The next morning, the roommates all went to the arena for their first combat classes. It wasn’t just them, either, as Det found out when he entered. The majority of the other two-hundred cadets had already arrived, with the rest not far behind, and they were all led to the same place where the duels had taken place. The main arena space.

  Having expected to find himself in another one of the training rooms, Det’s mind flashed back to his fights on that very sand the day before. Despite how much he’d thought he’d bled against Fourth, the sand was completely free of any red.

  Like thinking about her conjured the woman, Fourth passed across Det’s field of view about a hundred feet away. Two others walked with her, and the trio stopped beside another group of three, baby-face—Aarak—among them. Those had to all be her suitemates. When she coincidentally looked in his direction, Det lifted a hand to wave at his chosen rival.

  An eyebrow quirked at his greeting, and her lips moved as she spoke. Distant as she was, there was no chance of hearing the words, but it wasn’t like he needed to. “Still so out of your league,” she’d mouthed in his direction. He couldn’t argue that wasn’t true. For now.

  “Rejected,” Calisco said from beside him. She had her arms crossed as she also stared at Fourth and her roommates, and had clearly seen Det’s wave.

  “It’s not like that,” Det said. “Beating her is my next goal. My next target.”

  “You seem to be trying to be kind of friendly for somebody you want to punch in the face,” Calisco said.

  “I’ve had a lot of practice,” Det said, then looked at Calisco so she knew exactly what he meant. The gesture went clean over her head—or she just ignored it—while she kept her attention on the other group.

  “Know anything about the others?” she said.

  “Nothing,” Det said. “I didn’t even know who Aarak’s roomies were until right now. Or about Fourth, before yesterday.”

  “Aarag,” Calisco said. “Why do you keep getting his name wrong?”

  “I don’t think it’s me who is getting it wrong,” Det said, but didn’t push it any more than that.

  “Do you think they’re all as strong as Fourth was?” she continued, completely ignoring him. Like usual, really.

  “I sure hope not,” Det said.

  “Probably aren’t,” Sage said, joining the pair. The others weren’t far behind, leading to all six of them staring across the arena floor at Aarak, Fourth, and the others.

  “Why would you say that?” Weiss said. “They put us all together on purpose.”

  “Because Aarak wasn’t anything special,” Sage said. “No offense, Det.”

  “None taken,” Det said.

  Sage gave him a thumbs up. “Anyway, later on, we’ll have war-games against the other groups, from what my uncle told me. If the admin stacked a full suite with people as strong as Fourth, they’d roll over the rest of us. Wouldn’t make for much of a competition, which would mean less arena attendance.”

  “You’re saying they’ve split up the most powerful people into different rooms to balance out the competition a bit?” Weiss clarified.

  “Exactly that,” Sage said.

  “Simmons and Beauty have both mentioned there are several stand-out cadets,” Det said. “I think they would’ve mentioned if they were all in the same room.”

  “Meaning the rest of the group is average,” Calisco said. “Like you guys.”

  “Ahem?” Tena said.

  “Like you guys, other than Tena, who’s almost as awesome as me,” Calisco amended.

  “Insults aside…” Sage said.

  “That was a compliment,” Calisco said. “Especially for Det.”

  “Average is higher than her usual opinion of me,” Det admitted, then shook his head at why the hell he was defending Calisco.

  “I thought you were impressed with his performance the other night?” Weiss said, and more than a few of the cadets around the group turned at his choice of words.

  Calisco glared at him.

  “After you blew his clothing off,” Weiss added, the corner of his lips twitching like he was fighting a smile. That got a few raised eyebrows from the other cadets.

  Okay, Weiss actually has a sense of humor. A mean one, but since it’s Calisco… go Weiss!

  “We’re going to talk later,” Calisco threatened Weiss, then looked at the other cadets who were glancing between her and Det. “Not even friends, so get your minds out of the gutter.” Unlike with Weiss, her glare had the other ReSouled backing off and backing up. They’d seen her explode her opponent in the initial duel, and if that was coupled with a short temper…

  Entertaining as all that was, Det wasn’t some high-school teenager who needed to defend his—or Calisco’s—honor or reputation. With each suite having six ReSouled in it, there were bound to be relationships that formed. Det wasn’t going to be one of those, but he also didn’t need to waste time and energy arguing the point. It wasn’t why he was here.

  Learning how to fight was.

  Det put the remaining grumbles and threats out of his mind, along with Fourth and her roommates, and took a better look at how the arena had been set up. It wasn’t completely empty like it had been for his duel, and there wasn’t a line of torture devices like that first week. In their place was something Det should’ve expected.

  Weapons. Lots and lots, and then lots more, weapons. Lining the entire inside wall circling the arena.

  More than he thought possible, and he had a pretty good imagination considering just how many things he’d been stabbed, cut, crushed, and chopped with during the week of fun and torture. Short and long-range weapons. Knives, swords, maces, axes, spears, full-on lances, chains with spiked balls at the end, and that over there… yeah, that had to be a ballista.

  Are we strong enough to carry a ballista…?

  He allowed himself a quick moment of boyish imagination of bringing one of those to a fight. Wildly impractical, but great image. Like that meme of a rogue using a ballista to backstab somebody in a tavern with a high enough sneak roll.

  His daydream got interrupted by one of his roommates stepping into his field of view and walking straight to one of the tables laden with weapons. The last person he would’ve expected to be interested in anything other than explosions.

  Calisco strode right up to the table full of staves, ran her fingers along one after the other, then finally seemed to find one she liked. Picking it up, the staff was a touch longer than she was tall, with iron caps on both ends. Dark wood, and a solid inch-and-a-half thick. With her ReSouled strength, it wasn’t like it would be difficult for her to lift.

  “Uh… Cali?” Tena asked. Everybody in the group was wondering the same thing Det was. Namely, what the hell was going on for her to go pick up a ‘bonk-stick’. Given her track record with the weapon, Det had expected her to keep her distance. Or explode the table. One or the other.

  “Det proved it yesterday,” Calisco said. “We can’t just rely on our magic. I can’t just rely on my magic. We need to learn how to fight. And if that means me and this stick need to come to an arrangement, well, that’s what we’re going to do. Right, stick?”

  “You’re… not really expecting it to answer back, are you?” Weiss said.

  “No,” Calisco said, turning a dangerous look in Weiss’ direction. “But I am starting to expect I’ll find out how far I can shove this up your…”

  “Attention, cadets,” a powerful voice called out, drawing all eyes toward the center of the arena. There, a man in a white robe—covered in what looked like thumbnail-sized white scales—held a white, Wordless staff in front of him. A simple motion brough the staff to the sand-covered arena floor, where the slight impact rumbled like thunder, silencing any lingering conversation.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  The headmaster. Myrddin. One of the thirteen S-Rank ReSouled on active duty.

  Behind him stood another of the rare S-Ranks. One of the ReSouled who’d come to pick up Det and Calisco from Radiant in the first place, and enlisted them to assist with the emergences on Ironsalt. General Vans—The Wall—stood in his white, full plate, helm nestled in the crook of his right elbow, while his massive tower shield rested on the ground beside him. Standing nearly seven feet tall, with a thick, braided beard, the man had to be at least part Viking.

  Just to General Vans’ right was the other ReSouled who’d come to pick up Det. Captain Simmons, aka Bladestorm, with the unnaturally perfect curl of his hair hanging in front of his eye. Though the man was “only” A-Rank, from the gossip Det heard around the campus, he was very strong for his Rank. Expected to be the next S-Rank, too. And his magic wasn’t even his hair. No, it had to do with the swords he wore on each hip, along with the ones he had strapped to his back.

  All in all, it looked like Simmons had five swords with him today.

  I haven’t seen him with that many since we went down to Ironsalt.

  Letting that little mystery go, Det’s eyes continued across the gathered instructors. Most of them he didn’t recognize. Beauty and Beast were off to the side. Present, but not actively teaching that day? Jeckles, likewise, was present, but standing over with a group of what had to be Medics. The ancient looking A-Rank ReSouled, Baba, stood in front of the group, giving out quiet instructions.

  Unlike when she’d healed every cadet—at the same time—during the week of fun and torture, there was only one copy of her. That was a good sign there wasn’t a stadium full of suffering coming in the near future.

  Other than the Medic group, and homeroom instructors like Beast and Beauty, almost everyone else was carrying weapons of one kind or another. Makes sense considering the lessons for the morning.

  “This morning will be your first, formal lesson in what shall likely become your primary activity with the Mistguard,” the headmaster said, his voice once again carrying across the arena floor. “Violence.”

  Not beating around the bush at all there.

  “Our role is to protect the people of the Nivelhime Kingdom from all the threats that come their way,” the headmaster continued. “From pirates to the denizens of the Corelands, or even threats from within our own borders. The dangers are ever present and numerous. Yesterday, we all had a bit of fun with the duels that took place on this very sand.” Myrddin gave a small, fond smile. “The dueling circuit you will all be part of will serve as excellent practice and training for you.

  “However, it’s important to remember that while we expect you to succeed in the arena, this place is not your final goal.” The headmaster lifted his arms as if to take in the whole space. “What you do here is only part of the preparation for what you will need to do out there.

  “And, to that end, before we begin our training, we first need to identify where your strengths and weaknesses lay.”

  Another test? They really don’t believe in teaching first, do they?

  As the question zipped through Det’s mind, his gaze went to Captain Simmons. Like the man knew Det was going to look at him, their eyes met through the man’s perfect curl, and a grin spread across his face. One that made Det’s stomach drop. That man only smiled like that when something he found entertaining was about to happen.

  Something that wasn’t fun for anybody else.

  “Along the walls,” Myrddin continued, unaware of sadistic smile on Simmons’ face. “Are weapons of almost every shape and size. The collection includes traditional weapons by pillar—if they have them—as well as many tools you may find familiar from your days on Earth. Don’t worry, we don’t expect many of you to be experts with any of these weapons, but the choices you make and how you wield them will tell us a lot about you.

  “I see some of you have already staked your claim.” His eyes stopped on Calisco, and she awkwardly held the staff out in front of her like she was trying to ‘cheers’ with the headmaster’s own staff. After a second of standing like that, red running up her neck, she thumped the staff to the ground and just nodded.

  “A good choice of weapons, if I do say so myself,” the headmaster said with a warm laugh. “Now, since the focus of our lesson today will be on you, your bodies, and the weapons you carry, I have brought along a familiar accessory I shall ask you all to wear.”

  The man snapped his fingers, and something—or, more accurately, hundreds of somethings—lifted up from the stadium seating and then floated down to stop in front of each and every cadet. Though they didn’t have the chain linking the two bracelets, there was no question what the cadets were looking at. Siltsteel.

  The material that completely suppressed their ReSouled magic.

  And, since the headmaster had brought them out again, it could only mean he expected the cadets to wear them for the training.

  Det reached out and grabbed one of the floating bracers, the metal feeling more like stone than steel to his fingers. As soon as he had it in hand, the headmaster’s magic released it, and Det slipped it over his wrist. That done, he snagged the second manacle, and repeated the process with his other wrist.

  By the way the feeling of his magic vanished to his senses, the chain links from before clearly weren’t necessary. Then again, they’d been in place to help restrict the cadets so they didn’t do anything stupid while they were being hanged.

  “I am glad to see you all catch on so quickly,” Myrddin said. Det wasn’t the only one who’d guessed what was expected of them. Within seconds of the siltsteel appearing in front of them, all one-hundred-and-ninety-nine cadets had slipped the bracers on and sealed off their own magic. “Next, I’ll ask each of you to choose a weapon—or weapons—from the tables along the wall.

  “For those of you with more experience than others…” Myrddin looked in Fourth’s direction. “I’d encourage you to choose your weapons of choice. For everybody else, pick what you believe you will be comfortable with, or have some practice. We need to see what we have to build off of, so please bring your best showing.

  “You have five minutes to make your decision.”

  With the declaration, the headmaster took a step back, clearly indicating it was time for the cadets to make their choices, and that questions weren’t part of the process.

  “Shall we?” Sage said with a shrug.

  Det looked in Simmons’ direction. The man’s smile hadn’t faded.

  “Three minutes,” Det said. “Find whatever weapons you want and meet back here.”

  “Why?” Sage said at the same time Calisco asked, “Who made you the boss?”

  “Simmons knows something we don’t,” Det said.

  “I’m sure he knows a lot we don’t,” Tena said.

  “Something about what’s going to happen,” Det said. “And I don’t think its footwork training. Get your weapons and get back here. Whatever it is that’s coming, I bet it’ll be better if we’re together and ready for it.”

  The other five shared a thoughtful look before turning towards Captain Simmons. As soon as the man saw them looking in his direction, he gave a cheerful wave.

  “He’s not even trying to hide it,” Weiss said.

  “Which makes me even more nervous,” Tena said.

  “Agreed,” Sage said. “Let’s do what Det suggested.”

  “I’ve already got my weapon,” Calisco said, holding up her bonk-staff one more time.

  “Then meet back on Tena in two and a half minutes,” Det said, already turning toward the table full of swords and the growing crowd around it. As soon as he moved, the others also sprung into action. Tena, unsurprisingly, went right for the table with shields. Since she couldn’t use her magic, she couldn’t create her own spear and shield. Det didn’t see where the others went, all his attention on spotting—then weaving through the others around the table—and grabbing a katana of choice.

  He could’ve grabbed another kind of swords. There were plenty of sabres and rapiers, both something he had plenty of experience with through fencing. Short and longswords he’d used during LARPing and renaissance fairs. He’d even toyed with a Roman gladius for a Halloween costume, not to mention the dozen other sword types he’d experimented with.

  However, the katana was the only sword he’d been in a real fight with. The only one he’d killed Wordless with. If the headmaster wanted him to bring his best, that would be with a katana. A quick check of the sheath with a one-inch draw told him he didn’t need to worry about the blade getting caught, and he was already heading back to where Calisco stood.

  The others didn’t take long to return either, each of them carrying their weapon of choice. Tena had grabbed a metal tower shield, as well as a spear that was about six inches longer than she was tall. Sage had grabbed a longsword from a table near where Det had been looking. Eriba hadn’t grabbed a mace like Det had expected. It was the weapon she’d been given to use by Beauty, but she’d apparently found something she liked more. A crossbow. She’d even been smart enough to grab a hip-quiver of bolts.

  That just left Weiss, and the man hadn’t grabbed any weapons.

  “Weiss…” Sage said. “I know how you feel about violence, but…”

  “It’s not that,” Weiss said. “I’ve been giving what you’ve all said a lot of thought, and I agree I some measure of fighting may be necessary to bring about a peaceful world.”

  “Then you should probably grab a weapon,” Tena said. “Maybe an axe?”

  “I am the weapon,” Weiss said. “If I let myself, I can do far more damage with my fists and knees than I could with a sword, a spear, or an axe. I trained for years in the ring to hone my body into the most dangerous thing I could make it. If they want to see my best, that would be it.”

  “Okay…” Sage said, and shrugged. If this is what it took to get Weiss past his reluctance of fighting, the rest of the party wouldn’t stand in the way of it.

  “Good,” the headmaster’s voice echoed from above. “I see you have all chosen your weapons.”

  Wait… above?

  Det looked up to find the headmaster—and all the other instructors—floating closer to fifty feet above the arena floor. They’d all left, including the Medics and homeroom teachers.

  “Now that you’ve made your picks, let’s not dally, and instead jump right into the first test,” Myrddin said. Behind him, the grin on Captain Simmons’ face couldn’t have gotten any bigger, and that look made Det draw the sword from its sheath then and there. “Your task is simple. Find a way to bring down your enemies.”

  “Enemies?” More than one cadet asked.

  They got their answers a moment later when metal gates all around the arena began to open, and huge monsters stalked out. The things had to stand almost eight-feet tall when walking on four legs, and weigh several tons each. With a back half kind of like a cat, and the front half closer to a bear, the beasts had massive shoulders and thin waists. Something about the powerful muscles rippling in their back legs told Det they would be anything but slow. The thick, heavy arms meant they wouldn’t be weak either. Their tails doubled the length of their bodies, and ended in bone-like clubs as big as Det’s thigh.

  With how many gates there were around the edge of the arena floor, more than twenty-five of the monstrosities padded out, noses up and sniffing until they caught the scent of something interesting. The cadets.

  “You’ll all pass once you’ve managed to kill each and every one of the birokks present,” the headmaster said. “Until then, this may hurt a bit.”

  With the words, three things happened.

  The first was Baba splitting up into hundreds of copies of herself. Second was the arena-shaking roar of twenty-five birokks. The third and final thing was Det asking Weiss a question.

  “You sure you don’t want that axe?”

  He didn’t have time for an answer, unfortunately, with thousands of pounds of angry monsters charging at the group of magicless ReSouled.