Howdy,

Constructive criticism is welcome.

Disclaimer I own nothing.

Gala

"You have a deal. You may have up to four companions."

I wanted to say I didn't need anyone, though that would be just self-promotion. I want to get kicked out of this feminazi school, not put a target on my back. Truthfully it's too late for that. "You say that knowing full well, win or lose, its an end of their life as a noble for opposing royalty."

Julius says with some heat. "This has nothing to do with status. Let anyone who opposes our relationship join without fear of repercussions, I give my word."

Meeting with Angelica

Ange "Sir Bartford, I think you should forfeit the duel. That goes for the rest of you as well. My family has already reprimanded me in no uncertain terms for my rash actions. There is nothing I can offer any of you now."

A smaller boy with brown hair and glasses speaks up. "I'm sorry if we mislead you, lady Redgrave. We are fighting for our own reasons, not just for you."

Ange "Your Michael Fia Graybeard, son of the current palace mage advisor, yes?"

Michael. "I'm honored you remember me your ladyship."

Ange turns her attention to the others. "If memory serves me correctly, your Dan Fia Elgar, Carl Fou Axeman, and most surprisingly, Arthur Fia Archlight." Is this the power of the next queen? Networking and enough memory to know everyone.

Arthur is a near copy of his cousin Chris, shorter with better muscles and no glasses. "Don't worry, Miss Redgrave. I still meet the requirement of disapproving of this Marie's power grab."

Carl is a black haired boy and as unremarkable as any other Mob. "No offense ma'am, you may have started this, but it's bigger than you."

Ange. "I should be reminding you all that you're fighting in my name. Though, as I may well get exiled, I ask that you do what is best for Holtfourt." And gives us a deep curtsy.

Seriously, was this all just to make me feel like a mob again? I didn't get a word in.

Arena

"That's quite the color pallet." It really was, we have the Prince's entourage with blue, green, another blue, red, and purple. My side isn't much better, an armor of towering black, another red, a third blue, undecorated steel gray and brown.

Carl "Leon, are you sure you want to use that... Artifact? Just because it's a lost item doesn't mean it's strong."

"Remind me how much stronger you said your armor is with the upgrades I gave you?"

Carl tries to say something, but Dan steeps in. "Don't bother. After those arrogant brats gave us the right to choose the matchups, they signed up for a crushing defeat!" He's not wrong. They even declared there was no way they could lose with 'Justice' on their side. Luxion assured me there was less than .1% chance we will lose even one match, but the bookies gave it three to one prince's favor. It's rather annoying. They were going to give it 100 to one but didn't take bets till I had my team. So I'm stuck with a three to one bet. I was hoping to rake in the cash on this.

""Would the first combatants step forward and the rest return to their bays."" The referee's voice echoes.

Michael "As agreed, first win is mine." He sounds a little too excited if you ask me, as he and Brad step forward. I made my way to the Challenger's box that was far too crowded. Thiers's Angelica and Oliva obviously, then Clarice Fia Atlee with followers some sort of connection to Dan, I think. Carl's distant cousins/ employer's family, the Roseblade sisters thankfully, brought no followers. Some of Angelica's followers had drifted back with the support of the other powers now on her side, and none to happy they where made to wait on even Oliva, showcasing how out of their lady's favor they had fallen. Finally, my own siblings Jenna, trying to butter up to the high ladies, and Nicks trying to melt into the back wall.

Making my way to the crowded box, I can hear Brad bragging about his armor. It sounds impressive, though after strategizing with Carl, an armor smith, and Michael, the son of the palace mage advisor, it's decidedly less impressive. I stepped into the box just in time to see Brad Lunge at Michael. He got two steps and then sank into the floor.

Ref "Brad Fou Field, the match hasn't started yet. Another outburst, and you will be disqualified."

Arthur "What did I just miss?" As he came through the doorway behind me.

The older Roseblade, Dorothea? "Field was bragging about how his armor is meant for a mage when Graybeard called him out for wasting money. Why have such specialized magic gear if he's just going to fight with flying spears instead." I hadn't thought of it myself, but ya Brad's strat in armor had little to do with magic and favored his spear. I can guess the rest, Michael cast a sand pit spell to keep Brad in place.

Ref "Challengers state your names."

"Michael Fia Graybeard." "And I am THY Brad Fou Field, Mage Extraordinaire." Who gave him that title?

"Fight!"

Brad "I'll finish this in one mighty blow prepare to die." As the spears dislodge from his back and arrange behind him. I clapped my hand over my eyes in exasperation, I didn't realize how slow a learner Brad was. I open my eyes in time to see four frozen spears collide with Brad's back, who was once again trapped in a pit spell.

Michael "Fight like the mage you bragged to my fiancé you are, Mr. Extraordinaire. Everyone else might praise you for killing a level one ant with a tier three spell, I call it wasteful. Or is all the showboating to try and say you're not just a weak talentless runt to those that know little of magic."

Brad "SHUT UP SHUT UP YOU LOW BORN CUR!" A fire spell formed around Brad large and complicated with magic circles inside magic circles. It would be more impressive if it wasn't taking so long to cast. Michael, on the other hand, lazily raised one hand before rapidly making several spell circles and firing so fast I couldn't catch what he used to form the projectile. Brad's spell fizzled and popped as the projectile struck. It ripped off both of Brad's legs and his right arm. Where they touched red hot magma now splattered what was left of the removed limbs.

Michael "That's what I expected from someone who only goes to the dungeon when required and invites other men's' fiancés to ridiculously extravagant tea parties. Tell me, Field, do you realize how many alliances you threatened how much animosity you gained by inviting almost every spoken for woman to your tea parties?"

Brad "I never.. wasn't meant... I didn't know they were spoken for."

Michael "That's even worse! You're not in a position to be that thoughtless."

There was probably more Michael wanted to say, but the Ref declared "Winner Graybeard," ending whatever this had devolved into. The crowd is murmuring about both Brad's poor showing and his bad conduct called out.

Carl "Wish me luck."

"""Good Luck"""

Deirdre Roseblade "Baron Bartford, we can appreciate the sentiment behind letting Carl have his little grudge match. But is it really a good idea to let someone so lacking in combat skills to go against someone as accomplished as Greg?" Right Carl is essentially a non combatant by veteran eyes.

"Carl is an armor smith, and that is why he is going to crush Greg. Greg may even learn a lesson out of it. If not, his pride will get him killed someday. The question is when and how many others will die because of him." Two armors move into the area. "You'll see what I mean soon enough."

Greg, "Your friend may have beaten Brad, but he was the weakest of us. You have the misfortune of facing a real man." Brandishing his spear.

Carl "If by real man you mean a brainless monkey." Shield in hand and sword still sheathed at his side.

Greg "What did you call me!"

Carl, "I called you a brainless monkey."

Greg, "I will destroy you!"

Ref "Challengers state your names."

"Carl Fou Axeman." "Greg Fou Seberg."

"Fight!"

Greg rushed in and started a flurry of strikes. Carl just raised his shield and let Greg have at it. Greg's incoherent scream became taunting. "Come on, be a man and fight! Or are you too scared to face me!"

Carl "Why bother? You'll break that piece of scrap soon enough without my help." As if on queue Greg stepped back and did a lunging trust that may have even worked. If Carl's armor was on the same level as Greg's. Instead, it meet a perfectly timed shield party and a loud metallic groan could be heard before Greg's right arm snaps at the elbow. It dangles useless, the drive connector broken, his spear falling to the ground.

Carl "You lost this fight before it even began Seberg." Greg caught him with a left hook, making Carl stagger backward. "Saintes's backside! You've lost your weapon and dominate arm meat head. Except the loss with some dignity!"

Greg, "I'm a real man. The only weapon I need are my muscles!"

Greg throws another left hook, but Carl catches it in his right hand. "What kind of moronic statement is that!? What do muscles have to do with piloting skills?"

Greg, "Get your paws off of me, dam it. You're only winning because of your armor."

Carl "Seriously, what do you think I meant when I said you lost before we even started?"

Greg, "That your a coward and bought your vict..." He was caught off guard as the rim of Carl's shield struck him hard right in the armor's hatch.

Carl "Now listen here, you little shit. I wasn't born into wealth like you and your friends. I built this armor and even many of its parts with my own hands. Blame your loss on you being a cheapskate, not me."

Greg "Don't think you know me!" His voice warbled, his head is probably still ringing from that strike.

Carl "I know you keep saying 'real men only need muscles'. Muscles that are useless inside an Armor. Tell me when you adopt that philosophy into your military strategy, reducing your men to nothing but cannon fodder, how many will die?"

The ripple around the arena was as chilling as it was sadly polarized. The boys took to the idea that even if they 'win' and get a wife, it was still all too likely they would die under the command of someone like Greg. It was an unspoken but accepted truth now spoken was making the boys rethink their role in this farce. Meanwhile the girls are making noises that support Greg, the worst was some agreed that that was all men are good for, cannon fodder.

Greg, "I said, let go!" He started to swing his crippled right arm and hit the head of Carl's armor with the useless limb. It has all the effects of being hit with a wet noddle.

Ref "Winner Carl Fou Axeman. Greg Fou Seaberg, please exit th.."

Greg "Are you BLIND! I can still fight!" As he continued to noddle his arm at Carl.

Carl, "Give it a rest! Pilots are as limited by their machines as the Armor is limited by it's pilot. So this win is for all the smiths you've spat on denying that fundamental truth."

Finally, two more referees came out to drag Greg, still screaming, out of the Arena. For as much as I had to say about these pretty boys, I think it's safe to say Carl did a lot more damage to Greg's reputation than I would have in my more personal hatred.

"Arthur, you ready." Looking around, I couldn't see the Archlight in the box.

Dan "He left when the ref called the fight." Of course he did he's been eager to fight his cousin. If Luxion hadn't predicted and vouched for Arthur, I'd be hesitant to trust him. He had been so closed mouthed about why he sought me out when he learned I was accepting other champions.

Sure enough, the two Archlights passed the previous combatants as they left the arena. It was odd how identical the two are, and the armors mirrored each other the same way, Arthur's is just a little less ornate. The real difference is in their weapon choice. Chris has a single bladed one-handed sword, and that's it. Arthur has two bastard swords bladed on one side with a saw looking edge on the other side.

Chris "So the branch dares challenge the trunk."

Arthur "Good to see you too, cousin."

Chris ,"I see you still insist on following that barbaric style instead of the Saint's sword style."

Arthur "Ha, the Saint's sword style according to the main house you mean."

Chris "I will not indulge your nonsense in so public a space."

Ref "Combatants state your names."

"Chris Fia Archlight" "Arthur Fia Archlight"

"Fight"

The two Archlights charged and met at the center of the Arena. As Chris swings overhead, Arthur blocked with the serrated edge of his left hand sword, the deep notches catching and holding the sword in place. Arthur uses his right hand sword to lash out unopposed, scoring several strikes before Chris breaks free limping on a damaged leg.

Arthur didn't let up and lunged again though this time Chris back stepped just enough to dodge and strike Arthur's helmet glancing off of it's crest. If this was an old style armor, it would still have been disorienting and left a ringing, but this is MECH Armor. To make it worse, Chris paused as if expecting something to happen. That something probably was not Arthur slamming the hilts of his swords into Chris's chest hatch. It reminded me of something I saw before but couldn't place, something from my former life.

The clumsy side strike Chris managed was the end. Arthur, once again, caught it in the notches of one of his blades, though this time he brought his other sword down on the captured blade. Just like that, Chris's sword was snapped clean. Chris staggered back even more than when he was struck and collapsed to his knees. A vary odd gesture to do in Armor.

Chris "How could I lose? I worked harder than anyone else."

Arthur laughed. "You don't even work as hard as the man servant that has to help you get dressed in the morning, you're a pampered little brat cousin."

Chris "YOU! I will not hear such slander from someone who has never worked a day in their life." Chris stood and looked at the referee. "Sir, I have defeated this man over a hundred times before today and never lost to him. Therefore, I accuse him of cheating and demand his armor be checked for rule compliance." The cries of sore loser were as unexpected as they were welcome.

Arthur "I didn't know I had to train under your eye for it to count." The statement dripped with sarcasm and venom. "As for your previous winning streak, that's all thanks to the Archlight rule book favoring you. Swordsmanship isn't supposed to be a sport cousin." That's what it was. Chris hit Arthur and then paused for someone to say 'point to Blue, fighters return to your corners' like in some kendo match.

The Ref was having none of Chris's complaints as there weren't really any rules for this fight except those on excessively destructive equipment like bombs. The crowd had taken to chanting 'Sword Saint Arthur', further demoralizing Chris. This isn't good, I meant to motivate them to be better, not break them.

Dan, "I'll be going now, Lady Atlee." The lady in question tried to say something but was shushed by the younger Roseblade woman. Given Clarice's obvious discomfort with everything, it was probably for the best.

It wasn't until Dan was already in the Arena that we got the message that Jilk is requesting an intermission to prepare his armor. Dorothea whispers something to Angelica. Then Angelica took charge and cast a spell so she could be heard by all. "Lady's and Gentlemen, it would appear Jilk Fia Marmoria is unprepared despite weeks to get ready. I am not inclined to give him any extra time." A few boos could be heard, but so few just showed how much the crowd had turned on the pretty boys already. "I would also like to take this chance to remind His Highness to take things seriously. If you go into a real battle without preparing, like you have today, people will die." That sent a chill down my spine and sent my mind racing.

It still took another five minutes for Jilk to get to the Arena. This further annoyed the crowd. Some are just impatient for the show. Others heard the subtle hint in Angelica's words like I did, that they are the ones that would die for these boys' mistakes.

Dan "I'd like to make a separate wager, Marmoria. If I win, you have to apologize to Lady Clarice, IN PERSON, giving her nothing but a letter was just low."

Jilk "And if I win."

Dan "With how stacked the odds are against you their really isn't much chance of that."

Jilk "Excuse me!"

Dan "Look at yourself. Unprepared, an axe you don't know how to use, and a long-distance rifle in an arena this small. You're so pathetic at close quarters, the school even lets you go into the dungeon with a firearm like the girls. I'd have to be blind to bet on you." Dan hefted his halberd as if to show he wasn't so incompetent as some of the crowd laughed nervously. They had maybe bet on Jilk and now realized their mistake.

Jilk "We'll just see about that." The confidence in his voice said he either has a plan or he's just that arrogant, probably a bit of both, knowing him.

Ref "Combatants state your names."

"Jilk Fia Marmoria," "Dan Fia Elgar," "Fight."

Jilk opened with a smoke grenade at a charging Dan. Dan smashed it right back at Jilk like a baseball. The smoke largely obscured the fight if you could even call it that. Jilk briefly rose out of the smoke using his flight system before falling back, the clang of metal indicating that Dan probably did some serious damage to the flight unit. When the smoke cleared, Jilk's Armor was on the ground with Dan's Halberd through its helm. It had been the shortest and most pointless match of the day, so far.

Angelica "Lord Leon, you're up." The hesitation on her face would be obvious to a bind man. "Please try not to hurt his highness."

"That's the idea."

Olivia "Good luck, Lord Leon." Between winning and winning over the crowd everyone was in high spirits on this side.

I met with Dan in the passage to the Hanger. "Leon, are you ready for this? No matter what he said, Julius is still heir apparent to the throne."

"It's been on my mind, but I think it'll be ok." Dan clapped me on the back before walking off.

Walking Arraganze into the Arena to find Julius waiting. "When you first challenged us, I didn't think you'd make it this for, but this ends now." Well, he's right on one point.

"Julius, before we begin, can I ask you somethings, man to man?"

Julius "If it is something I can answer I will."

"What do you think of the scholarship student her name is Oliva."

Julius "I've never spoken to her, but I heard she is an excellent student and studies a lot."

"Thank you. What about Mark?" When Julius hesitated too long, I clarified. "He sells skewers out of a cart a few blocks outside the school gate." The vender you and Marie visited.

Julius "Who?" The crowd's muttering says I've lost them too.

"He's just a normal guy you meet before. Two kids, the boy is talking about joining the military. He asked you for advice when you bought from him." I tried to jog his memory.

Julius says in irritation, "What are you getting at?"

"I'm going somewhere, just one more. What do you think this fight is about?"

Julius "Angelica is so fixated on being Queen that she won't allow anything to besmirch her image. Not even my love and happiness."

"Well, it is about the next Queen. As in how your paramour will make a terrible Queen. If Angelica only cared about being queen, why would she care who you sleep with? She knows what your father is like."

Julius "Enough I don't care about my empty title and lonely throne the only thing that matters is Marie!"

"Would you choose Marie over The kingdom and all it's people?"

Julius "YES! I would let the kingdom burn if it meant I could have Marie!" The same girls that cheered the scene at the gala cheered him now. Maybe I should see if Luxion has any trashy romance novels in storage, I'd make a killing selling copies.

Ref "Combatants state your names."

"Julius Rapha Holtfort." "I, Leon Fou Bartford, Forfeit the last round." "Fi..."

""WHAT?"" Seriously Ref you too, just how many people don't get it.

Referee "Um... Yes.. Winner Julius Rapha Holtfort."

The cheering was confused and unsure. For just a second it was as if I could see the Princeling's smug face thinking he had defeated me with words alone. Then...

Ref "The final score is Four to One, Winner of the Challenge Angelica Rapha Redgrave." The crowd finally got it, and the uproar was deafening. We had won after the Archlight fight, everything else was just for show.

Julius "I refuse to accept this, Leon Fou Bartford, fight me. This is the only match that counts."

"If I win, what guarantee do I have you'll honor the challenge terms?"

Julius "You have my word!"

"The same word you gave us when you accepted this challenge, the one you're trying to break by moving the goal in your favor after already losing? The word you gave the Redgraves when you accepted Angelica as your future queen? Why should I risk the wrath of the palace on my family for the benefit of a spoiled brat that has never known hardship? "

Julius "And what would a lowly bastard born Baron know of my struggles?"

"I know you could have had you precious Marie without incident if you had been discreet about it. Or if you had abdicated the throne. You could even do the kingdom a favor and support your talented sister as her lineage is not as questionable as your half brother." I had learned of both from the other boys. It had driven home how useless my meta knowledge was in these alternate events.

Julius "I'm not at fault! If Angelica had stayed out of my affairs, as I commanded, none of this would have happened."

"Angelica is set to be exiled for endangering royalty. She knew that would happen but choose to sacrifice herself for the good of the kingdom and for you. That's what it means to be a noble 'For Kingdom, For the kingdom's people' something you, and almost everyone else in this school has forgotten." Even I dismissed it when I was thinking it was just part of a game.

Julius "What does my love life have to do with the kingdom!"

"Everything, Your the Prince responsibility goes hand in hand with the privileges you've already accepted."

Julius "What pri..." I moved without thinking and had his armor lifted by the head in one hand.

"Don't finish that sentence. Did a royal like you have to risk his life or be sold to a pervy old hag. Does a royal like you have to worry how they are going to pay taxes when they already have so little. Will a royal like you be sent to the front lines to die." In the game they acted like champions and did fight on the front lines, in reality that behavior is discouraged unless it's part of some redeem yourself Arc. Hell, that's why the Archlights had devolved to show swords. So why in the game? Is it just that reality can't keep up with the plot holes in that crap game?

Referee "Sir Bartford, please." Julius is flailing uselessly in my grasp. I must have used too much strength for when I dropped him. His helm was half crushed, his external sensors and speakers destroyed.

Julius fell when he was dropped proceeded to get up and swing wildly in the wrong direction. I left the fool for the ref to sort out or his fuel to run out. I needed to find Luxion. He is looking into anything that could fill these plot holes, of which there was even more after listening to the team talk these last few weeks. If this world is doomed because of some plot wrighter's laziness, I'll just have to force a different path.