Next thing I’m introducing to this world is popcorn, I swear to Vita. Liliana thought as the next fight started on the illusion. She could feel a very distinct craving for the buttery snack while watching the fights.

Do they even have corn here? Or something genetically similar? Her head tilted as she considered the variety of odd fruits and vegetables she’d seen since arriving here.

Many held only the slimmest resemblance to their Earthen counterparts, even if they shared a name. Others were completely alien, showing that different planets did in fact progress differently when it came to flora evolution, not that a difference in evolution was ever in question, considering everything Liliana had seen so far in this world to date.

Earth certainly didn’t have magic, or animals that could talk, or a System that gave every living being on the planet the ability to become something akin to a demi-god. A difference in the way plants evolved was perhaps the least odd and most realistic thing she’d seen.

Surround sound speakers should also be on my list. These fights are far less thrilling to watch without noise. Liliana added the item to her growing list of things she wanted to create or bring to this world.

She still had her plans for trains on the forefront of her mind, and she knew she’d be shoving this world right into the industrial revolution if she wasn’t careful. Not that it would be a bad thing. Based on the history of the world, it hadn’t advanced technologically in a long time, having been stuck in a medieval era for over a thousand years. The disadvantage of the denizens in this world living for so long meant change and advancement took a far longer time to start and take hold, as those in power got more entrenched in their ways the longer they lived.

The soundless fight on the illusion played out before Liliana as she refocused on it, leaving her thoughts of technological advancement to the side. Ophelia De Clare of class B and Rycharde Wardeby of class C.

Two nobles from differing areas, if Liliana remembered her classes on the peerage correctly. The De Clare family was a county, the Wardebys were a viscounty, but arguably held more political and monetary power than the De Clares as they were renowned through Cista for their Rune and enchanting work.

They regularly head-hunted promising commoners from the Academy and outside of it who had a talent for Runes, and employed them to keep hold of their power and further their reach. There were even rumors that they had a history of marrying with commoners of sufficient talent, but nothing had been adequately proven, so the rumors were assumed to be baseless.

If Liliana remembered correctly, Wardeby had beaten out Fioralba in his first fight. She had been far too distracted by Dawn’s loss to pay overmuch attention to the fights between hers and Dunstans. The fight had ended frighteningly quickly from what little she could remember. Fioralba was not a combat specialist in any way. Unlike Marianne, she was the kind of healer who firmly preferred to stay in the back of a team and away from any danger.

She’d put up her best effort, but Wardeby had smelled the blood in the water and forgone any complicated tactic in favor of punishing the weak healer for every obvious mistake she made in the fight.

Wardeby showed his family’s trademark talent in full in this fight, in contrast, now that he was against a worthy opponent. Utilizing a tactic Liliana had yet to see in a Runeic affinity user. Rather than covering himself in runes, one of the most popular methods, or a weapon, he’d summoned crystals and coated those in runes of unknown effects, tossing them about the sands at seemingly random.

The crystals varied in size, some so small they were impossible to see over the illusion. Some large pillars sticking out of the sands like the jagged fangs of some felled giant beast that had been summoned straight from the ground.

Wardeby showed remarkable multitasking ability, sending out his runed crystals while simultaneously building what appeared to be a roughly crafted fortress of earth and crystal, coated so thoroughly in flaming runes that Liliana thought it might take a small army to break it down.

De Clare for her part was fighting hard to chip at Wardeby’s defenses, and failing with each new rune that was placed, any damage she did regenerating before her next attack even connected.

Her first mistake had been letting Wardeby put up walls at all. The fight was lost after that. Not that she’d had much chance to stop him, as he’d pulled up a wall of runed crystal the second the fight began, stopping De Clare in her tracks and giving him the opportunity to summon more defenses in the time it took De Clare to rethink her strategy.

The more fights Liliana witnessed, the more it became clear that the winner of a fight would almost always go to those who were capable of adapting quickly in the middle of a fight, and prevented their opponents from gaining advantages.

It might have taken over ten minutes for Wardeby’s plan to become obvious, but it did, and when his final move was made, it left the room in awe.

The various runed crystals he’d spread around the coliseum connected, forming an intricate web of power and glowing lines, almost akin to the laser traps Liliana remembered seeing on fictional TV shows back on Earth. De Clare was taken out in short order after that, unable to move or she’d suffer heavy damage from the deadly lines of power that burned into her shield at the slightest flinch. It left her an open target for Wardeby and the battle was called a mere minute after his web was formed, Wardeby the victor.

It was an impressive example of how a fighter focused on trapping could become a dangerous foe to face if allowed the time to set up.

“It is my turn it seems,” Koth’talan stood, sheathing the sword he’d been alternating between sharpening and oiling the entire time he’d been waiting.

“I’d say good luck but I don’t think you need it so instead, don’t play with your opponent too long.” Liliana snickered when Koth’talan rolled his eyes at her, but his lips were twitching as if he was barely holding back a smile.

“Remind them why class S is the best class here.” Alistair gripped Koth’talan’s forearm in a tight grasp, earning a nod from the bastard prince.

“Do your best, don’t lose me money.” Emyr threw in offhandedly, flipping a coin over his knuckles.

“Do not bring any more shame on our name.” Zir’elon’s condescending voice floated over them, turning smiles into scowls as heads turned to look at the, regretfully, clean prince who was lounging in his own chair as if it was a throne.

Liliana could see the fire burning in Koth’talan’s eyes as he glowered at his brother, hands clenching as if wishing his sword was in his grip, so he could more easily sink it into his brother. Zir’elon was not ignorant of his effect on his brother, and the smile he gave held no kindness in it, only a mocking tilt that only seemed to further ignite the fury blazing in Koth’talan’s amber eyes.

Koth’talan’s jaw clenched, and he turned on his heel, striding from the room, anger trailing off him like a cloak. Liliana would swear the temperature in the room rose several degrees before the door slammed with a resounding boom as Koth’talan left.

“Don’t.” Marianne’s voice hissed in Liliana’s ear, it only registering then that she was half out of her seat, a dagger already in hand.

“He doesn’t need a tongue if he can’t use it properly.” Liliana growled back, but she let the princess drag her back down, the hand on her arm feeling like a shackle.

Anger was burning cold flames in her chest, demanding retribution and blood. Koth’talan was her friend and Liliana did not abide someone insulting or hurting those dear to her, not without a pound of flesh given in repayment for their crimes against hers.

“Maybe not. But you can’t attack him here. You’ll be disqualified at the least, suspended or expelled at worst.” Marianne reminded her, and Liliana let out a harsh exhale of air. She slammed her dagger back in its hilt and through force of will dispelled the anger begging her to attack.

“That’s right. Listen to your owner like the good dog you are, bitch.” Zir’elon taunted and this time it took Alistair and Marianne holding Liliana back to restrain her from launching herself over the back of the couch and at Zir’elon’s smug face.

“Did that last fight rob you of the only intelligence you had left?” Alistair growled at Zir’elon, shoving Liliana back down, arms straining, as she fought against the arms holding her back.

“Don’t start a war in our first year at the Academy, Lili, please.” Marianne whispered frantically at Liliana and it took far longer this time for Liliana to dispel the anger shaking her body. Had this happened at the beginning of the school year, before Healer Sybil, Liliana would not have been able to control the anger inside of her so easily. As it was, a part of her didn’t even want to.

She almost hoped Zir’elon lasted until the final round, just so Liliana could kick him across the coliseum until he forfeited. She would make the loss as humiliating and drawn out as possible, if only to watch him become the laughingstock of the Academy.

“There are a lot of ways to hide a body, Kastrioti. And the teachers can only watch us on the Academy grounds.” Emyr’s voice was heavy with threat from where he sat, face passive as if he hadn’t threatened to kill Zir’elon and ensure no one ever found out. If anyone could get away with a perfect murder, it would be Emyr.

“Not everyone comes back from away assignments alive, after all,” Emyr added in, eyes glinting with a malicious darkness that would make Liliana shiver if it was directed at her.

Sometimes, she truly had to wonder if any of them could truly be considered good. Sometimes she had to wonder if she even cared.

Zir’elon finally quieted, wisely deciding he’d had enough threats against his life for the next few minutes before he inevitably forgot and tried to instigate again. Liliana let the last of her anger fade, putting it away with a silent promise of someday, someday I’ll drag him off that high horse and ruin him. They had all just settled back down when Koth’talan’s fight began, all of them having missed the rules being read out during the verbal spar and barely avoided murder attempt.

Koth’talan was against Oscar Stratsay of class A. Unlike many of the combatants so far, Stratsay did not bring any weapons, but instead made them as soon as the match began. From shoulder to hand, his arms were covered in rough, sharp crystals, the ends forming the shape of a dragon’s roaring head, extending past his fingers. Even his legs were covered in crystals, the only breaks around his joints to give him ease of movement as he rushed at Koth’talan.

Why buy a weapon when you can just make yourself a weapon? Liliana thought with a weak smile at her silent joke as she watched crystal and runed blade meet in a clash of sparks. Ice crystallized along Koth’talan’s blade wherever Stratsay struck, forcing the prince to hastily coat his blade in fire to melt it, or risk the integrity of the metal and having his blade break.

Stratsay struck with fist and leg, a dervish of crystal limbs and frozen touch that kept Koth’talan on the back foot as they clashed again and again across the sands.

“Shit. Is he going to lose?” Marianne asked, face drawn in worry as they watched the fight.

“No, look at his feet.” Emyr pointed, finger drawing attention to where the sand was melting beneath Koth’talan achingly slowly, gradually turning the compacted sand to sparkling glass with each step.

Liliana’s eyes widened as she grasped Koth’talan’s strategy. He had been testing Stratsay in the first few clashes, seeing what elements he utilized to better formulate a strategy. He was assuming the other boy was a true threat and acting accordingly. Once he’d registered that the other boy had Water and Ice elements, he had decided using his own Lava affinity would be a losing game, and end with him lacking visibility.

It was a marked difference from his first fight in Battle Training against Diana, when he’d used lava against her and she’d used water, robbing him of sight. This time, he was proceeding in a far more calculating manner. He’d learned to respect his opponents, and assume anyone he faced could prove a true challenge and should be treated as such.

He was fighting smarter, not harder, and it showed so much growth from who he had been that it took Liliana’s breath away for a minute.

It was hard to see sometimes, from up close, the progress she and her friends had made in only six months. Being around so many others of the same age and similar power levels had forced them to grow. It was something easy to forget, with the lack of level up notifications that many in this world saw as the only form of progress. But even if their levels had hardly grown in six months, they themselves had.

Something in Liliana’s head clicked, like a light bulb going off. She thought she understood now, a bit more, what the purpose of the Academy truly was. It didn’t exist to simply churn out high leveled individuals. It was trying to make them truly strong. And strength wasn’t something only measured in levels and stats, it was something that necessitated intelligence, thinking, cleverness, and strategy they could only learn when pitted against others at a similar level of progression as them.

Their class ranks weren’t a punishment or reward, it was the Academy placing them where they could best learn and grow. Putting them against those who would truly challenge them, without either steamrolling them or being steamrolled. You couldn’t learn that way. You could only learn when you went against others around your same skill level.

Koth’talan’s patient strategy finally paid off when he stumbled back. His act of being off balance and thrown off was so realistic, Liliana only knew it was an act because she could see the ground where his feet had been sparkling under the light.

Stratsay didn’t see the same thing. Eager to wrest his victory from Koth’talan’s hands, he rushed forward, only for his crystal coated feet to find no traction on suddenly too slick footing. All that heavy crystal dragged him down in a heap of weighed down limbs and Koth’talan jumped forward, striking without hesitation as Stratsay struggled to regain his feet. The glass ground and his own limbs, once a boon, now a burden, prevented him from rising as Koth’talan’s punishing strikes rained down like a god’s judgment.

Stratsay’s shield turned red before he ever managed to stand again, and Koth’talan was declared the victor. The dæmon prince paused, half turned away before he strode back to Stratsay and held out a hand, face set in an emotionless mask as he waited for the other boy to take or decline the aid. Stratsay stared at the hand as his crystal made armaments broke off of him in segments.

Shaking his head, Stratsay grinned, taking Koth’talan’s hand and allowing the other boy to lift him to his feet. Stratsay said something to Koth’talan none of them could hear, getting a shocked blink from the prince and a small head shake.

Stratsay threw his head back in a laugh, pounding Koth’talan’s back good-naturedly before he walked off to his own tunnel. Koth’talan watched him for several moments, his face faintly bemused, as if he wasn’t entirely sure what had just happened before he turned and walked to his own tunnel.

“Tsk. Suppose even a mongrel can win against weak opponents like that.” Zir’elon muttered from the back and Liliana closed her eyes, reminding herself that murder was illegal and if she wanted to get away with it, she couldn’t do it with so many witnesses around.

“Don’t start fights when I’m not here, Elon.” Dunstan’s voice warned as he stood.

His second fight was next, and he walked out of the room quickly, not sparing any of the others a glance. Zir’elon sucked his teeth but seemed to place some merit in his friend’s words, for he kept his trap blessedly shut. If Liliana didn’t dislike Dunstan so much, she might have been inclined to thank him.

Liliana handed over gold to Emyr with a smile. The small smidge of goodwill Dunstan had earned wasn't enough for her to bet in his favor. She wouldn't pretend she was a good person, she would watch in delight while her enemies fell, and would pray to the gods for it to happen. And if she got a bit of money out of it? All the better.