73 Albright

Cynthia, armor torn to shreds, stood victorious at the end of her round. It had been a near thing, but her excellently crafted armor, courtesy of her ridiculously wealthy family, had weathered the storm just well enough to prevent a single drop of blood from being spilled.

Her opponent was in much better condition, but a thin line of blood had appeared on his right cheek in the past exchange. By the rules of the Autumn Tournament, he was the loser. The man stalked off the stage as if he was a lion with its pride wounded. If Jacob was in that warrior's position, he might have done the exact same.

Returning to her seat, Cynthia plopped down as if she were some kind of beanbag. She just sort of… slumped. Jacob's turn came right afterwards, pairing him with the first Relentless warrior he'd had to face since the Tournament's beginning. His opponent mirrored the standard Delreyan trend of the longsword. The weapon was as bare-bones as Jacob's own, making him think that his opponent was probably one of the few scholarship students admitted to Relentless Blade College.

"Good luck," Jacob said as the two of them diverged on their paths to their respective ends of the platform. The boy, smaller than even Jacob, smiled at the good sportsmanship. The boy – Rolls was his name – responded in kind. from what Jacob had seen, it was a rare thing in a competition such as this. Most typically, opponents wanted to eliminate the other as fast as possible. This competitive nature was fostered by the environment these warriors were raised in, especially noticeable in the noble warriors.

The announcer called the beginning of the fight. It was over in a little past a minute. Jacob had trained far too much against longsword users during both his time in the army and over the past few days to be easily beaten by someone using the common weapon. Only Cynthia, from what he'd seen, posed a threat to him among any who used a longsword.

Rolls had initially tried to keep Jacob at range, but Jacob had been far too aggressive to repel all his strikes for long. Intentionally, he'd left Rolls a chance to turn the tide of battle when he began to tire. Jacob used the respite, focusing only on defense. Once he regained the stamina that would allow him to perform another flurry of strikes, he broke the boy's timing.

Just as Jacob was about to press his attack, Rolls put his hands in the air. "I surrender!" His cry was the first time that someone had surrendered this year. Jacob supposed that there wasn't anything to gain except a wound for the boy. Shaking Rolls' hand, Jacob returned to Relentless' area in the warriors' sector of the stands. It was barely above the floor of the coliseum, and so he was back in his seat, enjoying the comfortable position, before long.

Cynthia glared at him as he had expected she would, but the rest of the Relentless warriors welcomed him back surprisingly warmly. When he inquired – the first time he'd spoken to anyone in the stands since the morning – they told him that he'd proven himself to be capable. Warriors, even those of noble backgrounds, seemingly respected strength above station. It was a refreshing outlook, but kindness or pity wouldn't be enough. He had to be free, and he was only two more rounds away from being in the final four. His blade was waiting for him.

The rest of the rounds went swimmingly for Relentless Blade College. They surpassed Dauntless in how many they had remaining in the final sixteen. Only two free-warriors were left in the contest, both of them burly with the physique of lumberjacks. They looked to be brothers, both wielding battleaxes.

The Dauntless group was no less intimidating. Where Relentless fostered light weapons over other weapons, forgoing extensive training in heavier things like a war hammer, Dauntless specialized exclusively in such weapons. The majority of their warriors were burly as well, including the scant few women he had seen among their ranks. Only a few were less than bulky, but even they had rippling muscles.

Jacob was fortunate he had been sent to Relentless; his style of fighting wouldn't have been respected or nurtured at Dauntless. It was a shame his stay in Steelshade would end so soon. Training with Provost Thomson had turned him into a force of nature. With the full application of his magic – he had held back with Provost Thomson to the level of mana he originally had – he could very well be the most powerful close-range combatant in the city.

The mages would represent a challenge that Jacob hoped to eventually rectify by increasing the amount of mana he could wield. With any luck, he could eventually strike his enemies down with tornados. Hopefully, he could recreate what he had done with the wyrm, but without the extreme mental anguish.

The announcer closed off the round, telling everyone that the fight order was being finalized for the round of sixteen. After he did so, he began announcing the arrival of Steelshade's big shots.

"Duke Albert Hycinth, Lord of Steelshade," he called, the fanfare of trumpets accompanying his voice. The Duke, a tall man in peak physical condition took his seat near the middle of the arena's stands in a reserved area. His spot was just a bit better than the rest in the section. His blonde hair fluttered in the breeze, often obscuring his face. But when Jacob did catch a glimpse, his heart felt as if it froze. Those eyes were scanning their surroundings constantly. When they had swept over him, it felt as if all his deepest secrets were exposed.

Fortunately, the rest of the announced guests were fairly simple compared to their liege lord. Some had servants attending them, but there was nothing that tripped Jacob up quite as much as the Duke's gravitas. That is, until the end.

"Lady Stella Albright and her daughter, Lady Angelica Albright!"