How easily an underdressed, soft-spoken girl gets anything she asks for. I entertained an eager white knight for a while in his dorm and kept an eye on the narrow window.

The sworn swords were abuzz, but there was no telling what they were up to. Enlisted men kept eerily quiet. Nobody was harassed, no room-by-room checks executed. An heir to Raktkalis name and therefore a potential future general was well within his right to turn this whole place upside-down looking for a hired gun. Campus security would love to get in on that action. Perhaps even the government at large.

Maybe they were reinforcing the exits, only then the other shoe would drop. I needed to get out of here. Sitting right under their noses was fun, but unproductive.

I clumsily put my gentleman caller to sleep. Killing a loose end would be preferable, but I didn’t feel like making an even bigger mess of things. They already knew how I looked and thus far the prideful brat seemed to keep the debacle as an in-house matter. Littering my trail with corpses would be counterproductive.

I contemplated hiding in other maintenance shafts, but that was probably expected of me. Pretender to a throne could easily requisition deep scanning tools. One such device was even here in the academy. No expense was spared to root out the invasive organisms from the concrete of this elite establishment. Some lucky hopefuls even got to study it once in a blue moon.

I may be overthinking it. Since they’d be looking for a girl, it was beyond easy to throw off the pursuit. I had a male fall-back identity available. After all, nobody would be after an actual, well-prepared killer. The fabled Assassin Order was more myth than reality. It would not be anyone’s very first assumption. Not after that massive flop I left smeared all over the dorm’s wall. That stunk of wild and a deeply unfortunate improvisation.

I stole some of the willing fool’s clothes. Moved the implants from the cheeks to sit under jawbone. Procedure was simple, but not pleasant. I had to cut the inside of my mouth with rusty scissors I found under the bed, as my meagre inventory was abandoned in favour of truthfulness to the previous empty-handed disguise. Manoeuvring the graft and making sure they stayed in correct positions took longer than I wanted. All thanks to the ham-fisted, number-than-usual fingers.

I’d be swallowing blood for the foreseeable future, but the shape of my face was thinner and more masculine now. I’ll have to be mindful of my expressions to reinforce a sharp-featured impression, but maintaining a front was second nature by now.

I sorely missed the hair cream. New hairstyle and a beard would seal this transformation. However, even though illegal – it was not an obscure item. Some vain bastard was bound to have it.

In the meantime, I lopped off the curls from my unconscious landlord and glued them around the hem of a cap. This would mask the chrome dome until I figure out something more permanent.

Cleaned up the traces of my activities and picked up all evidence I was ever here. Stepped outside with a bag over my shoulder and pretended be on my way to a lecture. Didn’t take much, even if my situation necessitated a lot. Petty theft was less likely to end up in a report on someone’s desk. I tried to avoid the cameras, but glass spies likely had caught the sight of me here regardless. However, having a lot of recordings was a bane too. Awful lot of screen time if one didn’t know where to start looking.

Noise forewarned me about the crowd outside. Civilians gawked at an arena of sorts. Its perimeter was marked by blackly dressed soldiers, whilst their fully armoured brethren flung battle axes at each other in the centre. Impotent campus security was uneasily traipsing around.

I wanted to bolt but that would be out of ordinary. Everyone stopped to gape. It looked like some sort of spontaneous event, or at least free entertainment. Right until bystanders noticed blood pools dying the pavement. It was a little too fierce of a display. Some of the crowd got christened with a splash of red water and the onlookers realised they have been observing a match to the death.

“This shouldn’t be happening,” they whispered. “Not here.”

Disembodied voices were correct. I was unspeakably terrified, but also just as confused. The high lordlings weren’t generals yet. They were firmly under someone’s foot, somewhere in the middle of hierarchy at this point of their lives, having been given control of just a platoon or two. Even on the school grounds there should be an officer of a higher standing. Perhaps he was Kalantan too, or maybe he just choked on the morning coffee and decided to die rather than deal with this.

“Why don’t they do this outside?” some of the smarter students were murmuring. It was a valid question. There was no need for this when the gate was mere minutes away.

This government – an alliance of five distinct domains – hinged on promises, and an absolute safety in this school was one of those. Was the mad child crazy enough to scrap the order his own family was deeply invested in maintaining?

I had a suspicion the four – now three – subjects of this roundabout execution were the guards deemed to nap their feet as I crossed into the forbidden territory. Amidst the swings of weapons meant to split skulls of gigantic fauna, I dared to peek up at this lunatic. Figure stood by a window and ignored the battling completely. His head swung from side to side and scanned the crowd. He wasn’t looking at me directly, but I bit down hard to stop my teeth for clattering anyway.

Seasoned warriors were well matched. Nobody surrendered. More and more lifeblood got shed but that only seemed to fuel the determination. These fighters had undoubtedly been top-notch. Handpicked to guard the hope of the future of humankind, each one of them.

“They said at the start one would be forgiven,” gossipers chatted on. I’d have never guessed a single misstep would get these veterans so callously disposed of.

“For what?”

“Beats me, you go there and ask.”

“Fuck off. What the hell though, this isn’t normal. Is it on Kalanta?”

“Dunno, don’t see a lot of people from there. They sure look like it is…”

“We should, like… tell somebody.”

“Somebody did and security probably plans to choke the tattletales out later. Look at them.”

Local police force was not even allowed proper weapons on the school grounds. They were meant to herd around the toothless civilians.

“No, I mean, outside?”

I really wanted to go away and hide, but paradoxically being in plain sight was the furthest I could be from danger. Only handful of the gored kids have left and I had no doubt they’d be looked into. This riveting spectacle was a multifaceted tool. Causing terror and subsequent submission was but one side to that coin. This was also a warning, if not an elaborate plot in its own.

“What do you think happened?”

“They musta fucked up something fierce.”

“No shit.”

The longer I stood here, the less sure I got. Perhaps I was being too self-centred. The successor of the noble name could be much younger than his heavy voice implied. Little twit might be simply releasing frustrations. The nobleman did just have a rude interruption of his morning routine.

Whispers of shocked civilians were disrupted when the final head unceremoniously rolled away. There was no bellow or roar of triumph. Survivor fell to his knees. Whether out of relief, regret or injuries was not yet clear.

Enlisted men began shifting away in a mesmerizingly smooth manner, thus finally opening a way for the campus security. The latter didn’t seem willing to take part.

A spokesman decreed loudly for everyone to hear, “The transgressor who has slain three of his brothers-in-arms has been apprehended and is ready for the hand-over to the public safety bureau.”

This was a hilarious, outrageous deviation from the truth. And yet, an ideal way to shirk all responsibility.

If I wasn’t at risk myself, I’d have laughed as I relished in the reality bending powers the select few possessed. Bloodcurdling, sure – and therefore even more effective. And this came from but a brat! He will undoubtedly grow up to be a fierce autocrat. Not someone whose lands I’d ever want to venture into, but that family’s brutal practises were unarguably efficient.

I, too, will become prominent like that.