them; that would’ve been a problem.

  “I should’ve offered you up to the mongrels,” he said. “Even as an infant, I could tell there was something off about you.”

  “Nice to see you too, father. I assume you’re here to discuss our family’s most recent investments?”

  “Investments.” He muttered, shaking his head. “No, boy, I’m not here to talk about investments. You’ve been a blight on this house for far too long. I’m here to cut out the rot.”

  He nodded to a guard on my left who, without a moment of hesitation, shot me cleanly through the head. A real go-getter, that one. I frowned, casually eyeing the round embedded in the wall.

  “Where are you?” My father shouted, practically foaming the mouth as he swiped an arm through me.

  A guard with the major’s insignia on his breastplate stepped forward, his palm projecting a spherical map of the coliseum. At its center was a pale red dot that I assumed was meant to represent my person.

  “Technology.” I shrugged, “never reliable when you need it. I’m actually in the next room.” I resisted the urge to laugh as the major turned towards the door.

  “He’s not in the next fucking room.” My father hissed, a hand pressed against the major’s chest to hold him back. The major snapped to attention, cheeks flaring bright red. “How did you remove your implants?” my father demanded, now inches from my projection’s face.

  “You know I can zoom out, right? Standing that close isn’t having the effect you think it does.”

  His jaw clenched as he breathed, slowly venting anger through his teeth.

  “You’ve bought yourself an hour at most.” He muttered, eyes flickering as he transmitted orders to his men.

  I eyed the major as he pounded a salute against his chest. He executed a perfect forty-five-degree pivot on his heels that I had to admit was impressive. I wondered if my father was promoting men based solely on parade drills as the major marched off with three guards in tow.

  “That’s who you’re sending after me?” I asked with a disconcerting frown. “Really, father, I think you measure me too lightly. I could probably fend that one off just shouting; ‘Oh no, look out’ while pointing over his shoulder.”

  The duke glared, his head tipping slightly as he breathed a single indignant laugh. “You don’t know, do you?” He asked, pacing around me. I didn’t bother turning to follow him as he circled me.

  “Know what?” I asked, lifting my brow.

  He circled round to my other side, sneering as he leaned in close.

  “Your little scheme has already fallen apart.” He said, waving a hand through the air. “The Magistry’s annulled the wager and frozen my funds—pending the evidence I’ll be extracting from your brain-matter. They also issued a warrant for your execution, not that I need one to dispose of my own refuse.”

  “Well, of course. How else would you collect the evidence?” I said without a hint of cynicism, I’d always appreciated the absurdity of our laws.

  “You could always confess,” he suggested, the irony lost on him, “though we both know I’ll be killing you either way.”

  “Justice.” I smiled, which seemed to set him off.

  “Justice?” He said, incredulous. A few of the guards shuffled nervously as he halted his stride, his arrogant calm giving way to a face tight with rage. “Applies to persons of titleage, of which you are not. You do not have agency beyond what I dispense, no matter what delusions you’ve contrived from your texts.”

  “Yet.” I corrected, wagging my finger. “Not a person of titleage…yet.” I couldn’t help but smile as he gaped, eyes bulging as if he stared at the face of madness itself. My smile widened as Corin’s footsteps tapped against the deck, muffled by the bulky helmet of the holo-chamber. She squeezed my hand, the signal that Oren’s team had checked in.

  Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

  “Have you not been listening? Your ploy is—”

  “Foiled? Yes, I know.” I said, brow drawing together as I stroked my chin. “Just—sheer curiosity, but I hope you’ll humor this failure of a son with one final question?”

  “What?” he literally spat. I winced as a fleck of saliva shot out of his mouth, flickering through my projection.

  “That…official at the Magistry you spoke with…he wouldn’t happen to have been Praetor Gullis?”

  He choked out a laugh, “You can’t bluff your way out of this.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of trying.” I said, pressing a hand to my chest in mock conciliation, “we have the same poker-face after all.”

  I ventured a glance at the vintage counter on my wrist. One of nine, given to each of his clones at reaching nineteen. I’d long since removed the microscopic injectors full of neurotoxin. A test my father devised that claimed three of my sibling’s lives. The move seemed to give him pause, his disbelief breaking as a twinge of doubt crept into his brow.

  “Praetor Gullis owes his life to this house. You expect me to believe he let you buy him off with my money?”

  “Of course not.” His head jerked at the show of confidence as I began to pace my projection around the room. “That would be in poor taste, not to mention expensive. Blackmail was a much more economical choice.”

  “Black—” he sputtered, eyes bulging, “what could you possibly hold over a praetor’s head?”

  “Don’t act so surprised, father. You elite types make it too easy, what with your—youthful,” I took my time searching for the word, “or should I say, adolescent? tastes.”

  His eyes flickered and dulled over and over, in what I interpreted was him attempting to reach the old judge himself. After a moment he seemed to give up, finally narrowing his gaze on me. If I knew my father, this was about the time he’d play his own cards. The sadistic grin taking shape told me I was right.

  “I brought assurances of my own.” He said, his voice calm and measured in a way that would be convincing to anyone but me.

  “Oh?” I tilted my head, giving just the right blend of disinterest and curiosity. Acting too surprised would be out of character, and too much disinterest would reveal that I already knew what card he was about to show—Eunice’s family.

  His palm opened, blue lights painting the air to display the image I expected. A middling man, Eunice’s father, rocking a newborn in his arms. He stood behind a table where Marie, the man’s wife, sat alongside Harlo, Eunice’s older brother. It was clear from the video that they were all under guard. Each of them glancing nervously toward a corner of a room where I assumed a guard was standing.

  I frowned as Corin squeezed my wrist twice—it was a recording. I’d have to bluff after all.

  “You will send me your location, along with Aldren’s, if he still lives.” He said, his tone indicating he didn’t have high hopes for the old clerk. “You’ll also turn over any evidence you have regarding the—extracurriculars of Praetor Gullis—and any other noblemen you’ve been spying on.” I knew my father well enough to know his mind was already buzzing with ideas of how to put that evidence to use.

  “I suppose I would have to,” I said casually, a smile forming as I stared into his eyes, “were they still in that room.” I held my gaze through his laugh. Pretending I was twisting knives into his sockets really helped me sell the look. Like a lion, having cornered its prey. He shifted his jaw, the humor leaving his body as he measured my stare. Were we in the same room, he’d have the luxury of listening to my thoughts. Dealing with him like this, he almost seemed…defenseless. Go on, call my bluff.

  His eyes flickered again as he made the call. Three slow squeezes—Corin had their location.

  “You liar—” his mouth shuttered, eyes going blank. I knew the look. It was the look someone gave when they were panicking internally. Corin had cut the transmission. Not from my father, but from the other end, which prompted him to try that major next. One of his guards appeared less disciplined than the other three, his face wrinkling with concern as he looked from me to my father. He almost left his skin as my father screamed in his direction.

  “You, we’re being jammed. Contact Mahalis, tell him to safeguard the traitor’s family.” He spared another glance in my direction, before turning to the rest, “all of you go, spread out until someone gets through to him.”

  “Sir you’ll be alone—” the poor guard’s head nearly spun off his shoulders as my father’s wrist smacked his jaw.

  “I don’t need four lowborns to defend my person. Now move.”

  The duke met my gaze, his entire body seemed to tremble with rage as all four guards stormed out. I frowned, finding it hard to believe I shared a single gene with the man standing before me.

  “You should really try to be more open to advice, especially from soldiers.” I suggested, turning my projection to gaze out the window at the stands surrounding the coliseum. “You’d be surprised at how sharp some of them are.”

  “Would I?” he sneered, “is that what made you the sycophant you are? Learning from your lessers? Playing pauper with the scum of this world? No, boy. The only lesson you’ve learned, is how to covet that which isn’t yours.”

  “Fair enough,” I sighed, “but it’s only fair to that newly promoted major you scolded earlier that I tell you he was right.”

  “About what?” He screamed, anger driving him to lurch in my direction, despite me being turned the other way. His spital dotted the window I was staring through as I turned round to face him.

  “I was in the other room.”

  He stumbled backwards at the deep penetrating sound emanating from above him, one he may have recognized. A resonant breach circle, typically employed in space boarding, due to the non-explosive nature. Eyes wide, he bolted for the door, frantically swiping his hand over the lock and cursing when it remained a solid hue of red.

  There was no reason to rush, Corin already made sure it wouldn’t open the second the guards had left. She’d be gone by now; I instructed her to leave the second the charges were activated. Fighting the duke alone was a gamble, but she was too important to risk.

  I watched through my projection as I fell directly on top of myself in the room below. My father spun round just in time to watch the holo-dome I’d been wearing roll across the room. His teeth compressed into a snarl as it clacked faintly against the wall beside him.

  “Of course.” He laughed, bitterly, his eyes a blend of appreciation and contempt as he drew the rapier from his hip. The pearlescent swirls of its cage glinted as he held it in third guard. It was a pity he wasn’t stupid enough to try cutting the door, he knew steel was far too dense. It would trap the tensioning frame in place, leaving him defenseless. “You never removed your implants.”

  “If I’m being honest, I didn’t think you warranted the effort.” I said, drawing my own. “But I’m touched you thought I had. I was afraid you wouldn’t believe I had the nerve to replace all my bone-marrow.”

  “Assuming you could kill me—which, frankly, seems unlikely.” he started, relaxing his sword-arm to let the monofilament rest at his side, “you’d only create more problems for yourself.”

  “How do you figure that?” I asked, holding my blade in second position, the tip pointed upward as I circled him. He was stalling, but for what? What would I do? The corners of his lips curled upward as he followed my lead, circling in the other direction.

  “The imperium will launch an investigation at the death of any high noble.” He led on, his voice taking on a tone of measured reason that felt out of character given how rabid he’d just been. He had to know there was no talking his way out.

  “Who said anything about killing you?” I asked, concentrating on keeping my mind clear. He’d be listening for cues, anything he could use to predict when I’d strike.

  Fuck you.

  I repeated the words over and over until he lunged. He sprang off his back foot, blade angled up and to the right. A feint. The monofilament of his blade rasped, coughing sparks as it swirled around my own. He redirected my point to stab the air beside his head. I stepped into him, arm catching his wrist as he withdrew the dagger from his back. He ground his teeth, the nullsilver cages of our blades flickering as he shoved me back with a kick.

  Bloodlust. I could sense it emanating from him as I danced to the right, the tip of his dagger grazing my chest. It would be impossible to know how deep it cut; monofilaments didn’t hurt the way a typical blade did. They separated tissue at the molecular level, parting flesh before nerves could register the damage.

  I prayed it was shallow, feeling the warmth of blood running down my chest as I surged forward, battering his blade with a series of strikes. He deflected, hard enough to make my blade sing as he drew his arm back to cleave me in half. The tip of his arc barely missed my neck, sailing effortlessly through a stone column. I rolled over a table to my left as he brought the blade down, carving the corner clean off.

  My breath seized, panic hollowing my chest as my eyes caught the glint of his dagger, screaming in my direction. It caught my shoulder as I dodged, pinning me to the wall. A glance told me the blade was pointed up, it would slice away the tendons, rendering my sword-arm useless if I moved.

  No choice. He drove forward readying a downward cut. I ducked, feeling my shoulder part above the collarbone. Cool separation, followed by the warmth of blood. His blade bit into the stone wall as my own weapon clattered to the floor, leaving me defenseless. Bounding off my legs, I rammed my head into his face, sending him reeling back.

  When did he cut my head?

  Blood seeped in, trickling from my forehead and clouding my vision as he raised his arm to rend me. More blood trickled down my right hand as I struggled to hold my shoulder together. I flicked the blood-soaked fingers at his eyes, causing him to flinch as he brought the blade down. It missed me, slicing another cut into the wall as I slipped to the side.

  There was another figure in the room. I blinked away the swirl of red, trying to make out who it was just as they charged.

  “No!” I shouted, as Corin charged headfirst at my father. “He’ll kill—”

  Too late. She smashed into him like a battering ram, the impact shattering the wall as they crashed through the stone. I withdrew the co-ag from my belt, slamming the injector onto the wound and screaming as new tissue began to grow, stopping the flow of blood. Gasping, I picked up my blade before stumbling through the crater in the wall.

  Screams and dust choked the air. Several figures moved through the haze as I wiped fresh blood from my eyes, gaping as I took in the scene unfolding before me. Corin was holding her own, keeping close enough to make father’s blade useless as she deflected his strikes at the wrist. Surrounding them both were a dozen terrified onlookers, all of them completely naked, save for the few clad in leather.

  One of them made a mad dash, sprinting behind Corin for the door. Too far away to stop them, I watched as they caught a stray sweep of my father’s sword. Ear-splitting shrieks sounded from the onlookers as the runner’s body slid in half at the hip, their torso slopping loudly ahead of their lower half.

  “You sick fuck,” I said, my stomach convulsing as I noticed the nobleman laboring intensely with his hand. His eyes were transfixed on the bisected courtesan crawling away from their legs. I relieved the noble of his head, leaving his body to tumble to the floor, still clutching its privates.

  Corin was missing half her right arm, but her nanites had already sealed the wound, turning it into a stump that she used to bash my father’s face. He reeled backwards from her blows, his blade barely catching my swing as I joined the fight. I curled the shaft, sending his point cleanly under my arm as I stabbed into his thigh and twisted. He fell to his knee with a roar, turning to drive his dagger into me before Corin seized his other arm at the elbow. Both weapons clattered to the floor as she clamped down, snapping one of his bones.

  I kicked his rapier away, watching as he foamed with rage, hurling insults from where he laid.

  “I give you life and this is how you repay me?” he shouted, gesturing the room with his unbroken arm. “Murdering me in the middle of some—fucking orgy?!”

  I gave Corin a sidelong glance. He had a point; the setting lacked a certain solemnity one might expect before they meet their end.

  “Again. Who said anything about killing you?”

  Thanks again for reading! Story will resume on the 24th. Sorry again for needing to take the week off. If you have the time, please leave a review, it helps a lot. If you can't, no worries, I forgive you.

  ? An administration willing to stop at nothing to drive him out

  ? Coworkers so jaded they find hazing the new guy more entertaining than actual teaching

  ? A retention rate that is a body count

  Directive two: "teach them to fight"

  Personal Moral Imperative three: "every student must survive"

  Welcome to Dyntril Academy where survival is graduation.

  ?Found-family elements

  ?School bullying/abuse

  ?Social Stratification / classist society

  ?BATTLE SCHOOL TOURNAMENT!

  ?LitRPG elements, but no stat sheets

  ?Grimbright - Dark world, bright characters

  Monday, Wednesday, Friday

  LitRPGRuling ClassMultiple Lead CharactersStrong LeadActionAdventureFantasyRomanceAttractive LeadDystopiaFemale LeadProgressionGameLitMale LeadSchool Life