Anwen, Ivan, Rohan, Manisha and Ilias had all been transferred to another much larger room by the men serving under Kaito, joining the rest of the Serenity’s crew. It was just as drab in atmosphere, alleviated only slightly by decent electrical lighting. The ground below their feet was floorboards, a slight upgrade from the thin straw over rough stone they had laid on for a night.

  “I hope this goes to plan,” Anwen said, as she sat shoulder-to-shoulder with Ivan on one side and Manisha on the other, their wrists tied together in front of them as were everyone else’s. “This isn’t going to be something Stefan’s going to like.”

  “You act like he has to kill the guy,” Ivan said, a slight chuckle to his voice. Despite being the mature one of the Black Shield trio and the one to always provide humorous relief in tense situations, the man felt anxious deep under the surface. “All he has to do is poke him with the sharp side of his sword and that’s our signal. Kaito’s guys invade the field, kill that bastard, and we’re golden.”

  Anwen ignored his reassurance, hugging her knees to her chest and turning her head slightly away from him.

  “Ya got such little faith in that boy, Anwen,” Manisha nudged the girl’s shoulder. “Y’all managed to get all the way down to Chitran without havin’ ta kill someone, didn’t y’all? I know Gareth taught him well. Even if you might not believe in Stefan, believe in the wisdom of your father.”

  Anwen smiled slightly in response. Gareth had gone 10 years without having had to take a life. She was certain Gareth ingrained that discipline into her dear cousin and hoped that he’d remember it.

  Meanwhile, in the Iwasoto Grand Arena, the sack was taken off the large man’s head, revealing Stefan’s grim face under a Shimajimese helmet. He stared the Shogun down, who responded with a genuinely eager chuckle.

  “Valorous luck, Mr Laine. This shall beest a combat to rememb'r.” he cried towards the other end of the field where Stefan stood. Each man was given his own sword. As soon as Stefan’s found itself in his hands, an aura began to immediately emanate from it—the Reserve of the Utrium-carved blade. Though, he did not intend to use it as it was made for.

  A piercing trumpet sounded through the air, and the arena erupted with cheers and applause. The collective applause was so great that the ground below Stefan’s feet vibrated ever so slightly. He was nervous but he dared not let it show on his face or in his stance.

  “Banzai!” Daisuke cried, rushing to the middle of the field. Stefan matched his opponent’s energy, but without a battle cry of his own as he reached the centre mere moments after the Shogun. The two circled one another. Stefan knew the Shogun would strike first and read the man’s stance, predicting the trajectory his blade would move in.

  His blade sliced downward with force and great speed, something that reminded Stefan of the skill and precision of some of the higher-ranking soldiers who fought at the Battle of Shargara. This man was no amateur. Stefan used one hand to give the appearance that he would parry the blow while using his other to form a Level 15 Barrier in the blink of an eye. The recoil of the Shogun’s masterfully crafted sword bouncing caused the Shogun to stagger back. Underneath his helmet, the man smirked.

  “Thee won't square backeth?” Daisuke scoffed, his voice reflective of the pride he had in himself.

  Stefan said nothing, his gaze piercing the Shogun as he deflected another quick strike, this time with his sword.

  He is leagues below you, Grandson! He thinks you’re playing with him, and he enjoys the game. End this now! This Terran mouse isn’t worth your time!

  Like hell I’d listen to you! Stefan hit back as Daisuke advanced again, his strikes showing no sign of slowing down—a horizontal slash aimed at Stefan’s chest, a feint that was followed by a ferocious upward thrust which grazed Stefan’s armor, only to be thrown off course by a Level 15 Barrier, not like it would pierce through the boy’s armor either way.

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  “Thee bethink this is mercy?” the Shogun cried as frustration started to spill out of the cracks, his strikes becoming more feral. “’r is t pride?”

  As the one-sided fight continued in the arena, worry grew among those kept within the dungeon. Kaito’s men remained as they were, and there was no sign of them being told to move out.

  “What’s taking so long?” Rohan wondered as his legs began to go numb from the sitting. “That signal should’ve been given a while ago. Ivan, got any idea what’s going on?”

  “The nerves are probably getting to the kid. I mean, there’s a hundred thousand eyes on him at the very least. Can’t blame him for wanting to take his time.” Ivan said, although truly it was more wishful thinking than a genuine guess.

  “No,” Anwen interjected. “He doesn’t want to fight at all. Even if it was only him and the Shogun in a private place, he still wouldn’t want to swing a sword at him. You don’t know him like I do, Ivan.”

  Before Ivan could think of a snarky comeback to relieve his tension, the door into the cell swung open widely. More armed Shimajimese men entered, with one taking the lead.

  “Gentlemen,” he spoke. “Your services are required elsewhere. We will take over your station.”

  Kaito’s men looked at one another, having no recollection of an order for a position change.

  “By the order of His Excellency Daisuke-dono, you are to leave these premises immediately!” the leader of the new guards barked. That extinguished any doubt Kaito’s men had. None of them dared face the wrath of the Shogun when he was still in power, and even if their intentions were still unknown to the Shogun’s circle, they filed out without a fight.

  “W-Wait… Anwen, what the hell’s happening? This wasn’t part of the plan!” Ivan cried, gazing at the girl with a troubled look.

  “I-I don’t know, I don’t even think Kaito’s men know! They’re being switched out with other soldiers… I don’t know why!”

  “Oh God,” Ivan let his head drop forward. “Did the Shogun see this happening beforehand?”

  The new guards brought with them the usual gun and sword but also other equipment, none of which seemed useful for keeping their prisoners inside the cell. Bright spotlights were plugged into walls, as were microphones. One guard brought a device that resembled the ones the journalists in Shargara wielded on the day of the conference—a kamera.

  Stefan switched between blocking the Shogun’s hits with Barriers and parrying them with his sword. He only allowed for his armored body to be grazed at the most. The Utrium in Stefan’s armor sung in protest but never faltered. His eyes were steady, his breathing measured even as the Shogun poured his fury into ever swing.

  We do not play with our food for extended periods. Use your power, the power of your true people, and cut this ape down! It takes but one strike, my grandson!

  Daisuke swung, his sword whistling through the air in a powerful arc aimed for Stefan’s shoulder. The young half-Titanian twisted his wrist, catching the strike and redirected it downward, the force splitting the earth at his feet.

  “You’re ridiculing me!” Daisuke roared, lunging forward with a reckless stab. The boy spread his arms out to the sides, shifting his body ever so slightly. The next moment, the tip of the blade found itself in the area where his right shoulder met his chest, having pierced through his chest. It was the only moment, thus far, that Stefan had allowed himself to be defenseless.

  The Shogun panted heavily, his rage simmering beneath the surface as he pulled his sword back to his side.

  “Square me! Thee oweth me yond much! As the strongest of thy convoy, thee has't to proveth thy force to me!’

  Stefan finally spoke, his voice quiet but firm.

  “You owe me for slicing me,” Stefan said, squinting as pain flashed across his upper right torso, but not nearly as painful as it would’ve been had he not been Initiated. “You’ll give us the men and supplies you said you would. If you won’t agree to a deal, then you’ll at least honour this mistake you’ve done to me.”

  You fool! Trying to make this insect pity you and give you what you desire that way? How obnoxious! Listen to your blood. Listen to the blood you refused to acknowledge until only a few months ago.

  Daisuke raised his blade once more with a cry of rage and despair, then he stopped before he brought it down once more. But it was not to strike futilely as Stefan again. He rested his sword-carrying arm to the side.

  “I receiveth t, Mr Laine. I did suppose thee aren't in the humor f'r a combat,” the Shogun said, catching his breath, but the anger that had been clear as day moments earlier was now gone. “Luckily f'r thee, I bethink I has't just the thing yond shall changeth thy intellect.”

  The Shogun raised his free arm, pointing a finger to the sky. In the blink of an eye, the view being broadcasted on about half of the gigantic screens in the arena changed. It now displayed the interior of a cell, with about 30 Yeupisians lined up sitting against a wall, with armed guards standing before them.