Subject: Jahefer Fauros

  Status: Chosen Sword

  Level: 25

  There were no words for my excitement as the gap between us closed.

  Jahefer’s long curved sword whipped at me. I stepped in and parried the blade, shoulder-charging him as I stepped through, SHIELD pulsing to smash him back.

  A Griidlord of my own level. A Griidlord of the same type as mine. The first fair fight I’d ever been given. I felt the eyes of thousands on me as we clashed, visors blazing, energy crackling between our weapons like fireworks. It was a light show of terrible violence and wonderful electricity. My blood bubbled with the desire to simply win.

  ***

  We had ventured the chance to battle when a moderate Orb had fallen only a few miles from our fort. Chowwick and Magneblade had yet to return, but recon had reported that the only force close enough to contest the Orb was a similarly depleted expedition from Miami.

  Making a mad dash with a few thousand troops under Footfield, we deigned to leave Alya in the fort. With only Tara and myself able to take the field, we couldn’t risk Alya. We would struggle to keep her safe and wouldn’t chance her. The idea was to simply investigate the Orb and only engage if the odds were far on our side.

  We had come upon the Miami expedition as they siphoned from the Orb. But the sight of them only stoked my hunger. There were only two Griidlords with a very modest force. They might have possessed the Orb, but we fielded a larger force, and we had other advantages. The other suits were a Sword and an Axe. They would feel confident, the Axe having advantage over me. They could not yet know about Axe-break. Once the world knew of the skill, it would benefit us in other ways, forcing opposing forces to array themselves carefully, forcing hesitations. But for now, it was a secret weapon; the surprise of it could make this a day easily won.

  Their forces consisted of spear soldiers with large shields, a detachment of archers, and a wing of war chariots.

  Darkwater rallied the cavalry to his banner and sped toward the Orb, swinging wide. Ironveil led our own infantry directly at the Orb. It was an enveloping strategy. The two Griidlords were still attached to the Orb, a Miami officer hurriedly banging at their shoulders, trying to rouse them from the strange sludgy awareness that consumed a Griidlord attached to an Orb.

  Tara and I dared to seize the chance. As the Miami forces redeployed, turning to guard themselves from the sweeping cavalry and the marching foot soldiers, a natural corridor formed between their ranks that would give us access to the Orb.

  It almost felt easy.

  The Miami chariots were a reasonably unique proposition. They seemed ornate and unwieldy, but they had the benefit of being constructed under high Order. Beneath the fa?ade were frames of alloys and carbon fibers, inflated tires, and advanced suspensions. They still seemed to be a stupid concession to some old tradition—far less practical and more costly to deploy than mounted soldiers—but they brought their own unique challenges as well.

  Among the many disadvantages of the chariot was its difficulty in redeployment. The chariots were awkward to turn and were taking too long to arrange themselves to counter our cavalry.

  A knockout fight seemed to be tempting us. With their chariots moving too slowly to react, and the corridor available to the Orb, the only real obstacle was the High-Order Miami deployment near the Orb.

  One of the few reasons Miami could justify deploying an outmoded tool like the chariot was its ability to carry heavier weapons into the fight. A row of chariots was lined in front of the Orb, heavy machine guns mounted and aimed at the approaching Boston spearmen. A terrible carnage waited to be unleashed there. Those guns alone would be enough to win the battle.

  But Miami had chosen to have both Griidlords siphon Flows, opting for speed over flexibility.

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  Tara and I bolted across the field, reaching the machine-gun chariots before either Miami suit could detach from the Orb.

  I detested how easy it was to kill mortal men as a Griidlord. With POWER seized, my visor blazing, I moved from chariot to chariot, disintegrating human forms with the power of my sword, turning machine guns to slag with CUT and BEAM. It was a matter of moments for Tara and me to dismantle the undefended ranged weaponry. Just in time, before the Miami suits charged us.

  ***

  Jahefer didn’t seem to have the Assess skill. He came at me with the casual disrespect of a grown man facing a child. He knew of me, knew the Boston Sword was a rookie. He was only a couple of short decades in the suit himself, his ceiling clearly approaching based on his unadvanced level.

  Still, he expected me to be leveled far below 10 as a rookie in the early part of the season. He expected to brush me aside quickly and join his Axe in defeating Tara. Even with their machine guns destroyed and their position quickly becoming encircled, Miami would have a clear advantage if they removed Tara and me from the field, leaving two Griidlords to pit against our forces.

  Jahefer had years more experience than I did. I felt the nuance and skill in every blow. But I also felt the surprise he experienced as my strength matched his. Our swords smashed together, the lights of our CUTS merging and erupting in showers of sparks.

  He staggered back from the first contact, gasping. “How… you’re green…”

  I didn’t waste breath on conversation. From the corner of my eye, I could see Tara was struggling. I needed to defeat Jahefer before Tara was downed or forced to yield. I sailed at him, my CUT flaring with might and intent.

  He backpedaled awkwardly, dodging and parrying my blow away. I spun in the dirt and charged him again, giving him no chance to recover. I had him off balance, and I intended to finish him while he was off balance.

  He raised his sword and feebly tried to keep me from him. It was a new and wonderful experience to match evenly against another Griidlord, to have even, it seemed, the edge over another god.

  I didn’t understand how I wound up on my ass. One instant I had Jahefer folding under the weight of my attack; the next instant, I was sitting in the grass, my body dazed, smoke rising from the surface of my blackened suit. The ground around me was charred, little fires licking at desiccated vegetation, smoke and ash curling in the air.

  What the…

  Jahefer pierced a veil of black smoke, his sword tip leading the way. I had to shake off my confusion and react. I found my feet again and worked my sword against his. He was coming with real fury now, pressing his advantage.

  My mind assembled what had happened. I had an instantaneous memory of his suit glowing red. I realized he’d used a skill—a skill that involved turning his suit into some kind of firebomb.

  The smoke rose and swept around me, curtains of blackness that moved in the wind, obscuring the field. I caught a glimpse of Tara, backing up, folding under the pressure of the Miami Axe.

  I heard a feral snarl coming from me. I felt the frustration of the setback rising up from the pit of my stomach. Jahefer cursed as I returned his ferocity with more of my own. I would show them what it was to fight me; I would show them what I could become. Today I crossed blades with a weaker Sword, but it was an example of what I intended to become. He matched me in level, and I would destroy him. One day I would match them all in level, and they would come to understand there was no resisting my force.

  Jahefer gasped, “How the fuck are you doing this… you’re a child…”

  But I had him. He was flailing and stumbling again. I knew the Axe was coming. I had glimpsed Tara kneeling as the smoke parted again, knew the Axe would be stalking me through the smoke. I smiled inside my helm; he knew not of Axe-break. I could put them both down in a few seconds. Tara might be yielded, but she was mostly unharmed; once the battle was won, she could siphon flows.

  I felt the presence of the other attack. I practically vibrated with excitement. The two armies hadn’t come to contact yet; all eyes would be on me. I could see the dramatic figure I would strike, besting not one but two Griidlords, shrouded in tendrils of smoke like a furious war god.

  I pulsed BEAM and sent Jahefer flying. He wasn’t defeated, but I needed the space to use Axe-break. It was a single-use ability, and I didn’t want to waste it. As Jahefer hit the ground, I felt a warm surge on my skin, my suit accumulating experience from the success. I didn’t level.

  I turned as the blazing visor of the Axe glowed through the black fog. I could see the pulsing outline of his weapon as it swung up. I smiled thinly. I didn’t cherish the damage I would do to this man, but I was thrilled at the legs my growing legend would gain.

  Axe-break surged. It was a truly exhilarating skill to employ. It was like CUT, but bigger and beyond me. The rocketing force of my sword moving was like something outside of me. My sword flashed, the radiating power driving the smoke away like a hurricane.

  I staggered at the end of my follow-through, the energy of the blow pulling me forward.

  I blinked.

  Wait…

  The Axe stood a few feet away, unmarred. He raised his weapon again, a growl rumbling in his throat.

  I… had missed.