Avatar of Lightning.

  Most of the time, it’d be more powerful as a force multiplier. An extra body—and a disposable one with all of my spells and skills—was a massive advantage against almost any enemy I could think of. But against someone like Deborah, it wouldn’t be enough. Besides, we’d thought that Deborah’s tank skills scaled with the number of enemies, and I couldn’t disprove that yet.

  But there was another way to use it.

  I finished laughing. Thunder-King Yalagan was the inspiration—the hobgoblin we’d first fought in the trap portal, then again as a Paragon. He’d shrouded himself in the storm in the form of an ogre. But unlike his massive ogre, my Avatar of Lightning was barely larger than me.

  This was my final ace. If it didn’t work, I’d be in trouble—and Deborah would have the win. The watery dome around us kept the arena chokingly small, and there’d be nowhere to go. Worse, keeping Avatar of Lightning running in this form wasn’t sustainable. It consumed exponentially more Mana the longer it ran, and I hadn’t had a full tank to start with.

  Deborah coughed.

  I moved. One-handed Thunderbolt Forms. Lightning crackled as my storm-enhanced, A-Rank body rocketed to its limits. Rain-Slicked Blade punched into Deborah’s gut, and she doubled over around the sword as it burned her flesh. She recovered fast. Her sword sliced through the air, but I was ready for it. Lightning Chain. It connected to the floor a few feet away, and I pulled myself off my feet. Avatar of Lightning hit the dried moss and stone, and fire smoldered where I rolled. On my feet in time to block Deborah’s shield.

  Cutting Storm.

  My blade lashed out, and a dozen wind-and-lightning blades lashed out with it. Cuts appeared across Deborah’s head. Hair burned. Blood hissed as it splattered against the hot stone below. Then Deborah’s shield slammed into my chest, and the Avatar of Lightning crumpled with the blow.

  I grinned. “Try harder, Deborah.”

  Her eyes radiated hatred. But there was something else there, too.

  Cyclone Forms. Cloudburst. I rarely used the skill, but a sudden burst of wind ripped down from the watery dome’s ceiling, slammed against the ground, and sucked the Mana out of the air. Deborah froze for a fraction of a second, then stopped. Her eyes narrowed even further.

  “Got you,” I said. I pressed the attack, and Deborah fell back in front of me. The lightning around my body surged as my Mana dropped, but I matched her every blow, and we hammered away at each other, lunge matching slash matching shield bash. I piled on the speed, flanking and stabbing from every side, but Deborah activated her shield skill again, and my weapon didn’t find its purchase. Her face dripped sweat, and she was breathing hard.

  I was wearing her down. Somehow, I was winning the battle of attrition.

  Avatar of Lightning faded off.

  Stamina: 75/460, Mana: 03/590

  I was out of Mana and low on Stamina. I’d barely even hurt my opponent. But I was winning—I was sure of it. As we traded blows back and forth, I got more and more confident. She wasn’t that tough. I could take her.

  It took almost a minute to realize I already had. She was low on Stamina—lower than me. And she hadn’t tried her instant kill skill again. She probably couldn’t—not if she wanted to maintain her shield and the water dome. I’d beaten her in a war of the resources.

  Cheddar and Sarah Cullman were outside. I excluded them, then fired off another Stormbreak. The zones appeared, and I smiled as the lightning flowers blossomed. Deborah’s Mana bottomed out, and the watery dome collapsed. So did Deborah and I as electricity ripped through our nerves.

  But Cheddar didn’t.

  A burst of sunlight concentrated into a lance of burning-hot light ripped across Deborah’s back and neck. She screamed in agony, then clamped her mouth shut and tried to get to her feet—only for a foot to slam into her chest.

  The Spark of Life stood over her, fury in her eyes. “I called match, Deborah Callahan. The fight is over. Kade Noelstra is the winner.”

  Deborah wasn’t in danger of dying.

  That was Sarah Cullman’s professional opinion as she left the injured, resource-starved S-Ranker to three delvers—all A-Rank and all contracted with the GC—who’d been guarding the sparring room. I didn’t care either way. I’d won, and that was enough for now. The two of us hurried up the tunnel and toward the portal’s exit, then stepped into the Fallen Delvers’ Memorial at the base of the stairs.

  “I apologize, on behalf of the Governing Council,” Sarah said quietly. “Deborah wasn’t supposed to be able to enter the tournament at S-Rank—and we should have caught her and disqualified her the moment she hit it. The Fallen Delvers portal interacts with S-Rankers in a different way than lower-ranked delvers. I should have been more than capable of crushing her barrier just like I rode out your skill two rounds ago.”

  Sarah’s words went in one ear and out the other. I didn’t care about the GC’s apologies. I didn’t even care about my fight with Deborah or how she’d managed to stay in the tournament as an S-Ranker. The Spark of Life’s healing magic poured into broken ribs and deep cuts across my body, and a small part of me felt the pain as my wounds slowly stitched themselves together.

  But mostly, I was focused on the hundreds of urns overhead—and on one specific urn. Roger Gerald, C-Rank fighter. Dad. He’d seen me fight. I knew it. And he was proud of me for finding a way to win against someone so much stronger than me. He was proud of me for taking care of Jessie.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  He was proud of the delver I’d become. He had to be.

  I let myself bask in it for a minute as Sarah Cullman talked. It felt good. Like I’d made it somehow. All the work I’d done—the planned build, the Stormsteel Core, the merges and Laws—had paid off. I’d kept my promise, and Dad had seen me keep it. The stairs beckoned to me. Ellen, Jeff, and Jessie waited at the top, and I wanted to see them and start celebrating my victory, then make a plan for clearing the Fallen Delvers portal.

  But Sarah’s hand closed on my bruised shoulder, and the quick burst of pain brought me back to reality. “Did you hear a word I said?”

  I winced, then shook my head.

  “Okay. Quick recap. You’re not going up those stairs. We’ll take a different route up, you’ll stand on a platform with the GC’s big shots, have a photo op, and receive your prize. Then, you and I can catch up with your people. You’ll enter the Fallen Delvers portal tomorrow morning at 6:30, with a hand-picked team of delvers that’ll get you to the Vision Door. After that point, you’ll be on your own.” Sarah shivered. “Good luck with that part. It’s a doozy.”

  “You’ve been there?”

  “When I was A-Rank. I failed. So have the other guards, the ones dealing with Deborah. The portal’s offer is tempting, and failure is just as rewarding as success. But you only get one try. That’s why we could be in here. The portal world won’t let us push past the Vision Gate. Now, let’s go.”

  I let Sarah Cullman lead me down a tunnel, up another flight of stairs, and onto a platform. Harriet Meyers shook my hand, and so did the Phoenix Reborn, Nathan Anders. The big, formerly retired delver grinned. “Good fight, kid,” he said, and for a moment, I got a flash of the God of Thunder in his tone.

  Then the award ceremony started. Someone put a trophy in one of my hands and a key in the other. It was portal metal, but no matter how I looked at it, it swam in my vision, like it wasn’t real. I stared at it as Nathan Anders read a pre-written speech about bravery, heroism, and sacrifice in the city’s defense. The ceremony felt artificial and fake—and it was. The GC wasn’t doing any of this for me. They never had been.

  Everything they’d done—the entire tournament—was in the name of calming Phoenix’s nerves during a siege the city’s defenders couldn’t break. I had a part to play, so I did my best, accepting the symbols of victory as graciously as I could and smiling for the dozens of cameras.

  But it wasn’t until I saw Ellen’s face that I smiled for real. She was brilliant. Her smile was almost ear-to-ear, and she couldn’t stop. I caught her eye and mouthed ‘I told you so’ at her. She narrowed her eyes theatrically, then rolled them. Jeff and Jessie were there, too—Jessie leaning on her cane like she was pretending it wasn’t a bad day. I glared at her, and she shrugged sheepishly. Then I refocused on the speech and on the role I had to play.

  “Kade Noestra, you’ll meet your team here tomorrow,” Nathan Anders finally wrapped up after almost fifteen minutes. “No one has cleared the Fallen Delvers portal—and no one who’s failed can talk about what’s past the Vision Gate, except to say that it’s left an impact on them forever. We hope you’ll be the one to change that.”

  I shook his hand, and the ceremony stopped.

  Somehow—against both a C and a B-Ranker—Jessie got to me first. She hit me like a missile, cane clattering onto the concrete below my feet. “I knew you had it, but I wasn’t sure! How’d you deal with her instant kill? That was so cool!”

  Ellen was next. She stopped a few feet away—wisely. Jessie switched from a massive hug to punching me and crying into my stomach, and Ellen looked like she was torn between joining her, grinning like an idiot, and dragging me back to the guild master’s suite in our guild building. In the end, she settled for standing just out of range of Jessie’s flailing fists. “When the water barrier went up, we couldn’t tell what was happening. The entire crowd outside was just guessing based on blurs and flashes. It was…it was rougher on Jessie than me, but it wasn’t fun.”

  I nodded. “Sorry.”

  “Not your fault,” Jeff said. “You did what you had to do.”

  Ellen shrugged. “I mean, you could have wrapped it up a little faster, but I’m excited to see what’s in the Fallen Delvers portal.”

  “Oh.” I hesitated. Then I coughed once. “The GC already has their team picked out. Something about a Vision Gate, and not being able to cross it. I don’t know the specifics, but they seemed to have it all set up already.”

  Ellen stiffened. I slowly disengaged from Jessie, setting her on the ground to glare and smile at me at the same time, and closed the gap, then wrapped my arms around my partner. “I’m sorry. I thought a hand-picked team meant I’d be picking the team—you, Jeff, Yasmin, Raul, and Sophia. One last clear for the six of us. But there’s a good reason for the team they’ve picked. I trust them, and I’m not going to keep secrets from you. The six of you will hear everything that was in there, and I’ll make sure that if I find anything I can share, you’ll get it first.”

  I kept holding Ellen as she stared over my shoulder at the Fallen Delver’s Memorial. Her body slowly relaxed in my arms, and after maybe fifteen seconds, she nodded. “Fine. Just keep your promise.”

  “I always do,” I said.

  Ten minutes later, I stood in front of the Fallen Delvers Memorial.

  The thin, tall diamond that hovered over the memorial filled the air above me, names scrolling slowly across it. I thought I recognized one or two new ones—delvers who’d died with the Carlsbad convoy, or ones who’d fought on the Wall during the first day of the siege—but I wasn’t sure. They all blurred together.

  Jessie stood, shaking, a few feet away, and Ellen and Jeff watched from a nearby bench. I’d offered to introduce them, but they’d both declined. According to Ellen, there’d be time for that later. Today wasn’t about her. It was about me.

  I typed in Dad’s name, then touched the palm scanner. My hand stayed on it, just like it always did, as the machinery clicked and ground. An urn popped up, held on a platform, so close I could have touched it if it weren’t for the glass around it.

  “Hi, Dad. I know you saw it, but I won. I miss training with you. My friends are good—they’ve dragged me through this tournament, and without them, I wouldn’t have had a chance. Jessie’s been busy, too. I’ll let you talk to her in a minute.” I swallowed. “I’m going into the portal below you tomorrow. Hopefully, it’ll be the last time anyone does. I’m going to clear it for you, Dad.”

  The urn sat there, and I kept talking. I told him all about the tournament and the final fight. About my training in the Crone’s woods. About the siege, and how, now that I’d won the tournament, the city’s hopes were squarely on me—the speech Councilman Anders had given had made that painfully clear.

  “I don’t know when I’ll be back here, Dad, but I’m going to keep making you proud, and make sure Jessie’s safe here. I was so angry when you were trying to teach me. I still am. But I’ve had good teachers and friends—Jeff, Ellen, Eugene, and Jessie. They’ve taught me how to handle it and channel it into something productive, just like you were. So, thanks, Dad. I’ll talk to you later.”

  Jessie nodded, and I stepped to the side to give her a few seconds with Dad before the next person in line got their turn.

  Ellen slipped her hand into mine. I hadn’t noticed her standing up, and I hadn’t noticed that I was shaking until she squeezed my fingers between hers. She didn’t say anything for a long time, and we stood and stared at the Fallen Delvers memorial as Jessie finished up.

  Then my sister rounded on us. “Okay. Back to the Desert Wind building before half the city shows up to stare at Kade,” she said.

  I looked around and, for the first time, noticed that there were a lot of people looking at me. I waved awkwardly.

  Jessie took one look at me and punched me in the shoulder, wincing from the impact. “Let’s go. We’ve got a victory to celebrate!”

  There are 30 more chapters on . Come see! I'm blown away by the number of people checking it out.

  I'm offering a single chapter in advance for all free members on Patreon. If you're interested in reading ahead, please feel free to join for free. Thank you.