The party spent the rest of the night practicing footwork, sparring, and teasing Det. Not necessarily in that order. As for why they spent so much time doing that—the sparring, not the teasing—it was more so Det could see how to fight with a sword and shield, not just how to defend with one. It’d be all fine and dandy if he could block every sand-spike that came his way, but what was he going to do when he finally closed the distance on Aarak?

  Stabby time had been his plan. A good plan, in his mind.

  Tena taught him that his sword wasn’t the only weapon he’d be carrying. A shield used with a bit of extreme prejudice could make for some nasty combos. Something the group worked on all the way until they were kicked out of the room at midnight. By that point, it was good somebody came along to tell them how late it was getting. With the supernatural endurance of a ReSouled, they could’ve wailed on each other all night.

  Beyond getting Det a boatload of shield practice, there had been two other big wins from the night. The first was that Weiss had actually taken a swing at Calisco with his sword. Frankly, Det was shocked it took him that long to try and kill her, but, baby steps. That swing had led to a second, then a third, and so on. By the end of the night, he wasn’t a shivering mess about his body remembering how to fight.

  And, the glimpses of what Det saw when Weiss let his body lean on the kickboxing training he’d acquired in a past life was kind of scary. The man would suddenly just move with the instincts of an apex predator on the hunt. Then he’d remember himself and fall into a cycle of apologies and guilt. Once he got by all that, he’d be an absolute unit of a healer.

  As for the second win, it was just the whole group getting along a bit better. They’d been through a lot already, but the stress of torture, and then almost getting murdered by giant ants or marionettes didn’t give people a chance to get to know each other. That was changing, little by little, and Det didn’t mind the company. It certainly helped they fit in with his drive’s need to get stronger.

  The workout with Tena—the sparring, not the on-the-floor-tangle-that had the real Tena blushing for almost an hour—had improved Det’s capabilities across the board. Almost as importantly was the time he spent during the fights practicing creating kernels. It wasn’t perfect, but with some effort, he’d at least be able to do it. Sometimes.

  All in all, he almost felt bad for baby-face.

  Nah, that was a total lie. He was one hundred percent looking forward to slamming a shield into the other man’s face if he got the chance.

  Daydreaming about that was how he spent the time before he fell asleep, during the morning of class, and right up until the final bell rang for the day. Sure, he’d gotten more practice in with kernelizing and moving his energy through his body, but he knew himself well enough to recognize he was distracted. The coming duel was on his mind. By the nervous energy in the classroom as the afternoon wore on, he wasn’t the only one.

  More than a few people threw constant glances in Det’s and baby-face’s direction As for the latter cadet, he spent the day alternating between fidgeting nervously, realizing he was doing it, and then clenching his fist in annoyance at himself. He somehow still thought he was going to beat Det. He even purposely did as little practice as possible during the day, as if he was worried he would give something away where Det could see it.

  When the final bell rang for the class, baby-face nearly leapt out of his seat in surprise, while Beauty gave a relieved sigh the day was over.

  “Since all of you are clearly distracted by the coming duel,” the instructor said. “Let us be on our way to the arena. There is no specific start time for the duel—beyond after class—but we should not keep the others waiting.”

  Det grabbed the rucksack he’d stored under his desk—he didn’t want to go back to the suite before the duel—then slung it over his shoulder as he stood. Around him, Sage and Eriba had already come over to his desk to support him. No surprise there. It was Trium, Aria, and Crazy Legs he hadn’t counted on.

  “You’ve got this, Det,” Aria said, reaching out to punch him lightly in the shoulder.

  “No doubt about that,” Sage said. “And, thank you three—again—for being willing to spill the dirt on Aarak’s growth while were absent from class.”

  “Wasn’t much to tell,” Crazy Legs said. “He just moved more sand around.”

  “More than he was willing to show in class the last two days,” Trium said, leaning forward. “What else is he hiding?”

  “Just his shame, knowing he’s going to lose,” Det said.

  “He’s not hiding that very well,” Eriba said quietly.

  “She’s so right,” Aria said. “When you…”

  “Let’s discuss those plans on the move,” Sage said, glancing toward the front of the room where Beauty and Beast stood. Waiting. For them.

  “Can’t have the guest of honor being late,” Crazy Legs said, heading toward the door first. It only took a second for Trium and then Aria to fall in behind him. Eriba went next, and Sage motioned with an ‘after you’ gesture.

  “Ever the gentleman,” Det joked.

  “Why do you say that like it’s such a shock?” Sage said, feigning pain in his chest.

  “Because I remember who laughed the loudest last night,” Det said.

  “Oh, you’re not still sore about that, are you?” Sage said. “The way Tena’s double was so sprawled out over and across you, with legs and hands in all kinds of places…”

  “It wasn’t anything like that and you know it,” Det said.

  “While that is true,” Sage said. “That doesn’t mean I can’t have fun with it.”

  “Hence my surprise at gentlemanly behavior.”

  “I’ll have you know…” Sage went on, the banter continuing back and forth almost the entire brisk walk to the arena. Along the way, they picked up the rest of their party, with Tena, Calisco, and Weiss clearly showing their support for who they expected to win the match. Outside of them, most groups didn’t know what to think.

  Baby-face had actually won his introductory match—though Det didn’t see it on account of getting sucker-speared in the face and being unconscious—and, well, Det had yielded. Then, as mentioned, got sucker-speared in the face. He didn’t exactly have a good or promising reputation in the arena. Only the other Arsenal’s had really seen his magic, though word had likely spread about what he could generally do. So, people knew, but they didn’t really know.

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  He'd be able to give them a show. Nothing compared to what Calisco would give them in a few days. Still, he’d prove his point and notch a few reasons for them to forget his previous arena appearance.

  As they approached said arena, Det saw Beast enter the arena door with baby-face, while Beauty lingered near the entrance. He wasn’t hiding he was waiting for Det.

  “Sir?” Det asked when he reached the instructor with the others in his party near him.

  “I’ll take you down to the ready room,” Beauty said. “The rest of you should go find some seats before they fill up.”

  “We don’t get special, front-row seats since we’re in the same party?” Calisco said.

  “As you’re the only party so far in the first-year cadets,” Beauty said. “A system for that does not exist yet. Like everybody else, you need to be early to get the best seats. Currently, you are not early.”

  “Meaning we’re in the back row if we don’t hurry,” Weiss said.

  “I’m too short for the back row!” Calisco said, and took a step to run into the arena. Something changed her mind, she turned back around with a grimace on her face, and walked right up to Det. “Look, I’m going to say something, and if it ever gets repeated, I’ll deny it.”

  “There are witnesses?” Det pointed out.

  “They’ll cover for me. I have dirt on them,” Calisco said.

  “You do?” more than one person asked, including Beauty.

  “Yes, now, listen, cause I’m only going to say this once, and it already hurts,” Calisco continued without looking at anybody other than Det. “Do you remember why you’re doing this duel?”

  “Because you told me I had to?” Det said.

  “That’s part of it,” Calisco said. “Smart of you to listen to me. But, I told you to, because how others look at you reflects on the rest of us. We’ve got something to prove. We’re gonna be the top dogs in this little kennel-academy. Since you’re in our group, we’re judged by the company we keep. Ie, you.”

  “I’m going to win,” Det said.

  “Not good enough,” Calisco said. “Especially not after last night.” She poked him in the chest. “You’ve got a bit of a badass hiding in there somewhere. That guy needs to make an appearance in the arena today. Don’t just win; stomp his face into the dirt and dance on his grave.”

  “I’ll remind everybody present that excessive, unnecessary violence is frowned upon,” Beauty said. “After the academy is finished, these will be your fellow ReSouled that will be fighting at your sides.”

  “Fine, skip the dancing part,” Calisco said with a flip of the hand that wasn’t poking Det. “I somehow doubt you’re a good dancer, anyway. Moral of the story, give his ass a beatdown.”

  Sage’s hand landed on Det’s shoulder. “I’m with Calisco on this one. Show them all why we’re in the accelerated class.”

  “Yeah,” Tena said. “It’ll make me look better for beating you the first time.”

  “I’d already yielded!” Det said.

  “Meh,” Tena said. “What people remember is my spear meeting your face.”

  Det rolled his eyes, but that was Tena’s version of encouragement.

  “Go, Det,” Eriba said quietly from behind Sage, her hands clapping quietly in front of the bangs hiding her face.

  “Don’t look at me for motivation,” Weiss said. “You can guess my opinion on these duels. But, I guess, good luck.”

  “Thanks, everybody…” Det said.

  Calisco poked him harder in the chest.

  “Yes, especially you, Calisco,” Det said. “I’ll win. And,” he added before one of the others could cut him off. “I’ll win big.”

  Calisco stared at his eyes, as if to make sure he was serious about the statement, then finally nodded. “Good. Then go get ‘em.”

  Sage patted him on the shoulder one more time, then the whole party moved past Det, and into the arena. They had seats to find, after all.

  “You and Calisco seem closer,” Beauty said.

  “Not in the least,” Det said. “This is just about how she’s going to look after the duel. We’re still not friends.”

  “Friendship takes many forms,” Beauty said. “But that is not why we’re here. You believe you will win?”

  “I don’t believe anything,” Det said. “I know it.”

  “And yet I don’t see any of your… recently gained advantages with you,” Beauty said, clearly referring to the Wordless loot Det had gotten from completing dungeons.

  “That gear is part of the reason he thinks we’re nepo-babies,” Det said. “If I brought it, he’d use it as an excuse why I won. I’m planning on making it very clear it’s not equipment that wins this fight for me. Just me, my magic, and some preparation.”

  “I’m sure Cadet Aarak is saying the same thing to Beast right now,” Beauty said.

  “Yeah, and she’s going to yell at him when he doesn’t live up to those promises,” Det said.

  “She very much is,” Beauty said. “Now, if you’ll follow me, we must get you to the ready room so the show can go on.”

  Hoisting his rucksack once more on his shoulder, Det nodded, then followed Beauty silently into the arena. Unlike the others, he took a quick right into a small hall, which led down to the lower levels where the changing, training, and prep rooms were located. These training rooms weren’t the same as the one Det had spent the previous evening in—more for warm-ups than dedicated training—and were significantly smaller. Still, there had to be other events in the evening, since a few of them were in use as Det walked by.

  “The rules for the duel are quite standard,” Beauty explained while they walked down the hallway. “You are allowed to bring any of your own equipment in with you. This includes weapons or tools necessary for your magic. As none of our cadets own armor—beyond the basic protective functionalities of your uniform—neither of you will be outfitted with it. The fight, as such, will continue until one of you is no longer able to continue, or one of you yields.”

  “Is there any prep time?” Det said.

  “Not per se,” Beauty said. “You will each be given a ten second countdown before the match starts. Within that time, you are allowed to prepare your magic, but not activate it.”

  “Prepare but not activate, huh?” Det said.

  Beauty gave a knowing nod. “I see you recognize the advantage that holds for you in this particular duel. I should warn you, however, that future duels may have further restrictions on them at that time. Some challenges may even forbid preparing magic during that lead-up time.”

  “Why would I accept a challenge with a handicap like that?” Det asked, the pair of them rounding a corner and heading down a hall leading toward a familiar room.

  “You are under no obligation to,” Beauty said. “When it comes to the dueling ranks you will eventually be part of, there are penalties for continuously turning down challenges if it prevents you from competing.”

  “Rank decay?” Det said.

  “That’s part of it,” Beauty said. “There are mechanisms in place to prevent somebody from building up a dominant early lead, and then sitting back and idling, so as not to risk losing matches and the associated points.”

  “Which means somebody did that in the past,” Det said.

  “Quite successfully,” Beauty said. “Like we have his year, there are those who came to the academy with significant advantages over others. Experience that lends to them being better combatants than the average cadet.”

  “You’re not talking about my group here, are you?” Det said. “There are others who are ahead of us? Captain Simmons mentioned something similar.”

  “Correct,” Beauty said, pausing outside the door that would take them into the ready room. “While you and your group are part of an accelerated class due to your circumstances, there are others on Mount Avalon who are part of an advanced class. These cadets bring with them power or skills that put them more on par with ReSouled who’ve already completed their three years here.”

  “They’re that far ahead?” Det said.

  “Yes,” Beauty said.

  “But none of them are in our class,” Det guessed. Somebody like that, they would’ve stood out.

  “Correct,” Beauty said. “And not something you should be concerning yourself with at the moment.”

  “You’re the one who brought it up,” Det pointed out.

  “… fair,” Beauty admitted. “Any other questions about the rules of the duel?”

  “Not really,” Det said. He lifted the shoulder strap of his ruck. “I have a minute in there to get these on?”

  “Yes,” Beauty said. “Let’s get you in. The gatekeeper will be waiting for us, and coordinating when you and cadet Aarak enter the arena.”

  “Sounds good,” Det said as Beauty pushed open the door. “As long as the person in the room isn’t…”

  His words trailed off as he locked eyes with the man standing next to the gate out to the arena.

  “…you,” Det and the familiar gatekeeper said at the same time.

  It was the same man who’d blocked Det from going into the arena with his ink and brushes the first time, resulting in his need to yield.

  Not the person Det wanted to see before going out to another duel.

  Then again, this was just one more person Det could prove things wouldn’t be the same to.

  As his scowl at seeing the other man turned into a smile, the gatekeeper shifted nervously from foot to foot. He had to know this wasn’t going to go the same way as last time.