Lance stood before me, still gasping for breath. He stuttered, "How?"

I savored his confusion. I had been thinking about this moment since I returned to the hilltop the day before. I smiled thinly, holding his gaze. I said,, "Not bad for a shopkeep, eh? I'll see you in the final round, I guess."

He was taken aback by my confidence. I was showing him a different Tiberius now, and I don’t think he liked it. As I walked to the sideline, I could feel everything had changed. I wasn't an afterthought any longer. I was a contender. Maybe, in some minds, I was suddenly the favorite. I couldn’t have called myself favorite, not yet. But the others must have been sweating at my growth. My power was growing faster than anyone's. These noble youths still had something I didn't. We all had the same training; I might even have had better tutoring. But I had come to it later in life that they had. And, the likes of Lance had experience. He hadn't just trained; his father, a lord, had ridden with him to hunt brigands and fiends. He didn't just know the theory; he had lived it. For all I knew, he had killed men.

But for now, I enjoyed the rapture of the moment.. Lauren was staring at me, her mouth still hanging open, seeing me anew, and I loved it. It was exactly how I'd imagined it. The look on Mario's face was perhaps the next best thing. He was pale, his mouth working, opening, and closing without sound.

Eventually, Mario found his voice. "Leona, Katya, to the floor. It's time to send one of you home."

Katya walked to the floor, her head held high. She moved with that same disinterested grace. Her head drifted over to me. I felt like she was assessing me anew. She smiled. I flushed slightly. The way she looked at me incited me to remember her suggestions about marriage and children.

Leona walked awkwardly. She was a wounded animal now, waiting to be put down. I could see wetness on her cheeks, escaping the half-helm. Her suit still smoldered and sparked in places. She was a lamb to the slaughter, and she knew it. I could see the others who had ganged up on Katya shifting uneasily. They had set this in motion, and now they felt they were about to watch a preview of how Katya would deal with them as well.

Mario dropped the flag, and the fight began.

Katya circled Leona, toying with her. She poked and prodded, danced around. At first there was interest from us, some tension. After a time,, I thought it was cruelty, toying with one of the ones who had schemed against her. But the time dragged on and on. Feet began to shuffle. I realized Katya was prolonging her time in the suit, practicing. Leona was her hapless practice dummy. Leona whimpered and cried, trying her best, but knowing her time in the Choosing was done. She could have yielded. She should have. But honor would not permit it.

Katya finally decided to end it. With a violent strike, her own sword blazed to life as she acquired the cut attribute. The strike smashed Leona to the ground.

Mario shouted, "Match!"

He stepped forward. I could see he was about to enjoy playing the ceremony again. "Leona, you have fought bravely, but your time in the Choosing has come to an end. The Oracle does not favor you this day. With your departure, the number of competitors dwindles. Where once there were nine, now there are eight. Step forward and remove your suit."

Leona, tears streaming down her face, slowly walked to Mario. The suit was removed, and she stood there, exposed and defeated. We all watched her. It was a sober moment. We all had to be thinking the same thing. The same fate awaited all but one of us eventually.

Mario stepped forward again. His voice carried a strain, he couldn’t quite conceal his disbelief as he said my name. "Lance and Tiberius, to the ring for the final match of the day. The winner of this bout will gain immunity."

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The look in Mario's eyes was delicious. He looked on me with no less disdain, but there was a incredulity there that made the whole effort worthwhile.

As Lance and I faced each other, I could see a change in him as well. The smugness was gone. It was replaced with a seriousness. He sensed a threat from me. I wondered if maybe he was even a little afraid. He had written me off, and yet, here I was.

He looked like a soldier ready for battle. This was not the Lance I had faced before; this was a Lance who was genuinely paying attention to me.

Mario raised his hand, the flag held high. After a few beats, he dropped it. As it fluttered to the ground, the battle began.

We clashed with a fury that sent sparks flying from our swords. The cut attribute lit our blades with a fierce light. Glowing blade hammered into glowing blade. Lance's strikes were powerful, but I could felt like, when our sword met, blazing with CUT, it was his that deflected more than mine.

I might have had an edge in attribute, but I couldn’t account for his own special edge. That killer’s edge.

Our swords crashed against each other over and over. The force of each blow shook my arms. My shield attribute was of little use against the raw power of the cut attribute, but I held my ground. My SHIELD attribute allowed me to weather glancing blows while advancing on him. It was something I could see he wasn’t quite sure how to deal with.

I was determined to win this, to see Lance fall, to gain my immunity for myself. No matter the outcome, no one would look at me the same after today. I was no longer an afterthought.

I hadn’t quite gained the same fluidity in the suit that he had. But I had grown more than he realized. I had feigned my clumsiness on the return to the hilltop. I had spent hours in the suit in the woods. That time had helped me learn to move better.

It all mounted up on him. We continued to clash, but I could expose myself more. I could be more aggressive because I had SHIELD and he didn’t. It let me press him. He could sense the flow of the match gone my way.

Even my feet seemed to be growing more confident. Each moment, with the elation surging in my heart, I felt like movement was getting better and better. Lance’s, if anything, was degrading.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of Lauren. She stood at the edge of the arena, her fists clenched, her eyes locked on me. I could see the intensity there. I knew she was rooting for me, the shopkeeper's son, not Lance, her fellow noble. The uplift of that feeling only added more power to my attack.

The energy of our blades crackled in the air. None of the others could hope to fight like this. I felt myself on the stage, with an audience, and, to my surprise, I found I liked it.

Lance's movements grew more desperate, his swings wilder as he struggled to keep up with me. I pressed the attack, my SHIELD allowing me to push through his defenses and strike at his openings.

The few spectators watched in stunned silence. There was no sound, no chatting. The nobles in the stands leaned forward in their seats. They could believe what was happening no better than Lance could. Lance, who had once been the favorite, was now on the defensive, struggling to hold his ground against me. I could smell the fear on him. I could sense his desperation as he must realize he was no longer the top dog.

The battle raged on. Excitement fueled me and I felt more and more strength in my attack. Lance, on the other hand grew more sluggish. He began to weaken, his steps faltering, his defenses slipping. My sword blazed with energy as I pressed the attack, I would finish this as fast as I could. I had no need of showboating.

He stumbled, backing away, and I saw my opportunity. I closed in for the kill, eyes only for the prize and nothing else.

But in that moment, my folly revealed itself.

Confidence like this was new to me. This kind of power was new to me. It had been easy for Lance to feign weakening because I wanted the moment so badly. I wanted to see him that way. As I overcommitted, he sidestepped with precision, his sword blazing as it struck me in the ribs. The kinetic explosion was deafening. I hurtled through the air, rolling through the dirt like I had been thrown from a horse.

"Match!" Mario called out.

I lay there, gasping, in pain. The world spun around me as Lance walked up, his face blocking the light from above. The smug grin was back on his face, but it lacked the depth of before.

"Still just a shopkeep after all," he said, his words forced.

Even though he had won the round and gained immunity, it wasn't the same. The smug smile was skin deep, the words hollow. I could see in his bearing that he no longer saw this competition as his to lose.

He was afraid of me.