The entire arena descended into an eerie silence. Octavius’ thumb pointed down, signaling to Antonius Agrippa to kill his defeated opponent in defiance of almost a thousand years of tradition of no gladiators being intentionally killed on the sands of the arena. So shocked was the crowd that no one made so much as a noise as they watched and waited for something to happen; this was the first time that the tension and disagreements between August and Octavius had been put on display outside of the realm of the high nobility and top Kingdom officials, and seeing the two Prince-Regents in such stark disagreement certainly added to the people’s shock and confusion.

August and Trajan, too, stared at Octavius in disbelief. It wasn’t until Antonius Agrippa began to move toward the black-armored gladiator that August suddenly came to his senses and said in a panic to no one in particular, “Stop him… Stop him!”

Trajan was the first to respond, but all he said was, “Ursus.”

Antonius Agrippa was already standing over his defeated foe, his sword raised and his face smiling at the Royal box, savoring every moment that the crowd was watching him in bewilderment. The black-armored gladiator had fought reasonably well, and there wasn’t a soul in the stands who thought that he deserved death.

Still, there was no time for thought, no time for hesitation, no matter how much Leon may have wanted to. He was arguably the fastest mage in the Royal box, with the sole exception of maybe Roland, but it was Leon, not Roland, that Trajan had called out. The younger knight immediately rose and called upon his magic.

Lighting surged out of his soul realm and flooded his body, causing sparks and arcs of lighting to appear near his joints. By the time he reached the edge of the Royal box, he was already a blur.

Antonius Agrippa, seeing Leon sprinting toward him, hesitated to swing his blade for a split second, but as Leon leaped over the barrier of the Royal box and into the arena, he began to swing his sword down. Having been paid by Octavius to follow his instructions and ignore August, he wasn’t going to stop here even if he hadn’t expected such an order.

But he was still caught off-guard, and that cost him time. Even with his lightning magic, Leon knew he wasn’t going to make it to melee range, but Antonius Agrippa’s hesitation bought Leon enough time to summon a lightning spear in his right hand and hurl it with as much force as he was capable of. The bolt of lightning flashed across the arena and exploded on the Golden Man’s armor, tossing him backward away from the black-armored gladiator like a ragdoll.

Fortunately, the lightning bolt didn’t seem any less golden as usual despite Leon lacking his armor that he’d enchanted to help conceal his silver-blue lightning.

Leon didn’t slow down just because he’d gained a few seconds, though, and he kept sprinting for the defeated gladiator. He arrived barely a second later and stood over the man with his sword drawn and giving Antonius Agrippa a look that would’ve killed him if looks were capable of killing.

He kept his lightning magic flowing through his body, and though he felt some stiffness and stinging pain in his left shoulder, he did his best not to show it.

Antonius Agrippa rose from the sand where he’d landed and stared back at Leon, a wide grin on his face as if he were proud of what he’d just attempted to do.

“Well, isn’t this interesting…” the golden gladiator said as he brandished his own sword at Leon. They were both fifth-tier mages, but Antonius had never lost a match, and his confidence was staggering. Adding to that was the fact that, due to his armor, he hadn’t taken any significant damage from Leon’s lightning bolt.

As he prepared to charge at Leon, though, Trajan’s booming voice filled the arena.

“STAND DOWN!” the elder Prince roared, his voice alone shaking the ground upon which Leon and Antonius Agrippa stood.

---

Elise stared in horror as Leon charged across the sand, hurled a lightning bolt, and stood opposed to Antonius Agrippa. She’d never actually seen Leon fight, and neither had she ever wanted to. Her hands were covering her mouth, barely keeping her from screaming in anger and fear. And yet, there was a harsh edge to fear, as, in the back of her mind, she knew that she would utterly obliterate everyone responsible if Leon were to be seriously injured again.

Beside her, Asiya and Valeria silently watched as well, neither able to say a word as the reality of Leon’s power hit them, while Alix fought the powerful urge to leap down into the sand and assist Leon.

“I have to go…” Stefania whispered in shock as she stood up and immediately made for the door.

Cristina, too, stared, her eyes wide in horror, confusion, and muted fascination. The games had been delightful, but she had never thought she’d see real violence before. Such a profoundly alien experience for a girl who had never left the Royal Harem before meant that she couldn’t look away, no matter how much she wanted to.

---

Far away from either Elise’s box or the Royal box, Justin watched the games with only mild interest. He could appreciate a good gladiator match as much as the next person, but the magical feats put on display were far below what he considered intriguing, let alone impressive.

However, all that changed when Leon leaped down from the Royal box and hurled his golden lightning bolt. Justin froze in his seat, his eyes wide and wild, his heart racing from the sight. By all accounts, Leon’s power wasn’t too visually distinct from any other lightning mage, but Justin’s eyes weren’t so easily deceived, especially when Leon wasn’t wearing his armor that contained the enchantments that helped him to conceal his power.

‘That power…’ he thought to himself as he saw Leon take his place above the black-armored gladiator. ‘It can’t be…’

“That boy…” Justin whispered to his comrade beside him. “I want to know everything about him. Everything.”

“Understood,” the stout man replied.

---

Trajan’ voice echoed through the otherwise silent arena, and there was enough power and killing intent packed into his roar that there were no thoughts in either Antonius Agrippa’s or Leon’s head of disobedience. Leon relaxed, though he kept his sword at the ready and his eyes on the golden gladiator. After a beat, Agrippa lowered his weapon.

“No hard feelings, pal, I was just following a Royal command,” he flippantly said, shrugging his shoulders as he did so.

Leon just glared back and released his prodigious killing intent. Antonius Agrippa was just a gladiator, a sports fighter, and though he certainly had startling killing intent compared to others in his line of work, he couldn’t compare to the killing intent of Leon, who had spent his childhood killing and had continued to do so almost three years into his adulthood. For the Golden Man, being submerged in Leon’s killing intent was like being dropped headfirst into a freezing lake, and his body immediately felt weak and he began to shake.

The gladiator channeled his own fifth-tier magic throughout his body and just barely managed to fight off the worst effects of Leon’s killing intent, but even then, his knees felt weaker than he would ever care to admit. In his own heart, Antonius Agrippa was quietly thankful that he hadn’t attacked Leon before Trajan had ordered them to halt.

Despite the golden gladiator’s obvious fear, Leon didn’t step away from the defeated gladiator in black armor, and he had no intentions of backing away from the golden man until Trajan ordered him to do so. In fact, he didn’t even take his eyes off the man, as there was something about his smile that rubbed Leon the wrong way. He got the impression that Antonius Agrippa would have no qualms about stabbing him in the back, and from the way the gladiator had fought before, Leon knew that he was no man of honor.

Up in the Royal box, Trajan turned and glared at Octavius.

“What were you thinking?” the elder Prince demanded to know.

“Watch yourself, Your Highness,” the Earthshaker Paladin growled. “You’re speaking to someone who outranks you!” The intimidating effect Earthshaker was going for was slightly ruined by his wide, expectant smile, as if there was nothing he wanted more than to visit violence upon Trajan’s person.

Trajan responded by glaring at the Paladin and whispering in a dangerous tone, “Matters of the Royal Family do not concern you!”

The Earthshaker Paladin didn’t respond, but Trajan could see him starting to lean forward into a more aggressive sitting position as if he were preparing himself to lunge out of his seat and attack Trajan. Joining him in taking more aggressive stances were the other three Paladins, with both Prince-Regents between them. The Royal Box was quickly becoming a hotbed of magical energy as their auras became wild in anticipation of a battle.

Suddenly, the door to the Royal box burst open, revealing the furious figure of Princess Stefania. She walked right in without a word, her anger plain for all to see.

“Everyone who is not a member of the Royal Family, get out,” she snarled.

The three high officials glanced at Trajan, and when he nodded, they immediately got up and made for the door, much to the consternation of Octavius. The Paladins, meanwhile, slowly rose one-by-one, starting with Earthshaker.

Earthshaker and Sapphire glared at Roland and Brimstone, and it almost seemed like they were about to come to blows right there in front of the entire Kingdom. Those that could see into the Royal box from their seats could only watch in terror at what seemed to be going on among the most powerful members of their society.

August, seeing that a fight could very well break out between their two sides, said, “It’s all right, we’ll be fine.”

Roland gave his Prince a questioning look, but the order was not rescinded.

“We’ll be waiting outside,” Brimstone said as he started following the Spymaster, Chancellor, and Chief Steward.

Seeing little alternative, Octavius nodded to his two Paladins, and they, too, began to walk toward the door. Neither side took their eyes off the other for longer than a second.

Once the door slammed shut behind Earthshaker, Stefania did something that she realized she should have done immediately and walked over to the runic circle that controlled the glass window and brought it back out, sealing the Royal box off from the rest of the arena. Had she been calmer, she would’ve done so as soon as she walked in, though the same could possibly be said of everyone else in the room.

Down in the sand, without any further instruction from Trajan, Leon simply helped the defeated gladiator up off the ground and waited for whatever would come next while keeping an eye on Antonius Agrippa. He doubted the Golden Man would do anything at this point, but it paid to be cautious.

Or so he heard, anyway; at this point, Leon would readily admit that he had a history of being reckless and not thinking things through.

The four members of the Royal Family stared at each other, or rather, August, Trajan, and Stefania stared at Octavius like he had just killed a puppy in front of them.

“What were you thinking, boy?” Trajan demanded.

“I don’t answer to you,” Octavius responded, barely even looking at Trajan as if the elder Prince were beneath his notice.

“You contradicted me in public and went against a millennium of tradition!” August shouted at his older brother.

“Did you even see the reaction the crowd had to you?! Stop looking so damned smug!” Stefania shouted. “That man in no way deserved death, and you are not the King! You do not hold the power of life and death in this Kingdom! Only Father does!”

“And Father is gone!” Octavius suddenly howled back. “With Father’s infirmity, it is his Regents that have supreme power!”

“So you’re just going to ignore me?! I’m a Regent too, and my command is no weaker than yours!” August indignantly shouted.

“You’re a peasant, barely more than a bastard,” Octavius growled. “Your word is dirt.”

August’s face went red from fury. For the first time, Octavius had told him to his face what the older Prince’s opinion of August was, and it infuriated August so much that he couldn’t think of a response. His brain just locked up from anger and humiliation, and he just sat in his seat staring at his older brother, who considered it a victory and smirked.

But August didn’t need to respond. Stefania stepped forward and slapped Octavius across the cheek, the sound of her hand on his face like a thunderclap in the sealed Royal box.

Octavius looked up at Stefania in shock. Never had he been seriously hit before, except maybe when he was first learning the various martial arts expected of a Prince when he was a child. He stared at his older sister as speechless as August, until he rose from his seat a moment later, shouting, “You bitch!”

But before Octavius could take a step towards his sister, Trajan stepped in between everyone and roared, “YOU ARE FAMILY!”

“Then he should act like it!” Stefania replied.

“YOU SHOULD ALL ACT LIKE IT! ALL OF YOU! YOU ARE NOT CHILDREN, STOP BEHAVING LIKE YOU ARE!” Trajan shouted, causing the Royal box to shake. His killing intent filled the box, causing the other three to shiver in fright, and pressure of his aura forced Octavius back into his seat.

“Uncle…” August said, hoping to calm Trajan down a bit and relieve some of the pressure he was putting upon the siblings.

“Not a word…” Trajan growled. He walked right up to Octavius, looked the younger Prince in the eye to impress upon him how serious the mistake he’d made was, and said, “You will come back and retract your order. Such an order is not worthy of one who carries the blood of the Sacred Bull, our Honored Ancestor. Have I made myself clear?”

Octavius felt like he was being crushed into his seat and barely managed to nod his head. It was only when he did so that Trajan retracted his aura and let the Second Prince rise.

“Open the box,” Trajan said to Stefania. He then glared at Octavius to drive home just how displeased he was with this event.

Octavius pushed himself up to his feet and shaking off the last remnants of fear that Trajan’s aura had caused him and confidently strode over to the edge of the box as the enchanted glass fell back down into the wall and opening the Royal box back up to the rest of the arena.

Every set of eyes in the arena that could see him were locked on Octavius, and apart from some anxious whispering, most of the arena was still just waiting in silence.

Octavius stood there, surveying the crowd, then casting his gaze down to the sand. There, Antonius Agrippa stood, waiting for Octavius’ next order. Opposing him was Leon, and behind Leon was the black-armored gladiator, injured enough that he was barely able to stand.

‘I am the Prince-Regent here, not him!’ Octavius bitterly thought as he thought about Trajan giving him commands. ‘He’s not my Father, he’s not the King! Where does he get off ordering me around when I’m of higher rank! He’s just a Prince, I’m the Regent! His orders are nothing to me!’

With his face carefully controlled to show nothing but benevolence and kindness, Octavius made eye contact with Antonius Agrippa and shouted, “My order stands! Bring death to the defeated!”