From there, they moved onto a few more introductions of the various people who were in attendance that were of extreme importance. Two Grand Shamans were in attendance. With them was, of course, the Warlord. He was surveying his future warriors of the Horde.

The cheers that were let loose after the Warlord was announced nearly ruptured my eardrums. It was loud enough I was sure it would be heard from the Empire.

The Warlord didn't make an appearance alongside the Grand Shamans. He was to appear to congratulate the winning team. Ben would be coming into direct contact with his greatest enemy for the second time, repeatedly being praised and awarded by the man. I couldn't imagine what was going through his head.

I hoped he wasn't as panicked as I was. Any thought of meeting the Warlord curled my stomach within itself. A stomach that immediately tightened, even more, when the announcer told of his beautiful daughter Eloise in attendance today. I tried my best to hold myself back, but I couldn't stop myself from looking all around the lower levels for her beautiful hair. Luck was not on my side, however, as she was in a private box with her father.

She would also be congratulating the victors, the announcer touting as a chance to impress both the future and current Warlord.

The fact that she was next in line to be Warlord was a surprise to me. One that the Horde allowed women in the line of succession, the other was the fact that she was actually in the line of succession.

I had no way to tell that before when I had met her. I had instantly discounted her as a candidate ever to become a Warlord. She had seemed far too gentle and pretty.

The announcers espousing her various victories against the Empire and other heirs spoke of a very different character. It was something I simply couldn't overlay.

The matches soon began. Akin to the first round, yet very different in skills and stakes. In the first round, you had other chances to rank higher. Here it was a be all or end all situation. Any loss on their part could be catastrophic for their future. It was clear that all the teams were feeling that.

Any confidence they had in reaching the end and obtaining victory was long gone from their mind after seeing Ben's squad take to the arena.

Ben's team performed suitably well as they began to decimate all teams they went up against. They were reaching the finals in a clear sweep.

Their opponents in the final were formidable. Three of them had advanced to tier 4, and against any other team, they would have been victorious. Now they were simply cannon fodder for Ben and his squad's trip to the top.

They fought admirably, the numbers and quality of enemies merely being too much. Ben didn't even take action. Content with five of them being the main brunt of the force. It was a successful strategy. The three tiers 4's stood no chance against the coordinated movements of the five. They were battered down into nothing. With that came the end of the match.

The victor was clear. All it would be now was the celebration ceremony. I felt sick to my stomach as the Warlord appeared from his stand—the massive form shadowed by a demure lady, with a simple veil on. Veil or not, I could easily see it was Eloise. I didn't know enough about the Hordes culture to guess at why she had to wear a veil when no other woman did. Even she went without it when I saw her. Maybe it was only for official celebrations.

The Warlord was every bit as intimidating as expected. It was only my newfound obsession with his daughter that moved my eye from the titanic form. Each step seemed to send a ripple of pressure circling the arena, ruffling my hair even where I was. The force behind his movements seemed impossible. Yet I could feel no magic in play with his steps. It was purely his presence of strength that created such an insane scene.

Every muscle seemed to be sculpted from stone. His ageless face spoke nothing. It could have been anywhere from twenty to fifty. It was only his silver beard that spoke to his true age.

He approached the winning squad. They were all standing at attention. They would be rewarded by the Warlord and would then be given a choice to enter as a team or for all of them individually to join various Heti teams that had shown interest in them.

It was clear from my captain's statements that he had no interest in ruining the team chemistry and allowing someone else into the team this late. Every time he spoke of such matters, I felt riddled with guilt. He had great hopes for our team. He thought we had a real chance of reaching the top 3 at the rate we were at. With me gone, all chances of that would be gone.

I felt no small amount of pride as I knew that I was stronger than any of the victors of the Heri rankings. Even Ben was no match for me.

Ben seemed to show no reaction when shaking the Warlords hand. The model of composure. The rest of his team couldn't contain their joy in the meeting with the Warlord. Each and everyone was unable to stop moving in excitement. Ben had none of that. He was icy calm. Yet he seemed to be looking at the Warlord with a respectful gaze. A stare I knew would be wrathful if I were in the same situation. "These young hopefuls have emerged victorious. A mixed team, proving that just because you are of the Horde does not make you superior to the outsiders. You need to work hard and become a true warrior of the Horde. These men, before you are no longer outsiders. They are one of the Horde."

His gravelly voice rang out throughout the arena. The strength of his voice seemed to mesh deep into my soul. It took a concentrated effort to break free from the thoughts of belonging and the pride for a country I hated.

With that, all of Ben's team went to their knees and pledged allegiance to the Horde. Seeing Ben perform such an act felt so wrong. Yet, for the first time since I had seen him, a sense of zeal appeared in his eyes. It looked like he had found his purpose.