“He’s getting a little bit out of hand.” Caeden frowned in disapproval after Erik managed to nearly kill one of their opponents.

“Oh, get off his back.” Cat jumped in, rolling her eyes. “We’ve been cooped up in the Forge for forever. He’s letting off some steam. Honestly, out of all of us, he’s the best one to send out right now. He can at least put people back together after taking them apart.”

Caeden couldn’t really argue that point, so he let it drop. Instead, he kept his focus on the battle. If he needed to step in to stop Erik from getting out of control, he would. The whole point of this was to mitigate the chances of a war. He knew for a fact that all the kids they were facing were the children of important kings and queens in the Ten Thousand Empires. It wouldn’t go well if they died, not in such an unstable time.

Well, that and Caeden just didn’t like killing. Never had, never will. He used to feel a little more mixed up about that, but thousands of years will give some real clarity. If he could make it out of this Tournament without killing anyone, he absolutely would. And he’d rather Erik didn’t either, even if he didn’t have nearly the same compunction.

Erik was surprisingly ok with murder. Most medical professionals would rather save a life than take one, but Erik was, above all else, pragmatic and efficient. Despite his humor, he always took the path of least resistance. If that meant people died, he was fine with that.

“He’s doing fine.” Lily patted his arm, unwrapping one from around Snowball. She’d decided to keep him out at the moment, just so she could hold him. Caeden didn’t blame her. That Glacial King Kodiak was soft. Not to mention extremely fluffy.

Caeden had Noodle laying around his neck underneath the collar of his robe. The baby dragon was still a baby, even after a few thousand years. He wasn’t going to reach his full growth potential any time soon, especially not after the changes he’d undergone since Caeden had gained the Blade Forge. Their powers were tied, and Noodle hadn’t lost out in that exchange.

“He might get a little overzealous, but he can put together anything he takes apart.” Lily continued. “Plus, it’s almost over.”

She nodded back toward the arena, where Erik was throwing the opposing frontliners across the arena like they were made of paper. Caeden couldn’t imagine what Erik was getting out of all this. He hadn’t even needed to dodge anything yet. He felt like it should be boring, but Erik hadn’t stopped smiling the entire time. And it was one of those weird, creepy smiles he got when he was enjoying something a liiiittle too much.

“Whatever,” Caeden sighed. “I’m just glad we’ll be done without anything going wrong, like yesterday. No more meeting our next opponent in the street or any other random crap. I just want us to get to the end of this tournament without anything else major happening.”

As if to spite him, one of the boxes for the elite head of nations crashed open, windows shattering as a man slammed down onto the arena floor clutching a glaive wrapped in cloth and two gauntlets. Immediately, Caeden was on edge. Not because of the man. His aura sense had picked up on their watcher a while back. This man shared a resemblance to the kid they’d stopped from committing murder in broad daylight yesterday.

He was also strong. Not at the level of Damon or the Central Council, and he definitely lacked a throne. But he was strong. Stronger than Caeden could have hoped to fight two days ago. Now, he was a worthy challenge, but any one of them could have faced him down, despite him likely being several thousand years old. Though Caeden would bet he didn’t break twenty thousand, which was wildly young on the kingdom level.

No, Caeden was concerned by the wrapped glaive. Because that cloth was no ordinary cloth. It was some kind of suppression device masquerading as cloth. Composed of ethertech and infusion on a level he never could have dreamed of before his time in the Forge, it still impressed him now. That was some innovative and advanced stuff.

Which meant whatever it was wrapped around and suppressing must be equally dangerous to make that much suppression necessary.

“I have had enough!” The man yelled, pulling on the gauntlets. Caeden was of half a mind to stop him. But whatever was going on seemed more than some angry parent. Charging in blindly was not the best option. Especially with that glaive sending chills up his spine.

“This ends NOW!” The man yelled. He whipped the glaive to the side, the cloth sliding from it as he did. Instantly, a familiar sensation slammed down on Caeden. A suppression field. But not one like those made by the Revolution’s ethertech, as was obvious once he saw the glaive.

The spear haft with a sword-like blade on the end had a very familiar appearance. Very familiar. After all, Caeden had nearly died defending a similar weapon, which proceeded to lead to the whole chain of events that led Caeden to the CMS facility on the dragon continent and essentially all of the abilities he had gained in the last few days. Looking at the glaive was just the same as looking at the Starry Sea.

Now that he had felt it again, Caeden could feel the difference between this type of suppression and the artificial stuff the Revolution made. This was thicker, deeper. Only now did he realize just how much of the suppressing effect the Heartstone had been absorbing back when he encountered the suppression sword. That field had made controlling his shrouds in any way extremely difficult, whether aura or infusion. The Revolution version merely stopped a shroud from leaving the shrouded’s body. A lesser effect.

The glaive, not having been submerged partially into a monster-generated object, was in full effect. Controlling one’s shroud would be entirely impossible inside its range. It was far worse than a suppression field.

The man laughed, seeming supremely confident with the glaive in his hands. Caeden briefly wondered how he was holding it, but the answer was obvious. Those gauntlets. He’d be interested in getting a better look at them to see what was going on there. His attention snapped back to the man holding the glaive once he started talking.

“I don’t know how you all managed to do what you’ve done, and I don’t care. You’re all going to die here as the first sacrifices to the glorious rising of the Vast Kingdom.” He glared across the arena. “However, if you tell me how you managed to gain so much strength in so little time, I might be willing to spare you.”

Caeden nearly rolled his eyes. He knew an empty promise when he heard one. This man was planning to kill them the first chance he got; he was just fishing for information before he did. Badly, Caeden had to add. He wasn’t even really trying to be convincing. Likely he was relying on the unsettling effect of the glaive to throw them off. Unfortunately for him, Caeden and his friends were some of the only people on the Starry Sea who had encountered something similar.

“Cae, I think that’s King Harmon,” Lily whispered. With the suppression around them, there were no worries about being overheard for once. Especially with the king a good hundred feet away.

“What, the guy who sent assassins after us? Working with the Revolution?” He whispered back.

“Yes, I looked him up. Just so I knew him by sight. The comment about his kingdom rising just confirmed it.”

“So the kid we stopped yesterday…” Caeden glanced between the two and the undeniable family resemblance.

“His son, Simon. I didn’t think about it at the time because he was so weak. Simon is supposed to be a prodigy. Our increased strength threw me off. I didn’t think it was him. I knew Harmon’s son was on the team facing us today, but I didn't think it was him. I should have looked into them more, but I wasn’t worrying about any of the youth matches.” She sounded almost apologetic.

“Neither was I,” Caeden shook his head. How could they have predicted something like this? Blatant rule-breaking in the middle of a match. Plus, this Harmon guy made it sound like he somehow knew about their power growth. But that should be impossible.

That thought nearly made Caeden laugh at himself. Impossible had been the watchword of his life for the last year, not including time spent in another freaking dimension. One that he somehow owned. The idea that someone had somehow gleaned their new strength was low on the list of surprises for him.

“Well? I’m a busy man. Speak, or I’ll end your life here and now.” Harmon sneered.

Caeden couldn’t help it. The man was so pompously arrogant that it was almost a caricature of nobility. He laughed. Once he started, he couldn’t stop laughing. Soon, he was bending over and clutching his sides with tears in his eyes.

“Have you gone mad from fear, stupid peasant child? No matter, these others can tell me what I want to know.” He strode forward, passing by Erik casually, as if he wasn't there. What did he have to fear, after all? Everyone here was as powerless as an unshrouded, and he had a weapon that could kill with a touch.

“Let this be a warning to the rest of you. I only need one.” He thrust out with the glaive right toward Caeden’s head.

A screech of metal on metal rang out as the sword Caeden was suddenly holding blocked the thrust. Harmon stared at it, unable to understand how it could be there. After all, Caeden hadn’t had a weapon in hand a second ago. Besides, the glaive should have cleaved through any weapon.

“You asked me if I was laughing because I was mad.” Caeden casually, pushed back, throwing the glaive off his sword. “No. I was laughing because. It’s. So. Damn. Funny.”

“H-how?” Harmon stuttered.

“You wouldn’t know this, but I’ve seen a weapon just like that before. I recently had a lot of time to think and work, and one of the things that took a lot of my time and attention was a little project. I wondered if I could forge a weapon capable of standing up to something exactly like that glaive. Just out of curiosity, you know?”

He looked down at the sword in his hand. A typical steely grey, there was nothing visually special about its design or appearance. “It looks like I did a pretty good job.”

“But that’s not the funny part.” Caeden continued. “Because I’m sure you’re thinking about how I got the sword. Shrouds shouldn’t work inside the suppression field.”

“Yes, how-” Harmon tried to speak, only to cut himself off as Caeden started his attack. The plain-looking sword clashed with a glaive of stars and galaxies. And the sword was winning. Harmon was no expert fighter, Caeden could tell.

“See, you also didn’t know that my shroud‒well, one of them‒is Blade Forge. Your glaive there falls inside my domain.”

“That shouldn’t-ugh.” Harmon was once again cut off, but this time by a kick to the gut as Caeden worked his way inside the glaive’s range.

“No, that shouldn’t matter.” Caeden agreed, casually batting aside another swing. Harmon really wasn’t skilled with the glaive at all. It was almost sad. “The suppression is down all the way to my soul; I can feel it. Whatever that’s made of, it literally stops your shroud from accessing its domain. Somehow. Still not clear on that.”

“But see, my shroud isn’t like any other.” Caeden parried another wild swing, giving Harmon a smack on the wrist with his sword for the effort. He would have lopped it off, but Harmon was at least skilled enough to twist out of the way. “Unlike you or anyone else, I own my domain. My connection to my domain isn’t the paper-thin thing you all have. That beefier connection, plus my domain’s inherent control over bladed objects, means the field can’t touch me. My shroud works just fine.”

“Impossib-fuck!” Harmon cursed as Caeden’s sword whistled past his cheek, the sudden thrust almost catching him.

“Don’t talk to me about impossible.” Caeden snorted. “I’ve had more than enough experience with it to know people use that word a little too lightly. Anyway, not the point. Because none of that is the actual funny thing.”

Caeden stepped forward, further inside the glaive’s range. There was little Harmon could do with it now that he was this close. “The funny part is, you’re going to die because of that glaive.”

Harmon jumped back, trying to gain enough distance to use his weapon properly. His aura was suppressed by the field, just like everyone else's. So he didn’t notice the half-dozen swords that appeared in the air behind him with a brief flash of glowing orange shroud. He certainly noticed them when they buried themselves into his torso.

“Ughao. Gauoh.” Inarticulate noises and wet breathing came out of the king’s throat. His shroud tried to heal him, but it couldn’t. Just as impaired from that process as any other.

“See, that.” Caeden pointed at the rivulets of blood gushing from around the swords. “That’s the funny part.”

The glaive clattered to the ground as the king passed out. Immediately, Caeden darted forward, ripping the gauntlets off Harmon’s hands and picking up the glaive. A brush of his shroud showed him that he couldn’t send it to the Forge with merely a manifestation.

Quickly, Caeden summoned his Incarnation, the Forged throne appearing behind him. Without a moment to waste, Caeden pulled out an Entry Blade and dropped the glaive through it.

“Erik, get over here and keep this one alive.” Caeden pointed at the fallen king. With the suppression effect now gone, his Healing shroud would work.

“I thought you were killing him,” Erik asked, even as he moved to fix the extensive damage to Harmon’s torso.

“Nahh, I don’t want to kill him if I don’t have to. I just said that to freak him out.”

Erik gave him a look.

“What? He’s a dick. Just because I don’t want to murder him doesn’t mean I can’t have a little fun with him.” Caeden defended himself.

“Whatever dude, not my problem.” Erik shrugged. “He’s all good; what now?”

“You and Cat should seal his shroud, and I’ll throw him in the Forge. The kids can build a prison.” Caeden thought out loud as his mind churned through a workable plan. “Actually, that’s a great idea! Why didn’t I think of that earlier? Hurry up, please. Everyone else won’t be out for long. We need to get him tucked away before anyone notices. That way, we can claim innocence.”

All other shrouded in the arena had passed out under the full effect of the glaive. The only reason Caeden’s team hadn’t was because of their prior experience. Well, Asherta had. She had never experienced that kind of suppression before.

“Uh, Cae,” Cat said, her tone oddly wary. “I think we’ve got other problems.”

“What? What else could go wrong?” Caeden snapped back in irritation. This was a pretty sensitive situation. He was abducting a king of a foreign nation. What could possibly be more important?

“Look up.”

Caeden looked up.

“Oh. Shit.”

Up in the sky above Baserock, there was a massive, gargantuan hole in the air. And through it was coming an armada of etherships, led by the single largest vessel Caeden had ever seen. It dwarfed the island itself in size.

“Ok, that’s a bigger problem.”