"We are the Bloodthrone Rebellion," Brask declared, his voice dripping with grandiose self-importance.
Roy couldn't resist a scoff. "Oh, I see, you can get even edgier. Impressive."
Unbothered, Brask motioned proudly to his team. "Allow me to reintroduce my companions. I myself am now known as Otherworld King Brask." He paused dramatically, expecting awe but receiving only bored silence. Undeterred, he continued with exaggerated flair, "Beside me is my second-in-command, Greg Smith."
Roy stared blankly for a second before cracking a bemused grin. "Greg? Why not change that absurdly bland name?"
Greg calmly met Roy's gaze, unamused. "I was named after my grandfather. I wouldn't dare imply another name is better."
"Touché," Roy admitted.
Brask, growing impatient, gestured again. "Then there's Morileth, the master tactician and strategist behind our victories."
Morileth inclined her head slightly, her eyes flickering briefly toward Brask, though he clearly took no notice of her.
"Belaris, our most brutal fighter, The guildmaster in the Kaigun Dominion say he is a one in a thousand year talent," Brask continued, nodding toward the hulking warrior whose wild grin spoke of barely-restrained violence. "Rozhen, the stealth assassin who can vanish into shadows at will," he added.
The silent figure merely offered a mocking salute.
"And finally, Korrvein, who you know as Corvvy, the mage whose brilliance borders on madness, and whose talents delve into the forbidden," Brask finished.
Korrvein inclined his head politely, though his dark eyes glittered with concealed malice.
Roy eyed each member carefully, noting the subtle shift in their demeanor as plates of food were elegantly placed before them by the time-magic chefs. Though the rebels tried valiantly to maintain a facade of indifference and toughness, Roy noticed the cracks forming in their expressions, a suppressed groan of pleasure here, a quickly-stifled sigh of delight there.
Brask took a cautious bite, trying hard to conceal the explosion of flavor, but Roy caught the faint twitch of his lips. Korrvein, despite his carefully maintained coldness, emitted a barely audible moan before swiftly clearing his throat, eyes darting suspiciously around the table. Roy suppressed his grin as he savored their discomfort.
As the meal continued, Kaelor hesitated, turning uncertainly toward Roy. "Captain, am I allowed to eat too, or should I just...?"
Roy waved dismissively. "Go ahead, Kaelor. You're out here with us, feel free."
Kaelor eagerly reached for a plate, awkwardly piling food onto it. He paused, staring blankly down at his own abdomen, slowly pressing the food against his stomach before looking around in confusion. Suddenly remembering the unfamiliar regular human mouth he now possessed, he carefully lifted a morsel up to his face, gingerly placing it into his mouth and chewing tentatively.
Kaelor's expression shifted into bewilderment. "This is, without question, the weirdest thing I've ever done."
Korrvein, watching with thinly veiled contempt, called out dryly, "Roy, is your friend slow or something? Has he never eaten food before?"
Roy smirked and shrugged casually. "You know exactly how I like my friends: tall, dumb, idiotic, and strong as hell."
From a few seats away, Eryndra suddenly chimed in with exaggerated enthusiasm, raising her hand proudly. "Just like me!"
Roy groaned quietly, burying his face in his hand as embarrassment washed over him.
Roy felt tension twist faintly in his chest, aware of the delicate line he was walking between friendly camaraderie and the dangerous confrontation that loomed ahead.
Finally, Brask leaned forward, attempting to regain control of the situation. "So...what is it you truly want, Roy?"
"I mean you no real harm," Roy replied, spreading his hands openly. "I propose we settle this differently. How about a series of friendly duels? That way you keep your status with the Kaigun Dominion and I teach you what power is while sparing your life."
"Oh? I love the spine you have grown, I can't wait to hear it snap," Brask said with a smile.
"Six one-on-one matches. No armies, no tricks. Just us. And since the whole battleship and crew is my unfair equipment, I'll split it up, to give you a chance," Roy taunted.
Brask narrowed his eyes thoughtfully, then gave a sly smile. "And your suggested matchups?"
Roy leaned forward eagerly. "Morileth will face Lutrian. Belaris against Warrex." At this, Kaelor let out a deep sigh of disappointment, muttering something about desperately wanting that fight himself. Roy ignored him, continuing, "Rozhen can take on six of my Presidroids, Teddy, Lincoln, Washington, Eisenhower, Jefferson, and Grant."
Rozhen chuckled derisively, clearly unimpressed, though a hint of curiosity flickered briefly in his expression.
Roy smirked confidently at Greg. "Greg Smith and I can have ourselves a ping pong match. You beat me in the National finals last year, and I've been itching for a rematch."
Greg's lips curled into a faint, humorless smile. "I look forward to it."
Roy nodded approvingly before continuing, "Korrvein, you'll be matched against Eryndra."
Korrvein inclined his head respectfully, eyes flashing with intrigue as Eryndra returned a fierce grin.
"And finally," Roy said decisively, meeting Brask's arrogant stare, "you'll face Zehrina."
Brask snorted lightly, amused. "Keepers girl? I accept your proposal."
Takara surged forward, clearly frustrated. "Why aren't I included?" she demanded sharply.
Kaelor, standing behind her, whispered mournfully, "Same…"
Roy gave Takara a patient look. "Because, I know your brother over there wouldn't agree otherwise."
Takara glared irritably at Brask. "He's just a step-brother. Let me fight!"
Brask interjected coldly, "Enough, Takara. Our sister Phima would skin me alive if we hurt you. Go join her and stay out of this."
Warrex grinned reassuringly at Takara. "Don't worry, I'll gladly fight you afterward."
Takara's eyes pleaded silently with Roy, but before Roy could answer, Brask held up his hand calmly. "How about this, Roy: first a friendly spar. Let's fulfill Takara's desire before we begin properly."
Takara hesitated briefly, then nodded, positioning herself confidently in the center of the clearing. Morileth stepped forward to meet her, poised and calm, though her gaze bore subtle contempt.
Without further delay, Takara rushed forward. Her fists flew swiftly, but Morileth smoothly deflected each strike, appearing nearly effortless. Their exchange rapidly intensified, blows traded back and forth at blinding speed, neither gaining ground nor relenting.
Takara stepped back, swiftly layering runes onto her gauntlets with deft fingers. Satisfied, she lunged again, slipping a powerful uppercut past Morileth's guard. Blood trickled from Morileth's lip, her calm mask shattering into raw anger.
Morileth's counterattack came immediately, a wild hook thrown with blurring speed. Takara's eyes widened, realizing too late she couldn't dodge in time.
Warrex's massive fist appeared suddenly, intercepting the punch inches from Takara's face. He locked eyes coldly with Morileth, a dangerous smile spreading across his lips. "Why don't we just get started?"