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Emperor's Shadow (Elite Book 1)

Page 13

by Yi Zhu


  “You missed it, Brother,” Triton remarked matter-of-factly up in the booth as Manus paced around the room. Normally, this wouldn’t bother Triton, but Manus wasn’t like most people. The Shadow was moving so fast it almost made the emperor nauseated. One would think he’s dodging a barrage of fireballs. If he doesn’t stop moving, I’m going to throw a real one at him, Triton thought with annoyance.

  Thankfully, Manus finally feathered to a stop next to Triton and began to sit. As soon as Manus’s knees bent, the rug protruded upward in the shape of a makeshift seat, and he relaxed backward into it.

  Triton’s eyebrows perked up in disapproval. “You know you could just ask for a chair, right? It would literally take less than a minute for a servant to fetch it? And the alchemical ice is going to ruin the rug. What’s making you so anxious, Brother?”

  “I met the Southern recruit.”

  “Oh yes, I’ve been briefed. Neal’s little pet project. I never liked that fat little prick, always tried to one-up me back in the Academy. Oh well, the boy will serve the empire well one day as a Technomancer.”

  Manus’s face darkened. “Smart kid, from Zone S1. About the right age too.”

  “Ah.” Triton finally understood. All of S1 was supposed to have been wiped out five years prior. The sharp pain returned on his side, and Triton forced himself to clear his head. “What happened to not talking about that?” he teased, and quickly changed the subject. “So Emelia’s back to her usual bubbly self.”

  Manus sat there, expressionless.

  “Interesting,” Triton commented while scratching his chin, disappointed his humor didn’t impress Manus. “Usually you are much more—oh my, don’t tell me you two are a thing again?” The emperor whistled.

  “What if he Awakens later on?” Manus said seriously, ignoring everything Triton had been saying.

  Well, looks like we have to talk about it after all. “First of all, my brother, no Southerner has ever Awakened before. Secondly, what are we supposed to do? Throw him into the Arena with the rest of the Northern children?” Seeing Manus tense up, he continued. “Don’t look at me like that, you know why we have to have this Tryout. Don’t think I like this any more than you do.”

  Suddenly, Manus’s left hand shot up, and Triton fell silent, trusting his brother. With a wave of his right hand, Manus coated the windows with a thin layer of Fye-infused ice, blocking the view, yet still allowing some light in. With any prying eyes shut away, he bolted out of the room, both hands crackling with electrical energy.

  Triton remained sitting and waiting, with his mind racing in alarm.

  A few seconds later, the Shadow returned, with the young prince dangling off of his right hand, squeaking in protest.

  Darius flailed his limbs, suspended a foot off the ground. “Uncle, let me down.”

  With a disapproving shake of his head, the Shadow released his grip, and the boy ran to the safety of his father’s embrace. Now curled up on Triton’s lap, the young prince stuck his tongue out at Manus. “Why do we have this Tryout if you both hate it?” the boy asked a moment later, face totally innocent.

  The siblings exchanged a few thoughtful looks, then Triton looked down and patted his son’s head. “Do you know of Awakening?”

  “Of course, I learnt about it two years ago.” Upon seeing Triton’s frown, the prince smiled apologetically.

  “No, no, go ahead and tell me what you know.”

  “Well, supposedly, sometimes a person without Alchemical talents can somehow begin utilizing Fye. But it happens so rarely that no one knows the exact cause. The Scholar Xenin once experimented on thousands of Lowborn in an attempt to determine the exact cause. During the process, a little girl went through Awakening to protect her parents, but the following explosion wiped out most of the data and the entire research team, making the study inconclusive.”

  Triton nodded, impressed by the detailed knowledge. Some of the specifics were only found in taboo texts, but he was proud enough of his son to let it slide.

  “And when the people found out about the experiments, it sparked the Seventh Rebellion,” Darius continued. Then a look of realization dawned on the prince, and he leapt up in excitement. “Scholar Heimer published a study seventy-four years later hypothesizing that the cause of Awakening is likely extreme trauma or survival response. So the whole Tryout is to ensure the Martial recruits won’t awaken later on,” he declared triumphantly. Moments later, he sat back down with a puzzled grimace.

  “Yes?”

  Darius scratched his head. “Wouldn’t the large intake of Fye kill the person? Even General Emelia almost died from processing too much of the chemical at once.”

  The Royal Tutor is getting a raise as soon as I get back, Triton noted to himself. “Well said, but we can’t accept any risk. It would be extremely dangerous for a Lowborn to ascend to Elite status, however unlikely. Think of the chaos that would ensue,” he explained patiently.

  The prince shook his head. “It would just be one person.”

  “Sometimes,” Manus chipped in, “all it takes is one person to topple the world.”

  The siblings looked at each other in silent understanding, and once again, the pain nagged at Triton’s side.

  Chapter 22: Showdown

  “Ladies and gentlemen, and honored guests. I present to you, the Semifinalists, the representative from Zone Thirty-One.” The announcer’s slick voice filled the Arena, as a soldier led Vince up the tunnel toward the Arena. Only a few hours had passed since the last round, and part of his body still hurt.

  Come on, Vince thought, hoping to hear news of his friends.

  “Zone 512.”

  Come on, come on.

  “Zone 1406.”

  He did it, that son of a ... well, neither of us know. He did it!

  “Zone 1409.”

  The moment Vince’s zone was mentioned, the whole stadium once again erupted into cheers. Vince was sure he would be glad if he never heard the sound again in his life.

  “Thirty-one will face off against 1406, while 512 will take on 1409. If the past two days are any indication of what's to come, 512 is going to need a lot of luck of her own, to match her opponent’s.”

  A few seconds later, all the contestants moved into position, as another large barrier began forming. Before the ice wall completely took shape, Vince caught a glimpse of his brutish friend.

  Minzy gave him a grin that Vince could only assume was a hopeless attempt by the Dragon to look charming. “Good luck!” Vince cried out. Slowly, Minzy lifted a hand and waved. One of the fingers on Minzy's hand was very noticeably broken, but the injured enforcer seemed to be in good spirits.

  “Nice hair,” Minzy replied, after the alchemical obstacle completely cut off the view.

  Damn it, is it really that bad? Self-consciously, he touched the uneven spots on his head. At least I’m still better looking, over all.

  Vince shook his head to regain focus, and planned to worry about Minzy once the time came. The only priority right now was the opponent in front of him.

  The orphan from Zone 512 looked back at him with hollow eyes. Though she was fit and alert, there was something sickly in her complexion. Despite her shaved head and tattered clothes, she stared at Vince with an unnerving amount of determination. This was going to be the first real battle in the Tryout for Vince.

  Orphan from Zone 512? Is that all I will know her as? Vince wondered. That might be the game the Imperials played, but Vince refused to be like them. “I’m Vince. What is your name?”

  His opponent sized him up slowly. “Amara,” she replied coldly, “and you are barely scratched.” As she said this, she flexed her left arm with a grimace. “No matter, I will—” A fit of coughing took over, and she fought hard to contain it. “I will win,” she finished finally.

  Right on cue, the ringing of the bell urged Amara into action, but instead of charging, she walked closer at a casual pace. Vince realized her logic immediately; since the fight was inevitable,
and the victory had to be determined through combat, there was no reason for rushing. With his fists held up at the ready, he mirrored her actions.

  As the distance between the children decreased, the tension in the arena built up. By the time the two were less than three feet away, a silence washed over the entire coliseum. Vince quickly took out a strip of cloth Lucia had prepared for him, and clenched it between his teeth.

  Lucia’s punch landed squarely on Vince’s chest, her conditioned muscles delivering enough force to rock his whole body. As soon as he began to stagger, her other hand landed a precise strike on his exposed temple. A sharp pain immediately spread across his head, causing him to feel dizzy. Another series of strikes on the stomach made him collapse on the ground and cough uncontrollably.

  “Is that blood?” he asked, half-dazed. “Oh no, I’m going to die.”

  “Quit being a baby,” she replied, kicking him softly. “You just bit down too hard. I got something for that. Say ahhhh.” She took something out of her mouth, and tried to put it into Vince’s.

  “Ewww, no, please,” Vince pleaded, swatting his hand around to fend off her advances.

  With a chuckle, Lucia tossed the disgusting cotton ball behind her. “What did you learn?”

  “You have monster hands,” Vince replied, and quickly earned himself a playful slap on the forehead.

  Lucia pulled back her sleeves to reveal her well-toned muscles. “When you are fighting against a female adversary, never underestimate her strength. Whoever invented the proverb that claimed that women are stronger in Alchemy and men are stronger physically probably died horribly at the hands of a female fighter.”

  “I still think you just have monster hands,” Vince muttered in defiance.

  With a sigh, Lucia continued, “Once you finish your training, you might be able to put up a better fight, but it’s likely your female adversary will be too fast.”

  “Because girls are faster?”

  “No, because you are a dumb slowpoke,” Lucia answered while effortlessly helping Vince up off the ground. She patted her chest confidently. “I have something for that too.”

  Amara’s kick zipped past Vince’s head as he ducked out of reflex. A direct kick to the head would have ended the fight, and any strong opponent could knock his arm out of commission if he tried to block with one. “Against a fast opponent, block all punches, but avoid the kicks at all cost,” Lucia had told him over and over. It appeared her words and feet had conditioned him well.

  Since the strike missed, Vince took the opportunity to counter with a quick jab toward Amara’s back. The attack landed with a satisfying thud, but the girl shrugged off the blow and quickly regained her composure.

  The crowd howled out cheers of approval at the quick clash, and Vince forcefully zoned out the distraction. I’ll save the anger toward those people for later.

  Amara wound her right leg back, and Vince dodged to his right as her feet began the downward arch. By the time he realized his mistake, it was too late. Amara’s real target was the ground below them. A cloud of sand and dust hit him right in the face, temporarily blinding him. Much to his surprise, Vince felt no panic. I can’t believe the other orphans actually prepared me for this as well. Vince reminded himself that the worst thing to do was to panic and try to clear his vision.

  Instead, Vince crossed his arms to guard the weak points, and prepared his body for impact. Any punches would happen immediately, and he waited. But when half a second passed by without anything happening, Vince raised his knee up, just in time to intercept the kick he anticipated. Without hesitation, he dove forward and grappled his opponent to the ground. Even without the benefit of sight, the countless scrimmages in the orphanage provided Vince with a plan of attack. Even a blind person wouldn’t miss attacks at point-blank range.

  Vince twisted his body to pin Amara to the ground, and unleashed a violent flurry of punches. The rapid shaking of his upper body also served to clear his vision. Instead of blocking, Amara let loose an offense of her own, and the two scored multiple hits on each other with bone-numbing force, courtesy of the harsh life they both led.

  With every hit received, Vince’s body cried out for him to get away. But the boy knew his best chance against an agile opponent like Amara would be to trade blows. And so Vince continued the assault, and used all of his willpower to suppress the pain.

  An uppercut knocked the wind out of him, and caused him to stagger backward. Shit! he thought as his head hit the ground. Any moment, he expected Amara to pounce and finish him off. Seconds went by, and Vince slowly regained his strength. Half a minute went by, and he managed to prop himself up.

  Apparently, Amara had suffered just as much damage as she had dealt, and by the time Vince managed to pick himself up, she was standing and breathing hard. Bruises carpeted her face and upper body, and blood oozed from long cuts where Vince’s knuckles had hit the hardest. Though Vince couldn’t spare a glance toward the barrier to check his reflection, he guessed he didn’t look any better.

  Amara spat on the ground, and painted a tiny spot crimson. “I have to win,” she grunted out, more to herself.

  Though Vince’s teeth felt loose, when he spat out the cloth, there was no blood. “There’s always next year.”

  “No,” Amara replied with a horrifying laugh. “They need me to win … I will … They die; they starve … I will win...”

  This is the life under the Glorious Empire, Vince thought, as he found himself sympathizing with his enemy. Except she is not my enemy, he quickly corrected himself. “Please give up. I can help you. There is a large bet on me, and the person has offered to split it with me.”

  “YOU LIE!” Amara shouted and spat again. With a frenzied scream, she charged forward.

  I know you are fighting for those you love. So just like Lucia had done to him whenever he lost his temper, Vince stood his ground, and presented a tempting, stationary target. Moments before Amara got into range, he visibly wound up his right leg for a kick. Reflexively, Amara lowered her left arm for a counter, and played right into Vince’s hands.

  As Amara moved within his reach, Vince whipped his body around with all his might, and his arm swung in a perfect arch to strike his opponent right on her newly vulnerable temple. Without a sound, Amara collapsed onto the ground. Before she could recover, he leapt on her and put his knee against her chest.

  “I’m sorry,” Amara whimpered out as Vince’s fist stopped inches from her face. Her tears mingled with the blood from her numerous wounds and dripped onto the arena floor. With each splash of her suffering, Vince felt his strength fade away.

  “I’m so sorry,” Amara repeated, to no one in particular.

  “Amara,” Vince whispered.

  “I’ll do anything. I’ll be your slave, I swear. Just save them,” she pleaded.

  You … You deserve so much better than this, Amara.

  “I’ll do anything! Anything! I swear it,” she continued.

  “I will,” Vince said gently.

  “I’ll do anything!” Amara’s rambling continued, her mind frenzied from desperation.

  Gently, Vince leaned down and touched her forehead reassuringly. Slowly, her ravings faded into whimpers. After a few brief moments, she gave in to the pain, and the merciful unconsciousness.

  Chapter 23: Tension

  “Well, you do know how to pick them,” Katherine admitted, her face reeking of displeasure.

  Zed watched the battle unfold before him with a heavy heart. He was too disturbed to even enjoy watching Katherine be unhappy. But the fact that Vince had spared his opponent's life put a smile on Zed’s face. That’s what they wanted, to break you, to make sure your path to a better life is paved with blood. But you are stronger than that.

  “Anyway,” Katherine continued haughtily, “the other fight is much more interesting.”

  Zed watched as two taller and more muscular contestants with similar statures locked together in intense battle. “Much more even, that’s f
or certain,” he admitted.

  “Unless those two kill each other, I don’t see how your champion is going to win,” she taunted with a smug smile.

  Zed opened his mouth for a retort, and then shut it quickly. Damn it.

  Vince sat on the arena floor holding Amara’s hand as the medics came to the field and laid out a stretcher. He checked her pulse once more. She’s alive, good. After a respectful nod, the soldiers carried her away. Now no longer in immediate danger, Vince began listening to the crowd once more. Though he couldn’t see what was happening on the other side, the audience’s predictable reactions gave him a vague idea of the battle on the west side.

  Vince’s plan was simple: If Minzy lost, Vince would defeat the opponent somehow. Knowing his friend, the Dragon enforcer would put up a hell of a fight, and at least weaken Vince’s future opponent significantly.

  If Minzy won, Vince would just tell him about Zed’s offer. Though Minzy undoubtedly wanted to win just as much, he was also a very logical person, despite his dumb appearance.

  With the plans in place, Vince sat on the blood-stained battleground and waited. The cheers of the crowd began to steadily increase, and several people jumped out of their seats. Something is happening on the other side; if the audience began clapping, then it must mean the battle is over, and someone had yielded.

  Then something happened that Vince didn’t count on. In a split second, silence washed over the entire coliseum. This reaction could only mean one thing. One of the contestants had died.

  Up in the royal box, Manus looked away from the battle. “Another life wasted,” he commented bitterly. As the Shadow, he had seen enough pointless deaths for a lifetime. Regretfully, he turned toward Triton.

  The emperor sat on the chair and clapped absently. Though Triton’s actions expressed otherwise, there was no joy in his eyes. Manus walked near, and rested a hand on Triton’s shoulder. I understand, Brother, Manus thought. No matter what Triton’s personal feelings were, the duty always came first. And so the emperor rested atop the extravagant throne, and acted out what the public expected of him.

 

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