“Welcome to the Tombbreaker's estate,” the servant said to Zach.

"Yeah, thank you."

The servant, an older woman with sharp features softened only by the slight stoop in her posture, motioned for him to follow. She guided him down wide, dimly lit hallways lined with antique paintings and the faint smell of aged wood. The estate was quiet, and the only sound coming from their footsteps was echoing on the marble floors.

“This will be your room,” she announced, stopping in front of a modest oak door.

Zach stepped inside and looked around. The room was smaller than his quarters back at the Third City, but still well-furnished. A sturdy bed, a writing desk, and a small wardrobe filled the space. A single window offered a view of the sprawling estate grounds outside.

“It’s good,” Zach said after a moment. “Are all the rooms here empty like this?”

“No. Only six others, currently,” she replied briskly. “During the day, clothes and necessities suited to your size and needs will be placed here.”

“Thanks,” he said, dropping his bag on the bed. "By the way, what's your name?"

"Sarah."

"No family name?"

"Not one I'm proud of."

The servant left without another word, leaving Zach alone. He stared out the window for a moment, taking in the sight of the estate gardens below.

Later, as he walked outside to clear his mind, he spotted Melijuia. She was in an all-white dress.

“Hey,” Zach called out, strolling toward her with his hands in his pockets.

Melijuia turned to face him. “Zach. Settling in alright?”

He nodded. “Yeah. Room’s really nice. Different than what I had back in Third City, but I'm grateful.” He paused, studying her. “What about you? How are you holding up… you know, with the war? Are you anxious?”

Her face darkened for a moment, and she let out a dry laugh. “Am I anxious? Of course, I’m anxious. Why wouldn’t I be? People here—friends, soldiers, people I’ve seen and interacted with for years—some of them won’t make it back. A lot of them won’t.” She shook her head, her voice tight. “It’s hard not to think about it.”

Zach hesitated, unsure what to say. He wanted to offer something reassuring, but what could he say that didn’t sound hollow? Before he could stumble through a response, Melijuia straightened, pushing her emotions down like she was closing a lid on a boiling pot.

“Enough of that,” she said. “Dwelling on it won’t help anyone. Let’s focus on something productive. If you don’t mind, we can start your knight training today.”

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“Today?” Zach raised an eyebrow but shrugged. “Sure, why not?”

“Good.” Her tone brightened slightly, though her intensity remained. “Now, you’ve got options. I’ve got six knights available for mentoring, each with a different style. You can choose whichever suits you best.” She held up a hand, counting off on her fingers. “Light Killers—fast, agile fighters who specialize in quick kills. Heavy Walkers—your classic brutes and tanks. Distance Knockers—long-range specialists. Then there’s... Coward Players.”

“Hold up,” Zach said, raising a hand. “Coward Players? What kind of name is that?”

Melijuia let out a long-suffering sigh, as though she’d been dreading this moment. “It’s exactly what it sounds like. They’re knights who avoid direct combat. Instead, they rely on traps, deceit, poison—basically anything that lets them win without getting their hands dirty. They’re... unconventional, to put it kindly.”

Zach rubbed his chin, intrigued. “Unconventional, huh? What about the other two?”

“Zombie Runners,” she said, her tone warming slightly. “They’re relentless. They fight like they’re undead—take a hit, get back up, keep fighting no matter what. Then there are the Wall Makers. Defensive specialists. They excel at holding ground and protecting their allies.”

Zach tilted his head, thinking. “I’ll go with Coward Players.”

The air between them froze for a beat. Melijuia blinked at him, her mouth slightly open. “What?”

“What?” Zach echoed, genuinely confused. “Why not?”

“Why not?” Her voice rose in disbelief. “Why would you want to become that? Of all the options, you picked the one group that’s... well, infamous!”

Zach shrugged. “I don’t see the problem. They sound effective. Besides, you offered it.”

“Just because I list dirt among delicacies doesn't mean I expect you to choose the dirt. Zach, you scored first in the military enlistment test. First! You’ve got insane potential, and you’re telling me you want to waste it on a group that’s... that’s practically a punchline around here?”

He folded his arms. “Dishonorable, huh? That’s what you’re getting at, right?”

“Yes!” she snapped, rounding on him. “Knights are supposed to represent strength and bravery. Not skulking around in the shadows, laying traps like—like rats.”

Zach raised an eyebrow, amused. “I didn’t realize there was a rulebook. You said they’re unconventional. I like unconventional.”

Melijuia groaned, rubbing her temples. “This isn’t a joke, Zach. I’ll be representing you here. If you train as a Coward Player, people will laugh. And when they laugh at you, they laugh at me, too.”

“You’re worried about what people think?”

She glared at him, her tone sharp. “Of course, I’m worried! This is my family’s estate. My reputation. You don’t understand how things work here.”

Zach leaned casually against the weapons rack, unfazed by her frustration. “Maybe I don’t. But I do know this: thinking ahead beats charging in blindly every time. I’d rather be underestimated than overexposed.”

Melijuia opened her mouth to retort, then paused, her expression shifting from anger to exasperation. “Let's take things slower,” she said after a moment, her tone clipped. “If you don’t care about heroics, let’s talk practicality. Zombie Runners. They’re among the best. They can endure anything.”

Zach grimaced. “Sounds like their deal is just to suffer endlessly. Hard pass.”

“Then Wall Makers. They’re defensive, sure, but they’re indispensable on the battlefield.”“Yeah, but they sound like a support unit,” Zach replied. “I’m not looking to play defense all day.”

She stared at him, clearly at her wit’s end. “Do you have any idea how bad Coward Players look? The only knight here who fits that description worked-- works for my father, and he’s... exactly what the name suggests. Lazy, manipulative, and only interested in the perks of being a knight... Of course that doesn't turn you away”

“Damn straight,” Zach asked, his lips twitching in amusement.

Melijuia stared at him, her jaw tightening. For a moment, she looked like she wanted to argue further, but then she let out a long breath and shook her head.

“You’re impossible,” she muttered under her breath.

The Coward Players might not have the best reputation, but they seemed like the kind of knights who knew how to play the game—and that was a skill he could respect.