Sorin’s gaze lingered on the seal. He knew immediately it was Carcose’s work. Only the Rat King would choose such an emblem, and there was no mistaking the calculated decision to send Sorin this message here. Sorin reached forward, breaking the seal and unfolding the letter with a sense of anticipation.
The letter was written in a neat, slanted script, almost clinical in its precision.
---
Sorin,
I’ve observed your dedication to preparing for the Ranking Tournament and am pleased. Your focus has not gone unnoticed. You are showing the commitment required to leave a mark, and it’s precisely this kind of drive that will set you apart—if you use it well.
Enclosed within the desk, you will find a book. This is no ordinary collection of notes; it is a complete dossier of all the competing teams I could gather information on from the other academies. Inside, you’ll find details on their likenesses, weapons, their known powers, fighting styles, and even the roles they tend to play within their team compositions. I advise you to study it carefully and commit it to memory, as every edge you can take into the arena will serve you. It’s possible some of these students are hiding additional powers or concealed strategies that my rats haven’t uncovered, so stay vigilant.
And a word of caution.
I’ve noticed Celeste taking a particular interest in you. While I am certain you are aware of her nature, I feel I must emphasize that her motives are rarely what they seem. She is clever and shares her plans with no one, making it challenging to observe her true intentions. But I can tell you this: she and Aric were once lovers until the rumors of your skill over him began circulating. Shortly after, she severed their relationship.
Celeste may hold more than just a casual interest in you. If she approaches you with romantic intentions, I suggest you turn her down. She plays a long game, and her interests have been known to lead others to ruin.
May these words and resources be of service to you. Should you require more information, you will know where to find me.
— Carcose, The Great Rat King
---
Sorin folded the letter back carefully and tucked it within his uniform, taking in each of Carcose’s warnings. His eyes shifted to the desk’s single drawer, curiosity pushing him forward. He pulled it open to reveal a thick, leather-bound book—the dossier Carcose mentioned. He flipped through its pages, each one meticulously filled with Carcose’s observations: weapons, fighting styles, powers, and even detailed notes on each team’s probable tactics.
Sorin ran his fingers over the pages, a sense of resolve building within him. He would use every detail Carcose had given him, and when the time came, he would ensure Warbringer Academy left an impression that wouldn’t be forgotten.
Sorin glanced at the rat, who still lingered near the doorway. "Thank Carcose for me," he said, giving the creature a slight nod. The rat twitched its whiskers, then scurried off, vanishing into the shadows as silently as it had arrived.
With the dossier tucked securely under his arm, Sorin returned to his room. There, he wasted no time diving into its pages, absorbing each detail late into the night. Over the next few days, he and his team pored over the information, analyzing it meticulously.
When Sorin first presented the book to his friends, their jaws collectively dropped. Jackson, in particular, eyed the book with a mix of awe and disbelief. "You mean to say... someone out there has been spying on every team, gathering all this information for you? And we get this for free?" he stammered.
Tytus let out a low whistle. "Whoever your contact is, Sorin, they must be loaded with resources or have some serious connections," he said, flipping through a section detailing the known tactics of one of the Silverblade Masters’ elite teams.
Sorin only gave a reserved nod. "They're an alum from Warbringer Academy. They believe in what we're doing and want to help us succeed."
Torrid stared at the dossier with a confused frown. "Big book," he muttered, tapping it with his finger. "Lots of words. Hard to remember it all."
Sorin clapped a hand on Torrid’s shoulder. “We’ll take it one page at a time. You stick to the usual role, Torrid—take all the fire at the front while we execute the plan behind you.”
Torrid nodded, satisfied with the clarity. “Good plan. Torrid can do that.”
As the days passed, they each absorbed the critical pieces of information, except for Torrid; he was a lost cause in that case. They turned their practice sessions into tactical drills based on the dossier’s notes. They devised counters for each team’s potential strategies, used role-play to simulate different opponents’ moves, and refined their own strengths, feeling the impact of the information they’d been gifted with.
By the end of the week, they moved like a single, well-coordinated unit. The once disparate talents of Sorin, Tytus, Diego, Jackson, and Torrid now blended seamlessly into a force prepared for anything the tournament might throw their way. The knowledge from the book had become as much a part of their preparations as any training or battle strategy, and they knew Carcose had given them a serious edge.
As the tournament neared, Sorin knew he was being watched and not just by Carcose. Beyond Carcose’s network, there were the Enforcers—armored and vigilant—making rounds inside the academy groups, occasionally lingering a little longer when his team trained. Sometimes, Celeste herself accompanied them, a silent spectator with those sharp, calculating eyes. She had yet to interrupt, but today was different.
Celeste broke away from the enforcers and approached Sorin with her signature self-assured stride. She looked stunning, dressed in a sleek, dark velvet cloak that clung to her frame with understated elegance. Beneath the cloak, she wore a fitted gown in deep obsidian black that shimmered faintly with silver threads under the light, like stars scattered across a midnight sky. Her sleeves flowed long and tapered, cuffed with silver cuffs engraved with intricate patterns. Around her neck, a choker of jet-black gemstones gleamed, accentuating her flawless, pale skin. Her raven hair was loosely tied back, soft waves cascading over one shoulder, framing her face and giving her an air of allure and command.
Sorin’s gaze swept briefly over his own worn attire, feeling the grit of dirt on his skin and the faint sting from a cut he’d earned in sparring. He felt completely out of place, standing before her in his training clothes, streaked with sweat and blood.
Celeste’s gaze lingered on Sorin for a moment before her lips curved into a smile. “I’m pleased to see you’re taking the Ranking Tournament seriously, Sorin,” she remarked, her voice carrying a hint of approval.
“You inspired me,” Sorin replied with a half-smile. “It’s hard not to take it seriously after something like that.”
At his words, her smile deepened, triumphant. “Good. Then, why don’t you accompany me for a bit?” She looked him over with a raised eyebrow as if just now noticing the streaks of dirt and the small cut on his arm.
Sorin glanced down at himself, grinning slightly despite the tinge of embarrassment. “Would you mind if I made myself a bit more…presentable first?”
Celeste tilted her head, considering for a moment. “Very well,” she replied, her tone indulgent. “I’ll wait for you at the entrance to the academy. But don’t keep me waiting long.”
With that, she turned and strode away, leaving Sorin to rush toward the academy bathhouse. As he left the training ground, his friends spotted him, their whistles and grins making it abundantly clear they’d overheard.
“Go get her, Sorin!” Tytus called with a laugh.
“Don’t get lost in those fancy clothes of hers,” Jackson added, smirking.
Ignoring their jeers, Sorin quickly washed away the dirt and blood before changing into something less worn—a dark tunic and trousers, simple but clean. He ran his fingers through his hair, giving himself one last glance before heading to meet her at the entrance, feeling both more prepared and strangely nervous.
Celeste nodded in approval upon seeing Sorin and gestured for him to get into the carriage. She climbed in first, and he followed her. As they settled into the carriage, Sorin watched the Enforcers gather around them, forming a protective line as they started to move. He shot a sideways glance at Celeste, letting a grin play on his lips. “So...I’m not about to be dropped in the middle of another rival academy, am I? Last time was a thrill, but I’d rather not make it a tradition.”
Celeste laughed, the sound rich and amused. “Not this time. We’re going to my father’s castle.”
He raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “And why would the Overlord want me there?”
Celeste gave him a mysterious smile. “He doesn’t want you there, I do. You’ll find out soon enough.”
Sorin leaned back as the carriage rolled along, deciding to fill the silence with some light-hearted talk. “I heard you and Aric were...close,” he ventured, keeping his tone casual. She immediately frowned, her lips pressing into a thin line.
He held up his hands, feigning innocence, and then said in a joking tone. “Just thought I’d check. I wouldn’t want him resenting me even more. We were just repairing our relationship.”
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Celeste’s eyes flickered with a trace of irritation. “I do what I want, Sorin,” she said flatly. “I broke it off with Aric because I got bored. He’s all looks and arrogance, and while his power is impressive, his personality leaves much to be desired. The only time he was remotely interesting was when he tried to argue with me.”
Sorin raised an eyebrow. “Argued, did he?”
Celeste smirked, her gaze distant. “We had our...disagreements. He’s not a challenge, really, just a distraction. That’s what makes him so tiresome.”
Sorin took a moment to weigh her words. “Sounds like you’re looking for more than just a pretty face and some muscle.”
“Precisely,” she replied, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studied him as if weighing what she saw. “Someone with ambition and a bit more...depth.” Her smile was sharp as she looked him over, clearly hinting at something.
Sorin leaned back, meeting her gaze with a subtle smile. “So, you’re after someone with ambition and depth? Sounds a bit like you’ve got someone in mind.”
Celeste’s lips curved into a knowing smirk. “Maybe I do.” She leaned just a bit closer, her eyes gleaming. “It’s rare to meet someone who’s not afraid to stand out… or to stand up to me.”
“Can’t say I’m easily intimidated,” he replied, his tone teasing as he leaned in just a bit, matching her energy. “Besides, I’m starting to think you like a challenge.”
Celeste let out a low laugh, her eyes flicking over him with a hint of interest. “You’re not wrong. Aric was far too eager to follow my lead. I want… someone who knows their own mind. Someone with enough fire to keep things interesting.”
Sorin tilted his head, amusement dancing in his gaze. “Someone who’s not afraid to call you out. Keep you on your toes.”
“Oh?” she replied, an eyebrow arched. “Are you volunteering, Sorin?”
He met her challenging gaze. “Could be. Though I’ll have to warn you—I’m not exactly one to back down once I’ve decided on something.”
Sorin realized he was ignoring both Zane and Carcose’s advice not to be romantically involved with Celeste, but there was just something about her that intrigued him and made him excited. She was like a dangerous flower, prickly yet beautiful.
Celeste’s smile deepened, and for a moment, her gaze softened, something almost genuine flickering in her eyes. “Good. I hate things that are easy.” She leaned back, her expression returning to one of composed confidence, though her eyes lingered on him with a new intensity.
“Well, Celeste,” Sorin said, breaking the moment, “sounds like you might have finally found what you’re looking for.”
Celeste let out a quiet, amused hum. “We’ll see, Sorin. The tournament should be… enlightening.” She gave him one last playful look before turning her gaze out the window, leaving him to ponder what exactly he’d gotten himself into.
When they arrived at the City Overlord’s castle, Sorin stepped out of the carriage. He took in the towering stone structure before him, the castle rising with an air of power and authority. Celeste motioned for him to follow, leading him through the front entrance up a grand staircase and the massive double doors into the heart of the City Overlord's domain. Inside, the castle felt even more imposing. The floors gleamed with polished marble, and an intricate mosaic of dark and light stones formed a scene of fierce battles and grand conquests. The towering columns were engraved with ancient symbols, each one telling stories of legendary figures within the Dark Pantheon’s history.
The walls were lined with dark, intricate tapestries, each one depicting scenes of valor and glory, with sweeping landscapes and powerful Gods casting their shadows over armies. The chandeliers above, wrought of dark metal and fitted with dozens of crystals, cast a soft, flickering light, illuminating the space with an eerie elegance.
Sorin couldn’t help but be captivated. "Impressive place your father has here," he murmured, admiring the grandeur of the hall. He noted a massive painting on the wall of the Overlord in his prime, a powerful and commanding figure. Beneath the painting sat a row of suits of armor, each one marked with a crest he didn’t recognize, like statues honoring a long-forgotten legacy.
Celeste gave a dismissive scoff. “You've been here before, Sorin. Why the awe?”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “Last time, I was half-conscious and, admittedly, more focused on not face-planting as I was dragged through the halls.”
Celeste laughed, her voice echoing softly in the vast space. “A fair point.” She continued to lead him through the labyrinthine corridors, each one adorned with more signs of the castle’s long and storied past. Intricate weapons hung from the walls, each one displayed as though it were a relic of war. Ornate sconces cast shadows across stone busts of past overlords, their faces chiseled and stern, watching him with eyes that seemed alive in the dim light.
Sorin took it all in as they walked. Every detail, from the cold strength of the castle’s structure to the artistry that softened its edges, spoke of both power and prestige. There was a timeless quality to it, as though the walls themselves whispered untold stories.
Celeste continued to guide Sorin through the castle until they reached a wing of the castle that Celeste had explained was her domain. There, she dismissed the Enforcers to wait outside that wing of the castle, which they did without comment. Celeste then continued down the halls, Sorin trailing behind. Finally, the duo reached a door.
“This is my personal suite of rooms. Although the entire wing of the castle is my personal playground, there are plenty of staff and occasionally guests of mine that stay here,” Celeste explained as she pushed open the door.
Celeste’s suite was a lavish sanctuary, a place that reflected both her status and personality in equal measure. The main sitting room was dominated by plush, dark purple furniture, with soft, silken cushions that contrasted against the cool, polished stone walls. Heavy curtains of midnight blue were drawn across tall, arched windows, though faint beams of evening light slipped through, casting a warm glow over the room.
Weapons adorned the walls in displays that were equal parts artistic and intimidating—sleek swords, ornate daggers, and even a gleaming silver spear were positioned with care alongside polished armor pieces. Each weapon was meticulously maintained, and their placements made it clear they weren’t just for show.
However, woven among the implements of war were more delicate, feminine touches. Through an open door, Sorin could see a vanity standing against one wall, its surface laden with beautifully crafted perfume bottles, fine brushes, and an array of cosmetics. The mirror’s edges were etched in silver with delicate floral designs. Nearby, an opulent wardrobe held luxurious dresses in deep jewel tones, each one embroidered with fine threads and delicate lace, blending perfectly with the suite’s palette. Velvet cushions lay scattered near the wardrobe, some embroidered with intricate designs, others sewn with images of night-blooming flowers and stars.
Further back, another open doorway led to her sleeping chamber, where a massive four-poster bed draped with dark, sheer fabric stood as the centerpiece. The bedspread was embroidered in silver thread that gleamed like starlight, and pillows piled in abundance promised a level of comfort reserved for someone of noble blood.
As Sorin walked around and took in the ornate details of Celeste’s suite, he couldn’t resist teasing her. “Lavish and lethal. A lot like you,” he remarked, glancing from the display of deadly blades to the elegant dresses lined up in her wardrobe as he made his way into the side room. “You might be the only person I know who can make a sword collection look fashionable.”
Celeste laughed as she followed him, then leaned casually against her vanity. “Well, I have to keep up appearances,” she replied, arching an eyebrow. “Besides, a girl has to have her choices—whether she’s dressing up for court or gearing up for a fight.”
Sorin nodded, feigning a serious expression as he picked up one of the perfume bottles, inspecting it with exaggerated curiosity. “Ah yes, the scent of midnight lilies... perfectly balanced to mask the smell of blood and sweat from a hard day’s work.” He smirked, setting it down.
Celeste moved closer, her eyes glinting with amusement. “You’d be surprised how effective it is,” she whispered, her voice carrying a playful edge. “Perhaps you should try it sometime.”
Sorin chuckled, meeting her gaze. “Maybe I will.” He looked back at the room, then back at her, a sly smile crossing his face. “You know, you’re full of surprises. Courtly lady by day, warrior by night?”
Celeste laughed softly, her expression warming as she looked up at him. “You’re one to talk, Sorin. Mysterious disciple one moment, fierce warrior the next. So many sides to you... it’s hard not to be curious.”
“Curiosity, hmm?” Sorin tilted his head, playing along, his voice low. “Maybe you’ll get my secrets one day if you’re lucky. I tend to hold them close, being a follower of Vesperos.”
Celeste smirked, not backing down from the banter as they walked out of the side room and into the main sitting room by her bedroom. “Oh, I think luck has nothing to do with it. Luck means nothing when you take action.”
Celeste moved quickly, catching Sorin off guard as she pressed him back against the cool stone wall. Her lips met his, a burst of intensity that left him momentarily stunned. Her kiss was demanding, almost claiming, and he found himself drawn into it, his surprise quickly dissolving as he matched her intensity, letting himself sink into the moment.
His hands instinctively roamed, tracing the curve of her waist and then up her back, feeling the warmth radiating from her skin through the fabric. Her hands, just as eager, threaded through his hair, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened.
Suddenly, he pulled back, breathing hard. “This...isn’t a bit sudden?” he asked, forcing himself to refocus. “We barely know each other.”
Celeste’s lips curved in a playful smile, her gaze smoldering. “Who said you need to know someone to have a little fun?”
Sorin looked at her, the intensity of her gaze drawing him back in as he considered her words. Her logic was hard to argue with, and before he could think twice, her lips found his again. This time, he didn’t resist, meeting her eagerness with his own, feeling his pulse quicken as the kiss deepened once more.
Celeste’s lips met his with renewed intensity, her fingers tangling in his hair as she tried to pull him closer, wresting back control. Sorin smirked against her mouth, shifting just enough to resist her tug, keeping his own grip on her waist firm. She broke the kiss for a moment, her eyes narrowing playfully as she pushed back with surprising strength.
“You don’t give in easily, do you?” she taunted, breathless.
“Not a chance,” he replied, leaning in, stealing another kiss before she could pull away. But Celeste was undeterred, slipping from his hold with practiced ease, only to press her advantage, guiding him back a few steps before his own hands caught her wrists, flipping their positions.
She laughed, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth, her eyes flashing with excitement. “I thought the follower of Vesperos would be a bit... darker,” she teased, her voice a breathy challenge.
“Oh, I’ve barely started,” he replied, smirking as he leaned down to capture her lips again, feeling her melt into him for a moment before she resisted, pushing against him, their bodies locked in an almost dance-like rhythm.
They moved around the room, laughter and teasing comments punctuating each kiss, each one more intense than the last. Celeste managed to slip free again, only to find herself against the wall once more, her expression daring him on.
“Enjoying yourself?” he asked, his tone half-teasing, half-genuine.
“Not bad,” she replied with a grin, eyes glinting with challenge. “But don’t get too comfortable.”
Just as she tried to flip their positions again, he caught her waist and, in one smooth motion, guided her back towards the bed. She gave a half-hearted push, but this time, Sorin held firm, pressing her down as he settled on top, pinning her arms gently but securely against the mattress.
Celeste looked up at him, breathless and flushed, her smile one of satisfaction mixed with intrigue. “Fine,” she murmured, her voice low and playful, “you’ve won... this round. But can you win the next round, perhaps something more intimate?”
A smile split Sorin’s lips as he understood her meaning.
“I am certainly up to the challenge,” Sorin said with a quickly deepening voice filled with arousal and moving in for another kiss.