Chapters 36-38

Forgot that I hadn't scheduled the last two days' chapters, my bad.

Chapter 36

Sabinus Cornelius left his horse tethered in a patch of marigolds a few kilometers from the outpost wall and continued on foot. The moons were thin tonight—good fortune for a man who preferred not to be seen—and a salt wind blew off the Dead Lands, bringing with it the dry reek of ancient dust.

The lanterns wavered along the wall ahead of him, but their rhythm felt wrong: whole stretches of barrier that separated the living and the Undead were black, and the sentries who should have walked every hundred heartbeats were nowhere in sight.

Father had suspected as much—patrol rosters forged, watchtowers left unmanned, the Gens Aemilia is coasting on their martial reputation.

Aurelianus had cleared Dungeons and cursed stretches of the Dead Lands, but when it came to protective duties, which might have been even more important than accruing levels in fights, the Gens Aemilia preferred turning a blind eye to it. Their focus was on growing their military power by sending soldiers to fight in strategic locations, not on protecting civilians.

And Sabinus was here to confirm it.

Sabinus re-checked the sigil behind his ear, the focus point for the Skill, felt its faint, reassuring pulse, and slipped into Veil of Radiant Refraction—the Skill he had developed by using the knowledge of his family's Great Skill and applying it to stealth.

The world smudged around him as Mana and light both curved away from his outline; to anyone's eyes, he would have just dissolved into the night breeze. Even a practiced [Mana Sense] sweep would skim past an empty pocket of turbulence and find nothing to grip.

From that weightless hush he studied the outpost wall. The watch-fire in the nearest tower flared and guttered, starved of oil. Two sentries leaned on spears, drowsy, leaving a ten-yard gap where vigilance should have overlapped.

Father was right: they run their northern bastions on reputation and prayers, trusting the Gens Cornelia to bleed in their stead.

Sabinus vaulted, boots barely scuffing the stone, and flowed down the far side, landing among the barracks.

At ground level he ghosted between supply sheds until muffled laughter drew him to a half-open barracks door. Lantern glow illuminated the scene.

Four soldiers lounged, wine gurgling from skin to mouth. The tallest raised a sea-blue music-box.

“Look at this frilly rubbish. My wife thinks I’m lonely out here. Maybe I should lull the undead to sleep with it, eh?” They barked out drunken laughter.

One mailed fist crushed the winding key: crunch.

The tinkling tune died on a strangled note, and the men roared again

A shard of that note lodged under Sabinus’s ribs. His mother had kept a box exactly like that one, painted dusk-blue, spirals of tiny constellations on the lid. Father burned it the winter she died. Sabinus remembered the smell of lacquer in the hearth, the hollow place in his chest afterward.

The soldiers drifted to the dice circle. Sabinus cancelled Veil for a heartbeat—hearing the soft pop of pressure equalising—picked up the box, and turned the ruined crank. Teeth slipped; only three crystalline notes escaped before the mechanism clicked hopelessly. Still, the box tried to sing.

He tucked it inside his cloak.

Keeping the Veil half-active, he moved. Mess hall: only two cold braziers. Armoury: racks of pikes left unwiped, orange rust bleeding at the rivets. Sabinus etched the negligence into memory for his father’s report.

Through an open window he landed in the inner yard, crouched on a barrel lid, and scanned. The rose trellis by the armory hung with desiccated blooms, but one late bud glowed peach-gold in lamplight, stubbornly alive.

Sabinus reached gently, cancelling his Veil long enough for Light mana to flow from fingertips into stem and sepal. The bud unfurled a fraction and its color deepened. He smiled, snapped the thornless stem, and slid it into a glass vial he had on him.

Hoofbeats beyond the main gate—patrol returning hours early, half-strength. Another column in the ledger of failings. He retreated through shadows, flicking Veil to full invisibility whenever torch cones neared.

Near the stables two lieutenants argued over missing payroll. One cursed the Gens Cornelia's penny-pinching; the other said, “Let the north wall fall—they’ll blame Drusus anyway.” Sabinus’s mouth tightened.

He couldn't do anything to these man. His stealth was so powerful that not even they could notice him, but that didn't meant he was as strong as them.

One day, you'll meet justice at my hands, Sabinus thought, feeling his heart rage. Not just Aurelianus. All of you bastards.

He soon returned to his horse, satisfied with the information he had just gathered.

Sabinus touched the glass vial, then the music box, before riding. He let himself smile at the two fragile things.

He would bring them to Lily

*

Lavinia left the dining-etiquette hall in a daze.

The tutor’s voice still rang in her head—hold the spoon this way, turn the wrist that way—but the words meant nothing. Her thoughts were flat, like a page scraped clean.

She did not plan where to walk; her feet drifted through a side corridor and out into the unused forge behind the barracks.

No fires burned here tonight.

Cold ash lay in the hearth, and iron smell clung to the beams.

She paused on the threshold, unsure why she had come, but a shape on the ground snagged her eye. A sword rested in the dust, half hidden under a loose board. It was not stored on a rack or wrapped in oiled cloth.

Someone had dropped it and never cared to pick it up.

Before Lavinia knew it, she was kneeling.

Her hand closed around the hilt.

The grip felt wrong: the leather had never been fully rolled around the hilt. She tested the edge with her thumb. Dull as a kitchen spoon. A quick breath slipped from her chest, and she looked around as if waiting for a shout of warning. No one came.

The forge bench still held a whetstone block, though a long crack split it down the center.

She set the blade across the stone and drew it back, slow and careful. Metal rasped. She didn't know why she was even bothering with this—it was clear that neither the whetstone nor the sword were any good. Plus, she had abandoned the hopes and dreams of ever becoming a [Templar], even after Lily's speech at her father's wedding.

Gray dust sprinkled the bench. She expected the edge to brighten, yet when she touched it again the steel had grown flatter. She frowned, but something made her keep going.

Back and forth, back and forth—the rhythm settled into her shoulders. Sparks never flew. Only dry scraping filled the quiet air. Her mind stayed blank, yet her arm moved faster, more nervous. Each pass shaved more steel from the edge. Soon a fine lip of burr curled along the sword’s length, dulling it further.

Why am I doing this?

The question rose and sank without an answer. She only pressed harder, as if effort alone could force the metal sharp. The cracked stone jerked; the blade slide caught, and a louder grind made her wince. She lifted the sword and stared. Chips dotted the edge where the break in the stone had bitten it.

She swallowed hard because the weapon was worse than when she found it—useless, almost ruined.

A quick tremor ran through her hand.

Father would sneer at such clumsy work.

Livia would sigh and call it proof that Lavinia was not a proper lady since she had bothered entering a forge—not the place for a lady.

The tutor would scold her for even touching forge tools.

Shame bubbled in her throat.

She looked left and right.

Still no one watched, yet someone would come eventually.

Across the forge lay a heap of straw used for packing crates. Lavinia walked to it, sword hidden against her skirt, and crouched.

She slid the blade deep under the straw until only the cracked hilt showed. A toss of loose stalks covered that, too.

She stood, brushed hay from her palms, and backed away.

The whetstone sat on the bench, broken open like a split bone. Grey filings dusted the surface, the mark of wasted work. Lavinia wiped the filings with her sleeve, though the streak left a darker smear on the cloth.

She sniffed once, swallowed again, and turned toward the courtyard lights.

Her shoes tapped softly on the stone floor as she walked out.

As she left, she felt like she was abandoning the sword forever, as if she would never return to it, fully accepting her destiny.

Even so, her sleeve still carried the rasping scent of ground steel as she slipped inside the lamplit corridor and closed the door softly behind her.

She looked around and brought the sleeve close to her nose, inhaling deeply, and feeling tears slipping from her eyes.

*

Decima carried a stack of fresh linens down the west gallery, but her mind was fixed on the conversation she had heard through the study door that morning. Adriana had paced, voice tight, speaking of Lily’s need for the Great Skill—the legacy of Gens Claudia that no woman had ever mastered. The words still echoed.

“Without that skill, she will enter the Trial at a great disadvantage.”

Decima had served the family since she was fifteen. She had watched Lily grow from loud toddler to fearless girl, and she had watched Adriana shoulder plans too heavy for any one soul. Decima wanted to help, yet every path felt barred. She had no title, no sword arm, no gift for magic or anything. What could a house attendant do?

She reached the linen closet and stowed the last sheet, then lingered with her fingers resting on the shelf edge.

Decima closed her eyes, searching for an answer. Instead she remembered being trained as an attendant while standing beside a young Adriana on winter nights while the Princess—still only a girl—trained late. Adriana had always pushed past everything, even most rules that stopped women from wielding power.

Now Adriana needed a rule broken for Lily, and Decima could not sit idle after following her into the Gens Claudia.

Footsteps scraped the floor. Old Maresa rounded the far corner, slow but steady. Her back bent more each year, yet her eyes stayed sharp, brown and bright behind deep lines. She had served this house since Lucianus himself was a boy. She had served as a humble maid for both his Lucianus's father and his grandfather. Lucianus himself had offered to promote her in charge of the house, but Maresa had never showed any interest in that. Still, Lucianus had her attend himself personally, trusting her more than anybody else in the house.

“Lost in thought again, child?” Maresa asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Decima managed a smile. “Only trying to remember where the tall candles for the chapel are stored.”

“A good lie,” Maresa murmured, stopping beside her. “But lies sit heavy on the shoulders.”

The elder woman’s gaze seemed to sift through Decima’s worry. She reached into the folds of her gray apron and drew out a small iron key, thin as a hairpin, its head shaped like a half-moon.

“Your heart is in the right place,” Maresa said, pressing the key into Decima’s palm. “Use this before doubt steals your chance.”

Decima blinked. “What's this? What does it open?”

“A room beneath the watchtower around the edge of the estate. It must be dropped on the ground. There, there are tomes. Books. It's a library, child."

Decima’s pulse jumped. “Does Adriana know of it?”

Maresa shook her head. “A secret has use only when shared at the right hour. That hour is now. I have served three generations, and I can feel the house straining under its own silences.”

"Maresa, how did you know what I was thinking?"

"Those with combat Classes often forget what we can do. I'm a [Nurturer], Decima. I don't think even young mistress Lily can read your thoughts like I can. Not yet, at least. Now, bring this to your lady. She'll need it to level up her new Class."

"What new Class?" Decima frowned.

Maresa laughed and shook her head, not deigning her of an answer.

"No one goes there anyway and Lucianus has reinforced it with many stealth spells. Without this key… it's basically impossible to access it."

Decima closed her fingers over the key. It felt warm, as though it had waited in Maresa’s apron for years.

“What is down there?”

“Ledgers, journals, and scrolls marked with the Gens Claudia's seals. Things I never dared read.” The old maid’s voice dropped. “Some speak of the knowledge your mistress seeks.”

"Maresa, I… why don't you give Lady Adriana this yourself?"

"The Princess has no use for an old crone," Maresa winked at Decima. "The world is for youngsters like you. Now, go. She can keep the key. I lost it by accident many years ago and Lucianus had to make a copy."

*

Vespera saw Lily enter the courtyard with bags under her eyes and a bloodshot set of corneas.

What has she been up to? The white-haired girl wondered. Whatever it is, it doesn't matter. Mother wants me to teach her a lesson, to break her.

Lily settled in front of her and smiled.

"Ready to lose?" The blonde asked.

"Awfully smug for someone who had to go to bed early after almost crippling herself," Vespera snapped.

The girl was always surprised at how Lily could push her buttons and make her lose her calm just like that.

She's just too unaware of the world, of her own circumstances, of how hard we've been training to get a chance at living free.

Vespera watched Lily halt at the center circle, red-rimmed eyes and a half-smile that said she feared nothing. The sight tightened something deep in Vespera’s chest. She set the butt of her spear down hard.

“You look tired,” she said, letting her voice carry across the yard. “Training too late? Or crying because you finally know your place?”

Lily rolled one shoulder. “Didn’t know my place was ahead of you. Thanks for clearing that up.”

Heat flared in Vespera’s cheeks. That girl… always joking like the rules did not apply. Vespera tipped her chin toward Selena, who sat on the low wall sharpening a dagger. Selena smirked but stayed quiet—she had already learned how sharp Lily’s tongue could be.

Calpurnia stood near the porch, arms folded. “This is a drill,” she said, voice calm. “Mind your limits.”

Mother is telling me not to kill her—Lily probably thinks she's just saying to stay composed.

“I know my limits,” Vespera answered, staring at Lily, “and they sit far higher than hers.”

Lily raised her brows, still smiling. “Show me.”

Vespera spun her spear once, let Balance mana surge from heel to wrist, and felt the world narrow to a crisp line. One clean thrust would bruise Lily’s ribs deep, maybe crack bone—pain enough to make her respect the spear.

Calpurnia’s hand chopped the air. “Begin.”

Vespera shot forward. Dirt sprayed. The spear point streaked for Lily’s side—

—but Lily slipped past, smooth as mist. Vespera felt nothing but cool air brush her knuckles. She snapped the haft across, barely in time. Lily’s fist met the wood with a crack that stung Vespera’s palms and flung her backward. Her boots ripped twin tracks through the yard before she stopped.

Dust settled around her ankles. Lily lowered her hand and brushed grit from her sleeve.

“That’s one,” Lily said, quiet but clear. "I haven't like your tone so far. This is going to be a lesson in manners."

Chapter 37

Vespera blinked, heartbeat thick in her ears. Behind her, Selena sat frozen, whetstone idle. Calpurnia’s brows had risen a hair, nothing more, yet Vespera felt the change in the air.

She tightened her grip on the spear. Lily’s smile was gone now, replaced by steady eyes.

"What are you waiting for? I'm right here," Lily said, widening her stance.

Vespera noticed a spark of Mana around Lily's eyes and frowned.

But before she could question whatever she saw, the girl had dashed toward her.

Calpurnia waited on the stone flagstones at the edge of the courtyard with her arms folded and her eyes fixed on Lily and Vespera.

Morning light streamed across the earth, turning dust motes from the duel into drifting gold.

She was equally tense and worried. Part of her felt her pride wounded.

It was a mix of contrasting sensations.

On the one hand, seeing Lily become so strong in such a short amount of time was exactly what Calpurnia wanted. Not one woman after Adriana had showed the talent needed to aspire to become a Champion—one that could have a shot at the Papacy. Calpurnia suspected that if Lily had actually trained during all these years, she might have surpassed even her mother in sheer power.

And to this day, not even Flavia, the strongest of the triplet, equalled Adriana's power. Truthfully, as far as Calpurnia knew, only one person had showed more talent than the famed Princess: Cassius, Pope Ennius's firstborn.

Lily hasn't showed that level of power, but her healing…

Calpurnia had never seen anything like it. She was surprised no one tried investigating more where Lily's insane healing power came from.

Now, if Lily failed today, she would lose more than a sparring match. She would lose a chance to prove that women could be as strong as men—no, stronger—in this world.

Selena sat beside her, silent but alert.

Calpurnia could feel her daughter’s fidgeting by her side.

Selena was the most hopeful of the women in their family. Even though she was the weakest of her daughters, the one with the least talent and the one with the roughest character, she was the dreamy one. She was the one who believed that Lily could actually make it to the Champion's Trial and win.

Selena believed in Lily. That belief did more to steady Calpurnia’s heart than any promise she had made. Still, Calpurnia would not relax until Lily finished what she had begun.

Part of Calpurnia really wished that Lily could pull off a miracle today; then again against Sextus; then again at the Trial; and then again until the Papacy would be fully changed.

Vespera stood opposite Lily with her spear aimed at the blonde.

Calpurnia sensed her daughter’s steady breath as if it echoed her own. Vespera did not hate Lily. She tested Lily because Calpurnia had asked her to. But she also loathed part of the girl's behavior because they way Lily behaved was… unacceptable. Unacceptable in the very sense of the word. No one in society would accept a woman behaving like Lily, talking to the Patriarch of one of the Great Families like the blonde had already done. Yet, Lily didn't care. She did whatever she wanted. And part of that, despite being exactly what Calpurnia wished for her daughters, irked all of them but Selena.

If Lily could stand here and win, then maybe she could stand facing Sextus next.

Calpurnia watched Lily set her feet wide. She saw how Lily’s shoulders squared, how her jaw stiffened.

She has never trained from what I know. I wonder what kind of divine talent, what kind of Perk, perhaps, made her like this.

Lily fought like someone who had spent their entire life engaged in the art of fighting, not like a lazy girl that had neglected their training up until now.

“When you circle, your shoulder binds, and the spear drags. I can feel the weight gather there," Lily pointed at Vespera with a smug smile. "I see you. I see all your openings."

“If you truly feel that drag and can strike me through it, I shall kneel in full respect. If you fail, you will set aside your challenge to Sextus and train another year before you even dare speak to me like this.”

While they reset positions Calpurnia murmured in a voice low enough for only herself. “Adriana could control Mana like nobody, yet this girl seems to have such an incredible [Mana Sense], like I've never seen before. Not even in Cassius.”

She folded her arms harder as another thought took her.

“Yet to weave Coniunctionis with that reach during combat should grind bones into dust.”

Selena replied while she watched Lily settle her feet. “Mother, she tears and mends faster than we can follow. Her healing is too powerful."

“Resume fighting,” Calpurnia said sternly, feeling the need for Lily to be humiliated.

Her voice carried across the yard, firm and without doubt.

Vespera sprang forward as her spear thrust in a straight line that should have split Lily’s ribs.

Calpurnia’s heart jumped because Lily shifted on her toes so that she slid back just enough for Vespera’s spearhead to skim past her shoulder.

Calpurnia felt a thrill because Lily had seen the gap. The middle-aged woman realized that Lily had sensed the drag in Vespera’s shoulder before the strike. Yet, she admired how calm her daughter remained after her spear had missed.

Lily’s palm met the spear. Calpurnia heard wood scrape Lily’s sleeve and then saw a fine crack blossom where Lily’s Coniunctionis pulsed through her arm. As the shaft groaned, Vespera twisted free before the blow could lodge.

The first exchange ended in a wash of dust.

Calpurnia finally remembered to breathe. She turned her head to Selena and saw Selena give a slight shake. Neither of them spoke because speaking now would break the spell.

Vespera adjusted her grip.

She squeezed the haft with both hands so that Coniunctionis forced through her boots and into the spearhead. Lily braced herself while Calpurnia felt Lily’s pulse deepen because a second strike slammed down.

That second crack rang sharper than the first.

Calpurnia’s breath caught when she saw the shaft bend near the center, and Vespera recoiled in surprise.

Lily’s jaw clenched as Calpurnia noticed the rush of Mana flare in Lily’s eyes like a lantern lighting. Before Lily could follow, Vespera spun and used the spear’s momentum to avoid the next blow.

Calpurnia tensed because she had thought Lily might shatter the spear right there. Instead, Vespera slipped free. The shaft hissed as hairline cracks spread along its length, yet it did not break.

Calpurnia used her own [Mana Sense] to see that Lily's ribs had been partially torn by the continuous use of Coniunctionis that the girl was doing. She had not turned it off for one second. While Vespera used it in bursts, Lily had seemingly not stopped using it since their first exchange, which meant that not only Lily's mastery over the Martial Art had grown beyond the woman's wildest imaginations, but that the girl was already capable of modulating the output of power of the Skill, something that only Flavia among her three daughters was capable of.

Yet, she saw Lily’s Light Magic continuously her muscles so that they held together. Calpurnia’s heart ached because seeing that strain made

“Her frame… it should buckle,” escape her lips in a whisper, but Lily remained upright.

The third exchange began before Calpurnia could think. Because Vespera lurched forward in a burst of speed, she drove the spear in three fast jabs, each with enough force to shatter flesh and bone.

Calpurnia held her breath while Lily saw the jabs converge on her center and twisted her torso backward. When Lily’s left foot pivoted, her right palm struck the spear just above Vespera’s gauntlet.

Calpurnia saw the blow travel from Lily’s chest along her arm and into her palm. The spear shuddered as cracks fanned out like spider legs from the point where Lily’s hand pressed. Splinters flew and Vespera yanked back. After another half-second—enough time for Calpurnia to notice a drop of sweat on Lily’s temple—the shaft split.

Vespera backed away while holding the broken spear as if it weighed nothing.

This time, Lily's Coniunctionis flared with so much Mana that Calpurnia felt her jaw seize.

How can she support that much energy in her body?

Lily's legs and back muscles snapped her back in an unnatural motion that projected her right upon Vespera. Lily threw a punch so fast that Calpurnia was sure her daughter could have not seen it coming.

Is she trying to—

No, Lily wasn't trying to kill Vespera.

The punch stopped an hairline from Vespera's throat.

The white-haired girl, immediately understanding what had just happened, sank to one knee while holding the broken wood in both hands. Dust floated around Vespera and Lily as it settled on each shattered splinter.

Lily stepped forward with her arms open, and Calpurnia’s chest tightened because if Lily had killed Vespera, Calpurnia did not know what she would have done next. Instead, Lily lifted Vespera with gentle strength. Calpurnia felt a sudden wash of relief because Vespera remained on her knees with head bowed while Lily released her hand.

A breeze stirred, and Calpurnia heard a faint rustle as she looked up. Because rose petals drifted from the east, they floated like slow red snow, they landed among the wood shards and Lily’s sandals.

Silence stretched before Calpurnia spoke. She stepped forward, and Vespera rose while holding a spear fragment in one hand and meeting Calpurnia’s gaze. Calpurnia saw respect there, honest and unguarded.

“You have proven yourself,” Calpurnia said with a voice that held both pride and a sting of worry. “Because you read Vespera’s movement you struck true. Yet you draw Coniunctionis with a strength that should shatter even tempered steel and break your own bones in turn. Why do you stand now?”

Lily’s chest rose and fell as she set her jaw again. Calpurnia watched how Lily’s fingers curled whenever Coniunctionis seeped from her skin so that Calpurnia could almost see the threads, shining white, knitting Lily’s bones.

“I heal,” Lily said. “I heal faster than it breaks.”

Calpurnia studied Lily’s arms. She saw faint bruises along muscle that should have shattered. Because those bruises glowed with a faint luminescence, Calpurnia felt her throat tighten.

“Your healing… it is a gift, but if you keep this path you risk your own life. Sextus’s duel will be harder. Do you trust that healing to hold against him?”

Lily nodded.

"I shall win, Aunt Calpurnia."

"He will try and cripple you, Lily," Calpurnia warned her.

"I shall cripple him, then," Lily smiled.

Calpurnia nodded once and felt the weight in her chest lift a little.

“You surprise us all, but you must understand that when you face Sextus the stakes will be higher than you realize. You face his father’s reputation and the Gens Cornelia’s pride. If he loses, a large chunk of our house loses.”

"I understand."

Selena slipped closer to Lily’s side and touched Lily’s shoulder.

“Enough talk, then,” Calpurnia said as she lifted her chin. “Go rest. You must be almost out of Mana for today. You're forgiven for how you spoke to me. We resume at dawn, so go rest. I will take care of the next steps of your training myself.”

Chapter 38

Lily crossed the threshold of her house first.

She had come back to the Gens Claudia's estate one day before the fight.

Calpurnia had offered to stay with them until the duel so they could refine her techniques, but Lily had wanted to talk to her mother.

She was still in awe of how that conversation had gone.

A Day Before

Adriana did not look like her usual self, Lily thought.

The blonde woman's make-up was light and barely there, unlike her usual pristine appearance. Her reddened eyes were almost unblinking.

Lily had sent word of the duel, but she had not received any confirmation from her mother nor a comment on the matter.

Today, as Lily was showed into the mess hall by a servant, Adriana nodded at her.

"Are you ready?"

Those were the first words that Adriana decided to speak.

"I am."

"Your grandmother warned me that the boy wants to cripple you. "

"I know," Lily replied.

Adriana's fist curled into a tight ball onto the table as the servants made themselves scarce, excluding for Decima. Her aura burst forth and made the cutlery on the long table tremble like a small earthquake would have. Everyone looked scared of the lady of the Gens Claudia except for Decima.

In fact, Lily noticed that the usually shy Decima now stood behind Adriana with much more confidence than she had ever seen on the woman.

"I want you to win," the blonde woman said.

"I will."

"Not by a small margin, Lily," Adriana said between her teeth.

"It won't be," Lily said, planting her eyes on her mother.

"He has Attributes and Class Skills. He doesn't have many Levels, but he's still significantly stronger than you'd imagine."

Lily looked down at the thick slab of stone that made the table and then at her mother.

"Mom, can you—"

Adriana immediately covered them with a thick, dense [Light Shield] that made them invisible and impossible to hear from the outside.

Lily noticed that Decima had been included in it and she raised an eyebrow.

"Decima gave me what I need to make sure you can learn the Great Skill of the Gens Claudia," Adriana spoke with purpose in her words. "She's with us."

Lily felt those words in her bone and nodded, raising a hand and releasing a strong pulse of Darkness.

Adriana raised an eyebrow and then shrugged.

"So?"

The Darkness suddenly sank into Lily's skin, which started glowing faintly, with small sparks rotating around her arm.

Lily widened her feet and suddenly chopped at the table.

Adriana's eyes widened as the, perhaps one foot wide, split into two.

But more impressive, Lily's hand looked barely broken, with snapping sounds indicating that her daughter was already mending it on the spot.

Her healing, too, has progressed. And such a strike… I wouldn't expect it from a Level 20 Warrior. Maybe from someone who maxed their Strength Attribute for their Level, but they'd cripple themselves each time they moved…

"Hurt him," Adriana said. "Hurt him publicly. We're done hiding. We're close to making your claim untouchable, Lily. Do your worst."

Lily's barefoot soles tapped on pale marble as she reached the exit of the main building in the Gens Claudia's estate.

Before she could go to the courtyard where a small arena had been built for the occasion, she heard the sound of trotting and looked up.

Sabinus vaulted from his horse and landed right in front of her. He stopped beside one of the two large pillars framing the threshold of the house.

Lily kept her gaze on the far end of the passage where sunlight made a narrow gold ribbon on the floor. Then, she looked at his fox-like face, at the olive skin, at the smoky green eyes and frowned. The green trim on his cloak had been brushed free of travel dust, yet the cloak still hung crooked because a saddlebag rested on one shoulder. His usual calm held, though his voice strained against urgency.

“Lily, listen. I have ridden through the night. You still have a choice. Let the challenge lapse; no one will call you craven while your bones knit. Delay one month and Sextus loses the Cornelius backing for the Trial.”

She kept her gaze on the far end of the passage where sunlight made a narrow gold ribbon on the floor.

"I'm almost done with my training with Calpurnia," Lily said. "We can start ours after this."

Sabinus turned the saddlebag so that the leather creaked. From its depths he drew the dusk-blue music box that he had rescued from the neglected outpost wall. He set it on the stone ledge between them, then he laid one single peach-gold rose beside it. The bloom’s color echoed the powdery sunrise that hung over the estate.

She closed the box, letting her palm rest on the lid.

"Beautiful, hold it for me until after the match."

"Lily, please, let me handle Sextus,” Sabinus frowned. "I promise, I—"

"A loser thinking like a loser."

Both Lily and Sabinus turned to the incoming voice.

A leather boot clicked against the floor.

Lucretia Iulia walked into the corridor, her red braid swinging behind her. She wore a calm, smug smile, the kind that always meant trouble.

“A loser thinking like a loser,” she said again, brushing a speck of dust off her sleeve. “You rode all night just to beg for a girl who was never yours to protect.”

Sabinus didn’t answer right away. His jaw tightened.

Lily’s eyes narrowed, and she opened her mouth to respond—but then stopped.

Because someone else was approaching.

The air in the corridor shifted, like something important had entered. The shadows pulled back, and the sound of boots on the stone became softer, more even.

Cassius stepped into the light.

He didn’t wear armor. He didn’t need to. The long gray coat he wore fell straight over his shoulders and fastened with a single, shining clasp. Every part of him looked clean, exact, and sharp. His white hair looked like snow that had been brushed into perfect shape. His skin was pale, his eyes a pale silver-blue. His face had smooth, almost delicate features, but somehow he still looked more powerful than anyone else in the corridor. There was something quiet and serious about him that made everyone go still. Even Lucretia.

Cassius didn’t glance at Sabinus.

He looked at Lily first.

“Cousin,” he said calmly. His voice wasn’t loud, but it carried through the corridor all the same. “You look ready.”

Lily straightened. “I am.”

“His Holiness wants the match to go forward,” Cassius said.

"His Holiness?" Lily's eyes widened. "Uncle Ennius's here?"

Lucretia scoffed and crossed her arms, but she didn’t speak.

Cassius nodded.

"Cousin, we shall have a word after this sparring. I—"

"You should teach her some manners," Lucretias snickered. "This little upstart has made some offending remarks. We should just throw her in jail."

Lily felt her arms tremble but she knew that Lucretia would only like if she lost her cool.

"We're family, Lucretia," Cassius said sternly, bringing a white lock behind his ear.

Finally, Lily saw Lumius slowly walking up the stairs of the villa and stopping a few paces behind his other siblings. He stared Lily down, which made her walk past Sabinus and her two cousins to stand in front of him.

"You will marry Lavinia over my dead body," Lily said with a smile.

"I'll make sure to relay my condolences to Aunt Adriana," Lumius shot back, releasing his aura.

Lumius, like Lily, hadn't gotten a Class yet, but Lily felt a scorching heat coming from the teenager's body and licks of white flame enveloping his frame.

Lily started widening her feet when she felt a hand on her shoulder before she could even realize someone had approached.

"Stop."

Lily turned to look at Cassius.

However, Sabinus had suddenly appeared behind Lumius and tapped his head with a finger.

"Little boy, why don't you go? Lily has a match to get to. You two will surely have time to square out at some point."

"Sabinus, remove your hand from my brother," Cassius's voice rang clear as a crystal.

"Or what?" Sabinus said coldly.

"All of you, stop," everyone turned to look at Adriana.

"Aunt, I—" Cassius started.

"I told you to fetch my daughter," Adriana said in a displeased tone. "Why are you all starting fights? Sabinus Cornelius, remove yourself from here and join the spectators."

Sabinus obliged but before shot a long look to Cassius and walked toward Lily, taking out another box.

"These were tailored to you," he said.

Lily opened the box to find two white gauntlets.

They were simple at first glance—white leather reinforced with faintly shimmering plates, no spikes, no jewels, no sigils for display. But as Lily lifted them, she felt them being imbued of Mana.

"The Gens Cornelia's still got the best [Blacksmiths] on retinue despite our struggles," Sabinus smiled at everyone. "It's a simple durability enchantments. They should take swords and blades with no problems unless they're swung by someone above Level 50."

“Mana-conductive,” Sabinus said, getting close to Lily's ear, speaking low so only she could hear. “They won’t numb your control like normal steel would when dealing with Mana. They have been attuned to your… needs."

*

There was a chorus of trumpets that lengthened into a single clarion note that rattled dust from the rafters. Porters threw wide the eastern gate. A surge of hot daylight flooded the pit, and in that blaze strode Pope Ennius.

He wore a robe of white wool that glimmered in the daylight.

The robe flowed to the marble in an unbroken line, and three subordinate heralds kept its hem from dust by carrying it on silver rods. Behind him marched his children—Cassius first in slate-gray battle cloth, Lucretia beside him with copper-red hair braided so tightly that her scalp shone, and Lumius in a dark gray mantle.

Every spectator rose.

Publius and Leontina seemed ready to fawn over the Pope and get his favor, but the man walked toward the main seat, which was reserved for the head of the house, which was provisorily Adriana, and smiled at his sister when he stood at her right.

"It feels like we're young again, sister, doesn't it?"

Ennius referred to when Adriana had not been married off yet and, theoretically, had still been the heir.

Ennius raised a hand toward the audience allowed the hush to swell until the air seemed too thin for breath. Then he inclined his head toward Adriana with the exact measure owed to a fallen princess.

Cassius followed with a respectful deep bow to his aunt. Lucretia’s bow barely reached the midpoint between arrogance and etiquette, and Lumius tried to mimic his brother yet stopped halfway when his gaze caught Lily standing alone on the sand.

Pope Ennius folded his hands behind his back.

“We will witness,” he said. The tone carried no ornament. “The new generation shall sharpen each other. Let the Blood see whether merit lives where rumor places it.”

He turned, climbed a single step, and seated himself. Cassius took the position at his left, and Lumius Lucretia below him.

The three siblings watched Lily with three very different sets of eyes: Cassius measured, Lucretia hungry, Lumius spiteful.

The crowd exhaled as one. Coins clicked again. Bets were being placed.

All these people had gathered to see Lily be humiliated. Adriana had received so many spectating requests that she had to build a small arena on the premises.

“Ten silver on Sextus,” someone called.

“I’ll double that,” a tall noble barked. “That girl barely has flesh on her bones. She’s going to snap like twine under his first strike.”

“Have you seen her wrists?” a merchant’s son near the back laughed. “You could carve a roast with them. What’s she going to do, beg for mercy mid-fight?”

“She won’t last ten exchanges.”

“Ten? She won’t last two.”

“Forget ten exchanges. That Sextus brat got his Class two months ago—he’s been training with the Cornelius weaponsmaster daily. She’s probably been playing with flowers and reading poetry.”

A younger noble squinted down at the white gauntlets Lily wore. “Are those custom-made? A shame. They’ll probably be the only things left of her after Sextus is done.”

“I hope they brought good [Healers]. She'll need them.”

"Does anyone have the speech she gave at the Gens Aemilia's party written down?" Someone sneered.

Right when he said that, a tall girl with a red full of hair, dressed in a gown and holding a small parasol walked on the stands.

Adriana raised an eyebrow and said nothing.

Lily, who had been stone-cold up to that moment, turned to look at the girl.

"Lavinia," Lily said, feeling her eyes getting humid.

Lavinia lowered her gaze as Livia soon followed the girl, her jaw so tight it looked it might snap at any moment.

Lavinia watch me, Lily thought, not moving her eyes from her friend, catching a glimpse of Lavinia's gaze shooting at her. Watch this. Never forget what you can be.

Sextus emerged from the western tunnel a moment later. When he saw Ennius, surprise flickered yet gave way to chilled resolve. He snapped on the gauntlets with sharp twists and knelt to acknowledge the Pontiff’s presence. Ennius lifted one eyebrow, then turned that same mild regard upon Lily.

She didn't turn toward the Pope and stood straight as an arrow.

A man in charge of referreeing, selected by Adriana,

The magistrate walked to the edge of the arena.

“By writ of Lucianus Claudia, head of this house, and under the direct witness of His Holiness, the duel proceeds. Terms: submission or incapacitation. No lethal strike permitted. Begin when the gong sounds.”

The referree took out a long mallet and a page heaved the bronze disc from its cradle.

The first clang rolled up the benches, and dust quivered in golden beams.

Heartbeat one.

Sextus shifted weight to the balls of his feet, and his shadow sliced across the circle.

Heartbeat two.

Crowd voices whispered. Cassius narrowed his gaze, reading telltales in Sextus’s posture. Lucretia rested fingers on her hip as if itching for a wager. Lumius pressed lips together.

Heartbeat three.

Sextus sprang. Lily answered. Sand sprayed. The duel began.

And Pope Ennius, who seldom smiled in public, allowed the barest curve of interest to touch the corner of his mouth as the sunlit pit lit with the clash.