Miami, Florida, New American Republic, December 16, 2036

“Hey, Hayden?” Jayde poked her in the side.

“What?” she sighed.

“Let’s go for a walk. Get some sun. Some ice cream,” Jayde continued.

“Both of your arms are in casts.”

“Yeah, that’s why I need you to hold my cones.”

“No.”

“C’mon… it’s not good to sit around on the couch all day.”

“We’re supposed to be resting. Your hands and wrists are broken. Dayana tore an ACL. And I’m…”

“All that’s going to be fine for the finals. We’ve got two weeks and ‘Lord Wynn’s’ paying for the best medical and magical treatment his wealth and connections can buy.”

“Look, I just want to sit here and—”

“Stare at the TV? The TV that is currently off?”

“Yeah!” she snapped.

“Look, I get it. I really do, but that Soul Netter guy said that you need to do things to get over it quicker.”

“Since when did you talk to him?”

“In the hospital, after. While waiting for X-rays and these babies,” Jayde held up her casts. “Magical depression is better than the normal kind, apparently, it’ll go away completely… eventually,” she shrugged.

Hayden heard the words, but she didn’t really process them.

The words made sense, but she simply didn’t have the will or energy to listen to them.

“So… you need to move around—”

“I’m covered in bruises and dozens of microfractures. My head hurts and I just don’t want to.”

“Get some sun, smell the ocean, sugar—”

A knock on their door.

“You should get that,” Jayde said.

“Why don’t you?”

“Casts, remember?” Jayde waved them in her face.

“Fine!” she snapped and stomped to the door. She cautiously looked through the peephole. “Fuck… just perfect,” she opened it with a frown.

“Hello!” Cal said.

“What do you want?”

“Caught your match last night. Thought to check-in. See how you guys are doing.”

“Fine, come-in, whatever,” she flounced back to the couch.

“Hey, Boss,” Jayde said. “Hayden won’t take me out for ice cream.”

Cal held up the grocery bag. “What a lucky coincidence, huh?”

“Yes!” Jayde practically ripped it out of his hands.

“Careful, you’re hurt,” he said.

“Not badly enough that I can’t spoon myself some ice cream,” Jayde rummaged through the bag and came out with carton of the cold, sweet, creamy treat. “Strawberry Cheesecake? Weird, but I do like all those elements…” she disappeared into the kitchen.”

“I knew she was exaggerating,” Hayden muttered.

“She was just trying to help. So, how’s Dayana?”

“Knee got jacked pushing herself past limits. She’s asleep right now. Should be good for the final match. We all should be fine. Thanks to you. I guess.”

“Magically-induced depression, huh? Want to talk about it?”

“No. It’s here. It’ll be gone. There done.”

“Want to talk about anything else?”

Hayden glared at the man.

“You know what… why the fuck not!” she snapped. “I was watching TV and guess who I saw running through a spawn zone?”

“I made sure that you were aware of all aspects of his involvement in the overall plan. You had agreed.”

“Yeah, I did, but I’m feeling like a hypocrite right now, just like you,” she said.

“You still want revenge?”

“I never stopped. Just cause I’ve kept quiet about it for the last few years doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten what he did to Kath and the Hearts.”

Cal nodded.

“You can’t expect me to forget about it when the guy that murdered my mentor is out there working on the same side that I’m on.”

“I agree—”

“Sure, you’ve turned him into your attack dog. Killing only bad people and monsters. Sure, I get that his power is an asset to what we’re trying to accomplish here. But, it still stinks of hypocrisy. I don’t believe he can ever make up for all the good people he’s killed. There are no amount of evil assholes that he can kill to make up for what he took from the world when he murdered Kath.”

“I agree—”

“Which leads back to the hypocrisy. I hear all about the greater good, but can you really do that when you’re using an evil guy? Isn’t it tainted?”

“You can ask the enslaved people we free.”

“That’s a cheap shot.”

Cal shrugged. “Have I ever encouraged you to forget?”

“No.”

“Revenge—”

“Don’t compare me to him!” she snapped.

“I wasn’t going to… I say this strictly to you. Revenge is entirely up to you. I had only asked you to reconsider in light of a potential greater good,” he held her gaze. “Which, we are now on the cusp off. I know you wouldn’t argue against freeing these people, and destroying evil, like the slavers and the Cabal.”

“After…”

“You can seek revenge. Although, I’d discourage it.”

“You don’t think we can kill him,” she narrowed her eyes.

“Not at all. I think you would kill him. It’s just that… you wouldn’t be able to do it unscathed. The three of you have grown stronger, but so has the Dread Paladin. You, Dayana, Jayde… one or more of you will join him. And that would be a waste.”

“Why do you always do that? Cooper? Dread Paladin? You always talk like he’s two different people.”

“Because that’s what they are. The latter created from the trauma inflicted by the Cabal on the former when he wasn’t even a man. With a large dash of the Vow, I’m still not sure what that is exactly. Could just be a class thing or something worse, something purposeful with a will of it’s own.”

“You’re not making a case for letting him live to continue to get stronger.”

“You got me there,” Cal shrugged. “Or maybe I’m banking on Cooper coming back after getting the one thing he cares about. After he gets revenge, I hope he’ll come back fully and realize what he’s done and become in his quest. The guilt will drive him forward to atone, but he’ll know that he can never truly make up for all the murders and terror he’s caused innocent people.”

“Well, shit, you almost make it sound like I’d be doing him a favor by killing him. That doesn’t seem like much of a life. Traveling the land, fighting evil in a never ending Quest until you eventually run into something you can’t kill.”

“It’s speculation,” Cal admitted, “but, I think it’s the most likely outcome of his path.”

Hayden stared at her dark-eyed reflection in the TV screen.

“I’m still focused on the plan. At least in my part of it. God knows how many different pieces you’ve got circling around in this shithole.”

“America’s dangling turd,” he nodded.

“What?”

“That’s what Shrewed calls it.”

“I can see that,” she nodded. “I saw his match with the clown. If you’re going to check on him, tell him thanks from us, especially Jayde. Fuck that fat clown.”

“I can do that.”

“Okay, you can leave now. I’ll be fine. I understand what’s at stake and I won’t let myself get distracted. We free the enslaved and destroy the rest.”

“Well… not everyone. There are some people here that don’t agree with slavery and they do try to avoid benefiting from it.”

“That seems nearly impossible from what I’ve seen. The enslaved are doing all the work. Stores, restaurants, cleaning. Nine times out of ten its a person with a collar.”

“We have to understand that not everyone has the power to openly defy it. And those that do end up dead.”

Hayden shrugged.

“Give my regards to Dayana when she’s awake.”

She watched him leave.

“Hey, Hayden!” Jayde called from the kitchen. “Come eat some ice cream before it’s gone!”

Her limbs felt heavy and the couch exerted a gravity-like pull on her, but she fought it and rose with a groan.

Miami, Florida, New American Republic, December 2036

“I don’t know who you sucked off last night, Hanabi, but you must’ve done a great job. You’re the luckiest bitch I’ve ever had shit luck to lay my eyes on.” Jayden blinked those porcine eyes as he waited for a reaction. The bruising under his eyes and around his bandaged nose hadn’t faded much.

Hanna regarded him as she always did when they crossed paths in the stadium. She looked at him as he truly was. A turd on the sidewalk. Not even in the grass.

“Tch,” he snorted. “You’ve got another fifteen feeders waiting for you to train up. Someone with money and connections must’ve liked that shitshow your students,” he sneered, “put on yesterday. Even paid for standard gear for your feeders. Plus, you’d been pushed back in the schedule. Your next fight isn’t in a few days. It’s in a week. Not that it’ll make a difference. Next monster you fight will tear the rest of them ugly wastes to shreds and then maybe this secret nobleman that’s taken a liking to you will slap a collar around your neck and save me from—”

Hanna turned and left the foul man’s office.

“Hey! I’m not done with you…”

Oh?

But she was.

The information was a surprise.

She thought about Cal.

Was this his influence?

The note she had found on her forehead this morning made no mention of it.

The sole instruction was to pay special attention to the one-eyed girl and keep her safe.

Easier asked than done.

How was she going to keep any of them safe?

She reached the practice field to find that her students had indeed doubled.

The 15 survivors of the monster match stood together in five neat lines, three deep. While the ragged newcomers were huddled together uncertainly near the left dugout under the cruel eyes of the trainers.

“Lift those sticks and you lose a hand like, Chad,” she said flatly.

The trainers bristled.

“You’re done here.”

“We’ve got our eyes on you. Anything suspicious and you’re done,” one of the trainers said as they moved into the stands.

“We’ll get you back for Chad,” another said.

Hanna had already dismissed them from her focus. She strode to the new arrivals. “You know why you’re here?”

“We’re going to be fed to the monsters!” a young man spat.

He looked strong. Not as malnourished as the majority of the others.

“That is their intent. Mine is to make it as difficult for them.”

“By what? Training us? I don’t need training,” the young man said.

“What’s your name?”

“Lance…”

“What’s your class? Level?”

“Why don’t you ask your bosses? They should know.”

“I’m asking you, Lance.”

“What does it matter? You’re feeding us to monsters.”

“It’s so I know how to integrate you into our tactics,” she gestured toward her first batch of students. “You see them? Fifteen. Fifteen when there were twenty-one. Six dead against a mutated bear with two heads. Just like you, they only had a week to train under me. Now there are thirty of you.”

The young man glared at her. “Axeman, Level 19.”

“Axe and shield?”

“Of course, what else would I use?” he scoffed. “I need an actual defense since I’m not high enough level to have those Skills.”

“Enhanced Strength passive?”

“Lesser…”

“So, you can wield a two-handed axe with one hand,” she nodded. “Alright, Lance, fall in over there,” she gestured toward her original students. “Deirdre,” she addressed the old woman mage, who had taken on a leadership role for the group of fifteen, now thirty condemned men, women and kids, “lead them through the warm-ups while I get the rest of their classes down.”

“You got it, Hanabi,” Deirdre said.

Hanna steeled herself once again to wring life and hope out of over a dozen forlorn faces that had none.

How many would make through the next fight?

She kept the two groups as separate units at first to assess their options.

The second batch was worse than the first. There were only a handful of people with combat classes.

She integrated those into the first group while training the rest up as best she could.

Luckily for them, she had a Skill that sped up the learning process and by the end of the first day everyone had the generic fighter or warrior class depending on how they saw it.

As her students showered before heading back to their bunks deep in the stadium’s bowels she waited in the small, dingy office Jayden had placed her in.

She kept the door open to listen and make sure that none of the trainers and guards decided to have fun with her students. She had already caught a few of them in the early days trying even after she had taken Chad’s hand and left many others wounded. She had thrashed those to make an example.

None had tried since the last piece of filth, but she wasn’t taking chances.

A knock on the door frame.

“Please, come in and have seat.”

“Deirdre said you wanted to talk to me,” the one-eyed girl said flatly.

“You still don’t want to share your name? Not even with Deirdre?”

“She’s nice, but I don’t have a name.”

Hanna nodded. “We need to be able to call you something. At least for the fights.”

“Whatever is fine,” the one-eyed girl kept her gaze locked on the surface of Hanna’s desk.

“Do you know about the basilisk?”

The girl said nothing.

“It’s a mythological creature. Some myths said it was a snake, others said it was more like a lizard. They said that it had breathed poison and could kill with its eyes. I’m almost sure that the spires probably put this creature somewhere out there, probably around Greece. Now, I know you don’t have a class. I know people like you.”

“You don’t know me.”

“No, I don’t, but I have eyes. I see that you’ve been made to suffer. I saw what you did to that bear thing. I want to help you, all of you, survive this and I need to know your abilities to do that.”

“No.”

“Okay, I won’t push, but can I teach you to look out for the right moments to use your ability?”

The girl nodded after a long moment.

“Without a class you have to rely on your ability and your strength and skill. I’m a swordmaster. I can teach you the blade. I can do it in a condensed time frame. You won’t learn as fast as those with classes, but a week of hard training with me is like a month with any other teacher.”

“You cut off that man’s hand. You stopped him from… hurting… me. Why don’t you just kill all the bad men?”

“I can’t.”

The girl nodded at that. She stood and walked out of the office.

They trained everyday, all day long.

Physical training in the morning. Followed by simple formation drills with spears and shields while mages and ranged fighters worked on their accuracy at the far end of the field.

The afternoon was devoted to specific tactics, which tended to be holding the spear and shield wall, while the ranged group fired from behind.

Which left a few hours as the sun began to dip for Hanna to teach the sword to those that wanted to learn or she deemed would benefit from it. There were things for even the axeman to learn.

“The most important thing about melee combat is distance. You must understand when you can land a strike and when your opponent can do the same. Footwork is the key to this. Proper movement will take you from being out of your opponent’s range to in for a strike and back out again before receiving on in return,” Hanna said as she demonstrated basic footwork.

Forward and back.

Then side to side.

Angles.

Never crossing her feet.

Always keeping a balanced stance.

Light on her toes.

Her students copied her.

A few moved confidently and correctly.

The rest needed work, but were picking it up.

“Now,” she took up a practice longsword, “watch me.”

She moved and cut with a few simple strikes.

“You don’t want to swing with your arms and body like a baseball hitter. If your blade is sharp, then simple, precise technique is all you need.”

She kept her promise.

When fight day arrived many of her students had new or changed classes.

Swordsman, swordswoman, sword warrior, sword fighter.

All under Level 10, but to turn a person without a combat class into that within a week or two?

Unheard of.

Jayden wasn’t happy.

The nobles keeping an eye, however, were of a different mind.

They saw potential.

Potential in the people they had deemed useful only as fodder.

Potential in the woman responsible for the growth.

Greedy eyes licked their lips in anticipation at the bidding wars to come.

“I hear they’ve got something special for you special little students, Hanabi,” Jayden sneered.

She ignored him.

Her focus was on her thirty out near where home plate used to be.

The stadium was full and rocking.

She could barely hear her own thoughts over the roaring crowd.

Jayden took a seat on the bench. “I’m going to be right here. Don’t want to miss a thing. Yup, going to be a brutal bloodbath. I hear you’ve got a lot of interested people watching today. Normally, the really big boys don’t care about feeder matches, but you’ve changed all that. You should be proud. Rumor is that if any of your students survive to the end of the championships then they’re going to go on auction. I figure the nobles will want them as gladiators or for their own household guards. There’s some kinky fucks out there trying to breed them like dogs. Thinks if you put two high level people together, you increase the chances the kid will turn out high level. Or if you’ve got an upgraded class… that sort of thing. Say? Kinda like you, swordmaster? You know that sounds weird to me… master… shouldn’t it be mistress? Or ma’am… swordma’am sounds more normal. Or swordbitch. Swordslut. Swordwhore.” He chuckled. “There is one exception… your little, one-eyed pet. She don’t have a class. She’s useless. No one will want her. That means she’s stuck here. And when you move on. She’ll be alone. You won’t be around to protect her. Chad’ll get what he wants first for payback. Then the rest of the guys,” he leered. “Don’t worry, we’ll make sure to use her up before we feed her to the monsters. She’s ugly as fuck, but she’s got three warm holes and that’s all you really ne—” he yelped.

The bench and wall behind him were shredded into splinters by dozens of invisible swords.

Hanna turned to face him.

“You fucking bit—”

His head whipped to the side as a thin cut appeared on his cheek, followed by a second on his other cheek.

“What I’m hearing, Jayden, is that I have to kill you, Chad and everyone else in this place before I leave. Is that right?” she said flatly.

“You wouldn’t get away with it!”

“Wouldn’t I? From what you’re saying, I’m very valuable. Wouldn’t it be easier to find replacements for you and yours? There’s already a so-called noble paying quite a lot for what I’m doing, isn’t there?”

Jayden scrambled from the dugout and back into the tunnel like a terrified gopher.

Hanna turned a stoic face back to the field just as the large iron gate in the modified outfield wall began to slide open.

Five monsters sprinted out of the dark tunnel.

“Circle formation!” she called out.

Her students responded instantly.

Spears and shields surrounded the ranged and those with different weapons.

Sharp, iron spearheads bristled outwardly like an agitated porcupine

She had never encountered these monsters before.

They contained physical characteristics of mammals and reptiles. Thick fur sat in random-seeming patterns. The rest of the body was covered by scales. They had long, low heads, square jaws, a mouth filled with jagged, knife-like teeth. Some featured four legs, some six. Their forelegs were longer resembling arms.

They loped across the arena floor like primates. Strong, lean muscles rippled beneath strong, supple scales.

There was a lack of uniformity in coloration.

Most were a combination of greens, browns and yellows that reminded her of military camouflage.

Two monsters were slightly different in the splashes of red and blue, respectively, on their muzzles.

She learned why when the former got within 15 feet of her students’ spear and shield wall.

It spat a glob of flaming mucus that struck a shield, which went up like an old, dry Christmas tree that should’ve been thrown out as soon as the first day of the year rolled around.

The wielder cried out with pain and fear casting then burning shield away.

The man and woman on either side tried to shift to cover the weak point in their circle.

The monsters didn’t give them the time.

One hurled itself at the shield-less man.

Momentum carried the monster into the spear.

Sharp iron punctured its scale-armored chest and found its heart.

Momentum carried the monster’s snapping teeth into the man’s head.

The helmet failed to protect him.

The dying monster clawed at the dead man’s body in its last moments before falling still.

Another monster made it through the gap before they could close it. The one with splashes of blue scales on its head. It spat a glob of blue-white mucus that turned into ice the instant it hit Deirdre’s face.

The old woman fell to her knees tearing frantically at the ice.

“Power Strike!” Lance rushed in and drew blood with an axe hit to the flank.

The monster swiped but the young man’s long-handled axe kept him out of range.

Mages shot spells.

The monster reared up and charged the closest mage.

“Block!” Lance stepped in to take the bow and was sent stumbling away.

The monster grabbed the mage with its forelimbs crushing and piercing through chainmail.

Other mages continued to hit the monster with spells while the man in its grasp screamed for help.

The sword fighter darted in aiming for the softer spot underneath where a forelimb connected to the torso. “Piercing Thr—!”

The monster reared up on its hind legs and kick out with its mid legs.

The sword fighter failed to anticipate the blow. His shield was out of position.

The bone-crushing hit sent him rolling across the dirt.

A swordswoman came in from the opposite side hacking at the monster’s hind leg with more enthusiasm than skill or Skills.

Meanwhile, the one-eyed girl methodically chipped away at the ice covering Deirdre’s face. She tried not to see the pleading in the old woman’s wide, frozen eyes.

Hanna struggled to see what occurred inside the circle formation.

The three remaining monsters menaced the ring of spears jutting out from a tightly-packed barrier of shields.

Her students thrust while the monsters swiped at the hardwood shafts.

The crowd suddenly roared.

The blue-splashed monster reared up.

Its head and upper torso smoked and burned, blood flowed from numerous stabs and cuts, two swords planted in the sides of its neck.

Hanna watched it topple like a felled tree back out of view.

Good, she thought.

Her ranged fighters could now focus on the three remaining monsters.

Arrows, bolts and spells launched out from the middle of the formation peppering the monsters.

Maddened by the wounds inflicted, they threw themselves onto the spears.

Each monster died.

They died hard, however, taking a handful of her students in their last frenzied moments.

Hanna threw the heavy iron door open and rushed out onto the field.

The crowd bayed for blood.

The excitement in the announcer’s voice filled her with rage.

The formation parted way for her.

What she beheld was carnage.

The foul stench of blood and waste assailed her nose.

Everywhere she looked she saw an unmoving body or a bloody limb.

She searched desperately for the one-eyed girl.

Found her surrounded by others.

The girl crouched beside a body.

Deirdre.

Hanna relaxed when she saw that the old woman’s armor-covered chest rise and fall.

Deirdre’s face was a red mask of cold burns and blistered, peeled skin.

“Quickly! Stabilize the worst injuries!” she directed the few mages with the basic healing spell and those with useful Skills or training.

The stadium had an attached medical staff. A doctor, some with healing magic, others with varying levels of medic and first-aid Skills.

However, they were always slow to act when it came to feeders and jobbers.

Hanna had seen it often over the past weeks.

A few of her students would die if they waited for treatment from the slavers.

She ignored the crowd while she helped.