The market was awash with conversation as Arwin, led Olive, Elias, and Maeve back to the Devil’s den. He normally made it a point not to listen too closely to what people were saying. Rodrick already kept more than enough of a track of the rumors for him to bother with them — but even Arwin was starting to pick up on a few topics that were coming up more often than not. “Did you hear the Twin Blade’s brother is competing in the Proving Grounds?” a man by a meat pie stand asked through a mouthful of food. “I didn’t even realize he had a brother.” The potbellied vendor’s words were flat. He didn’t sound particularly interested in the conversation — his tone made it clear this was far from the first time that he’d been subjected to it. The Secret Eye had been busy. They certainly had quite a bit of hype building up about their tournament. It seemed that half of the town was talking about the Proving Grounds. Arwin had absolutely no idea how everyone was actually going to see it. Are they just going to send papers out talking about what happens? Or maybe a bunch of town criers will use magic to communicate with the Secret Eye and give people live updates. It would have to be something like that because there’s no way everyone that’s talking about the tournament will be able to make it. For that matter, Arwin didn’t even know how Olive’s team was meant to make it to the tournament. He hadn’t heard a single word about the tournament from the Secret Eye yet. He imagined they’d be reaching out with information soon enough — or there wouldn’t be anyone at their tournament. They made their way out of the market and continued through Milten. It wasn’t long before they’d arrived back on their street. A small line of adventurers was present at the entrance of the Devil’s Den, and the sound of clinking cutlery came from within. Given how much Lillia’s magic muted every sound within the tavern, it was definitely a lively night. The four of them cut the line and slipped through the door, drawing one or two muttered complaints from the crowd before people realized who they were. “The difference between an idiot and a genius is measured in success,” Art said. He rifled through a deck of cards that sat on the table, shuffling them together so fast that Arwin could barely follow the boy’s hands. “And coming here would only be stupid if I was at risk.” “Why wouldn’t you be?” Arwin asked, tilting his head to the side. “We’re rivals in the tournament.” “That’s not how you operate,” Art said. “I’ve looked into your guild quite extensively. You’ve never attacked anyone that hasn’t started the fight with you first… though that information only dates back to your creation. Half your guild has absolutely no history.” “And you won’t be finding any more of it out today,” Rodrick said with a cool smile. “Art informed me that he was here for entirely personal reasons, and not due to the tournament. So long as that remains true, I don’t see why we should be enemies today.” Art inclined his head. “Rodrick is correct. I have been told you may be able to heal a severely injured body part. Is that correct?” “Heal probably isn’t the right word. I… might be able to replace one, though,” Arwin said. “It’s something I’ve only done once, but I can take a look at you and see what we can do. Is it your leg?” Art blinked. “That’s it?” “What do you mean, that’s it? I didn’t say it would be easy.” “We’re enemies,” Art clarified. “We’ll be fighting each other in the arena.” “Well, I won’t be in the arena myself.” “Irrelevant. You’re willing to help a crippled opponent? Even though I’ll be up against your team?” “It’s a tournament. Not a war,” Arwin said through a snort. “My people will carry their weight through skill and equipment. I’m not going to deny someone assistance because we’re competing.” Art studied him for several long seconds. “You’re confident in your abilities.” “I am,” Arwin said. “And their abilities as well. But it would be cruel for me to deny someone quality of life when I am capable of helping. I should just warn you it could take me some time. I can’t abandon my team to work on this.” “Nor would I expect you to.” Art hesitated for a moment longer. “What about internal organs?” Arwin blinked. “What?” “Internal organs,” Art repeated. “Can you replace them as well?” “I was under the impression it was your leg—” “I am a greatly troubled individual.” Rodrick’s head tilted to the side. He’d caught something in Art’s tone, and so had Arwin. He was trying to hide something. “It’s… possible,” Arwin said. “I’ve never tried it. I genuinely don’t know the answer. It would probably depend on the organ. It would be exceedingly difficult, but I would be willing to do my best. That would probably have to happen after the tournament.” “Because you don’t want to give us the advantage?” Arwin snorted. “No. Because it would require an immense amount of preparation and research. If I screw up fixing a leg, I can make you a new leg. If I mess up with a heart, then you’re dead. I don’t want you dead.” “I see,” Art said slowly. “Thank you. That’s all. You live up to your name, Arwin. It was a pleasure meeting you. I look forward to facing your team in the tournament.” He rose to his feet, grabbed his cane, and limped out of the room without another word. Arwin and Rodrick exchanged a glance. “That was strange,” Arwin said. “Strange is an understatement,” Rodrick said, tapping a finger on the table with a deep frown. “He’s one to keep an eye on. I can’t get a read on him at all. Don’t underestimate that kid. Did you see that deck of cards he had?” “It had pictures of each of us on it,” Rodrick said grimly. “He’s got information that he shouldn’t have. Not all of it, but a lot.” Arwin’s back stiffened. “Just how detailed?” Rodrick moved a hand from the table, revealing a small card that he’d palmed. It had a drawing of Arwin upon it, along with a single sentence scrawled beneath it. The blood rushed out of Arwin’s face as he read over it.