Codename: Freedom - Book 5 - Chapter 17

I was having breakfast on the last day of the convention with Kline, Mel, Barrell, and Hwan when it was announced. We were inhaling large amounts of eggs and bacon in the Deltas Room. Everyone’s military issued headset went off at the same time.

Before I could even read the message, Destiny purple orb appeared in the middle of the table with a miniature version of the blond AI in military garb. She crossed her arms, reporting, “It’s exactly what we thought. They’ve chosen two events to make Prodos look bad. The first will be a race. The top 10,000 ranked Vanguard participants will be shipped to different tracks throughout the city where they’ll run a single 400-meter lap. The top competitors will receive Simulation Points.

“As for the second competition, the top 10,000 ranked Vanguard participants will take turns hitting a device with their most powerful attack. Each will receive three tries.”

Barrell leaned forward, asking, “Can we use weapons?”

“Yes,” my AI confirmed with a nod of finality. “You have an hour before you start loading the busses.”

There wasn’t a moment’s delay before Victoria worried voice sounded in my ear. “They want to make our top 3 position look meaningless.”

“They’ll also make us the clear underdog,” I responded.

“That’s true…”

“Have the last few days been difficult?”

“No, actually. Now that I’ve gotten to get to know many of the Colonels, I’m more confident in Earth’s chances. But if we don’t place well in the next quarterly event—”

“I know. Victoria, we need this. Today won’t just be a bit humbling for us, but it will also provide us with information. We’ll learn how many rank D psionic users each battalion has, and how many are getting close. We’ll see who has special techniques and what they are. Maybe they really do want to make us look bad, but they’re also doing us a favor.”

“You’re right. Thanks, Lucius.”

***

The construction of the track of the local university I was bussed to had a concrete foundation which would work well with my Push ability. Because of my ranking, those I’d arrived with were only the best in Vanguard. It wasn’t limited to the Champions group. They had to get all of the Rank D participants in one place. There were about three hundred of us.

Generally, I’d be looking for a way to win, but this wasn’t a fight with countless variables. This was a race on an oval track. Maybe if the track was straight and I could reach my top speed. The math didn’t work.

The seven other soldiers I lined up with all had rank D psionics. Of course, they did. Brendon Black and Ebrima Okoro were a part of the group. Brendon was sneering at the rest of the group. He was thickly built despite his compact size. In a t-shirt and running shorts, he looked far more impressive than he did in his ballistic suit.

Ebrima was a specimen. His height elongated his muscles which made the massive sinews of his quads look inhuman. Chest to back, he was as thick as Brendon, but he had a slender frame which emphasized the most epic v-taper from his side lats to his waist that I’d ever seen.

Then there was me. I wasn’t small, though I didn’t seem to belong. I looked like a young man who was allowed to participate with these veterans out of kindness and not because I had earned it.

Glancing up, I asked Destiny in hushed tones, “Would launching myself at an upward angle and using gravity on my decent to gain speed while using wind walk give me a boost?”

She replied, “If the race started on a straight, it would, but because you’ll be starting on the curve, it will do just the opposite.”

“So there’s no techniques you can think of that might give me a little more speed?”

“Nothing worth trying in the middle of a race. Sorry, Lucius.”

“It’s okay, Big Sister Dronehead.”

Just like with ancient Olympians, we lined up at the line. I felt the rank D psionic auras press into me from both sides. It looked like none of them would be trying special movement techniques. They didn’t have to.

The gun went off.

My start was almost as perfect as I could make it. Othisi launched me into a forward lean as I hovered just over the ground, rapidly picking up pace. For the first few strides I was right there with them.

It wasn’t just one of them that started pulling away. Some of them had bound strides. Others chose smaller steps as they got up to speed. Their limbs blurred like angry green energy strobes.

As we came out of the first corner, I was in dead last. The straight allowed for me to reach for my top speed. At the same time, my opponents exerted power that baffled the mind.

I remained on their tails, even catching up to the last person. The next curve came too quickly. I had to slow, control my thrust not to skid into the next lane. By the time I had reached the next curve, the frontrunning Ebrima Okoro was already halfway down the straight.

I was on the tail of the second to last place runner when I finished. Our times more closely resembled those of race cars instead of humans.

With a sigh, I walked over to Ebrima and congratulated him. He was as gracious as always, but Brendon could help himself. He muttered under his breath as he joined us, “Vanguard is over for you. Move along so the real soldiers can work.”

Despite knowing he’d likely say something, it still grated at me. I remained silent. There was one way I to get back at him. We’d have to beat them in the next event.

Brendon strolled away as if he had gotten first instead of third.

I watched as Ebrima’s jaw flexed as he watched the man go. It was the first sign of anger I’d ever seen from him. At least toward another participant.

Once the day was over, I had gotten the 91st fastest time. It didn’t surprise me that Mel had even surpassed me even if it was only by a tenth of a second. He was 90th. He was much closer to rank D.

Our ranking proved how useful the technique was. The Real Major, who would likely break into rank D any day, had placed 111th.

With all things considered, it went exactly as I anticipated.

***

We were provided lunch after we were bussed back to the convention center. It was early afternoon when we were ushered to a side entrance of the convention center where a large segment of parking lot was blocked off. The device that would be measuring our attacks was as long as a bus. On one end, there was a black boulder-like attachment that moved like a living creature.

“It’s like self-healing concrete,” Destiny informed. “However, the substance is more closely akin to bone. Despite it moving like its breathing, it’s a solid slab of the substance covered inside and out in bacteria. Don’t worry, it’s harmless to humans. You hit the big black rock and it repairs itself in seconds.”

Mel and I were sticking together since we were still with the Champions group. What was different about this event from the last one was that there were Metacasters lined up on both sides. I held up my hand when I saw Mia and Oren.

The pink haired girl turned to the side and kicked her foot toward her backside while waving it such a way that it also looked like she was framing her face with her hand. She was wearing a knee-length skirt with leggings and a long-sleeved blouse. The schoolgirl outfit made her look far younger than she really was.

The tall blond LeLisa was standing nearby with just the opposite problem. She was wearing what looked like a Victoria gown with too much cleavage. It wasn’t completely inappropriate, but the fact that they were next to each other just made them an odd couple of friends.

As Mel and I lined up with the other top 100, we conversed in hushed tones through our headsets.

“So no Falling Spear?” Mel asked. It was the name we’d given the technique where we basically dived from and aimed a spear into whatever it was, we were attacking below.

“Yeah, I think saving it for the event is for the best,” I replied.

“You’re probably right. I’ll just have to get a fresh measurement on my overcharged bolt.”

I nudged him with my shoulder.

He gave a Kline-inspired grin. When it came to casting, it was one of the few arenas in which he lacked no confidence.

This event would be far more interesting than the last. A person’s rank meant a lot, but skill and technique would come into play even more.

The Real Major was given the honor of starting us out. Stepping up to the self-repairing boulder, he was once again dressed in his ballistic suit which could likely fit three of me. He wasn’t rank D yet, but it didn’t matter. His overcharge weapon enhancement ability was considered to be one of the most powerful, if not the most powerful ability in Vanguard.

Instead of unsheathing the gladius styled short sword on his hip, a shadow drone swooped in from above and delivered to him a custom weapon. I almost started laughing. It had a curved blade like a katana except it was substantially longer with a larger blade. It was like an overlarge Odachi, or large Japanese long sword. In the simplest terms, it was a massive, two-handed sword made for cutting.

Mel snorted. “What does he want to do? Cut the Manticore King in two with one slash?”

“Well, it looks like Kline isn’t the only one delving into the realm the ridiculous,” I said, thinking about his psionically powered poleaxes.

“This should be expected,” Destiny scolded. “Even steel has its limitations. The thicker spine is necessary to handle the abuse strong psionic users can cause to a blade.”

“Yeah. Yeah. He’s just showing off,” I jested despite knowing what she said was true.

The Real Major’s silver rank E aura billowed off of him as he took the sword in two hands. With the massive sword held low and behind him, he flashed forward in a sideways stance. Only when he swung and his shoulder and hip followed did his aura drop and the psionic energy gushed into his blade.

It connected high, just over his head as the blade slashed in a downward arch. The boulder’s resistance was only enough to bring it to a stop right above his waist.

I blinked several times as if not willing to believe my eyes. Then he took his second try on the already restored boulder and cut even further. On his final try, his sword reached down to the top of his knee. The man really could cut the Manticore King in half with a single blow.

Then the grading system was revealed. It didn’t just measure how the attack would do against rank D level physical armor but also graded it as if the boulder had been covered in psionic shielding.

The grading went as follows.

Psionic Shielding

Rank D – Low – Levels 1-32

Rank D – Medium – Levels 33-65

Rank D – High – Levels 66-99

There was such a substantial difference between the levels that it was necessary to distinguish. The Physical Armor followed the same grading structure.

Physical Armor

Rank D – Low – Levels 1-32

Rank D – Medium – Levels 33-65

Rank D – High – Levels 66-99

The Manticore King hadn’t possessed any Psionic Shielding and had possessed Low Level, Rank D Physical Armor. So even if we’d killed what was considered a rank D monster in the last event, it was at the lowest possible level.

When the Real Major’s rating showed up on a screen above the boulder in green font over black, a murmur rose up from the crowd. His most powerful attack was rated at piercing Rank D Medium Psionic Shielding over Rank D Low Physical Armor. So he hadn’t just cleaved through one layer, but two. More than that, his initial attack had made it through medium rank D shielding. That means he was almost at a level where he could kill a medium rank D psionic user with ease. Our physiques were impressive, but even with ballistic suits they weren’t equivalent to rank D Physical Armor. At least, I didn’t think so. I asked Destiny.

“Even though a rank D user might be able to survive a blow that broke through their psionic shield, the ballistic suits aren’t capable of handling many without breaking down. At most, someone might be able to stop a handful of blows. Unless you turned his blade, you’re not currently capable of blocking an empowered strike from Major Wright.”

That’s what I feared.

Several top talents without the same level of fame as the Real Major that had reached Rank D went next. Not all of them had unlocked many psionic notes. Those with their strengthening aura as their only offensive ability were rated at piercing Low Level Psionic Shielding, but they couldn’t breech the second layer of rank D armor. Instead, they received a Physical Armor rating of Rank C Medium to High.

Those that had unlocked Akonizo, or weapon bolstering, were a step ahead of them. They were able to pierce both the psionic and physical layers at Low Level Rank D. It really went to show how impressive the Real Major’s overcharge ability really was.

Only one of the rank D psionic participants relied on his bolts for the contest. Even from point blank range, he was rated at beating Low Level Rank D Shielding and only Medium Level Rank C Armor.

That didn’t speak well for Mel, but my friend wasn’t deterred. It seemed whoever was in charge wanted to use this as an opportunity to put him in his place. As soon as the rank D caster had gone, Mel was called.

He was a clean-shaven young man with a dirty blond Ceaser cut and likely had the least developed physique out of anyone there. That didn’t mean he looked small. There was little doubt as to why Olivia was with him besides the kindness he’d shown her when she’d needed it the most. He was pretty enough to be a male model if fighting aliens didn’t work out. I kept my chuckle to myself. He needed to focus.

Mel didn’t use a fancy approach. Walking up to the obsidian boulder, he placed his hand to get a feel for its surface. He gave it a pat and took a step back. Holding up his hand, he looked away from his target and scanned the crowd. Then he smiled as if having his picture taken.

My grin at seeing what he was doing was even larger. He’d come a long way.

Psionic energy pooled at his palm. The silver glow was already intense as if nearing the next rank. It was only visible for an instant. The moment he cast his spell, the overflow of psionic energy collapsed in on itself. Green light cascaded over the immediate area before it leaped from his hand to the surface of the boulder. There was a smacking sound that was almost too underwhelming except for the chest-sized cavity that opened up on its surface.

His rating appeared on the panel above the device.

Psionic Shielding

Medium Level Rank D

Physical Armor

Low Level Rank D

With a nod to himself, his grin fell from his face. He stood there for a long moment before announcing. “That’s enough.”

He then left after only using one of his three attempts.

As he returned to stand next to me, I pursed my lips as I struggled to keep myself from cackling. He’d tied the Real Major’s record while only using a Psionic Bolt. The fact that he was still only high-level rank E made it that much better.

Mel and the Real Major weren’t the last ones to defeat medium level shielding and low-level armor. Ebrima didn’t even have weapon bolstering. With nothing but his rank D aura and seven-foot frame, he tied their record with the thrust of his spear.

When it was finally Brendon Black’s turn, he showed why he was more than rank D psionics and a bad attitude. He was the first one today to use a true layering technique he’d developed on his own. Except, instead of doing it through his fist, he used a war hammer. It was more like a sledge with one flat hammer and the other with two thick spikes in parallel.

Unlike Isamu, I wasn’t able to cast the condensed energy of weapon bolstering from my fist as he did from his sword. I had to add the step of push to launch it before pounding it home with shielding energy. Brendon was like Isamu in that he could naturally cast the bolstering energy that was much thicker than any psionic bolt. Only he didn’t just send out an arch with his hammer. He cast it before following it up with another layer of bolstering energy.

The reason I always finished my Dragon Slayer technique with shielding energy was because my fist was no blade. It wasn’t made of steel or something of equal durability. So where I hammered home a nail of bolstering energy, Brendon nailed in a nail with another nail. It wasn’t quite at the level of a true overcharge technique, but as a genuine rank D psionic user with an advanced technique, the collision of his hammer against the boulder let out a giant pop.

Psionic Shielding

Medium Level Rank D

Physical Armor

Medium Level Rank D

On his first attempt, he set a new record.

As soon as he turned and his eyes rested on me, I knew the Game Devs wouldn’t be able to help themselves. I was called next.

I heard cheering and found Mia and LeLisa jumping up and down as they yelled. I smiled even though I knew I wouldn’t live up to their standards. My technique had improved, but I was still just a high-medium leveled rank E psionics user. I didn’t have the same tools to work with as the rest of them. That wasn’t the true goal though. I didn’t need to be able to cause as much damage as they did. I needed to be able to cause enough damage to defeat them in a fight.

Walking up to the boulder, I took a basic stance. I didn’t remove my sword or equip any weapon. It was only of the simplest techniques in any boxer’s arsenal. Without any delay, I threw a right cross. Silver energy solidified over my middle knuckle. The flow of psionic energy had become second nature after I’d practiced this technique tens of thousands of times. The highly condensed energy was propelled from my incoming fist. Shielding energy followed, slamming into it.

All that was left on the boulders surface was the slight shape of a fist with a small hole near the middle knuckle.

Stepping back, I looked up to see my ranting.

Psionic Shielding

Medium Level Rank D

Physical Armor

Medium Level Rank E

Besides a small murmur, there was a hush to the crowd. It was plenty to kill the Manticore King that had given me suck problems but compared to the others that had gone so far, it was on the lower end. Ignoring them, I nodded to myself.

A voice called out. “You have two more tries.”

The crowd remained on the quiet side as I stepped back. I then began taking off my shoes. Despite the psionic friendly material they were made out of, they still offered a little resistance.

The murmur grew.

Once again, I kept it simple. Because I hadn’t used more than front and shin kicks in Freedom, I’d had to drill this technique excessively over the last three or four months. Training the muscles were necessary before I could really make use of Dragon Slayer.

Technically, it could work with front kicks depending on the part of the foot I struck with, but shin kicks would require a different technique. I found just covering my legs in shielding energy was the best. Especially if my target was something armored or as hard as this boulder.

There’s certainly a tight spinning motion used in a spinning back kick, but when done right there’s a snapping turn of the hips the flows into the snap of the kick. Not only did it allow me to strike with my heel which allowed for the Dragon Slayer technique, but it also allowed for me to do it from a stand still.

Without any more delay, I turned my hips and slammed my heel into the boulder as if trying to break it in two.

Even then, the indentation of my heel was only incrementally deeper than that of my fist. The hole I had made was slightly larger. The true test would be how deeply I penetrated.

Looking up, I noticed the silence of the crowd as we waited for the rating.

Psionic Shielding

Medium Level Rank D

Physical Armor

High Level Rank E

I was about even with the average rank D participant that didn’t have any special abilities. This was the reality of psionic combat. Weapons on their own could give someone many advantages, but unless you had an abnormal weapon bolstering ability, to get the most out of psionics you had to develop psionics on their own. They weren’t just a supplement to a weapon. They were the weapon.

This time several people from the crowd clapped when they saw the higher rating. Mia and LeLisa cried out.

I asked Destiny under my breath, “Would that kill a rank D Psionic user?”

“Outright, no. A well placed blow would injure them, however. It would take several to kill someone with rank D psionic shielding unless you hit them just right.”

“Then let’s add some momentum.”

I’d tested it enough to know the limit of how quickly my psionics could move through my body in even the most efficient channels.

Pushing myself off the ground to hover about two feet in the air, I moved back a good twenty yards.

As soon as I was notified that the boulder was ready, I cut the propelling energy from my feet just long enough for me to feel the ground beneath me. Then I released the building energy, which rocketed me forward at a low angle. Reaching back, I cycled energy into my arm. Akonizo solidified over my knuckle.

I didn’t take my eyes off my target as I descended. My speed was quick, but it was also controlled. Whipping my fist forward, Dragon Slayer landed with a resounding thud.

“How was that?” I asked Destiny before my rating appeared.

“That would do as long as it landed on the head or hit major organs.”

My rating registered.

Psionic Shielding

Low Level Rank D

Physical Armor

Low Level Rank D

That would do. So now if I fought the Manticore King even if it had low level Rank D psionics, I could jump from the ceiling to its back and actually hurt it. It also proved something else. A rank D participant could just stand there and take my attacks. I could injure and even kill them. As difficult as that might be.

Once I’d left the stage, the event continued. Mel and I stayed, joining the crowd behind the Metacasters where we got high fives from Mia, LeLisa and a few others that went along with Mia’s vibe.

There were a lot of people, and this wasn’t the only device for measuring the strength of attacks, but we had friends who were up soon enough. We planned on cheering them on.

Kline decided against using the psionic powered poleaxe and instead used a normal one. His psionics were lower than mine, but he simply produced too much power.

Psionic Shielding

Low Level Rank D

Physical Armor

Medium Level Rank E

Instead of using the axe blade, he’d used the spike opposite it. It was enough to puncture the Manticore King’s hide.

Barrell never used a poleaxe, but he was a great spear wielder. He got a running start and made full use of his extended weapon bolstering ability.

Psionic Shielding

Low Level Rank D

Physical Armor

Low Level Rank E

Only being able to surpass the first layer of Rank D shielding might seem insignificant, but that was only compared to the top rank Vanguard participants. Once all the rank D psionic users had gone, just defeating Low Level Rank D Psionic Shielding was quite the feat. Most couldn’t get past High Level Rank E.

There were those that defied their psionic rank. Cornelius was the obvious example who defeated Low Level Rank D Shielding despite still having rank F psionics. It just went to show what the human body was capable of when taken to the limits.

We only had a few others. Captain Ma was one of them. Like Ebrima, he used his seven foot frame to create far more leverage than the average human could manage.

There was also a few of Kline’s poleaxe specialists that had higher psionics than he did. One even surpassed him by defeating High Level Rank E Physical Armor. Besides a few others, that was our limitation.

Destiny gave me our estimated battalion ranking if we only took into account this last trial. We were ranked 26. We weren’t even in the top 25 battalion. Even battalions that hadn’t ranked very high in any of the events were now starting to catch up simply because they had a few rank D users.

I hadn’t been looking for him, but when he approached the testing device, there was no missing him. Even though his yellow hair was trimmed into a crewcut and he had a thick beard over his blocky jaw, Timur, my friend that had gone by Chewme in Gravel, was even larger than the last time I’d seen him.

He wasn’t taller. We’d always been about the same height, but his joints and bone structure were just larger than what was normally possible. He had a form of giantism without any of the negative side effects that normally came with it. While I looked like the peak of a natural body builder without the excessively low bodyfat percentage and was slowly pushing past my natural limitations, Timur had ignored the limitations entirely as if he’d always been a Combat Master and just needed to fill out.

“How much does he weigh?” I asked Destiny.

She knew him as well as she knew me and Hwan. We’d gamed together for years. So when I asked, she answered as if she’d already calculated it. “It’s hard to say with his baggy shirt, so I’d give him a range of 470 to 510 lbs.”

I swallowed the forming knot in my throat. He didn’t just look as large as a Combat Master. He was that size.

He carried his weight with ease. The huge, wrapped weapon strapped to his back didn’t seem to deter him either.

When he reached the testing stone, he didn’t move until he was given the verbal command. Then he removed his weapon from the latch it hung to by the guard.

The Real Major’s sword had been a longer, thicker version of something already used historically, but what Timur revealed was a steel surfboard beat into the shape of a cleaver with a sharp rounded point. With the uncharacteristically thick handle which was probably necessary because of its size, the sword, for lack of a better word, was longer than he was tall. It had a fuller running down the spine to lighten it somewhat, but there was no way the thing weighed less than fifty pounds.

I didn’t even have to ask. Destiny just told me. “It’s approximately sixty-five pounds and made of a spring steel variant.”

Timur then turned away from his target and put about ten yards between him and it. Then he looked from side to side and motioned for everyone to stand back.

Someone I kept in contact with but hadn’t seen since Vanguard walked up with a psionic-friendly tower shield. Brad, hadn’t cut his hair short like Timur. He was shorter than Ma but stood half a head over me. His long blond hair was put back in a ponytail except for a few shorter braids that hung just below his nose in front of his ears. He was also wearing a full beard. While Timur’s was dark unlike his hair color, Brad’s was blond from top to bottom.

I licked the fronts of my teeth, as I wondered if I should say something. Brad hadn’t told me he was speaking with Timur again, let alone helping him. I wasn’t on the front row, but I could easily see over Mia’s head who was standing in front of me. Brad kept his eyes down. If I didn’t know better, he didn’t want to face the fact I had seen him.

It wasn’t really an issue unless they were up to something even crazier than their Player Killer Guild in Freedom. I didn’t see Timur doing something illegal even if he was willing to stretch the rules.

When the crowd had moved back, Brad took his place to the left of the boulder.

As soon as Timur revealed a rank E aura, I knew something freakish was about to happen. I hadn’t forgotten who he was.

Destiny gave me an estimate of his aura.

Psionic Status

Rank E

High-low Level (Range 20-32)

Placing his blade low in a two-handed grip, he began to spin.

I was shaking my head before he’d made the first full rotation. He wasn’t finished.

Like a shotput or discus thrower, he swung his giant sword in deadly circles. His momentum picked up terrifyingly fast. Then he lunged toward his target. His rotational force only increased until his sword nearly disappeared to the naked eye.

I heard it before I saw it. Brad had caught the attack with his shield, silver psionic energy covering it. Even that drove him back several steps.

Then I saw the testing stone. A thick gouge was cleaved horizontally. It was split cleanly in two around chest height.

“How deep?” I asked Destiny.

“Not as deep as Major Wright’s, but he struck it with the sweet spot of his massive swords edge.”

Only after it was over did the audience behind Brad scramble to move back even further. It didn’t matter, Timur hung his sword on the latch on his back.

His rating registered.

Psionic Shielding

Medium Level Rank D

Physical Armor

Medium Level Rank D

Half a dozen people cursed aloud, before cheers followed. It wasn’t today’s record, but he had just scored one of the top five attacks with only rank E psionics and nothing but his aura.

Timur and Brad were already leaving after only one attempt. It looked like that had accomplished what they’d come for and didn’t want to stay for any of the fallout.

I asked Mia as politely as I could to let me squeeze past her.

My old friend was already several strides away, but I caught Brad by the shoulder, pulling him to a stop.

He was obviously pained after taking what was left of the blow, so I flooded his shoulder with healing psionics.

“Brad,” I said with a level expression.

“It’s not what you think,” he insisted before I’d said anything. “He’s different than before. Realized he took things too far. He contacted me a few months back and asked me not to say anything.”

“You promised me you’d let me know if you heard from him. Why break your promise to me to keep one to him?”

The taller man leaned down and said, “Because he didn’t want me to keep it from you for long. Just until he was ready.”

“For what exactly?”

“For an opportunity like today. He’s done getting his head right and with all of his training. He wanted you to know he’s ready to compete. And he wants to speak with you. Alone.”

I sighed.

Glancing back, I found Mel shadowing me a few strides away, trying to give us privacy but not letting me go alone.

I motioned him over. “Timur wants to meet. What do you think?”

“I’d normally think that people shouldn’t get fighting techniques from video games, but after seeing what he just did…”

I gave him a pointed look.

His eyes narrowed, and he answered, “He was more or less crazy in Freedom, but he’s also your friend. Unless you think he’s going to try and murder you, I don’t see much harm in it.”

“What do you think, Destiny?” I asked.

“There is something different about him,” she replied hesitantly. “He was far less tense than the last time we saw him.”

I nodded before turning back to Brad. “When?”

“Well…”

***

Timur was dressing in ballistics when we found him sitting at the corner table at an offsite restaurant that was still considered part of the convention because of its location. It was before the dinner rush, so it wasn’t too crowded.

When the hostess asked Brad, Mel and me if it was just the three of us, we pointed to the large guy in the corner who was nursing a drink.

As soon as she started leading us in that direction, Timur scooted out of the booth and stood to greet us. He wasn’t carrying his oversized sword.

I stopped when there was still a good ten feet between us and just studied him.

He met my eye but he didn’t have the same overbearing confidence. If anything, he seemed contrite?

I held his gaze long enough that even the most arrogant person would grow impatient. Our hostess was standing there frozen.

He inclined his brow in question before palming the back of his head.

I couldn’t help it. We’d known each other for too long. One side of my mouth inched upward.

His grin matched mine.

The next moment, I cleared the space between us and cuffed him on the shoulder before shaking his hand.

“It’s good to see you, Chew,” I said sincerely.

“Hey, Lucius. It’s been a while.”

Before addressing anything that had happened in the past, we sat down, ordered some food, and got caught up.