We were in the hypogeum, the underground foundations beneath the arena. According to yet another of Kara's insights, it was darkly called the bloodworks by the older apprentices. The staging area of the combat amphitheater, the hypogeum, was vaguely crypt-like—if not in its meticulous cleanliness, then in its starkly arching vaults and wide naves and aisles.

A good majority of my peers looked very displeased by the most recent of Master Steelvein's brief, colorless instructions.

"I hardly know how to use any of these," Kara complained.

"I could teach you how to use a sword and about some things with a bow."

She looked at me almost skeptically. "I didn't get to see you using your sword much, but I'm sure you're better than I am," she paused for a moment. "Maybe we can later, but it doesn't help with the right now."

Garron didn't say anything as we selected practice weapons from the rack. There was only one theme for today's training session as per Steelvein's orders: no magic, only weapons.

Kara eventually selected a small shortsword and buckler. Like all of the other weapons, her blade was made entirely of mostly-blunted wood. There was just enough of a rather dull edge to the practice weapons to make them something to be wary of.

I didn't feel comfortable leaving Mytharis down in the bloodworks. I'd keep it on my waist; it wasn't like any of the practice weapons were hanging on the racks with scabbards to wear. On that note, I selected the closest thing to my own blade out of the offered assortment of wooden armaments.

The sword I selected was surprisingly well-weighted, but not as comfortable in my palm as either Mytharis or the baneoak sparring blades my father had made for my mother and me—but it'd do.

"Out onto the sands," Master Steelvein ordered. To my surprise, the roughened instructor stopped to stare in his unreadable way at me. "Today you'll show me why you carry that sword."

Was that the slightest hint of approval I read in his words? It was very hard to tell, and as likely to be my hopeful imagination as it was to be a possible fact. "Yes, master."

Steelvein nodded at me and walked towards the stairs that had led us down to the bloodworks. Kara and Garron, who was notably holding a simple wooden great staff now, walked beside me as we ascended after the instructor with the other acoyltes.

The climbing and dimly mana-lit stairs led us up through the long, barren hallway and raised portcullis that separated the bloodworks from the arena sands.

Steelvein walked a good distance from the bloodwork gates and spoke a word of power. Sigils flashed, one after another, across dozens of sections of the soft ground. The arena rumbled as rings of jagged, solid earth were transmuted into existence around where each of the spell circles had appeared. Every one of the rings had only a single, narrow opening. Each of the earth walls was also low enough for an averagely tall young adult to peer comfortably over.

"All of you will deplete your mana in battle one day, if you ever enter it. That will not be the first day that you fight without your spells," Steelvein said and scanned the many still-disgruntled or disappointed looks. "I see your faces. I do not care. You are mages, but you still bleed. You will grow accustomed to every sort of pain here so it doesn't follow you beyond my arena. None of you will choose who you fight today. Prepare yourselves; I will only announce your partners once. When I say your name, go to the dueling circle I point to."

The master mage then went on to prove that he had a memory that could very possibly rival my own. A little less than four hundred students stood before him; he without effort or error began to name and pair all of us off.

When my name was called and my partner declared, I felt a flicker of irritation fill me. "Peregrine Borncrest, Cedric Stormwind."

I didn't bother to look for Cedric or his gaze. I merely departed towards the dueling circle that the master had pointed out as mine for the day.

"Good luck," Kara called after me, with a lace of dark concern.

Garron didn't say anything, but I thought I felt his accounting eyes on my back.

"Borncrest," the voice I was not looking forward to hearing, addressed me as I was already halfway to the opposite side of the sparring circle.

I turned to see Cedric. He had selected a wooden arming sword. His acolyte robes were notably full-robes, not open-faced and including trousers like my own did—he had the robes of a pure mage.

"Cedric," I said.

"I've watched you use your sword," Cedric told me. "You're not terrible."

The boy in front of me spun his own weapon in his hand. I could tell by his stance that he wasn't untrained. That surprised me, but maybe it shouldn't have; his brother Luke was beautifully adept at wielding his glaive.

"You're trained," I said.

Cedric's face didn't change much at my comment.

"We'll see how well you are today," he told me.

As we spoke, another spell sigil appeared between us in the center of the earthen ring. A pair of rock-formed arms pulled themselves from the brown earth of the stone beneath the new glowing circle. The rocks themselves pushed out from inbetween the heaving arms and formed into a bald, vaguely canine-looking head. The creature, with golden sigils covering its face, shook its maw once and then twice as it pulled its hindlegs from out of the stone as well.

The creature looked at us both and then opened its toothless, glowing mouth. "No killing, cease when commanded, no magic. Ten rounds."

Its words were gravely and broken, echoing like a stone tossed into a well, and very inhuman.

"When do we start?" Cedric asked the creature.

The stone head turned slowly to then stare at him; it didn't breathe; it didn't shake even slightly.

"Now," it said. "I will watch."

Mile lowered himself into a fighting stance next to me.

"He can use his dog?" Cedric asked the summoned creature.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

The thing didn't turn its eyes to even look away from the blonde when it replied. "Familiars are allowed if they don't cast sigils."

Cedric frowned at that.

I took in a deep breath. For some reason, whenever Cedric was around, I felt an uncomfortable tension, even though I objectively told myself there was no reason for him to bother me. I didn't want to take up space in my own mind to dislike him; I wanted to give him chances to change my opinion, but I just couldn't help but wish he weren't near me.

Hunt? Mile asked me.

Practice, I told him.

Goblin, Mile referred to Cedric and growled.

No biting; just watch my blind spots for me, I told the dog.

I walked towards my opponent carefully. I wasn't sure of his exact capabilities yet, and I half expected him to come at me with sudden violence.

Cedric surprised me by also carefully measuring me as he approached me in kind.

When we were within stepping distance of each other, I saw an opening, but I didn't take it outright. I hesitated to capitalize on the obvious flaw in his stance; I didn't want to let my blossoming dislike for Cedric force me to sully what still had the chance to be a civil spar and learning experience.

The blonde mage in front of me, however, did not hesitate. He lunged directly towards me. I stepped back out of the way of his sword strike, and it whooshed past my face. It wasn't especially hard to avoid his attack.

Cedric came in at me again. He wasn't a complete novice with the blade, but he obviously hadn't trained as much as I had. I deflected a side-swipe of his weapon and halted a strike of my own right in front of his throat.

"Cease," the voice of the stone summons said violently. "The round is his. Back up five steps each."

I was close enough to see the frustration bloom in Cedric's eyes, to see his nose twitch and the barest bit of his teeth show.

The next round went much the same. I tried to let Cedric get a few chances at me in to allow him to learn something from our duel, but ultimately I was forced to actually try somewhat to push back his growingly aggressive strikes.

"Cease," the summon said again as I once more halted my sword—this time to the side of Cedric's head.

Round after round went to me. Nine times I won in total. By round seven, I had started reveling, at least a little bit, in my own ability. Cedric was growing angrier and angrier, sloppier and sloppier; he was sweating. Although I made an effort to control my pride, it was cathartic to watch the haughty noble be put in his place with my own hands.

Round ten started much as the rest had. Cedric swung for my head right off this time, and I dove under his sword. Mile barked and sent a telepathic image of what he was seeing Cedric do behind my back, alerting me to my opponent's follow-up strike. I side-stepped the couched thrust Cedric aimed towards my spine without directly turning to see it.

I stepped back and held my blade up towards Cedric, a bit mockingly, allowing myself to more openly goad him for the first time. I'd held the welling satisfaction in for the entirety of the duel, just barely. I'd kept my own smugness hidden from my actual movements until that exact moment.

Cedric's eyes glowered, and he glanced towards Mile.

Something felt wrong.

My elation died a moment after Cedric dove forward but not at me. I wasn't in a firm enough stance to react to what he was doing quickly now that he'd switched targets and I'd put space between us to mockingly give him time to recoup. I'd grown too cocky.

Cedric's practice sword descended towards Mile. The dog was quick and dodged the blow; my companion reared back, preparing to launch himself at Cedric's lowered arm, but the dog hesitated right before he let his legs spring off of the ground. He hesitated because of me, because I'd told him not to bite.

I watched as Cedric grabbed onto the moment of opportunity, the only chance he'd had to actually hit something in all our rounds of combat, and to vent the frustration that I'd just finally stoked to a melting point.

The blonde mage's boot collided with Mile's midsection. The dog yelped.

My shock turned into rage.

"Why!" I shouted and stepped forward. "He didn't attack you! I told him not to; you saw him avoiding it this entire time!"

Cedric turned his gaze from Mile, who still didn't attack him, and stared daggers at me.

"He was a part of this," Cedric said. "He helped you."

My body moved on its own. Mile was fine; I could feel that much over our bond despite experiencing his pain as well; he likely just had a bruised rib. Even that much was unacceptable, though.

No one would hurt my family in front of me ever again; I'd promised that to myself and to them even if they didn't know it.

Cedric didn't charge me first this time.

Not that I gave him the chance. He tried to ward me off with his practice blade; I didn't need to activate [strike redirection], but I did anyway. My life force flowed through me, amplifying the beating of my heart in my ears.

I struck Cedric violently below his knee with my skill-enhanced speed, where I knew the wooden blade would vibrate his bone painfully. I also knew it wouldn't count as a lethal blow. It wouldn't end the match.

Cedric grunted, not giving me the satisfaction of anything greater. I recovered my sword swing and impacted with his ribs; I put the full force of both of my arms into the blow. I felt something break under the wood of my borrowed sword.

My opponent stumbled. I saw an opening to strike him on the head; I didn't. I could keep it from killing him, but it felt too far even despite my anger. I aimed for his shins instead, lowering my level in a forward lunge strike.

Cedric fell when my blade slammed hard against the bone above his foot.

I wanted to kick his arrogant face now that he was grounded, but I still didn't step over the line. I held my sword out to his neck once more. My rage was simmering back down now that I'd hurt him back.

"Cease," the watchful stone creature said from where it observed our duel roughly ten feet from us.

Cedric lowered his eyes. I lowered my sword.

"None of this had to be this way," I said.

Cedric kept his eyes hidden from me. He made his hands into fists.

Mile, mostly recovered now, suddenly barked a warning. My four-legged companion urgently and violently pushed a smell across our druidic bond: the smell of mana.

"CEASE!" the stone summon commanded.

I stepped backwards quickly away from Cedric. I wasn't quite quick enough.

My defeated opponent raised his angry eyes at me, and I saw that they were glowing like blue stars. His hand thrust out the moment I met those mana-filled eyes of his. Cedric formed a sign at the same time he looked up and had forced out a word of power before he even fully had.

I had a split-second; only a split-second. I raised my hand defensively and a reflex from hours of practice kicked in. My mana-circuits poured power into my palm and a mirage-like shield erupted from it.

[You have acquired the Lesser Ward spell at the novice level.]

But my ward was designed to stop physical attacks, not mana. It could defend against elemental magic somewhat, but it wasn't what it was for. And I'd cast it too last-second.

There was a sizzling crack as Cedric's lightning hit the semi-physical barrier I'd conjured and shattered it. The mana of my barrier dissipated and dispersed with a flash of mystical contact.

It was my palm itself that took Cedric's spell bolt directly. My body had moved to protect itself at the last moment thanks to Mile's warning; I was fairly certain he'd been aiming for my heart--and would've hit it had I not been warned.

Pain rushed through me. A burning, twitching, spasming agony that was both numbing and sharp at the same time.

Mile barked as loudly as I'd ever heard him--as violently too.

Cedric was trying to stand. I dropped my sword, freeing up my only moveable hand, and reached into my component pouch. Before I knew what I was doing, I'd thrown a number of vine cuttings at Cedric. My druidic aura barely activated as static laced up and down my mana-circuits, but I forced it to. Through the aura, I fed [growth] and [direct flora] into the cuttings as they impacted Cedric's chest.

My opponent's eyes widened in realization as the cuttings grew and wrapped around his entire upper body, being fed by a good portion of my mystical energy to enable them to do so rapidly

Mile was already jumping for Cedric's throat, with his teeth barred, by the time the other boy was falling towards the ground.

There was a loud shifting and reverberation as a blur of stone knocked Mile back towards me. The dog yelped again.

The stone creature that both Cedric and now I had ignored guarded the ensnared body of the lightning mage.

"CEASE! NOW!" The stone summon commanded; its body had grown by at least a factor of six, becoming entirely more beastlike and predatory as it had, and it now towered over me.

I stumbled back, holding onto my throbbing and unmoving arm. My druidic aura receded back into my body, and I felt very, very weak.

My eyes glanced to Mile. The dog was fine and had landed on his hind legs when the stone creature had knocked him back; it would just be another bruise. But he was still hurt because of me--again.

"Okay," I told the hulking creature. "Okay. I'm sorry."