Leon had to grab Octavia as she fell, the princess’ legs giving out as she comprehended exactly what the swordsman had told her, preventing her from falling to the ground completely.
Shaking him off, her blush returning in full force, Octavia fixed the swordsman with a withering glare.
“That explains much- to think Sha even bore relation to you, what a joke. Sit, my story is a fair bit harder to comprehend.”
Taking a seat on the sandy floor, Leon prepared himself for a revelation.
“This is my second time living through the Tutorial. Memories, a lifetime’s worth, poured into my head once I accepted the invite to the Tutorial. The first timeline’s Octavia sacrificed her life to send a packet of memories to me. She was a master chronomancer, the ritual used one that consumed her life alongside every other life in our universe.
She spent centuries shaping entire planets into nodes in her spell. For all her work, the spell failed. Everything after she left Earth is gone, everything past a certain date on Earth hazy. The reason she worked for so long to achieve a goal she’d never benefit from forgotten, yet I remember the name of the multiverse’s premier smith.
I freaked out, relied on her knowledge to survive and thrive, just moving on autopilot, adopting all her mannerisms. I thought maybe someone else would have their memories. You’re the only one I recognise from her memories- the Swordfiend.”
Leon held a hand to stop her explanation. A bombshell like that demanded an explanation.
“I used Swordfiend as my name? Why the hell would I advertise my bloodline like that?”
She shook her head, red hair swaying, strands falling across her forehead. Her imperious attitude diminished further as she spoke.
The recounting of this exacted a toll, despite the reassurance that neither side could harm the other anymore.
“I don’t know- she only met the man once. The first Octavia encountered you at a site of magical power. She’d dug in, fighting off all comers- then the Swordfiend showed up, killed everyone but her and offered a choice.
Stay and die, or leave and live. She left with him and they travelled together for a month. He spoke only once of his bloodline, during a drunken tirade, about how if any exposed his fiendish blood, it would doom him. The next morning, she awoke to find him gone. You and he have the same aura.”
He’d been slightly off with his guess. A regressor, not a time looper- and one who had mostly preserved her original personality, with no way to repeat the magic that had left her with fractured recollections.
She’d only known of a bloodline- it really had been a poor choice of words, the woman not the mastermind manipulator he’d assumed her to be, just another survivor, one with a greater advantage than most, but still mostly normal.
They weren’t so different, two people who had lived boring lives, thrust into a world of do-or-die. She’d given in to old memories, as he’d given in to his fresh instincts.
Now wasn’t the time to push for more answers, as much as he wanted them.
Their alliance was still fragile. Leon needed to firm it up.
“What did you do? Before all this, what was your job?”
She paused before answering.
“Telesales. I was a replaceable cog in a big machine, never even made team leader. You?”
“Tech support, big company- most days I was updating people’s browsers or turning on their monitors. I hated my job.”
“Me too.”
Swordsman and mage vanished, two people taking their place, a pair who connected over a shared hatred of their jobs.
The rapport they built was fragile, their prior conflict too fresh.
But it was something.
A start.
Running his fingers across his hand, Leon felt the difference.
Even after healing the wound he’d made, a small scar crossed through his palm.
A reminder of this commitment he’d made to change himself.
A binding that connected him to the first person he’d extended trust to since this whole shit show started.
Such a fragile trust they shared forged under the threat of mutually assured destruction.
One question- just one, and he’d move on. While Leon wished they could go over every detail, they were on a time limit until the next round of the selection began.
“I know why knowledge of my bloodline leaking would be awful- every faction out there would want me, either to extract my bloodline or use me as breeding stock for their members. What’s so dangerous about memories?”
Octavia swept an errant hair from her face, brow furrowing as she explained.
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“Chronomancy- it’s taboo. Second only to soul magic. The spells take more mana than any one mage can supply, chronomancy and ritual sacrifice are irrevocably tied together in people’s heads and the most famous chronomancers are the kinds of people who wipe out planets to add a few years to their lifespan. So, people knowing even the most basic of chronomantic principles are hunted and killed. There would be no trial for me, only an execution.
I refuse to die for such a pointless reason- I swore to myself, in both this timeline and the last. I, Octavia Caesar, will become the greatest mage to ever grace the Myriad Worlds.”
Heavy stuff. Leon knew a world of might like the Myriad Worlds would be rough- but killing people just for knowing a spell was next level.
It was her last statement that stuck with him.
Her dream was one he could empathise with, to become the strongest.
Rising to his feet, he offered her his hand.
“Y’know, logically, I should hate you. I mean, we only got to this point by threatening to expose each other’s secrets. I don’t though- we just got off on the wrong foot. In for a penny, in for a pound. What do you say, princess? Once we’re back on Earth, team up with me. The strongest swordsman, working with the strongest mage- no one could take us down if we worked together.”
Taking his hand, Octavia rose to her feet, old attitude returning, her smile softer, less condescending.
“You speak sense at last, swordsman. The trials of the Myriad World are rarely surmountable by oneself, the greatest of prizes claimed through the work of many hands. I, Octavia Caesar, see merit in a partnership with a warrior of your calibre! On one condition.”
“Name it.”
“Please cease referring to me as princess- it is both untrue and most embarrassing!”
Their privacy bubble collapsed, Leon’s laughter once more audible, echoing across the pit and the desert behind it, the final two honoured returning to their seats before Leon answered.
“Deal.”
Turning to face the Cromidian, Leon prepared to begin the next round. His enthusiasm for the selection waned in the wake of today’s events, bone-deep exhaustion sapping his will.
The sooner he was done, the sooner he could sleep.
“Whose turn is it, anyway?”
His obsequious tone back in full force, the alien answered.
“Yours honoured one- this one will hear your selection now if it pleases.”
“Battle royale then- we haven’t seen that one before, have we?”
“By your will, honoured one.”
Octavia had drawn her fan again, lazily swiping back and forth as the round began, posing a question to Leon as they waited.
“You accept everything as a matter of course, not even doubting my tale?”
An insecurity drove that question, a fear of betrayal.
One easily addressed.
“I decided I’d trust you once we made the Oath. We’ll get nowhere if I start doubting you already. Plus, after all the crazy shit I’ve been through? It’s easier to just roll with the punches.”
She offered no reply, silence descending between them as the roars of battle signifying the round’s start rang out.
“Take the next nine winners.”
She paused for only a moment before replying.
“Are you certain that is wise? I thought you would relish the chance to exchange information. Do you not wish to plan for the rest of the Tutorial or plot a way to reunite on Earth?”
“First lesson about me partner- I don’t really plan. I do all my best work with very basic instruction- go there, kill that, practice your circuits, Leon, go level up Leon. You’re probably smarter than me anyways. Give me a plan and I’ll follow it- to the letter. Only got a few things left to cross off my list in this Tutorial, then I’m done.”
He felt a sense of loss, seeing his new nickname for the mage failing to produce a blush. Maybe if he delivered it with a cowboy’s twang, more like pardner, than partner?
They lapsed back into silence, one considering how best to chart a course through the Tutorial, the other pondering which name would fluster Octavia most.
The silence held for a few minutes, broken by a whisper from Octavia near the end of the round.
“Keep those you claim alive swordsman- they will not allow you to return to the selection again. The rewards for a full contingent of survivors were reputed to be grand. Stay near wherever you arrive on earth- by then my mana pool will be sufficient to divine your location, the Oath we share allowing me to locate you.”
“Keep the weaklings alive, stay put on Earth- got it.”
The rounds passed in a blur, Leon and Octavia maintaining a somewhat awkward silence after their affairs were decided. She did not even ask Leon to identify any of the winner’s Classes or levels, the mage turning taciturn.
An understandable reaction- their prior interactions had been emotionally charged, now on new footing both had yet to figure out what sort of relationship they shared.
No longer mere acquaintances, more than friends, yet paradoxically less- bound together by a sense of self-preservation, yet both recognising an opportunity for shared greatness.
Leon liked partner- he felt that described them best, though he had already come up with the next name he’d be trying out.
If it didn’t work, nothing would.
He cast his eyes down, observing as the winner of the latest bloodbath stood tall, his bearded axe chipped, his armour broken and his spirit soaring.
Victory, life and freedom clawed back one enemy at a time.
As the bubble collapsed, the voices of the honoured came, a bored woman’s voice deciding his fate.
“You, with me. Octavia Caesar claims you.”
Placed in a seat behind Octavia, Leon noted a single round remained before the mage would leave, back to her own instance.
The last shared battle royale passed in similar silence, broken by Leon as the end approached.
“Hey, Octavia.”
She discarded her fan, storing it for good this time, having noticed the serious edge to his tone.
“What?”
“Don’t die on me.”
Soft laughter followed, as though she found the notion absurd.
“Don’t you die either Leon- you would be hard to replace. Warriors of your calibre don’t grow on trees.”
“Neither do mages like you.”
“Oh please, like you would know what constitutes a good mage.”
The barrier fell, a lone robed figure left standing amid the gore. She hesitated to claim the mage, eyes watching the man who would either be her greatest ally or worst nightmare, allowing Leon to reply.
“I know a good thing when I see it, darling.”
She spun around in her seat almost as soon as the words came out of his mouth, making her last claim.
“Claim, now!”
Apparently, that was enough, the crimson pyromancer vanishing alongside her entourage.
Leon didn’t need to see her face- he knew he’d won.
Cackling to himself, the victorious swordsman produced a pair of chicken skewers from his storage ring, posing a question between bites to the Cromidian.
“Can we drop that sound barrier muting my voice now? I’d rather talk to the guys I’m taking back with me than sit here in silence.”
The alien rose from his meditation to answer.
“This is acceptable honoured one- this lowly one assumes we will be using the battle royale again?”
“Nah, give me naval warfare this time. Let’s shake it up a little for these last few rounds!”
The sound-isolating barrier collapsed, Leon entering a conversation of raised tones, William refuting a point someone had raised.
“Bullshit- you never saw him fight. You don't get that strong while doing things like that.”
A woman’s voice, Bethany.
“Mikael makes a good point. We both saw her face, like a cherry tomato- if he wasn’t flirting with her, then what was he doing?”
Cutting across the rebuttal, Leon interjected himself.
“She embarrasses easily and I find it very, very funny- she’s way out of my league. Any other speculations about my character you guys wanna share?”