The door to the spectator box at the grand coliseum was opened by Isendia guards as a maid pushed Lilah’s wheeled chair inside.

The room was a grand thing, three rows of chairs at the front of the box for the younger generations of the Isendia family.

The space had been expanded with maids and butlers serving food and drinks.

At their rear was a single chair where Lilah’s son sat in his armor, looking like some grand conquering warlord. He never had the strength and skill even in his later years. His sister had, and his cousins he’d deployed constantly since she died.

He’d always been frustrated with his lack of fighting ability, and turned to ploys. I thought I could raise him in my path of working from the shadows.

Laughter cut through the box, nephew Talbot well into his drinks as he recounted some event to his cousins.

His wife Emilia nodded to the maid. “I’ll look after her,” Emilia said.

“Yes ma’am,” The maid curtseyed releasing Lilah’s wheelchair and moving out of the space. A few of the younger generation leering as she left.

“Semi-finals should be interesting, the whole event makes me nervous, worry for all of the people on the sands,” Emilia confided in Lilah, as she wheeled her off to a quiet side where they might be able to see the fight and be seen if someone was looking for them.

While also being the furthest from Talbot.

“Tea miss Emilia?” A butler said with a kind smile.

“Oh, thank you,” She tilted her head as he set up a small table and laid out the tea on the table, filling the cups. Emilia looked over the arena as the man expertly slipped a powder into Lilah’s tea.

And which creature’s monster are you? Lilah began coughing, using it to move her head around, and spot the others in the room. Most ignored or didn’t care.

Tyrus looked over with an almost frustrated look. The bored cruelty in his eyes, she’d seen it when he had orchestrated a beating against another boy in his class.

That cruelty hidden too deep under his veneers. It was a hot blade through her stomach. She’d thought it would be someone married in, or maybe from another line of the family.

She brought her coughing under control as Tyrus looked away, shaking his head minutely as he drank from his wine.

Andreas her third eldest also watched from the side of the box. His hand tightening on his blade and then relaxing. He looked aged, well beyond his years, older than Tyrus by far.

“Here we go,” Emilia said, offering her the tea, taking her time to give it to her, making sure she didn’t give her too much. And here this girl cares for me greater than my own children, hiding from her husband.

Lilah drank the poison, she could feel it trying to attack her body. She circulated her mana as Rick had taught her and drew it into her body, counteracting the damage.

“For the first match of the day we have Iron Wall Mulligan and the Black Thorn!” An announcer called out to the cheers of the crowd.

Many in the box were betting in the corner amongst one another on the fighting.

Lilah seethed, these people were fighting for the choice to join their ranks, this was something to be venerated. They’d had only little drink and simple food. Their attention given to the fighters not their comforts.

Betting on the fighting. There were bets on the injuries that they would sustain or if they would die. Lilah fought to keep a blank expression Patricia would have torn through this place and set them right. Lydia and Rick’s mother had been a force of nature, hard headed, stubborn but also thoughtful and willing to hear other opinions.

The gates being drawn up pulled her from her swirling thoughts.

“Black Thorn has done really well to get this far, she’s fast, one of the fastest I’ve ever seen. Though she hides her appearance. There’s all kinds of rumors around her. Iron Wall Mulligan is an honorable fighter. I’ve been hearing a great number of stories sung about him too. He apparently had a fight last for nearly forty minutes before a winner was picked.” Emilia dropped her voice. “There’s plenty of lewd songs about his stamina too.” She chuckled to herself.

The two contestants stepped out into the middle of the arena.

Lilah knew that stature and stance anywhere. She glanced over at Tyrus, her son turned his attention to the fight.

Mulligan came from the left as Lydia strode in from the right. There was a new weight to here movements, like a beast ready, tense before the flight. Like a mount before the charge.

Though there was a grace to it, Lilah had seen it before, in her husband, in her daughter, in the fighters of Isendia, usually after having traded something away.

Mulligan drew his sword and set himself as they closed.

Lydia raised her blades and settled into her stance as they prowled around one another, taking the other’s measure.

Mulligan took a step forward, Lydia continued to circle, making him take another step lest she come around his side.

He lashed out with his sword. Lydia deflected the blow, his blow went wide. Lydia didn’t let the opening go unused as she slashed at his side, he brought his shield out to defend, her blade rang his shield like a drum he let out a yell and pushed forward with his feet to meet her second blade swinging at him.

Her blow hit his shield, his arm buckled as the shield hit him in the head, he shook his head and took steps back.

Lydia came for him, her swords rang on his shield, each blow jarring the man’s arm and making his shield sing.

He thrust out with a yell. She danced around him, rushing past him in a flurry of sand, her sword hitting him in the back of the leg, he dropped to his knee. She turned around, her blade sliding around his neck and coming to rest against it like a lover’s kiss.

He stilled and lowered his weapons.

“Black Thorn wins!” The announcer yelled to the crowd’s rising cheers. Lydia drew her weapon away and moved to the side.

Mulligan got up and shook his limbs out, rising gingerly.

“That was exciting and I hope he’s not too badly hurt. His shield was certainly making a lot of noise!” Emilia chortled.

Tyrus was talking to one of his squires, the boy ran off, people making room for him. His squire had a higher position than Rick in the family.

Andreas watched from his position at the wall, an old defeated man, his eyes sad as he followed Lydia out of the arena.

Lilah sat in the spectator box, watching her family, listening to the deals, the rumors and boasts. He mood soured as the minutes passed.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

***

Everett walked into the training yard, dealing with the ‘accountants’ had taken most of the morning.

“Kill me! That is your goal!” Len roared as he seemed to walk through the battlefield of fighters, his blade lashing out as he hit legs, arms, bodies.

“My god, those fucking chickens are rolling in the soups with just how shit you’re using the level you gained from them!”

The veterans continued their attacks., coming in from every angle and coordinating with one another.

“Holy shit you can work together,” Len targeted one fighter, hitting him with a flurry of attacks then pivoting him between him and the others, breaking the encirclement. “You feeling angry, you feeling pissed? Take that shit, grind it down and make it cold. You’re fighters, trained to kill, emotions are the fuel, not the conductor.”

“Gibson switch!” A man fell out to the side, another moving into the melee.

Len advanced on a man, his blade cutting out. “Your stance is much better! Though your shoulders are weak!” Len came around the man as he tried to swing out, his blade coming low. Len hit the man in the trap, then rapped on the other shoulder. “Change!”

The man’s arms dropped as he grabbed his sword, dragging himself out of the space used for sparing and into the center of the training square, dropping onto a recovery pad in the middle of the mana gathering formations.

There were a dozen men eating at the long tables, another two dozen that were in the center of the training area tempering their bodies and cultivating.

Several of the crippled veterans were among those fighting Len or waiting to fight him, the ones with bad breaks or had been ravaged by infections that had left them unable to fight before were now hale and hearty. Those who had lost limbs or had deeper damage were still in the eating and recovery pad group.

Rick walked among those in the center of the training square, ordering people off of the pads and others onto them, he swung his hammer constantly, the men grunting with the strikes.

Everett grimaced at the remembered feeling of his very body vibrating in pain last night. It was brutal though incredibly effective.

“Food!” Rick pointed at a man.

Two standing nearby grabbed the man up and pulled him off of the recovery pad over to the tables, others grabbing food and drink.

The man ate mechanically.

Adrian pushed himself up and hobbled over to the recovery pads.

Everett’s eyes widened. The man’s leg looked a few sizes too small but it was all there.

He laid down on a recovery pad as a man tied an enchanted block to his leg, it began glowing as Adrian’s veins stuck out on his neck, closing his eyes in a grimace.

A new man hurtled up into the air as Len jumped and caught him.

“Well looks like your right and left are still imbalanced, go see Rick and get that tempering leveled out, then we’ll get you into the fights and training properly,” Len patted the man on the shoulder in the direction of the recovery center.

The man hobbled over, careful to not use his healed limb too much now it was so much stronger than the other limb.

“Come to join us Everett?” Rick asked.

“Thought I’d best limber up these old bones,” Everett said.

“Young buck,” Rick shook his head.

Everett unstrapped his blade and picked up a training sword. Len moved through those fighting him. His words were vicious and blunt, though measured. Pushing the men to the edge without going to far, then sowing in compliments on what they were doing well.

He went through the men quickly and Everett took the place of a man after some time.

Everett moved in to attack, aiming to divert Len’s blade as he wielded a single sword himself.

“Okay, too much sparring and etiquette,” Len was on him, his sword darted for Everett’s face. He slashed at the sword, pushing it to the side as he moved to the side to bring a cut over Len’s stomach, hovering over his stomach to not make contact.

“You trained with a sword and shield, balance is all off.” Len punched him in the face. Everett grabbed his jaw as he stumbled backwards. Son of a cur, that’s going to smart for months!

“We’re not here to be honorable Everett, we’re here to survive. That means you use every trick in the book. Shield!”

Everett looked into Len’s eyes, the complaints dying upon his tongue. Len’s displeasure, the flatness. There was a pull a hold in those eyes that demanded more something he hadn’t seen since he was a much younger man.

There was something in Everett that wanted to show him just what he could do, to prove him wrong.

The group of fighters moved away, giving the two of them space.

Someone picked one up and threw it over. Everett grabbed it. His face throbbing as he strapped it to his arm.

“Again,” Len moved in, his blows were a battering ram on Everett’s shield, he used his feet, his elbows, his forehead and nails as weapons.

Everett’s body moved in ways it hadn’t for years. A blow bowled him over and Len was there, grabbing him by the side and picking him up and setting him on the sand.

Everett’s body pulsed with pain where Len had struck, his very bones rattled as Len tempered his body.

“We go again! What you lot think your doing?” Len darted out and started attacking the others that were in on the spar.

Everett grinned as his heart pumped in his chest, the blood coppery on his tongue. It had been a while since he’d been excited for a fight.

***

Lilah circulated the mana through her body, relieving the aches that came from sitting for several hours in nearly the same position.

“Have a good day Lady Lilah,” Cousin Emilia said, she was an older woman. She was kind, too kind for Lilah’s nephew. That nasty man who’d taken out his rages and idiotic losses upon his wife and children till she was able to send them away to schools and academies.

“Thank you for taking care of the Lady,” Everett bowed his head solemnly.

“Just doing what I can,” She smiled and bowed her head back before making her exit.

The door closed behind her and her footsteps carried her away and down the stairs.

Lilah drew in more mana, she’d felt herself at the limit all day, teasingly close, but Rick had warned her to not make any breakthroughs with anyone but allies around for a dozen meters.

She felt her core take the next step, progressing to a white solid core which started to slowly fill as she pushed in all the mana she’d stored in her channels.

Her channels expanded, a new strength rushing through her body as she stood, feeling younger than she had in decades.

Lilah’s eyes were solemn as she looked at the door.

“Something the matter my lady?”

“No, just we will have to recall the rest of the family once the change happens,” Lilah said.

“Yes my lady.”

“Emilia has looked after me all this time, the only one from the main family that does. Her husband gets into his drinks and schemes while she makes sure I move, that I have water and poisoned tea,” Lilah waved off Everett. “She doesn’t know while she makes the food a pulp so I might eat it. Without any compensation. Her care shall not be forgotten.” Lilah gripped her fist, how she wanted to have a sword in it, to cut through the filth her family had become.

She stood up from her chair and stalked over to one of the covered windows, she opened it, looking down upon the training square.

Those that had been crippled were now sparring one another.

“What happened? Who are these men?”

“They’re all the crippled men you sent for last night, as well as some of the leaders that are loyal. I expanded the training.” Everett said.

Lilah turned to him and raised an eyebrow.

“I’m worried Lady Lilah.”

“What of?”

“This new power, these new techniques. They will change everything in the coming days.” There was a strength to his voice, a depth and strength that had been missing these years. He had packed on weight, filling out his armor more, looking like the bear that had stood beside her husband.

“You did it as well.”

“I wished to become stronger to protect my home.”

“Tell me the true extent of your worries?”

“I cannot see the depths of Len. I do not know him but I know that not I, not those men down there would be willing to defeat him. His knowledge is not any I understand. I know that those men will follow him into the depths of hell for what he’s been able to do for them.”

“Would you?” She asked.

Everett paused and raised his eyes, like banked coals a hint of that eagerness, the willingness to step into danger and harm burned. “If I did not have another duty. He has lead troops before. He takes his time to care for everyone and get to know them. He builds people up without being demeaning. He makes you want to challenge yourself.”

Lydia looked back to the training square. Rick was moving through those sparring, he paused a fight, talked to each and worked with them, then set them to fighting once more. Lydia was down among their ranks.

“I have much to learn from him,” Everett said.

“He would never go against Rick. If he was to make this his home then we would tie our fates to theirs.” Lilah closed the curtains and moved back into the room, moving to the replenished drinking cart. “Where is he?”

“Rick returned in the afternoon and asked to see all of the weapons and armor in our armory as well as people that knew how to carve. He helped out Len for a bit and they switched with Len working in the stables with those who are carving.”

“What do you make of Rick?” Lilah asked as she drank, watching Everett.

“There’s a weight and presence to him of someone much older. He uses jokes and laughter to cover up for it and much more. He hasn’t changed in that manner. Though the way he talks of weapons, of these enchantments with Len and his surety in things. He is not the boy that left here for Valoria.”

“Do you think he has the qualities to be a leader?”

“He can be a leader of fighters, like Len. Though for a long time? No he would not be suitable. Interests would carry him away,” Everett said.

“What of the accountants?”

“They have sent over their books and await your orders.”

“The books?” She asked, drinking from her glass.

Everett moved over to a column holding a planter in the corner. He moved it to the side, pulled away a plank and pulled out several books.

He put everything back and walked over with the books.

“Light reading.” She sighed and walked to the desk hiding to the side of the room. “Tell Rick to meet me after dinner. Do you know what Len is doing to the weapons and armor?”

“Said he was enchanting it to make it better in a fight?” Everett said.

“Seems like we’re going to have to learn and quickly.” Lilah sat down at her desk and flipped open the pages of the books.