After his overwhelming victory, Adam rejoined us in the audience, looking completely baffled as everyone congratulated him. He squirms in his seat, clearly in discomfort.

“Wow I can’t believe he killed all of those slimes by himself” a nearby Dragon’s Descent member states in disbelief.

“I-I didn’t want to kill the slimes,” Adam whimpers.

“No Adam you earned this victory,” I point out. “You killed all of those creatures fair and square. You should feel proud.”

Adam only whimpers more. I’m having too much fun with this. Others join in, stating how amazed they were by Adam’s bloodlust. Of course none of this helped. It did help me laugh more however so I say mission accomplished. Warren pats Adam on the back, comforting him.

“Eh.” Nerva interjects. “I would’ve killed them faster than you. Don’t think you’re better than me Adam!”

“B-but I don’t.”

“Hmph. You’ll see, I’ll kick more ass than you by the end of this. I swear.”

“We’re on the same side!”

“There’s nothing wrong with having a rival,” Akane declares. “The best comics have rival characters. They make each other stronger. It is true in real life as well. Take Quincy for instance. William is his rival.”

“Ugh no he’s not” I correct. “It’s not a competition between us. I’m glad when he gets stronger. It means I have to fight less.”

Akane glares at me, her eyebrows rising in surprise.

“No you can’t do that.”

“What do you mean?”

“You came to this world with him and have gone through adventures together as friends. You two have to be rivals. Otherwise you’re not doing it right.”

“I don’t think it works like that.”

“It does. I await the moment you two yell each other’s names as one fights to save the other from walking down the path of evil, like in Doruto.”

“That’s not happening. What about you Akane? You have a rival?”

“I’m afraid not. I haven’t found one yet. I was considering Warren but he’s not strong enough. I’m too strong for him. I know it bothers Warren greatly.”

Warren looks at her concerned, it clearly being the first time he’s heard of this.

“I couldn't care less,” he comments.

“Nonsense. I can tell by the look on your face. You wish to be my rival, seeking to become stronger with me. You wish for our bonds to grow.”

“No.”

“You can save face all you want, but I know the truth. Isn’t that right, child?”

She looks down at Sophie in her lap, who looks up at Akane with muffled ears. Having no idea what’s happening she shrugs.

“Thank you for the affirmation child.”

“Regardless I’m still kicking more ass than Adam. There’s no way I’m letting Adam show me up! Is my fight starting yet?” Nerva asks aloud, eager to get out of her seat.

“Afraid we still got a few more minutes. It’s 10 minutes between each fight, remember?” Armstrong reminds her.

“Make it go faster!”

Armstrong chuckles at the demand.

“I would if I could.”

“I dunno Nerva, I don't think you can put on a better show than my son. Heck, I’m not even sure I would have beaten the Slime Rancher. Did you see how many slimes he had? No siree, would’ve gotten my butt kicked.” Jack proclaims, leaning back in his chair.

Nerva’s face becomes red at Jack’s provocation.

“You saying he’s stronger than me?!”

“Oh yes. Way stronger.”

Jack has a sly smile on his face, clearly trying to get a rise out of Nerva. He’s up to something.

“D-dad what’re you saying?” Adam questions. “Nerva’s the strongest person I know. Way stronger than me.”

Jack dismisses with a wave of his hand, taking a sip from a wooden cup.

“Nah son you’re way stronger. Strongest there ever was. No way Nerva can compete.”

“Fuck you both! I’ll show you and those noble fucks!” she curses.

Speaking of nobles, I see a man in a buttoned up gray shirt standing beside Nerva. Gold buttons adorn his outfit, with engravings of what appears to be a phoenix on them. The shirt has cuffs decorated with cufflinks of the same design. He has white trousers of a very soft material, like it was made of silk. The man’s head is bald but his face has a bushy gray mustache. Looks like a noble to me.

“Pardon me” he says to Nerva, inching his way past her.

As he strides closer and closer I realize he’s approaching me, his eyes fixated on me for some reason. He stops before me. Akane and Warren eye him warily, like they’re ready to attack if he tries anything.

“Sir the honorable Richtofen Rudolf Charles Remelli requests your appearance.” he tells me.

“Who? I don’t know-”

I stop, recognizing the last name; that’s Nerva’s last name. I only know two Remelli’s and neither of them are named Richtofen. That leaves the one I briefly encountered.

“Nerva’s dad?” I guess.

The man nods.

I look back, seeing the large man sitting in the back, talking with Ice Cube. He notices me, nodding his head, motioning for me to join him. I look at Nerva, who’s busy yelling at Adam for something, oblivious to what’s happened.

“What does he want to talk to me about?” I ask who I suppose is a servant or a messenger.

“I am not allowed to disclose but I can tell you it is urgent.”

I lean over to Warren, whispering “Should I go?”

“I say don’t.” he suggests. “Nobles are only trouble.”

“I disagree.” Akane interjects, leaning extremely far to the side so that she can be a part of the conversation.

“This can be very interesting. I wish to know what the head of a noble house wants to discuss with the Second Hero.”

“Could be dangerous,” Warren points out.

“Agreed. I will accompany Quincy from the shadows. Warren, you must watch the child.”

Akane places Sophie in his lap before he has a chance to argue.

“Guys I think we’re assuming the worst for no reason. I wanted to know if it was worth talking to the guy. I doubt I’m about to be assassinated in public.” I argue.

“It’s a risk. They’re known for being kind to your face, only to stab you in the back. At least from what I heard.” Warren recalls. “I don’t trust them. Not one bit. Who knows what he has planned.”

I sigh, replying “Yeah I heard the tales. Ok fine. Akane you can-”

I turn my head only to see she’s already gone. Ok that’s freaky.

“Alright I’m coming” I tell the messenger, getting up.

Will’s party notices me leaving with him but doesn't say anything, probably knowing that I’ll be fine.

“Have fun!” Jack calls out, looking amused by the whole thing.

Armstrong doesn’t say anything, too busy trying to get Nerva to stop yelling at Adam with an accusatory finger over…being Adam I guess.

I follow the messenger to the back rows, the lighting becoming slightly darker as the top of the stadium covers the back seats, like an awning. The nobles give me glances before turning back to their conversations. I’m able to hear mentions of me but it’s hard to tell if they’re positive or negative. I’m led to Nerva’s father, the messenger stopping before him. Ice Cube is to his left side. She notices me, giving me a nod which I return.

“Sir I have brought the Second Hero as requested” the messenger reports to Nerva’s father.

He nods, dismissing him with a shooing motion. The servant obliges, leaving us.

“Second hero, I’m glad to make your acquaintance” Nerva’s father tells me. “Please have a seat.”

The seat next to him is open. I warily sit down, like I’m worried the seat could kill me. Warren’s paranoia has gotten to me a bit.

“We’ve never officially met, have we Second Hero?” he says.

“Besides that little incident earlier, no” I affirm.

“Let me rectify that. I’m Richtofen Rudolf Charles Remelli but you have the privilege of calling me Richtofen.”

“Ugh sure. I’m Quincy.”

“My daughter speaks quite highly of you.”

“I-is that so?”

“Indeed. She says you are quite educated despite arriving here only a few months ago.”

“I guess that’s good?”

“I’d say it’s excellent. I respect an educated man. The world consists of the educated and the uneducated. We have too many of the latter.”

I know my fair share of idiots. Most of the people I know are idiots. Nerva is the first one to come to mind. Thinking about her makes me want to disagree with his statement.

“I guess but those that aren’t as…eloquent still have merit.” I state.

“Hmm ‘merit’. That’s a funny way of saying ‘useful’. Uneducated people are useful, but they don’t have merit. There’s a difference.”

“Alright.” I say, sounding angrier than I intended.

I do not want this conversation to continue. Surely this guy didn’t invite me over so we can argue about nothing important.

“But I’ve digressed. I called you over for a reason.” Richtofen says, stretching his neck by cracking it to the side.

“And that reason is?”

“I believe we got off on the wrong foot. The encounter we’ve had earlier may have given you some wrong ideas about us, not just my house but nobles in general.”

“I think I got the right impression”

“Not if that impression is negative. I don’t want you to dislike us Second Hero, there’s no reason to. It would not look good if the Second Hero, the one that played a major role in putting down the peasant rebellion in Ayana, said unkind things about us. Besides, you are respected. Not just by the common people, but by us as well. You should be proud.”

I give him a wary look, unsure of how to take this in. After a brief thought I suppose it makes sense. The primary goal of that rebellion was to overthrow the upper class, meaning the nobles. I helped stop that from happening so of course they’d respect me. Why does that make me feel disgusted with myself?

“I thank you for the kind words.” I lie, hoping that by doing so this conversation will end quickly.

“My pleasure but there’s more. I want to teach you. Teach you about the First Estate.”

“I know quite a bit.”

“I’m sure you do. We’ve all heard of how you’ve taken many books from the Grand Library of Colonus. However they cannot teach you about the modern aristocracy. I want to show you how the world really works. This tournament, what do you think it’s about?”

I’m taken aback from the strange question. I slightly lean forward, wondering if Ice Cube can help me figure out what he’s getting at. She says nothing. She’s been surprisingly quiet during this conversation. And quiet in the sense that she’s not giving me any weird mental messages or whatever the hell she does.

“It’s a competition between guilds.” I answer. “To see which guild is the strongest. It’s about honor and pride.”

“Correct,” he concurs. “But also wrong.”

He raises his index finger into the air, the bulbous appendage pointing towards the sky. It slowly lowers until it’s pointing at Dragon’s Descent below.

“You think your guild is just here to win the tournament? There’s more to it. If Dragon’s Descent loses, they’re going to lose business. A lot of it. By winning so often these past few years, their reputation has increased greatly. They’re facing higher and higher expectations. If they lose, the whole country will see it as Dragon’s Descent not being as powerful or influential as they used to be. They’ll say it’s on the decline. That’s bad for business.”

His finger moves over to where Leviathan’s Throne is, seated to the right side of the stadium, near the front rows.

“And Leviathan’s Throne is here to demonstrate their technology. You’re aware that they have no magic from their land, yes? They want to use their technology to remind everyone that it’d be suicide to invade their state. Each guild has an ulterior motive. No one wants to win just for the sake of winning. There’s always an ulterior object. That’s Westphalia in a nutshell. Nothing is as it seems.”

I slowly nod, somewhat understanding what he’s getting at.

“And I suppose you’re telling me it’s the same for nobles?”

“Correct. The noble houses are here to cheer for their guilds but we’re here for another reason. See, that rebellion you put down has been disquieting to say the least. It’s a reflection of a trend these past few years; the trend that people are losing their respect for us. When they see us they gape but we know there’s discontent. Their envy is becoming more and more prevalent. This needs to change.”

I was about to suggest they try not being awful people but hold my tongue.

“Out of all those books you read, have you learned why the noble houses exist? Why have certain families been revered for millenia?”

“Power.” I answer curtly. “The original 13 families that founded the old empire were able to do so because they possessed abilities given to them by Vienna herself. From then on, rule had been passed down from generation to generation until the empire collapsed. After the collapse they slowly resumed their high stations.”

“That’s right. The original 13 which saved humanity from the first demon wave thousands of years ago, back when Vienna herself walked the earth. Those original families still remain, as do their many branches and subsets, including House Remelli.”

My eyes slightly widen at the revelation. Reading about this stuff is one thing but seeing someone connected to it all in the flesh is another.

“We rule because we’ve earned the right.” he continues. “Sure there are new noble houses being added quite frequently, Lord Borin’s family being the most recent example but the fact of the matter is that when people think of nobility, they think of the originals. When they are angry with us, they’re angry at the originals. That is not acceptable. People are becoming ungrateful, forgetting their place. The original houses have decided to remind everyone why we are in charge.”

“And what does this have to do with me?”

“I want you to see too; be very cognizant of it. Remember that we are not to be trifled with. We can be your best allies, or your worst enemies. Do not let my former daughter fill your head with the wrong ideas. The demonstration will begin now.”

He turns his head to Ice Cube, saying “Anastasia, please speak with Otto. Tell him that we’re changing the schedule. Walter Aldai Thatcher Alexander will be fighting next. And before you ask, you know it’s better if you do it instead of a servant. It’s more respectful. Second Hero, please accompany her.”

Ice Cube stands up, making her way past us to get to the aisle. I follow, feeling uneasy about all of this. Together we head out of the stadium, finding ourselves in the hallways connected to it. I walk alongside Ice Cube, noticing that we’re a weird pair. I’m still slightly bruised and in my monk outfit whereas she’s wearing her elegant dress that makes her appear to glide across the floor. My posture is slightly slouched while hers is rigid and upright, almost like a doll in motion. I straighten my back, feeling surprisingly self-conscious.

I apologize for my father’s lack of tact

I look around trying to figure out who said that when I realize that Ice Cube said it with her weird….whatever the hell she does. Thought projection? I’m still not used to it. Before I somehow understood the gist of what she was saying without actually talking, now I can understand her completely.

“Ugh it’s fine. I’ve had worse interactions.” I reply.

I doubt that. Conversations with my father should be classified as a form of torture. I told him, the rebellion in Ayana would’ve ended a lot sooner had he taken up arms. Give him five minutes with the Man of Stone and the foe would’ve been talked to death.

“Ha! Dang Ice Cube, didn’t know you were such a savage.”

I apologize. My father’s views are disagreeable to say the least and it riles me up like a dragon whose egg has been abducted. It makes me envy Nerva. I wish I was like her, able to just leave it all. The life of an aristocrat isn’t grand. Most of it consists of meaningless political battles where your only weapon is your tongue. Only can an aristocrat feel like a dinner table is a battlefield.

“You’re quite loquacious when we can actually hold a conversation. Wait, how are we doing that anyway?”

We continue to walk, bypassing people who for a brief moment stare at Ice Cube. Her head remains looking forward, looking like she knows exactly where she’s going which is good because I don’t. Her face remains motionless as we take a turn.

My friend, your case was unique. I never encountered someone who was unable to hear the ‘voice’. It took me by surprise back then but I’m glad you overcame it. I wish it wasn’t at the expense of your health however.

“Voice?”

It’s an aura technique. I use my aura to project my voice to others. It takes years of training to accomplish and it's archaic, being something that was only prevalent thousands of years ago.

“What’s the point of that?”

Proper etiquette. My father always said ‘a woman is most eloquent when she does not speak’. He got it from an old series of books entitled ‘Proper Etiquette For Young Ladies’. A six volume set. It states that women of high standing should only let their husbands hear their true voice, it being scandalous to let anyone else hear. My father is the only one who clings to the old ways so stubbornly. I wish he would get with the times. To avoid his wrath I do as he asks. As you can probably tell, my sister refused the training

“I can’t imagine Nerva keeping quiet like that. It is unimaginable. For some reason that set has eluded me. I’m sure I would enjoy it very much.”

Most definitely. You would make a fine young aristocratic woman Quincy.

“Hah! Why thank you, becoming a fine aristocratic woman is on my bucket list after all. How come I wasn’t able to understand you before?”

It requires people to sense the very small aura projection I emit. For some reason you lacked this ability that all other people have. Perhaps you had a mental block.

“If you’re telling me I was too stupid I’m afraid nothing has changed. I’m still dumb.”

We’re all idiots. Smart people are only deft at hiding it.

We take another left, stopping in front of a brown door. It lacks a sign so I have no idea what’s inside. It’s not a bathroom, so that narrows it down to literally everything else. Ice Cube knocks on the door. The door creaks open, revealing a teenage boy with dark orange hair, freckles and green goggles over his eyes.

“Oi whaddya want?”

Greetings. I brought news from my father.

“Father eh? Must be important if he sent ya. And what can I do for ya, Second Hero?”

“Nothing? I’m just here, don’t mind me.”

“Aight. Come inside please.”

By the sound of his voice I would say he’s around 14. I have no idea who this kid is but I think his name is Otto? He opens the door fully, allowing Ice Cube and I to head inside. The room appears to be some type of locker room, full with open lockers but instead of being filled with clothes, they’re filled with weapons. The ground is made of gray tiles, with black lockers lined along the walls. Between the lockers are long brown benches. In the center of the room is the kid and another man working on a standing piece of armor with a myriad of tools. The armor is standing upright on its own, like it has a mind of its own. It's a gray plate of intricate design, with Leviathan’s Throne’s emblem emblazoned on the front. The armor is lean, with the joints covered by small circular plates. Whoever wore it would be as nimble as a person in leather armor. The other man working on it with the kid appears to be around my age. He has light red hair and gray eyes. His face is angular, covered by a small red five o’clock shadow.

“Tesla we got visitors. Don’t mind them” the boy says, continuing to work on the armor.

“Uh huh” the man replies, doing the same.

My father is moving your next fight up. The 13 families are in agreement on this. The emperor will allow it.

“That so?” the boy asks.

Indeed. They wish their representative to fight sooner than expected, so as many people as possible will see it. You know people begin to leave the stadium during the later fights.

“Guess that’s true. Only problem is you’re not winning. I don’t give a damn what you nobles are seeking to accomplish by putting a noble in Griffin’s Nest but y’all ain’t beating us. This suit I’ve been working on is the best exoskeleton I’ve ever made. It’s on par with the abilities of the original 13.”

If that’s true then I suppose you have no problem with moving the fight up?

“Guess not. Doesn’t make a difference to me. You ok with it Tesla?”

The man stops working on the suit, looking up at us from a crouched position.

“Fine by me. Y’all better not complain once I make the pretty boy cry.”

Thank you, gentlemen. It’s been a pleasure.

“The pleasure’s all mine. As a guild leader, you gotta do stuff like this right?” the boy replies as he and his compatriot go back to working on the armor.

“Wait, you're a guild leader?” I ask, utterly surprised given his age.

“Yah. I guess I didn’t introduce myself, sorry ‘bout that. Name’s Otto. Leviathan’s Throne is mine.”

He gestures towards his compatriot.

“And as you already heard, that’s Tesla. He’s one of my most experienced adventurers.”

“Sup” he greets, examining the armor.

“Sup bro” I return, trying my hardest to sound cool. “So how’d you become a guild leader so young?”

Otto points as his head.

“Brains. That’s the only thing that matters in Leviathan’s Throne. If you’re smart, you move up. It’s like Albium society as a whole. School determines your job in Albium. Apparently my job selection score was the highest they’ve seen in decades. I’m the smartest, and the best engineer so I got put in charge of the guild. Simple as that.”

“Huh ok.” I react. “I respect it.”

“Good. I get enough of old people saying putting me in charge was a mistake. I’ll prove them wrong by showing off my latest innovation in exo-armor technology. This baby is going to kick ass.”

“Exo-armor?”

“That’s what these exoskeletons you see my people wearing are officially called. This allows us to close the gap between aura and non-aura users. People from Albium can’t use magic or aura, so we use these on the battlefield. Now I can’t tell you how they work, that’s classified. Lordess Jana would behead me if I give as much as a hint as to how they work. All you need to know is that they accomplish what you can do with aura, and then some.”

“That’s cool. I’m looking forward to seeing it in action.”

“As am I.”

Gentlemen I’m sorry to interrupt but I’m afraid I must depart.

“Right, sorry Ice Cube. It was nice meeting you both. I wish you luck.”

“Likewise. Anyone that beats up Unicorn’s Wonderland is alright in my book.”

Ice Cube and I depart, heading back into the hallways. We begin to retrace our steps.

“What do you think, Ice Cube? Think the nobles are gonna succeed with their show of force idea? That armor looked mighty impressive” I inquired as the two of us walked abreast.

It won’t be enough. They’re not winning unfortunately. My father told you a maxim that nothing is as it seems. I have another, the nobility always gets its way.

After a quick reunion with Nerva’s dad and saying goodbye to Ice Cube, I take my seat with my party, feeling strange about the whole thing. That whole meeting felt like a disguised threat and a request for friendship at the same time. It was like I was offered the pen and the sword simultaneously.

“How’d it go?” Warren asks me, noticing my face grimacing as I thought about what transpired.

“They did not try to kill him.” Akane answers on my behalf, sitting in her original seat.

“It’s true.” I admit. “Wait where were you Akane?”

“I was on the ceiling.”

“The whole time?”

“Yes. You enjoyed your time with Anastasia. I saw.”

“Can you not say it like that? I don’t want people getting the wrong idea.”

“She can’t.” Warren deadpans. “She does it all the time.”

“They partook in witty banter. Warren, why can’t we do the same? Our bond is greater than theirs.” Akane complains.

“Told you.”

I take Sophie from Warren’s lap and place her in Akane’s, hoping to distract her. It works, as Akane begins to tell Sophie what's happened, despite the little girl wearing ear muffs.

“Anyway I think they threatened me.” I begin. “He pretty much said I’d better be careful and side with them. They want me to understand how powerful they are and really want me to pay attention to this next match.”

“I was wondering why the schedule changed. Nerva’s still mad about it.” Warren reveals.

Warren gestures towards Nerva and Adam. The former is yelling at Armstrong while the latter is trying to calm her down. Jack is over there too, laughing at the whole thing.

“At least you’re safe.” Warren acknowledges. “I’m also glad Nerva didn’t notice. She’d probably attack her father again if she saw.”

“Yeah definitely. I can see why Nerva never fit in with them. They’re very conceited, based on how her father acts.”

“Are you surprised?”

“Not really. I feel bad for Ice Cube. Between the two of them, it’s almost as if Nerva is better off.”

“You’re probably right.”

The stadium begins to quiet down as the emperor and Luther take their seats.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we have ourselves an update. We’re moving one of today’s fights up. Why you may ask? Because I’m looking forward to it and want to see it now!” Emperor Marcus announces.

The audience cheers, oblivious to the real reason why there’s been a change. I can’t help but think this is another thing I’m supposed to be cognizant of. It’s like I got a personal lesson in politics 101: It’s easy to manipulate things from the shadows and have the people none the wiser.

“Alright let’s not keep waiting any longer! Leviathan’s Throne, send out your representative!” The emperor commands.

I turn my head to Otto’s guild. The boy is sitting amongst the engineers, half of them fiddling with small devices, ignoring the cheering around them. The orange haired youth springs up, removing his goggles.

“Leviathan’s Throne chooses Tesla Newcoman!” he shouts.

The man I saw earlier gets up amidst the applause, wearing the exo-armor. To demonstrate the suit’s power he leaps from his seat high into the air, a height of around 35 feet before falling down into the arena below. He slams the ground with a loud thud, cracking the ground with the impact. He straightens up, cracking his neck. The armor gleams, making it almost appear to glow. He performs a few practice punches, demonstrating how his mobility hasn’t been hindered by wearing it.

“A most excellent suit of armor befitting Leviathan’s Throne!” Luther exclaims. “What fine craftsmanship!”

“Agreed! Does it come in gold?” Marcus asks, looking at Otto.

The boy shakes his head.

“You were this close to greatness Leviathan’s Throne.” Marcus declares, almost connecting his index finger and thumb. “Let’s see if that armor isn’t just for looks. Griffin’s Nest, send out your representative!”

I turn my attention to Griffin’s Nest who’s seated on the left side of the stadium, across from Leviathan’s Throne. The old guild leader stands up, not looking as excited as he was before when announcing Adam’s opponent. In fact, he looks dejected, like he’s not looking forward to the upcoming fight.

“Griffin’s Nest chooses Walter Aldai Thatcher Alexander.”

People cheer expecting the representative to enter the ring but it quickly fades away as nothing happens. The chosen representative is sitting in front of the guild leader, talking to two women, laughing with them. They’re wearing colorful dresses, indicating they’re nobility.

“Griffin's Nest chooses Walter Aldai Thatcher Alexander!” the old man shouts in the young man’s ear.

The noble turns his head, giving the guild leader a mean glare before resuming the conversation with the women.

“Hmm this is new.” Emperor Marcus comments. “I’ve never seen a representative refuse to represent.”

“I understand the young man.” Luther says. “The young lad is courting, a very serious pursuit. I do it quite often.”

“I agree but we’re in the middle of a tournament and I want to see fighting. He’s the only noble in the tournament. I want to see what he can do.”

Tesla below tilts his head up, taking in a deep breath before yelling “Pretty boy! If you wish to converse with Atradan whores, you can do so after I put you in the hospital!”.

The audience gasps at the insult, especially the nobility.

“Such blasphemy! How dare you insult women!” Luther exclaims, slowly rising in his seat, ready to take out his sword.

“Wait, my friend!” Marcus interrupts. “This is on purpose. Let’s see what happens.”

Walter disinterestedly turns his attention to Tesla, looking at the armored man with a blank expression. He stands up, stretching his arms.

“I apologize ladies, but it appears I have to take care of some business.”

He slightly bends his legs, jumping into the air, causing gusts of wind to blow in every direction, making hats fly off heads and some people fall out of their seats. He flies through the air, reaching a height even greater than the one Tesla reached when he made his entrance. Walter lands in the same fashion as well, almost as if he was doing it on purpose. He straightens up, glaring at Tesla.

“‘Pretty boy’ huh? I thank you for acknowledging my looks. However, don’t address me unless it’s with my favorite three letter word.”

He holds his arm out, the sun reflecting off his bright white uniform as the cape billows behind.

“S.I.R. Sir!” he pronounces, holding a finger up for each letter.

“You’re talking to a noble, a member of House Alexander. One of the 13 original families that you all owe your allegiance to, I won’t let you address my peers so disrespectfully.”

Tesla spits at the ground in disgust before looking up at his guild leader.

“Otto! My helm and sword!”

The boy nods, taking out a silver helmet and a long serrated edged sword. He chucks them down which Tesla catches with a flourish.

“Pretty boy, I’m about to show you technology has closed the gap between nobles and common folk. By the end of this, the world will see you are nothing special.”

He puts the helmet on. It’s a standard knight helm with a thin slit for the eyes.

“Who’re you betting your money on?” I hear Jack ask Armstrong.

“Hmm, I can’t tell who’ll win but I do know who I’m rooting for.” Armstrong responds.

The atmosphere has become tense, the audience waiting with baited breath for the match to begin. Without saying a word, Emperor Marcus hits the gong with his sledgehammer.

Tesla springs from his spot, leaving behind a gust of wind, causing dirt to rise. With his blade in his right hand, he lands next to Walter, pivoting on his left foot while swinging his blade. Walter’s eyes flick to the side to keep track, his body keeping still. At the last possible moment, Watler takes a large step forward, making the swing whiff. He whirls around, smiling at Tesla. I can’t see Tesla’s face, but I can tell he’s angry. Tesla steps in, seeking to pierce Walter’s chest with the front of his blade. Walter once again dodges by ducking underneath the blade. From his crouched position, Walter winds up a punch. He throws it at Tesla’s stomach but the armored man was able to jump back, out of arm’s reach.

“Oooh” Marcus says in amusement. “Looks like they’re testing each other out. I should get snacks. General Dane, go get some mermaid eggs.”

The armored general leans forward, saying “Sir that isn’t-”

“Quickly! It’s getting good!”

“Y-yes sir.”

Walter steps in again, closing the distance. He throws another punch but it’s blocked by Tesla’s left forearm. Their arms push against each other, their feet locked in place.

“This is the strength of exo-armor eh?” Walter observes with a grin. “If so, it’s not nearly strong enough.”

Walter begins to walk forward, forcing Tesla to step back as Walter’s arm forces his forearm back more and more. Then in a burst of strength, Walter’s fist pushes past Tesla’s forearm, driving into his helmet, sending Tesla back a dozen feet. The armored man lands on his back as the audience cheers. Walter examines his hand, clenching and unclenching it, like he’s surprised by the sensation. Tesla immediately gets up, then crouches, his body leaning forward.

“You’re holding back huh? So am I.” he growls before charging again.

He appears in front of Walter, prepared to take a swing when he suddenly disappears, leaving behind a gust of wind and dirt. He reappears behind. Walter spins around, but Tesla dashes off yet again. Next thing I know, Tesla is zooming all around the stadium, making me lose track of him. The only time I can see him is during the split second he stops, only to move once more. If it’s hard for me to track, it must be especially true for Walter who’s in the middle of all this.

“Look at that! That speed is on part with the strongest of aura users!” Marcus happily commentates.

“Fascinating! I remember reaching such a speed when I was almost late for a date.” Luther recalls.

“Did you make it?”

“I did. Unfortunately she did not. Turns out she was so enamored with me she couldn’t bear to see me. She had left town two weeks before due to her nervousness.”

“That’s a shame my friend. A true shame.”

Walter stands still, his cape constantly billowing in different directions as Tesla moves from position to position. His eyes are wide open, unblinking as they flick quickly from side to side. Is he tracking Tesla? Tesla appears beside Walter once more, swinging his blade. Walter leans back to dodge it, grabbing Tesla’s arm. Without missing a beat, Tesla throws a quick side kick at Walter’s head. The attack connects, causing Walter to let go. Now free, Tesla jumps back, lifting his sword high into the air in a double grip. He slams the sword down in a large vertical slice. It cuts the ground before him, making a giant cut that looks like someone cut the arena in two, like it was a slice of pizza. A powerful gust of wind accompanies the cut, slicing Walter’s clothes, launching the noble into the wall. It was as if a tempest’s winds targeted a single man. The audience looks shocked by the display.

“That suit sure is something” Jack remarks, letting out a long whistle.

“Albium technology sure has come a long way.” Armstrong concurs. “Gotta give it to Otto, the kid can surely invent.”

I look at Leviathan’s Throne, seeing Otto staring intently through his green goggles. He’s telling another guild member to take notes as they watch.

“You’re fast!” Walter bellows, emerging from the wall, his clothes damaged. “Strong too. I think it’s time to put some effort in.”

He takes a few steps forward, his clothes torn by the attack, his face brimming with confidence. He grabs the bladeless sword handle attached to his hip, removing it. He looks at it, grinning.

“Each of the original 13 families have been given powers by Vienna herself. They’re powers that only they have, powers of unimaginable strength. You should count yourself lucky, you’re about to see a power that’s killed the strongest of demons, a power that’s saved humanity. I’m going to remind you why you’re beneath me.”

He puts his arm out. A bright light emerges from the hilt, a light as bright as the sun. The light fluctuates in shape in size, like he’s struggling to control it. It eventually settled in the form of a blade, a blade of pure light.

“This is the power of House Alexander! This is Vienna’s light”

Tesla freezes, in awe of the blade but recomposes himself. He raises his blade, running towards his enemy. Walter does the same, the two clashing over the massive crack Tesla’s last attack had made. The serrated blade makes contact with the blade of light. Instead of the blades crashing, the light goes straight through the sword, cutting it in two as if it was made of butter, no hint of resistance is shown, like the two didn’t even make contact. Tesla tries to back up but is met with a kick to the stomach. The kick sends him skidding back, Tesla trying his hardest to dig his feet into the ground so he remains upright. He stops, bending forward. He rips his helmet off, allowing him to cough up blood. It first comes out in chunks but it begins to pour out of him like a faucet. His chest plate is heavily damaged, a white light showing through the cracks.

Walter doesn’t give him any time to recover; he zips to Tesla, stopping before him. Tesla glances up, putting his arms up in defense when Walter throws a horizontal slice. Tesla’s forearms are cut clean off, as smoothly as his sword was cut. He screams in pain, his wounds searing, smoke coming off them like he’s suffered an extreme burn. The audience watches on in horror, mouths agape. A dark yellow aura is flowing around Walter, who looks down at Tesla in disdain. He deactivated his blade, it becoming a normal handle once more yet his aura remains.

“You said that the gap between common folk and nobles has been closed. That’s not possible. The moment I began to try, the fight was decided.”

With one hand Walter grabs Tesla by the hair, and with the other, drives a fist into his face, crashing his head into the floor, causing the ground to crack beneath. The audience collectively winces at the display of violence. Walter stands over Tesla, cracking his knuckles.

“The difference in strength may as well be between that of a human and an ant.”

He punches down onto Tesla’s chest, cracking the armor even more, causing blood to shoot out of Tesla’s mouth like a geyser.

“I’ll beat the lesson into you.”

Another punch.

“I am your better.”

Another punch.

“You are my servant.”

Another punch.

“I am a noble.”

Another punch.

“You are a peasant.”

Another punch.

“You will address me as sir. I’ll spell it out for you.”

Another punch.

“S.”

Another punch.

“I”

Another punch.

“R”

He stops attacking, staring down at his broken opponent. The armor had completely shattered, its pieces lying alongside its wielder, like a creature that had broken through its cocoon.

“S-s-sir” Tesla cries.

The audience is speechless, half amazed, half terrified. This is the power of nobility. This is what Nerva’s father wanted. Everyone has received the message.

“The winner is Griffin’s Nest!” Emperor Marcus announces.

The fans of their guild slowly begin to clap, acting like they had to. Walter steps back, looking at his gloves. They’re covered in blood. He removes them, throwing them aside. He scans the audience, his eyes settling on us. He looks at me, smiles. He knew that part of this was to make sure I got the message, I can tell. His eyes wander to Nerva. The redhead stares back, gritting her teeth. He takes his left hand and points at her. With the right, he performs the cutthroat gesture. Earlier Nerva declared war, now war has been declared in return.

“Alright motherfucker let’s go!” Nerva bellows, getting up from her seat. Fortunately Dragon’s Descent restrains her before the Grand Skirmish receives an impromptu fight. Walter smiles, turning his back to her, walking away from his defeated opponent who remains motionless on the ground.

“‘Humanity’s strongest’’” Jack says. “That’s what they like to call the original 13 families. Guess there’s more merit to the title than I realized.”

I remain speechless, feeling like a huge weight has been dropped on me. Ice Cube’s words repeat in my head: “the nobility always gets its way.”