The entire chamber went still at the declaration. After a few moments that seemed to go forever, Reigan cleared his throat, turning to Ruben after being wide-eyed at Joran, shocked at the turn of events.

“As the prime culprit that is now considered guilty of treason, she stands to face judgement. Do you accept the terms of the Soma Lum?”

Ruben looked at Reigan as if he was insane, then looked over to Brandy, who had started to animate again, looking up to him and giving a nod with a faint smile, saying something quietly to him that no one else could hear, and then giving a sinister smile towards Audra.

Ruben frowned, his brows creased as he turned back to Joran and waved him off before shaking his head, “Fine. Brandy must answer this challenge, but heed me, Joker. If you lose on this day, you will offer your head as penance for the crimes you’ve committed while my people are cleansed of these blanket accusations.”

Furtive murmurs broke out once more, as Joran nodded without hesitation, now flinging his tippet off before settling back into form, “Fine. If I win, your people will suffer that fate as you’ve so earnestly stated. Come then, Brandy. I will avenge the deaths I’ve seen by your hand.”

Finally, Brandy came forward, brandishing her sickles as she rounded the table calmly, before smugly looking straight into Joran’s eyes for the first time, “Hah. With your deeds done in Inven, you want to try to fight me too? Let’s settle this then, you brat of Idaten.”

Joran’s vision suddenly went red as Brandy taunted him, standing across from him in the center, in her own red emblazoned suit. Rage addled, he surged forward with his Dao, heavily thudding into her main sickle as she grunted at the impact. They held the impasse for a moment before Brandy swiped concisely with her other sickle, forcing Joran to take a step back before she did the same.

“Heh, can’t even wait?”

Joran didn’t respond as he began an onslaught of strikes and slashes that were wide and wild on her, she barely parried them as they began to cut close to her body, cutting bits of her suit off. Joran’s own suit had already been ripped once or twice from his movements, but he didn’t care. Brandy moved backwards slowly, methodically rounding the center as they fought, moving by the leaders, who were watching the spar. The duel that had wound up becoming the centerpiece of the Assembly.

After a barrage of attacks, Brandy did a leg sweep, knocking Joran down for a split second before he was seen back on his feet, utilizing Sovereign Step, the very first bit of the Sovereign Arts he used the first time, as he did a heavy downward swing, which Brandy blocked with both of her sickles this time, being forced down onto one knee as she gave a frown while grunting in resistance, her eyes wide with surprise.

“… It’s only been two weeks! How?”

Joran’s voice belied his lack of empathy for Brandy as he finally spoke coldly, “Two weeks of constantly being pushed. Two weeks of seeing the ugly truth,” He kicked her in the gut, shoving her several feet away as she started coughing, “Two weeks of suffering wrought by you and yours truly.”

She spat out a bit of blood, and wiped her mouth as she chuckled to herself knowingly, “The Realm has been wrought with suffering long before any of us were here.”

“As if you have any right to make that judgement.”

In a flash, Joran closed the distance and slammed his hilt into Brandy’s side, as she now barreled into the wall of the concave, between Idaten and Jura, flopping down. She was now breathing heavily as she looked back at Joran, shock increasingly supplanting her indifference from before. She shakily stood up, and took a deep breath in, as Joran could faintly feel a change in the air. He readied his Dao at a defensive angle, his stance now closed inwards as he watched her exhale the breath she took and looked at him, with glowing red eyes as she closed the distance at an incredibly faster pace than before.

Drekor couldn’t help himself as he called out, “Guardian’s Calling!”

Most of the leaders weren’t surprised as she triggered the ultimate trump card of the Bloodhounds. The truth of their Arts laid in suffusing power from blood and its scent, as well as the number of Beasts that surrounded them. Guardian’s Calling bypassed the numbers requisite, offering the wielder their maximum combat prowess and speed, at the cost of burning through their own blood.

Now, Joran could feel her sickles bludgeon against his Dao when she lunged, as he started taking measured steps backwards, keeping his eyes focused on her as he parried and retaliated with his own hyper-speed strikes that she deflected. The air around them grew turbulent, wind picking up and blowing away some papers that the Leaders had and ignored, now completely affixed on the Soma Lum. Joran felt his Dao get snagged in a slash, Brandy using the inside of her sickle to twist it in his hand awkwardly, as she kicked Joran into the wall on the other side, between Suekamikou and Cael.

Coughing, the dust from the impact billowed around him as his sight grew somewhat fuzzy, watching Brandy approach him rapidly. He glanced over to Rohi, who seemed indifferent, but her hands clamped tightly on her legs betrayed the suspension she was in. To say nothing of the immense suspense that he found his allies in. He scoffed to himself, as he took a deep breath, closing his eyes and entering The Realm. Joran looked up, Brandy’s sickle was a foot away from him as she had lunged into his direction, her eyes’ glow still flickering with the power she sacrificed herself for. Her teeth gritted in her determination to end the Soma Lum.

Joran surged himself forward, slashing across her chest before slamming his hilt into her back, before exhaling his breath as he jumped away from her, now letting himself nearly collapse on the ground from the exertion as he could hear the loud thud and scream of pain from Brandy as she slammed into the ground. The impact flabbergasted everyone, especially Reigan who went wide-eyed.

“The Realm?!” Was the exclaim of many people as they realized what had happened, some of the leaders as well were shocked by the apparent use of the Swift Clan’s most powerful form, Idaten Assemblage besides Drekor especially.

On one knee, Joran panted to himself as he watched Brandy heave as she picked herself up from the small crater she was thrown into as she staggered, blood bubbling from her chest from the slash he inflicted on her. She swayed back and forth as she looked at Joran, dull surprise plastered on her face as she now spat out even more blood. She weakly chuckled as she walked back to the Heca table, slowly. She kept an eye on Joran as he was catching his breath, his body on fire from being thrown into a wall and then using The Realm. As he finally stood up himself, he watched her drop her two sickles as Ruben looked at her, intensely worried, before closing his eyes and giving her a singularly long sickle from behind the table. Its shaft was about as long as Brandy’s forearm, the curved blade twice that size, matching Joran’s Dao, even with the curve.

“Joker!” Joran looked over in the direction of Cato’s voice as he spoke with hate-laden words, “Since Heca wishes to change things up, come!”

As Joran stumbled over to him, he could see Cato wave over one of his attendants with a particularly long blade in its sheath. Joran quickly caught on as he kept an eye on Brandy, who now twirled her large sickle in hand and readied herself in a slouched, injured stance, heaving deep breaths. Cato held the sheath in his hand and offered it to Joran as he quietly spoke so only the Argo table could hear him.

“My Distilled Mind Family has always maintained neutrality. But seeing your endeavor, and the common enemy we share, we had prepared this weapon for you, a one of kind. It’s a claymore.”

Joran put his Dao on their table respectfully, as he pulled out the claymore from the sheath. The blade was made of a material similar to his Dao, but was a turquoise hue, no doubt because of his ‘Family’s” color. It was almost double the size of the Dao’s blade, nearly the length of Joran himself, as he struggled to hold it in his one hand. Holding it with both hands, he realized the black engraved hilt fit them both comfortably, the cross guards ornately facing forward the blade. He looked at Cato quizzically, unsure of how to feel.

“… Why this blade?”

Cato brushed his red hair back as he smirked, the first time Joran ever saw friendly emotion on him, “The Crown Prince has been rooting for you. So are we, now.”

Joran looked over to his right, to see Drekor giving him a devilish smile and a nod, before folding his arms. Of course Drekor would look to make a weapon to suit Joran… He could only give a nod to his friend, bowing to the Argo Assemblage after.

“I will finish this.”

“Good!”

Holding the claymore in his hands, he could feel its heaviness, and a simple swing held extraordinary energy. Undaunted, however, he moved back to the center, realizing his stance almost felt natural, as he held the blade out and downwards, looking at Brandy.

The two stood off, Brandy not acknowledging the claymore any more than Joran acknowledged the sickle in her hands. There was a space of silence and time alike between them, as the people that surrounded them watched impatiently, the tension palpable. One last strike was most likely all that was needed. Although the two had recovered from their blows, they were still shaky and fatigued.

Brandy narrowed her eyes as she made the first move again, moving as fast as she could, twirling herself to bring momentum to her sickle as she almost slung it right across Joran’s torso. The impact of the curved blade against his claymore pushed him back a few inches, but his parry was almost comfortable, as he recovered from the little pushback and swung his blade upward, forcing Brandy to disengage or lose her sickle, and he lunged forward as she jumped back. Bringing his sword downward once more from the first swing, he could feel his blade almost swing itself as it slammed into the ground, Brandy not even risking to parry. She dashed to the side, bringing her blade up across Joran’s side as he stepped sideways, a wild swing from the ground in retaliation. He grunted as he could feel himself go off-balance, stumbling backwards away from Brandy.

Seeing the fumble, Brandy lunged after him, her sickle primed for a back swing, the broad side of it ready for a strike. Joran threw his sword back, vaulting off the ground with it, bringing it up to block the sickle, pushing her back a few feet away, as he panted to himself.

“What’s the matter? Wished you still had your Idaten blade?” Brandy mocked him, acknowledging his pure defensive stance this entire time.

Joran scoffed, not saying anything as his eyes grew wild again, letting his rage drown out his rationale. Seeing Joseph’s body smashed by the orc. His conversation with Hallson’s father. He roared in anguish as he took a deep breath one more time. One last time.

“Aga-?!” Was all Brandy could say as he stepped into The Realm.

His body seethed in retaliation, as he forced himself forward the few feet apart from them. His steps were heavy, as he could almost see the world warble from his strain. But still he forced forward. He refused to let everything be in vain. He refused to let this Soma Lum end in her favor. The Joker will exact vengeance.

His lungs on fire, he swept Brandy down before screaming again, dropping out to her being slammed into the ground from the sweep, as he brought his claymore down, outright severing her lower legs from her.

Her bloodcurdling scream emanated, lingering after she laid there paralyzed from the exorbitant backlash she was now experiencing. She convulsed a few times, looking up at Joran in horror as he brought his sword up above her.

His voice was cold, laced with hatred that everyone in the Assembly could almost tangibly feel as his eyes went wide, “ADMIT IT!”

Brandy coughed blood as she rolled herself over, already pale white from the loss of blood below her as she smirked, “Admit that you’re a fool? A loyalist? I can do that.”

Joran slammed his sword into Brandy’s wrist, to which she wailed once more in pain, but much duller than before, “Is that why you killed Joseph and Hallson?”

“So what if I did?” She struggled in her words, but those in the concave could hear her very clearly, Ruben most of all trembling to them, “They were fools. Blind. Sated with nothing…”

Joran smashed his foot into her other wrist, feeling the bones crunch as she winced and grimaced, her eyes hardening as she smirked one last time. Joran kneeled over, his head throbbing from rage and exertion, his eyes flickering between hers.

“Better to watch it all burn to the ground?”

Without waiting for her response, he brought his sword back up, his eyes glazed over in tears and anger, hearing muffled screams and rebukes from the leaders, particularly from Reigan as he slashed across her chest, cleaving it open.

The chamber was deathly silent after that. Only with Joran numbly scanning the leaders’ faces, before slowing to Ruben’s. His eyes were ashen, cast downwards in shock at the ground before panning up to look at Joran blankly.

In that moment, Joran knew that Ruben hadn’t known until the bitter end. That he had found himself with a rotting organization. But before he could say anything, Joran closed his eyes, feeling his body collapse onto the ground, passing out.

…

… A fire burns.

Joran’s senses were keen enough to realize this wasn’t reality, but to see his parents burn in the flames didn’t allow for any solace.

“Joran!” He heard his mother’s cry, tears streaking down his face as he watched her hand reach out to him in fear.

“Live! No matter what, you have to live! For your sake!” She shouted adamantly even as she was scorched, eventually going unconscious from the pain.

…

… Joran was flabbergasted to watch the flames burn his view of the world, revealing the garden behind it like some magic curtain. The garden he spent his entire time in the Central Districts, the gentle brush of the wind against his face as he laid by the willow tree he basked under.

Closing his eyes, he could then hear the laughter of his two close friends, Drekor… And Eliza. Turning over, he could see them laying back as well, enjoying the sunlight that they basked in. Drekor’s wind-swept hair wildly brushed up against the grass, while Eliza’s long, brown hair was in a neat ponytail, her yellow eyes vibrant. The white, wrapped robes they all wore pristine, only marked by their Terrace colors.

Why am I here? Joran wondered to himself, as he felt a jab in the side by Eliza.

“Ow! What was that for?” Joran chided Eliza just like he remembered he did.

“For dozing off! At least pay attention when we come here to spend time Joran!”

Joran muttered to himself as he rubbed the pain away, “Fine, fine…”

Drekor sat up from across Eliza, looking at Joran with a stern face, “Are you ready for… You know?”

Joran scoffed to himself, his past self, as he responded as he remembered, “This world has given me nothing. For my parents, nothing. So yeah, I’m as ready as I will ever be for the Exam in a few months. Whatever it gives me for doing nothing, I’ll get by. Nothing more, nothing less,” Or so Joran stated with his friends offering frowns in replies.

Nothing more, nothing less…

Joran opened his eyes to see the familiar, sterile white ceiling. Sighing to himself, he realized the alternative to his dreams could have been a trip to the Sanctuary. Suddenly he was relieved as he sat himself up slowly, feeling the pangs of pain spike through his entire body, instantly forcing a grunt out of him.

“Easy there, buddy,” Drekor was sitting in a chair, clearly having been reading a book while next to Joran.

Joran smirked as he rubbed the back of his head noting he was still in his tattered suit, “What? I had a good nap, I can’t get out of bed?”

Drekor shook his head, “A good nap, my ass. You pushed yourself that hard in the Soma Lum and expect only a nap to suffice?”

Joran only shrugged as he looked around, seeing that it was the clinic room within the Sovereign Palace, as the Idaten Emblem was emblazoned on the door to the hall outside. He remembered what had happened, the Soma Lum with Brandy, the claymore Cato gave him.

Shuffling absentmindedly for his sword, he turned to Drekor with a frown, “… So how long was I out for this time?”

Drekor chuckled, “’This time?’ Be careful not to keep getting into these situations in the future, if you can,” Joran cleared his throat, staring at Drekor before he held his hands up in defeat, “Fine, you were unconscious for two days.”

“… Two days, huh? So who won?”

Now Drekor finally smirked as he closed his book, a thumb holding his spot as he leaned closer to his friend, “Who won, you ask, but I can’t imagine you actually think the outcome could have been any different? You did… Well, kill her.”

Seeing Drekor’s smirk, Joran closed his eyes as he took a deep breath, looking at his hands, playing with them as he thought aloud, “To think that was it.”

“Huh? What do you mean that was it?”

“Well… The Soma Lum ultimately decided the fate of the Bloodhound Clan, right? So what did Idaten sentence them to?”

Joran imagined a role reversal for Cael and them, Heca being revoked of their prestige entirely as they’d be sent to Ardenta. Or maybe revoking any status the members had, forcing them to be manual laborers in the factories, or in the farmlands. Something.

But Joran grew nervous as he watched his friend cast his glance down, clearly troubled by the question, “… What was the punishment?”

“Joran, I don’t know if-“

“What. Was. The. Punishment,” Joran did not let his friend escape the question, enunciating each word seriously.

Drekor sighed in lament as he looked to the side, not meeting his friend’s gaze, “… Reigan deferred to Ruben for the punishment.”

“What?!” Joran’s mind went haywire at the reveal, outraged at even the proposition of such a thing, let alone that it actually happened.

Drekor waved his friend off, trying to calm him down, “Listen, listen Joran-“

“What do you mean listen?! The Bloodhound Clan deserves to be branded! Let alone their betrayal, their damned ‘glory’ and ‘honor’ while completely subjugating Cael deserves retribution!”

“You’re right,” The duo were startled by the voice of Ruben as he leaned on the door’s opening, neither of them having realized he had entered the room.

Joran’s face contorted in rage, “Fuck you.”

Ruben sighed as he took a chair near the door, still a few feet away from the two men, “You made your feelings pretty clear in the Assembly,” He locked his eyes right on Joran, his face straight, “But I’m not here to listen to you insult my clan, as justified as it is.”

Joran cooled himself down with a few fierce breaths, finally folding his arms, “So why are you here.”

Ruben leaned forward, resting his head on a hand, “To offer an apology.”

“… What for?”

“I’m sorry for my clan’s actions.”

Joran was baffled as he glanced to his friend, who gave a slight nod before looking back at Ruben, wary of his words, “That’s… Not something that should be told to me.”

“I’m aware, it’s something my clan has to pay for in blood.”

“… I don’t think I understand.”

Ruben wryly chuckled as he shook his head, “You don’t seem to understand a lot of things, Joker.”

Joran frowned, almost pouting, “I understand what you meant in the bunker that day, at least.”

Ruben thought to himself for a moment, his eyes lighting up, “Oh, do you now?”

“You knew something was happening in your clan, didn’t you?”

Ruben blankly looked at the man in the bed, before laughing self-deprecatingly, “Not only do I have to give you an apology, but I also have to commend you as well. Yes, yes I knew something was happening. I never thought in my wildest suspicions it was… Betrayal of the highest caliber, though.”

Joran sighed to himself, closing his eyes as he mused, “I never liked you, but you at the very least wouldn’t have so adamantly defended your clan’s misdoings if you even for a second thought it was true.”

Ruben smiled to himself, “Hah. I was blindsided up until Brandy had admitted to killing Joseph and Hallson. By that point, I could only hope that maybe it was false, that maybe I wasn’t the Master of a sinful clan. But you had won, killing Brandy in the process. Even if it was false, the Soma Lum was determined.”

Joran mused to himself for a moment before he frowned, “What did she end up reporting to you about the ambush in Inven Forest?”

Ruben eyed Joran before sighing to himself lamentedly, “… She said it was you that killed them.”

Joran’s eyes grew wide in shock, as he slowly pieced together the rest of the report from there.

“So you thought it was me? Is that why you never told me the report?”

And how Ruben so callously proclaimed that Joran would pay for his crimes before the Soma Lum. It could make sense if she suspected it was him that did it, that it was the Joker, who might’ve not been a naïve boy.

But as everyone in the room now knew, as the Metropolis did as well, Brandy was the killer. The mastermind behind the traitorous group.

Ruben sighed with a heavy lament, “To think my clan wanted to usurp our way of life, the seat of power for their own gain... It’s laughable how greedy they had so obviously become. It saddens me to only realize it afterwards.”

Joran shook his head, “I’m sure there are some outliers who weren’t that way.”

“It doesn’t matter, anyways. The exile will be finished soon.”

This alarmed Joran notably, as Drekor gripped his arm, leaning all the way over before giving a consoling look as Ruben explained, “I decided that I would have my clan be exiled to the Beyond. For the sins of those who committed it. For those that allowed it to happen. Any and all Hecas, as true as their lineage is. In every sense of your demand, they have been branded with that fate.”

The room fell silent as Joran digested what Ruben stated so matter-of-factly. The exiling of an entire people flushed out and sent away from the Metropolis to certain death. Or at least a life certainly beyond any discomfort they could have experienced from within the Cities. And it was suggested by their own leader.

It was almost too much for him to wrap his head around, until Ruben spoke solemnly, “Like you said. For subjugating Cael and then subjecting them to an endless curse alone, we deserved a punishment. To then step forward from that and attempt to overthrow the Cities by openly letting Beasts past Sentinalus, demands even more retribution.”

Joran slumped back, scooting himself to be able to rest his back on his bed’s headboard, “So… Why did you push Cael so far down, then?”

Ruben spoke resolutely, “I was young and naively reckless. I never liked Audra, and sought to bully her. But, in doing so, I subjected an entire people to it, that likely would never meet me or her, but suffered the fate all the same. Actually, my demands in that Soma Lum were their exile as an entire clan. But the Realm Monarch lightened the terms, much to the disdain of my hotheadedness then, but my gratefulness now, years later. It could be said my hotheaded disdain was what spurred my people to their actions… This penance is not only my people’s but my own.”

Joran frowned, “So you’ll go with Heca? You’ll go to the Beyond?”

Ruben nodded, again matter-of-factly, “Where Heca go, I will follow after all.”

Joran looked at the man in front of him with newfound respect, albeit too late for him to change anything, only regretting that Ruben became an unknowing accomplice. His red eyes were sullen, but he still wore a stern smile. Joran gave Ruben a nod, both of acknowledgement and farewell. Although maybe the two could have come to agree on topics and terms, they knew this was the end of the Warding Bloodhound Clan, and that was that. Nothing more, nothing less.

Ruben grabbed his legs as he got up, letting his hands swing for a moment before he held his hand out, “Take care, Joker Joran. Although my people will be gone, don’t let your guard down. The Beasts will come all the same. So guard the cities well.”

Joran gave a firm smile, as he reached his hand out to the handshake, “I’ll help guard the Realm. Not just the cities.”

“Hah. So that’s what you want to do. Maybe we will meet again, if that’s your plan,” Ruben smiled wryly before giving Drekor a bow, “I take my leave Crown Prince. I only held off my own exile to be able to speak with the Joker.”

Drekor nodded, “So it was, Heca. You know where to go.”

With that, Ruben left, his fiery hair the last thing Joran saw of him. Slightly forlorn, Joran turned to Drekor, doubting himself for a moment.

“I don’t think I should have won if it meant the exile of them.”

“And let yourself be exiled?”

Joran shook his head, “I mean, Ruben was saying he regretted that ever being an option.”

“And Brandy?”

“…”

Silence fell on them as Joran thought to himself, unsure of this outcome. But he spoke up once again as a question bugged him.

“So how is the exile happening?”

“Oh, you remember Asher, right?” Joran nodded, “The Sect of the Astral is sending them on their way.”

“… Using the portals that are underneath the city?”

Drekor shook his head coyly, before realizing Joran was serious, “Oh right… No, the Sect have their own portals to the Beyond. That’s what the Sect of Deception use when they infiltrate the Beyond, as it were.”

The Sect of the Astral could use telepathy and teleportation, while the Sect of Deception were adept at invisibility able to explore and survey the Beyond with relative safety. Because of this they were the only group that could reliably go to the Beyond and back, and as such that was their primary duty.

Joran nodded in understanding, “So… How is it going along, then?”

“For the most part, it’s going about as well as you can expect. If the Clan Master himself didn’t offer it himself, there’d be a lot more resistance, but even then there’s people who obviously don’t want to be sent over. Especially the ones that were traitors.”

Joran sighed as he hung his legs over the side of his bed, processing everything, “Has there been anything from the Beasts?”

Drekor apparently was waiting for that question for a while, as he stood up after dusting himself, putting his book to his side as he held a hand out for his friend, “No Sea Serpents or Land Tanks at least. The assault on Inven Forest has stagnated since Heca traitors have been fished out of the Sect of the Astral. Your blow to the Siren probably has something to do with that, hah. All that remains now are the portals underneath the Cities; the goblins, and kobolds maybe that are left behind. With the Invasion seemingly halted, we have the opportunity to send forces down and clear those sewers. So Joran… Ahem, Joker. Hero of the Realm, would you like to accompany me?”

Joran looked at his friend, his usually wind-swept black hair slicked back, and grabbed his hand with a sharp smile on his face, “Of course.”