THE WILL-IMBUED ANGUIS SOLDIER SNARLS as he leaps at me.

There’s no subtlety, no cat-and-mouse here. He covers the twenty feet between us in a single, powerful lunge, fist drawn back. No mistaking his intent.

I’m prepared for the attack and still only barely dive away in time. Climbing up here, some part of me wondered if I had a chance in a straight fight, my victory over the Sextus in Letens in the back of my mind. Now it’s too late, I can see how ridiculous a thought that was. My opponent in the Theatre was barely a fighter, weak for his rank, and even then I only beat him because he decided to ignore me. There’s no crowd here. No distractions.

And this man… this man seems neither weak nor inexperienced.

The realisations come in a wave as the guard’s fist crashes down on the spot I was standing. The tower shakes as stone shatters, chunks the size of my fist spraying away off the side and vanishing into the steadily darkening void. I roll back to my feet, breath coming heavy. He’s a Sextus, then; no Septimus could do that. A cloud of dust drifts across the nearest torch as he turns. Brushes debris off his knuckles with a wide smile. “Melior will be watching this with great joy.”

The Will of the Many Chapter 72