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PJ B2, Chapter 65
🕑 Added 2025-08-26 02:25:14 +0000 UTCSarah spun in time to see him pinned. She pressed her blade to his cheek. “Stay down,” she said coldly.
She kept her sword pressed to the cheek of the man I had dropped. Her eyes stayed fixed, cold and steady.
“Why her?” she demanded. “Why did you go for her neck?”
The man kept still beneath me. His breath came hard, but he didn’t speak.
“You had dozens of targets,” Sarah pressed. “You ignored them. You came straight for her. Why?”
The fight raged on around us. A spear clattered against a bench two rows down. Someone screamed. A bronze tag rang against the floor, kicked aside in the shuffle.
“Answer me,” Sarah snapped, leaning in closer. Her blade scratched the skin of his neck.
The man’s eyes flicked once toward Sali.
Sali clutched her bow tighter, now aiming at the man.
Mark shifted closer, spear angled down to keep others back. Holt and Dain held their ground, each watching the nearest scuffle for anyone breaking toward us.
She pushed harder, edge drawing a thin red line across his skin. Still, the man said nothing.
The car rocked hard as the train hit a curve.
Then he exhaled a slow, long, breath, and his body began to sink into the ground.
It wasn’t a struggle. His body darkened at the edges, fading like smoke curling into the floorboards. Not even a second and he was gone.
Sarah’s sword struck down at once, but it only marked through the wood.
I lost my footing and hit the floor where the man had been. My claws scraped the floor.
Sarah pulled her blade free from the floor. Splinters clung to the edge, and she shook them loose with a quick snap of her wrist before stepping back to where the rest of us stood. Her eyes swept the ground once more, then the crowd.
“He’s gone,” Mark said, voice clipped, his knuckles white around the spear shaft.
Sarah huffed out of frustration.
The noise around us never slowed, though. Blades struck wood, iron scraped iron, and the smell of blood was sharper now, clinging through the carriage air. Entrants still shoved into each other.
Sarah stepped forward into the aisle. “Stop this!” she shouted, her voice sharp enough to cut across the clang of steel. “All of you, stop! Every strike you throw gives the enemy what they want!”
No one listened. A spear jabbed against a shield and rattled the benches. Someone stumbled backward into the row across from us, clutching at a bleeding arm.
Sarah raised her voice again, even louder. “You’re killing each other, not the one responsible! Enough!”
But the car only grew louder. Her words were swallowed whole, trampled under curses and the sound of weapons hitting wood, shields, and armor alike.
Her jaw tightened. She turned back to us, her eyes flashing with a decision already made. “Nothing else matters now. We focus on keeping who we can alive.”
Mark inclined his head, Holt gave a grunt, and Dain lifted his axe higher in agreement.
Sali sat frozen on the bench, her bow clutched tight across her lap, hands trembling as though she could not decide whether to draw or hold it at another person now that her assailant was gone.
Her breaths came fast and shallow. I pressed against her shin and she eased for only a moment, but her fingers still shook.
Another scream cut through the car. Two men toppled over a bench further down, one dragging the other down with him, their blades scraping against the floor as they fought to get back up. Blood was already pooling around them. Bronze tags rattled loose, one catching under a boot before disappearing into the shuffle of feet.
Sarah scanned the aisle again, this time slower. She pointed with her blade. “Not all of them are fighting. Some are keeping out of this.”
I followed her eyes. Several entrants were pressed into corners or backed against the benches, weapons untouched.
Their faces were pale and their eyes fixed on the chaos with fear that kept them frozen in place.
“They’re not part of it,” Sarah said firmly. “Get them here.”
Mark moved first. He swung his spear sideways, knocking two blades off balance, then stepped through the narrow path the strike had made. He reached a girl crouched against the window, no older, her hands shielding her head.
“Move!” he barked, pointing toward us. She stumbled forward, half-running, half-tripping past the clash of bodies until she reached our compartment. Holt caught her by the arm and dragged her behind the bench, planting her down with a short, sharp “Stay.”
Another entrant crouched lower down the aisle, trying to make himself small behind a seat. Sarah pointed again, blade lifted. “That one next.”
Dain shifted without hesitation. His axe swept low, the blunt side smashing against a shin and forcing an opponent to fall back. He kept the path clear while the man crawled forward on hands and knees, scrambling past swinging feet until he reached the safety of our corner.
One by one, they were pulled in. A mercenary with no stomach for the fight darted through when Holt shoved a man aside, her hands clutching to the tag on her chest. Another, an older fighter with a bent back, shuffled close after Mark’s spear forced space.
Not all responded. Some stayed where they were, frozen in fear, unwilling to risk the crossing. Others shook their heads outright, refusing to move from their spots even as the fighting closed in around them.
By the time they had gathered six more, our compartment was full.
“Stay low,” Sarah commanded the newcomers, her voice commanding. “Don’t move unless anyone reaches for your tag.”
They nodded quickly.
The rest of the car continued to fight, albeit a bit less noisy.
The benches shuddered again as two men slammed into them, blades flashing.
The frightened entrants behind us pressed together, their faces pale. One of them whimpered when another scream rose from the far end.
Mark leaned closer, voice low enough that only we could hear. “Where are they? The Guild should have stopped this already.”
Sarah’s jaw tightened. “They’re late. Far too late.”
Holt growled in his throat. “If they were coming, they’d already be here.”
Then, the train stopped. We had finally arrived at the Adventurer’s Guild..
For some reason, everything fell silent all of a sudden, and every entrant in the car stopped mid-motion, almost as if they were stopped in time. A man’s sword hovered half an inch from another’s chest, his face twisted in rage that no longer moved.
Tap. Tap.
Then came the footsteps.
Slow, steady; each step came from the vestibule after opening the door.
A man walked in wearing the Adventurer Guild’s crest, cloak sweeping the floor as he moved forward. His boots shone with careful polish, his posture upright. In one hand, he held a silver pendant, turning it idly between his fingers.
His eyes swept the car once, then he rubbed his thumb across the face of the pendant.
The frozen entrants dissolved.
The man with the sword faded first, breaking apart into wisps of shadow that curled and lifted into nothing. The hammer and shield blinked out a heartbeat later. One by one, the illusions vanished, some with a faint ripple, others simply gone.
The aisle cleared in moments, leaving behind only the benches, the boards, and the handful of us who were real.
The ones Duramark’s entrants had been protecting had all vanished.
Sarah lowered her sword a fraction, though her eyes never left the Guild official.
The man tucked the pendant back under his cloak. His gaze lingered on us, measuring, before it turned toward the far end of the car.
I followed his eyes. Another group of five stood clustered together, weapons still in hand. At their head was the young adventurer who had drawn steel first, his sword shaking slightly though his chin was lifted as if in defiance. His companions looked rattled, but alive.
The Guild man walked further down the aisle, boots ringing against the boards in the silence.
His presence pressed against the air, heavier than the illusions had been. He stopped at the midpoint, turning his gaze from one end of the car to the other, ensuring all eyes were on him before he finally spoke.
“The examination began the moment you left Duramark,” he said. His voice carried easily, calm and firm. “What you have faced here was no accident. You have been observed.”
Sarah kept her blade in hand, though the point dropped toward the floor. “I see,” she said evenly.
The Guild official didn’t answer her directly. Instead, he tapped the pendant he was holding again, and a faint glow pulsed into it. The last traces of shadow peeled away. Even the bloodstains on the floor disappeared, along with the tags that had fallen loose. The entire car was clean again, as though nothing had ever happened.
There were only two groups in this car.
The Guild man’s gaze swept between us and the young adventurer’s team.”
The official then turned away, folding his hands behind his back. “Your results will be judged in full once you reach the guildhouse.”
And with that, he started walking toward the next car.
****
After alighting from the train, we were quickly guided to a carriage that took us someplace else.
The carriage rattled through the streets until it finally stopped in front of the Adventurer Guild’s guildhouse. The stone hall loomed tall, banners stretched from its walls, and its gates were already open for the day. We stepped down stiffly, still unsure what the criteria for passing the examinations was.
Inside, long tables had been cleared, and guild staff in formal colors guided the entrants to separate lines. Clerics moved among the crowd, checking for wounds and offering water.
Our group was pulled into one of the smaller halls. There, a man in a decorated cloak waited, flanked by two scribes and another guild official. A stack of papers sat on the table in front of them.
“Here are your results,” the cloaked man said. “This was your examination. Every step since you boarded the train has been observed. Your actions were noted, and most importantly, your ability to keep hold of the badge that marks you as a contender.”
The scribe held a paper and read aloud. “Compartment B. Group one.” He looked at the young adventurer’s team, the one who had drawn steel first. “Aggression, escalation, and unsanctioned killing without provocation. Fail.”
The young adventurer’s head snapped up, his jaw clenching. His team looked at him in silence, none speaking.
The second paper was picked up. “Compartment B. Group two,” the scribe read. His eyes swept over Sarah, Mark, Holt, Dain, Sali, and finally me. “Performance, strong. Maintained discipline despite pressure. Cooperated and protected others, as well as maintained an adventurer’s values throughout the entire ordeal until official arrival.” He paused. “However—
“Entrant Sali: performance weak. Minimal action taken. No notable contribution to de-escalation or protection.”
Her shoulders sank. Her lips parted, but no sound came out.
“Additionally,” the scribe continued, “Tag lost. Losing your tag does not necessarily mean disqualification, but it remains a high priority as it is the majority of your points. According to the tally, you have failed.”
Silence fell over the room.
Sarah’s jaw set, but she didn’t speak. Mark’s head lowered slightly, though his eyes narrowed in frustration. Holt grunted, shaking his head. Dain shifted once, silent as ever.
Sali pressed her hands together while still carrying me, her fingers were shaking. She looked at the floor with a blank face.
I squeak-barked once.
All eyes turned towards me.
And then, I spat Sali’s bronze tag from my mouth.
It clattered onto the floor at Sali’s feet.
She gasped, hand flying to her lips, nearly dropping me from the surprise. The tag glimmered faintly in the lantern light.
The hall was silent for a long moment. Then the cloaked official stepped forward. He bent, picked up the tag, and weighed it in his hand. His eyes studied it carefully, then lifted to Sali.
“Your badge was returned intact,” he said at last. “Mark her as passed.”
The scribe hesitated, then wrote swiftly across the paper.
The official straightened. “Your first test is complete. Remember this: every moment is watched. Every choice weighs against you. To those who have lost their tags but still passed, you will be issued new ones. This time, keep your tags close, for without them, you will no longer be considered to be part of the tournament.”
