Nate listened as Morgane’s answer to Bordain’s offer washed over the palace grounds.

  “We will never kneel before a usurper. You could have proven that you deserved to lead this nation and its people, despite your loathsome ideas. But you had to go and support your foul ideas with fouler actions, spending the lifeblood of our people and our family in your desperate need to be acknowledged as ‘better’. Well, I do not. I do not acknowledge you as better. I do not acknowledge you as King. You are just one more petty tyrant, convinced of your own superiority,” replied Morgane resolutely.

  “Convinced? No, little sister. I know I am superior. I am… supreme. And if you must be forced to see that, then I will oblige,” Bordain answered in a deep baritone.

  Nate felt a swelling of power coming from the giant of a man as Bordain began to unleash his Skill, the oppressiveness in the air growing. But not before something else caught his attention. The red-headed Fire Mage had slipped up behind a woman with similar red hair. He recognised both, from their descriptions. Garnet, one of Bordain’s elites, and the Duchess Desmarais, the woman who had tried to have him killed. His farsight sphere of awareness could tell him their movements and mana, but didn’t carry sound. A small rune on his robe handled that, though, as he heard Garnet’s whisper to the Duchess, the Fire Mage’s hand on the nape of the Duchess’s neck.

  “For my sisters, for me, and the life you stole from all three of us.”

  Then mana flared and Nate goggled as the Duchess’s head was immolated, burning her in a flash of fire and leaving nothing above the neck.

  Nate sensed everyone reacted to the sudden burst of fire. A gigantic Razorlash that could only be Topaz was preparing to leap forward. The Royal Guard, led by the First Sword, rushing to meet Cutter and the people of the Slums. House Korinth charging Bordain, even as Evindal and Aisling lifted off the ground, matched by an older man that had to be Verian. Chaos was about to erupt, and yet, the building oppression did not stop. Then, the Skill was unleashed and everyone collapsed to the ground, pushed into the dirt by a tyrannical aura that told them that they were less, that they belonged in the dirt, kneeling before their betters. Nate’s Soul Barrier was screaming and it was draining away at his mana, unable to block all the foreign soul energy. Only Kiri seemed to be able to withstand it, though even she was hunched over as she struggled against Bordain’s aura.

  “Love me or hate me, you all kneel,” boomed Bordain. “Because against true power, against true supremacy, you are nothing. All of you exist at my pleasure, and if you fail to live up to my standards, fail to perform as expected, then you will be returned to the dirt that you are little better than. This, little sister, is the truth of reality. Only power matters. You failed to reach for it, while I did not. A second evolution Mythic. The first our House has ever produced. And the only two who might have been my peers fell for your sweet words that told them being weak was acceptable. That they did not need to strive for more. They, like you, disappoint me.”

  Nate could feel it in Bordain’s words. Belief. The kind of belief that would give rise to an Embodiment. The kind of belief that could give rise to Divine Energy. But that belief was based on a false premise. The premise that Bordain, because he had achieved Mythic at his second evolution, was better than those around him. That idea drove the Aura to make those around Bordain weaker, lesser. Nate could feel what it was doing. It was lowering his Stats, and by a significant amount. To fight the man was to be made weaker, because Bordain believed everyone was weaker. But, could his belief be shaken? Could his Embodiment be weakened? Nate remembered that many Embodiments came with provisions, like the warlord from the Kirshell Mountains who was greatly empowered if he struck first. Was Bordain’s the same? Did his Embodiment empower him against those he believed weaker?

  He closed his eyes, his mind moving fast as he debated his options. For years now he had hidden the true nature of his Class and Tier. He had brought a few people—his friends and family— into his confidence. But even now, Bordain, Morgane and the rest of those present outside of a very few, believed he and Kiri were Legendary Class holders. Was now the time to reveal the truth? He thought so, but it wasn’t just his decision to make. He looked to Kiri and saw her watching him, ready, a tight smile on her face as she resisted the Aura of man who believed himself Supreme. It was time to disabuse him of that notion.

  Raising his eyes, even as he struggled to lift himself out of the dirt, he used the Sound Rune on his robe of stars to project his voice, letting it wash unimpeded across those gathered.

  “You call us your potential peers. Kiri and me. Because you believe we might be able to match your achievement. But you’re wrong. About everything. About what it means to be King, to lead, your sister’s dreams and the value of the people who have gathered here, willing to die to oppose you. But worst of all, you are wrong about us. We are not your peers. We were always better than you. By your own words, it is we who reign supreme.”

  For the first time since he arrived on Galle, Nate and Kiri in unison, revealed their Statuses to all present. He sensed the shock as the realisation washed over the battlefield. Morgane, despite her shock was quick to respond, enlarging their Statuses so the words towered over all present, revealing that they were first evolution Mythics and a step beyond Bordain.Across the battlefield silence reigned.

  “That’s a lie!” Bordain yelled, breaking the spell that had fallen over the combatants, but Nate could tell the damage was done. The Aura Skill was weakening as Bordain’s belief in his own supremacy waned. The Skill did not vanish entirely, but without the man's Embodiment behind it, many of those with soul protections began to rise, standing as dust fell from their knees. Nate felt Cutter pull his grandson to his feet, whispering to him. Similar scenes played out throughout their forces, as Bordain’s own supporters looked on, shaken.

  “Less than some commoners from the edges of our country,” snorted Morgane derisively, piling on as she had clearly read into Nate’s intent. “Proof that it is not birth that determines greatness. This! These two! They are what you would deny us, while simultaneously claiming that it is for people like them that you wish to rule. You're either a fool, or insane. Surrender, brother. You have failed.”

  Bordain’s face was furious, but Nate could see the emotion in the man’s eyes. Confusion. Confusion as everything he had believed to be true was ripped away. Nate sighed as he saw what lay beneath that tenuous belief: desperation. Thankfully Nate hadn’t been wasting his time. Even before they had arrived at the palace, Nate had distributed the fifty tokens made from the remains of his Mana Release trinket. Members of the terribly named ‘Artist’s Revenge’ had happily taken them and listened to his request, moving into the formation he had asked them to assume, and through his sphere of awareness he could tell they were basically where he needed them to be.

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  “Turn it on,” he sent to Frick.

  The Connection Rune deep below the ground, engraved into the mana pipeline that powered the palace and its Legendary Dungeon, activated, sending mana to the surface and into the fifty trinkets as Nate used his Intent to connect them into one single array. Soul, Protect and Body combined and the remains of the oppressive aura vanished, unable to compete with the sheer volume of mana being channelled to the surface.

  The vanishing aura seemed to be the signal that crystallized Bordain’s will.

  “Kill them all,” he commanded.

  With those words, the battle began in truth.

  *************

  Luc vanished as soon as the words left Bordain’s mouth, appearing upon the palace roof as he prepared to rain down hell. Or, at least, so he had made it appear. His half-brother took the bait, appearing nearby even as Luc extracted a thousand needles from his storage. Luc could sense the cage of space Thierry had encased himself in. A barrier that Luc could not pierce. He knew that for a fact. He had tried before, after all, when his half-brother had killed their father.

  “You know how this is going to go, Bastard,” crowed Thierry, a smirk on his lips.

  “I do. I really do,” muttered Luc. “Waited a long time for this. I owe that kid. He handed me everything I ever wanted, and he didn’t even ask for anything in return. Not really. He’s too kind by half.”

  Luc activated the Legendary item Nate had given him, the Mythic Space Rune drawing out a large portion of his Mana Reserve as it locked down space and Luc felt his ability to Riftwalk vanish, space refusing to answer his call.

  “Me? Not so much,” Luc finished, savouring the look of shock on Thierry’s face as his half-brother’s spatial barrier vanished under the spatial lock and a thousand needles ripped through the man in a second, spraying blood everywhere as Thierry was obliterated in an instant.

  Luc looked down on the battle below as he tucked the Legendary Spatial Lock trinket away and pulled out some mana gems to start restoring himself as his half-brothers eviscerated corpse collapsed on the roof next to him. It was time to wreak a little havoc and now, there was no one left to contest him.

  *************

  Aisling flew through the sky, her movements shaky and the wind refusing to answer her call as Verian continued to seize control of the elements. The air itself turned against her and she gave up on it, launching a blast of lightning at Verian as she fell onto a waiting branch. The tree twisted, rushing forward as it helped her to avoid the pillar of flame that dropped upon her from the sky above. Her amazing husband was keeping her in the fight, but Aisling knew she was at a disadvantage. Verian could contest all her elements; she had no true storm to back them up which made her weaker. All she could do is buy time and try to keep the Headmaster of the Royal University from aiding Bordain. A blue flower, larger than she was, bloomed above her as Evindal shielded her from her returned bolt of lightning while Verian continued to use her own attacks and abilities against her.

  Then she wasn’t alone, Luc was standing next to her.

  “Looked like you could use a hand,” he quipped, a smirk on his lips, flippant even now.

  “You’re supposed to be dealing with their space mage!” she growled.

  “He’s a corpse. Kid does good work. Let’s not be dead weight, yeah? You’re the Stormspear. So get that spear out and let’s go to work!”

  Aisling felt it as pieces of metal melded onto her leather armour and she rose into the sky under Luc’s power.

  Above waited Verian, floating on the wind, looking down upon them and the world. Aisling smiled. She would rise to the challenge; spear in hand she launched into the sky.

  *************

  Olithia was a woman of few regrets. She regretted the state of Etrua, but she was here now, putting that regret to bed. She regretted the death of her husband. He had been a good man, but the Kirshell Mountains were a dangerous place, and he had burned with desire to take a Thunder Roc as a mount. She couldn’t fault him, when that same ardent desire had been what drew her to him. A desire for life. To experience it to its fullest. And she regretted that she had never managed to lure that young man to her bed. He was a lot like her husband, even if his desires were different. To her eyes, he blatantly burned with them.

  She did not regret fighting, though, the threads of her robes lifting into the air around her as they hardened to steel. She launched her attacks against those idiotic nobles who had decided they’d rather kiss Bordain’s feet than stand among peers. Her retainers clashed with the traitors as the sleeves of her robe helped set Marquess Leclair up for another brutal strike with his hammer. She relished every second of battle, of feeling alive and fighting for something worth fighting for. Maybe if she was impressive enough she could still attract his attention. After all, she had seen his Class and the truth about him. Mythic. That was interesting to her, certainly, but less so than his Primary Class. Runic Artist. Well, she would give him a show worth painting, then maybe he would be willing to paint her. She didn’t mind what he used to do so. Not at all.

  *************

  Cutter saw everything. His vision taking in the battle in its entirety even as he focused on the man in front of him. A man he could not hope to defeat. First Sword Jaran, Commander of the Royal Guard, and death with a blade. Cutter’s spear probed, prodded, but never truly engaged. He could see the difference between his weapon and the Commander’s sword. An actual engagement would see his spear obliterated and he would swiftly follow. Instead, he deflected, gave ground, using footwork and the fact that they outnumbered the remnants of the Royal Guard ten to one. At his side stood his grandson, launching cutting blades of water to keep the First Sword from having a moment’s reprieve. It came at a cost. The dead were already littering the ground, buying freedom for their families and friends with their lives. Because for every six desperate warriors from the Slums that fell, they took another Royal Guard with them. But deep down, Cutter knew that wasn’t going to help against the First Sword. The only thing truly keeping the man at bay was the occasional arrow that launched out of nowhere. The first had nearly taken the man in the eye and he had grown wary of overextending since. But how much longer could that last? Cutter just hoped it would last long enough. If not… well, he’d led a good life. He’d make sure his grandson got the same chance. For that, any sacrifice was on the deck. He’d capsize his own ship if it meant the lad would sail free.

  *************

  Morgane screamed as the Gold-ranked Retainer of House Korinth was launched across the grounds, his chest caved in. Nate and Kiri had bought her a chance. A chance to put an end to her brother’s madness. But even suppressed, he towered over the battlefield. The first casualty had been Duke Korinth himself. The aura suppression that Nate had provided only worked at a distance. Once Bordain was within a few metres, it returned. While her brother’s belief that he stood over everyone had been broken, it hadn’t shaken his belief that he stood over most. That included those facing him, and even with Morgane’s Illusions protecting them, her brother was still dismantling them. She created an Illusionary wall, then made it Resonate with Reality, becoming real for a moment. Bordain punched straight through it, blasting another House Korinth retainer away with the blow. Her interference had saved the woman’s life, but had barely slowed her brother. She dug deep, and fought for the lives of those around her, hoping he would run out of steam before he killed them all, but she had doubts of her own.

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