Adrenaline sang in Gray’s veins. In a very real sense, this was the first fight of his life. With Rynn, it had been rough sparring, but this was something completely different. He was going up against a highly-trained monster. The gladiators talked about the song of the sword, where their souls sang out with anticipation, fear and a strange kind of joy. When your next breath might be your last, it tasted so sweet.

  Before, in the Battle Royale, Gray would’ve died if the Carter gambit hadn’t kept him alive. Poor Carter. This time, though, was different. Gray wasn’t fighting for his life, only respect, and yet, Freek could kill him. Gray wasn’t going to let that happen. He’d spent his life watching gladiators defend themselves. He’d heard Master Kreef’s lessons, over and over and over. He could do this.

  Gray chose a short sword and a buckler. Freek chose the same. Rynn had tried to convince them to use bloodless blades, but Freek laughed that away. Gray was glad. He didn’t want to anyone to know how limited his core was. That meant using real weapons.

  The orcs were all sneering, laughing, commenting on how short and skinny Gray was. They called him noodle arms, and Freek only grinned. “If we chop one off, we can see if Gorgonzola has a gravy to do with it. Sorry, Gray, but you picked the wrong day to fight me. Drank too much last night, and I’m feeling salty today.” Freek spat into the sand. “I’ll blood you, Gray. Then I’ll blood your girlfriend.”

  Rynn stood in the middle of the pavilion, frowning. “No mana. Just sword and buckler. If I think you used mana, the fight is over, and you lose.”

  “How would you know if I was using mana, elf?” Freek asked.

  All the chummy happy Third Barracks brotherhood feelings were gone. Freek was in this fight to win, and he was trying to get into their heads. Back in the Cradleport Arena, it had been the same. Everyone was friends until the fight began. Like with Carter. Poor Carter.

  “I’ll know,” Gray said. “I can see mana.”

  Freek grunted laughter. “No you can’t. that impossible.”

  “No mana,” Rynn’s voice was firm. “Since I’m the proctor in this fight, I’ll begin with one of the proctor litanies we use in the Crown. Repeat after me. ‘By instincts strong and mana bright, first blood drawn will win the fight!’”

  Both Gray and Freek put their swords against their chests and repeated her words. “By instincts strong and mana bright, first blood drawn will win the fight!’”

  “Fight!” Rynn shouted.

  Gray dashed forward, striking out first. Hitting Freek’s sword, over and over, felt good. His heart felt like it was made of iron. Every muscle was tense. He’d just run nearly five miles, but after months of exercise, it was like the more he did the more he could do. The fight was just another workout.

  Freek went to bash in Gray’s face with his buckler, but Gray danced back. He wasn’t weight down by muscle. He kept his weight on both feet, perfectly balanced. That initial attack had put Freek on his back foot, but Gray knew it had been a mistake. He’d lost control, the greatest sin he could make, because the fight—as well as all of life—was all about mastering himself.

  Freek grunted. “It was a good attack, boy, but not good enough. Are you ready to bleed?”

  “You first, Freek. I’m curious to see what color your blood is. Are you sure you aren’t a cambion? Maybe your mother went to the Weeping Well looking for something your father couldn’t give her. No, couldn’t be. You don’t fight like you’re half-demon.”

  That made the other orcs laugh and hoot.

  Freek let out a howl and attacked. Of course insulting his mother would make him lose control. Gray was rather bored by how easily he could manipulate these orcs. It was easy, since words had been his only weapon for most of his life.

  Gray knew that Freek was too far gone to think, and so he would react on instinct. Gray feinted with his sword, like he was going to strike the furious orc’s arm, but instead he hammered his sword into the orc’s leg, striking it with the flat instead of the blade. It was a good smack, but it didn’t draw blood.

  Freek struck at Gray, and he was able to parry the attack with his shield, but then Freek backhanded Gray with his buckler and Gray felt the world narrow down to the simple feeling of his nose breaking. Blood gushed down over his lips.

  He was on the sand, and he knew he would be spending the next several days picking sand out of his hair. Bleeding on the sand wasn’t new to him. He also knew that he couldn’t stay down. No, this was about pride and respect.

  Gray leapt to his feet.

  Rynn stood between them. “Freek wins. First blood has been drawn.”

  Gray spit into the dirt. His nose was throbbing, his whole face was on fire, but that could be healed. He had to continue to play the game. “He didn’t cut my skin with his sword. A little nosebleed doesn’t count.”

  Freek bellowed laughter until his whole body was shaking. “I like this guy. You know, Gray, if you were better with a sword, you might’ve won. Only gave me a bruise in the end. The fight is over, and I won. Deal with it. Now I want to make the angel head bleed. You shouldn’t have cut your hair, girl. You just aren’t as pretty.”

  “I’m not here to be pretty,” Rynn shot back. She walked over and chose a long sword from the rack. She turned. “I want to spar, full mana, and let’s fight to either first blood or first ground.”

  Freek nodded, sticking his short sword into the ground, so he could adjust his buckler. “Okay. I like first ground, especially with a little girl like you. You don’t think you can get me down, do you? I outweigh you by a hundred pounds if not more.”

  Rynn stood with her chin raised. “My sword is not my weapon. My body is not my weapon. My soul is my weapon. Shall we compare the weight of our souls, Fenrik Rabbia?”

  “Souls don’t weigh a thing.” The orc pulled his sword from the sand. “But I take your point. You proctored my fight with Gray, but I don’t think he’s up for the job right now. Kabe, come on proctor my fight with this little girl.”

  One of the orcs came forward. He had a scar across his face. He was taller than Freek, and thicker, muscles like ropes. “That’s fine, Freek. I can oversee the fight. There won’t be many rules. It’s first blood and any blood counts. And it’s first ground and we know how that works.”

  Gray wiped more blood off his face. “I don’t know what it means.”

  If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  Kabe grinned, showing a bright golden tooth. “So the person who gets knocked down first, even if it’s a knee, loses. Your girlfriend is only about the size of loaf of bread. Freek is going to eat her up but good.”

  Freek laughed. “I love bread, but I’ll try not to hurt her too much.”

  Rynn didn’t respond. She stood with her long sword, yellow light radiating out of her core.

  Freek circled her, and she moved with him, turning as he walked. “Why did you cut your hair? Ashamed of who you are?”

  Still, Rynn didn’t say a word.

  Kabe walked onto the sand. “I’ll proctor, and I have a salute, something we said in Wrath City all the time, back when we had our Pylon.”

  “Wait,” Freek said. “I want to know why she’s not talking? Maybe she’s scared.”

  Gray laughed. “She’s not scared. You should be scared, Freek. She only gets quiet when she’s mad. That was your mistake. You’re in for it now.”

  Freek shrugged and kept circling her, and Rynn walked opposite of him. “Salty talk is part of the game, Rynn. If you had such fancy teachers, you’d know that. Good. I got in your head. I’ll win easy. You can’t scare me away with your eyes.”

  Gray knew all about salty talk. Back in Cradleport, they called it crap talk, but it was the same thing. All the gladiators said the fight started way before anyone started swinging a sword. Sometimes the fight started days before, when the crap talk began. If you could make your enemy lose sleep at night, thinking about what you said, you had already won. What happened in the arena was just icing on the cake.

  It all went back to self-mastery. When it was time to fight, you fought. When it was time to sleep, you slept. You mastered your head instead of your head mastering you. There, both Master Kreef and Blind John agreed.

  They kept circling each other when Freek broke first. “Okay, Kabe, you might as well…”

  Rynn erupted. “You made all that noise, night after night, when you knew we were sleeping. I got up early, trying to be quiet, in hopes you’d realized what insensitive donkeys you were being. But you didn’t care. And you tripped Gray because you didn’t care. You’re all the same, proud young orcs without much sense, in a squad already because being alone scares you all so much. But alone, you wouldn’t have been so inconsiderate. Alone, you wouldn’t have tripped Gray. But together, trying to outdo each other? It only adds to your meanness. When I win this fight, I expect no noise after eleven. I expect you’ll respect us, and if you don’t, we’ll come back, and I’ll beat the daylights out each and every one of you. Shame on you for being mean. I’m sure your mothers would also feel shame for raising such impolite brutes. Now, Kabe, say your salute, so I can get on with my day. I have more important things to do than kicking your ass.”

  Freek grinned, his tusks gleaming with spit. “There’s the chatterbox we hear sometimes, you and your little boyfriend. Come, elf. Come and take your licking.”

  Rynn growled, “If you had more sense you’d be more ashamed of your manners. Let me see if I can beat some into you.”

  “Make up your mind. Are you going to beat sense into me or are you going to beat the daylights out of me. Can’t be both.”

  Rynn stopped circling. She went still, and Gray could both see and feel the mana building up inside her. It was like she was a walking bonfire.

  “Say the salute,” Gray said to Kabe.

  “Sword raised in wrath, souls rest in patience, fight to first blood or first ground. Strength all around.”

  Holding their swords to their chests, both Rynn and Freek repeated the words.

  “Fight!” Kabe roared.

  Rynn stood waiting. Freek roared and charged, bashing at her again and again with his sword. The clang of metal on metal filled the air.

  Rynn, though, was far more nimble, and she struck aside his sword with hers, dancing back until she was on the edge of the sands. Her weapon gave her reach, but she couldn’t manage to get through his defenses.

  Kabe laughed. “If she leaves the sand, she loses.”

  Rynn obviously knew that. She tried to dash by Freek, but the orc smacked her with his buckler. She nearly went down, but at the last moment, her body lit up with mana as her speed increased and so did her agility. In a gorgeous display of athleticism, she hurled herself into the air. She came down, and again, and immediately had to block a series of attacks. Every muscle glowed with mana. Even though she was tiny, she was matching his attacks using her mana, keeping herself safe.

  But it was only going to last only so long.

  Freek roared and filled his sword arm with mana. He crashed his blade down on hers, and it was too much for her. Her sword went flying.

  She went to dash to get it, but Freek had her. He went to slice into her arm, but she dodged his sword. The orc slammed his buckler into her side, and she grunted, almost went down, but stayed on her feet. Barely.

  Gray could still feel her core, though it was growing colder, since she was running out of mana.

  He inhaled, and thought about what it felt like before, when they’d been in their room, after the bullies attacked them. He’d been able to push mana into her core, and since he could feel her, he tried to do it again.

  The double-chocolate ironbite had been so good that morning. And she was eating whole ones. Her core was healthy, and so accessible. He exhaled, focusing on her core. He felt the magic flow out.

  He called to her. “You know what to do, Rynn.”

  Freek roared and attacked.

  Without her sword, she looked tiny compared to the fully armed monster in front of her.

  Until she vented her core.

  The blast knocked Freek off his feet. He slammed down onto his back, gasping. Kabe was thrown against three other orcs, and they all fell. One of the gazebo’s posts cracked.

  Rynn hurried forward and slammed her foot into Freek’s side. She barely had any mana, so it wasn’t like her kick was magical. Still, she was strong. It had to hurt.

  Kabe got to his feet. “Match is called. Rynn wins. The wrath is done, and now is the time for patience, healing, and meditation. What was that attack?”

  Freek got up, laughing. “That was some Nephilim elf magic. By my father’s rage, that was a blow. You’re going to have to tell Mama Cinders about the gazebo. That was all you.”

  Freek put out a hand.

  Rynn looked at it suspiciously. Like before, there were dark circles under her eyes. She looked like she might drop at any moment.

  Gray knew that Freek and his boys would be quiet here on out. They’d earned their respect, at least for now.

  Gray nodded at the elf. “It’s okay, Rynn.”

  Rynn took the orcs hand.

  Rynn eyes were still icy. “Quiet time is between eleven and seven. Be as loud as you want outside those hours. Do you understand?’

  Freek nodded. “I understand.” He turned to address his two squads. “Any of you cross her and Gray, you’ll have to deal with me. Quiet hours are between eleven and seven. Now, that was a fucking fight!”

  The orcs started chanting, “Fucking fight! Fucking fight! Fucking fight!”

  But by that time, Gray and Rynn were walking away. Rynn didn’t stumble until they were out of sight. Gray was there to catch me.

  “You did good, Miss Yes,” Gray said.

  “Only because of you, Mr. No.”

  “What did I do? I lost my fight. I’m just glad you won yours.”

  Rynn sighed. “That victory was as much yours as it was mine. You do see that, don’t you?”

  “No, it was your core.”

  “But you were the one to fill it.”

  Gray knew better than to argue with her. They found two metal chairs under a tree, facing each other. Like before, they held hands. Gray found her core, but it was even more empty than it had been before. He too didn’t have much mana left. If only he had a resonance, he could find some way to fill it.

  “If you need to kiss me, Miss Yes, I would understand.”

  Rynn smiled at him wearily. Instead of saying a word, she leaned forward and pressed her forehead against his. At first, he stiffened. Were they going to kiss?

  “It’s okay, Mr. No,” she said softly. “Kissing isn’t necessary. Let me just feel you here with me. In the fight, I didn’t think I could win, and then, I felt you nearby, and I knew as long as we’re together, there’s no battle we can’t win.”

  Gray relaxed and felt the energy passing between their exhausted cores. Even though he felt empty, Rynn sighed. “You have an ocean inside of you. I can’t believe…never mind.”

  He knew what she was going to say. She was wondering why he didn’t have a resonance. She was also probably wondering why he couldn’t use his massive core to find enchant items or to fuel his muscles. It was a fair question, but it might not matter. As long as he stayed conscious in a fight, he could use give her his magic, and they could win any fight.

  She had the drive and determination to be the best, and so did he. One more time, they were showing First Field that it wasn’t wise to tease a couple of snarling mad dogs.

  Soon, she withdrew from him, but by that time, she was smiling and laughing. Gray laughed along with her, but to be honest, he missed her touch and her heat. And yet, he knew it wasn’t meant to be. He didn’t trust that he could bind his soul to multiple women, and why would he want that? It sounded stifling and complicated.

  He didn’t want love. He wanted to get back to Ruin Manor in Old Town. To do that, he needed to take the Widow Stone’s scarf back to the alley in the Pit Market. He wasn’t going to wait a second longer.