223 Jackal's Deal

Last was General Marble, who appeared on the stage with a burst of silver life essence, a scroll in hand. The enthusiastic voices of the crowd died down until only hushed curses and threats drifted along the tense air. "As of this moment," Marble's voice boomed as he read the parchment aloud. "Initiation is over."

Parts of the scroll crumpled. "The estimated deaths are in the dozens, a heartwarmingly-low number, as mournful as it is. I would like to take a second to thank Oliver for keeping that number as low as it is. Unfortunately he could not attend the finish because he passed out from exhaustion. On to other matters, the swamp is being picked through by-"

The sea of clouds and the valley below flashed a brilliant blue. The silence was broken by a storm of excited whispers about magicians. Giddy nobles pointed to a mountain peak, where a building both brighter and taller than the rest loomed, like a watchful guardian.

Golden life essence formed around Alexander's hands. Those who saw this shut their mouths and urged others to do the same by hurriedly tapping others' arms.

Alexander relaxed as the crowd's attention returned to Marble, who sighed, "There have been many deaths and there will be many more to come." He cocked his head to the side as if someone was whispering into his ear. He tugged at his scraggly black beard and shot a glare towards the masked group. "So much for a civil speech," he muttered as he tore up the scroll. "Five nobles kicked the bucket." He took a step forward, his hollow leg knocking against the stage.

"Their mangled bodies were found right next to each other. Usually this would not be a problem. This time is an exception as they were from different groups and all from the same noble faction." He took a long, shaky breath. "Casualties are expected. It is necessary to push the lot of you past your limits so you may all grow into fine knights. What I do not expect is for one of my students to turn against their own." He ripped off his eyepatch and beneath it was nothing more than a shadow-obscured darkness. "Treachery is something I am very familiar with, especially after my companions abandoned me upon the sight of that fucker over there." He pointed over his shoulder at the guardian's mangled body.

He replaced his eyepatch, picked the torn scroll up, and held it close to his single eye. The crowd went silent – that is what Doevm's group expected. Instead, the students surrounded the masked group. Cries of fairness and swears soured the moment. "The victor is of course," Marble continued, not even so much as raising an eyebrow at the disturbance. "The group led by Jackal Von Trike. Congratulations."

The crowd's momentum screeched to a grinding halt. The quiet which set over the crowd wasn't one of bated breath nor of drumming heartbeats, but a stunned silence so dreadful that one could almost hear the masked fools' realities shattering.

"Thank you, General Marble!" Jackal exclaimed as he, Dag, Molly, and Eugene sauntered onto the stage, still wearing their black masks.

"W-what the hell?" One of Jackal's men stammered. One by one, the commoners slowly untied their masks, revealing faces covered in distraught and old battle scars from the front lines. "This has to be a mistake." The same man continued.

He ran around the platform to the pile of corpses, where he then peeled a few corpses back to reveal the corpse of the Guardian; its maw smashed, its eyes gouged, its scales peeled away, and skin burnt and lacerated. Black chains wrapped around its massive form. "All us commoners worked as one under Trak." The man continued. "He is the rightful winner."

Mr. Bruke hopped down from his seat and grabbed him by the arm. He was escorted back to the crowd all the while the man was fervently pointing to the people on the stage, who took off their masks. If they hadn't already, the rest of the commoners tore off their masks, threw them to the ground, and stomped on them.

The atmosphere tensed up like a rusty spring and a wave of hostility spread through the crowd, which erupted in a frenzy of cursing and threats. Nobles and commoners alike tried to shove their way onto the stage. The only person holding them back was Marble and the instructors, who jumped down to help him. Weapons were drawn and blows pounded into flesh.

Thomas chuckled and looked at the rest: "Can we push into the crowd? I want to see if I can steal something."

Frey raised an eyebrow. "You know, you are making me wonder as to how you came to know all of those skills."

"Well…Uh." Thomas shrugged. "I got bored."

"I do not give a crap," Frey laughed, which turned into nervous chuckling and a quick glance at Doevm. "I am not going through something like that again."

Jackal's chest expanded under a surge of blue life essence and he screamed, "Silence!" While he took deep breaths and recovered from the yell, the crowd (somewhat) stopped shoving. Their firsts were still clenched and many were still cursing. "I can see that many of you are…disheartened by this sudden change of events." He swept his hand across the crowd and smiled. "That is understandable."

"Cocksucker!" Elero boomed. Thomas scrambled to cover her mouth but it was too late. The entire crowd turned towards them, even Jackal.

Dag suppressed a chuckle while he and Eugene both stopped Molly from charging after Elero: "You want to go bitch? I will rip your f-"

Jackal clamped a hand over her mouth: "As I was saying, I was Trak in this competition. I bent the rules and pretended to be a commoner." With his every sentence, the crowd grew quieter, although this was not because they were calming down. No, they were the kind of quiet of a broken man sitting at the back of a crowded room with a thousand-yard stare, a heavy glass of alcohol in one hand, and a dagger clenched in the other.

"But this is a time to rejoice!" He held out a hand, fully knowing the thin wire he danced on. Marble and the instructors braced themselves to fend off another rush. "Rejoice, for with this farce of mine, the commoners have been united. It might have only been for a week under a false leader but this is a first in the academy's history." He stepped forward and was struck by dozens moonlit reflections from the crowd's sharp blades, all of which were aimed at his throat.

He swallowed his saliva. "Commoners, not peasants, commoners are looked down upon by us nobles." He held up his mask. "I, before becoming Trak, was one of those nobles. I thought of you commoners as nothing more than scum in my way, as peasants." Just as the pent-up anger was about to be released, and the instructors resigned themselves to holding off a small army, he blurted out. "But now I will give you what I have, what we have all earned as one collective class! I will share the prize with any who follow me from this point onwards! They are worth hundreds if not thousands of gold and will get you equipment that will last you through the academy!" He took some shaky breaths as a bead of sweat went down his forehead.