Shock widened their eyes as the three froze. Lady Sariel's expression turned cold and hard as she stepped forward.

"What do you mean by that?" she demanded, her voice low and dangerous. Light sparkled around her like dust as microscopic diamonds, no doubt, sprang into existence. They increased in size with jerky cracks and pops, hundreds of times each second until they became visible and under her complete control.

A sickening wave of dread washed over Evan. He had just let slip something that he shouldn't have and couldn't possibly have known.

Before he had a chance to react, the bodyguard, Kael, grabbed him by the collar and slammed him against the wall. He hadn’t even seen him move.

Evan teleported away, relieved that he hadn't taken the guard with him.

Evan stood at the far end of the room. He was back to square one. Escape now came with even worse odds. Everyone knew the bodyguard's skills; his [Time Dilation] ability allowed him to slow down or speed up his own personal time in a localized area immediately around his skin, giving the guard an advantage in combat. But what the guard Kael was most famous for was his ability to control probability. He could vastly increase his own personal luck, he would get juiced up on luck during battle. As luck coursed through his veins, he’d feel a rush of euphoria. He’d feel as if he was invincible, like he could conquer anything. The more he increased his luck, the worse his high would get, impairing his decision-making. But as the luck faded, a deep sense of emptiness would settle in, leaving him exhausted, paranoid, and desperate for more. His skill, [Probability Manipulation], required a high level of self mastery. The healer clearly had a healing skill and some form of blood manipulation, if the weird blood ruby spike earlier was anything to go by.

He had never faced opponents like these before. Somehow, he would have to make do. If he were to use all of his skills, no one could leave the room alive. He would die in the attempt to keep his secret. Or it would die with him.

"I...It’s just an expression," he stammered, desperately trying to come up with a convincing lie. “I… I was simply referencing your wealth and station, as well as the opulence and bounty of a-artifacts around us.” He gestured with his head towards the diamonds and treasures, internally hoping one of them would take to his words.

But it was already too late. The healer and the guard were advancing on him, their weapons raised. Blood pooling around her robe and tight muscles to form a strange, almost artificed form fitting shell, that moved like a second ruby armoured skin, a deep shade of red. Evan knew that he had to act fast. He focused all of his energy on his skill, willing it to work.

"I wouldn't try that if I were you," the guard snarled, his hand tightening around the hilt of his sword.

"Step aside," the healer growled, her hands crackling with power. "I will take care of this."

So much for that, Evan thought.

Evan's eyes darted to Lady Sariel, who stood silently, sternly watching the unfolding scene. This was the first time since he arrived here that she seemed attentive, completely here. He knew that she was the most dangerous of them all, with her dominion over the minerals in the room. Her diamond constructs floated menacingly around her, waiting for her command.

Lady Sariel's personal healer and guard stepped forward, their eyes fixed on Evan. The healer, dressed in flowing robes stained with blood, flexed her muscles underneath the strange, artificed shell that glimmered like ruby armour. The guard, his eyes wild from what must have been a state of heightened luck, began to move. His movements grew sharper and faster with each passing moment

With a burst of motion, Evan disappeared.

A knot formed in Evan's stomach as the three advanced upon him, their skills combining into a deadly dance of blood and steel. Lady Sariel summoned forth diamond swords and constructs, controlling them with a flick of her wrist, while the healer wielded blood like a weapon, forming ruby-like spikes and projectiles that glistened in the dim light. The guard darted back and forth, time dilated, movements blurred as he darted in to strike and then retreated, giggling madly with each successful blow.

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“Come on. Come on! Fight me!"

His eyes blazed beneath the blood covering his face, Evans' blood, as his voice boomed across the room, filling every corner in a crescendo.

"You're outmatched, kid. Just give up."

The healer called after him. The expression on her face didn't match her words at all.

Evan tried to focus, tried to control his teleportation, but the attacks were too fast, too hard. He hurtled through the air, dodging and weaving, desperately trying to avoid the onslaught. Lady Sariel's diamond constructs slammed into him, sending him reeling, while the healer's blood blades sliced through the air like razors, leaving trails of crimson in their wake.

“You think you understand strength!" the guard said, his voice a boom of madness. "You really think you can beat me!? I am a god! I am theSWORD OF THE CITY! THE-"

"Enough, Kael," Lady Sariel said, cutting him off. "Let us finish this."

The guard continued to manipulate probability, his movements becoming more and more erratic as he grew increasingly high on luck. Evan saw an opening, a momentary gap in the trio's defences, and he teleported away, only to find himself hurtling through the air, uncontrolled, the guard having reacted instantly. Hurling his sword towards Evans' new destination, shattering his own hand in the process, he grinned madly in triumph as Evan careened in a direction he hadn't intended.

Panic set in as he realised his skill was useless in this fight. He tried to keep moving, to keep teleporting, but the attacks came too fast, too hard. Blood flowed freely, coating the room in a slick, crimson sheen. Diamond constructs shattered and reformed, their edges sharp as knives.

Evan's strength was waning, his energy draining away as the trio continued their relentless assault. The guard continued to manipulate probability, his movements almost too fast to see, while the healer stood back, watching with a cold detachment as she formed a new set of ruby-like blades.

Evan tried to hold on, tried to keep fighting, but it proved futile. He felt his body giving out, felt himself slipping away.

He would have to use his third skill, he had no choice.

He felt the same familiar feeling of power he’d known his whole life, coursing through his veins like an electric current. Spreading throughout his body, stemming from the dark scar on his chest, above his heart. The dark, almost metallic sheen of the scar spread across his chest as he connected with his skill. Evans' body twisted and contorted, his muscles shifting and bulging as they grew in size, now taught and bulging, stretched like steel. He launched forwards in an instant, the ground cracking beneath his enhanced feet, and planted his fist through Kael's armoured chest, blood covering his arm.

Kael stared down at the arm in his chest and cackled. Grabbing on to Evan. Slowing them both down.

Lady Sariel's diamond greatsword finished materialising in her hands, and she advanced upon him, eyes cold and calculating. She moved with a fluid grace, her eyes locked on Evan's.

Evan's arms became slick with blood and locked in place as he attempted to extricate them from the laughing dead man.

And then, suddenly, it was over. The three of them stood over his broken, lifeless body, a greatsword where his head should be. Triumphant and unyielding.

In the end, Evan's secret skill remained hidden, forever lost in the chaos of battle. Lady Sariel and her companions stood victorious, their skills combining into a deadly, unrelenting force. And as the echoes of battle died away, the only sound left was the soft drip of blood, staining the floor like a twisted, macabre canvas.

“A shame. Send his corpse for study.”

The room was silent, save for the sound of Lady Sariel's heels clicking against the stone floor as she turned to leave. Evan's body lay motionless on the ground.

***

Evan woke up on the training hall floor in a cold sweat, gasping for air as phantom pains throbbed, and the image of his violent death lingered in his mind. He wretched his stomach's contents on the floor. His hands trembling as he recounted what had just happened. Stumbling forwards and retching again, unable to hold back the nausea. His whole body shook with adrenaline. It took him a few moments to realize that he was safe, that it was over.

The feeling of his own violent death was still fresh in his mind. His hands were clammy. He couldn't shake the feeling that it had all been real, and the thought made him feel sick to his stomach. Looking around, he saw that he was still in the same spot in the training hall, the ceiling still intact, nothing had changed.

"What happened... Bad skill?" Lucia asked, with Marcus and Maximus walking towards him.