Amelia Thornheart

Chapter Eighty-Two: Tournament

As the final few days passed, Serena felt a growing excitement.

It was an excitement of three parts.

The largest, most obvious part was the excitement of things to come. The cold winds that swept over the sloped roofs of the plateau city did little to suppress the growing excitement in the streets. It was an excitement that was visible everywhere. It could be seen in the toothy grins of young softhorns amazed at the sparkling decorations. It could be heard in the tired but satisfied sighs of their parents, who were waking up a little earlier or returning home a little later, all to work a few more hours to earn a bit more coin to make the upcoming day special.

To Serena, it could be seen most obviously in Amelia, whose attempts at subtly inquiring about what she might want for Christmas were so naked it was difficult not to laugh.

The second excitement was one that could be mistaken for the first. It was an excitement of that which was lacking. It could be seen in the broadsheet columns, where no longer did the headlines report on battlefield victories and growing discontent over a wartime economy, but instead they reported on peace talks and a new era of prosperity. It could be heard in the discussions of women, where their voices lacked the usual worry over losing their husbands and sons, replaced entirely by hope and anticipation.

The final excitement was different. It was a personal excitement. One that thumped with Serena’s heartbeat and grew or shrank along with her aura. It was an excitement that was hers, but also one that she shared with those like her. It couldn’t blanket the Empire like the first or second excitement, but it didn’t need to. An excitement like this was most powerful when it was controlled, when it was kept simmering like a Word, ready to explode with sudden violence and grandeur.

It was the excitement of a warrior, and the excitement that Serena felt building up in herself and her colleagues as she watched the stands fill with spectators for the Asamaywa Officer Academy’s end-of-year tournament.

With the exception of military talent scouts, the only people permitted to attend the tournament were students and their instructors. Down on the arena floor - where Serena and Amelia were - some students were warming up, trying to get used to the slightly spongy material they would be performing on. Others remained in the stands, silently meditating with their eyes closed, preparing for the task ahead.

“Wish I could compete!” Amelia exclaimed, bouncing on the balls of her feet after Serena finished warming up her disciples. She’d joined in on the warm-up because she, as she put it, ‘Couldn’t sit still’.

“I don’t think that would be fair,” Mel pointed out. “Your wards are too powerful.”

“What if I only used aura?” Amelia asked.

“Speakers can’t compete,” Serena said, shaking her head. “Their increased capabilities from their communion give them too much of an advantage.”

“Bleh,” Amelia pouted. “Well, it’ll be fun just to watch!”

Serena turned her attention to the students she’d personally trained over the last few months.

The reformed and capable Melanie Mori.

The quiet but powerful Flakken Holm.

And the cheerful twins, Ido and Arin Song.

“Remember,” she said. “From the moment the duel begins, everything you do must be to further your victory. If you’re not attacking, you should be either moving yourself or manipulating your opponent into a position where you can keep attacking.” There was so much advice she wanted to give, but she knew it would overwhelm them if she bombarded them with too much. In the end, she decided to keep it simple. “If in doubt, just swing your sword,” she finished.

The group nodded earnestly to her advice. Still, there was a lingering sense of nervousness around them that she didn’t miss. She could see it in their eyes, which would flick occasionally to the uniformed military talent scouts sitting in the stands. The whole situation was most likely nerve-wrecking for the trainee officers. Their performance today could mean the difference between an average contract or being offered a prestigious one that would immediately elevate their careers years ahead of their peers.

Not that their performance today mattered to Serena. She’d seen what each one of them was capable of during their training sessions. She’d already decided to make an offer to each of them after graduation and even had a few names in reserve if any declined.

“They’ll be starting soon, so spend as much time on the mats as you can,” Serena instructed, tapping her foot against the hard foam mats that formed the three separate competition areas.

With some final words of encouragement, she and Amelia retired to the stands, finding themselves a pair of seats with a good view. Down below, Mel was bouncing on the balls of her feet, practising combinations against an imaginary opponent with determined ferocity. In some ways, the woman reminded Serena of a younger version of herself.

Flakken mainly stretched, apparently not looking to expend too much energy before the tournament started. Ido and his sister, Arin, practised their speciality katas on the mats. Ido had chosen an unarmed kata that consisted of slow stance changes before unleashing a flurry of upper-body strikes, while Arin had chosen a sword kata that demonstrated mastery over intermediate techniques.

“It feels like yesterday I was watching you down there,” a gruff voice broke out.

Serena turned her head to see Grandmaster Shun settling down in the seat next to her.

“Feels like yesterday,” Serena agreed.

“Hmm,” the grandmaster hummed. “The atmosphere is better this year. The students are more jovial.”

“Jovial?”

“For almost a decade, there was a spectre of death over this tournament,” the demon growled. “It was the last innocence they could experience before going to war. I would see it in their eyes. A fear they would never admit to...” He paused momentarily before adding, “Back then, I saw it in your eyes, too. Things are different now.” He raised a hand, gesturing to the students below. “With the war ending, I no longer see that fear. I doubt any of these graduates will see the kind of fighting you’ve been partial to.”

“I hope not,” Serena admitted. She’d seen enough horrors to destroy any romantic idea she might have previously held regarding war. Duty and honour meant she would see things through to the bitter end, but she could find no enjoyment in it. In fact, until Amelia appeared in her life, she’d started to wonder if she’d ever experience the feeling of innocent happiness again.

“What about my eyes?” she asked, turning her head to look at the grandmaster. “What do you see in them now?”

The grandmaster locked his eyes with hers. After a few seconds, he said, “I see growth.”

“Growth?”

“Yes.”

“I see.” Serena turned her head, watching Mel continue her rapid practice. Then, she looked across the arena, to the seating on the other side, where the military scouts were making notes and pointing at particular students. “I remember being so desperate to win that year. To impress them. Now, I’m the one scouting for talent. The roles have switched in such a short period of time.”

“Of course they have,” the grandmaster said with a nod. “You’re a Speaker. It’s natural for you to rise through the ranks faster than others. You’ll be a commodore soon, won’t you?”

“You heard?”

“I heard. When’s the examination?”

“Just after graduation.”

“How are you feeling about it?”

“I’m… trying not to think about it.”

“Ha!” the grandmaster scoffed. “From an officer cadet to commodore. We’ll be using you as an example in the lectures to come.” He leaned forward slightly to get a better look at Amelia. “What about you, Thornheart? Has the semester been… enlightening to you?”

“Mmm!” Amelia nodded. “I’ve learned a lot! My magic control has improved, and more importantly, I finally reached red aura! I would love to stay, but I have obligations elsewhere!”

“Ahem.” The grandmaster politely coughed in a manner that told Serena he very much didn’t want Amelia to stay and destroy more of the academy's infrastructure. “I’m glad to hear it. You were the first human guest instructor we’ve hosted for more than two centuries.”

“Oh?” Amelia’s eyes widened. “Who was the last one?”

“A swordmaster from the Sabanis Dominance. His name was Avyan Vinay.”

Amelia asked a few more questions, her enthusiasm for knowledge trapping the grandmaster until a whistle sounded. Below, there was a sudden flurry of activity as more than a hundred students lined up, bowing to the tournament organisers.

The first event was kata, and the three competition areas soon hosted a pair of competitors each. One of each pair would take a red piece of cloth, which they would tie to their red, orange, or (rarely) yellow belts. They would enter the mats, bow to each other, then to the organiser in front before making heiko-dachi - the ready stance. The organiser would select a shimokan kata from the first ten and command them to begin. The students would do their best, and their actions were closely watched by four more tournament referees, each sitting in one of the corners.

Once both students had finished, the organiser would blow his whistle and they, along with the four referees, would raise either a white or red flag to determine the winner.

It was that simple.

“How did you do when you took part?” Amelia asked quietly.

“I came third,” Serena answered. “But my strength was always combat.”

“Mmm, figures,” Amelia hummed. “Why are they only using red aura? To pace themselves?” She pointed down at one pair that were performing their kata with red aura, despite their orange belts indicating that they were capable of orange aura.

“All events are done with only red aura,” Serena explained, her eyes flickering to the military headhunters across the arena. “At this level, control and mastery over the first aura is more than sufficient to determine a warrior's overall ability. But even so, after the kata, one-step, and sparring events, there will be an opportunity for them to demonstrate their higher auras punching and cutting metal.”

“Is it the same for the mages?” Amelia asked. “Are they limited to first-circle magic?”

“That’s right, for the same reason as well as to prevent the chance of a second-circle or higher spell accidentally hitting the crowd.”

“Can’t we ward the arena?” Amelia raised her arm, flexing a bicep. “I could do it!”

“You could,” grumbled the grandmaster. “As could Lunaria, if she ever attended these tournaments. Very few mages could manage to cast an external ward for the length of time needed. The rarity of such a mage means the rules dictate the duels must be conducted with first-circle magic. Your presence doesn’t mean we go against tradition.”

“What about using the two Speaker training rooms?” Amelia asked, blinking innocently.

The grandmaster frowned. “They’re not big enough, and if they were…” His expression darkened. “One of them was destroyed by you and Lunaria, and the other was damaged by Highlord Driss and her… enthusiasm.”

“Oh…” Amelia audibly swallowed, turning and focusing on the matches below. “Oh, look! Mel’s up! Go-”

“Don’t cheer,” Serena interrupted. “It’s only allowed during the sparringevent.”

Amelia quieted down while Mel finished her kata. She defeated her opponent with a passable performance, earning her three flags over two. Serena knew immediately she would be lucky to survive another round or two. Mel was a determined student, but her focus was on combat. She preferred to hone her instincts with sparring and viewed kata as akin to a warm-up.

This was different to her other disciples. Flakken performed better; his kata demonstrated explosive power but lacked enough flow. He moved through his kata like a shawa in a fengra shop; powerful and loud, somehow avoiding bringing everything crashing down.

The best were the Ainese twins, Ido and Arin Song. They were both in long after Mel and Flakken were eliminated. When one of them performed, it was as if their bubbly and cheerful personalities evaporated, replaced entirely with a focused and determined warrior who lived and breathed the teachings of Sangoism. Their katas were both explosive and elegant, with a flow that could only be achieved through thousands of hours of practice.

Serena only briefly covered katas in her sessions, but they must have been diligently training every day before and after. Once again, she was reminded of why she taught them. Not only were they some of the first demons in the academy to defend Amelia publicly, but they possessed tremendous mental strength that was a boon to anyone who might find themselves in a combat situation.

The twins smashed through each round, often winning all five flags. They made it to the final eight where the format changed. Instead of their katas being dictated to them, and the voting done with flags, they would now choose their katas and they would be ranked on a numbering system from one to ten.

The finals took place in the central competition area. The other areas were empty, and the hundreds of demons in attendance, students, instructors, and military scouts, would all be watching the finalists go up one by one to perform their katas.

Such attention would only annoy Serena now, but there was a time when a hundred pairs of eyes on her would cause a nervous sweat. As she watched the finalists, she could see that nervousness manifest. Some would slightly hesitate, or make minor mistakes they hadn’t before. Thankfully, the iron wills of the twins meant their performance didn’t suffer. More than a few instructors were nodding in approval. Serena could hear the hushed compliments around her.

“That was the best rendition of Enpi I’ve seen all year.”

“She invokes the right spirit, doesn’t she?”

“Looks like they’re really fighting someone, doesn’t it?”

“They could become professional shimokan practitioners with talent like that,” the grandmaster suddenly growled. “Ido Song and Arin Song. You’ll be taking them, I presume?”

“I’ll try,” Serena nodded.

“Never forget what pathways of their lives you’ll be cutting off by binding them with a contract. Treat them with respect, Instructor Halen.”

“I shall,” she whispered.

The kata event ended, with Arin winning first place with her swordsmanship, while her brother, Ido, won second with his rendition of Enpi. Their faces were full of happy grins as they celebrated their victory, hugging each other and showing off their medals to their fellow students.

Next, the three competition areas were occupied as they moved onto one-step sparring. This was a structured form of combat. Each combatant would face each other, bow, and then the designated attacker would step back, announce their attack and then attempt to strike their opponent. If it were the unarmed variant, the attacker would punch to the head, then stomach, before switching to front and side kicks. The variant with swords would slash and stab at different angles and locations.

The defender would block, dodge, or parry these attacks and then have the freedom to choose their counter-attack. After each attack, the pair would reset and move onto the next strike. After all attacks had been defended against, they would switch their role. Like with kata, there were five referees with flags. Each one looking for power, speed, and most importantly, control.

Ido and his sister did okay, and Mel did much better, reaching the finals, but it was Flakken who was in his element. His lack of flow didn’t hold him back, and his powerful counter-attacks stood out amongst everyone else. He ultimately came second, with Mel coming in at sixth place.

Flakken was a stoic individual, and he kept his emotions subdued most of the time. Even so, Serena could see him smiling as he examined his medal.

“Hmm,” the grandmaster hummed. “The students who trained under the instructors taught by Highlord Driss are performing much better than their peers.” He turned slightly, looking at Serena. “Is that because you are passing on her teachings, or because the better instructors in this academy were inclined to participate in her training?”

“A bit of both,” Serena replied. “Highlord Driss reminded us of the value of intense and exhaustive training. I took some of the pressure she put upon us and replicated it in my sessions. It seems to have paid off.”

To Serena, it was further validation of the teachings of Sangoism. Namely, the one describing how even the weak will become strong when the right pressures are applied. It was another way of saying that people will rise to the expectations you give them, something Serena had seen first-hand repeatedly in war.

The penultimate event soon started. It was time for free sparring combat, both unarmed and armed.

While four referees remained seated in the corners with their flags, this time the head referee would be on their feet, moving with the combatants to ensure there was no foul play. Each referee kept a whistle in their mouth, and the moment they saw an attack land, they would blow it and raise the appropriate flag to award either a full or half-point.

In a way, this was still controlled combat. The combatants would be reset every time one of them successfully made convincing enough contact. It was far from the terror of real combat, where a determined opponent would keep attacking the moment they saw the opportunity to kill you. Still, with red aura, it was the best method they could use to model a real duel without exposing the students to too much risk of injury.

As the event continued, Serena was again reminded how dangerous it would be if they allowed the students to manifest their highest levels of aura. Even with red versus red, students were getting thrown across the mats from kicks that lacked control. On more than one occasion, matches had to be stopped due to concussions, especially when one combatant's aura faltered at the moment of impact. And that was only with red-aura-enhanced strikes breaking through! If an orange aura strike shattered a red aura, then the defender would be lucky to get away with only some fractured or broken bones.

Unlike the previous events, cheering was allowed during the free sparring, and the students took advantage of that. It began as tepid cheers of encouragement, but as the sparring continued and the weaker students were eliminated, their hearts beat stronger and their cries became more energetic.

“What are you doing!? Destroy her!”

“Break his horns!”

“Go on, Mel!”

“Stop bouncing around!”

“You can do it!” Amelia shouted, joining in with the chaos. “Woo, Mel!”

Encouraged by the shouts, Mel dove forward, executing a perfect mawashi geri that circled around her opponent’s raised arms before slicing down and striking their neck, earning her the winning point and advancing her to the finals.

“Risky,” the grandmaster growled. “Reminds me of how you fought.”

“I’m more cautious these days,” Serena protested lightly.

“Risky?” Amelia asked. “Why?”

“Only for tournament fighting,” the grandmaster explained. He raised a finger, tapping the side of his neck so Amelia could see. “There’s a nerve that runs down the neck, connecting to the heart. It controls the rhythm of the heartbeat. Fifteen years ago, we had a tournament where one student executed a mawashi geri, and their big toe connected with their opponent’s neck in just the wrong way. Hit the nerve, and then…” The grandmaster clapped his hands, his face grimacing. “Dropped dead. Nothing we could do.”

“Oh!” Amelia brought her hand to her mouth. “Well, if that happens today, I’ll be here to heal them!” With that, Amelia turned towards the fighting below with newfound focus.

Luckily, for all involved, such an event didn’t happen, although Mel did cause more than a few nosebleeds. Her aggression and ability to flow her attacks together to give her opponent no breathing room meant she could punch above her aura, defeating even a yellow-belt, who had a far more refined red aura than she did.

She eventually lost to another yellow-belt, coming third overall. Initially, she seemed annoyed at losing, but her expression quickly changed to satisfaction once she had the medal in hand. The free-sparring was the most prestigious event in the tournament and third place was a great start to her career.

The military headhunters were nodding amongst themselves, making notes. Mel appeared to see this, but, if Serena wasn’t mistaken, she seemed more interested in glancing towards her and Amelia, only stopping when Amelia waved enthusiastically, causing the poor girl to blush awkwardly.

“She’s a real talent,” the grandmaster said. “I heard what happened in Kenhoro. Seems that humbling was what she needed to flower. Regardless, my brother must be doing something right to be attracting warriors like her.”

Serena couldn’t do anything else but agree. She made a mental note to be prepared to give Mel a generous signing-on bonus. With her talent and ability, she’d be able to become a squad commander immediately and, of all the warriors she’d been training, Mel was the one she wanted the most for the Vengeance’s crew.

With that thought in mind, the final event began. This was the chance for the students to demonstrate the upper bounds of their auras. Steel plates and rods were brought out, and the students would attempt to punch through the ever-thicker plates or cut through the ever-thicker rods.

“It’s a traditional practice,” Serena explained to Amelia after she asked. “It’s meant to allow the students to expel all of their pent-up emotion during the tournament, and it also allows the military talent scouts a final opportunity to evaluate their capabilities.”

The students were called up one by one. There wasn’t a tournament structure for the final event, and there were no medals or awards. For that reason, the atmosphere was casual and jovial as they began denting and in some cases, punching clean through the steel.

The average red aura of a student could punch through a five-millimetre plate, or slice a ten-millimetre-thick steel rod. Seeing the performance below really highlighted how much Amelia’s wards enhanced Serena’s abilities. She’d already verified that without her aura, she could punch through a half-inch armour plate. With her red aura, that would double.

Her girlfriend’s magic was truly incredible, wasn’t it?

Of her disciples, Flakken did the best. His orange aura made clean work of a fifteen-millimetre plate, and he was able to slice through a twenty-millimetre-thick steel rod. Mel and the twins did okay, but nothing exceptional. That was alright, though. They would have time to grow in the coming months and years.

With the final event finished, everyone lined up and made three final bows. One to the tournament organisers, one to each other, and a final one to the crowd watching them. They then cleared out, moving to the stands or elsewhere while the arena was changed to prepare for the magic events.

“Oh, I see Hinako!” Amelia exclaimed. “I’m going to head down there and give some words of encouragement! See you soon!” With that, Amelia bounced away and was soon down below, chatting to the mages she’d been assisting over the last few months.

“She’s not suited for a life on a military vessel,” the grandmaster intoned quietly. “She’s still too naive about the reality of war.”

“Don’t mistake her optimism for naivety,” Serena replied. “She’s far more aware than she lets on. Amelia chooses to be cheerful in the face of uncertainty and conflict. That’s her strength.” She hesitated before adding, “She didn’t earn her Golden Horn from breaking down and panicking at the charred corpses.”

“...I suppose not.” The grandmaster scratched his nose. “I still don’t fully understand humans. Demons are so much easier to understand.”

“Tell me about it,” Serena muttered, prompting a chuckle from them both.

“Has knowing her made you change any opinions?” he asked, turning to look at her. “About their race?”

“Not change, so much as reinforce.”

“Such as?”

“That we’re more similar than we are different,” Serena uttered with a sense of finality. “Too many demons think they look weird because they don’t have horns, and because they look weird, demons think humans think differently. They don’t. Even if some…” She frowned, watching Amelia cheerfully motion-casting spells below. “Even if some are extra weird.”

The grandmaster smirked at her words, but otherwise said nothing.

They sat in silence until Amelia returned and the magic events began. Most of them followed a similar structure to the last warrior event, where there was no direct competition. The mages were called up and given a short time to demonstrate their aether control with first-circle spells.

What each student did significantly varied. Some demonstrated their ability to conjure large columns of water, before freezing it into distinctive shapes. Others showed their control over earth and sand, creating impromptu defensive structures that could house several soldiers.

When Hinako stood up, she demonstrated her skill at quickly casting multiple spells, manifesting fireballs, rocks, and shards of ice in quick succession that she bombarded straw targets with. Daichi, the most talented mage of the upcoming graduates, did something similar, no doubt inspired by Amelia’s training. However, he carried out his demonstration while floating in the air, causing more than a few people to gasp.

Serena understood why. Normally, a mage could only slow their descent by pushing against the lumina four kilometres below. If they were extremely talented, some could glide or even fly by manipulating the wind at the same time. However, to truly levitate like Daichi was doing required a strong connection to the aetherfield itself. Usually, a mage would have to Speak the First-Word to manage that.

He’s the most powerful prospect, Serena thought. I must make him a good offer.

With the demonstrations over, they moved on to the duels. For safety, everyone but the referees and the combatants evacuated the arena floor, moving to the stands to watch. The mages were given strict instructions that all spellwork must be aimed towards or below the horizon, and they were only able to cast first-circle magic. The students were given time before to construct their wards, and combat would only begin when they were both ready.

Serena thought the duels would be relatively boring, simply a matter of who could be most aggressive and quickly overwhelm their opponent, but to her delight, there were layers of tactics that gave the event a high skill ceiling. 

Mages were most vulnerable when they were concentrating on constructing their spell formations, but the students below were taking advantage of this by feinting their spellwork to invite an incoming attack, only to either dodge or dive behind a quickly constructed earthwork. Others would construct one formation, while cloaking a second formation behind it, forcing the opponent to either adapt in time or take a hit.

When Hinako was up, she’d become locked in a battle of attrition with her opponent. They were both crouched behind their respective earthworks, preparing their spells and then peeking up to take shots at each other. It reminded Serena of two snipers on the battlefield duelling. Just as the time limit was reaching its end, Hinako used her control of earth to burrow under her earthwork and pop up outside her opponent's vision, hitting him with a powerful strike that won her the round and advancing to the finals where she ended up fighting Daichi.

Despite her disadvantage against the third-circle mage, Hinako used every trick in the book, and seemingly invented new ones when she’d run out of ideas. At some moments, she seemed more like a warrior than a mage and near the end of the fight, she even tried to wrestle Daichi to the ground, only having to retreat when he manifested hellfire around his body.

She ultimately lost, but received relatively high scores from the referees. Her variety of tactics and determination had partially compensated for the difference in power, earning her second place while Daichi took first.

“She fights dirty,” the grandmaster said. “But it’s effective. She’ll go far.”

“Mmm!” Amelia nodded. “I told her to fight like that!”

“You did?” Serena raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” Amelia grinned, flashing her a cheeky smile. “I told her to fight like you!”

This idiot!

The grandmaster coughed politely.

“Right,” Serena said, forcefully changing the subject. “I’m going to go down and make my offers.” She glanced at the military headhunters. “Early bird gets the worm, after all.”

“Good luck!” Amelia chirped.

Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, Serena made her way through the stands, grabbing Mel, Flakken, and the twins. They headed down to the arena where the mages were congregating and grabbed Daichi and Hinako. With the students in tow, she found a quiet room and pulled each demon aside to talk to them individually.

She reintroduced herself as Captain Halen and explained that her purpose in joining the academy’s staff was to recruit for an elite team that would operate under her and from the Vengeance. She couldn’t tell them the true nature of the mission they would be undertaking, but highlighted that they would likely travel across the Empire, undertaking unconventional missions that would bring prestige to their names and houses, once their contract was finished.

“Will Amelia be there?” Hinako asked.

“Yes. Not as a member of the military, so neither you nor she will have the right to order each other. She’ll be travelling with us as a civilian advisor.” Serena thought for a moment before adding, “Should you accept, you’ll be able to continue your training under her.”

“Then I accept,” Hinako said firmly, bowing deeply.

Daichi took more convincing.

“I don’t know if my family would agree to it,” he said with a frown. “House Ishitani is, uh…”

“Anti-human?” Serena finished. She’d read Aiden’s reports.

“My parents have always been political isolationists.”

“And you?”

“I…”

Serena let him ponder his words before pointing out. “You’ve been training under her for a while now.”

“I know.”

“She’s a Lord-Prospect.”

“Yes.”

“And a Speaker.”

“So?”

Daichi was quiet for a moment before saying in a low voice, “I must prioritise my family's concerns over…” He seemed to struggle to find his words.

“Does your family's concern weigh heavier than your obligation to the Empress? Are they more important than respecting the concept of Cascadian Lordship itself?” Serena could see he was close to agreeing, so she kept up the attack. “The war is ending, Student Ishitani. You won’t find any greater opportunities for prestige than what I offer. We won’t be sitting on our arses on patrol, I can tell you that. If the presence of Lord-Prospect Thornheart is such a problem, then simply don’t mention it to your family.”

Seeing him raise his eyebrow at her, she continued. “She won’t officially be on the Vengeance’s manifest. As far as your parents will know, you’ll be taking a position under me, the Hellfire Captain.” As much as Serena didn’t appreciate her own nickname, she valued the prestige it brought.

With a bit more prodding, Daichi agreed.

He was a close one, only just passing the background check. While his xenophobic family had almost eliminated him as a candidate, his personal growth under Amelia had given him the edge. He was simply too powerful to let go easily. As a third-circle mage, he would be the strongest mage on the Vengeance after Amelia herself. With Daichi’s agreement, Serena moved on to the warriors.

Mel required no convincing.

Ido and Arin needed a little prodding. Their main concern was being away from the East for too long, but they quickly relented after Serena convinced them that the Vengeance was their best pathway to moving up the ranks and perhaps even becoming Lord-Prospects.

She’d been hopeful she’d manage a clean sweep, but her hopes were dashed by the last person.

“I apologise, Instructor Halen,” Flakken intoned with a bow. “My heart is set on the Northern army.”

Serena saw in his eyes that there was no convincing him.

“Very well then,” she replied. “At least allow me to write you a letter of recommendation.”

“...It would be an honour. Thank you, Instructor Halen.”

After Flakken left, Serena sat in silence, pondering her options.

She’d been given permission to recruit six from the academy.

Daichi. Hinako. Mel. Ido. Arin.

Five talented individuals, with the room for immense growth.

Noburu. Seonmi.

Two cadets with little combat ability.

She needed one more.

Serena went over the names she and Aiden had prepared in this eventuality. It was a short list of warriors, promising students. The only problem was that Serena didn’t know them.

Ideally, she’d want one more with experience. Someone who was open-minded, but had also served.

Someone…

Ah, damn it.

Serena sighed.

It would have to be that woman, wouldn’t it?