Anda and The Strongest looked at each other. The Strongest's gold face mask frowned. “You received a message from Assp. What exactly did he say?”

  Anda lowered his head. “I lied to raise the morale of my comrades and frighten our enemies. Assp did not speak to me.”

  He wondered what his punishment would be.

  “Indeed. I believe Assp was speaking through you, Anda, whether you realized it or not. That you defeated a larger armed adversary, and your comrades overcame many obstacles to defeat fifty armed trainees, proves this. However, in the future, do not claim to speak for Assp without first consulting me.”

  “Yes, Most Revered Strongest.”

  “As a new initiate, you may address me as Strongest or Lord Strongest. Join us; we have much to discuss.” The Strongest vanished the same way he'd arrived.

  Anda left the room and found himself in a hall leading to the amphitheater. He'd been resting in the quarters of one of the amphitheater guards.

  Entering the amphitheater, the first thing he noticed was the smell of blood and death. A pyramid of highborn heads rested at the far end of the arena. Next to the heads was a crowd of highborn prisoners, hands bound behind them, guarded by lowborn guards. On the other end of the amphitheater stood The Order, surrounded by a crowd and the surviving highborn trainees. Ex trainees?

  The crowd fell into an awed silence and parted for Anda. His claims that Assp had spoken to him must have had far more impact than he'd thought. He hadn't expected anyone to believe him. The surviving highborn ex-trainees sat or lay on the ground, depending on their condition. Many had broken bones, and they all wore slave collars.

  An ex-trainee highborn looked up at him, eyes filled with desperate pleading. “Water?”

  If the situation had been reversed, the highborn boy would have kicked Anda. Or worse. He kept walking until he reached his fellow trainees. Unlike before, they stood in a line with the members of The Order instead of facing them.

  The Strongest stepped forward. “Now that our youngest initiate has joined us, we may begin.”

  “Please, Strongest, what happened?” It was Bramf.

  “Did someone tell that weak creature he could speak?” Pnatis snapped.

  The Strongest held up his hand. “That's okay, Pnatis. I have a confession to make. Though I have more strength than anyone else in the city, I'm not strong.” His eyes rested on Anda for a second. “Strength is not a thing we can measure or claim; it's an ideal we must strive for. Because of this, the rest of my order and I eat the same food I feed the lowborn trainees and initiates, and we endure the same punishments.” There were shocked gasps from the crowd.

  “You eat your own cooking?” Egidan asked. “You are a braver man than I thought.” There was quiet laughter.

  “The food isn't that bad, is it?” The Strongest asked. There was silence. “When a group of people claim to have something that none can truly have but all should strive for, it means they are weak and corrupt. But it wasn't enough for me to know this. I had to show this city where its strength lay. The people with strength had to come to me and demand that I take action against the weak and corrupt, and they have done so. As The Strongest, I will take over leadership of this city. Every district must choose a leader to represent them, and we will work together to fix the city's problems.”

  “Lord Strongest,” someone shouted. “Does Assp wish the highborn to be burnt?”

  “No. The rot and corruption are not literal things, and neither is the burning. We will kill or enslave the highborn. They may work as slaves to fix the many problems their weakness and corruption created for this city. All highborn bodies will receive a slave's burial.”

  “We're going to need more slave collars,” someone shouted.

  “We will free the lowborn slaves,” The Strongest responded. “They will receive a chance to use their strength to better serve this city.” The crowd cheered.

  “What of those with mixed blood?” someone shouted.

  “There are many in this city with questionable parentage. They are not their parents and may not be persecuted or discriminated against because of this. Those of you who feel otherwise will deal with me.”

  There was silence. He continued. “Those with misguided loyalty to the weak and corrupt highborn are a different matter; they can expect to feel the force of my order's wrath.”

  “Lord Strongest. Assp wishes us to form an army? Our city's security rests on its being in the middle of nowhere. What does Assp expect us to do with an army?”

  “You should know the answer to that. We march onto the lands that cast us out and suggest the people living there return what they stole from us.”

  Stolen story; please report.

  There were many questions, most of which Anda tuned out.

  At the end, The Strongest turned to the eight surviving initiates. “You have ten days of rest to get your affairs in order. Make the most of this time; it will be years before you get more.”

  A pretty girl stood in front of the shrinking crowd, waiting patiently for them to finish.

  The girl must be the singer promised to the most valuable warrior by the highborn. Anda had forgotten about her.

  Pnatis stepped forward to face her. “The proclamation that you were to spend the night with the winner of this fight was made by the corrupt, weak highborn, and you should feel no need to obey it. Nor should you feel you need to sleep with anyone you do not wish to. Should you encounter those who don't respect this, you may come to me.”

  “What about the slaves?” Tesdis asked.

  “What about them?” Pnatis responded. “Do what you like. If they refuse, feel free to beat them. The weak should know their place.”

  The smirking female trainees eyed the ex-trainee slaves. Anda shivered, glad they'd never looked at him like that. It was clear they were planning something horrible.

  The pretty singer looked Egidan over, then stepped forward and spoke. “The weak made that proclamation, but I do not want anyone to think I wished those weak highborn garbage to win the fight. So, I will honor the proclamation and spend the night with the winning fighter!”

  The crowd cheered. Anda suspected the girl believed that getting close to a powerful young warrior like Egidan would improve her life. Perhaps she was right.

  Pnatis laughed. “You're a brave girl. Make sure he takes a bath first.”

  Egidan went to the girl, a big gap-toothed smile on his face. “I believe you misunderstood, my lady. The proclamation said, 'the most valuable fighter.'”

  “You are their strongest fighter. Surely that's you?” she said.

  “I am the strongest fighter, but it was Anda's courage that showed us the highborn were weak and gave us hope.” He led her to Anda. “This is the man you must please tonight.”

  Uh, oh.

  Anda glared at Egidan. “What am I supposed to do with her?” he hissed.

  “So young and innocent,” Egidan said. He pulled out a gold brooch he must have taken from a highborn prisoner and gave it to the girl. “This is from Anda, so you forget how ugly he is.”

  “He is not ugly.”

  Egidan patted Anda's shoulder. “It's working already.”

  She knelt in front of Anda. “Young Lord, what can I do to please you tonight?”

  “I'm so hungry, I could gnaw my arm off,” he responded.

  “Well, tonight I will feed you all you can eat.”

  “And I want my sister to join us.” There was quiet laughter.

  Stitka had been waiting nearby. She stood up.

  The Strongest spoke. “Anda. You should know that the man who struck your sister is to have his offending hand chopped off and fed to him. I trust that will be sufficient punishment for his mistreatment of your sister.”

  That was something else he'd forgotten about—the overseer's abuse of his sister.

  “He should also be made a slave,” Anda said, thinking of how the overseer had humiliated his family over the years.

  “Consider it done.”

  The girl looked over at his sister. “Shall we feed your brother?”

  Stitka looked back and forth between the two with an odd expression on her face. “I suppose we shall.”

  The two girls left the amphitheater with Anda between them.

  ***

  Wow! Jeremy woke with Anda's memory of two girls feeding him his favorite foods until he was about to burst.

  The rest of Anda's memories were less exciting; life before and after that battle was like night and day. The old healer became their slave, but was treated well, as he worked tirelessly to heal the initiates and their families. The next batch of trainees numbered in the thousands, every qualifying young lowborn in the city. The Strongest hadn't been exaggerating when he'd told the initiates it would be years before they got another day off.

  Being a Journeyman Order member appeared to be a better mastery of the same techniques Jeremy had learned as a novice. The Shell of the Sand Monarch spell, which Book had told him about on the third floor, must be part of the master skill book. He'd also learned that the youngest master in The Order was 70 years old.

  Jeremy had a long way to go.

  ***

  Before moving on to the fifth floor, he bought a cheap pack from Banxi to replace the one he'd destroyed fighting the fire dragon, and used the gnome's sewing kit to create a secret pocket on the outside of his pack to stash his bag of holding.

  This would make it a little harder for other adventurers to find his valuables.

  Jeremy killed the last fourth-floor monster, a wolf, and it was time for him to leave, but first, he wandered the floor, marveling at how little the harsh weather bothered him. This floor had been so unpleasant when he'd arrived, but now, with four suns high in the sky, he was almost comfortable. Curious, he found the boulder he'd used to practice punches and strikes, and punched it hard enough to create a loud thud and a cracking noise as the boulder split through the middle.

  “Heads up, Jeremy. We have company,” Flint said.

  Jeremy activated Sneak and approached the entrance. There were three stereotypical dwarf fighters. Short, long beards, heavy armor, the whole bit. To his amusement, the dwarves were looking in the direction he'd been training. They'd must have heard the sounds of his punches and wondered what it was. “Please tell me dwarves don't eat humans.”

  “Depends on the dwarves,” Flint said.

  “We're leaving today, so I guess it doesn't matter.”

  With that, Jeremy left for the fifth floor, feeling ready for anything.