We took our seats and watched the timer tick down on the screen. Balt leaned in close, lowering his voice so only I could hear. “I thought you were going to keep the Times Two to yourself until later. Was he really that strong?”

  I shrugged. “He was fast. Very fast. And I didn’t want him slipping away and killing the others if something went sideways. He did say something interesting before he died, he claimed he had a benefactor who’d keep boosting him if he managed to beat me.”

  Balt scanned the room, making sure no one was paying too much attention to us. Then he leaned in again. “Any ideas?”

  “A few,” I said. “But let’s see how these matches go. We’ll talk more back at the Hungry Dragon, where there's less ears around.”

  He nodded and settled back into his seat as the next match began.

  A short time later…

  The rest of the matches went about as well as expected. All the top contenders won their bouts and kept their masks, though Seed Nine barely scraped through. The healers had to haul him straight to the infirmary afterward. That was how these matches went sometimes: brutal, fast, and unforgiving.

  Seed Ten looked like he was about to pass out from nerves. Hard to blame him, really. He had to face our buddy Chu at Rank Eleven, plus the rest of the top twenty breathing down his neck.

  The guy wielded dual one handed axes and had the full barbarian aesthetic, thick muscles, no armor, tattoos crawling across every inch of skin. It made the contrast even sharper that he looked like he was about to piss himself. His knees were visibly shaking as the timer ticked down and he made the long walk down the corridor.

  Honestly? I almost felt bad for him. Almost. I hoped Chu cleaned this guy’s clock.

  The moment the match started, I knew this one would be different.

  Most of the earlier fights had been predictable, groups ganging up on the top seed, quick eliminations, nothing too wild. But this one? This was a dogfight. No alliances, no clean tactics. Just raw desperation and violence.

  Chu dove straight into the chaos like he’d been born for it. He slipped under a spear thrust, grabbed the guy by the collar, and slammed him into another fighter so hard both went down in a heap. A heartbeat later he spun, heel kicking a third contender square in the jaw. Clean. Efficient. Brutal.

  Balt let out a low whistle beside me. “Damn. But look at the axe guy; he’s no joke either.”

  He wasn’t wrong.

  Seed Ten, shaking like a leaf earlier, was fighting like a man possessed. He caught a mage mid incantation and split the spell circle in half with a single axe swipe, then shoulder?checked the caster into the arena wall. Before he could breathe, an armored brute charged him. The axe?wielder roared, crossed his weapons, and parried the blow with sheer strength before chopping the guy’s legs out from under him.

  Balt leaned forward. “I’m actually impressed. Didn’t think he had that kind of power.”

  Jase folded his arms. “It’ll be between Chu and the axe?wielder soon. Everyone else in that group is a tier below.”

  And sure enough, Jase was right.

  Bodies dropped one after another until only two figures remained standing in the dust choked arena: Chu, breathing hard but grinning, and the axe?wielder, chest heaving, tattoos glowing faintly with exertion.

  They circled each other.

  Then they collided.

  Chu darted in first, landing a flurry of strikes that forced the axe?wielder back. But the barbarian?type wasn’t done, he swung one axe in a brutal arc that Chu barely dodged, then brought the second down in a diagonal chop.

  Chu blocked the first. He didn’t block the second.

  The blade bit into his arm, carving deep, almost severing it. Blood sprayed. The crowd gasped. Chu staggered, teeth clenched, but he didn’t fall.

  Instead, he stepped into the blow.

  With his good arm, he launched an uppercut that cracked against the axe?wielder’s jaw with a sound like a tree splitting. The man lifted off his feet, actually lifted and crashed to the arena floor in a limp heap.

  Unconscious.

  Match over.

  Chu swayed, clutching his ruined arm. Officials rushed in immediately, lifting him carefully and hauling him toward the infirmary.

  I exhaled slowly. “Hell of a finish,” I murmured.

  Balt nodded. “He’s gonna feel that one tomorrow.”

  Jase said nothing, just watched Chu disappear through the doors, jaw tight.

  The projection screen above the arena crackled, the last frozen frame of Chu’s defeat lingering for a heartbeat before the entire display flickered twice and went dark. The sudden quiet felt heavier without the roar of the crowd, just the hum of cooling mana conduits and the faint echo of footsteps somewhere deep in the complex.

  We waited.

  Ten minutes passed. Then fifteen. By twenty, even Balt had stopped pacing and was lazing in his chair when the side doors finally swung open.

  Guildmaster Aaron stepped inside with the calm, unhurried confidence of someone who already knew the room belonged to him. His cloak trailed behind him like a shadow, and his eyes swept over the room, measuring, weighing, approving.

  “Congratulations,” he said, voice carrying easily through the room. “All of you. You will represent Veyra well in the upcoming tournament.”

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  Balt straightened. Jase’s jaw eased, just slightly.

  Aaron continued, “I look forward to fierce competition. You’ve earned your place, so now enjoy the night. But don’t enjoy it too much. Let’s not add or subtract from the population before the tournament even begins.” A crooked smirk tugged at his mouth.

  He clasped his hands behind his back.

  “You are dismissed until the brackets can be drawn. We’ll complete them once the results from the other guilds come in.”

  He turned to leave, and every door in the arena slammed open at once.

  A surge of dark?armored soldiers poured in, boots striking the stone in perfect, unnerving unison. They fanned out with mechanical precision, lining the walls in a tight perimeter. The air shifted, thickening with the metallic scent of their armor and the sudden spike of tension.

  About to summon Ember and defend myself, I bolted up but stopped when I noticed the guild master’s calm demeanor. Aaron didn’t flinch, wasn’t panicking; he almost looked like he had expected the intrusion.

  He simply lifted one hand toward all of us and motioned for us to sit back down. I was not about to be caught flatfooted but the look he gave us was sharp enough to cut. Aaron’s voice entered my mind. “Stand down, let me handle this.”

  Reluctantly, we sank back into our seats, muscles tight, eyes locked on the encroaching soldiers as they settled into position.

  Whatever this was, it wasn’t an attack yet.

  Something unexpected was happening, and it was obvious it was not coming from the Guildmaster.

  A moment later, an old man stepped into the room. He wore fine dark silks, with a falcon clutching a crown emblazoned across his chest. Whoever he was, his presence alone sent everyone, everyone except my group that was, dropping to one knee.

  I activated Identify, and my curiosity snapped into full alert.

  Alarm bells rang the moment I saw his last name. Rave. The same as that idiot Jox. I reached out to Tucker, quickly relaying what I’d put together so he could mentally inform the others to be ready.

  The Earl’s gaze swept over me and my group, slow and disdainful, before he turned to the Guildmaster with a sneer. “Is this how your combatants behave toward royalty?”

  Aaron inhaled sharply, ready to jump in, but I rose before he could speak completely ignoring Aarons stand down order. “I can speak for myself,” I said. “I kneel to no man. It’s not Aaron’s fault I am who I am.”

  Renton Rave pivoted toward me, a cruel smile carving across his face. “Such disrespect. What makes you think I’ll allow you or your friends to walk out of here alive after your lack of respect to your betters?”

  My own smile answered him. I let everything inside me ignite, every Talent, every ounce of killing intent. My aura surged outward, unrestrained, slamming into the room like a shockwave. Soldiers lining the walls buckled first, dropping to their knees under the pressure.

  “I’ll tell you what I tell anyone who threatens me or mine,” I said, voice low and steady. “Fuck around and find out. But understand this: if blades come out, you die first. Then everyone stupid enough to stand with you will follow you to the afterlife.”

  Jase and Balt rose behind me, their power flaring as they added their weight to mine. Tucker roared out in challenge. The Earl’s confidence wavered, just a flicker, but I saw it.

  I summoned Ember, the air around me heating as it materialized, ready to strike the moment the Earl so much as twitched.

  That was when the Guildmaster’s elite guards stormed into the room, weapons drawn, armor humming with enchantments. Everyone turned to the newcomers as fifty elite guards entered the room. I kept my suppression up on the Earl’s men. Because fuck em.

  The Guildmaster rose and faced us. “Champion Riven. Champion Jase. Elite Mage Balt. Companion Tucker. Cease now. I will handle this.”

  The Guildmaster was a fair man and had been good to us, I owed him at least some time. I exhaled and pulled my aura back from the Earl’s men. A few collapsed outright; others staggered to their feet, pale and shaking. I kept every buff active, ready to snap back the moment things went sideways.

  I inclined my head toward Aaron. “Your show, Guildmaster. But if this guy spits out one more slick threat about what he’s going to do to my companions, I’ll end him here and now.”

  The Earl’s face drained of color. However he’d imagined this little stunt playing out, it clearly wasn’t this. The asshat had seriously underestimated how far I was willing to go when it came to standing up to the corrupt and the unethical.

  He’d tried to run Mei out of business. It was obvious now who had armed Lee Don with that artifact. And yes… I’d killed his son. But that bastard Jox had challenged me, then ran to get a Warlord to try to kill me. Men like Renton Rave didn’t care about context or honor; they only cared about power and revenge.

  This would never end with words. And honestly? I’d rather get this fight over with now than let him slink back into the shadows to plot and scheme.

  I stared at him, trying to bore a hole straight through his skull, half hoping he’d twitch wrong and give me an excuse.

  Aaron stepped forward and offered a slight bow, trying to redirect the Earl’s attention. “What brings on this unexpected visit, Earl Rave?”

  The Earl’s eyes stayed locked on me for a long, simmering moment before he finally turned back to Aaron.

  Without a word, he reached into his robes and produced a sealed scroll, thick parchment bound with wax stamped in the shape of a crowned dragon. Even from where I stood, the imperial authority radiating off it was unmistakable.

  He handed it to the Guildmaster with a smug little flourish. “From the Emperor’s own hand.”

  Aaron broke the red dragon seal and read. I watched his eyes widen, watched the color drain from his face. The Earl’s smile only grew sharper.

  “I’m sure you have much to prepare,” Renton said lightly. “You may inform your combatants of what they now face… assuming any of them will remain after the news.”

  He laughed high, cruel, delighted with himself.

  I narrowed my eyes. He caught the look and abruptly coughed into his hand, smothering the laugh as if he hadn’t just been reveling in it.

  The Earl turned on his heel and strode out, his men following. The soldiers who had collapsed under my aura were dragged or lifted to their feet, then marched out after him. Behind them, the heavy doors shut with a final, echoing thud.

  Silence settled.

  I looked at Aaron. The Guildmaster’s eyes were downcast, his expression grim.

  “In short…” he said quietly, “the next round will be three versus one. All the cities agreed to it, no doubt because of the Earl's influence,” he continued. “The Emperor states that because we have two System Champions this year, it’s only fair to ‘even the odds.’ Anyone may withdraw, of course, but doing so means that whoever remains in the tournament will face one extra opponent. Potentially…” He exhaled. “Some matches may be four elites against one.”

  Gasps from the other combatants filled the room. “Don't fret yet, I can make an appeal to the Emperor; we have a few days.”

  My entire party looked at one another… and then we all started laughing. Not nervous laughter, full?on, you’ve?gotta?be?kidding?me laughter. Aaron stared at us as if we’d collectively lost our minds.

  I wiped a tear from my eye. “Three?on?one? That’ll just make this whole thing go by faster. Don’t appeal. Just tell them all to bring it on.”

  Jase grinned, rolling his shoulders. “Honestly? Sounds like it’ll make for a more fun fight.”

  Balt gave one of his quiet, dangerous smiles. “A good test of my training and a new story to tell the ladies.”

  Tucker just yawned and laid back down.

  I watched the Guildmaster’s expression shift, some of the dread draining away, replaced by a flicker of hope. Maybe even pride. “They’ll load the deck in every way they can,” he warned.

  “It won’t matter,” I said, stepping closer so he could hear the certainty in my voice. “You just tell that Earl and those other cities to bring it.”