Chapter 133: Tournament [1]

The tournament was already deep into its second match by the time Alden would have arrived if he had arrived on time.

The hall rang with the sounds of it. Steel clashing and the audience reacting and the particular energy that fills a space when something real is happening inside it.

High above the battlefield on the elevated viewing platform, the ten Spires stood in observation. Ulvakor glanced at Isabella from the opposite platform. She was looking at the arena. He kept his eyes on her for a moment.

She sensed it, turned her head, and immediately looked somewhere else.

Ulvakor waited several seconds, then deliberately looked again.

Isabella turned her head completely in the opposite direction.

Dramatic grief washed across Ulvakor’s face. He pressed a hand to his chest as though something had struck him there. She’s avoiding me again.

Isabella glanced back just long enough to communicate, wordlessly and precisely: what is wrong with that weirdo? Then she looked away a second time.

Ulvakor’s heart shattered for the second time in ten seconds.

Below them, in the arena:

BOOM.

Daniel and Nathan sprang apart across the marble floor, the shockwave from their collision spreading outward in a visible ring. Daniel’s arms were entirely encased in stone armor from his fingertips to his shoulders, thick and rugged and clearly not decorative. Nathan landed with his boots scraping backward, his blade trailing a bright golden aura that hadn’t been there a week ago.

Nathan studied the stone-covered arms with narrowed eyes. "You’ve developed some interesting things."

Daniel slammed one stone fist into the other palm with a sound like two boulders greeting each other. "I’ve gotten at least ten times stronger since arriving here. The atmosphere in this place is completely different from anything below."

"Likewise," Nathan said, with confidence.

Then both of them moved.

BOOM.

Nathan’s golden blade came down hard against Daniel’s stone forearm. Sparks cascaded outward in a bright spray. Daniel answered immediately with a heavy left hook, his full weight behind it. Nathan ducked, letting the fist carry past his head, and the stone-covered knuckles hit the marble floor instead.

CRACK.

A shallow crater opened in the polished surface.

They kept going.

CLANG.

CLANG.

CLANG.

Exchanging at speed that made the individual strikes difficult to separate, Nathan pushing backward, Daniel driving forward, the rhythm building until Daniel got inside the reach and used his weight to push Nathan back toward the edge of the ring. He surged in for the finish.

Nathan stopped.

Shifted his footing.

His blade moved in a seamless counter, the angle changing in the half-second Daniel was committed to his forward momentum.

SWISH.

Daniel froze. The gleaming steel rested one breath away from his throat.

He looked at it. Then raised his hands slowly. "I surrender."

"Winner: Nathan!"

In the lower spectator section, Nicholas, Adrian, Roselle, Claire, Leon, Cecilia, and Seris watched from their seats. Seris’s eyes moved briefly to the arena and back, tracking the match without comment, while Leon was already halfway to his feet and cheering for someone.

Up on the terrace, Ulvakor scanned the entrance for the third time in two minutes.

Alarion followed his eyeline. "Where is he?"

"Where the hell is Alden?!" Ulvakor pressed a palm against his forehead. "I told him to shower and come straight back. I gave him one instruction."

"The tournament has been running for a while now," Alarion said.

"I am aware of that." Ulvakor’s voice had the controlled quality of someone deciding not to say several additional things. "If he misses his turn because he spent three hours in a bath, I am going to—"

"I’m here."

Both of them looked up.

Alden descended from the upper air with his wings fading as he landed between them, silver-golden coat settling around him, hair slightly damp at the edges.

Ulvakor’s eye twitched. "What took you that long?"

"I had things to take care of."

"People from the other Assemblies arrived before you!"

"I’m here now," Alden said, which was not an apology but was the closest thing he was willing to produce.

Ulvakor exhaled through his nose and stepped back.

Alden’s eyes had already moved to the arena floor. His expression shifted. "Wait. Is that Daniel? And Nathan?"

Alarion answered. "I selected them as replacements. The two Calyndor cadets who were sent back when they failed to reach Stage IV left two empty slots. Daniel and Nathan were the appropriate choices."

Alden nodded slowly. Then something else occurred to him. "What about Legion? He’s above both of them, right?"

"He was the first person I offered it to," Alarion said. "He refused."

Alden stared at him.

"He chose to remain at Astral Academy," Alarion said simply.

’Legion refused the Upper Academy?’

Alden turned the information over. He didn’t say anything, but it settled in his chest.

The announcer’s voice cut through before he could follow the thought further.

"The next combatants are Nicholas and Adrian!"

Down in the spectator section, both of them stood and began moving toward the arena floor.

Leon shot to his feet immediately. "Come on, Nicholas!"

Roselle cupped her hands around her mouth. "You’ve got this, Nicholas!"

Nathan and Daniel joined in from the bench. The noise level climbed.

Adrian paused on his way to the arena floor and turned toward the spectator section with one hand pressed dramatically over his heart. "Really? Nothing for me at all?"

Cecilia didn’t look at him. "Just go fight."

"How cruel," he sighed, and continued walking.

Nicholas didn’t respond to any of it. He was already at the center of the ring, and when he drew his sword, the change in the room was immediate.

SHING.

The Eternal Dragon emerged from the blade. A week ago in the Grand Selection, it had been impressive. What appeared now was noticeably more than that. The spectral form was denser, its coils wider, its presence pressing against the air of the arena in a way that said something different had been building inside Nicholas this week.

Adrian’s expression lost its playfulness for a moment. Just a moment. "I see you’ve gotten stronger." Adrian raised one hand and let a grin come back. "Ready?"

Nicholas lowered his stance. "Anytime."

"Begin!"

CLAP.

The sound hit the air.

Adrian was gone.

Nicholas’s eyes had already been moving, tracking the spots where Adrian was most likely to materialize based on distance and angle, and he still barely caught the blur in time. Adrian appeared directly in front of him, inside his guard, and his strike knocked Nicholas’s defense aside before Nicholas could fully absorb it.

The Eternal Dragon surged forward in response. Adrian backflipped clear of it and Nicholas pressed the advantage immediately, driving forward with the dragon-imbued blade in a heavy diagonal arc.

Adrian ducked.

His hands came together.

CLAP.

Gone again. He shifted left, and Nicholas turned to meet him. Cutting right, Nicholas adjusted instantly. Now he was behind.

Nicholas spun, already bringing his sword up, and caught the strike just as Adrian materialized with his blade aimed for the neck.

CLANG.

"Ackk!"

The impact rang through the arena. They stood there for one held breath, blades locked, and then Adrian pushed off and circled.

Nicholas followed with another swing.

Adrian ducked beneath the blade and spun.

CLAP.

Nicholas turned too late. Cold steel rested still against his neck.

Adrian’s grin had returned. "Match is over."