Chapter 93

Leona and Zara were at the fort’s receptacle. Their weapons were embedded in the orb, depositing the Flows. Olaf stood over us, his face to the arena. He was like his suit, battered but resilient. He was like a mountain weathering the storm. Mountains could outlast many storms. And Olaf looked like he had much left in him. I felt like I was seeing him for the first time.

We had started with such a lead. By my mental math, we still had a lead. Maybe Leona and Zara were depositing the last Flows we'd need to 50. But I doubted that. That would be too easy.

I glanced at Olaf. I said, “Why aren't any more orbs rising?”

He shrugged. His attitude toward me was conflicted—how could it not be? To him, I was a commoner suddenly standing on the precipice of becoming one of the most powerful individuals in the city, someone who could ascend far beyond him in social rank should I win the Sword. But I was also the one who had humiliated him during the earlier stages of the Choosing by ending his time in the arena. I could sense his resentment, but also his need to cooperate if he wanted to win the Flow for his family. A part of me wondered if, deep down, he was rooting for me or hoping I would fail.

“They came so fast before,” I muttered, more to myself than him. “What’s happening? Are the organizers giving us time to rest, for the teams to regroup…?” I frowned, suspicious. “Is this for Lance's benefit somehow?”

Olaf shook his head. “The organizers won't do things to benefit one team,” he said with quiet certainty. “The Choosing is fair, sacred. That's the Oracle's will.”

I raised an eyebrow at him, biting back the urge to correct him. Fair? Sacred? I wanted to laugh. The entire contest had been stacked against me from the start, obstacles and manipulations thrown in my path. And yet, here I was, still standing, still fighting. No, the Choosing wasn’t fair. I’d seen too many signs of that already.

But I swallowed my retort, allowing the thought to hang in the air instead. My mind churned with consideration. The delay wasn’t some benevolent pause to allow us all to recover—it had a purpose. And as the pieces clicked together in my mind, I realized what was happening. We had already deposited what little Flow we had managed to secure. Gideon’s team had likely done the same with the remnants of their last orb. But Lance… Lance's team had been completely free to absorb what I suspected was a high-value orb near their base. They needed more time to deposit it.

The organizers were giving them that time.

Fair? My ass.

Then, the voice came to me again. It said, "Why haven't you tried boosting, Tiberius?"

Boosting?

There had been so much going on, so fast. I hadn't thought to boost. The strength of my hands and my sword had seemed like they would be enough.

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I blinked

Boosting. Among Griidlords, the Sword had a special ability. The Sword could boost. The nature of the power was unknown. Whether it was Order or Entropy, I didn’t know. But they could send this strength, from this unknown source, and use it to enhance their teammates. I had completely overlooked it.

I said. "I haven't even tried to..."

Then I paused. I stammered. "I don't know if I can."

The voice was not best pleased with me. It said, "How would you know if you haven't even tried? You think Gideon and Lance haven’t?

I looked at my hands, considered a power that was there that I hadn’t even considered. “I don’t know how… Gideon and Lance haven’t been using it…”

“Please. Felix was boosted the whole time he was fighting you. Why do you think he dominated you so easily? Yes, the Axe has an advantage over the Sword, but you’re too skilled for one as pathetic as him to have bested you so thoroughly without help. Gideon was there, boosting him, making Felix stronger, while you floundered like a helpless child."

I felt like a fool. It made perfect sense now. Felix wasn’t skilled enough to have dismantled me on his own. Gideon had been there, fortifying him, while I was too blind to notice. All because of my arrogance, my new obsession with my own power.

I took a deep breath, feeling the weight of my failure. "How do I...?" I began to ask, unsure of what to do next.

And then, as though responding to my thoughts, my HUD flickered. A circular reticule appeared, locking onto Olaf. It was like a target, and I could feel it pulling at me, like a whirlpool drawing me in. Suddenly, I understood. I knew how to do it. I had no idea if it was the suit responding to me or if it was the voice guiding me, but I knew how to boost now. It was almost instinctual.

I saw Olaf’s shoulders slump as his eyes drifted upward. I followed his gaze to the banners hanging above the forts, and my heart sank. The banners had changed, and it wasn’t good.

We had leapt to 47—just shy of the 50 points we needed to secure our place. I cursed under my breath. Just a few more moments, and Leona and Zara could have drawn enough Flows from the orb to get us past the threshold. But we had been forced to abandon it before we could finish, leaving us vulnerable.

“Yes, boy,” the voice hissed in my ear, “but another few moments and your suit would have been a sparking wreck, and your team obliterated.”

The truth stung. We had made the right call, retreating when we did, but the frustration was bitter. I seethed at my failure to find that last ounce of power, at the wasted opportunity to boost my teammates. All because I had been ignoring the voice, pushing it away, letting the warnings of madmen like Danefer cloud my judgment. If I had been listening, the voice would have reminded me to boost my teammates. That small edge could have made all the difference, allowing Zara and Leona to finish drawing the Flows and securing our place.

Gideon’s score had risen to 38. He had absorbed an entire orb uncontested, likely worth another 20 points, and then scooped up the last few Flows from the orb we had abandoned. He was too close now. Too close to overtaking us.

Curiously, Lance stood at 30. His team had only secured one orb, but it must have been a high-value one. His position was tenuous. I couldn’t help but smile grimly. The idea of Lance failing to even reach the final round filled me with a mean satisfaction. If I could get through today and face either him or Gideon in the final round, I was more than confident in my ability to secure victory.

But first, we had to survive this day. We had to reach 50 points.