After getting far away from the Inquisitors, I made my return to Fletcher Hall in a hurry and tucked Kylen into his bed. Then, once I'd made sure that Eyes was out of the shared living quarters, I projected my [Status]. The notification that greeted me made me equally excited and confused. I'd seen the unlocked ability, it just had one of the strangest names that I'd heard of.

Ghul

Vestige: The Behemoth (Active)

Might: VI

Arcana: I

Intellect: III

Dexterity: IV

Authority: II

Traits: Strong, Durable

Abilities: Empower I (00.00%) Inflame I (00.03%) Windslash I (00.00%), The Fist That Parts the Sea (00.00%)

It'd cleanly reset the progress I'd been making to evolve both [Windslash] and [Empower], but not my 3rd ability. I wondered if that meant a person truly could only work toward improving one ability at a time. Or, if it was because the new ability seemed to be a combination of both.

[The Fist That Parts the Sea] was a mouthful. Plus, the name of it confused me. Most of the System enhancements I'd gained had been a single word, and this was a noticeable break from that rule. Well, I thought, I could always ask Weiland to take me back to the library. He'd be willing.

I itched to see what it could do in combat. A thought briefly crossed my mind about seeing if any of my hallmates wanted to spar with me. I immediately dismissed it. I realized how stupid it was as I didn't want a repeat of the situation with Kylen, who was already the most sturdy among them. So, that counted out my peers. Maybe I could look amongst some of the more veteran halls? Or, I could check the Lobsterhead announcement board.

I'd not interacted much with older Legionnaires. One of the unofficial rules of Lobsterhead was to stay within your experience level. But, I was sure that some of them were also frantic whilst the fort prepared to leave for war. If there was any time for a special exception to a social rule, it was now. I didn't know if I had the social skill to risk it.

Plus, I didn't want to waste the day because I'd accidentally knocked my training partner out of commission. I was sure Kylen would understand.

I stopped by the Fletcher Commons on my way out. I wanted to see if any of my group was there, mostly so I could tell someone to keep an eye on the unconscious boy. I was pleasantly surprised to find Weiland pacing back and forth with another legal text in hand. I'd never be able to understand what he saw in those. I think my eyes would bleed if I read even a fraction of the amount he did.

I put on my best face and strolled in.

"Weiland, my friend," I greeted. "How are you?"

He shut his book and looked at me like I'd grown another head. "Ghul, what's gotten into you? I don't think I've ever seen you express that level of warmth toward.. well, anyone."

"What can I say? I'm in a good mood, " I grinned. "Say, do you think that you could watch Kylen for me?"

Weiland grimaced. "And is there a reason that Kylen's unable to watch himself?"

I shrugged. "He got hit a little hard, but I think he'll be okay. He's currently conked out in bed so you'll have the easiest task in the world."

That was assuming that Weiland was going to spend the rest of his morning reading, which he probably was. He spent nearly every morning of our free days studying in some form. It wasn't a large favor to ask, but I'd owe him a solid.

"Sure I can," Weiland agreed. Then, his face shifted to look like he'd bitten into something sour. "But I've been meaning to talk to you about something. I just haven't had a chance given how hectic the past few days have been, but do you have a minute to chat?"

"Yeah, I can talk. Is everything alright? You look like someone's told you the world's ending."

He anxiously fiddled with one of the buttons on his collar. I'd never before seen him this flustered.

"Everything's fine," he insisted. "It's just that my father's coming to visit. He's requested to have dinner with everyone that I'm associating myself with, and I made the mistake of mentioning you in a letter home. He'd like to meet you."

He ran his hands through his hair. Another nervous gesture.

"You don't have to come. My father can be a little intense for those who are unfamiliar with him. But, it'd mean a lot to me if you could make it. He's a traditional sort, so he'd like to see us off on the eve of our first march to battle."

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"Is that even a question? Of course, I'll join you and your father for a meal." I said. "There's no place that I'd rather be."

"Awesome! I knew that I could count on you," Weiland broke out into a grin and clapped his hands together.

"Most people are intimidated by his reputation, but I didn't think that you'd be like that. I'm glad that I was right about you. I promise most of the rumors you might've heard around the court are either greatly exaggerated or blatant falsehoods. Except for the seeing orb, which he really does carry everywhere."

"The seeing orb?" I questioned. I suddenly wasn't sure that I had a good idea what intense meant. What the hell was a seeing orb?

"Yeah, I can confirm it's real. Ghul, I just want you to know that I'm impressed by your ability to look past the gossip and machinations of the blooded families. It's a breath of fresh air for someone used to the nest of vipers that is the capital." He reached up and put his hand firmly on my shoulder. "I won't forget this."

"Uh-huh." I nodded.

"He'll be here early tomorrow, but you won't need to meet him until dinner if you don't want to. He's meeting with some of the fort's officers to discuss the logistics of the invasion."

I knew that Weiland's father was a politician, but I had no idea what capacity he actually served in. I'd automatically assumed that he was as bookish as his son and dismissed him out of hand, which might've been a mistake.

Everything Weiland had said only further convinced me that I had no idea what I'd just agreed to. I knew nothing about court or the gossip and rumors of the powerful. But it was just a dinner, I thought, so how bad could it possibly be?

* * *

A few hours later, I stood on the stoop of Ephialtes Hall. The building was in a different style than Fletcher, it had much more natural lighting and greenery. They even had an above-ground training rink, a circle of colored sand and bricks in the center of a courtyard. It was also much closer to the Citadel.

They'd put out a bulletin searching for semi-capable soldiers for an evening excursion, and I'd figured that I qualified as capable enough. The flier they'd hung was remarkably vague; it only said something about needing bodies and that there'd be fighting. It'd drawn my eye because it was simple. Plus, it was the only one that I could attend on such short notice. The reward field was noticeably blank, but I didn't care. It let me practice with [The Fist That Parts The Sea].

I knocked twice on the door and waited. A few moments later, a disheveled man with a partially shaven beard came to answer it. The edge of where he'd shaved looked dark as ash like it'd been burnt off at some point recently. My frame filled the entirety of his doorway.

"Y'know, you're blocking the sun," He said. "How can I help you?"

"Greetings. I'm here about the poster that said that you needed bodies capable of violence. I assure you, I can scrap with the best of them." I raised my bandaged fist to emphasize the point.

He looked me up and down.

"I can't quite put a finger on why... but I believe you. C'mon in and those of us that are left will explain the situation to you. You've got to be willing to get your hands dirty tonight, and I can almost promise that we'll be attacked by the end of it."

I stepped into the Hall and immediately smacked my head against a support beam.

"Ouch, I probably should've warned you. There are plenty of those hanging around. It usually isn't a problem for those of us who live here. Or, those of us who did live here. My name's Patton, by the way."

Patton took me into a room where a fireplace burnt softly on a far wall. A half-dozen exhausted-looking people waited gathered around it. None of their clothing was clean, and the best of them smelled like they hadn't bathed in days. They looked desperate.

A brunette who'd been tending the fire greeted Patton as we walked in.

"Who's this? Another person who's come to tell us that our friends are cowards?" Her tone was cold. She sounded like she'd been having a bad day, but I didn't think her animosity was directed at me.

Patton shook his head.

"He's here about the poster. He's interested in helping tonight."

"Someone responded to the flyer you put up?" She laughed, but it sounded hollow. "I didn't think there were any kind souls left in the Legion, so I'm glad to see I was wrong. What's your name?"

"I'm Ghul, and I serve out of Fletcher Hall. I'm looking for some additional practice before we march, so I ended up here. What do you all need help with? No offense or nothin', but you don't exactly look like you're ready for a fight."

The faces around me were puffy and streaked with dried tears. They looked like they belonged at a funeral, not a battlefield. Of the six individuals assembled, only Patton looked to be in the right state of mind for combat. I'd judged his sloppy beard too harshly.

"Well met, Ghul. I'm Sasha. We'll be ready to fight when the time comes. We owe them that much." She looked around at the other members of the melancholic room. Each of them nodded at her. An unspoken understanding passed between them.

I frowned. "Owe who?"

Somehow, I still had no idea what I'd volunteered to help out with. I'd figured out that it was something personal to them, but no one had outright said what had happened.

"The rest of Ephialtes Hall," Patton said. "You're going to want to sit down. It's quite the story."

Patton seemed sensible. The man hadn't led me astray and I fancied myself a decent judge of character, so I sat down by the fire and listened to what they had to say.

The tale they wove for me was a grim one. It went as so: Some two days earlier, Ephialtes Hall had been assigned the duty of patrolling the fort's sewer system for a week. It was a punishment for a brawl they'd gotten into with another group. They'd decided to split into two squads: nightshift and dayshift. Then, after The Psychic Prince had launched his attack on the fort, the entirety of the dayshift group failed to return from their afternoon rounds in the sewer.

Lobsterhead's commanders were convinced they'd just succumbed to the pressure of a mental attack and run off. They'd not been branded as cowards but rather the first casualties of the war. Still, it was a stain on the reputation of the entire group. The remainder of Ephialtes Hall thought that something much more sinister had befallen them. They'd been a close-knit group, and Sasha swore up and down that they were experienced enough to resist mind intrusion. I believed her. It served no purpose to exaggerate the abilities of the missing.

She'd gone ahead and poked her head back into the sewers herself, and had found nothing except a set of unusually large clawed prints. A beast whose claws were the length of a hand, attached to long, tapered fingers. Unlike a person, the creature below seemed to walk on its hands like they were paws. It'd been dismissed by Legion as nothing, but I knew what Sasha described. It was a Horror, of that I had no doubt.

They were going try kill it and bring back its corpse to prove that Ephialtes Hall hadn't been home to cowards. They'd accepted their friends were probably deceased, and saw vengeance as the way forward. They'd put out an ad to try and garner more of a combat unit. I'd been the only one who responded.

That was just my luck. I had a monster to hunt, and I didn't feel like sharing more than I had to. It'd be excellent practice for [The Fist That Parts the Sea]. Plus, I wouldn't mind the boost of power that came from stealing a Horror's nanites.

If Zeus smiled upon us, the Horror'd be dead by sunrise. And I'd be the one to kill it.