Noah was starting to wonder if the mages stalking him were just doing it for the love of the game. He could have sworn he’d managed to lose them a few times in the hour or so since he’d left his conversation partner. But every single time he started to think he was home free, he caught a glimpse of one or another out of the corner of his eye.

It was strange. Even though they clearly had a pretty effective way to keep track of him, not one of them had actually tried to speak with him yet. Maybe they were just amused by the idea of chasing him around. Maybe they were just waiting until he got bored of running to speak with him. Or maybe they were waiting for something else.

There’s always a chance they’re not actually recruiters. It would be pretty funny if they were actually following me to make sure I don’t go creating any more Formations. If that’s what they’re thinking, then they’ve got nothing to be worried about. I’ve already done what I needed to.

Noah couldn’t help but optimistically scan the crowds as he slipped through them. He knew the chances of spotting anyone he knew were astronomically low. This hall was huge. He still hadn’t noticed any signs of Lee, and she would have been one of the easiest people to find. They’d both agreed to start their little displays at roughly the same time, but he hadn’t heard anything at all from her end.

Finding anyone other than her was probably next to impossible. Noah could barely even tell where he was within the room. The crowds around him were so thick that he might as well have been in a corn maze. There was no beginning or end to any of it. There were just people. People upon people as far as he could see.

Even if he’d had the incredible fortune to walk right past one of his students, he probably wouldn’t have recognized them without the use of his domain. He was unfortunately going to have to utilize his least favorite virtue: patience.

All I can do is count on people talking enough that word of it gets to the right ears. I’m sure it will. There’s no point stressing now and wasting a bunch of energy on a wild goose chase. For now, I’ve just got to stay out of the way until this stupid masquerade ends.

It would be fine. All he had to do was think like Moxie. The party couldn’t last forever, either. It would probably be just a few more hours. He doubted anyone wanted to schmooze for any longer than that. Even the Faction Heads would get bored.

He was sure of it.

At least, he really hoped he was.

A part of his brain started to drift as he kept moving through the crowds. It wouldn’t have been quite right to call the experience of mindlessly dodging through masked mages meditative. But there wasn’t really all that much to actually think about at the moment beyond staying ahead of the people on his tail.

His thoughts shifted to his runes.

Noah had gotten far with what he had. He was confident he’d get a fair bit farther. Every round from here on out would make more people talk about his little music stunt. But if he wanted to ensure that everyone heard about it, there was no chance he’d make it through the final rounds of the Rank 5 & 6 tournament without ranking up.

I need to figure out if there’s some kind of merchant for runes that I can access during the tournament. Either that or find a way to kill someone and steal their runes without revealing Sunder’s powers to the entirety of Obsidia. I wonder if I could somehow isolate one of the people chasing me and off them in the middle of the party. Would anyone notice?

That was a grim thought. He dismissed it. Noah doubted they were weak enough for him to dispatch without a fight, even if he was willing to go murdering people just because they were being mildly annoying. He wasn’t that far gone. Not yet.

We do have that random pull-rope thing in our room. Maybe I can special order a merchant as a side to Lee’s food terrorism.

Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

Out of the corner of his eye, Noah spotted one of the people that had been following him. It was a man in a mouse mask. He suppressed a sigh. The last time he’d seen any of his pursuers had been at least fifteen minutes ago. A part of him had been starting to hope that he’d lost them.

Noah turned, locating the nearest group to slip into so he could try to lose the man again. He stepped into it.

Then he nearly tripped over his own feet as a snide, familiar voice reached his ears.

“—were pathetic. I was expecting better.” The voice dripped with arrogance and anger in a way unique to only one man. The blood ran out of Noah’s face and his stomach clenched.

There’s no way.

His gaze flicked toward the speaker. Standing in the middle of the group was a tall man, lean, with a sharp dress suit on rather than the robes that most of the mages had opted for. It was clear he’d brought his own clothing. He wore a metal wolf mask to conceal his face, but Noah would have recognized that voice anywhere.

There’s no fucking way. It’s got to be someone else with the same voice. I couldn’t be that unlucky, right?

“It was only the first few rounds,” somebody else in the group said. “The real fights will be far later. You can’t rush a good fight. Just be patient. Look around the room. With all the people here, I’m sure at least a few of them will be worth our time.”

“I highly doubt it. We’re surrounded by the droves. Mages of no worth or power. Just look at them. Dressed in bedsheets, cowering. The first impression is a powerful weapon. One with which many battles are won. Who of any respect — unless they were trying to pretend to be a sheep — would let themselves be dressed in such a manner?” the first said. “Anyone of real worth wouldn’t be wasting in a tournament to show off for the powers that be. If He wasn’t so insistent on this, there would be a dozen things that would be more worth my time right now — like finding my brat apprentice and figuring out what she’s been hiding from me.”

Any hopes that Noah had been wrong dried up and burned away. There was no doubt at all. The owner of the voice was Kyyle.

The Apostles were here.

In the back of his mind, Noah somehow wasn’t surprised to find that Kyyle was a fashion diva. That somehow felt fitting. The man was so anal about everything that it only made sense he’d be elitist about clothing as well.

But the bigger portion of Noah’s mind was far more focused on the considerably more important issue. For some godsforsaken reason, the Apostles were at the tournament. And there were clearly at least two of them speaking to each other. That meant they’d somehow managed to find each other during the masquerade.

Noah didn’t even have the liberty to wonder how at the moment.

It would be bad if Kyyle figured out who he was. The bastard was far from the sort that took a loss easily, and Noah had humiliated him the last time they’d met. Kyyle currently believed that he was dead. It was vital that it remained that way.

Noah didn’t need yet another crazed psychopath trying to track him down. He’d already dealt with enough of those for a lifetime.

What god or goddess did I piss off to somehow run into this asshole? Out of everyone that I possibly could have seen in the tournament, this is the one I land?

He turned to slip away from the group before they could notice he’d joined them. Then his back stiffened. The mages that had been following him had closed in. There were three of them set up right at his back, positioned so that there would be no way for him to dart away without causing a commotion.

There were more on the other side of the group.

Noah’s eye twitched. It didn’t look like they were going to jump him while he was speaking, but they were definitely waiting for him to step away so they could close in around him. It seemed they’d gotten fed up with the chase.

You cannot be serious.

“Just look around you,” Kyyle was saying. “Just look. These people want to stand out. They want to be chosen from the masses. So why do they let themselves be robed in such… bland attire? There is nothing attention catching about it at all. Nobody has the guts to stand out. They just want to hide in the crowd, desperately hoping for a stroke of luck to save them. But that is not how power works. Power stands out. It shines. It burns. And anyone worthy of attention will…”

Then Kyyle trailed off.

His gaze had turned to land straight on Noah.

Ah, shit.

“Well,” Kyyle said, with what almost could have been a purr in his voice. “What do we have here? I didn’t even realize our conversation had expanded. And look at you.”

Shit, shit, shit. There’s no goddamn way I’m this unlucky.

“Those aren’t normal robes,” the mage beside Kyyle observed. “They’re imbued. Big time.”

“So they are,” Kyyle agreed, his eyes hungry behind his mask. “I have been proven wrong in a most curious fashion. But I can’t say that I’m displeased. I didn’t expect to find someone with real taste tonight. Who are you, mage?”