This Ascent to Divinity is Lewder Than Expected

6.55 – Training Facility II

"Fourth?" Honor asked, rearing back in surprise. "Fourth? How? It hasn't been a month!"

There didn't seem to be any doubt in her exclamation; Rosalie wouldn't lie about her advancement. She was too important to be spouting frivolous untruths like that. Instead, Honor's face showed pure disbelief. A lack of understanding of how Rosalie's claim was even possible.

"There are … extenuating circumstances surrounding the how," Rosalie said. "I was fortunate in several regards. In ways others couldn't hope to be." She glanced at Zoey as she said that.

"Well—" Honor said, trying to maintain the heat in her voice, but she'd been caught off guard. "Regardless. I'm third. That's respectable." She narrowed her eyes at Rosalie. "And I could still take you. Advancement isn't everything."

"I doubt you could, lady," Delta said.

Orange eyes pivoted to her. "Did I ask your opinion?"

Purple eyes narrowed in turn. "You think I give a shit what you—?"

A hand on Delta's shoulder stopped the retort. Delta blinked at Rosalie, who also seemed surprised that she'd reached out to calm her; that wasn't a typical Rosalie reaction. Rosalie cleared her throat and retracted the hand. It had at least worked to cut Delta off.

"Would you like to have a round?" Rosalie asked Honor. "I would appreciate it, actually. It'll stop the vultures from swarming while we catch up. Give us some privacy."

Zoey suspected the second part was Rosalie's real goal. But by the way Honor crossed her arms and immediately answered, "Sure. Let's," Zoey thought the red-haired girl had different aims. She didn't want to enter the arena to catch up with Rosalie. She had something to prove.

Zoey doubted she'd find much success there. Rosalie had an advancement on Honor, and Rosalie was … well, Rosalie. She didn't think there was anyone of a similar advancement, much less lower, who could beat her in a one-on-one. And that wasn't mentioning the passive, permanent buffs she received through Zoey's skills.

She wondered what the story was behind these two.

"Of course you're already dragging her away," Cordelia said in exasperation. "We didn't even finish introductions, Honor."

Honor didn't seem remotely abashed by the chiding tone. She spun on a heel and stalked toward the nearest empty arena.

"I apologize," Rosalie offered Cordelia. "But it's … Honor. This has to be dealt with. We can speak after?"

"Yes, yes," Cordelia said, seeming amused. "I would love to catch up, but I'll say my hellos to your teammates in the meantime."

Rosalie's face was impassive as her attention flicked between Cordelia and them. Zoey couldn't guess what she was thinking. She wouldn't say a mask had slid over Rosalie's face, but she was more reserved than Zoey had seen her in a long time.

Eventually, Rosalie nodded, then turned and pursued Honor.

"What was that about?" Zoey asked. "And, hi, it's nice to meet you. Sorry, I guess?"

"Oh, no problem, dear. Hardly your fault. Zoey, right?"

"And Delta, Maddy," Zoey said, gesturing at each of them. Delta inclined her head, still annoyed by Honor's attitude, and Maddy waved brightly.

"What's got a stick up redhead's ass?" Delta asked.

Cordelia quirked an eyebrow—such crude and direct phrasing probably wasn't seen often in high society circles—but she didn't comment.

"You," Cordelia said plainly.

"Me? I didn't say shit. She started it."

"Or all of you, rather. You took her spot on Rosalie's team," Cordelia said, confirming Zoey's suspicions. "That 'started it'. It's reasonable she's upset—though her behavior isn't. She, like half the guild her age, has been aspiring for that position since she was a child. And was a forerunner for attaining it. Honor is very good at what she does. She was all but guaranteed a spot until you three came along."

Delta blinked. She gave a begrudging look toward the arena; for Honor to have been 'guaranteed a spot,' she must be an incredible fighter, which Zoey knew Delta respected.

By now, Rosalie and Honor had climbed onto the arena platform and stood at opposite sides. They were speaking, but the words were swallowed by whatever magic shielded the platform's invisible borders.

"It's safe to say anyone Rosalie regularly sparred with was a prodigy of their generation," Cordelia said. "But yes, Honor at the forefront among them."

"You too, then?" Delta asked. "You're also hot shit?"

Again, she raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment on Delta's word choice. "I'm a year older," she said with a wave. "I entered the Fractures too early to be considered part of her vanguard crew." She shrugged. "Though future opportunities were more than possible. Nothing says her initial team would be her forever team." She gave the three of them a curious look. "Though, it seems all our assumptions have been turned on their heads. I've heard some interesting rumors about you three."

"We got here yesterday," Delta said. "How are there already rumors? You people stand in circles talking all day?"

Cordelia laughed. "Frankly, on occasion, yes," she said. "But the return of the heiress is a little more important of an event than usual. Of course news spread fast. Not to mention the Guildmaster's official announcements."

Delta grunted. She faced Quinn. "And you? What's your deal?"

"I'm uninvolved." He shrugged. "I'm here with my fiancé." He nodded at Cordelia. "And to say my hellos to the returning d'Celestin heir, of course."

"Oh. You two are a thing?" Delta asked. Zoey hadn't made that guess either, not that she was surprised, necessarily.

"Quite happily," Cordelia said, smiling at Quinn.

Their conversation was temporarily forgotten as the fight began. The five of them had walked to stand out of the way while they watched Rosalie and Honor's fight. While Zoey was aware of a prickling on the back of her neck that told her they were being watched from several angles, no one else had approached. That was likely why Rosalie had been relieved Cordelia had bee-lined for her: their presence was fending away, however briefly, other interlopers. She wondered how long that would last.

On one side of the arena stood Rosalie. She was donned in unfamiliar metal armor, lightweight and gleaming. Zoey had grown used to seeing her in either casual wear or their form of armor—which was to say, naked, or if not that, then wearing inappropriate accessories with some highly revealing 'armor pieces' in the best case.

Seeing Rosalie in a complete warrior's get-up was an interesting image. She struck an imposing figure, especially with her spear. Gone was the one she'd used through previous shards. Now, she wielded a piece of her inheritance. Rosalie had mentioned the spear once or twice. From what Zoey understood, the weapon was worth a minor noble family's entire fortune. Dragon's Tongue was eight feet of sleek black and orange metal. The top was forged into an approximation of a dragon's face, and the orange blade, the tip, extended forward like a stylized tongue.

Rosalie hadn't mentioned what level shard the spear had been dug up from, but Zoey presumed at least seventh. Her father had been the one to find it, and it had previously been his mainhand. Of course, the weapon's incredible potential was muted on a fourth-advancement wayfarer, but it was still a far better tool than most anything they could find.

Then again, maybe not. Their shards tended to drop extremely powerful items, just with bizarre requirements. Perhaps they would find a spear as strong as Rosalie's heirloom, though likely not from an objective sense—only because Dragon's Tongue was scaled down to suit its lower-advancement wielder.

On the other side of the arena stood Honor. Frankly, she was no less intimidating than Rosalie. Every ounce her equal, in her red leather armor. Her axe was nearly as long as Rosalie's spear, its blade half her size. A monstrous weapon that had seemed smaller when strapped to her back. She leveled it toward Rosalie, feet shifting as she prepared to charge forward.

It seemed Rosalie's goal of talking to the woman had failed—or perhaps they would talk as they fought. Zoey didn't know what was going on between the two of them. It seemed like a 'spurned friend' was the easiest, and probably most accurate, explanation. Zoey had never thought she would feel bad for teaming up with Rosalie, but she'd underestimated how big of a deal it would be, and to how many people. Not just from a political sense, but also a personal one. Honor's spot on Rosalie's team had been something she'd looked forward to her entire life.

Honor burst forward.

She closed the gap to Rosalie with absurd speed. Zoey could track the girl's movements, but she had an advancement advantage to thank for that, being fourth compared to Honor's third, along with shared physical stats from Rosalie and Delta.

Rosalie moved much, much faster, too quickly for Zoey to keep up with. She sidestepped Honor's lunge, and Honor's giant bladed axe cut into the ground, missing.

The following five seconds were brutal. And that was all the fight lasted—five seconds. Maybe Rosalie was proving a point, or maybe she was showing respect by not 'taking it easy' on her opponent, who was clearly outmatched. She drew blood in six different spots across Honor, but avoided hurting her too badly. There were surely all manners of easy healing available at this arena, and perhaps the arenas themselves were enchanted with defensive magic to prevent accidents, but clearly, by Rosalie's care, combatants were expected to try not to kill their opponent.

One final blow—a gauntleted punch straight to the face—knocked Honor back. The woman careened and fell, losing consciousness from the force of the attack.

Zoey looked around at the stunned expressions of the spectators who had come to watch. She could intuit that Honor wasn't some run-of-the-mill fighter often bullied around the arena. And Rosalie had only ventured into the Fracture less than a month ago. It all but confirmed Rosalie's claim she was fourth advancement. And not weak for it, either; her lack of experience wasn't hampering her.

"Well," Cordelia said after a second. "I suppose that's to be expected. It is Lady d'Celestin we're talking about. Still, I forgot just how good that girl is." She shook her head. "I must admit, I'm itching to test her myself, now. I have a year's headstart, but I find myself doubtful." She glanced at Quinn, hesitance on her face.

"Of course you would win, beloved," he said easily. "It would barely be a fight."

Cordelia rolled her eyes, though she couldn't fight away the smile. Apparently, she was one for that sort of earnestness.

"But really," Cordelia said. "That's shocking. It lasted all of a few seconds."

Ahead, Rosalie was helping Honor up; she'd regained consciousness quickly. Hardy, as expected of a wayfarer. Or maybe thanks to the arena's enchantments. Once standing, she brushed Rosalie away, then—though the words were still obscured by the magical walls—presumably began arguing for a rematch, already stalking over to her half of the arena.

"Ah," Cordelia said, making a face. "She really is so…" She chose not to finish the statement. "It might take a few tries before she's willing to just talk to her." She sighed, then faced the three of them. "Perhaps this is a bit gauche to ask, but I'm suddenly thinking I need a warm-up. It'd be embarrassing to be flounced by my junior quite as thoroughly as Honor was." She cocked her head, eyes flicking between Zoey, Delta, and Maddy. "So, would you mind? Any of you up for a friendly bout?"

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