It had been two days since Vale heard the news, and Fell was still angry. Vale could hear it clearly in the reports, Fell was furious at the team leader of Team 34. He had shrugged and said, "Now I have to kill him too."
"Are you talking about Senk?" Stowig, the team leader of Rank 9, asked him.
The two of them had been walking along a hallway, their footsteps muted by the thick carpet on the ground. Fell, the team leader of Rank 3, was a tall man with an aged face, even though he was still in his twenties.
"You know who I’m talking about, Stowig. Don’t add to my irritation," Fell said, his voice hard. "Everyone keeps irritating me nowadays—same with that outlaw that lost a lot of my goods the other day."
They came to the end of the hallway, and Stowig quickly opened the door for them. The room they entered was almost like a hall. Five chairs were arranged in a circle, with another five around the first set, making a total of ten.
The meaning was instantly clear. It might be called the Ten, but those who actually made the rules were the five. That was why each Flag always made sure they had teams in the top five.
As usual, Fell had been the last to arrive, and all eyes turned to him. He ignored them all as his gaze fell on one person—Dlodus. Vale had heard that Fell wanted to know whether Dlodus was the one who had pushed him into this mess.
But Dlodus was unreadable as always, wearing that soft smile. Fell eventually made his way to his seat, with Stowig sitting behind him.
Then a bored female voice spoke. "Good, we can begin. What do we have for today? Fell, you called this meeting."
The woman was Alyndra, the Rank 1 team leader of the CrimsonHood. Her hair was dark as night, her eyes darker still, with a piercing gaze. Beside her chair rested a sword almost as tall as she was.
Fell nodded. "Dlodus, explain what you have the member of your Flag doing."
"Ohhh! Today’s going to be good!" a voice hiccupped.
It belonged to Serdan, Rank 4 of the Exiled—a woman so short her chair had to be customized.
"Don’t tell me you’re drunk again, Serdan!" hissed the Rank 8 leader of the same Flag, sitting behind her.
"Offfff... of course not! Why would I drink when an important show’s about to start?" Serdan said. "An unknown guy just beat the last of Scuffed Bones’ teams, and now Fell looks like something nasty is stuck in his throat.
"Dlodus here doesn’t really know anything... I hope so. It’ll only make it more interesting! Either way you look at it, the Scuffed Bones got hit pretty badly this time."
She hiccupped again and smiled.
No one responded. From the reports, everyone acted as if they didn’t hear her, all of them watching Fell instead.
Fell’s face hardened so tightly it looked ready to crack. He glared at Serdan, but she only shrugged and gave him a silly smile.
"Dlodus," Fell said, his voice sounding like metal being ground down. "Answer my question."
Dlodus smiled easily. He’d known this was coming. There was no reason to hide anything. "He’s not a member of any team in our SteelClaw Alliance Flag. From my investigation, he’s new to the second layer and keeps talking about creating a new team."
Fell had already done his own investigation. He knew it was true—but that didn’t mean Dlodus hadn’t played a role. "He’s still a member of your Flag," Fell said. "And in the second layer, that makes him your responsibility."
Dlodus looked at him, his eyes flat, lightning seeming to churn beneath them. "You want to claim a single man beating Team 34 is my responsibility?"
Fell twitched. From what Vale was told, he looked like he wanted to strangle something. Darkness stirred in his eyes before he forced himself to relax. "Of course not. This is about Vale. The reason I called this meeting is to discuss what we’re going to do now."
No one else spoke. They were enjoying the spectacle.
Even though everyone already knew the story, Fell explained it anyway. "...now the team has been chased out of their base."
Serdan snorted. "That’s shameful. What do you mean a single man does that? Then they don’t deserve to be a team. Their leader’s a weakling. What’s there to talk about?"
Silence followed, thick with tension, all eyes turning to Fell. He struggled internally. Vale understood why—rules or not, being trampled still stung.
Then Fell’s expression calmed. "What I want to know is what will happen to Vale. It wasn’t an official duel. Are we really going to allow him to do whatever he wants?"
Alyndra leaned back. "Interesting question. Vale isn’t an official second-layer fighter, but he defeated a team leader. What should we do? Make him official?"
"No!" Dlodus and Fell said at the same time.
They paused, glanced at each other, then turned back to Alyndra.
Dlodus cleared his throat. "If we do that, won’t everyone start attacking teams? The outlaws will come out and do as they please."
"The outlaws..." Alyndra’s expression darkened.
"This will weaken our rules," Fell said. "We should crush him now."
Dlodus winced, but nodded.
Then another voice rumbled through the room. It was Manefor, Rank 5 of the Forsaken Tribes. "Why throw away a useful tool? Maybe Team 34 isn’t weak. Maybe he’s just strong."
Alyndra smiled slightly. "And what do you suggest?"
"A test. See if he’s really that strong. If he dies, good. If he survives, then you decide what to do next. The Borderland demands we fight with the strong, not against them."
Alyndra’s hand rested on her sword—the sign she’d made up her mind. "I’ll propose this. Test him, as Manefor says. We’ll see if he’s real or fake. We’ll continue this meeting afterward."
She stood, then paused. "Ah, I almost forgot. Do you all agree?"
They nodded. Vale was told Fell’s face twisted into a grimace.
Alyndra turned to Manefor. "Why don’t you carry out the test? Send someone from your Flag. Tell him I’ll agree to a meeting if he wins."