Zukan leapt down the stairs like a drake devouring its prey. He landed hard against the concrete floor, and the house shook for the second time that day. His shield filled Kalden’s vision, a burning sun against a black void.

Kalden dodged right, forcing his opponent to step between him and his allies. Too slow. The shield caught his shoulder, burning through his shirt and the skin beneath. The impact would have broken bones if it weren’t for his Cloak technique.

Many Blade Artists used shields in battle. Shields were the most natural type of Construct, quick to forge and easy to control. But Zukan was a Sunspear Artist from a line of dragon warriors. His aspect combined fire and blade mana into a force of pure destruction. Not only could his shield block most attacks, but it was a weapon in its own right.

The dragon swiped his flaming spear in a wide arc. Like Tori, he altered the size mid-motion, doubling its length in the space of a breath.

Kalden ducked at the last second, feeling the heat of the weapon pass over his head. A vertical strike forced him to dodge left, then his opponent charged again.

Kalden knew better than to parry attacks like those. Not only was Zukan the top duelist in their class, but he stood almost seven feet tall, with muscles like carved marble. For all that, he fought with the grace of a Shokenese Blade Master, never leaning too hard on his strength, never using more force than he needed.

Kalden cycled battle mana, his mind racing for an opening. But he wouldn’t find one. Even among the top ten, Zukan fought in a league of his own. Tori had once faced the dragon in a friendly match. She’d lost within thirty seconds, never landing a single hit.

How do you beat a stronger opponent who doesn’t make mistakes?

Coleman’s basement was almost pitch-black, which meant Zukan would probably use his Silver Sight. Silver Sight revealed mana-based attacks, but it also blurred and darkened your vision. This left you vulnerable to your surroundings.

Give him two undesirable options.

So Kalden did what no one would expect. He stopped cycling his mana. He shrouded his soul and made himself invisible against the darkness.

The dragon swung his spear again, slicing through glass alchemy tubes, leaving molten destruction in his wake. Kalden ducked and scrambled between two tables. Then he attacked with anything he could find. He rolled a chair between the dragon’s legs and hurled a cauldron at his face. He threw glass vials and steel utensils, always in motion.

Zukan adapted well, reacting to each attack with perfect precision. Some, he dodged or parried. Others, he ignored completely. It was as if he’d rehearsed this fight long in advance, and now he trusted his body to move through the motions.

But Kalden had thrown his opponent off balance. Zukan didn’t show it, but Kalden was still alive. That was all the evidence he needed.

Besides, he was only the bait in this fight.

~~~

Akari hunched with Relia in the shadows, waiting for the right moment to strike. That moment came ten seconds into the fight when Kalden stopped cycling his mana. Clever. This would force Zukan to switch back to his mundane vision, leaving himself open to mana attacks.

Relia stepped into the light of the staircase, unleashing several Death Missiles at the mighty dragon. As always, she'd wrapped these techniques in a pure mana casing to overcome her aspect’s slow nature. They took time to make, but Kalden’s distraction had bought her that.

Zukan threw his shield over his shoulder in one fluid move. The golden disc covered his back, floating in place as he fought. Too bad that wouldn’t save him. Relia’s mana would—

The disc broke into a wheel of six burning blades. Each blade doubled in length, and the entire Construct spun like a miter saw, shredding Relia’s attacks to mist.

Talek’s tits and teeth. He couldn’t have forged that Construct on the spot. He’d known Relia would strike from behind, and he’d prepared accordingly. In that moment, Akari had to admit a grudging respect for the dragon. It was easy to see him as a brute who’d gotten ahead on raw power, or the nature of his aspect. But nothing was that simple in the Artegium. Even less so in the top ten.

But Akari didn’t worry about Zukan. She kept her eyes on the staircase where Arturo Kazalla emerged right on schedule. They’d always known he was up there. AMPs and grenades just weren’t Zukan’s style.

The Cadrian boy raised a pair of pistols and fired at Relia’s exposed flank. At the same time, Akari hurled a spacetime Missile up the staircase and activated the Construct she’d placed on Relia’s left shoulder. Arturo’s bullets flew straight through the portal, and he shot himself from behind.

She didn’t wait to see if the bullets landed. Relia spun around so the portal on her shoulder faced Akari, and Akari charged toward it. She’d hoped to find Arturo injured, or still focused on Relia. Instead, he pointed his pistols straight into the portal.

Akari ducked and slid on the concrete floor, firing another spacetime Missle through the portal. The mana flew above Arturo’s shoulder and landed on the drywall above the broken staircase. Akari bound it with the portal on Relia’s shoulder. Relia ducked, and the momentum of Akari’s slide carried her through.

She emerged above Arturo before he had time to spin around. She formed a blade of pure mana as she fell, crashing into his shoulders and driving the blade into his collarbone.

They fell in a heap of tangled limbs, crashing down the broken staircase onto the concrete floor. Arturo dropped a pistol as they fell, and Akari caught it before they hit the ground. Then she aimed the muzzle at his chest and squeezed the trigger.

~~~

Kalden scrambled back to one corner of the lab, barely dodging a storm of flaming blades. He might be invisible now, but basements weren’t known for their wide fighting spaces. A Mana Artist like Zukan didn’t need eyes to finish him.

Relia threw another Death Missile, forcing the dragon to pivot on his heel and slash the attack with his spear. Sensing victory, Kalden leapt right and cycled his mana once again. A crimson blade formed in his hand, and he closed in for the kill.

His opponent formed a second weapon of his own, knocking Kalden’s aside with a quick slash. The force of it hurled Kalden into a nearby workstation. His torso slid across the table’s steel surface, taking several glass tubes along for the ride.

Zukan finally lost his balance as he spun back toward Relia, tripping over a rolling chair, landing on one knee. Kalden recovered and leapt back into the fray, but Zukan was quicker. The dragon sent a burst of fire into the concrete floor, whirling both weapons as he sprang back to his feet.

Several bullets fired from across the lab, but Kalden couldn’t see who shot whom. He kept his eyes on his opponent, dodging another spear and leaping closer. Then several things happened at once. Zukan threw Kalden hard against the wall and brought a golden spear to his throat. He stuck a second spear into Relia’s thigh, causing her to stumble.

But Relia had made it through his outer defenses, and death mana shot out from her palm. Time slowed as the green-gold mist formed a hook around the dragon’s throat. That technique would kill Zukan, but he wouldn’t die alone.

“Stop!” Kalden shouted.

He hadn’t expected that to work, but everyone stopped moving. Relia froze with the death mana hook in midair, and Zukan stood like a statue with his flaming blade mere inches from Kalden’s face.

Arturo lay near the staircase with white mist bleeding from his shoulder, and a layer of ice spreading over his chest. Akari knelt above him with a pistol pointed at his forehead. She looked unharmed, but Arturo pointed a second pistol straight back at her.

“We’re at a stalemate,” Kalden announced to the room. “Let’s work something out.”

Zukan opened his mouth for the first time, and his voice was deep and gravelly. “You think I’ll deal with you, human? I saw you betray your own army.”

Kalden drew in several deep breaths, marshaling his thoughts. Zukan stood less than a foot away from him now, wearing a fitted black button-up shirt that hung open to reveal his scale-covered chest. His skin was the color of tree bark, and his eyes glowed orange in the light of his burning weapons.

“Look around you,” Kalden said. “We only have two options. We can die together, or we can work out a deal.”

Zukan raised an eyebrow at that. Or rather, he raised the dragon-equivalent, which was just a section of raised scales above his eye. “Is that what you told Tori Raizen?”

“I’ve made mistakes in this game,” Kalden said. “But I’m not the only one. Elise betrayed you, didn’t she?”

Zukan’s eye twitched, but he said nothing.

“How’d you escape?” he asked. When nothing was forthcoming, he added, “Numbat dust? I saw the missing vials in the drawer. It pairs well with the camouflage units.”

“It doesn’t matter now,” Zukan said in a low voice.

“You’re right. We can only move forward.”

“You have nothing to offer me, human.”

“I disagree. I’ve seen how hard you train. No one reaches the top of the class by accident. Not in this school. You want to win this game, and the battlegrounds afterward. I can help you do that.”

Zukan narrowed his eyes in suspicion, then they flicked down to Relia’s death mana hook. That took some of the wind from his sails. “Go ahead,” he said. “Make your speech.”

Kalden weighed his options, and each second felt like an eternity with that burning blade by his cheek. Even now, the heat of it caused his face to prickle with sweat. “Should we lower our weapons?”

“Yes please,” came Arturo’s dry voice from across the lab.

“This suits me fine,” Zukan replied. In hindsight, that was no surprise. Kalden and Relia had him outnumbered, and his ally had a bullet in his chest. Things could only get worse from there.

“Elise played you,” Kalden said, “but have you ever wondered why?” He gave Zukan a chance to answer, but the dragon said nothing. He truly was a man of few words. “This spring, my friends and I joined a revolution in Creta.”

“So I’ve heard.” Zukan flicked his gaze back to Arturo as if that explained everything.

“I lost my hand against Dragonlord Antano’s nephew.” Kalden nodded to his blue mana prosthetic, but he hesitated before revealing Akari’s role. He didn’t like sharing her secret without permission, but they hadn’t had time to discuss this. Fortunately, Akari was never one to shy away from the truth. And while they might be on television right now, the Artegium cut scenes that dove too deep into politics or personal secrets.

“Akari killed the Dragonlord’s nephew during the battle. She did it to defend us, and the Dragonlord swore a soul oath not to take vengeance. But his sister has connections, even here, in this very game.”

This part, they would definitely censor. Kalden might even face consequences for implying that Elise was involved in such a plot, but he’d deal with those later. Zukan had a strong sense of justice and honor. Elise had bribed or threatened the others, but not him. He’d sided with her because he actually believed Kalden and his friends were the true villains. He needed to know about Elise’s ulterior motive.

“Bullshit,” Arturo said from across the room. From his tone, it sounded more like a demand for proof than an accusation.

“You saw her projection,” Kalden said. “Think about it—is my group really dangerous enough to warrant that? We might have scored a few more points, but we never stood a chance of winning. Elise wanted to make sure Akari didn’t qualify. That’s the only way this makes sense.”

No one had an answer for that. But Elise had already betrayed Sun Army’s leaders and lied about it in her projection. This was the easy part.

“We’re Elise Moonfire’s biggest threats right now,” Kalden said. “If we kill each other, then we hand her the victory on a golden platter.”

“Okay.” Arturo coughed from over Zukan’s shoulder, struggling to raise his voice. “You and Dawnfire surrender, and we’ll let Zeller go. That gives all three of you a chance to qualify.”

Kalden saw the logic in that deal. He and Relia had probably earned enough points already, even if they died right now. In theory, this would give Akari a chance to catch up with them.

Zukan gave a slow nod. “I will honor that deal.”

“No,” Kalden finally said. “Our only chance is to work together.”

“And trade one backstabber for another?” The dragon fixed him with his reptilian eyes. “Your actions speak louder than anything you say.”

“I need you and Arturo,” Kalden said. If his mother were here, she would scold him for revealing his weakness during a negotiation, but what choice did he have? “Even if my friends and I take the top three spots, we’ll need a team for the interschool battlegrounds. No one else will join us after that stunt Elise pulled. No one who matters, anyway.”

“That’s your problem.” Zukan shrugged his massive shoulders, but his flaming blades remained still. “We already have a team.”

“You might have a decent team, but decent teams don’t place in the battlegrounds.” In that moment, a revelation struck him like the fist of Talek. Everyone said Koreldon University was the best Mana Arts school on the continent, and those claims weren’t without merit. After all, more Mystics had graduated from here than anywhere else in the world.

But if the claims were true, then how come this school rarely ever took first place in the battlegrounds? Why did they always lose to the so-called inferior schools?

The answer hit him with equal force: division was weakness. Kalden had used that fact to tear about the major factions from the inside. He, Relia, and Akari had taken down Blood Army single-handedly. Not because they had more raw power, but because they had trust and unity.

Kalden had been so focused on that goal, he’d never looked at the bigger picture.

“These games tear us apart.” Kalden gestured around with his head, indicating the arena itself. “We’re the only school in Espiria with a televised qualifying round. This system forces the top students to fight each other. They say it hones our skills, but it also breaks our trust. We squabble, and we betray each other for the smallest advantage. Meanwhile, the other schools bring together their best Mana Artists, and those teams crush us every year.”

Zukan’s gaze grew more thoughtful at that. Even Kalden needed a moment to process his own words. Relia and Elend had said similar things over the course of the semester, but he’d never understood their sentiments until this moment. Koreldon University might be the most prestigious school in Espiria, but it was also the oldest. Tradition ran strong through its veins, even at the expense of victory and learning. And Arturo had said it himself: the qualifying rounds brought in more money than all their tuitions combined. Maybe even more than the battlegrounds that followed.

“Everything you say is true,” Zukan replied. “But I’ve known this truth from the start.”

Kalden nodded. “You’re waiting for a perfect world. A world where all your teammates share your beliefs and values. A world where your allies have done nothing wrong. But that world will never exist. Yes, Relia shares an aspect with war criminals. And yes, Akari and I have crossed many lines to stay ahead. Some of our choices have been justified, and others have been mistakes. Lessons we didn’t learn until it was too late.”

Then Kalden did something potentially stupid. He dismissed his crimson blade and nodded for Relia to do the same. She needed little encouragement, and the death mana faded to mist immediately.

Zukan held Kalden’s gaze for several breaths, but he didn’t lower his own weapons.

“Here’s my offer,” Kalden said. “My friends and I don’t care about placing in the qualifying round. We just want to start a team for the battlegrounds. We’ll help you take first place in this game, and in return, you and Arturo will join us.”

Silence reigned, and he saw the gears turning behind Zukan’s golden eyes. Hopefully, he’d been paying attention this semester. Kalden and Akari had started outside the top ten, but they’d also had a heap of disadvantages. If they were to start the semester now, they’d undoubtedly be in the top five. And then there was Relia. Not only was she the best among the second-years, she was also a healer—a priceless member of any team.

Zukan might not like them, but this was his best path toward victory. Not just in this game, but in all the other games that followed.

Kalden drew in a breath and extended his hand.

Zukan stared at it. “We don’t make oaths in the qualifying rounds. It’s just a game.”

“I know,” Kalden said. “The audience loves all the drama and betrayals. It keeps them entertained—lets them feel better about their own lives. Well, to hell with the audience, and to hell with tradition. We all want to be Mystics—everyone in this room. Let’s start acting like it.”

Another moment stretched between them. Zukan seemed to wait for an objection from his teammate, but none came.

Finally, he lowered his spears and clasped Kalden’s wrist.