The safehouse, or should I say shed, lay in front of me, shrouded in the dim light of dawn. My legs ached from the endless trek through the forest, and my eyes burned from lack of sleep. We’d been traveling all night, avoiding roads and patrols, weaving through dense underbrush and over uneven terrain. Every snapped twig or rustle of leaves had set my nerves on edge, and more than once, we’d had to double back to avoid being spotted. By the time we reached the coordinates, I was exhausted and my patience wearing thin.

  The only small comfort I had was that Lucien looked even worse off than I did. His clothes were shredded in places, hanging off him like rags, and his face was pale with exhaustion. All night, he hadn’t complained or tried anything reckless—no attempts to slow us down or make a break for it. It wasn’t loyalty or trust that kept him in line, I realized; he was just too utterly drained to care. Every step he took seemed to cost him, his movements sluggish and heavy. If nothing else, at least I wasn’t the only one suffering.

  At first glance, the shed looked completely deserted. There were no tracks, no signs of life, not even a hint that anyone had been here recently. For a moment, a sinking feeling washed over me—what if I’d led us to the wrong place? Still, it would’ve been a strange coincidence to find another shed, but after the night we’d had, nothing would’ve surprised me. I hesitated, second-guessing myself, until I took a few steps closer.

  That’s when it happened. As I crossed an invisible threshold, the surrounding air seemed to shimmer, and the dilapidated shed transformed before my eyes. What had once looked like a crumbling ruin was now a sturdy, well-maintained cabin. The illusion was so convincing that I nearly stumbled back in shock. Relief flooded through me—we were in the right place after all.

  Corvin and Isla were outside, standing near the front of the cabin. Corvin’s sharp eyes locked onto me, and Isla gave a small nod of acknowledgment. I raised a hand in greeting, my voice rough from exhaustion. “We made it.”

  Corvin’s gaze shifted to the man beside me. “Who’s your new friend?” he asked, his tone cautious but curious.

  I gestured to Lucien, who looked just as weary as I felt. “This is Lucien. Until yesterday, he was a loyal subject of Sedeus. But he’s had a change of heart. He realized that paranoid leaders aren’t exactly reliable. He wants to join the resistance. And he’s got information we desperately need.”

  Corvin studied Lucien for a moment, then nodded. “Come on, Lucien. This’ll be an interesting talk,” he said, gesturing toward the cabin.

  “So, enjoying the sunrise?” I said to Isla, nodding toward the faint glow on the horizon.

  She lifted her sleeve, revealing the armband wrapped around her forearm. “I couldn’t sleep,” she admitted, her eyes gleaming with excitement. “I’ve been too eager to play around with it, testing how it enhances my illusions.”

  “Well, I was almost ready to turn back,” I replied. “The place looked so dilapidated, like no one had been here in years.”

  She beamed at the praise. “I know, it’s incredible what you can do with it. Too bad it didn’t work for you—you could’ve definitely reached Sedeus’s level.” Her voice grew wary. “If he has an armband, you won’t stand a chance.”

  I smiled faintly. “Well, he definitely has at least one armband, but I don’t think it works for him either.”

  She raised her eyebrows, skeptical. “How can you be so confident?”

  “As I was saving the new guy,” I said, nodding toward the safehouse, “I ran into someone wearing a bracer almost identical to the one you’ve got. Sure, it was dark, but there’s no mistaking it, he was way more powerful than I expected him to be.”

  She squinted, waiting for me to continue, but when I stayed silent, she pressed, “But how do you know they won’t work on Sedeus?”

  I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “Obviously, this part is conjecture, but the accident I had, the one that made me allergic to portals and, now, it seems, powerful artifacts happened because I traveled too close to the gods’ dimension.” She opened her mouth to interject, but I pressed on. “They were human at some point, and if I got affected by just a small exposure, then they definitely have it—whatever it is. And it stayed a part of them even after they returned to human form. At least, that’s the theory.”

  She seemed lost in thought for a moment, then nodded slowly. “Now that you mention it, he would never give an artifact to a follower, no matter how loyal, if it could bring him even the tiniest shred of power.”

  “Great minds think alike,” I said with a tired grin. “But even great minds need sleep. I’ll let you play with your new toy. Is there an empty bed somewhere?” I asked, my voice heavy with exhaustion.

  Isla pointed toward the cabin. “Second room on the left. Try not to snore too loudly.”

  I chuckled weakly and made my way inside. The room was small, with a narrow bed pushed against the wall. I didn’t even bother taking off my boots—just collapsed onto the mattress, my body sinking into the thin padding. Within moments, the world faded away as I drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep.

  ─── ????? ───

  By the time I woke up, it was late afternoon—or maybe early evening. My sleep schedule was completely wrecked now. I groaned, rubbing my eyes as I sat up on the narrow bed. My stomach growled loudly, and I thought some food might cheer me up, but the options were pitiful. They had the equivalent of hardtack, but somehow even less tasty. I even joked, asking if they were conjured, but all I got in response was a snide remark about me being a fussy eater. Well, obviously I was. Even after a year or so on this planet, there were so many foods I missed from back home. The only consolation was that, in theory, I could conjure up food like I did with the chocolate. Sure, that had taken me weeks of practice, and conjuring wasn’t exactly easy to get right, but at least I had something to look forward to. If only I hadn’t been dragged into this whole mess, I could’ve still been selling chocolate and conjuring a pizza every night.

  I laughed to myself as my attempts to recreate some of the staple foods from Earth. But the wheat here was different. It didn’t taste bad, exactly, but it had a… distinct taste. And the cheese options were severely limited. Oh, and they didn’t have tomatoes. You really can’t make a pizza without tomatoes. Not a good one, at least.

  “Finally awake?” a voice interrupted my thoughts.

  I almost didn’t recognize Amra’s voice. Now that I thought about it, we hadn’t really talked much. “Yeah,” I replied, stretching. “My sleep schedule’s all messed up now.”

  “The guy you brought had some good information,” she said after a brief pause.

  “Was that a compliment?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “Isla made sure to underline that you’ve been avoiding us partly because of me,” she started. I raised my hand to say something, but she cut me off. “Let me finish. At first, it seemed like you took all this as a big joke, and I couldn’t understand why she vouched for you. But you’ve proven yourself. You’ve done a lot to help the resistance—more than we have, in fact.”

  That was surprisingly human of her. “If we’re on the topic of apologies, I have to bring mine as well,” I said. “I didn’t exactly want to come along, but Isla had some good arguments, so I may have been more abrasive than usual.”

  She nodded. “It’s good to know. Let’s go find Corvin, he should have more information.”

  We made our way through the cabin, which was surprisingly cozy despite its modest size. The walls were lined with rough-hewn wooden planks, and the floor creaked softly underfoot. A few mismatched chairs and a sturdy table sat in the main room, cluttered with maps, scrolls, and half-empty mugs. The air smelled faintly of pine and smoke from the hearth, which crackled softly in the corner. Doors led off to small bedrooms and a storage area, and I could hear faint murmurs of conversation coming from one of them.

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  Amra pushed the door open, and we stepped inside to find Corvin poring over a map, his brow furrowed in concentration. He looked up as we entered, his sharp eyes flicking between us.

  With him were several members of the resistance, Bendis included. I nodded to them and took a seat on the floor, trying to make myself as inconspicuous as possible.

  “Now that we’re all here,” he began, walking over to a wall where a detailed map of the palace was hung, “let me reiterate where we stand.” He pointed to various locations on the map as he spoke. “Besides the garrison, Sedeus has a personal guard of about a hundred. These aren’t just any soldiers—they’re handpicked from the best the army has to offer. If they prove their loyalty, they’re rewarded with leadership positions in the new territories he conquers.”

  He gestured to three specific spots on the map. “They’re housed in three locations, while Sedeus himself is believed to alternate between two main quarters.”

  Turning to face us fully, his expression grew grim. “The real problem is the secret service he’s been building. We’ve had whispers about it, but not many hard facts. Well, now we do, and it’s not looking good. Most of the beggars, thieves, and working girls in the city have been infiltrated. Anyone who opposed the transition is dead.” He sighed heavily before continuing. “We also learned we’ve been infiltrated ourselves when we expanded to recruit people for the heist. Fortunately for us, the spy was one of the casualties, so he didn’t get a chance to report back.”

  He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in. “The issue—and why I’m glad you’re all here—is that they’ll obviously change some of their defenses now that they know we’ve captured one of their men. But I believe they’ll be slow to act. So, the question is: do we strike while the iron is hot, or do we wait and build up our forces?”

  Amra didn’t waste any time. “You know my position. The more we wait, the more he consolidates his power. From what I’ve gathered from the wounded soldiers, the garrison is still led by some of the old guard. He doesn’t fully trust them, but he must not have enough loyal people to replace them yet. The longer we wait, that will change.”

  After a few seconds of silence, a man I only knew by sight spoke up. “While I agree waiting isn’t ideal, we suffered heavy losses in the heist. A tenth of our people were killed, and twice as many were injured. We’re simply not capable of any major operation right now. We need time to recover.”

  Bendis was next. “There’s more bad news. I still have some contacts in the military, and they say a new campaign is being launched after the games end. Sedeus will be leading it personally. If we want to try anything, we have to do it now. Our allies won’t wait months for him to return. And if he brings back more artifacts, we’ll be in even worse shape. Without our allies and with his guards better equipped, there’s zero chance we succeed in the future, no matter how many people we recruit in the meantime.”

  Other resistance members voiced their opinions, most arguing against a quick strike. Eventually, all eyes turned to me—I was the only one who hadn’t spoken yet.

  I cleared my throat. “Bendis is right. If Sedeus leaves, we can’t just sit around waiting for him to come back. If he keeps the people distracted with games, they’ll never rise up. And once his secret police is fully operational, even you won’t be safe. I’ve read about dictators from my world who rose to power and how they kept it. He’s using the same playbook. If he’s not taken down quickly, the only ways his reign ends are if he dies of old age or a bigger kingdom defeats him. Neither of those is likely to happen anytime soon.”

  “We’re all risking our lives, so we vote,” Corvin said. “All in favor of waiting to rebuild our forces?”

  Hands began to rise, and since our numbers weren’t large, it quickly became clear—they were one vote short. I must have been convincing because I had been sure they would choose to rebuild.

  Corvin addressed the room again. “There we have it. If anyone has a personal issue with this decision, talk to me in private. Until then, take a day off and be ready. We’ll have a plan in a few days, and by next week, when the final is scheduled, we’ll make our move.”

  People started filing out of the room, but as I stood to leave, Corvin signaled for me to stay.

  “We need you for the final assault, so you can’t be in the tournament final,” he said.

  I smirked. “Funny you should say that, because I was paid to take a dive in my next match.”

  Corvin and Bendis exchanged a grin. “Then you can relax. When’s your next match?” Corvin asked.

  I sighed. “No idea. My sleep schedule is so messed up, I don’t even know what day it is.”

  Bendis cut in. “Your match is in two days, in the evening. The final is exactly one week from today.”

  Perfect. Two days of sleep sounded like heaven.

  ─── ????? ───

  The sound of the arena thundered above me as I waited in the dimly lit bowels of the building for the match to start. I was well-rested, my belly was full, and honestly, it was almost a shame I had to throw this fight. Still, I had to put on a good show. The last thing I needed was the new and improved secret police breathing down my neck because I didn’t make the loss believable.

  The plan had taken shape, at least on paper. The final match would be in the late evening, but the arena would start filling up by midday for other spectacles—animal fights, weapon skill contests, and the like. That meant the garrison would be left at minimal strength. Isla would lead the first team, using the bracelet’s power to summon as many illusions as possible, making it seem like a large force had infiltrated the palace. The illusions couldn’t actually fight—she didn’t have fine control over so many—but they’d draw the remaining garrison and hopefully most of Sedeus’s personal guard. Meanwhile, the second group, made up of twelve of the resistance’s most powerful fighters plus me, Amra, and the twins, would hit the two locations where Sedeus was likely staying.

  It sounded good in theory, but I knew things would go sideways. Hopefully, we could adapt on the fly. If not, I still had the option of portaling out, so things were looking decent. By next week, I’d be heading home one way or another.

  I was actually starting to really miss home. Well, mostly Alira, but I’d grown fond of the city too. It had a certain charm I’d come to appreciate. Even Alira’s mother didn’t seem so bad anymore, and thinking about our verbal sparring matches made me smile. Maybe it was because I now had the stashed gold that would let me buy my place and see her as rarely as possible.

  As I got closer to the entrance, I saw my opponent. I wasn’t expecting a warm welcome, but the look he gave me was downright murderous. And I swear I recognized him from somewhere, but I couldn’t place him. I hadn’t bothered to check the big notice boards to see what class he was. Maybe that would’ve given me a clue.

  “Why so serious?” I asked as I approached him. After all, the pre-match banter was one thing I was going to miss the most.

  He didn’t respond, just stared at me without blinking, clearly trying to intimidate me. “Look, if your girlfriend’s a big fan of me, I apologize,” I said, but that got no reaction. Whatever he had against me was personal. I shrugged and turned my gaze forward. If he didn’t want to banter, so be it. I wasn’t thrilled, but I respected his decision.

  “I know you somehow killed Mad-Dog, and I’m going to kill you today,” he blurted, his voice low and venomous.

  I turned to him, shocked. So that’s where I remembered him from—the mission at the Ashfords. He suspected what I’d done. Guess he wasn’t as dumb as he looked. Honestly, it was a good thing; he’d definitely fight with everything he had. “Maybe not killed,” I remarked. “You’ll get disqualified for that.” Not that I was actually afraid of him, but if he attacked me during the ten seconds I was down, he might get disqualified. And who wanted that?

  “Do you think I care about the gold? I entered just for the chance to kill you,” he said, his voice chillingly convincing.

  I smiled. “You know, there are easier ways to do that. Like following me to my inn.” And here I thought he was smart. Maybe I wasn’t as good at reading people as I thought. The chances of us being paired together were slim, and either of us could’ve lost before this match. Not exactly a well-thought-out plan.

  But he surprised me by smiling back. “Until yesterday, I wasn’t sure I could take you. But tonight, you’ll see. I will avenge my brother.”

  Wait, hold on. What could’ve changed in a day to convince him he could take me? That didn’t make any sense. Well, I’d play my part and take the dive after a few minutes. If they got mad at me for him being disqualified, it definitely wasn’t my fault.

  The gates creaked open, and we stepped onto the arena floor, our boots crunching against the mix of sand and gravel beneath us. My gaze drifted to the roaring crowd, their excitement as electrifying as ever. At one point, I could have sworn I spotted a sign that read, We love you, Lightning Man.

  That one stung.

  I hated to disappoint them, especially knowing most had probably bet on this match. And when I lost, it wouldn’t just be disappointment. It would be anger. Frustration. Not ideal, but I had to remind myself there were bigger things at stake. Forcing my focus away from the crowd, I turned my attention to my opponent.

  He was smiling. No, grinning. A creepy, self-assured smirk that said he wasn’t just confident about winning. He fully expected to kill me.

  I wanted nothing more than to wipe that smug look off his face. But maybe he deserved some closure for his brother. I hadn’t technically killed the guy, but I definitely hadn’t helped his chances of survival either.

  Ignoring the crowd entirely, he reached for his sword and drew it from its scabbard. The announcer strode toward us, voice booming.

  “Raise your hand if you’re ready!” Then, in a quieter tone, he muttered to Mr. Grumpy, “Looks good for the crowd.”

  My opponent snarled but complied, raising his sword high.

  I almost laughed at his confidence until I noticed something. As his sleeve pulled back, it revealed an armband that had become all too familiar.

  I nearly facepalmed. Well… that explained his sudden surge of confidence.