Adalio and I ran into each other in the evening as I was leaving the library. I slowed down, and when I realized he wasn’t going to move aside, I stopped.

“You know you’re completely incompetent as a commander, don’t you?” he snorted. “I wouldn’t trust you with a flock of sheep, let alone a squad of men. Our defeat was all your fault.”

I shrugged.

“You’ll have a chance to show me how it should be done.”

“Won’t be that difficult, will it?” Adalio exploded. “We fought like a bunch of peasants! No formation, no discipline, no—” He cut himself off, waving his hand dismissively, then added more quietly: “Nothing to distinguish a House guard from a plowman. You did none of it.”

“What kind of formation did you expect?” I was astonished. “From whom? From strays and vagabonds chased like rats throughout the kingdom?”

“They hired them!”

“Don’t quibble over words, Adalio. You understand me perfectly. You have some of the best soldiers. Even among my men, two slipped the noose to enlist. Not to mention—”

“Don’t complain, Northerner.” Adalio laughed, cutting me off with a wave of his hand. “You’re used to stealing sheep from each other up there.”

I raised an eyebrow and chuckled. Was he trying to insult me? What nonsense. I shrugged.

“Southerner, you should know that a formation requires shields, spears, and training. What did we have? Sticks.”

“You Northerners have really gone soft.” Adalio shook his head. “Maybe it’s time for you to start sharing your lands.”

His words hit a nerve. I was angry.

“You’re not in the position to judge, Adalio.”

“Why not?” He was surprised.

“You’re a Southerner from a Great House. To compete with the North in the Ancestral Games, you’d first have to renounce your name.”

“You—” Adalio’s cheeks flushed with anger.

He reached for his sword and froze when he heard a lazy voice.

“Penalty for unauthorized duels is solitary confinement.”

Adalio turned and saw Glebol leaning against a nearby wall. I haven’t noticed his presence either. How long had he been there? How could we have missed him?

“I wonder if you’ll survive the dungeon in such a cold,” Glebol continued to egg us on. “Well, go on! Pull the sword out of the scabbard!”

Adalio chuckled, turned to me, and said:

“You wanted to insult me? Very well. Let’s see if you can support your words with your sword.”

“And if I refuse?”

“Then the Northerners are as soft as they claim them to be. All bark and no bite.”

His words made me shake my head.

“There’s no need to complicate things. I’m not Biho. If you want to fight, just say so.”

“That simple?” Glebol interjected again.

“Just ask a mentor for permission first,” I added.

This drew a hearty, resonant laugh from Glebol. Quieting down, he straightened up and clapped.

“I see there’s agreement. To the courtyard, fledglings.”

Adalio pierced me with a sharp, blade-like glare and turned around to stomp down the hallway.

The dueling ground was covered with fresh snow, just above the ankles. Amusing to me, but Adalio was annoyed, constantly shifting from toe to heel, trampling the snow. We stood and waited for the lanterns and enchanted swords to be brought.

Gabino, Suav’s brother, unexpectedly slipped out of the darkness. He looked at us both disapprovingly, hissing through his teeth.

“A night duel? Keepers forbid we get some rest. What are you waiting for? Draw your swords!”

Adalio and I exchanged glances and silently drew our blades. Just as we did, a breathless servant arrived and a lantern illuminated the red and black steel.

Gabino slowly raised his hands, his fingers weaving dozens of seals at an almost imperceptible speed. I didn’t know about the others, but I clearly felt something strange, as if a warm breeze was blowing from Gabino in all directions. It touched nothing physically — neither the snow beneath our feet nor our clothing — but it brushed my cheek with a weightless caress, momentarily warding off the chill of the approaching night.

“Reuzkhetaradoshiok...”

The words of the ancestral language turned into a chant, so quickly did Gabino whisper them. But language was superficial, something that could be dispensed of, spoken inwardly. The main thing was the seals, directing the Soul Flame out of the adept’s body.

“Heot!”

Gabino dropped his hands and exhaled sharply through his teeth, as if a bandage was torn from a healed wound. Hearing that hiss, I shivered involuntarily, remembering the agony of my wounds after the skirmish with the oathbreaker.

Stolen novel; please report.

I noticed Gabino’s downcast face before he retreated to the edge of the illuminated dueling circle and disappeared into the darkness.

Glebol clapped his hands to draw attention to himself, a vague shadow untouched by the lantern light.

“It’s another tradition from before the Nameless One betrayed his siblings, when our world knew harmony and unity. You’re both under the effect of External Techniques that’ll protect you from mortal injury. Enjoy the fight. Today, with the ban on mortal combat, few in the kingdom can afford to give it their all in a duel over a simple quarrel. Begin.”

My mind was filled with dozens of questions, from just how many traditions the Forge had to what would happen to our swords we paid a hefty sum for. They wouldn’t just dissolve into nothing like the enchanted ones we trained with, would they?

I looked down at the blade and hilt of my sword. There was no trace of the blue glow of Amania’s Tears.

Moments later, I discarded all extraneous thoughts and nodded, accepting the situation as fact. With two quick steps back, I increased the distance between Adalio and me, brought my sword into position, and focused on my opponent’s face. This wasn’t a spar, but a proper duel.

A chill settled in my stomach.

Adalio hesitated, slashing the air in front of him a few times to warm up his shoulders. Only then did he take his stance, gripping his sword with both hands.

We stared into each other’s eyes for several heartbeats, subtly tensing our legs and shifting our blades, feinting and faking initial moves.

To the left!

I managed to step aside and forward, catching Adalio’s strike on my blade. I pushed up, preventing his sword from reaching my throat. Steel grated against steel. My blade missed its mark as well. Adalio dodged, drawing a wide arc in the air to push me back, then froze in a stance again.

This time, I attacked first. With a thrust. Steel scraped against steel as our swords locked blades. I stepped behind Adalio and managed to slam the hilt of my sword into his cheek, not at all the way an idar should fight. I barely escaped to the side when Adalio swung at me in pursuit.

I turned around and assumed my stance. We stared into each other’s eyes again.

Adalio spat blood, grinned, and shook his head as if to headbutt me. Instead, he lunged at me. Our blades clashed again. I pushed his sword to the left, realizing I was too late when his blade hit my throat. I was thrown backward, feeling as if my head had been severed. I couldn’t even scream. My entire body seemed frozen — unresponsive, immobile, numb.

All I could see was the sky above me — dark, gloomy, starless. I couldn’t even blink or breathe. A fleeting thought crossed my mind, “Did he just decapitate me?” But even that didn’t make my heart race. If such was the will of the Keepers, so be it. The shadows would disappear with my death, and Flime’s fears wouldn’t come true.

But then it hit me. My heart. I could feel it beating. So I was alive. But I still couldn’t breathe. How long could a person live without air?

“The winner is Adalio of the Great House Tenebro. In times past, you would’ve claimed your opponent’s cloak, sword, and graukh and then been challenged by his family to give them back. Ah, the times our ancestors lived in!”

Adalio snorted.

“My grandfather spoke of those times without nostalgia, senior mentor, so you’ll forgive me if I disagree.” He paused. “My blade is clean, no blood. Why isn’t Lial getting up?”

“Lial?”

I couldn’t answer.

“Your Reverence!” the mentor cried out, seeing me immobile.

The dark sky was obscured by Gabino’s face, gray with sunken eyes. He looked at me intensely for a moment, then slapped me hard on the cheek. My head snapped to the side so that I could see Glebol and Adalio. Gabino cursed quietly.

“What’s going on?” Glebol demanded to know.

“I don’t know!” Gabino snapped back. “The technique was supposed to use his Soul Flame to stop the blow.” His scorching hot fingers gripped my neck. “His heart is beating, but I don’t hear him breathing.”

Adalio frowned. Suddenly, I saw one of my shadows move behind the lanterns, and then I managed to draw a breath. I burst into a cough. The ice in my body retreated, leaving pain in its wake. My throat ached where Adalio’s sword had struck, as did my chest. My cheek hurt where Gabino slapped me. At last, he helped me to sit up.

“He’s a firstborn, a rare bird among us,” Glebol said. “Could that be the reason?”

“Why should that matter?” Gabino replied. “On the contrary, he should have enough Soul Flame for two. Or has his House degenerated so much?”

I felt indignant, but I couldn’t utter a word through my cough.

“And what if it did?” Glebol answered for me. “His father is a Great Paladin, perhaps the best fighter in the North, who earned the title of Blade in his youth.”

“They say Lord Numero is his father, but... Well...” Gabino chuckled.

This time, I managed to get myself together.

“How dare you...!”

I even grabbed Gabino’s shoulder and held on as tightly as I could. Unfortunately, I had so little strength in me that when Gabino got up, my hand slipped from the fabric of his cloak.

“He seems fine. Though now I understand why he was sent here,” he said indifferently and looked at me. “With so little Soul Flame, I’d advise you to avoid duels from now on. My technique has completely exhausted you. Glebol, my presence is no longer necessary. I’ll take my leave now.”

All I could do was pant helplessly after him. I couldn’t even challenge him to a duel as fighting between Internal and External adepts was forbidden. All I could do was demand a duel of honor with the head of his House. A duel between Suav and me? A year ago, I couldn’t even win a spar against my father. What had changed since then? The dark sky I had been staring at helplessly, unable to even breathe, clearly answered — nothing. I wasn’t even able to defeat the third son of a Great House, let alone its head.

“Come on.”

Adalio held out his hand to me. After a moment, I accepted it and managed to get back on my shaky legs. He chuckled and patted me on the shoulder, making me sway.

“Don’t take it to heart, Lial. It doesn’t matter how much ichor we have in our blood, what matters is what we make of ourselves.”

“Yeah,” I replied thoughtfully.

A few heartbeats later, I realized what Adalio had just said and what I had agreed with — that my mother was unfaithful to my father! I shrugged off his hand and punched him in the chest, barely managing to push him away without falling.

“What’s wrong?” Adalio’s eyes widened in response.

“I’m a Denudo,” I growled. “There’s no less ichor in my blood than in yours. Maybe even more. We were once a Great House. Our lineage goes back to the first generations after the Descent.”

“I never claimed otherwise.”

Anger momentarily darkened my vision, or perhaps it was the sudden weakness as I tried to pick up my sword. When the fog of dizziness cleared, I didn’t dare risk bending down to reach for it again. Neither the mentors nor the servants were there. They had gone, leaving expensive enchanted lamps in the snow-covered yard.

I grimaced at the swirling shadows behind Adalio. How could he doubt how much ichor there was in my veins? No matter the quantity, it wasn’t just Denudo blood, not just Venoz, once a Great House, either. In me flowed the blood of fallen kingdoms, the blood of Oscurido, the Royal House, and the blood of the Nameless One. Who in the Forge could claim a lineage as ancient as mine?

Clearly misunderstanding my silence, Adalio shrugged.

“Take it as a lesson. You heard what Gabino said. Avoid duels. Rumors will spread anyway—”

“Rumors?” I cut him off. “The gossip you’ll spread, you mean? I’m a Denudo, and we fear nothing, especially slander. I, Lial of Minor House Denudo, challenge you, Adalio of Great House Tenebro, to a duel. Tomorrow.”

“You’re not thinking straight, Lial.”

“If you refuse, I’ll consider you a coward!”

“I really don’t care,” he replied with a shrug.

I clenched my fists in impotent rage.

“Then let it be rumored that all you can do is dream of your father and brothers dying so that you could get your turn as the House head.”

“You really want me to beat the shit out of you, huh?” Adalio’s face hardened, his eyes flashing.

“A duel!” I insisted.

“A duel,” he confirmed. “Every day. Until I beat some sense into you.”

“Or I beat some into you,” I growled.