Rick suppressed the rage threatening to bubble out of his chest as they marched through the city. People moved out of the way of the guards, glancing over with interest. To Rick, it felt more like they were being paraded through the streets like criminals or curiosities. The guards took every large road possible on their way to the main hall.

The hall was a moniker for the original keep the Isendia family had come to own. Stout four-meter walls enclosed the simple flat keep with four raised towers. The building had been modernized in recent years, adding in paintings and decorations where there had been simple hard stone before.

"Lipstick on a pig," Rick muttered under his breath.

"Got something to say there?" His cousin growled, pulling his baton halfway out of his scabbard. He looked at the boy, then turned his gaze away. It wasn't him he was angry with, though he had had to kill people for less in order to retain his reputation. Strength was everything in the apocalypse.

Guards opened the doors into the main hall. Four large pillars held up the roof. The hearth in the back had been cleaned up and painted, a dais placed in front of it. Tyrus sat upon it, his advisors on lower platforms to either side. Grandma was off in the back corner, looking as feeble as ever.

Members of the family were along either side with their hangers-on. Those of the main family wore fine clothes, silks, and jewelry, while those of the other families pandered to them or hid in the shadows as much as possible.

"It is my victory, uncle. I won. Upholding the Isendian name against the Hunter's Bureau and all," Lydia said.

"Silence!" Tyrus bellowed, smashing his fist into the armrest of his chair. "You dared to defy me. You are no fighter. You're no soldier. You're a brat that has no understanding of her position in this family, of loyalty. Your parents would be ashamed."

Lydia threw her head to the side as if she had been slapped. Rick's rage and anger had transformed over the years, going from a murderous, hot, burning desire in his chest to something colder, more refined, as sharp and as honed as the blades he made.

"Ah and you would know that would you? Were you the last to speak to them before they died?" Rick's voice boomed through the hall, all conversations coming to a halt.

"You dare, boy," Tyrus growled, shuddering in his seat. "You have done nothing for this family but take, take, and take. You're an ungrateful cur that couldn't learn the way of the sword, couldn't learn the way of nobility. You are nothing but an eyesore to me. I banish you from these lands."

Rick slipped his hands into his pockets, the anger dissipating from him. This man didn't deserve his anger. He was just a little man with some power in his small little world. How many little men had be met like this? How many had he killed? And they had at least amounted to something, unlike this weak man with his family, eating him up from the inside, oblivious to the poison all around him. A laugh bubbled out of his throat.

"Ah, now it's just official," he said, causing confused frowns to appear on the faces around him. "You abandoned Lydia and me long ago, uncle. Probably killed our parents, poisoned grandma. Trying to make it official now is all. Just can't stand the sight of us, can you? Do we remind you of the sister you murdered too much? Who did you get to kill them? I see no way you could kill them.” Rick gestured at the sad man in front of him.

Rick glanced over to his grandmother, and there was something in her eyes. He shrugged. They'd find another place to build a city, another group that was willing to help. They might get some of the crafters and fighters to go with them. But it wasn't that much of a loss.

"Come on, Lydia," he called out, turning for the door.

"I banish you, Rickholm, Jorvenus, Isendia. I strip you of your name and your titles. I strip you of your blood and your rights," Tyrus said.

"Fitting that someone corrupting Isendia family does it, don't you think?" Rick chuckled as he continued walking. “Come on Lydia. We’ll find another place to start fresh. Some where the blood isn’t tainted.”

"I did not banish you, Lydia. For you, we have a use. After all, the merchant Petrov has agreed to your hand in marriage. At least something useful will come of you," Tyrus said.

Rick paused his steps, raising his head to look at Len. He wasn't cold. He wasn't hot. He was numb.

For he'd played this dance so many times before, the understanding that this wouldn’t end until there was another death added to his tally.

Rick's footsteps scraped to a stop. "What was it that you always said, uncle? If you want to challenge me, scrounge up your honor and duel me? Started saying that when I was ten."

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“I Rick, challenge you Tyrus Isendia to a duel. Will any officiate?” Rick’s eyes scraped through those in the room.

He frowned as his uncle Andreas’s steps rang on the stone. His eyes were hollow as he looked between Tyrus and Rick. His eyes stopped on Rick checking him over.

“Are you sure?”

“What are you doing Andreas?” Tyrus hissed.

Andreas was the strongest blade master other than Rick’s father, he’d been kept next to Tyrus ever since Rick’s parent’s died.

“Yes,” Rick said. He’d cut his way through Andreas if he needed to.

Andreas took off his glove, surprising Rick.

If he is officiating, he can’t participate.

“I Andreas officiate this fight.”

Tyrus grabbed the hilt of his sword. He wore full armor while Rick had a dagger, tunic and pants.

“When my glove hits the ground, you may begin,” There was a tired monotony to Andreas’s voice.

He released it to the ground.

Tyrus started to draw his sword before it touched.

Rick felt the stone shudder, then shatter and break under his foot as the world moved in slow motion.

Two steps. That's how many it took Rick to reach his uncle. He stopped right in front of him, pushing the sword back into its scabbard with his forefinger. Tyrus had only been able to draw it out a few centimeters.

He rested his finger on the base of the sword's hilt. Tyrus tried to pull it out, jerking against Rick's sole finger.

His eyes widened, his face turning into a frown, confused as to what was happening.

"You won't be needing that," Rick said, and pushed. The scabbard and sword ripped off of Tyrus's belt, making him stagger to the side. The scabbard peeled apart as it and the sword were driven halfway into the flagstone covered ground.

"What?" Tyrus said, looking from the sword in the ground to Rick.

"Might makes right, doesn't it, you fucking bastard?" Rick punched Tyrus in his breastplate, shattering his armor and hurtling him through the throne he'd sat on. The impact cracked the wall behind him, driving the breath from his lungs as he dropped to the ground. Silence reigned in the main hall.

Rick's eyes snapped to his grandma, the muscles in his jaw working. This had all been part of her manipulation, he was sure of it. His eyes landed on Andreas, blinking as if he had just woken up.

"Announce it," Rick's voice came out in a growl.

Rick started walking towards Andreas.

Tyrus pushed his way out of the chair remains, scrabbling onto the dias

“Rick is—"

“Guards, he's going to kill me!” Tyrus yelled as he got breath back in his lungs. The guards started moving towards Rick as doors around the main hall opened.

Guards shot out, those that Rick and Len had been training. The guards that had been closing in on Rick were kicked or punched to the side.

"It seems that this family has fallen too far," Grandma's voice rang through the hall, silencing all voices and stopping all movement. "Rick, Rickholm, Jervainus, Isendia, wins. He is no longer banished, he is elevated to the position of Patriarch, to Lord and Knight Isendia."

Knew it was a play.

All eyes were fixed on her as she stalked over to the front dais. Everett moved up behind her.

She looked down at Tyrus, wheezing with his broken ribs and armor. "You are no Isendia."

She tore her gaze away, leveling it around to those around the room. "You have used this family's name for ill gains, to push down others for your personal wealth. There shall be an accounting."

Someone screamed out. Rick looked over as a butler next to a lady stabbed her through the back. Other servants and members around the hall finished off members of the family. Rick glanced over at his grandmother.

Several people dropped to their knees with bloody hands.

"His life is yours," she looked at Rick and gestured at Tyrus.

"Wait, what do you mean, mother, what? I did nothing wrong," Tyrus said.

"This is your problem... I'm not here to clean up anyone else's messes," Rick said.

Lilah extended her hand towards Everett, he passed her his dagger.

"I had hoped for better," she confessed, her voice heavy with disappointment. "I knew you were a cruel man like us, but I had hoped that with time, with seeing how things worked, you'd change. I wasn't there for you when you needed it, but there can't be any mercy for what you've done."

"Mother, I'll be good," Tyrus pleaded. "I'll do whatever you want. I know all of the contacts you need to restart the Iscendia mercenaries. We've made so much gold. All of the noble families know of us. We've risen higher than ever before. Even the king and queen know our names in casual conversation."

His words tumbled out in a desperate rush, like a man on his hands and knees begging his mother.

"Your own greed blinded you to the needs of others," she accused.

Tyrus pulled a dagger from his armor and lunged. "Die, you bitch!”

Lilah smacked his hand away and pulled him in. She looped her hand underneath his shoulders and drove her own blade up through his ribs and into his heart. It was a final, deathly embrace. She held him still by the back of his neck as his dagger clattered on the dias, a wheeze escaping his lips.

"No more Tyrus," she whispered. Her words echoed through the hall as she drew the blade back out. He staggered and then dropped to the ground.

Lilah Isendia's dress was stained with blood as she held her dagger to the side, dripping her son's lifeblood upon the flagstones. Her eyes scanned the family members around her. Half a dozen bodies were already cooling upon the stone.

She stilled.

Must be the first kill she’s had since the system came into effect. It would collate all of the kills she’d done in the past, maybe past experiences with bladed weapons to push up that skill.

Successive waves of power tore through the room as she leveled up repeatedly.

Everett stepped up, unobtrusively holding the back of her dress so she wouldn’t fall.

She raised her head her power condensing and returning to her.

Rick turned and walked towards the doors of the great hall. “Lets get out of here, Lydia, Len?”

He could feel the frustration of his grandma building, he’d heard of her plots and plans before. She was known as a viper to those that were against her.

He would not allow himself to be drawn into these games.

“You can keep the title Lilah, I’m just Rick.” He pushed the doors open at the end of the hall into the day.

“Lets go get a beer, we’ve got your win to celebrate,” Rick grinned at Lydia. She was looking pale from all that happened.

Probably the first time she’s seen death up that close. Len and he were veterans of it now. They’d guide her through it.