Klarion left the class still turning over in his mind how Professor Mordrane had spoken about the early years of the Emperor’s rise to power. She had emphasized how it was not just strength or power but vision that had been the true foundation of the Empire. It made sense to him, and was in fact almost obvious after she had pointed it out. Without vision, power was directionless, strength was fleeting, and ambition was little more than a candle flickering in the wind. Professor Mordrane said that the first Emperor had understood this. He had not merely conquered; he had reshaped the Imperial portion of the Multiverse according to his vision. That, more than any might or ruthless cunning, was why he had succeeded where so many before him had failed.
Klarion’s steps slowed. Around him, students who had already filtered out of their classroom in twos and threes loudly speculated about the lecture. Some openly marveled at the Emperor’s approach, at his brilliance in using the early Legions to enforce his vision on those he integrated into the new Empire. Others spoke of wanting to learn more about the military prowess of the early Legions as a result.
While the group nearest to him talked over what they hoped would be covered next, Klarion wondered over what the vision of House Blacksword was. Or perhaps it didn’t even matter to him. Maybe the more important thing was that Klarion find a vision of his own while here at the Imperial Academy. After all, his House had no banners hanging from the halls of the Academy. No one here spoke to him of his House’s storied triumphs, no sagas of its rise. No one had approached him, seeking to get in the good graces of his House. In fact, those concerned with House Blacksword seemed to simply be motivated by removing its first-year scion. Whatever legacy his House did have had no real bearing so long as the threats against him continued.
Klarion frowned as he stepped out of the way of a scion from another class rushing past. Before he could consider why the other scion had been in such a rush, purposeful movement to his right attracted his attention, causing him to come to a stop. A small group of scions — scions he recognized — had positioned themselves near a staircase heading up to the second floor. For a moment, Klarion hoped they would actually go up the stairs, but the motion that had caught his attention was from one of the scions gesturing in his direction.
Chadwick Copperhand turned to face him.
Chadwick muttered something to the cluster of sycophants gathered around him. They all laughed at some joke Klarion couldn’t hear, but the way they looked at him like jackals scenting fresh blood made it clear what it had likely been about. As Chadwick stepped off the stairs, leading the group in his direction, Klarion caught sight of Hector near the back. While he was standing among a few of the scions who had been involved in the attempt to kill him in the Dungeon, Hector alone looked uneasy. He walked with the rest, but his arms were crossed, and his jaw was tight. In fact, the young man that Klarion had thought once could be his friend looked to have deliberately positioned himself slightly to the side, not quite a part of the group’s easy camaraderie.
“Why, Blacksword,” Chadwick said as he came closer, sycophants behind him, calling out loud enough to draw nearby attention. “I was hoping to run into you. I thought it was about time to give you a friendly reminder.”
Klarion crossed his arms, shifting to put the nearest wall behind him. While he didn’t think Chadwick or his followers would attempt anything right now, it still made sense to be careful with his own safety. “How thoughtful.”
“I do try,” Chadwick smirked. “After all, everyone knows how forgetful the scions of House Blacksword can be. A history of not quite understanding their place with the regional Imperial hierarchy.” He tilted his head, eyes gleaming with amusement. “I wouldn’t want you to make any unfortunate mistakes with timing, so consider this a courtesy — leave before the year is out. Before the deadline to unlock a class.”
Klarion didn’t respond at first, instead letting the silence stretch between them. When he finally spoke, an edge of amusement was in his tone as well. “That is… kind of you. I had assumed you’d arrange an accident instead. Perhaps something similar to what almost happened with the Dungeon?”
Chadwick’s expression didn’t change, but the slight shift of his stance—so subtle most wouldn’t notice—told Klarion he had struck a nerve. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he denied.
Klarion exhaled through his nose, amusement still present in his tone. “Of course you don’t.”
When Klarion didn’t continue with his unstated accusation, Chadwick’s smirk returned. “You’re an outsider playing at being one of us, Klarion. Those at this Academy—we don’t care about how much fight you have.” He stepped forward, lowering his voice slightly. “And no one wants a Blacksword here. Especially one who uses Sentinels to infiltrate another scion’s home. You are a relic of a time that no longer holds any importance to this region of the Empire.”
Klarion’s expression did not shift, but inside, his thoughts were moving fast. Chadwick had just confirmed not only that he knew Jezeri had infiltrated his residence on campus, but that he was openly acknowledging it in front of an audience. Even as quiet as he had said it, he was sure the scions nearest them had heard what he had said. And that meant Chadwick wasn’t concerned about keeping it secret.
“You seem awfully calm about admitting that a Sentinel broke into your home.”
Chadwick snorted, shaking his head with amusement. “Oh, Blacksword,” he said, as though speaking to a particularly slow child. “I’m not the one who should be concerned about what was just admitted. After all, we both know that Sentinels are required to follow very strict rules, don’t we? And yet—” his smirk widened, “—she violated them. Luckily for you—and her—I have no interest in your pet Sentinel. If she even is a Sentinel any longer.”
Before Klarion could respond, Chadwick waved a dismissive hand, his expression still one of amused condescension. “No, in a way, I’m a little impressed you figured out the rules aren’t as rigid as you might think so soon after a certain someone sought to exploit them to the detriment of your allies.”
Klarion frowned slightly at that, his mind immediately turning over the implications. Not as rigid as he thought? He had thought the rules governing the Academy, and the rules governing the Sentinels, were meant to be ironclad. At least strictly enforced with little room for interpretation. And yet, Chadwick was speaking as if they could be bent, manipulated.
His confusion must have been obvious because Chadwick let out a dramatic sigh, shaking his head as if Klarion’s ignorance was an exhausting burden. “Really, Blacksword? You’ve already seen an example of this.”
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Klarion’s frown deepened, though it was less from trying to figure out what Chadwick was talking about and more from considering how to get out of this conversation. Not only was Chadwick an enemy, but he was a smug, annoying enemy. And he was getting tired of his talking.
“The duel,” Chadwick clarified, completely unaware of Klarion’s thoughts. “The one you had at The Hearth & Ember. That shouldn’t have been allowed, should it?” Chadwick continued, watching Klarion’s realization dawn. “And yet, it was. Because, you see, certain individuals can bend the rules slightly, so long as there’s a sanctioned referee nearby to oversee it.”
So that is what it was: a loophole. Not a blatant violation, not an outright dismissal of law, but a carefully arranged technicality that allowed things to happen that normally wouldn’t. And if the same principle applied to the Sentinels...
Klarion’s thoughts shifted again, returning to Jezeri. In a roundabout way, Chadwick wasn’t stating that Jezeri had broken the rules—he was implying that the strict rules governing Sentinels could, in the right hands, be molded to fit a desired outcome. How that would actually happen, however, was unclear. Nor did he think Chadwick would clarify it for him.
As interesting as the mostly one-sided conversation was, there wasn’t much that Klarion thought he could gain from continuing it. Except perhaps to lose only more precious time he could be devoting to planning out how to unlock the class he had picked.
“As much as I have enjoyed this conversation, Chadwick, I have some things to take care of.” So saying, Klarion made to leave to find Hatsune, but Chadwick’s next words brought him up short.
“Of course, of course. I think my words aren’t really sinking in, Blacksword. So, how about a bargain?” When Klarion stopped, turning to look back, he continued. “A festival is coming up in a few weeks—the Festival of the Dawn. A grand celebration, lasting an entire week, during which no classes are held, and the entire plane is given over to revelry and spectacle.” He paused deliberately, letting the weight of his words settle. "If you promise that you will take your ‘classless self’ away from the Imperial Academy by then, I will see to it that you—and anyone foolish enough to align with you—are left alone until the festival is over. I’ll even promise to leave that whore of a Sentinel alone. A generous offer, wouldn't you say?"
The surrounding scions, who had drawn closer as Chadwick had voiced his offer, chuckled darkly, some nodding in smug agreement. They cut off as Chadwick waved for them to be silent.
“I imagine you've read it by now. That bit of personal correspondence, detailing exactly how much power is arrayed against you.” His eyes flickered with cruel amusement. “I almost pity you, Blacksword. You should consider my offer.”
Noble’s Agreement (Binding)
Scion Chadwick Copperhand extends the following terms in a Noble’s Agreement (Binding) to Scion Klarion Blacksword:
1. Scion Klarion Blacksword will voluntarily withdraw himself from the campus of the Imperial Academy before the commencement of the Festival of the Dawn, a week-long festival during which all Academy courses are suspended.
2. Scion Chadwick Copperhand, and all that associate with him, will be bound to not interfere, directly or indirectly, with Scion Klarion Blacksword nor those who associate with him. Should this occur, Scion Chadwick Copperhand, and those aligned with him, will forswear any future actions at the Western Imperial Academy against Scion Klarion Blacksword.
3. Should Scion Klarion Blacksword not follow through with his side of the Noble’s Agreement by the end of the Festival of the Dawn, he will be required to engage in a duel to the death with Scion Chadwick Copperhand with the terms to be negotiated at the time the terms of the Noble’s Agreement are broken by Scion Klarion Blacksword.
Accept: Yes/No
The Noble’s Agreement listed the exact terms that Chadwick had just uttered, though with the addition of a duel to the death between them should Klarion not follow through on his side of the agreement. Though it did not state anything further, the reasoning behind offering the contract was clear: accept the terms, or reject them and face the risk of escalation by Chadwick and his supporters.
Where before he had been in a hurry to leave Chadwick and his supporters behind, now all he wanted was additional time to think. The weight of the decision pressed down on him like a physical force. For long moments, Klarion weighed his options, though thankfully, Chadwick seemed to savor his silence and was not interrupting him. Klarion thought of the list Jezeri had given him, the names of enemies, the subtle machinations likely already in motion against him. To agree to the Noble’s Agreement meant he would be able to buy time—time to research the materials he needed, to unlock the Essences essential for his chosen class, and to solidify his strength without interruption from Chadwick and his ilk for the inevitable challenges ahead. But it would also mean a deadline to get a class, one that would end in a duel to the death. While confident in the stats he might gain over the next few weeks if he were to put all his efforts into leveling, he was less confident in knowing how strong, and how skilled, Chadwick might be in a duel.
It was a risk.
To accept meant guaranteed survival, but only for the immediate future. It meant time to research, to prepare, to train. Most importantly, it meant time to unlock Essences and the class he had chosen. To reject meant potentially stepping into a battlefield he wasn’t yet ready for, given how Chadwick would then know Klarion’s intent to remain at the Imperial Academy no matter what. He already knew which way he was leaning, but the duel to the death concerned him. With how the Imperial Academy worked, that duel could not be evaded. So if he did accept the Noble’s Agreement, he had to be damn sure he would be able to win in a fight with Chadwick.
He looked back to Chadwick. The other scion was watching him with an insufferable smirk, arms crossed as if he’d already achieved his goal of scaring Klarion away from the Imperial Academy. Around him, his supporters waited, their postures arrogantly confident as well. They all thought this was the end for Klarion. They thought he would take the Noble’s Agreement and then slink away, tail between his legs, another failed scion of a House that they saw as being all but dead already.
Fuck that.
He wasn’t going to run. And he wasn’t going to lose either.
Jezeri’s list had shown him that there were more than a few scions already moving against him. If he refused the Noble’s Agreement, he would continue facing them all at once. If, however, he accepted, he could focus on Chadwick alone. He could make his next moves without interference. All he would have to do was unlock his Essences and then unlock his class. Then, he could focus on the duel to the death with Chadwick.
[You have accepted the Noble’s Agreement (Binding) offered to you by Scion Chadwick Copperhand.]
[Departure Deadline: Festival of the Dawn. Failure to depart will result in an official duel to the death with Scion Chadwick Copperhand.]
[Safe Passage Activated: Under penalty of censure, Scion Chadwick Copperhand and those who associate with him are now restricted from interfering with your affairs until the contract deadline.]
Chadwick’s lips curled into a wicked smile as he inclined his head in approval. “Excellent. I look forward to the festival, then,” he said with gleeful menace. “And if you still remain by the time the festival ends, I expect you to last at least a minute in our duel to the death. Until then, take care, Blacksword.”
Klarion stood still, his hands clenched at his sides as Chadwick and his sycophants left to go up the stairs they had been waiting near when he had left Foundations of History. The laughter, the smug glances thrown his way, the condescending arrogance—it set his teeth on edge, but he let it go. Let Chadwick think he had won, that he had Klarion backed into a corner.
Klarion waited until Chadwick and the rest disappeared up the stairs, then turned away, his movements slow, deliberate. If any of Chadwick’s lackeys had still been watching, they wouldn’t have seen a man defeated. They’d have seen someone composed. Resolved.
Chadwick had made a mistake. He just didn’t know it yet.
He was going to enjoy the look on Chadwick’s face when he drove his greatsword through the arrogant noble’s chest.
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