Corrine smirked at his claim about the GOD’s shields:


    “No, you really don’t understand the concept. This is a contested competition. There are subtleties you aren’t aware of. For example, the full GOD shields used here are top of the line. They’re better than average ones. You remember how, during our duel, you were removed from the battlefield a second before you died? That’s an example of how they protect you from psychological harm. Most of the standard ones force you to experience the death even if they restore you to full health afterwards.”


    “Is psychological harm really that much of a concern?” he scoffed.


    “A concern? Absolutely fucking yes. Fuck yes, it is.” Corrine almost yelled at him before visibly forcing herself to calm down. “I’m sorry, that was out of line. It’s just that… yes, the extra protection of the full shield is important. Once I’ve explained everything, you’ll understand. Now, as I was saying, the full GOD shield is really good. It protects against physical, psychological, and soul injuries.”


    “And Skill exhaustion?” Tom asked, remembering the trial where that was one thing that April could not fix.


    She looked at him strangely. “Yes, that’s also covered.”


    “Does it replenish fate?”


    She glared at him. “Stop interrupting. No, neither fate nor mana are restored afterwards. Not that you should worry about fate. You should go into each fight empty.” Her eyes were challenging his.


    “Easy, Corrine. I’m not going to be reckless.”


    “You better not. You use both your disk and fate before every battle, understand?!”


    “Why do you care?”


    “Because she died.” Corrine cut herself off before she said anything further. “Just use both. Please. We shouldn’t have to talk about this.”


    “I said I will, and I don’t break my word.”


    “Good. The full shield is powerful. I’ve come out of a battle and been unable to remember what had happened. It was hazy. Sometimes I can recall the start of the arena and even the appearance of my opponent, but there was one time I didn’t even remember that. I couldn’t recall anything, and then I checked the official results and saw who I’d been fighting.” She shuddered. “That’s when it made sense. I was so thankful I had a full GOD’s shield. I couldn’t remember anything, which saved my sanity. It was one of…”


    She stopped talking and looked like she wanted to run from the room and hide under a bed. For a moment, she was a terrified twelve-year-old. The confidence that she normally held herself with was gone.


    “Trust me, Tom, it gets bad. Real bad. The partial GOD shield protects you against death. It’ll fix you enough to guarantee you won’t die from your injuries. But that’s all it does. And don’t for an instant think that, if you survive, you can heal yourself fully, because it isn’t true. This competition includes terror races. There are worse things than death, and the champions of the terror races know how to bring it. I’ve seen the aftermath of someone who thought they were sufficiently resilient to go without a full shield. They weren’t. They were left with curses that couldn’t be purged. Ones to stop them healing, along with crippling damage to their soul. Every decade there is even a case of a proper regeneration ability being broken. Something like phoenix full restore ending up permanently damaged… It’s scary.”


    She stopped for a moment and glanced around. There were people in clear sight, but none of them were reacting to what was being said. It was clear that they had a privacy ward of some kind, but just muting sound and turning off the automatic translation of body language would probably have been enough to give them full confidentiality.


    “Terror races don’t think like us. There was no parallel on earth to what they are - not even a mass-murdering psychopath can compare. You have to witness the aftermaths to truly understand. Everything is fucking perfectly clinical and precisely done. They break all of you, not just your flesh and mind, they also crack your fucking abilities and scar your fucking soul. I’ve seen people survive, and then waste away afterwards, and die a few fucking weeks later.”Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    “That sounds...” Tom imagined the horror movies from Earth, and he wasn’t sure they could capture the feel of what Corrine was talking about. “Why are partial shields even a thing, then?”


    “Oh, because only a few individuals in each bucket have the skills to do that level of maiming. For every broken person that comes out from a partial shield, there are dozens or more who survive with injuries that they can fully heal. The lure of riches, the extra coins you can get, is too much of an incentive for some people, and, despite the extremes, a partial shield is statistically five times safer than none.” She licked her lips. “The rule is, don’t use a partial shield unless you have multiple redundancies in place to let you kill yourself if you run up against the wrong opponent. Those broken people thought they had safeguards, but they obviously weren’t effective.”


    “Got it.” Tom said finally. “But why the speech? I’m never going to use a partial shield, as it seems like a waste. If I’m going to win, I want no shield, and if I’m losing, I’d be an idiot not to have a full version. Caring about partial shields doesn’t work for humans.”


    “No, it doesn’t,” she agreed. “But I still think you needed to know, which brings me to the next point. The reward you get depends on the shield you enter with, but the penalty you suffer is that of the lowest shield in play. That means you can only permanently kill someone if both contestants forgo a shield. We have data that the creatures that torture only go in with a partial shield. That protects them because they can destroy the midrange fighters using a partial shield, and our better fighters can’t kill them because their shields save them.”


    “That’s unfair.”


    “It’s them exploiting the rules, just like DEUS does by giving a hand to failing species. But we try to counter-strike. The top ten in each bucket has a job, in addition to getting coins, and that is take the torturers out of play.”


    “How?” Tom started to ask and then stopped himself. His question was going to be. ‘How do they do that, if they can’t kill them?’ The answer was obvious, though. “Does DEUS really force all the strongest learn how to torture?”


    She nodded. “Technically, they all volunteer. Unofficially, they’re expected to make it count if they are lucky enough to get the opportunity. That’s the rules for the elite. But we’re all in the same spot. Everyone not using a full GOD shield has the same standing instructions.”


    “And they are?”


    “If you go in without a GOD shield, you are to kill representatives of MAKROS and FAMES and offer the chance of surrender to everyone else, unless they are recorded as having killed or maimed a DEUS representative.”


    “Does the system tell you the faction you’re fighting?”


    She nodded. “That, and how many kills and incapacitations they have achieved. An incapacitation to the system occurs when someone is effectively knocked out of fighting for a month or more following your bout. It doesn’t care whether it is due to permanent harm or purely psychological damage, or if you were actually killed in real life. So, they can be misleading.”


    “So, I’ll know if I’m against a terror race. I’ll also be able to see how many people my opponent has killed. But that doesn’t mean anything, because they might have just been killing terror races. What did you mean by that second bit? That order to kill others who had done the same to one of ours? Is there a flag to identify them?”


    “No flag, but there’s a list we maintain for everyone to memorise.”


    She waved her hand, and it was printed on the table in front of them. There were only six entries. He studied the pictures, names, and factions.


    “Really? You have to be joking. You’ve got a representative of SANATORES on the to-be-killed list? How can that be right?” he asked, arching his eyebrows to indicate his disbelief.


    “It’s above board. We think it was probably a misunderstanding. It’s also been two months since the incident, and that person hasn’t turned up again. It’s possible they realised they stuffed up and withdrew in shame.”


    Tom closed his eyes and considered the scenario. He had met the Chosen who were SANATORES’ representation in the current competition. It was easy to imagine how one of them would have reacted if they had accidentally killed a sapient. They most likely would have self-sacrificed in response. They had not been a species that knew how to cope with feelings like guilt. This other person withdrawing or doing something more extreme in the background made a lot of sense in that context.


    Corrine blatantly switched topics to the one about her future growth. She had clearly recognised his darkening mood, and had acted to see it off.  She spoke animatedly about what she planned to do once she got access to earn experience at fifteen. For her, it was still almost three years away, but it was clear she had already decided on the path she wanted to take.


    Too soon, his alarm went off and, with reluctant steps, he left to practice his war hammer skills.