Magni crumbled to the side in a heap of blood and viscera. Cailu’s final Spell had seared his insides, and his face bore an empty horror that twisted my stomach. As I’d watched them fight, a sobering realization dawned on me.

There would have been no way in hell that we could have taken Magni down. Not me, not Tristan, not the combined force of both of our parties.

Third Classes were in a league of their own. Every Spell cast, portal opened, and Skill utilized would have crushed us a dozen times over. The look of astonishment on Tristan’s face as the battle raged on said he felt the same.

The clashes and clangs still rang in my ears as I turned to say as much. However, a grinning Kirti caught my eye. She balanced three polished stones between her fingers, all glowing with a potent light. The [Witch Doctor] caught me staring, and her malevolent smile widened, bright, sharp teeth illuminating her face.

“It seems a man’s soul holds an incredibly potent Essence,” she purred.

Cannoli jerked forward, and Ravyn caught her wrist.

I stepped between them, holding an arm out to shield them, and narrowed my gaze. “Put your rocks away, Kirti.”

“You are evil!” Cannoli shrieked. “Hell will welcome you with open arms!”

“Of that I pray,” Kirti replied, sliding the stones into her pack.

“Cannoli, let’s go inside,” Ravyn insisted.

“Evil!” Cannoli repeated, tugging against Ravyn’s hold.

“Come on. We should check on Buttons, remember?” Ravyn said calmly.

“She’s right. We can rest now,” Keke added, stepping forward to take Cannoli’s hand. “We’ll all go inside.” Keke leveled my gaze, and I gave her a slight nod. I could meet them inside.

Tears bubbled over Cannoli’s eyes. She fretted at her lip but finally gave in to Ravyn and Keke’s suggestion, turning to head back inside the citadel.

“Kirti—” I started.

“I will not filter every word I speak, boy,” Kirti hissed. “Your [Acolyte]’s fragile beliefs are not for me to fix.” She crossed her arms and shifted to face the evaporating [Wall of Sanctity]. “Besides, we have more to concern ourselves with than Cannoli’s inadequacies.”

I wanted to argue with her, but she was right.

“The duel is Cailu’s,” the head [Priest] announced, gesturing to the [Paladin]. “It shall be recorded and submitted to Queen Nehalennia with our blessing.” Turning to the crowd, she spread her arms wide and announced with a shaking voice, “Per the conditions set by our ancestors, Rājadhānī’s future is in Cailu’s hands.”

The two dozen or so girls that had crowded around the ring converged into its center. A handful were tearful, the rest flush with surprise. One woman hung on the outskirts, then fell to her knees and retched onto the dirt.

Aanya, the white-haired girl who acted as our hostess, stepped forward, her light eyes wide. “What will become of us?”

Cailu rested his hand on the small of Naeemah’s back, exchanged a long, unreadable glance with the [Assassin], then stepped backward.

Naeemah took center stage, her back straight and chin held high. Her posture and mannerisms were perfect, befitting of a noblewoman. “I will take King Magni’s place,” she proclaimed. “However, before I speak to you of politics and plans, it is important to take time to mourn.”

I blinked. Mourn that asshole?

But, as soon as the words left her mouth, more tears streaked the onlooker’s faces. Shoulders shook with grief, and the few kittens in attendance clung with their faces hidden against their mother’s skirts.

Naeemah’s tone softened. “I know many of you had close, personal relationships with the king, and this will be a difficult adjustment. We will honor him with a burial ceremony befitting his station and a period of bereavement. Then, and only then, will we move forward together.”

“Can we… can we go home?” a golden-haired kitten asked with shimmering eyes.

“Yes. You can all go home.” Naeemah nodded. “Nothing inside of Rājadhānī’s walls will bring you harm.”

Two young women turned heel and stalked back to the citadel, faces twisting in anger. Two more followed. Just when I thought they were all ready to walk out on their new queen, Eshe stepped forward and bent on one knee.

“Lady Naeemah,” Eshe began, bowing her head. “I pray you can forgive me for my misguided decisions. If you find them unpardonable, please return me to the sands.” She licked her lips. “If you choose to accept me for all of my faults, allow me to be the first to welcome you home.”

Naeemah leaned forward and took Eshe’s hand, gently assisting her back to standing. “I’ve missed you, Eshe.”

Eshe beamed through trails of tears, then encircled Naeemah in a tight embrace.

The remaining girls followed Eshe’s lead, bending to one knee and awaiting Naeemah’s greeting. Cailu nodded, then turned and placed his hand on my shoulder.

“Let us leave her to it.” He gestured to Tristan, Kirti, and Zahra. “We can regroup inside.”

He marched toward the citadel, and Tristan joined me in watching him go. Something was off—the way he carried himself was different. I was having a hard time placing it.

“It killed me to leave Ara behind,” Tristan murmured. “I can’t imagine what he’s feeling right now.”

No way. I crossed my arms over my chest. “He sees catgirls like tools. It was one of the first things he said to me.”

Tristan shook his head. “Everyone protects themselves a little differently, Matt.” He shrugged. “Maybe there’s more there than you think.”

“Yeah. Maybe.” I had to admit, Tristan’s knack for reading people hadn’t steered us wrong yet. Though, in Kirti’s words, we had bigger things to worry about. “Let’s go inside.”

Ravyn, Cannoli, and Keke had vanished inside the halls of the Citadel. I guessed they’d gone back to the guest wing to give Cannoli some time away from Kirti. Cailu, Tristan, Zahra, and I sat at the enormous dining table while Kirti worked on Cailu’s arm. Much like Cannoli, her healing regimen was a mixture of magic, tinctures, and potions.

I really need to get back to Alchemy.

It seemed in Nyarlea that potions weren’t the end all be all to healing. I remembered a lot of games I’d played that I could tank a mob of baddies as long as I spammed the thousands of potions in my inventory. But here, the effects were slow and sometimes uncomfortable. Stomach aches, headaches, and hallucinations, if Ravyn was to be believed. Even with Kirti’s magic and knowledge in Alchemy, once she’d finished wrapping his arm in clean bandages, she fashioned him a sling.

Cailu looked at her with incredulous disdain. “I must wear that?”

“The bone was splintered and fractured into a dozen pieces. You are lucky to keep it,” Kirti growled, hooking the sling around his neck. “This will keep you from using it. Unless, of course, you want to lose all control of your hand.”

“This is… primitive,” Cailu grumbled, resting the arm in the sling.

“Healing takes time, foolish man. All your years in this place, and you have yet to learn something so fundamental?” Kirti flicked his forehead.

Cailu scowled. “I had heard as such from lesser healers. Perhaps I overestimated your capabilities.”

“And I yours.” Kirti’s wry smile returned. “Should you not have returned from your duel unscathed?”

“...Witch,” Cailu murmured under his breath.

Zahra leaned into the table, clasping her hands and staring wistfully at Cailu. “It was an honor to witness your use of the [Myrmidon] Class, Cailu.”

“It is an excellent pairing for [Paladin],” Cailu replied, testing the sling’s range of movement.

Kirti struck him on the shoulder. “Stop moving it.”

Tristan chuckled. “What Third Class were you thinking of taking, Zahra?”

Zahra’s expression brightened. “[Samurai]. It has been my dream for some time.”

Cailu nodded in approval. “Not as fast as [Assassin], but [Samurai] will still perform well with our Party composition.”

“That is wonderful to hear you say.” Zahra beamed. “I will—”

“Matt,” Keke appeared in the dining hall’s doorway, breathless. “Sorry to interrupt.”

“Everything okay?” I stood, my pulse racing.

She studied my expression and nodded. “Cannoli and Ravyn are fine. But there’s something all of you will want to see.”

“Okay. Lead on.”

We all rose from the table and followed Keke across the castle. She led us through more hallways and furnished rooms before stopping at a polished door designed exactly like the one that led to the dueling courtyard.

“I was exploring the castle to get a better idea of the layout, and I wanted to see what was in the other courtyards.” Keke grabbed the handle and pushed it open. “This one is… well, you’ll see.”

For a brief instant, the sunlight blinded me. A chorus of growls, snarls, roars, and hisses plugged my ears as I blinked away the white spots in my vision.

“Woah,” Tristan murmured.

Understatement of the year. Humongous cages with golden bars lined the courtyard walls, and each one was packed with Encroachers of a different species. Feline, reptilian, and winged roaches paced, gnawed, and screamed inside their enclosures. And with them, miniature versions of themselves picking at food bins and lapping at water dishes.

“Was Magni… breeding Encroachers?” I asked aloud.

Cailu laughed. Not the high-and-mighty laugh he reserved for when I said something stupid. A real laugh. “That bastard.”

“What?” I asked. What am I missing here?

“Magni could Level and practice any Class he wanted to without ever leaving the citadel,” Tristan deduced, stepping into the courtyard. “This is a literal Experience farm.”

Kirti rolled her eyes and went back inside. Keke frowned and shook her head, and Zahra joined Tristan in getting a better look at the Encroachers.

“Tristan. Matt,” Cailu said, his laugh diminished. “Your training begins now.”