Iron Prince: A Progression Sci-Fi Epic (Warformed: Stormweaver Book 1)

by Bryce O'Connor

  “Why not?” Catcher laughed. “I hear the Battle Royale Wargame format is gaining popularity in the System and Intersystem tournaments. Setting everyone loose could be the best training!”

  Viv looked less convinced, and had continued to frown at Aria a little suspiciously, so Rei decided it was a good opportunity to redirect the conversation to more appropriate—and interesting—waters. Lifting his hands to his face, he eyed Aria through the crossing lines of his now-mirrored claws.

  “Don’t know about a Battle Royale, but I’d definitely be down for a little one-on-one to see what this baby can do.”

  The smile came back, tinged with the focused, savage excitement that always—always—made Rei’s spine tingle whenever the two of them faced off.

  “Oh, bring it,” growled Aria Laurent, just before the Arena’s voice started up.

  “Sparring bout. Cadet Aria Laurent versus Cadet Reidon Ward. Combatants… Call.”

  CHAPTER 40

  The next day, Viv dominated her match against Gillian North so thoroughly, the fight ended about as quickly as Conrad Fae’s against Casey Foreman. The Mauler came head-on across the Grasslands field, and Viv’s Speed had placed her behind the broader girl as North had swung and wasted her opening strike, burying the head of her axe into the soft ground of the windy plains. Bilaterally severing her opponent’s hamstrings with a flash of Gemela’s sword, Viv barely missed a killing blow with her dagger at the back of North’s head when the Mauler tucked as she dropped, trying to roll out of the way.

  Unfortunately for her, useless legs made her an easy kill for a Duelist who could run circles around her prey even when they weren’t crippled.

  Catcher’s fight, not long after that, concluded in victory as well, if by a much narrower margin. He ended up pitched against a Phalanx Rei had never met—a boy from 1-D named Jae-Song Gwan—and initially had a hell of a time breaking through Gwan’s defenses. A sword-wielder variation of the Type, the Phalanx was clearly familiar with standard Saber combat, and used that to his advantage as he let Catcher come again and again to break against his shield, retaliating only when a true opening presented itself. Further complicating things, the Deserted Settlement field only accentuated Gwan’s defensive tactics by providing him plenty of obstacles to put between himself and Catcher, most of which included the crumbling, worn walls of the abandoned huts and shelters that took up most of the zone’s dry, barren landscape.

  In the end, though, Catcher had smartened up, and actually pressed Gwan into a corner of one such building before collapsing part of the ceiling on the boy with several careful strikes to the rotting crossbeams that held up the fragile roof of the place.

  After that, a few more interesting bouts took place, keeping everyone in the stands on the edge of their seats all afternoon. Sense’s match against Kastro Vademe of 1-B didn’t go well, but that was hardly unexpected. Not only had the Lancer been among the summer training cadets, he was also quietly regarded as the third most powerful User of the first years, trailing only behind Aria and Grant, and the latter not by much. After that fight, though, Kay Sandree’s match had been the complete opposite, her superior Offense breaking through everything Clement Easton—a Saber also from 1-B—could throw up against her.

  In what felt like rapid succession Rei saw those he considered friends and enemies alike rise and fall, as well as everyone in between. Emily Gisham rose victorious, and Leda Truant fell. Leron Joy claimed a close victory, followed by a brutal loss served to Sam Dorne. Mateus Selleck continued on to the winners bracket, but both Camilla Warren and Giano Perez—one of the lackeys who had weeks ago held Rei down as his face had been kicked in—lost one after the other. Tad Emble had barely eked out a victory for himself the day before, but the fact that there were at least a couple people in the losers bracket with him who Rei desperately wanted a solid excuse to punch in the face had him so excited he even forgot about Shido’s evolution for a bit.

  Once the day’s brackets wrapped, though, it was straight to the East Center with Aria, Viv, and Catcher, followed by an evening of solid training interrupted only with an hour for dinner after the mess hall had emptied from the late-afternoon rush.

  Rei suspected he’d adjust to it within a day or two, but for the moment Shido’s adaptations still felt like a solid leap forward in his total power. Whatever the upgraded design of the steel was, it hadn’t lost any of its defensive value despite a thinning of the metal, and the jointed action of his greaves as he moved was more fluid, more natural. His claws punched and cleaved with no more efficacy than before, but he could now slash and strike with both hands rather than having to focus on independently attacking and defending with the right and left respectively. In their bout the night before Rei had still been a long way from taking Aria to the ground, but the doubling of his offensive options had earned him not only his second hit ever on her, but also his third.

  Of course, some bare scrapes to her thigh and side hadn’t amounted to much when she’d decapitated him with a blurring cross-sweep of her spear.

  Still, it certainly amounted to something, which showed particularly well when they’d traded partners a little later that night. For the first time ever Rei had found himself fighting Catcher to a stalemate when the pair of them battled it out for seven minutes before they both agreed to the draw, neither able to break through the other’s defenses. Viv had still nailed him to the ground a little while later, but it took her a full five minutes, and she hadn’t walked away from the battle unscathed. What was more, by the time their second afternoon of training after Shido’s evolution had wrapped, Rei’s Endurance had notched up once again, as had his Defense. The CAD’s new versatility allowed him even more variation in his tactics, and he could only believe the change of pace had to feed well into the Device’s Growth. Rei suspected he might hit C0 before his next match, even with their standard training classes canceled for the week in favor of mandatory attendance to the opening matches of the Intra-School. Combining his steady spec improvements with Shido’s evolution, by Wednesday he was already starting to feel a building anticipation for his next fight.

  It worked out well in the end for him, because they were on their way from lunch after morning lectures, heading to the Arena, when the first years received their second-round assignments.

  “Oh this is gonna be so sweet!” Catcher was in the middle of saying. “Not like they’re gonna be S-Ranked matches, but some of the second years are high in the Bs, which will definitely make for some cool—Oh! Hello!”

  Rei had been mulling over his own thoughts, only half-listening as Viv and Catcher discussed the afternoon’s upcoming tournament, when the notification that must have stolen the Saber’s attention flashed across his own vision. As one he, Aria—who had been walking along beside him listening—and the other two all stopped short, as did the majority of other first years trailing along the path with them from the mess hall towards the center of the campus.

  Viv was the first one to find her name, and she groaned. “Well that’s gonna be awkward. I’m up against Benaly…”

  “Jack Benaly?” Rei asked, scrolling all the way down. “Oof… Good luck.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Viv muttered, closing her frame and looking around. “What about you guys?”

  “Someone named Candice Brett?” Catcher asked hopefully of the group.

  “She’s a Duelist in 1-D, I think,” Aria answered him, her eyes tracing what must have been her line. “Not a pushover, but definitely someone you can handle. I’m up against Adam Jax.”

  Viv grimaced. “That’s two in a row from our own block for you. Damn. Reese isn’t pulling any punches.” She looked to Rei. “What about you? If you say Log—if you say Grant I swear on the MIND I’ll—”

  Rei only gave her the briefest of raised eyebrows before he shook his head, deciding it was best to pretend he hadn’t heard the slip-up. “Nah. Not Grant. Turns out the major’s not that ballsy.” Then h
e grinned. “Next best thing, though.”

  “Who?” all three of them asked with a range of anticipation and exasperation at his stalling.

  “Warren,” Rei told them, working hard to hold at bay the excited energy that had coursed through him at the name.

  There was a trading of glances by the others, and Viv smirked viciously.

  “Camilla Warren?” she growled with distinct pleasure.

  “Yup,” Rei answered just as excitedly.

  “Wait. The bitch who tricked you into getting jumped by Selleck and the others?”

  To a one Rei, Viv, and Catcher all looked around in surprise at Aria’s angry snarl.

  “What?” she asked irritably. “I’m not allowed to get pissed?”

  “No, you are…” Rei told her slowly, grinning a bit. “I just don’t think I’ve ever heard you curse…”

  Aria’s cheeks went a little pink. “Yeah, well… My sister would say a proper lady knows less how not to say something, and more when exactly to say it. So that’s her, right? The Brawler in your group who got you ganged up on?”

  “Yeah. It’s her.” Rei blinked his frame away. “Probably the best Reese could line up: someone who has a bone to pick with me.”

  “Aside from Grant and Aadhik Khatri, all of the summer group made it through the first round,” Aria agreed, indicating the path again with a questioning dip of her head as she spoke. “I suppose it would have looked a bit too suspicious if he’d pitched you up against either of them, though. Two top rankers in a row…”

  “But how could he have known about Warren’s issue with Rei?” Catcher asked as the four of them started moving towards the Arena again. “He didn’t even tell Hadish Barnes, and we sure as hell didn’t say anything.” He looked between Aria and Viv. “Did we…?”

  “Not me.” Aria shook her head.

  “Definitely not,” Viv answered much the same.

  “No need to go on a witch hunt, guys,” Rei said with a snort as a pair of second years who looked late for their matches brushed by them as quickly as they could get away with without jogging. “At this point Warren and Emble’s issue with me is an open secret in our group, and probably most of the class. Not to mention who knows who Selleck or any of them told? Reese isn’t dumb. None of the staff are dumb. It might even have just taken the six of those guys showing up to class all bruised like that to clue most everyone in.”

  Viv grunted in agreement, but frowned at the shape of the Arena as it showed itself once they’d taken a bend around through the campus path. “Probably. Still… If that’s the case, you’d think someone would catch on to what he’s doing, right? Even if he’s being careful, the dickhead is definitely stacking your fights against you.”

  “Who says no one’s caught on?” Aria asked quietly, and Rei was pretty sure only he had made out the question.

  Shortly after that the pooling of students and staff near the mouth of the Arena made it a little too loud to talk easily, so with nothing more than furtive glances around by Rei and Catcher they waited for the crawl of the controlled lines to reach the building. No famous faces they hadn’t already identified among the older years leapt out from the crowd by the time they mounted the entrance steps, though, and so it was a little dejected that the boys took the lead south, along the walkway. A couple minutes later they were climbing the steps to the row they’d been lucky enough to claim for the last two days, and took a seat in the hubbub and noise of the gathering students and staff.

  As with Monday and Tuesday, the Intra-Schools kicked off exactly at 1300, with laggers unfortunate enough to suffer the stares of the already-attending as they hurried into the Arena in singles and pairs. The clock struck the starting hour, and two shapes appeared from the tunnels under the stadium to cross the field from opposite sides. Meeting in the middle of the Dueling field that would host the day’s matches, the officers turned to face the stands, and Rei heard a shout of laughter from who might have been Sense below them. Then he, too, recognized Michael Bretz standing beside Dyrk Reese, looking distinctly unusual in the traditional black-and-gold of the ISCM, rather than the typical red-on-white of his combat suit.

  “Guess we know who the day’s commentator is now,” Rei chuckled to the others, pointing the Brawler’s sub-instructor out to them.

  That was the moment that Reese’s eyes blazed, the NOED distinguishable even so far below them, and a then the two men were rising rapidly on the projected disc they would share the rest of the afternoon. Bretz’s frame followed suit, and he looked to take a deep breath before opening his mouth to speak in a rather impressive announcer’s voice, amplified by the Arena’s systems.

  “Cadets! Welcome to the third day of the opening week of the 81st Galens Institute Intra-School SCT! As—we hope—all of you are aware, today marks the starting bracket of the second year matches! First years—” he turned to the east section of the three areas the students had taken up “—this will be an excellent opportunity to observe the level and ability you are expected to have achieved in the next twelve months! Third years—” he looked now to the middle section “—enjoy how far you’ve may have come, but take account also of the talents you might find yourself facing in the future! It is not unheard of for those younger than you to rise far into the Global, System, and even Intersystem tournaments! And as for you second years—” his eyes fell on the west section “—fight hard, and fight well. Take this chance to study your classmates, to observe those who will be both your teammates and your rivals in the coming weeks, months, and years. You will never have a greater opportunity than this!”

  There was a pause as Bretz’s opening speech—hardly as involved as Takeshi or de Soto’s in the previous days, but no less poignant—rang in echoes through the Arena. After a few seconds the chief warrant officer put on a smile that looked only a little forced, and dove right into the day’s event.

  “And now that that’s out of the way… Let’s all give a big cheer for our first combatants of the day!”

  Immediately there was a resounding roar, and Bretz’s actual calling of the pairs’ names was lost to the shouts and applause as two students in red-and-green—a girl with pinkish-blue hair and a boy with dark skin and with a shaved head, like Sense’s—stepped into view and onto the projection plating. They both approached the Dueling field with calm confidence, heads held high, and only once they were standing on opposite sides of the silver perimeter did the noise from the crowd die down. Major Reese waited deliberately, it seemed, until it was so quiet someone’s cough from the second years’ section reverberated through the vastness of the still Arena.

  “Combatants, take position.”

  The red rings appeared, and the second years were standing in them a heartbeat later. As soon as they were in place, Reese continued only briefly.

  “This is an official Duel. Do you condone and agree to the rules of this fight?”

  There was a grouping of low muttering from the first years all around them, and Rei saw Viv and Catcher exchange a look of surprise to his left, but he himself said nothing. Indeed, he was relieved to hear the traditional question being asked, rather than the longer arbiter’s speech the major had been insisting on for the last two days.

  Apparently the second years were deemed experienced enough not to be made to suffer anything more than the standard protocols of CAD-fighting.

  The two cadets nodded together, and at once Reese’s NOED flared once more. There was a building rush of sound, and beneath the feet of the fighters the projection plating swelled upward in a torrent of liquid, washing blue.

  As one Rei, Aria, Viv, and Catcher all called out the name of the recognizable field together.

  “Flood Zone!”

  A classic of the SCTs, the variations of the Flood Zone field were favorites of many viewers because of their simple obstacles. Like the Neutral Zone they didn’t often offer much in the way of barriers or levels of complexity, but they were also just a notch more
involved than the plain white of that most basic of combat areas. As the two second years were lifted up from the plating, so too did the water rise about their feet, then their ankles, then their shins. By the time the field was in place, the combatants stood in a knee-deep rush of what might have been mistaken for a shallow river were it not for the scenery projected behind them. A grey, boiling storm brewed and flashed lighting across the distant horizon, and the lashing pound of a torrential rain must have had the two fighters feeling soaked to the bone within seconds. They stood in what had likely once been a grain field—judging by the shape of an old-world style farmhouse in the distance—and even before the match began Rei could tell the two were fighting the force of the flood about their legs.

  “Field: Flood Zone.”

  Fortunately for them, the Arena didn’t keep them standing in the abuse of the elements for long.

  “Cadet Omara Ejua versus Harper Heton. Combatants… Call.”

  The combatants—Ejua and Heton, Rei now knew—did as instructed, and from his left Viv shouted in excitement.

  “Oh! This will be interesting!”

  “You’ve got that right,” Aria muttered from Rei’s right, and he caught the flash of her NOED zooming in on the field even as he pulled up his own to do the same.

  Ejua and Heton, it transpired, were both Duelists. The former’s Device was a sleek, silver-blue overlaid with red vysetrium, and his two blades were identical, a pair of matching, curved sabers about 20 inches long by Rei’s guess. A visor covered the top half of his face, the opaque glass alight with red lines the same color as his vysetrium, and the CAD enveloped every inch of both arms and legs, leaving only his torso and abdomen unprotected, along with his neck, chin, and mouth. Heton, on the other hand, stood in white-and-green with glowing orange lines, her Device having encased her body, neck, and head to just below her eyes, as well as from her knees and elbows down. Only her upper arms and thighs were bare, along with the crown of her pink-blue hair, and in her right hand she held a long, double-edged straight sword, complimented by a shorter parrying dagger in her left.