Cailu’s sleep was fitful, at best. He watched as the last licks of flame perished beneath the charred wood in the fireplace. The letters of recommendation for Tristan and Matt lay sealed and stamped with the sun emblem insignia he’d adapted for himself in Nyarlea.

Naeemah tossed and turned in the bed next to his. At least twice, her eyes had snapped open, emeralds catching the firelight as she stared at Cailu with a haunting mixture of pain and anger. She felt betrayed, and rightfully so.

There were not enough words in any language to convey his frustration with this venture. This world. He’d spent so long carrying the expectations of the queen, of San Island, of the mysteriously sentient Ai. There were tomes and scrolls detailing Nyarlea’s renaissance—a time when the Defiled were well-managed and the men readily available to assist the capital.

Then, the capable men vanished. Repeatedly replaced with weak-willed, anserine fools that cowed in the face of difficulty. This was the closest he’d ever been to a revival of peace and restoration of trust. Tristan and Matt needed the training, but both understood the urgent necessity of their summit and were prepared to assume their roles within the Nyarlean system.

But Magni… Gods damned Magni.

The shuffling of blankets caught his attention. Naeemah swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood. She’d remained in her [Combat Mode] attire, despite reassurances that no harm would come to any of them. She marched around the footboard, then paused for a moment at the side of Cailu’s bed. With a deep breath, she pulled the blankets back and slipped beneath them, resting on one of the numerous excess pillows and searching for his eyes in the dark.

“It seems neither of us has managed to sleep,” he murmured. Noting Kirti’s steady breathing, he added, “Well, save for one of our number.”

“You cannot die to him, Cailu.” Her whisper was steady and sharp. “I will never forgive you.”

“My promise will be carried out by—”

“It’s not about your promise. The islands will crumble without you. I– …I will–” Her words trailed into an exhale as a tear escaped the corner of her eye, and she quickly wiped it away.

“You ruled this island with unparalleled dignity and grace for over a decade. Alone, Naeemah. You do not need me to continue your monarchy.” Cailu bent his elbow, propping his head up on one fist. “One way or another, this island will be yours once more.”

“We have not come so far to see you dead at the hands of a tyrant,” she hissed.

“We are out of options and out of time. This was the only certain way to pass off the city to you. Even if I win, the situation may worsen before it improves. But you are more than capable of handling it.”

“Cailu.” Naeemah reached for his free hand, grasping it in hers. Her skin was smooth and warm, and the gesture brought a comfort he hadn’t expected. “I know you tire of this world. I see it in your eyes and hear it in your words. We so rarely have an opportunity to think or space to breathe. Even so, don’t let this be your last day in Nyarlea. Don’t let it be my final memory of you.”

Cailu found himself gently tracing the back of her hand with one thumb. An idle, mindless motion that he couldn’t recall doing in years.

Naeemah…

He wanted to promise her that the duel would go exactly as she wished—Magni dead and Cailu walking away unscathed. But fighting another person was much different than battling a mob of Encroachers or a Defiled. Without knowing his Class or Skills, he would have to deduce them on the spot. One wrong step could cost him the duel.

Kirti jerked to a sitting position without warning, her orange eyes peering out the window, then at Cailu. “It is time.”

Naeemah released his hand and slid from the blankets. She righted herself and marched to the door, disappearing into the hallway.

Cailu ran a hand through his hair, then pushed himself to sit.

Naeemah, I’m sorry.

Breakfast was a disquieting affair. Everyone picked at their meals in silence, most unable to bring themselves to eat. Cailu forced down two eggs and a mug of water—he would need the energy. Tristan and Matt exchanged worried glances while the girls kept their eyes on the table. Kirti seemed the only one at ease, taking her time with her meal and flashing anyone her token sardonic smile should they dare to look at her. Magni was not in attendance.

The duel was to be held in one of the many courtyards of the citadel. Once Cailu and the others had donned their [Combat Mode] attire, Aanya led the group outside, where a handful of First Shell catgirls were gathered around a large, glowing blue ring. One young woman stood on the outskirts—a [Priest] from the appearance of her garb—her eyes focused on the ring as a glimmering trail of magic shimmered from her staff.

“What is that?” Matt asked, pointing at the magic glow.

“It acts as a wall,” Cailu explained, stepping forward and laying his hand on the air just above the circle. As he expected, pressure stopped his palm from falling inside. He gave the invisible wall a few knocks with his knuckle.

“It absorbs magic, too,” Tristan added. He blushed when everyone looked at him in surprise. “I read about them. It’s safer for the spectators this way.”

Perhaps this world still stands a chance.

“Cailu, I pray you slept well?” Magni greeted in his booming voice. His resplendent gold armor clicked as he walked, stopping to stand next to Cailu.

“The workers in the citadel offer excellent hospitality, as always,” Cailu growled. “Their leadership has much to learn from them.”

Magni’s mouth drew into a thin line. “Let’s get this over with.” He slammed the visor of his helmet over his face and signaled for the [Priest] to drop the wall momentarily.

“Good luck, Cailu,” Matt said, extending a hand.

Cailu shook it, then handed him the two letters of recommendation. “Thank you, Matt.” With one last lingering look at Naeemah, Cailu turned and strode into the dueling ring.

Magni stopped fifty paces from where Cailu stood. The hunk of metal he shouldered could scarcely be called a greatsword. It was enormous, black and unwieldy, nicked and dented beyond reason. Cailu raised a brow and drew his dueling sword from the scabbard.

It had been years since Scorn had seen use, but it was just as beautiful as he remembered. Made with the finest steel Bells could afford, the sword was forged to perfection and enchanted by the most powerful [Arbiter] in all of Nyarlea. Augmenting every Spell in the [Paladin]’s arsenal, the [Arbiter] had claimed the sword her life’s work. Gems so clear you could see straight through them laid inside the hilt. Spirals of faded white and red colored the blade, swirling until they met at the sword’s tip.

With the blade's flat held toward him, Cailu rotated the weapon in search of imperfections. The edge was still razor sharp, catching the sun’s light as if it were forged just minutes ago. Cailu had never seen a finer sword in all his life.

The [Priest] gestured the two men to their positions. Fifty paces would separate them, as was Nyarlean custom. Both individuals were allowed to use whatever weapons or Spells they deemed appropriate.

For most duels, anything was fair game.

Magni threw his fist into the air, signaling to the [Priest] that his preparations were complete. Cailu leveled his gaze on the dark-eyed girl, mirroring Magni’s signal.

She nodded and motioned to a pair of flanking catgirls to kneel beside her. Maintaining the barrier was exhausting work, often requiring the assistance of others to help provide a steady pool of [Myana Points] to the [Priest].

Cailu drew a deep breath and readied himself into a fighting stance, one foot in front of the other, sword behind, shield in front.

“[Wall of Sanctity],” the [Priest] recited.

The barrier was up, the gauntlet thrown. All that was left was to put the dog down.

“[Invoke Gale]!” Magni swept his greatsword behind him as if it were weightless. A gust of wind kicked the sand around him up into the air, snaking its way around his weapon. As the Spell completed, Magni added, “[Tailwind]!” The twin sand cyclones wrapping around his weapon leaped to Magni, blanketing him like the eye of a hurricane.

[Tailwind] would significantly improve Magni’s attack and movement speed. These were [Magic Knight] Spells.

With his sword held in one hand behind him, Magni ran at Cailu with an ear-piercing battle cry, like a barbarian lusting for blood, the wind carrying him across the ground at an alarming speed.

“[Iron Wall]!” Cailu yelled as he raised his shield.

Magni came to a skidding halt, kicking sand toward Cailu and lifting his greatsword for an overhead swing. As Cailu raised his shield to block the blow, Magni spun on the spot and came at him from the right instead.

Damn!

The world slowed at that moment as Perception activated much earlier than Cailu preferred. There was no time to block the attack with his shield. He would have to put his sword in danger.

“[Protective Finish]!” Cailu cried in the world of slowed time. A flash of white swept over the blade as time returned to normal, and the greatsword made contact.

The sound of screeching metal echoed in the courtyard as the two weapons clashed. Cailu shifted his weight and used the force of the attack to spin away from Magni, steadying his posture. Magni continued his assault, swinging at Cailu’s left.

Cailu swung his shield against the oncoming strike, yelling, “[Disarmament]!”

The whites of Magni’s eyes flashed beneath his helmet as shield and sword clanged against one another. A loud hum followed, and Magni’s weapon soared into the air, crashing against the barrier before falling uselessly to the dirt.

Now was his chance. Cailu stepped forward and lunged for the slits of Magni’s helmet.

As Magni stepped to the side, Scorn’s tip found purchase inside the outermost hole, tearing the helmet from Magni’s head and sending it careening into the sand.

“[Cutting Wind]!” Magni screamed.

Cailu’s shield went up as a green beam of light erupted from Magni’s palm, piercing through the air and connecting with Cailu’s shield. The blast knocked him back several feet and threw him off balance. As he steadied himself, Magni sprinted to where his greatsword lay, and Cailu threw his shield and sword down beside him.

“[Call Arms]!” Cailu cried, his hand extended. The greatsword trembled slightly before rising into the air and flying toward him.

Magni grasped at the greatsword’s handle, missing it by mere inches. Fury twisted his features as he stretched his arm outward. “[Bind]!”

At last. There it was. A Skill that betrayed Magni’s primary Class. It would have been foolish to reveal both too early in their duel. However, there was but a single Class that could learn [Bind].

A portal as dark as a bottomless well opened between Cailu and Magni. Dozens of chains snaked out of the alternative dimension, coiling around the greatsword and pulling it inside. Moments later, another portal opened beside Magni, and the chains deposited the greatsword into his hand before retracting back inside. With a hum, the doorway disappeared, sparks of violet and crimson licking at the edges.

Magni bowed his head forward, allowing his hunk of steel to fall against the ground. Even at this distance, Cailu could feel the slight tremor it created.

“So now you know,” Magni growled. “It will do you no good.”

Cailu bent to retrieve his sword and shield. As he rose, the corner of his mouth twisted into a smile. “Then what are you waiting for?” He raised Scorn, pointing the tip at his opponent. “Or do you prefer to drivel like a child?”

“[Invoke Blaze]!” Magni bellowed a bloodcurdling roar, a great blaze erupting over his sword. “You think I don’t know what Sub-Class you use?” Magni closed the distance in seconds, jumping into the air with his sword held high. “[Scorching Fervor]!” The heat of the blaze grew tenfold, drawing beads of sweat from Cailu’s scalp.

There would be no avoiding this attack, Perception or not. With [Disarmament] on cool down, the best Cailu could do was increase his defenses as high as possible.

Cailu dropped to one knee and raised his shield, yelling, “[Bulwark]! [Mirror Shield]!”

The greatsword and shield met again, sending a deafening knell through the air as if someone had just struck a bell. Magni landed and pushed the weight of his sword against Cailu’s shield. Hungry flames lapped at Cailu’s body, stopped short by [Mirror Shield], and redirected to the surrounding pitch.

A ring of fire scorched the ground around them, and as Magni began to lift his weapon, Cailu pushed.

“[Shield Bash]!” For the second time, Cailu knocked Magni’s greatsword to the ground. With this momentum, he could not stop. He needed to put himself on the offensive. Cailu stepped forward, swiping his sword through the air at Magni’s face.

Magni hissed through gritted teeth as he stepped back, throwing a powerful kick toward Cailu.

Cailu refused to relent. “[Beheading Swipe]!” A screeching hum followed as Cailu stepped forward and whipped his shield through the air. The metal around the rim morphed to fine edges in the blink of an eye.

However, with [Tailwind] on his side, Magni managed to dodge his attack with inhuman speed. Instead, Cailu caught the man’s breastplate, ripping a gaping horizontal cavity into the unblemished gold.

Magni staggered backward, gasping for air and grasping at the metal. With the effects of [Tailwind] still behind him, he jumped away as if the winds carried him. As his fingers brushed against the fastenings of his breastplate, the metal fell to one side, hanging by its remaining strap.

“You fucking cretin,” Magni snarled.

“Ah, there’s the real Magni,” Cailu mocked. “Show everyone who you truly are.”

“I grow tired of your unmerited hubris,” Magni growled and ripped the strap off, tossing the plate to his right. Cailu saw a large cut across Magni’s shirt where a thin line of blood was forming. “I will defend my people.”

Cailu shook his head. “Still, you insist on playing the role of a benevolent king.” He brought the hilt of his sword level to his face, point held upward. Now that he knew what Class Magni was, he no longer had to hold back. He was done testing the waters. “[Incandescent Weapon].” The gems sparkled in response. White smoke rose from the blade’s edge like dozens of little threads, vanishing a few feet above the sword.

“[Open Gate],” Magni said, then repeated the Spell. Two black portals opened—one beside his discarded greatsword and the other to his immediate right. Without ever taking his eye off Cailu, Magni reached into the nearest portal. Cailu watched from a distance as Magni’s hand came through the exit, grabbing the greatsword and pulling it inside. With Magni’s sword back in his hands, he waved his arm through the air, murmuring, “[Bridge the Gap].” The two gates vanished, morphing into small violet-and-black orbs which flew toward Magni. He inhaled deeply as the spheres entered his chest.

Cailu settled into a fighting stance once more, breathing steadily. [Void Walker] was a Class that depended on its [Myana Points] and portals to get anything done. A defensive style was more appropriate if he wished to keep the upper hand. He prayed that his taunts had encouraged aggressive behavior.

“[Open Gate]!” Magni cried.

A portal began to open beneath Cailu’s feet. He rolled to his left, swiping his sword at the swirling blackness on his way. White light trailed from Scorn’s tip as it arced across the portal, dispelling Magni’s gate. A gut-wrenching shriek sounded from the dark void before it closed. The arc of light remained as Cailu shifted back to standing.

Magni frowned. “[Shadow Double]!”

Cailu turned around, swinging his sword across the chest of the Magni copy that was forming from Cailu’s shadow. The fiend given life screamed, its voice echoing against the dueling grounds like a banshee. Cailu looked over his shoulder to see Magni with his greatsword over one shoulder and the [Void Walker]’s signature chain wrapped around his other arm.

“[Bind]!” Magni cried.

The chains around Magni’s arm came to life, lunging for Cailu like dozens of snakes.

“[Mirror Shield]!” Cailu stepped forward, then dug his back foot into the dirt to brace for the impact. The chains clanged against his shield, reversing direction toward Magni.

“[Shadow Leap]!” With Magni’s command, a portal opened in front of him, the chains vanishing inside. Immediately after, another portal appeared beside Cailu, and Magni jumped through—the redirected chains wrapped securely around his wrist again—and swung the chains back out at Cailu, wrapping around his shield.

Magni pulled, ripping the shield away from Cailu and throwing it behind him.

Cailu reeled, hissing in breath and resetting his footing.

Magni laughed. “Leaving already?” He readied the chains, then unleashed them at Cailu once more.

Cailu staggered backward, cutting at the incoming chains. The light of Scorn vanquished the chains, sending them up into the air like wisps of smoke. Magni advanced, swinging his hunk of steel at Cailu’s side. Scorn pivoted to block the blow, rattling with the contact and sending a shudder throughout Cailu’s entire being.

“You’re mine!” Magni broke the clinch, stepping forward to kick Cailu square in the chest. The impact sent Cailu flying several feet. Magni easily closed the distance on foot with [Tailwind] for an overhead swing.

“[Call Arms]!” Cailu’s shield flew back to his arm, and he raised it to block the incoming blow.

“Hell take you, Cailu!” Magni bellowed. “[Umbral Blade]!” The greatsword’s disheveled form changed as if the weapon were shedding its skin. Chunks of iron and steel evaporated into thin air, revealing a serpentine-shaped sword of black underneath.

“It’s over.” Magni swung with all his might, and the ebony blade soared through the air.

Cailu screamed. The shield, his gauntlet—neither had managed to deflect the blow. Blood seeped through his armor, splattering his ornate silver plate. Magni continued his onslaught, and Cailu could feel the bones of his forearm splintering.

“How does it feel?” Magni whispered. “To know your life is at an end? To know everything you’ve worked for will disappear before your eyes?” A chuckle escaped his lips. “[Force of Will].” With Magni’s Spell, the weight of his blade increased.

“You tell me,” Cailu hissed. “[Martyr’s Vengeance].” At his command, an unassailable force blew Magni backward, forcing him to disengage. The greatsword separated from Cailu’s flesh, a sickening crack following. [Martyr’s Vengeance] offered an initial blast and Stat increases, but it would take more than that to keep Magni at bay.

Cailu rose to his feet, panting. “[Vanquish the Dark]!” He turned Scorn around and plunged it into the ground. A second wave pushed Magni farther back, and a cool breeze blew around the elf, enveloping him in white winds. The sleek ebony greatsword reformed into its initial decrepit appearance. Blessedly, the effects of [Vanquish the Dark] had begun to stop the bleeding. While the Spell could do nothing to mend bones, it kept the blood in his body.

“The devil is this?” Magni grunted, his eyes wide. “What have you done to my sword?”

Cailu leveled his gaze, ripping Scorn out and holding the blade’s point toward Magni. “Your Spell is forfeit.” He didn’t have much time, as [Vanquish the Dark] only afforded him a mere ten seconds of safety. With a trembling sword hand, Cailu brought Scorn close to his face and muttered, “[Burn the Wicked].”

Cailu’s vision narrowed as the stacks of Zealotry clouded his mind—a terrible side effect of [Burn the Wicked]. Each stack granted him Dexterity and Strength, and, in turn, Cailu was forced to fight against a slew of painful memories.

It was enough to drive a man insane.

His breath caught in his throat when the hallucination worsened. An intimately familiar woman and child appeared beside Magni. They were holding hands, smiling, and waving to Cailu. The corner of his mouth twitched in fury.

They are not real. Fera and Heiki are… they are gone. You will never see them again.

Cailu closed his eyes, breathing in and out. When he opened them, the ghosts of his past were gone. “[Searing Weapon]. [Aura Blade],” he snarled. Two ropes of light trailed the blade's edge—one red and the other white. When they joined at the tip, the blade split into two colors, and magic sparked where the colors collided in the center.

At last, the shield brought forth by [Vanquish the Dark] ended, and Magni ran toward Cailu, his blade underhanded. “[Burden the Foolish]!” he cried, his palm extended toward Cailu.

One of Magni’s portals appeared beneath him, immobilizing his feet and slowly pulling him inside. Cailu cursed under his breath. He had no way to dispel the portal. The effects of [Incandescent Weapon] were gone, and his remaining defensive tools on cool down.

While Magni’s attack limited his movements, Cailu could still shift his footing somewhat. He would have less than a second to perform the maneuver. If this did not work, then his life would be forfeit. Tossing the remnants of his shield to the ground beside him, he two-handed Scorn, and settled into a stance common among [Myrmidon]s—[Balance Stance]. He waited and prayed for the moment he needed.

Magni ended his charge and swung, the ragged edge of his greatsword aimed for Cailu’s throat.

“[Third Eye]!” Cailu screamed.

The world slowed, and Cailu saw where the weakest point of Magni’s greatsword was. Striking that point would grant Cailu the highest chance of success. Two finger lengths from the blade's hilt was the slightest flicker of blue-white light.

Now!

Time returned to its normal pace, and Cailu slashed his sword through the air, creating an arc of fire before him. Like a hot knife through butter, the sword and the flame engulfing it streaked through the greatsword, severing blade from hilt. The blade clamored against Cailu’s pauldron before falling to the pitch.

With Magni trapped in his momentum, Cailu thrust his good fist upward, uppercutting the man in the jaw. Magni yelped and reeled backward, flailing as blood stained his teeth and gushed from his mouth. With his concentration broken, the sinkhole caused by [Burden of the Foolish] vanished, and Cailu was back on his feet.

“Let’s finish this,” Cailu growled.

“[Gate to the Shroud],” Magni spat, sanguine droplets pooling in the dirt. A pale green portal appeared before him.

Cailu immediately recognized the Spell. The user could escape into the portal for twenty-four hours, allowing them to recover. It was the second time Cailu had witnessed its utilization, and he would be damned if another person escaped.

“Coward!” Cailu bellowed, throwing Scorn into the portal.

Magni stepped back and watched in horror as the portal turned white for a split second before shattering like glass. “This can’t be—”

Cailu charged Magni and punched him square in the face. Magni stumbled, and Cailu threw another, and another, and another. Magni’s face began to bruise and break under the combined might of [Burn the Wicked] and [Martyr’s Vengeance], and spittles of blood speckled the sand around them. At last, the dragon fell to his knees, gasping for air, his arm held out.

“S-stop!” Magni pleaded.

Cailu stood over the man, casting a shadow over him. “Your reign ends here.”

“No.” Magni covered his face. “It can’t end like this.”

Cailu shoved him backward with the sole of his plated shoe. “[Divine Retribution].” He held out his hand, and a flash of white blanketed the area. A loud ringing permeated the air, rippling and distorting every sound passing through, and then a second later, a beam with enough light to rival the sun shot out from Cailu’s palm, barreling its way through Magni’s chest.

The smell of burning flesh rose from what remained of Magni’s mangled heart. The fallen king reached out and gripped Cailu’s wrist, tears staining his cheeks. As the light faded from his eyes, he spoke a single word. “B-book.”

The strength of his grip faded, and his arm fell to the side.

Magni was dead.