The next hour passed quickly, with Lauren dispatching Arthur with the same kind of ease that Lance had employed to take me out. Arthur, the son of the current Shield, had half the city rooting for his success, enamored with the idea of a father and son serving together as guardians of the city. The other half of the city seemed to think it would make a perilous combination, especially considering that the Sword was the nominal leader of the Griidlords, and folks struggled to see that working well with the son leading the father.

None of this really crossed my mind as they fought. Even the details of the fight went past me. My eyes were fixed on her. I know the kind of puppy-dog love cliché I'm spinning here, but sometimes clichés are clichés for a reason, and boy was I smitten with her.

Lauren moved with a fluid grace that seemed almost otherworldly. The half-helm she wore left her blonde hair flowing freely behind her. The golden stream followed behind her, trailing her movements. The previous day, in the full suit, her beautiful form had still been on display. The full suit had melded itself to her form, swelling where she swelled best, and pinching in where her body curved inward. The half-suit was even more breathtaking. It was lighter, only serving to highlight her curves all the more. Where the suit left spaces, her bare skin winked at me. I found my heart beating faster as I watched her. I couldn’t suppress the longing I felt.

It was a stupid childish desire. She was a lady, a noble. It was only fantasy for me to think of her that way. At the best of times, I would struggle to even form words to her. My life, a childhood as a sickly wastling, then the years of intensity preparing me for this contest, none of them had left time to make friends or talk to girls. They tongue-tied me. But still, I found my thoughts wandering to fantasy.

As she fought, beads of sweat glistened on her skin. There was nothing about her athleticism that diminished her femininity. She attacked with savageness, but controlled, focused. Arthur had no advantage. She was as strong as he was. She was swifter. And her skill was everything he had and more.

When she landed the final blow, I felt a thrill run through me. She put Arthur down hard with a vicious chop that drove him to the ground. She stood sternly over him. Her jaw was set grimly. She turned her head to the rest of us. There was a message there. She was inviting any of us to imagine that we could best us. By the Oracle, but she was captivating.

Watching her in that moment, I felt so many feelings. I admired her, how could I not? And I longed for her, but that was no different to what every red-blooded male in the arena must have felt. I was bitter as well. My body was no longer the wasted thing it had been when the headaches vanished and my vision cleared as the sickness left me. I was tall and strong, well-built for the role of a fighter. But by the time I had first picked up a practice sword, Lauren, and her peers, would already have been experts.

Don't worry, I'm not about to give you the full details of all the fights that followed. Lauren's just bore recounting, it still burns in my memory, burns to be retold. The first round passed with Gideon defeating Zara, Emilia defeating Felix, and Theo getting the better of Leona. I know these are new names, and I doubt very much you want a bio on each of them one after the other. I'll fill you in as we get to them.

Mario snapped and chased us, disdain written all over his face. Each fight started almost as soon as the last had ended. As the final fight of the first round concluded, he cast around, locking his eyes with me, and snapped, "Tiberius! Arthur! To the circle."

As I passed Lance, he chuckled softly and said, "Surely you can take Arthur, shopkeep. If you can't..." I pretended not to have heard, but that probably served him as much satisfaction as a win would have.

I stepped into the suit again, feeling the familiar weight settle around me. The voice was there as soon as I entered. I struggled to understand what I was hearing. Was it my mind rending? Was it some kind of haunting?

"Oh, it's you again. You were very interesting the last time," the voice said.

I whispered, "But I lost..."

The voice giggled. "Oh, but I like your plan. I think you should keep it up. The game isn't about winning today, it's about not losing. These are our precious moments together. You got your beam score to go up, that was very unusual. I think you should keep trying..."

I was startled, growing certain that this was a figment of my overstrained mind. "I never told you about any plan," I mumbled.

The voice giggled uproariously in my ears. "Didn't you?"

I looked across the circle at Arthur, wondering if he was being taunted by invisible devils as well. He advanced on me, far less confidently than Lance had. The voice said, "Flex the sword, like I told you. Push for the beam."

I waited defensively as Arthur circled me and practiced, as I had before. I thought maybe I could feel something, like I could feel the sword in my hand—not with my fingers, not with my grip, but I could feel the length of it like I could feel the length of my arm.

Arthur came fast and suddenly, surprising me. I parried, backed, parried, and backed, kept flexing that beam muscle that the voice told me was there. If I could actually gain the ability, it would change the rest of the fight for me, but as I continued to step back from each attack, I felt that was unlikely. To my amazement and delight, the digits flashed before me again, and the 0.2 faded to be replaced with a 0.3. Even as it happened, I blocked a blow from Arthur, stepping away from him, and suddenly Mario's voice rang out.

"Match!"

I looked around, confused. Arthur looked relieved and happy. I didn't understand. I tossed my head the other way and caught the eye of the smug, smiling Lance. As I locked eyes with him, he casually pointed a finger down to his feet. With a sinking heart, I cast my own eyes down and saw my foot lay beyond the rope boundary.

Arthur said, "Tough luck, Tiberius. I know it was unsporting of me to force you back..."

I shook my head. "No, rules are rules. I'd have done the same. Congratulations, Arthur."

Arthur's expression was one more of relief than victory. Mario touched the suit, and again it melted from me as I stepped forward. I walked back to the sideline, my eyes downcast, feeling ashamed and embarrassed. I made sure not to meet Lance's gaze; I couldn't bear his smugness in that moment. What I had achieved—raising my beam to a 0.3—seemed wondrous to me, but it hadn't helped me one whit, and now I had lost two of my four matches.

I stared vacantly as Lance was summoned to fight Olaf. At least, I thought, Olaf will surely remain winless paired with Lance, so I wouldn't share the bottom rung alone. Lance's match with Olaf didn't take long. He dispatched him quickly. I was unnerved to see the grace growing in Lance's movements as he spent more time in the suit. Grace might be a strong word—he was still learning the suit, still looked like a toddler, like the rest of us—but his movements were becoming more certain, more natural. The suit was obeying more and more. Only Lauren so far had shown a skill that might match that level of ease.

Lauren and Katya were summoned next. I cursed under my breath. They were among the upper tier. I wanted to see them pairing up with other losers, like me, I guess, so they could keep others winless. Watching the two girls square up provoked a primitive excitement in the lads who watched. There was elbow nudging, rude whispered comments. Katya didn't have Lauren's full pouty lips or her substantial heaving curves, but she was lithe, pretty, and most importantly for the hot-blooded onlookers, she was female.

Lance stood next to me as the two entered their suits. He said, not turning to face me, "It must be tough, shopkeep."

"What?" I responded.

"It must be hard being here, watching women like that, knowing you can never touch them."

I murmured, "You don't know."

Lance cut me off, his voice dripping with pity, intentional cruelty swimming in the pity. "You're a commoner, shopkeep. Those two will marry for power and allegiance. More importantly, they'll marry to make better sons than they can get from the likes of you. There's a reason that the nobles are kept apart from you lot. We're better, our blood is better."

I glowered as the two girls started their match. Katya displayed how much she had grown into her use of the suit in such a short time. For a moment, it even seemed like she would better Lauren. Katya moved with surprising agility, her strikes precise and calculated. Lauren, however, matched her with a fierce determination, countering each move with her own practiced skill.

We watched this fight intently. Already it was becoming clear that some of us had a greater expectation of winning the suit than others. Lauren and Katya were among the best in the arena, and watching them compete against each other was thrilling. It was also intimidating. Katya was like a shapeshifter. She had adopted a completely new approach here, she looked like a different fighter. The aggression she had used on Olaf, driving him and maneuvering him with sheer power, was gone. Against Laruen, Katya moved like shimmering oil, not committing to any single attack. Lauren, like Katya, seemed to have quickly gained a measure of control over the suit. Her steps were clunking enough, but far beyond what I expected to be able to do. Lauren was strong and long. Not so big as Olaf, not by a long shot. But she was far more physically imposing than Katya. And she was swift. It was hard to imagine a world where I could defeat that combination.

They moved across the arena, back and forth, seeking each other. Their swords clashed over and over. Neither of them would commit an error to bring the fight to a close. I thought that Katya would vanquish Lauren through fatigue. Katya seemed to have unending energy. Lauren’s longer limbs seemed to be fading as the fight wore on and on.

But then it was done with a suddenness that left me breathless. Lauren cut down hard, a committed blow. Katya tried to step in over the blow as she dodged it. But Lauren dazzled us with her up cut, dragging the sword up as Katya stepped in. The kinetic flash was stunning. Lauren had made good use of the energy in the sword. Katya’s body was smashed up, and away. She landed on her ass in the dust.

The worry and tension built inside me like a tightening vice. I only had two rounds left, and I couldn't finish in last place. As I numbly watched the second round conclude, I was barely aware of my surroundings. My body felt heavy, my stomach churning with dread, and a cold sweat broke out on my forehead.

My horror deepened as Zara defeated Theo, Leona bested Emilia, and Felix managed to take down Olaf. Each victory for them felt like another nail in my coffin. The crowd's cheers and gasps seemed distant and muted as my mind raced with panic.

The highlight of the second round was the spectacular fight between Lance and Gideon. Everyone was shocked as Gideon used his footwork to get Lance to step out of bounds. Lance's face twisted in burning shame and petulant rage as Mario declared Gideon the winner. For a fleeting moment, I couldn't resist mimicking Lance's earlier gesture, smugly pointing to my feet. The instant I caught the look of dark, black rage enter his eyes, I knew I had made a mistake. My heart sank.

At the end of the second round, only Olaf and I remained without a win. It seemed inevitable that one of us would emerge as the overall vanquished.

Updated Scores:

Winners (2 Wins Each):

• Lauren: 2
• Gideon: 2

Winners (1 Win Each):

• Lance: 1
• Katya: 1
• Zara: 1
• Leona: 1
• Felix: 1
• Theo: 1
• Emilia: 1
• Arthur: 1

Losers (0 Wins):

• Tiberius: 0
• Olaf: 0

The sinking feeling of dread solidified within me as I realized the stakes. Only two rounds left, and I was dangerously close to finishing last.