“You,” Det and the unnamed woman said at the same time, eyes locked in each other.

  “Ah, Det, feeling better?” Sage said, and both sets of eyes moved from each other to the man so sharply, the air almost felt like it was cut.

  “What is he doing here?” she said at the same time Det asked, “What is she doing here?”

  “This is a fun game,” Simmons gleefully whispered.

  “I live here!” both Det and the woman said.

  “How are they doing that?” Calisco said. “Did they plan it?”

  “Pretty sure they didn’t,” Sage said while the two glared at each other. Neither of them was willing to open their mouths again. Seeing that, Sage took the opportunity to play peacekeeper, jumping up from his seat to stand between Det and the woman. “Det, this is Tena. Tena, Det. We’re all roomies. Yay.”

  That last word lacked any enthusiasm, but it pretty much summed up all Det’s feelings.

  Yay, indeed.

  “The coward lives here?” Tena asked Sage, voice calm and practical, like she was reading from a grocery list.

  “Coward?” Det said, a spike of annoyed adrenaline going through him before he pushed it back down. Getting angry immediately had never gotten him anywhere back on Earth, but it was a tough thing at the moment. He was already frustrated with himself for not spotting the test—then failing it—back before the duel. He could’ve, should’ve done more than that, and it irked him.

  Part of him had considered the duel a throwaway waste of time. Something he had to do, but not anything that would help him get back home. Except, here, on Mount Avalon, he couldn’t think like that. He needed to take this place as seriously as he had the Wordless emergence. It may not be trying to eat his face directly, but everything offered by the academy had to have a point.

  His eyes went to Captain Simmons. Most things offered by the academy had to have a point, he amended.

  “Yeah, coward,” Tena continued, drawing his attention back to the present. “You ran away from our fight and stole my chance to prove myself in front of everybody. From the beginning. My debut. I’ll never get that back.”

  Ah, that’s what she’s angry about. It’s not just about me, but about what she feels like she lost by me yielding.

  “Are you saying Eriba, Weiss, and I are cowards too?” Sage said before Det responded. “Because, we yielded before the fights, just like Det did.”

  “You had a reason to,” Tena countered. “You couldn’t use your magic in the arena.”

  “Uh, neither could I,” Det said. “Those were the rules. Didn’t they get explained to you?”

  “Rules didn’t say anything about magic, just equipment,” Tena said. “Even if that was the case, why didn’t you say something before the fight started?”

  “I tried to,” Det said, forcing his voice to stay calm. Tena wasn’t being emotional or anything like that. On the other hand, she clearly felt strongly about this. If they could talk about it, they could work it out. “But I kept getting…”

  “Captain Simmons!” Tena said, seemingly spotting the man for the first time. “Can I request a transfer to a different room?”

  “… cut off,” Det finished his sentence, saying the words loud enough to prevent Captain Simmons or anybody else from talking. He’d made the mistake in the arena of not asserting himself. A bad customer-service habit he’d taught himself owning his own shop. One that wasn’t serving him well in his second life.

  “I need my brushes—and ink—for my magic,” Det said, pulling one out from the holster at his back to show the group. “Since the rule of the duel was no equipment, they didn’t let me bring them in. No brushes meant no magic. No magic for a magic-fight didn’t seem like a good idea. So, I yielded.”

  He didn’t bother getting into the self-recriminating part of how he’d wasted the preparation time. He could beat himself up—and learn from the mistake—on his own time later.

  “Why didn’t you just say that?” Tena asked.

  “When I tried to, I …”

  “Did the headmaster know?” Tena snapped at the Captain Simmons.

  “… got cut off,” Det said loudly, again, and Tena startled at it. It was Captain Simmons who spoke, though.

  “Of course the headmaster knew,” Captain Simmons said while walking over to the kitchen island to pick up what looked like a piece of sliced apple. Popping that in his mouth, he crunched on it loudly while everybody waited for him to elaborate. He didn’t.

  With no answer forthcoming, Tena looked at Det again. “You’re saying you’re not a coward?”

  Det opened his mouth to answer that, but he got beaten to it. Loudly.

  “Hey, that’s enough of that shit,” somebody said. Somebody so surprising to be standing up for Det, he didn’t immediately recognize the voice, even though he’d been listening to it for years.

  Calisco stood up and walked right in front of Tena. Though she was significantly smaller than the other woman, there wasn’t a shred of fear on her face. Just pure annoyance. Was Calisco actually on his side?

  “Det may be a loser,” Calisco said, completely deflating Det’s growing hope. “But he’s a loser from my pillar, and that reflects on me. Also, as much as it irritates me to say it, he’s not a coward. You’re just being dumb.

  “And I’m going to make this clear right now. Nobody but me gets to bully him. Got it?”

  While Det forced himself not to roll his eyes at the “moral” of Calisco’s intervention, he focused his attention on Tena. “Not a coward,” he reinforced the important part of Calisco’s message. “Just… made a mistake before I entered the arena, and didn’t see a point to fighting. That’s why I yielded.”

  “It wasn’t supposed to go like that,” Tena said with a shake of her head, half to the crowd, and half to herself. “It was supposed to be the best opening match possible. Me! In the arena! You would’ve seen how ready I am to be a Mistguard.”

  “Somebody’s got an inflated ego,” Calisco said.

  Look who’s talking…

  “Hey,” Simmons said, popping the chosen piece of apple in his mouth, and chewing away while he continued to speak. “Det here, crunch, was a, crunch, good example of, crunch, why some ReSouled, crunch, need to, crunch, have equipment. He…” Captain Simmons said, reaching out for the plate of apples, only to find it conveniently missing.

  The other person Det hadn’t met—Eriba, was it?—had snagged the fruit to save them all from the captain talking and eating at the same time. Simmons realized the same thing, giving Eriba a pouting look before sighing and getting back to his explanation.

  “As I was saying,” Simmons said. “He needs gear to use his magic. And he’s certainly not the only one. You saw some of the Duelist and Artillery matches for the people who didn’t get to bring their weapons in with them. A lot of them yielded from the get go.

  “Which, I am going to point out, was a perfectly valid response from our standpoint. This opening duel wasn’t just to see who could fight and who couldn’t, but also how you reacted to having your toys taken away from you. There will be times on the battlefield where you’ll lose your advantage, and we want to know what we’re working with.

  “Do we need to train you to know when to run away, or when to fight? Or, do we need to train you when to not throw a spear at somebody who’s already surrendered?”

  Tena looked away from the captain at the comment, wincing a little at the memory of the stern discussion she’d had with the headmaster. When she lifted her head again, some of the previous fire there had dimmed.

  “I should’ve gotten to fight somebody else,” Tena said. “I got cheated.”

  “And I shouldn’t have gotten sucker-speared in the face,” Det countered.

  “You should’ve dodged better,” Tena said. “Or better yet, tried to put up a fight.”

  “I’d already yielded! Because I couldn’t use my magic.”

  “How was I supposed to know that?”

  “I tried to tell everybody, but no, every time I opened my mouth, I…”

  “You need to be more forceful about saying the important stuff!”

  “… got cut off,” Det shouted, then looked over at Simmons. “Is this a running joke now or something? Is there somebody with magic that could make this happen?”

  “No,” Simmons said, practically giggling. “It’s just happening this way, and it is glorious.”

  “Glad to see you’re enjoying it.”

  “Me too.”

  “Sir,” Tena said, more serious again. “Despite what happened in the arena, I’m the most promising cadet of this cycle.”

  “One of them, yes,” Captain Simmons said, a smile still on his face, but the admission an honest one.

  She really does have that much potential?

  “I deserve to be in a top-tier group,” Tena said.

  “This is your group,” Simmons said.

  “If I formally request a transfer to another one?”

  “Nope,” Simmons said.

  “Why not?”

  “Accelerated class,” Simmons said. “You six are the only cadets that know about the Wordless. And, to be clear since you all swore oaths of secrecy, you have permission to talk freely about Wordless within the suite, when it’s just the six of you. This freedom includes the specific situations that introduced you to emergences.

  “With emphasis that any and all information related to Wordless and those situations remains only between you. There are… implications to the information getting out before we’re ready for it.”

  His last words came with the captain looking specifically at Det and Calisco. The tragedy of Ironsalt would get out soon enough, but they didn’t want that to happen before the Mistguard were ready for it.

  “What does that matter?” Tena said. “Knowing about Wordless, I mean. Of course, I won’t talk to anybody else about it in the normal classes we’re allowed to go to. Why am I in this group? What if they can’t keep up with me?”

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  “Who can’t keep up with who now?” Calisco said. “If you’d like to get back in that arena, I’ll blow you up so fast, it’ll make your match with Det look like a marathon.”

  “Just because…” Tena started.

  “Two reasons,” Det interrupted, half-enjoying getting to be the one to do it for once. “First off, the next time I have to step into the arena will be different. I took the rules at face value, instead of considering how I could work around them. That mistake is on me, and one I won’t make again. If you want a rematch, we can do that.

  “I will promise you right now, though, it will not go the same way. Equipment or no equipment, it’ll be a fight. You’re welcome to tell me I can’t keep up after that, if you still think it’s true.

  “And, before you open your mouth to respond, consider you don’t know anything about the other three who yielded, either. I can respect you having confidence in yourself—you can sure throw one hell of a spear—but you shouldn’t discount any of us so readily.”

  Tena crossed her arms, but didn’t answer immediately. “You’re right,” she said, looking at Sage, Weiss, and Eriba. “I wasn’t trying to be insulting. Sorry. I… I just… that fight was supposed to be my chance to prove myself. I get it—now—it’s not your fault you yielded, and I’m not really angry with you. Not when I think about it.”

  “You’re mad you lost your chance,” Sage said.

  “Exactly,” Tena said. “And I’m not exactly good at losing. Anything.”

  “It takes strength to admit that,” Weiss said. “Apology accepted.”

  “Me too,” Eriba whispered in a quiet voice from behind her bangs.

  “We aren’t really the ones you should be apologizing to,” Sage said, looking from Tena to Det. “And I, for one, won’t hold it against you. We have to learn to work together, after all.”

  “You’re right,” Tena said to Sage, then looked at Det. “I’m… sorry about calling you a coward.”

  “How about the spear to the face?” Det said.

  “Meh,” she said. “I still think you should’ve dodged it. But, if it will make you feel better. Sorry about spearing your mouth.”

  Det looked at the woman before he said anything. The words were easy, but…

  She meant it. Even with her arms still crossed, her body language and the eye contact showed she wasn’t running away from her actions.

  “Fine,” Det said. “Apology accepted, though I reserve the right to harass you about it a later date.”

  “And I reserve the right to take you up on that offer of a rematch,” Tena said, then finally uncrossed her arms. “What’s your second reason, anyway?”

  “The biggest reason you don’t want to try to find another group, if you ask me,” Det said. “You won’t be able to run Wordless dungeons with anybody else.”

  Tena blinked at him while everybody else turned and gave him a blank look.

  “You’re telling me you haven’t figured it out yet?” Det said. “Why else would we—six people who know about Wordless—be put in an ‘accelerated’ class together?” He even used air quotes for emphasis. “Like you said,” he pointed at Tena. “It’s not like we’re being isolated from the other cadets. We’re going to be in classes with them, and we’re expected not to discuss the Wordless then. Why couldn’t we do the same thing if we were separated?

  “Then there’s the fact we’ve got three Arsenals in our group,” Det said, pointing first at himself. “Given Sage, Weiss, and Eriba also yielded, and I know what Calisco’s magic is, I’m guessing two of them are the other Arsenals besides myself. I don’t know a lot about party building, but my gut is telling me that’s a bit unusual, so there has to be a reason.

  “And, that reason is because they want us to go into E-Rank emergences and get a head-start on clearing those out. More experience—or whatever it is—and more equipment.” He held up his white, Wordless gauntlet to emphasize the point. “That’s how we’re ‘accelerated’.” More air quotes.

  “Is… is that true, Captain?” Tena said, voice cracking the first time before she got herself under control.

  “It is,” Captain Simmons said. “Though, we weren’t planning on telling you all for a while, after we had some time to see how you functioned as a party.”

  “And if we function poorly, do we get assigned to new groups?” Tena asked, though there wasn’t hope in her voice. At least, not hope at getting reassigned. She saw the potential of working with the other five cadets who knew about Wordless. If she wanted to get ahead, this was the way.

  “If you can’t work as a group,” Simmons said, letting his last syllable drag out as everybody gave him their full attention. Something he ate up just as much as that apple slice earlier. “We’ll just push you harder until you work well.”

  “You won’t need to,” Tena said. “I’ll make sure we succeed, because I am…”

  “Being unreasonably full of yourself again,” Simmons said, the playfulness gone from his voice. “You’ve got a very useful kind of magic, but do you really think it’s better than anybody else’s in this room? Did you ever even stop to consider what the four who yielded can do? You apologized, and like Weiss said, that’s big of you. Now, stop talking and start thinking, like Det did. You asked for a top-tier group, and who’s to say you aren’t already in one?”

  “My magic is the best, by the way,” Calisco said, in case anybody had forgotten her stance on the topic.

  “Your little explosions were impressive,” Tena said, speaking more slowly after the reprimand. “But…”

  “Calisco’s ‘little explosions’ one-shot D-Rank Wordless,” Captain Simmons interrupted. “High-D-Rank Wordless. Tell me, Shardheart,” he said the word like it was a name. Her callsign? “Could your crystal stand up to a ‘little explosion’ that could do that?”

  “High-D-Rank?” Tena—Shardheart—whispered and looked at Calisco.

  For her part, the woman from Radiant crossed her arms and revealed possibly the cockiest expression on her face Det had ever seen. Really, it was impressive.

  “And I was holding back,” Calisco said.

  Disbelief started blossoming on Tena’s face, her mouth opening.

  “Knowing her magic,” Det said flatly, physically hurting at speaking up on Calisco’s behalf. “She’s not exaggerating. She may be a chunibyo through-and-through, but she actually has the boom to back it up.”

  “I am not a chuni,” Calisco said, spinning on Det with her fists clenched at her sides.

  “Do you even remember what you were wearing when we left Radiant?” Det said. “If that wasn’t chuni-garb, I don’t know what is. Or, were you just cosplaying?”

  “I…!” she started.

  “Children,” Simmons said, his lackadaisical visage back on display. “Fashion sense—or lack thereof—aside,” he continued as Calisco’s face turned red enough it looked like her top was going to blow. “This is a good lesson not to judge each other on what you think you know right now.”

  “I have to admit,” Tena said, licking her lips as she imagined D-Rank explosions. “That’s more than I expected from what I saw in the duels. What about the rest of you? What about…?” She looked straight at Det. “What about your magic? Can you kill D-Rank Wordless too?”

  “No, Det wasn’t in the D-Rank dungeon with us,” Captain Simmons said.

  “… with us?” Sage asked.

  “You all have a story as to where and why you’ve met the Wordless,” Simmons said. “A reason why you’re part of this accelerated class, and why—like Det said—you’ll be facing Wordless dungeons at least a year before your fellow classmates. For Calisco, it’s because she faced D and C-Rank dungeons beside General Vans, Jeckles, and me.

  “We won’t talk about her complete lack of any ability to follow orders,” Simmons said, voice sharpening like one of his swords for an instant. Calisco deflated like she’d been stabbed. “We know that won’t happen again, don’t we?”

  “Yes, sir,” Calisco said quietly.

  “Good,” Simmons continued. “And that brings me to my point. You each have a strength, something you can bring to this group. For Calisco, it is firepower.”

  “You really did a C-Rank dungeon too?” Weiss asked, the few dishes in the sink left forgotten. He and Eriba stood side by side on their side of the kitchen island, fully paying attention to the discussion.

  “I did,” Calisco said, a small hint of that pride coming back out until she looked in Simmons’ direction. Apparently, she’d gotten a stern talking to of her own at some point.

  “Did you one-shot those too?” Sage asked, and Calisco’s face screwed up like she’d sucked on a lemon.

  “No,” she grumbled. “They were too fast.”

  “She didn’t kill any of the C-Ranks,” Simmons said. “But she was able to damage them.”

  “And you?” Tena looked at Det, some of her earlier disdain at what he’d cost her—her debut—gone from her face.

  “Cleared an E-Rank dungeon, solo,” Simmons answered for Det. “While the rest of us were in the D and C-Rank dungeons, Det here—crazy guy that is he—went into an infant E-Rank emergence all by himself. Managed to rescue three survivors as well. Killed the Boss and a Rare Spawn at the same time.”

  “Solo?” Sage whispered, looking at Det with a new expression of appraisal.

  “Is that actually impressive?” Calisco said. “E-Rank isn’t as strong as D or C-Rank, so my achievement is definitely better, right?”

  “Bosses of dungeons are strong enough to take on an entire party of their Rank,” Simmons said. “Meaning an E-Rank Boss should be strong enough to take on everybody in this room. The same goes for a Rare Spawn—sometimes people call them Mid-Bosses—and, to have both of them in a single room is often cause for retreat.

  “If they aren’t idiots and get themselves outright killed.”

  “Was that an insult or praise?” Det asked Simmons.

  “Bit of both,” Captain Simmons said. “You didn’t know better, so let’s lean into calling it praise. Hurrah for you. I’ll bring party hats next time.”

  “You really did that?” Tena said.

  “I guess so?” Det said. “I had no idea what I was getting into. I probably got lucky.”

  “You definitely did,” Simmons said. “It will be a swarm-type dungeon after it fully forms, and your flavor of magic proved to be a good counter to it. It will also be the dungeon this party will be spending time in to learn how to work as a group.

  “Having somebody with experience fighting the type of Wordless you’ll face in there is quite an advantage, even if the dungeon itself will be more complicated the next time you’re there.”

  “Why would it be more complicated?” Det said.

  “Infant dungeons haven’t fully formed,” Sage said. “It’s very rare for us to find one, let alone clear an emergence in its infancy, but it’s more like a prelude to what it will be than anything else. As far as I know, it’s only happened once before, with the Cannon-Bull Stampede dungeon.”

  “The what-the-what now dungeon?” Calisco asked.

  “Each dungeon has a name,” Simmons said. “The one Sage is talking about has a kind of Wordless that looks like a bull, except they have cannons on their shoulders.”

  “How do you know so much about Wordless?” Weiss asked.

  “My uncle is ReSouled,” Sage said.

  “Not just his uncle,” Simmons said. “Sage’s family—the Jilkins—has a long history of producing ReSouled. At least one a cycle for the last dozen cycles. That fact has made them one of the very few families outside of Avalon who know the truth of things. It is still a tightly kept secret, unless you’re the next ReSouled born. They received special permission to help prepare anybody they’d be sending to Avalon.”

  “How?” Eriba said, her voice so quiet Det probably wouldn’t have heard her without ReSouled hearing. “How do they have one ReSouled every cycle?”

  “They breed like rabbits,” Captain Simmons said.

  “I’d be insulted if that wasn’t true,” Sage said. “The pillar I’m from has a tradition of giving birth to ReSouled. I’ll… tell you all about it later. It’s a whole thing.”

  “That’s an understatement,” Simmons said, pushing himself off from where he’d been leaning on the kitchen island’s counter. “But, now, I must be going.”

  “Caused enough chaos for one visit?” Det said.

  “Something like that,” Simmons said. “And with classes starting tomorrow, I really should start thinking about what I’m going to teach this semester.”

  “You’re a teacher?” Calisco said.

  “These dashing good looks and killer personality aren’t just for show,” Simmons said.

  “How do they help you with teaching?” Weiss said.

  “They get me out of trouble with the other instructors when I don’t pull my weight,” Captain Simmons said, his winning smile flashing before he turned serious again. “Jokes aside, I have some pre-class advice for you.

  “This group—you six—are going to get pushed. This is the first cycle we’ve had a full party who know about the Wordless, and it’s going to be used as a test to see how far you can go. And how fast. The more you’re fighting each other, the harder it’s going to be. Put aside your egos,” he looked at Tena and Calisco, “and talk to each other. You have an entire evening to yourselves before we start. Learn about the magics you each have, and how you can help each other.

  “You don’t have to be friends,” this time he looked from Calisco and Det.

  “Why is it always me?” Calisco mumbled.

  “But you are going to be groupmates. You need to have one another’s backs. Need to,” he reiterated the words. “You all bring something to this group, or we wouldn’t be trying this little experiment with it. Make it worth our while.

  “Make it worth your while. Tena,” he looked at the woman. “You wanted a chance to prove yourself. This is it. This group. These people. You’re the Bulwark, which means it’s up to you to go into the dungeon first, and come out last, so they don’t get hurt. That is how you impress people like General Vans and the headmaster. Far more than a meaningless duel on the first day of the semester.”

  “Yes, Sir,” Tena said while forcing herself to stand a bit straighter to prove she was up to it.

  “Good, now, I really must be going,” Captain Simmons said. “Have a good evening, and I’m sure I’ll see some of your tomorrow. Or, at least hear about something embarrassing you did. Yeah, Det, looking at you here.”

  “Just get out,” Det said, which only made Captain Simmons let out a long laugh that followed him down the hall to the door of the suite. Before he completely left though, he turned and gestured for Det to come over.

  “Got another snarky comment you don’t want to share with the group?” Det asked when he caught up to the captain.

  “Nah,” Simmons said. “You know I love an audience. It’s about Ironsalt. You can tell them about it. Just remind them not to share.”

  “You sure?” Det said. “What if one of them knows somebody from the pillar?”

  “None of them do,” Simmons said. “I checked. But, if they get gabby outside this room, the news might reach somebody who is connected, and we aren’t ready for the news getting out just yet.”

  “Then, why don’t I keep it secret?” Det said.

  “Because getting them to trust you is already going to be tough enough,” Simmons said. “No reason to keep things hidden when I’m specifically telling you you don’t need to. Besides, they’ll have questions about the dungeon you cleared solo. If you’re being evasive, it’ll make things worse.”

  “I’m not a great liar,” Det admitted.

  “Gee, I would’ve never guessed,” Simmons said.

  “… aren’t you gone yet?” Det said, reaching around the captain to open the door. “Oh, would you look at that. An open door. For you to leave through.”

  “No need to be like that.”

  “Every reason to be like this. Go, so I can talk to the others. And, thanks for the…” Det looked to the open door. “… the permission to speak freely.”

  “Fine, fine,” Simmons said. “I really do have things to do, anyway. Good luck in there.”

  “Thanks, I think I might need it.”

  “Just be charming, like me. Solves ninety-nine percent of my problems.”

  “I’ve never been accused of being charming, even by my wife. But, enough. Go!”

  “Yes, mom,” Simmons said, then scooted out of the suite at the glare Det gave him.

  As soon as the man was in the hallway, Det closed the door and made sure to lock it as loudly as possible. There was some muffled complaint from the other side, but Det ignored it and went back to the main suite, shaking his head the entire way.

  “So,” Sage said after Det returned. “I guess we should have a talk.”

  “I’ll make tea,” Weiss said.