Thirstfall - Memory of a Returnee

I keep Richard’s message open while the first match goes on below the tower.

I answer through the guild forum.

[ADMINISTRATIVE REPLY — RICHARD BOULEVARD]

Hand out the extra stock free to the guards, staff, and service workers at the event. One vial per person. No Diver receives LDP until further notice, even if they offer to pay.

The reply takes a little longer this time.

Only credentialed labor, starting with the Oathring staff. No charge. Participants and spectators excluded. Did I read that right?

Yes. Use the entire extra batch.

I close the forum and move to the railing.

Richard appears a moment later beside the coach, carrying a smaller crate against his chest. He says something to Zhang Xi, sets aside a few vials, and hands the first to one of the House Azurea guards.

The man examines the liquid before drinking. A few minutes later he starts talking to his partner, pointing at his own chest and then at the empty vial. Richard has already moved on to the staff organizing the lines.

Rahul follows the movement from his chair. "You’re making me curious, Mr. Sands. You brought a coach to sell something?"

"I haven’t started selling yet."

He smiles and doesn’t press.

Workers are the part of an event everyone ignores until something goes wrong. Guards control access. Porters move equipment and crates. Staff decide where a line begins, who can stand in a passage, and how long a commercial coach gets before it’s moved along.

When we open those panels, these are the people who could shut the operation down out of ignorance, excess caution, or a convenient order from above.

After drinking the LDP, they’ll know what’s in the vials. Some will have felt the effect in their own bodies. When the Divers start asking, the staff will have an answer before Leona opens her mouth.

They might point at the coach, too.

The ban on selling to Divers finishes the job. Every refusal builds more interest, and nobody can accuse us of favoring a competitor before the main attraction.

A Diver near the commercial area sees Richard hand a vial to a woman hauling crates and offers money. Richard refuses, points at the credential clipped to her clothes, and keeps walking. The man stays where he is, watching the crate move away.

That will spread.

Leona still draws looks, but she stays beside a closed coach. After a few fights, her presence will stop announcing something imminent and become part of the scenery. That’s what I want. The crowd needs to get used to seeing her before she gives them a reason to look again.

The matches move on.

The first ends in a surrender. The next eats most of the morning, dragging between defensive barriers and failed attempts to break the opposing formation. The stands empty during the interval and fill again before the main card.

Richard keeps circulating through the service sectors.

I watch a cleaning worker drink the LDP sitting beside a corridor. Shortly after, he stands, pockets the empty vial, and goes back to work with a different energy about him. A woman running inspections finds Richard to ask where she can get more. He points at the coach, still closed, and says something that makes her look immediately at Leona.

By the time the third fight ends, most of the labor near the arena knows the product’s name.

Rahul checks the schedule on his HUD while assistants carry two wounded competitors off the field.

"I’d advise going down now, Mr. Sands. The next battle is the last before the main attraction, and the people running inspection tend to lose their manners when they notice fighters are late."

I take in the remaining guests in the box. The man with the two blades is still here. The white-haired spearwoman too. Both have spent more time studying my squad than watching the fights.

"Still not going to tell me who I’m facing?"

Rahul adjusts the cane across his legs. "I’ve already offered you food, a privileged view, and a few hours of good company. Handing over the event’s only surprise as well would be an excessive display of generosity."

I won’t pull anything more out of him.

I call Oliver, Veric, and Rhayne. She finished eating a long time ago, though she’s still carrying a small bundle with two pieces of fruit taken from the table.

Rahul says goodbye with a polite gesture. "I wish your squad luck. I hope the lack of information makes the fight more interesting without making it short."

We take the inner stairway down and enter the corridor reserved for participants. Inspection takes a few minutes. Since this is a more public, higher-profile event, Rahul maintains a certain amount of bureaucracy and security around the items in use. The reason is to prevent poisons and area attacks that could reach past the arena.

Staff register Motorhead, Undertow, the Battle Ribbon, the smoke bombs, the consumables clipped to our belts, and Eventide.

Kraken causes the only delay.

When an inspector tries to touch the grip, the sword shifts in my hands and turns the guard against his fingers.

"Conscious Relic, already bound," I explain. "Register it without physical contact."

The man doesn’t try a second time.

After inspection, we head to the waiting area at the edge of the field. The clangor of the last fight comes through the wall, along with the crowd’s reactions.

I turn to the squad.

"They know our weapons and they’ve had time to study our formation. On first contact, keep to what we trained. Force a correction, hand off the opening, let the sequence change hands. If the chain breaks, keep going by position and by supporting whoever’s under pressure."

Veric looks like a man standing on an uncomfortable dock. "And if the surprise team was picked specifically to break that rotation?"

"Then we find out where it breaks and we start another one."

Rhayne touches one of the violet earrings. "I can assign a barrier before we go in. The second stays free until we know who’ll be pressured."

I agree.

The previous fight ends shortly after.

The gate opens, and the noise of the arena pours into the corridor. Our squad is called first.

We walk to the entry zone while the screens show our names. The crowd starts chanting Uncle Den again, the sound spreading through the stands.

The opposite gate stays shut.

The announcer presents the first three members of the enemy team. The man with the two blades enters first. The spearwoman comes next, followed by a Diver covered in light plates with sensory runes around his neck.

All of them were in the tower. I’ve already studied them. All Rank D.

One name is still missing.

The announcer drags the silence out until the crowd starts shouting on its own.

The gate that had already closed opens again.

Freya Gunnulf walks in with the Scythe of Eternal Ice resting on her shoulder.

She looks displeased. The weapon in her hands is still pointed at us.

In that instant, I understand Rahul’s visit to the Academy, the end of our training, and Freya’s indignant silence the next morning.

He hadn’t gone there to talk to Dean.

He’d gone to collect the piece his team was missing.

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