There was silence on the mountain peak as their giant foe's death settled over them like a shroud. The immediate threat had passed, but Colt's muscles screamed as he pushed himself to sit. Every movement felt like grinding glass in his joints—a reminder of how close they'd all come to joining Csaba in death.

  The aftermath was stark - a gaping hole in the perfectly level obsidian mountaintop where Colt's knife had blasted apart, and his allies still by the massive corpse, Sarah landing futile blows despite the notification of their victory. His heart ached and his muscles burned with fiery pain, but the simple relief of being alive washed through him like a pleasant summer breeze.

  The radiant sea of stars surrounding the plateau vanished one by one, disappearing into the dark void and leaving nothing in their absence. Above, the very tapestry of the stars that had formed a river to the top of this mountain followed suit, winking out one by one like Christmas lights disappearing. Each one was a closure of a stellar radiance, vanishing until all that was left above in the midnight sky was a carpet of the purest black.

  After all of the lights winked out of existence forever to join an eternity in the dark, another light emerged—right near the obsidian throne. A white doorway. The dungeon exit, without a doubt.

  Colt rubbed at his eyes and then looked at his friends. Everyone seemed alive and fine except for Julia, who was currently collapsed on the ground like him, spent from giving her absolute all to the barrier that protected them.

  Good.

  Safety. They’d safely made it through the dungeon, with everyone still alive and intact.

  The joy that started to sprout in him was like one of the massive trees in the forest below; for a second, he wasn’t sure they’d all make it through.

  “Nick,” Nate called; his hammer rested on his shoulder, his eyes sharp as he glanced at the light archer. There was tension in his words as he called his ally’s name—his jaw was set, and his eyes were stern as he regarded the other man. “I suggest you forfeit it.”

  “Naw, I think you know just as well as I that I gotta good claim on it too. It makes just about as much sense for it to go to me as to go to you.”

  “I don’t want to fight you.” Nate's voice was steady, but his knuckles whitened on his hammer. “You’ve been a reliable and stalwart ally. Though I’m still getting to know you, we can be friends. But if we do this, I’m not so sure.”

  Nick's bow hand trembled slightly, as he strung an arrow of light. “Then how about you give it up, soldier boy? You’ve already got a lot going for you. This belongs to me. I deserve it. If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t have made it through that first dungeon.”

  “I can’t. I need to get stronger for the people I need to protect.”

  Colt’s eyes widened—The man licked his lips, his narrowed eyes affixed to Nate. Nate hadn’t lowered his hammer either; it was steady on his shoulder, his posture wild as if he were about to go into battle.

  “Someone explain.” Sarah beat Colt to the punch—pulling her hand wrapped with its red poisonous hand-wrap from the dead prince’s corpse.

  “The Icon,” Nate said. He took a step in Nick’s direction, and the light bow raised, this time flat-out pointing the weapon at an ally. “We both received an offer for the Icon. But it said that there was only one contract to give—the other worthy contender for the title is Nick. One of us can forfeit, and the Icon is theirs. Or, it said that we can fight over it.” Nate tightened his fist around the handle of his hammer as he said the word ‘fight,’ there was distaste in the words. But also a sad acceptance.

  Colt reached his wobbly legs and took a sharp breath. His muscles were shot, and the pain as he moved was as if he’d just spent the entire night lifting muscles past the point where they tore. But the danger here was growing. He tasted the upcoming violence in the air. Though his body ached, he was going to have to wring out a little more. Push a little harder.

  “What are the conditions for this fight?” Colt asked.

  “The other must submit in defeat. Or die. Whichever comes first. Nick, I intend to take this Icon. It suits me best. There will be others in the future, and you can have them.” Nate answered and took another step.

  There was silence there as he tested the waters. Moving closer to the archer to talk. Or to hit him with a hammer. Colt couldn’t be too sure; and neither of them were either. Neither Nick nor Nate said another word, their eyes wrestled one another in an invisible match of will. Pairing their odds of facing each other and coming out the victor. How far would they go… For godsake, they were allies?

  Colt tried to summon his knife—only for the grip of the weapon to appear in his hand. Right. He’d broken his weapon.

  It seemed that Uncommon knife hadn’t been enough to keep up with fights of this caliber, or he’d abused the poor thing past the point of survivability. He dropped the grip and flexed his fingers—eyes darting between the two men. Trying to decide what to do. While Nate’s face looked placid and controlled, Nick’s warred with several emotions. His nostrils flared, his eyes darted, and his frown was deep and severe. Colt didn’t like it one bit.

  Nate took another step, an ask that demanded an answer. The soldier’s expression eased, still hardened, but his eyes had settled. All that remained was how their team member would respond.

  Nick's answer came in the form of three arrows - green, blue, and white streaks splitting from a single shot. Nate rolled, the arrows whistling past where his chest had been.

  The white arrow ricocheted off the obsidian floor, angling back toward him, but Nate was ready. His hammer flowed like liquid metal, expanding into a shield that caught the arrow with a resounding ping.

  But that was only the first of many, and Nick didn’t spare a second of thought; another arrow flew, split into three.

  Colt moved forward, ignoring the weakness he felt; he would put a stop to the fight.

  “Don’t!” Nate shouted—slamming his shield into another arrow, blocking the white and blue one directly as the green flew over him. “This is between us.”

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  Sarah screamed, “Like hell it is!” and rushed in from behind Nate. It was clear where her allegiance lay as she tried to charge Nick—and Colt didn’t blame her. When faced with the prospect of these two fighting… Though they were both allies.

  The archer swore as he saw her move—anger flared behind that fake smile. “So that’s how it is.”

  “Don’t!” Nate screamed as Sarah darted past him.

  Nick picked a shot and sent it at her instead of his opponent, which the woman managed to slip past.

  She did not manage the white arrow that Nick sent next as effectively—it bounced behind her then rebounded straight at her back.

  Colt saw it, knew it would land, and acted.

  Movement sprang to him; he was between Sarah and the rebounded arrow in less than a second to an outside observer.

  In front of him hung the arrow, dead still in the middle of the air. Then, it hit the ground, stripped it of its speed, as Colt robbed it of all momentum with Movement.

  Colt put a hand to his hammering heart, his vision hazy as he looked at Nick.

  The guy’s smile warped to a plain grimace. His teeth grounded, his face red, his hand tight around his bow of light as he took in the fact he was facing down three of his allies.

  “We can work this out another way,” Colt called faintly, emptily.

  No, actions spoke louder than his words here. He knew that. Nate stood beside them, his face a steel mask as the three stared down Nick. They were all his friends. But these two, Sarah and Nate—they’d stood with him when he had nothing. Using his power to protect them… Well, that wasn’t who he was. That didn’t mean he aimed to hurt Nick.

  “There doesn’t need to be a fight.” Colt tried again.

  “Why? Why does he get it?” Nick demanded—firing off another angry arrow. This time, Nate was there to deflect with his shield. “I aint never had no-one; I thought I had y’all—but here ya go, supporting him before supporting me. Aren’t I your friend, too?”

  The raw pain in Nick's voice made Colt wince. He'd heard that tone before, in his own voice, back when he had nothing. It didn’t change the reality of the situation, though.

  “You are. So is he. I don’t want any of you to fight—and you fired first.” Colt pointed out, flexing his hand. It still bled from his exploding knife earlier, and the pain was immense… His vision was coming back after the rapid use of Movement. But the situation felt hopeless.

  Both men wanted the power badly, he could see it in their eyes. In a world like this, every edge you could get, every ounce of strength might mean the difference between life and death. He didn’t know what exact notification they got, but if it was anything like his Cerberus or Nike offer, he understood.

  Nate already had a compatible Edict with Forge—there were some similarities between that and Celestial Forge.

  Meanwhile, Nick had strengths in the field of light… It wasn’t a stretch to see how Csaba’s skill set could go a great way for either.

  Nate looked at Sarah and Colt, and a softness entered his expression for the first time since the boss died.

  “Really. I appreciate it, you two. It won’t be like this, though. This is a power we both want. So we must face another for it. The loyalty is appreciated, but we must do this—warrior to warrior. Watch. If you have any respect for either of us, please, watch. Don’t get involved.”

  Colt felt a cold sadness grow in his chest as he took in his friend. That steel acceptance that this was the way things had to be.

  A soldier’s outlook on life.

  Colt looked inside; yes, he had the power to influence this fight. But it wasn’t justice to do so. No. The justice here was to let the two competitors go against one another and give it their all. To the victor would go the spoils.

  “I will keep Sarah on the sidelines with me—as long as you both vow not to take this fight to the death.” Colt raised his voice. If there was nothing to be found in using his power on the fight itself, he would be an arbiter to ensure everyone lived. Whether or not they were content with the results of the fight, that he couldn’t control.

  Julia twitched on the other side of the battlefield—head lolling as she shifted to get a look.

  Nate turned to Nick. The light archer swore and shook his head. “Alright. Yeah. We won’t go that far. I’m fucking pissed and hurt—but I didn’t mean to kill the guy.”

  “Then we have an agreement. But I have one last demand,” Colt said—now that the two of them were at the negotiating table.

  “Name it,” Nate said, his fingers stretching out over the grip of his hammer.

  “We take an hour before the fight to recover. If you two will battle it out, let’s do so refreshed. So, you can truly say that the one who claimed victory over the Icon was the most deserving. Any other way is robbing you of a worthy challenge and the true right to earn what you believe is yours.” Colt said, though, that reasoning was only a small part of why he wanted them to wait.

  Even using another flash of Movement had another heavy tax. After the battle, he needed to recover, especially if he wanted to use his power to make sure everyone got through the fight—God only knew if Julia was okay, too. The girl was on the sidelines and hadn’t made a peep.

  Sarah stood quietly next to him, too, fuming.

  He saw it in her eyes. She thought it was dumb to even let there be a competition, regardless of what Nate had said. Her friend was the most deserving, and Colt didn’t think she and Nick had ever gotten particularly close.

  Colt… Well personally, he felt that way too. He wanted it to go to Nate. But it wasn’t right to force the issue.

  Lastly… Colt wanted time to see his new class level up.

  The two combatants eyed each other.

  “Fine. But only if we start from the same position that we are right now.” Nick offered. The distance between them was an advantage for him. No wonder why he wanted to maintain it if he was going to concede to a rest.

  Nate shrugged. “It won’t matter anyway.”

  “Wanna fucking bet?”

  “Do you have a deal or not?” Colt said, using his cut to make his voice slice through the air and press firmly on both of their ears.

  “Aye.” Nick shook his head.

  “Yeah, it is the most fair way.” Nate agreed—and then he let his hammer drop to his side, taking a cross-legged position right where he was. “I won’t move. I can take my rest right here.”

  Nick scowled at him—but did the same. Sitting down and then not so subtly turning around so he didn’t have to face any of them.

  The two combatants settled into their positions, the obsidian stone beneath them still warm from the battle with Csaba. The night air grew heavier with unspoken words as Nick kept his back on them, his shoulders rigid with barely contained emotion.

  Colt sighed.

  Sarah began to swear at Nate—but Colt got her attention with a shoulder grab and then pointed at Julia. “Will you do me a favor? Check on our Water Mage. I’ll go check the boss for loot while we take our break.” Colt asked and got, after a couple of attempts, an agreement from her to do so.

  With the simmering pot taken off the fire for a moment, Colt strode away from what had almost been a dangerous in-fight. No matter how this one ended, things would never be the same between all of them. That much was certain.

  Life was change. He could only help that with the rules they laid down, that both guys could come to some acceptance; however, the results ended up. That wasn’t to say Colt trusted them fully. No. He kept an eye on both of them, worried about the tension boiling over again and sparking into an uncontrolled battle.

  Colt kept his attention split between his former allies while moving to examine the boss's corpse. He didn't trust either of them fully at the moment—with this kind of power up for grabs, it was hard to say what might happen.

  A decent distance away, he finally allowed himself to focus on his true priority: his class evolution. Whatever came next, he needed to be ready.