The soldiers fell still and silent, yet charged, like static electricity, when Tyler declared his intention to fight Rikland. Even the most rambunctious of soldiers—threatening riots mere moments before—stood straight, arms sleeved with goosebumps.

  Ikala was the only one who wasn’t watching with rapt attention—he was furious. Tyler had just ruined his narrative of Wraithwood nepotism by declaring he was going to handle his issues man-to-man instead of running to Mira.

  Rickland glanced at Ikala and back, blanch-faced and confused. “What did you just say?” he asked.

  “I said that I’m going to beat your ass.” Tyler glanced at Sarah’s trembling face. “You’ve been harassing Sarah for months. Everyone knows. God knows, everyone fucking knows. You know why they know? Because I’ve been complaining about it nonstop. I’ve destroyed my reputation complaining about it. I’ve been called a tyrant and a nepotist because of it. But I kept doing it. You know why? Because you’re fucking with my girl!”

  Rickland and Ikala looked to General Ikina, but Malo had put up his hand, and her face turned suspiciously constipated and conflicted. She would’ve intervened—but he was Mira’s brother—and he had the soldiers’ momentum.

  “And you all it let happen!” Tyler took his first step forward. “You’ve let this scumbag break your social laws and norms to pick on a kid. And that kid had to just take it—let his partner get terrorized by the lowest of you.”

  Some soldiers sneered, others looked away guiltily.

  “Well, that ends today!” Tyler yelled. “Last night, I finally closed the strength gap. And so here I am—coming to collect, asshole.”

  Rickland laughed. “Closed the gap? You’re…” The sass in his voice fizzled out when he saw Tyler’s core. “This is ridiculous. Hey guys, take a look! This is what nepotism gets you in Wraithwood!”

  As if it were an afterthought, most soldiers activated divination techniques and saw Tyler’s chest glowing like a shining star. Tyler didn’t have a Kyfer core, but he spent years inhaling mana cores that would sell for hundreds of thousands of hawks. He had a ridiculous core.

  “No,” Tyler said. “Nepotism is how you got here. Trigan hired you because Kai had humiliated your useless family, and they were threatening to cause trouble for Heath and Roe. I mean, really, do you see anyone else here is worried about getting their ass beat by a first ev?”

  There certainly were some. One hundred of the Wraiths, military and otherwise, were strategic political hires. Such people weren’t that valuable for their strength, but they came with statecraft value and alliance benefits, much like having a princess married into another kingdom. Those people were shitting bricks as they looked at Tyler.

  The other group wary of him was the true elites, those who could see that he had closed the gap and then some. Tyler’s core didn’t have the amplification properties, but it didn’t matter. In terms of raw power, his attacks were amplified. Tyler’s evolution had made him incomparably stronger than before—stronger than most second evs, in terms of raw output.

  “You’re not a first ev,” Rickland said warily, redrawing in the narrative. “Anyone who looks at you can see that.”

  “Huh?” Tyler looked from Rickland to the others with faux amazement. “Are you implying that I’m strong? That’s funny—according to you lot, I’m a nepo baby who hasn’t worked a day of hard labor in my life.”

  “That’s not how power works.”

  “Oh, yes, it is. Or are you implying that you, an elite soldier from the prestigious Loklan family, would get your shit rocked by an untrained spoon-feeder? You really think that a nepo baby could…” Tyler failed his hands around erratically. “Even land a hit on someone as skilled and worthy as you?”

  The soldiers grinned and exchanged glances.

  Tyler had all the momentum. While it was true that his core was special, having a core meant nothing if someone didn’t know how to land a hit. It’d be like a normal kid in a small mecha robot—they didn’t know how to pilot—trying to box a grizzly bear. All that power would mean nothing, and they’d still end up losing. Guaranteed.

  That’s why Rickland and the haters were in a rough spot. They had to choose: Was Tyler an unskilled worm being spoon-fed power? Or was he a trained fighter catching up? It couldn’t be both.

  Rickland sneered and looked around.

  “Plus, I evolved like… eight hours ago,” Tyler said. “I haven’t even tested out this core. Are you really going to say that you’re afraid of an arrogant leech who got a shiny new sword yesterday?”

  Rickland glowered at him, hatred and vitriol in his eyes.

  “Well, guess what, Rickland?” Tyler said, mockery freezing in a malevolent tundra. He lifted his hand and closed his digits one by one. “I don’t have a shiny sword, and I really don’t care if you think this fight’s fair. You’re going to throw up your hands. ‘Cause right or wrong, lawful or not, I’m not leaving here until your teeth look like shrapnel.”

  Stolen novel; please report.

  Ecstatic soldiers snarled and whooped and roared like wild animals, dragging in all of the haters as well. Everyone wanted to see this fight. Everyone—but Rickland, Ikala, and his friends.

  Sarah looked at Tyler pleadingly, but he gently smiled at her. “Don’t worry. If I couldn’t beat this bitch ass poser, I deserve to get—”

  Rickland threw a sucker punch—but it was sloppy. Almost comically sloppy. It was a wide-open haymaker that left his entire head and body exposed in a grand all-or-nothing gamble attack. Tyler stepped back, confused, trying to analyze whether what he was seeing was a trap. But since he couldn’t conceive a universe where it was clever to fly at someone face-first, he did what felt obvious—he jabbed the man in the nose.

  It was a quick punch, but it had far more power than Tyler could’ve imagined. He felt Rickland’s nose bend unnaturally as the man stumbled backward and hit the ground.

  “What the fuck was that?” Rickland asked as the crowd roared their approval.

  “What was that?” Tyler asked, aggressively bewildered. “That’s what I want to know! You came at me face-first. What the hell was I supposed to do? Kiss you?”

  Rickland winced under the mocking jeers from the crowd, and he turned back. “I’m going to kill you.”

  “Oh, you are? Are you going to put up your hands first?”

  Tyler owned the crowd now. Most were yelling simple things like, “Get ‘em, kid!” But some people had more nuanced cries like, “This won’t make me like you… But I’ll respect your ass!”

  Rickland hated it. The shame. The humiliation. It was written on his face. Tyler could tell the man wanted to charge like a bull, but he wisely stood and threw up his hands.

  Then the battle began.

  The two circled around each other slowly, throwing feints. And all the while, Tyler felt comfortable, annoyed even. He couldn’t help but wish his shirt were off and there was money on the line.‘Cause what the cheering animals behind him didn’t know was that in a battle involving magic, Tyler would get vaporized. But bare-handed martial arts and proper threading were the only two things Kalas taught him for two… fucking… years. This man didn’t stand a chance.

  Rickland threw a jab—Tyler blocked.

  Rickland threw a leg kick, but Tyler blocked it with his shin and slapped him. Slapped him. He felt like he was toying with a child. He wanted a real fight. He wanted to know how far Kalas and Malo had taken him despite giving him the illusion that he was fated to be useless.

  “Stop fucking with me!” Rickland yelled. He charged, throwing a flurry of punches. Jab, uppercut, haymaker, Superman. He was desperate. And with all of the Nearan meat Tyler had eaten over the years, the attacks came slowly, and he could think of three ways to respond to each attack, as if he were playing physical chess.

  Strike here, have him block, hit him in the side, twist, uppercut.

  Without realizing it, Tyler took the opportunity to train, letting the man kick and punch and even let Rickland hit him. But it didn’t feel like he was learning anything aside from how worthless Rickland was. So, with self-respect in mind, he decided to end it.

  “Must be nice! To have the best food! The best teachers! The best—”

  Tyler hit Rickland in the jaw so hard that it cracked before the man rolled onto the ground.

  There was an initial piercing cheer from the soldiers, and then it calmed when Tyler approached Rickland, who was groaning and clutching his broken jaw on the ground. Once he towered above the man, the crowd fell silent to hear his words.

  “I don’t give a fuck,” Tyler said. “Hardian, Brexton, Kal. All of you family members were given advantages that far outstripped normal people. Hell, your entire society is built on nepotism. And then you come to Wraithwood for six months, a land that wants to get rid of that shit, and you bitch, piss, and moan about it? You fuckers don’t deserve what you have here!”

  The crowd fell silent, and tensions flared again.

  “You don’t!” Tyler snapped, turning to the soldiers. “You all came from families that enslaved your sorry asses, abused you, and hated you, and for what? Meager power? Well, now you’re under the wing of someone, who in just four years, is set to outstrip the Dante family in power. You’re free. And you will get resources beyond anything that normal people could hope for. It’s real fuckin’ hard when you can’t leave camp for six months, but it’s coming. You have it made. And most importantly… if you were in Thoevale.” He glowered at Rickland. “You’d be fucking dead!” He punted Rickland’s ribs so hard they shattered as the man flew across the ground. Tyler then swung back to the soldiers and started pointing them out. “And you, and you, and you! How many of you would’ve fucked with a Dante boy? None of you fuckers! You know why you did it to me? ‘Cause you’re free, you pieces of shit! ‘Cause you have civil rights! ‘Cause you’re being inadvertently lead by a war legend who doesn’t want me to end up like you people! You were handed things most people would die for, and it only took three months for you to abuse it.”

  Rickland screamed so loud it was killing Tyler’s vibe, so he pointed at a healer and then at Rickland. “Heal him. But not his jaw.” The healer did as commanded, and the soundscape calmed down.

  “You’re stuck here, I get it. My first year, I felt useless. I couldn’t leave camp. I couldn’t kill my own beasts. Mira was giving me everything. But guess what, I helped build this place and I got rewarded Poison Sense—a diamond reward—for doing it. And you all will, too. You’re on a chain quest to protect this forest. You’re going to get rewarded handsomely for doing your part. And once you do, you’ll be able to leave and hunt—become powerful.

  “But until then, you’re fucking useless. You haven’t done shit but eat and build your own shelters, and you expect more? More? Do you know how insane that is? There’s twelve hundred people here, and you all got a core. You do understand you’re asking Mira to hunt a thousand more beasts just to get a second one, right? The fuck’s wrong with you?”

  Soldiers turned away, guilt and confusion written on their faces.

  “You’re elite soldiers. How the hell did none of you figure that out?” He scanned their faces, and then the absurdity hit him like a brick. For about twenty seconds, he thought through it, and then, seeing the sheer sheepish guilt on some of the soldiers’ faces, he suddenly understood.

  “You already knew that…. You all knew how ridiculous your demands were, but…” His eyes landed on Ikala. “You want more, don’t you?”

  An oppressive silence passed through the area, cutting out everything but Rickland moaning as Tyler, Malo, and the Dante stared at Ikala. He was surrounded by trembling eyes, many soldiers realizing that the propaganda they were being fed was leading to an end they weren’t aligned with.

  Ikala looked around and sighed, standing from the stump he sat on. He made eye contact. “You know, this would’ve been so much easier if everyone was in political agreement. But since you fucked that up, I suppose we’ll do this the classic way—with raw force.”

  https://www.royalroad.com/amazon/B0DPJDRPWH