Chapter 131: The Boarding Pass

The morning air at the Northern Terminal of Sector Zero was cold and crisp, carrying the faint scent of ozone and wet mountain slate.

High above the passenger platforms, massive iron arches supported a glass canopy that reflected the pale morning sun.

Cell One stood in a loose semicircle near Platform Four, surrounded by wooden crates, leather travel trunks, weapon cases, and one suspiciously oversized duffel bag belonging to Casper.

Solene leaned against an iron support pillar, her white cape pinned with the newly minted silver crest of the Eastern Audit Directorate.

Beside her, Casper was testing the spring mechanism on his new arming-sword sheaths for what appeared to be the twentieth time.

Click.

He drew one blade halfway.

Click.

He pushed it back.

Click.

Again.

Solene finally glanced over.

"Are you expecting the sheath to assassinate you?"

Casper looked offended.

"I’m testing the mechanism."

"You’ve tested it twenty-three times."

"Twenty-four."

"That does not make it better."

"It makes it thorough."

Across from them, Lyra carefully adjusted the velvet padding inside her spatial-gem travel case.

Castor and Pollux stood on either side of the luggage pile, both wearing matching charcoal wool coats over their light plate armor.

Pollux glanced at Casper.

"Your sword sheath is functioning correctly."

"Thank you."

"You have tested it twenty-four times."

Casper frowned.

"Why does everyone know that?"

"Because you’ve been clicking it for five minutes."

Castor gave a low chuckle.

At the center of the platform, Valerian stood motionless.

His dark linen blindfold was perfectly aligned.

His leather ledger rested under his arm.

His iron stylus was tucked into the inner pocket of his wool coat.

Solene looked at him.

"Valen."

"Princess?"

"Please tell me you’ve finished packing."

"I finished three hours ago."

Casper stopped clicking.

"Three hours ago?"

"Yes."

"What did you pack?"

"Everything necessary."

"That’s not an answer."

"It is a complete answer."

"How many pairs of socks?"

"Four."

Casper stared at him.

"Four?"

"One for each day of travel."

"We’re only going to the Capital."

"The Capital contains weather."

"That’s your reasoning?"

"Weather tends to make clothing wet."

Casper slowly looked at Solene.

"Do you see what I have to deal with?"

Solene smiled.

"I’ve known him longer than you."

A high-pitched steam whistle suddenly echoed through the terminal.

TOOOT—TOOOT!

The entire platform trembled.

A sleek, three-carriage express built from polished brass and reinforced obsidian slid smoothly along the enchanted mag-rails.

Spatial stabilization runes glowed along the wheels with faint cobalt light as the carriage slowed and came to a quiet stop beside Platform Four.

Heavy iron doors slid open.

Casper grinned.

"The eight o’clock high-speed express."

He checked the enormous clock hanging above the terminal.

"On the dot."

"The Capital Transit Authority is managed by Senior Scribe Vance," Valerian said.

He reached into his coat and produced six silver boarding tokens.

"Vance penalizes late departures by two gold pieces per minute from the conductor’s personal salary. Their trains are rarely late."

Solene raised an eyebrow.

"Remind me never to cross a Senior Scribe."

"You cross them every time you submit a late expense report, Princess."

Solene’s smile disappeared.

"That was one time."

"Three."

"One."

"Three."

Casper snorted.

Lyra covered her mouth to hide a laugh.

Solene pointed at Valerian.

"You are becoming far too comfortable."

"I merely maintain accurate records."

Valerian handed the boarding tokens out one by one.

"Princess."

Solene took hers.

"Casper."

"Finally."

"Lyra."

"Thank you."

"Castor."

Castor accepted his.

"Pollux."

She took hers with a small nod.

Valerian held the final token.

"Mine."

Casper looked at him.

"You made sure to count yourself this time?"

Valerian paused.

"Yes."

"Good."

Valerian turned toward the carriage.

"Speaking of expenses—"

Casper groaned.

"No."

Valerian continued walking.

"Representative Mirain transferred two thousand gold sovereigns directly to our Capital Registry account at seven-fifteen this morning."

Lyra immediately caught up.

"Wait. Two thousand?"

"Correct."

"Did he really approve that much?"

"He approved the amount required by the Eastern Audit Directorate’s travel allocation."

Casper’s grin returned.

"How much do we have left?"

Valerian answered without hesitation.

"After deducting the tavern tab at The Black Oak, equipment repairs, boarding fees, and standard travel provisions, our net liquid balance is one thousand eight hundred and forty-two gold sovereigns."

Casper’s eyes widened.

"Eighteen hundred gold?"

He climbed the brass stairs into the carriage.

"We’re rich!"

"We are adequately capitalized for baseline operations in the Upper Tier."

Casper turned around.

"That’s just a fancy way of saying rich."

"No."

"Comfortably rich?"

"No."

"Moderately rich?"

"Casper."

"Fine."

Valerian stepped into the carriage.

"We are solvent."

Casper sighed.

"You’re impossible."

Inside, the private compartment was lined with cushioned navy velvet benches.

A wide glass window overlooked the mountain pass, while a heavy oak table was fixed securely to the floor.

Castor and Pollux stowed the team’s travel trunks in the overhead iron racks with practiced efficiency.

Casper dropped his oversized duffel beside one of the seats.

Pollux immediately picked it up.

"What’s inside?"

"Clothes."

She lifted it.

The bag nearly tore from her grip.

Pollux stared at him.

"What clothes?"

Casper smiled sheepishly.

"Battle clothes."

"You packed three spare pairs of boots."

"Boots are important."

"You packed six shirts."

"I sweat."

"You packed a whetstone."

"Obviously."

"You packed two pounds of dried meat."

Casper crossed his arms.

"Now you’re just judging me."

Pollux looked at Valerian.

"His luggage weighs thirty-seven percent more than the team’s average."

Valerian nodded.

"Expected."

Casper looked betrayed.

"You knew?"

"I calculated it."

"Of course you did."

Everyone took their seats.

Solene sat by the window opposite Valerian.

Castor and Pollux took the seats closest to the door.

Lyra placed her spatial-gem case carefully on the table.

Casper dropped into the remaining seat.

The carriage doors closed with a heavy metallic THUD.

A moment later, the express began moving.

The terminal slowly slipped backward.

Then faster.

Within seconds, the stone arches of Sector Zero blurred past the window, replaced by sweeping pine-covered mountain cliffs.

Lyra stared outside.

"We’re actually leaving."

Casper leaned toward the glass.

"How long until we reach the Capital?"

"Approximately thirty-six hours," Valerian answered.

Casper groaned.

"That sounds longer when you say it."

"It remains the same duration."

"Can you stop making everything sound worse?"

"No."

Solene laughed softly.

Lyra unrolled a thick parchment map across the oak table.

"All right. Before we spend the entire journey arguing about money, let’s discuss the Capital."

Casper leaned forward.

"Finally."

Lyra tapped the map.

"This is the Central Spire."

A massive illustration showed the Capital’s towering inner district, surrounded by concentric walls and elevated transit lines.

"The Grand Trial takes place here."

She pointed to a large circular structure beneath the High Court.

"The Sunken Arena."

Castor studied the map.

"How many teams?"

"Sixteen district winners," Solene answered.

"Each district sends its highest-ranked surviving team into the Capital bracket."

Casper nodded.

"So we’re one of sixteen."

"Correct."

"Who’s first?"

Solene tapped another marker.

"The Iron Vanguard from Sector One."

"Names?"

"Not yet."

Casper frowned.

"Not yet?"

"The Capital hasn’t released the full bracket."

"That’s inconvenient."

Valerian looked up from his ledger.

"It is intentional."

Everyone looked at him.

Casper blinked.

"Of course you have an explanation."

"The Capital prefers combatants to enter without complete intelligence on their opponents."

Lyra nodded slowly.

"To prevent excessive preparation?"

"Exactly."

Casper pointed at Valerian.

"Which means your entire habit of researching everyone is technically against the spirit of the tournament."

Valerian’s expression remained calm.

"Technicalities are the foundation of civilization."

Pollux nodded.

"I agree."

Casper looked between them.

"Why do you two keep agreeing with each other?"

"Because we’re correct," Pollux replied.

Casper leaned back.

"I already miss Sector Zero."

Solene tapped another mark on the map.

"Sector Three sent House Vane’s shadow cell."

"House Vane?" Casper asked.

"The poison specialists?"

"They specialize in silent neutralization, spatial traps, and assassination-oriented formations."

"Sounds pleasant."

"Their captain is Kaelen Vane."

Valerian’s stylus stopped.

"Kaelen Vane."

Solene noticed.

"You know him?"

"No."

"Then why did you repeat his name?"

"I was recording it."

Casper grinned.

"Of course."

Solene continued.

"He finished his second tier at nineteen. He’s meticulous, arrogant, and extremely well-funded."

"Sounds like anyone we know?" Casper asked, glancing toward Valerian.

Valerian ignored him.

"Kaelen Vane favors unpredictable kinetic surges to disrupt opponents," he said calmly.

Lyra stared.

"How do you know that?"

"His combat logs."

"You’ve seen them?"

"They’re public record."

"When?"

"While we were waiting for the train."

Casper stared at him.

"You researched our potential enemies before we even boarded?"

"Yes."

"How many?"

"Seven."

The compartment went silent.

Casper slowly lowered his head.

"Seven?"

"Seven."

Castor chuckled.

"You’re enjoying this."

"No."

Valerian turned a page.

"Kaelen Vane’s margins are inefficient. He overspends his mana reserves during the first four minutes of combat."

Pollux leaned forward.

"Which means?"

"He becomes weaker as the battle continues," Valerian said.

Pollux’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

"His left-side spatial sweep?"

"Still present."

She nodded.

"Then if I pressure his right flank, he’ll instinctively retreat toward his left."

"Which places him directly within Castor’s hammer arc."

Castor smiled.

"Convenient."

"Precisely."

Casper pointed at Valerian.

"You’ve already planned how to beat a man you’ve never met."

"No."

Valerian calmly drew a line through his notes.

"I’ve planned how to exploit his documented habits."

Solene smiled.

"We haven’t even arrived in the Capital."

She looked at the twins.

"And you’ve already assigned them positions."

Valerian nodded.

"Preparation is not a luxury."

He drew another line.

"It is the primary operational cost."

A soft chime suddenly rang from the brass speaker above the compartment door.

DING-DONG.

"Attention passengers," a calm voice announced.

"The high-speed express is now entering the Spatial Transit Tunnel. External pressure will drop slightly for forty seconds. Please remain seated."

Casper immediately grabbed the edge of his seat.

"Why did that sound ominous?"

"It isn’t," Valerian said.

The bright daylight outside dissolved.

Violet and silver light flooded the window as the train plunged into the mountain tunnel.

The entire world seemed to stretch.

For one breathtaking moment, the mountain outside became a swirling river of compressed space.

Lyra pressed her palm against the glass.

"It’s beautiful."

Casper stared beside her.

"Okay."

He smiled.

"That’s actually incredible."

Solene watched the shifting colors.

"First time in a spatial express?"

"For me, yes."

Castor leaned back.

"Second."

Pollux nodded.

"Third."

Casper looked at them.

"You two have traveled this way before?"

"We were deployed across three border territories," Castor replied.

"Spatial transit was faster."

Casper looked at Valerian.

"And you?"

Valerian remained seated with his hands folded over his ledger.

"I’ve used faster methods."

Everyone turned toward him.

Solene narrowed her eyes.

"Faster than a spatial express?"

Valerian paused.

"Yes."

"What methods?"

"Private military transport."

"How fast?"

"Fast enough."

Casper groaned.

"That’s not an answer."

"It answered the question."

Lyra giggled.

Solene shook her head.

"Just enjoy the view for five minutes, Scribe."

Valerian turned toward the window.

"The mana-stones required to maintain this tunnel cost twelve hundred gold per run."

Solene closed her eyes.

"I knew you couldn’t do it."

Casper laughed.

"He’s incapable of enjoying anything without calculating its cost."

Valerian’s lips curved into an almost imperceptible smile.

"I am enjoying it."

"Really?"

"Yes."

He looked toward the swirling violet light.

"The transit efficiency ratio is remarkably high."

Casper burst out laughing.

"You are hopeless."

The train continued deeper into the Spatial Transit Tunnel.

The vibration beneath their feet remained steady.

Outside, the violet and silver vortex stretched endlessly ahead.

Solene rested her hand comfortably against the pommel of her rapier.

"Get some rest, everyone."

She looked around the compartment.

"When we burst out of this tunnel, we’ll be in the Capital."

Her gaze settled on Valerian.

"And that’s where the real audit begins."

Valerian closed his ledger.

"Then everyone should rest while the numbers are still favorable."

Casper leaned back against the velvet cushion.

"Thirty-six hours."

He sighed.

"Please tell me at least some of them are actually free."

Valerian considered this.

"Three."

Casper smiled.

"Good."

"Provided you spend them sleeping."

Casper’s smile disappeared.

"Never mind."

The others laughed as the high-speed express vanished deeper into compressed space, carrying Cell One toward the Capital—and whatever waited beneath the High Court.