The Royal Ayapacha Military Academy's ceremonial hall breathed like a great animal.
A thousand students shifted in their seats, boots and shoes rubbing against the wooden floor, and each movement carried on the low rustle of uniforms and the faint squeak of metal buckles. Zora heard it all, of course. The air itself hummed with the anticipation and formality of too many eyes turned toward the same stage.
Zora sat with Kita on his left, Eria on his right, and luck would have it that the three 'Salaqas' were all seated by the aisle near the back of the hall. The stage was a good hundred metres in front of them, which meant the voices of the faculty professors who were taking turns at the podium—speaking of the year's tournament, the ongoing campaigns against the Swarm across the empire, and all sorts of other events—came and went, leaving no hook in the ear.
It wasn't that they weren't loud enough, no. They were speaking into mushroom speakers that magnified their voices to the end of the hall and beyond, but for Zora's part, he was more focused on the numbers present within and without the hall.
He let his head angle slightly. A hundred Standard Ant Class Soldiers stood armed with bolt-action rifles inside the hall, lining both walls. There were several hundred more outside the hall, patrolling the streets and avenues around this building in the centre of the campus, but they weren't really worth his attention. The more important detail stood before the stage: twelve armoured giants in full regalia, their sawtooth greatswords resting in front of them while feathers from their helmets stirred faintly with each draft.
Their long, feathery capes and their masked faces were quite intimidating.
Spore Knights, huh?
The Divine Empress's personal guard. If he recalled correctly, there were only around three hundred of them in the entire empire, and two hundred of them were permanently held at the southernmost front where the Swarm bled onto the continent. That meant only a hundred were free to join campaigns and carry out extermination missions across the rest of the empire at any given moment, so to see twelve of them gathered in this room…
This certainly is one important event for the Capital.
Kita had told him they weren't to be trifled with. After all, they shared the Divine Empress' class… whatever the hell that was now. Their classes change with every new reign, and considering it was thirteen years ago that the current Empress had taken the throne through a clean internal coup—most likely with Decima's quiet help before she even became the Divine Attendant ten years ago—-it was a godsent miracle that the Divine Capital managed to keep the Empress' class a secret. Not even the Salaqa Lord, a former great lord, knew what the Spore Knights were capable of.
The fact that twelve of them were here only gave Vantari even more confidence to step up to the podium and give his speech freely.
Most likely, Vantari was confident that neither Zora nor Enki would do anything drastic during the ceremony. After all, with so many Noble-Blood students, professors, soldiers beyond the hall, and twelve of the empire's strongest warriors standing in plain sight, any violent act here would be suicide in more ways than physical. An attack on this hall would be nothing less than an act of terror that'd give the Divine Empress—and her Divine Attendant—justification to declare enforcement law, allowing her to seal the Capital gates entirely until the two of them were found.
With the Capital closed off, nothing would enter and nothing would leave. Grain, people, and metals would all be locked behind walls. Considering the Capital had already spent the better part of the past ten years siphoning resources away from the Outer Regions, the lockdown would only starve and weaken the Outer Regions even more while the Capital remained safe. If the lockdown were to persist for long enough, perhaps the Outer Regional Lords may even get the civil war they'd been looking to fight the past few years.
Knowing all that was why Vantari could speak so freely behind that podium. Fundamentally, he simply knew that neither Zora nor Enki would risk starting a civil war over a few experimental children.
To that, Zora pressed his lips together.
How tricky this situation is.
But there is, in fact, a solution to this problem.
As Vantari left the podium and the last of the faculty professors' speeches finished, the Academy Chancellor—some old man Zora never bothered to learn the name of—walked up to the podium.
"We shall now confer the award to the victor of this year's Annual Grand Ayapacha Tournament. May Eryn Salaqa please enter the hall."
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The air shifted—benches creaked, breaths paused—as a thousand pair of eyes turned towards the back.
The grand double doors behind Zora swung open with a low, resonant groan, and Enki immediately stepped into the feathered aisle in full uniform, his mask sitting snug over his face.
It sure was peculiar to have a student wearing a full face mask for an award ceremony, but Enki didn't pay any mind to the curious, confused, and somewhat cautious stares the entire student body was giving him. Just as usual, of course. While he strode through the hall, words hissed in more than a dozen tongues. Most were formal imperial, but some were slurred with the salt-water lilt of the far western lands, and Zora even caught a few clipped mountain dialects in the far front rows. The meaning was the same everywhere: who the hell is Eryn Salaqa?
Zora gave the boy a little smile as he passed by the Salaqa row. Enki gave them no glance.
At the far front of the stage, Enki slowly ascended the steps and came to attention before the Chancellor. The old man clasped his gloved hand, then pinned a feathered medal to his uniform with deliberate care. The scrape of the pin against cloth was the only sound in that moment, though Zora swore Enki twitched an eye at the feel of the medal on his uniform.
Surely, the boy hated every moment of this.
Facing the hall once again, the Chancellor began reciting the long history of the tournament. He spoke of its founding, its traditions, and its previous champions. It was yet another long and winding speech neither Zora nor Enki really cared for, because Zora was focusing on Enki, and though Enki was standing at attention beside the Chancellor, he, too, was looking slowly around the hall to count the number of guns in the building.
Not too many for the little warlord, I hope.
Then the Chancellor's voice swelled, bringing the entire hall to bear.
"... And thus, it is our tradition to grant one request to the champion—within the Royal Ayapacha Military Academy's power—as tribute to their great achievement," the Chancellor said. "Past champions have asked for arms, for wealth, and for rank. Tell us, Eryn Salaqa: what will you ask?"
Silence followed.
From his seat, Zora tilted his head toward the faculty chairs along the stage's rear. Vantari was among them, sitting easily, breathing in the calm manner of a man who believed the outcome was already his.
So when Enki finally spoke, Zora was decently surprised that Vantari seemed to let out a small sigh of relief.
"I would like to shake hands with all of the professors who taught me during my time here," Enki said.
Low murmurs immediately swept through the ceremonial hall. After all, it certainly wasn't the kind of wish anyone expected from a champion. Some students leaned toward one another in whispering disbelief, while others sat frozen, as if waiting for the punchline. The Chancellor himself hesitated, glancing sidelong at the faculty professors sitting behind him as though the request were a puzzle he couldn't quite solve.
But after a moment's pause, the old man smoothed his expression into a polite smile.
"If that is what you truly want—"
"Yes."
The Chancellor frowned. "Then… so be it."
He turned towards the faculty. Chairs immediately scraped against the stage floor as twelve professors rose, moving with the reluctant slowness of people summoned to an uncertain duty. They stepped forward in a loose line, and one by one they stepped up to Enki, each clasping his hand briefly and offering hushed thanks for his service and his victory before retreating.
Zora couldn't help but chuckle a little. He knew all of their names, of course, but he was quite sure Enki didn't remember even a single one, so the line shortened and shortened until—finally—only Vantari remained. The professor wore a bright, confident smile as he stopped before Enki, extending his right hand.
"I knew the two of you would understand," he said softly—too softly for anyone but Enki and Zora to catch. "This is for the good of mankind."
… Enki took Vantari's right hand.
And then Enki wrenched back with a force that tore Vantari's arm from its socket in a single, sickening rip. The severed limb spun away and struck the stage with a heavy thud, blood spraying out, and Vantari immediately staggered back with a sharp grunt of pain.
For a good second, nobody reacted.
Then the serenity in the hall broke apart in an instant.
Benches screeched and toppled as students lurched to their feet, a thousand chaotic shouts overlapping, overlaying. Along the walls, bolt-action rifles snapped upward in unison as the Standard Ant Class Soldiers gritted their teeth, training their weapons on Enki. On the stage, professors reeled back in a knot of panic as their voices tangled over one another, while below the stage, the Spore Knights heaved their sawtooth greatswords up from the floor, ready to go to war.
Well, that's one way to start this fight.
Zora sighed, standing up and stepping into the aisle as the students around him raced for the door.
"So noisy," he muttered, fanning out both his arms. "To me."
Behind him, the grand double doors slammed open with a crack of bursting timber. A rush of wind immediately swept in, carrying two items: one sleek and cold, the other long and weighty. Enki's diamond rifle smacked into his left palm with a sharp, crystalline snap, while his staff smacked into his right with a hollow, resonant boom that rolled through the hall like the first drumbeat of war.
The uproar faltered. The hall seemed to hold its breath. Even the soldiers and the twelve Spore Knights whirled to watch him peel off his mask.
It was good to finally take it off, though he was blind anyways.
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