Aaron looked pointedly between the guns and the elevator and motioned at both. "If machines are evil, why are we using them?"

Shard sighed and replied, "Because the curse is not all-encompassing. Magic will make guns need extensive cleaning after a few shots. And machines smaller than my fingers will be destroyed by the mana corrosion." She held out a hand, and a soldier handed her his smoothbore. "See here near the hammer's mechanism? The metal is corroded, because it's part of a mechanism."

Aaron frowned deeply. They have nukes and can make mutant animals, but a pocket watch is impossible? Well, that explains the clothing. His hand ran over the roughspun tunic.

"Say, how was this fabric made?"

Silence settled over the group and the mages exchanged awkward looks. Aaron kept his face very neutral. Seems the bourgeoisie doesn't know the means of production.

"Anax, if I may…" a guard interjected, earning a scathing look from Shard. Aaron bit his tongue lightly. Oh no, is she petty enough to punish him for this? I think I know how to handle this.

"Speak up, private," Aaron ordered with a smile.

"My mother was a weaver overseer. Slaves or Bonded wove it in workshops with their hands, Anax." He finished, growing steadily more confident.

Aaron nodded and smiled after a moment at the man. So they've got sweatshops. With actual slaves instead of wage slaves.

"Thank you, private. Your answer has earned you three days of leave."

Aaron observed the man. I hope the translation worked out and that they have leave here.

The man bowed his upper body halfway. "You are most gracious, Anax."

Shard shook her head. "Aaron, this is most irregular. In the military—"

Aaron glared at her and cut her off. "In the military, I am the commander of this unit and may reward my men as I see fit. As well as ordering them to talk or be silent as it pleases me."

Her mouth gaped open for a heartbeat before she nodded with an indulgent smile. "Of course, Anax. As you order, my Führer."

Aaron blinked. "What did you just say?"

She repeated the word. "…Führer."

Aaron observed her with a puzzled look. Why is my translation software speaking German?

He turned to Bug. "What does the word mean?"

Bug threw Shard a glare, and an odd pressure—smiling like the one the Matriarch had emitted—let the air on the platform solidify. Bug made a cutting motion, and the pressure subsided.

"It is an archaic term. The military rank of a tyrant. Using it is a dire breach of military etiquette."

The pressure swept over the platform again. Bug and Shard stared at each other. The presidential guards shuffled toward the edge of the platform, as did Lyra. Aaron felt the pressure too, but it wasn't overwhelming. Not yet.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

With the slow inevitability of a glacier, Bug's hand moved over the surface of his insectile mantis form—toward his katar. Shard stood frozen in her obsidian tinted armor.

With deliberate slowness, Bug, standing in the middle of the ring of soldiers on the swaying wooden platform, grabbed and drew his katar. His grin was as unwavering as Shard's scowl.

Bug disappeared, and something green blurred toward Shard as a wave of heat hit Aaron. Ice magic, part of his mind registered between the shocked outcries.

Bug reappeared before Shard. His katar in the muzzle of her bolt launcher, pushing it to the side. Her other hand, surrounded in red liquid, shot toward Bug's neck.

Then Aaron noticed the five beads of blue ice that fell onto the ground beneath Shard. Bug dodged under the carnomancy attack of the master fleshcrafter—barely. Aaron watched with a mixture of horror and fascination as the superhumans blurred before him.

Ice grew on the ground under Shard and the air rushed in from all directions, only for the magic to solidify it. Both fighters froze.

"Oh no, I'm getting cold feet. Whatever will I do, Buggy?" Shard mocked, her hand encased in red liquid and ready for a boxing match.

Bug grinned in turn. "You will take the fall for this."

He blurred forward, katar entering like a fencer's blade. Shard prepared to block when Bug's forefoot came down in a blur on the iced wood. It shattered like glass.

Shard plummeted through the hole. Bug took another step and leapt on the shattered edge right as it gave under the collapse. The wood crumbled like bread as a scream marked Shard's fall the remaining thirty meters to the ground.

But she landed like an acrobat on her feet.

Bug bowed gently with his whole upper body. "My apologies, Champion. The Purists needed some purification. So I took the liberty to cool down the situation."

He got up, grinning like a proud child. Aaron began breathing again as the platform creaked, and noticed the excited shouts below them.

The platform had stopped. What did I just witness? Without the banter, they only engaged for a second at most, each time.

A hand found his shoulder, and he flinched. Lyra. He patted her hand and stared at the mess around them. Took in the angry dreams beneath.

Everyone was looking at him.

Oh, right. I am the commanding officer of this circus.

With an untested voice, he began, "Was that necessary?"

Bug smiled sardonically. "It is a matter of definition, like everything else."

Anger boiled up in Aaron's chest, mixed with something else. "Do not play word games with me, Master Bug!"

Lyra's hand tightened on his shoulder. Aaron glared at the mage.

"I'm not playing word games. I'm playing games of words."

Bug flashed his impish smile and Aaron broke out in laughter. He leaned back against the railing and just laughed. Bug joined in, but everyone else remained silent as a grave.

As soon as Aaron calmed down, he considered the situation. This is hilarious. But also bad.

He looked at Bug. "Why did you do it? Seriously."

Bug met his eyes and the smile was gone in an instant. "She contested my position of junior commander from the moment we met. This way, I get the choice of arns and could fight her naked if I want instead of dealing with the mother-cursed titan suit."

Aaron nodded in understanding. He is preparing a battlefield for a coming war. To fight on his own terms. Still…

"You talk about military discipline. Isn't this a gross breach of it?"

"No. It is merely a squabble between mages. If you treat it that way, it will all be fine."

Aaron studied the ice mage's face, then nodded. "What will you do about the hole you made?"

Bug shook his head as the platform began lurching downwards again. "Shard made the hole by falling through. Her hole, her problem with the Polis."

They got closer to the ground in silence. A few manheights from the ground, Bug spoke up lightly, as both of them spotted a disheveled-looking Shard glaring up.

"How about you order an equipment inspection once we're out the gate?"

Aaron began shaking his head, but then a smile crept over his face.

I just might do that.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.