The Game of Teeth

"But before we begin," Silas said, his voice casual, "let's make it interesting."

Theron raised an eyebrow. He hadn't come here for stakes—just to enjoy an easy victory, maybe bruise the pride of a "talentless" kid. But now he saw an opportunity, and he never passed up something free.

"How do you propose we do that, talentless?" Theron said, smirking.

Silas smiled back, polite, almost friendly. "Simple. If I win, you give us some contribution points. If you win… I'll take your place on your next mission."

Velira blinked. "Silas—"

But he didn't look at her. He kept his eyes on Theron.

Theron laughed, a short, sharp sound. "I like it. Let's get into position."

Of course he agreed. Silas knew he would. The wealthy didn't risk their own necks unless they had no other choice. That was something true in his previous life, and it held firm here too. Why risk danger when someone else could take your place in the dark?

---

The training ground was quiet, the air still and cold.

The difference between the two was immediate.

Silas and his effigy stood side-by-side, alert, like wolves waiting for the wind to shift. They didn't just look ready—they looked hungry.

Theron, on the other hand, stood behind his effigy. It was hunched, obedient, shaped with strength but not with pride. Even its posture seemed to echo what Theron thought of it: a servant, not a partner.

Velira moved between them and raised her hand. "Alright… Three. Two. One—begin!"

---

Theron's effigy launched forward.

Fast—shockingly fast. It blurred through the air like a polished blade, graceful and sure. Within seconds it was in front of Silas's effigy, swinging wide, aiming to end the fight before it began.

But Silas's effigy moved second.

And it moved perfectly.

A single step. A sudden twist. One hand caught the attacker's wrist mid-strike, and in a flash of motion, slammed it sideways, hurtling it toward the training ground wall. It didn't hit—the creature twisted at the last second, landing on its feet with uncanny balance.

But Silas's effigy didn't stop. It was already closing the distance.

Theron's eyes narrowed. "What the hell—"

Just as the two met again, a deep rune across Silas's effigy pulsed to life. Blue light. Then black.

The body shimmered, cracked—then shattered into shards of shadow that spun through the air like knives of smoke. For a few seconds, Theron's connection to his effigy stuttered, like static in his mind.

Silas's effigy reformed behind it, calm and whole.

Velira watched, lips parted. "That's new."

Before Theron's effigy could react, another sigil activated—etched onto the effigy's throat. It glowed a deep, molten red. Then white.

The effigy's mouth opened.

No words came. It had no voice box. But the force of it rippled out anyway.

"Obey."

It wasn't a suggestion. It was a command.

Theron's effigy froze mid-motion, limbs slack, like a marionette whose strings had been cut. For a moment, the connection between Theron and his creation went dark.

Silas didn't waste the moment.

In a fluid motion, his effigy lifted its hand—thumb up, fingers extended, like a gun—and pointed. The hand exploded, scattering needle-sharp fragments of shadow that tore through Theron's effigy's legs. Its knees buckled.

The hand reformed.

Theron's link snapped back into place just in time to drag the effigy out of the way as Silas's closed in again.

And then—

Silas stepped back.

The tension broke.

He gave a lazy shrug. "Why don't we call this a draw?"

Theron's jaw tightened. He looked at his damaged effigy, then at the unreadable expression on Silas's face. He didn't want to say yes. But he couldn't afford to say no.

"…Fine."

He turned sharply and left, his effigy limping behind.

Silas didn't watch him go.

Velira came to his side, eyes still wide. "You could've won. Why let him walk?"

Silas gave a crooked smile, one corner of his mouth lifting just slightly. "Because if I had won, I might not have been walking tomorrow."

She frowned, then blinked. "Ah. His father."

He nodded.

Velira exhaled through her nose, impressed. "Smart."

Silas turned his gaze back to the ground, where the scattered dust still swirled from the fight.

Smart wasn't always the same as safe.

But for now… it was enough.