Originally, I thought these weapons were a couple of centuries old, but then Maud asked me about them after she sparred with Arland. She thought the weapon set was a lot older, so when things calmed down, I dug through the Gertrude Hunt archives until I finally found a mention of it. The set was brought to Gertrude Hunt by one of my predecessors, who inherited it from a much older, now destroyed inn.

Once I figured out where the weapons came from, I immediately took the set of practice daggers from the rack and put them into a special box for my niece. Helen would flip.

Bestata condescended to look at me. “Which hero?”

I’d dealt with many vampires over my life, but none of them had sneered at me as much as Bestata had. I wasn’t sure if it was just her default expression, but there was a limit to my patience.

“Press the black dagger-shaped switch on the side,” I told her.

She examined the weapon rack. Her fingers found the switch.

A hologram of a giant dark-skinned vampire woman tore out of the rack. She wore ancient armor with ornate metal pauldrons and a cuirass sitting over the syn-armor, a style that came from a time when vampires didn’t fully trust the new technology and stubbornly held on to their metal for a century too long. A scar crossed her face, ripping through her lip. Her eyes blazed.

The vampire raised a huge axe to the sky and roared, displaying frightening fangs. Bestata and Karat shied back on pure instinct. Marais jerked awake and jumped to his feet.

“I, Sileta of House Korsa, Daughter of Lorsan and Delendine, Granddaughter of Olasard the Ripper of Souls, gift these weapons to this inn,” the vampire declared. “May the descendants of our great nation use them to better themselves during their travels. Let their weapons strike true, and let their will never falter. Let them bring death to all Mukama across stars and time!”

I sipped my coffee.

The recording vanished.

Sean looked at me.

That’s right. You thought you knew all my secrets. You haven’t even scratched the surface, buddy.

I smiled and gave him a little salute with my coffee cup.

“This is a holy relic,” Bestata hissed.

“No, it’s just a practice weapon rack with a long history,” I said. “Does Lady Emindra feel unequal to the challenge?”

Bestata glared at me. “My skills are beyond contestation.”

Karat chuckled.

“Splendid,” I said. “All of us look forward to witnessing you honor your ancestors. The spirit of Olasard’s granddaughter is watching. No pressure.”

* * *

Kosandion decided to hold the elimination in the arena.