I missed something obvious that Veric had been showing me since the first day we met.

He can be an asshole, but he’s also an extremely intelligent asshole. He runs his mouth, plays his stupid noble routine, lets himself look ridiculous on purpose, and the entire time the man is calculating angles I haven’t even started thinking about.

I’m starting to like him against my own better judgment.

Veric finishes the rest of the potion.

"So, salesman. How does it feel?" I ask through the comm.

"You son of a bitch, Sands. How did you turn a fizzy cola into something that just dumped seven hundred OXI back into me in a couple of mouthfuls?"

"The formula is a trade secret. You know that."

"I was right from day one. From the second I watched you pay the academy entrance fee and bail Miss Vesper out. You aren’t a rat. You’re a raccoon."

"That sounds like a promotion. I’ll take it." I keep my voice warm. "Now focus on your fight. This guy is Rank D, Class Order SS. He will grind you if you stop paying attention."

"Right."

Veric returns his focus to Death’s Lantern.

This time, he changes his stance entirely. The shield goes onto his back. He squares his hips, drops his lead foot, and draws the gladius again. A fencer’s posture. Light on the front leg, weight back on the rear, blade pointing diagonally upward at chest height. Every line of him is suddenly different from the man who was tank-and-shielding ten seconds ago.

"You’re feeling cocky today, Mister Azurea," I say to him, my voice rolling low. "What are you going to invent this time?"

"Just watch, Mister Sands." Veric throws it back over the comm with a mocking lilt.

I don’t know much about the Veric of my last life. Only the broad strokes. I never followed the celebrity columns, and Veric was definitely one of them.

After his father’s death and the loss of the Masters Series corporation and the crown of Thirstfall, he turned his career toward becoming a trench celebrity. He followed in his father’s footsteps and went to the Crevona Trenches.

Only suicides volunteer for Crevona.

I never saw him in combat there because I spent my service rotation in the Abyss Trenches. The Abyss was at least habitable. Crevona is the hell of Thirstfall. Nobody comes back from Crevona unchanged. Most never come back at all.

Veric starts running at Death’s Lantern. Gradually accelerating. This time he’s the one taking the initiative. His face is serious now. Focused. Completely unrecognizable from the man who was theatrically chugging a potion sixty seconds ago.

His posture is contained. His footwork visibly calculated. His body moves only as much as it needs to.

’That wasn’t in my last life. That stance looks more like his father’s. Not his own. A fencer, not a vanguard.’

"Azure Trust!" Veric shouts mid-advance.

’A second skill? How is that possible?’

Every Class Order S has multiple skills. It’s an inherent property of higher-order classes. But I have no memory of Veric having a second skill at all, let alone unlocking it at Rank D.

In the last timeline, he was a one-skill fighter at this stage of his life. Azure Dividends was the entire arsenal. He wouldn’t unlock his second active skill until well after the trench rotation.

Which means something has changed. Either his class is evolving on a different curve in this timeline, or something nudged him into early access to abilities he shouldn’t have yet.

The Arthur Lancaster thread tugs at the back of my mind for a half second before I push it aside. Wrong moment to spiral on that.

Veric accelerates instantly. A speed completely incompatible with his current rank. In the same second, he closes the distance and reappears with his gladius already halfway to Death’s Lantern’s body. The blade aimed at the throat.

’He’s aiming to kill.’

Death’s Lantern’s eyes go wide with shock. He deflects the gladius at the last possible instant with one of his flaming gauntlets, redirecting the strike to his right side. The blade passes a hair’s width from his throat and tears a long rip down the front of his black overcoat.

"You thought you were the only one who could vanish?" Veric mocks him, already connecting a second strike. He pivots, redirecting the rebound of his own deflected sword, and aims for the collarbone this time.

Death’s Lantern recovers from the shock and deflects again with his gauntlets, pushing the gladius upward. The bored, untouchable expression from the start of the fight is gone now. In its place: suppression. Anxiety. Eyes wide, mouth slightly open, breath ragged.

For the first time since he materialized inside the ring, he finally looks like he’s actually inside a fight. The aristocratic detachment has cracked, and the crowd can see it as clearly as I can.

Death’s Lantern probably burned a massive amount of OXI executing The Last Ride. It’s a burst-damage technique, and any burst skill executed without a recovery plan is a double-edged blade.

Veric, on the other hand, took my potion. He’s recovered considerably. Having Veric out for his blood doesn’t do us any favors.

I know Veric chose a fight-to-the-death format for this match, but I have to intervene. Death’s Lantern is a key piece for humanity in the future. Losing him to a bookmaker’s ring in Azure Prime, before he ever makes it to Crevona, is a butterfly-effect rewrite I am not willing to be responsible for.

"Veric. Don’t kill him. Please. Try for a K.O. We need him."

Veric already has his sword telegraphed at Death’s Lantern’s ribs. After the gladius was knocked upward, he rotated the arm and pulled into a lateral cut, using the rebound force of the deflection to amplify the swing. The blade is already on its way through the air, fast, committed, aimed at center mass on the side that wasn’t braced to receive it.

"Ah, shit..."

Veric’s voice through the comm is small. Worry naked in the word.