Immediately after Priscilla stepped aside and announced the start of the match, Corey was sent flying.

Before the crowd could fully react, he had already smashed into his end of the dome and shattered it. The shields reinforcing that curved portion of the wall flickered and crumbled along with the disintegrating slab of concrete, before springing back up again and shoving him forward.

The minister resembled a puppet that had lost it's strings, dangling and lifeless without someone to tug at his limbs and command movement. Anyone with functional eyes saw that. And the only reason he was still standing was because of the forcefield that supported his battered body.

Other than the fact that his chest rose slightly with each moment that passed Corey seemed more rag doll than human.

It had happened so fast that no one in the audience was clear on what had occurred-who hit who, and how?

Not caring for their confusion the point counter had awarded three points to Gideon. That meant that the minister had been attacked thrice in succession. In other words, he had been hit three times before anyone could notice.

The audience was made up of seasoned veterans who had braved death countless times, they had trained their eyes to pay attention to the littlest of details so it was surprising that they hadn't noticed a thing.

What speed. . . Their gazes turned to the screen at the highest point of the dome. The time had already started counting down and the blinking zero on Corey's half of the board proved that the general was still untouched.

Ten seconds, that was all the time the minister had to get up and declare that he could still fight, but by the looks of it that wasn't going to happen anytime soon. Some men in the crowd-those who served directly under him-were prepared to rush into the dome and rescue their commander. After all, the minister still had to lead them to reclaim the capital-and he couldn't do that if he was half-dead.

"What-" the others shot out of their seats after coming to the startling realization that Corey had been swiftly defeated the moment the fight had began. They peered into the arena with enthusiasm and those who had bet on Gideon were ecstatic as they watched the minister slump against the wall of invisible particles-even Priscilla was slack-jawed and speechless. She hadn't expected any major developments so early into the match.

"As per the rules," she quickly regained her composure, finding her voice as the screen above her slowed down and replayed the hit, "if a combatant doesn't get up after the count of ten then they are disqualified."

3, 2, 1. . .

"Wait," the command erupted from the rubble and Corey took a shaky step forward. He held up his hand for a moment and seemed to drag his body along with him before letting his arm fall to his side. "I'm fine."

Priscilla blinked and let out a sigh, she didn't know if she was relieved or disappointed but this brutal show would go on until one of the ministers had to be hospitalized-the profits would be unimaginable. "The minister is up! After suffering three strikes apparently out of nowhere, we thought it was the end!"

She tried to excite the audience even though it wasn't needed. They were hyped enough as it is.

The attack was replayed at varying speeds until the three slashes were finally revealed on the screen. In the blink of an eye the general had swung his axe, unleashing a series of wind blades into the space in front of him and cornering the minister. Corey had managed to dodge each slash but the force behind them had sent him into the wall.

"You aren't as light on your feet as I thought you were." Gideon teased and gently swung his axe. The motion sent a sharp gust of wind Corey's way and the minister barely evaded the attack. He kept his arms up to shield his face as he was knocked back one more time.

"Don't toy with me, Gideon." The minister wiped the cut on his cheek with the back of his gloved hand. He didn't feel the pain but seeing the blood made him wince.

He looked down at his shirt and frowned. All that remained of it were a few pieces short of inexistent. All that was left of it were shredded strips of cloth that clung to the oozing cuts that crisscrossed his chest. The rest of the shirt was scattered across the arena.

Corey gingerly peeled off the the remains of his bloodied shirt from his torso and tossed them to the ground.

"Very funny." Seeing Gideon's cruel smile, he couldn't bring himself to remember why he had agreed to this arrangement in the first place. It was obvious that the General only cared about humiliating him.

He knew that the air from the attack from before had been designed to cushion his fall and at the same time shred his clothes into oblivion. He had no doubt that he would have been left as naked as he the day he was born if he hadn't managed to dodge the physical manifestations of that swing.

Corey's expression soured and he fixed a glare on Gideon. "Aren't you going to attack?"

"Would you survive it?"

"Funny." The twenty-eight year old frowned and considered the best way to deal with the situation he had trapped himself in.

More than anything he wished Dawn would get back soon. She was the only one capable of mediating between him and Gideon. Despite the general despising them both he still preferred the professor to Corey.

"Kathryn, get me a new shirt please." Corey spoke to his bracelet and kept his eyes trained on Gideon.

"What type-color. . .?" She stopped herself after realizing the redundancy of the question. The encoded breakdown of a dark red shirt wormed it's way into her software and she would have frowned if she could. It was common knowledge that the minister was permitted to wear nothing but the colors of North's flag-and always the darker shades.

Red was most suited to such a bloody affair.

"Thank you." Corey arranged his cuffs and collar. He sounded truly grateful this time and Kathryn let out a hum of approval.

"Priscilla just informed me that Lords Estell and Maudlin have arrived," the bracelet glowed briefly as the computer mulled over the message she had received. "Would you like to forfeit the match?"

Unconsciously Corey's eyes left the General and focused on the room above the arena-directly on top of him. He was sure that they were watching him too-expecting him to fail. They were not his friends and they felt too big to be his subjects.

He disliked people like them with a burning passion.

"Minister." Kathryn's panicked warning reminded him that he was still in a fight; that danger was still present; that he could die if Gideon felt in the mood to get serious.

Corey moved instinctively and shuffled a bit to the side, it shouldn't have been enough to make a difference but it did-neither of them were taking this seriously enough.

He watched a blade of air snip at his hair and collide into the remaining wall behind him. The black locks fell, the wall crumbled, and one more point was added to Gideon's column. . . the crowd cried for blood.

Blood. More of the warm sticky substance dripped down Corey's right cheek. He wasn't sure how long he could keep dodging, or how many more hits like that he could take.

He imagined Dawn rebuking him for getting out of bed after only three days of rest-and starting a fight immediately afterwards-but he had to.

What sort of minister would he portraying himself to be? Weak? Cowardly?

Corey aggressively swiped at the red that trickled past his jaw.

He blocked out the screaming audience in the background and solidified his stance. He was sure that soldiers had forgotten that five years ago he and Gideon had fought-a bitter, bloody fight-for the seat of minister and he had won.

They had forgotten that he had beaten this general and many others in his quest for power. He had made them forget. Instead all they remembered was a feeble coward-it was the safest image he could allow. It had kept him alive for this long.

It had kept everyone he held dear out of harm's way.

Because he had been so weak, North had become a safer place. All his enemies were too scared of Gideon to do anything and they all thought that a spineless leader like him wasn't worth the effort anyway. They thought his presence made North a weaker nation, and that was a good thing for them.

But he was tired, tired of the ridicule, silent insults and overall feeling of inadequacy. He could hear voices at the back of his mind, Dawn, Kathryn, Priscilla-warnings. Alarms of danger rang loudly in his head but the danger wasn't anywhere around him. It wasn't from Gideon and his axe, it was from deep within himself.

Corey felt everything in him snap, five years of restraint broken on a whim. His only conscious thought afterwards was that Dawn wouldn't be here to stop him.

He let out a careful breath and flexed his fingers. This is it. This is the end of hiding. His voice of reason was gone.

His voice of reason had disappeared when she left the mountain and vanished from the capital.

This is it. He strode towards Gideon without hesitation. More tangible blades of strength flew at him but he didn't care, everything was so slow now.

So. Very. Slow.

He reached out with his left hand and crushed the blade in front of him. It shattered like glass, like it never existed, and the rest of the wind attacks barely touched him.

He felt invincible.

Corey felt power flow through his veins like liquid energy and he almost didn't know what to do with it.

Almost.

His fist shot at Gideon's face just as the golden axe came bearing down on him. Corey paid no heed to the attack, instead he sent his right leg crashing into the general's side.

The blade of the axe grazed Corey's sleeve as Gideon jumped back in retreat, but the minister didn't relent. He sent another punch towards the General's face.

Gideon scowled and hacked down at Corey's arm. Again, the younger man didn't seem bothered by the attack, he only raised his leg and kneed the vice minister in the chest.

The move sent the vice minister stumbling away.

The general shot back a couple steps before he stabilized. "Impressive, Roya."

Corey stretched his fingers and said nothing, he kept his gaze fixed on his opponent then cracked his knuckles. At this point everyone else had faded away, the only thing that filled his vision was Gideon and his axe.

I have to defeat him now. He was well aware that the thirty minute deadline for the end of the match was closing in. If he didn't knock Gideon out or get him to surrender by that time then the winner would be decided by the number of points accumulated-and right now it was two to five.

Now or never. . .

The two men charged at each other.

Corey narrowed his eyes at Gideon and just when his axe had slammed down to hit him, the minister struck the weapon just below the blade and sent flying it into the air. The action shook the vice minister's left arm and stunned him for a second.

Seizing the opportunity and not giving the general time to retaliate, Corey slammed his knuckles into the man's throat, the force sending him into the floor.

At the same time the minister was kicked away by Gideon.

The points rolled and finally settled at 6-3; the clock lost one more second and the time had run to five minutes.

Corey stared at the screen then at the staggering General. He needed a knockout to win. He needed to win.

Things had gotten serious.

He couldn't afford to lose, the consequences were obvious by now. Any slipup and Gideon could easily petition to replace him as minister.

As the Corey thought the scenario through he suddenly noticed the pain in his right arm, a slow burning ache that tore at his flesh. His vision blurred slightly as he looked down at the blood dripping from his hand. He hadn't noticed the blood until it came as steady drops down his white gloves.

He tried to ignored the symbol that was being formed on the back of his palm, the images that danced around his eyes made him look away. He forced himself to forget about his past and when he looked up the gleaming blade of the Bloodless was already at his neck.

Corey watched everything slowly and oddly enough the first thing that worried him was the glint of the stage lights off the axe, his reflection. His eyes were no longer a stormy blue but a startling shade of metallic yellow. The color was not from the axe, that much he was sure of.

Golden eyes.

Braek. . . Like a reflexive response, blue instinctively crackled along his fingers. The danger had finally arrived and he could see it in Gideon's eyes as they went wide with shock. A volt of visible current snaked over his blade and wormed into his forehead.

At that crucial moment the lights in the arena were turned off-a mental order Corey had given Kathryn seconds before-and just like that the fight was over. Corey had won by knockout-confirmed by the announcement on the screen above him-and the General laid paralyzed at his feet.

The lights flickered back on some short moments later but the deed had already been done, before anyone could stop him, Corey rushed out of the arena.

I should have waited for her. He hoped no one would realize that he had almost killed the ancient vice minister. . .

†

I'm lame at fight scenes, but hurray for Corey! He won!
Of course, Gideon is not really okay right now and if he dies we can just say that he has lived a rich long life.

Who expected that? To the people who thought I would be mean and make Corey lose. . . He is a ******* badass. Mind my language.

Golden eyes. Everyone should have them. Edythe and Corey are so lucky, they are really rocking this blue to gold transition.

Now, time for questions. It has be brought to my attention by jjeweled-who writes much better fight scenes by the way-that I should include recaps for chapters with characters that have been spaced so far apart (like Corey's last scene in chapter 9 and this one.) Should I?

I'm really itching to write way-cooler-that-what-really-happened summaries, so give me your verdict. Also, check out The Celestial by jjeweled when you have the time, it's a great story!

Question of the chapter

Will Gideon live to see 200? Haha.