Flames washed over Brand vanishing into a clod breeze. Laughing despite the burning sensation on his skin, he ran forward shattering a mana shield that once would have stopped him like an iron wall.
In an instant, his opponent’s small metallic shield, the only defense he had left, went up to defend against Brand’s kick. The circle of metal bent, shattering the bones in his defending arm as he was sent flying out of the arena and into the onlooking crowd.
“That’s the match,” the instructor said. He spoke to the audience that swelled after every fight Brand won. “Here’s some advice, stop using fire magic. I think he likes it.”
Brand did indeed like being bathed in flame. It was by far the easiest form of energy to convert to mana keeping his well of power topped off for seven fights now. He had to keep the mana he couldn’t contain inside invisible spells around his body that decayed slowly. When needed, he broke the spells down using the mana within as his own.
“I’m ready for more,” Brand said to his teacher.
“You really aren’t tired yet?” The monk asked in disbelief.
“I don’t think there will be anyone but me standing here for the rest of the day,” Brand boasted.
The monk opened his ledger containing every student in his mystery and their rankings. “You may be right if I don’t jump past a few ranks.”
Rank in the martial mysteries was determined strictly by win ratio. Brand was at the very bottom, only facing those that were new or lost more often than not. When the time came to move onto greater studies, only those with sufficiently high ranks would progress. To not waste the time of more gifted students, one could request consecutive matches with a higher-ranked student after every win. It was the only hope he had of not being left behind.
“Noreen,” the monk called out. “Take center stage.”
Brand watched the proud noble leave the crowd without the confidence she possessed in their previous fights. She wore leather-wrapped chainmail that hugged her form with a sword and her right arm plated in armor.
Brand had to mentally stop himself from smiling too much. When she was ranked low enough to face him, this girl cut off his limbs with such frequency it was clearly her goal or some kind of game. Usually, she’d forgo wearing any protection at all, deeming it unnecessary when facing someone so powerless. Now she saw him as a legitimate threat.
She was the main reason he found it necessary to learn healing magic in the tower of life so quickly. Without it, Brand feared that one day he may bleed to death after a particularly bloody loss.
Noreen drew her sword, a family heirloom she was allowed to bring into the Hall. Long, with a single-bladed edge, the sword was the envy of many in the crowd for being one of the few weapons made with Damascus steel. Only her family could create the valuable metal with their focus to manipulate metal.
With that blade, she could cast magic through it as if it were a wand; the mana amplified instead of being hindered by the metal. It didn't matter to Brand. Whatever she sent at his defensive aura of spells would be repelled and it was only a matter of time before he’d get his hands on her.
The match began as Brand finished cycling the spells etched into his being like washing himself too hot water for an instant. Noreen meanwhile, floated several metal spheres around herself, each glowing with a different colored energy.
Making a horizontal slash, Noreen’s blade released a mage bolt along its edge. Before the near-invisible spell could cleave Brand in half, he activated his defense aura making his skin come alive with pain.
A spell used to unravel magical bindings enveloped him as a white aura melting Noreen’s thin blade of magic. Before all of it could dissipate, Brand absorbed magic using the energy to cast several more defensive shields around himself.
Not hesitating for a moment, Noreen waved a hand spreading her metal spheres around the arena. All at once, they rained arcane destruction down on Brand, each throwing a different element, ailment, and enneagram in hopes of breaking through whatever defenses he held.
Spells of anti-life, body locking, shield degrading and more dissolved and bounce off Brand while he struggled to walk forward against the burning. On his ninth step like walking through a furnace, he throttled his mana and flashed forward cracking tiles when his feet hit the ground like hammers.
Noreen on reflex created a large mana shield around herself, one too big to defend against any normal attack but more than enough to stop Brand from gaining ground, or at least it would have stopped Brand before today.
As a mage without speed, without skill, Noreen swung at Brand hastily, her sword missing him as he ducked underneath it. He took hold of one of her leather armor straps in one hand, lifted her off her feet, and spun the now panicking noble in a complete circle before throwing her out of the ring and into a wall with a crunch of bone echoing throughout the room.
Brand looked to the teacher with a smile as his opponent hit the ground motionless. “Who's next?”
****
Cora gripped her blade nearly warping its handle as she waited for her time to fight. She’d always liked Brand’s attitude towards combat and his insatiable need for strength. It mirrored her father’s who was a brute of a striker and quite possibly the strongest member of the secret group of magi.
She wanted nothing more than to fight him as he was now so she could finally let loose the skills she’d spent years honing but now had to hide. His lack of a proper weapon or the mana to enchant armor would still be a problem, but Tanya had assured her that he found a way to compensate.
“How could Noreen have lost?” Mildrith said, causing Cora to roll her eyes. “She's a B-ranked mage with a Damascus blade.”
Cora placed a hand over her mouth hiding her amusement. It was obvious to her that Brand was built to be a mage killer. If Noreen knew how to handle her sword, she may have stood a chance, but like most here, she leaned too heavily on her focus and expensive equipment.
The only decent move she made was bombarding Brand with as many types of magic as she could. Although, a better plan would have been to attack him directly with the metal spheres, but Cora believed it would have made little difference in the end.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
The next opponent Brand faced was a strange one. He was a cultivator whose focus made material his mana entered including his own body act like rubber. Cora guessed the teacher thought making Brand fight someone who essentially couldn't be harmed from blunt attacks would end his winning streak. Unfortunately for the rubber man, he still had to breathe and circulate blood throughout his body. The fight ended when Brand twisted his head around cutting off all circulation to his brain.
The next few matches were just as boring. Cora wanted to confront the monk and demand to fight. Working his way up the ranks was a waste of everyone’s time, but today’s mystery had become more of a show than anything.
Monks from other classes abandoned their lessons to see the commotion. Students from higher mysteries took the day off after hearing a barehanded fighter won several matches in a row and the betting pool for Brand’s eventual loss was growing larger by the hour.
When Cora’s name was finally called, she practically ran onto the arena.
“Well, aren’t you excited,” Brand said cheerfully, but there was a tremble in his hands, the ghost of pain ignored but was there and probably getting worse.
“I’m just happy someone here knows how to fight,” Cora said, matching his cheer.
Brand tilted his head in Dagfinn’s direction. “You mean someone other than you and your guy.”
Cora didn’t bother responding. Dagfinn already told her that Brand knew they were hiding their skill. Instead, she commented on his personal aura that seemed to be impenetrable.
“You’re a walking fortress,” Cora said. “Those runes are used to unravel spells, but they've only been used on defensible fortifications until now."
“Has anyone else figured it out?” Brand asked.
“Not that I’ve seen,” Cora smiled. “Something so involved could only be used as enchantment until now, so it doesn't come to mind when trying to figure out what you're doing. What I really want to know is how you're going to stop my sword from biting you.”
“Who knows,” Brand taunted. “But I like the name walking fortress. It fits my magic perfectly.”
Cora drew her great sword and held forward with both hands. “I'm not some fragile little lady that’s frightened of big swords. And there's no way I’m letting you wrestle me to the ground.”
Brand shrugged his shoulders with his hands raised as if posing a question. “Then how am I supposed to win? I've got no weapons.”
Cora imbued her sword and armor with mana reciting a striker proverb as she did. “We are the weapon.”
Without any warning, she flew forward sword raised, and body throttling mana to empower her strike. This was the way Cora had been taught to fight. There should be no delay between the throttling of one’s mana and an attack, leaving opponents surprised and unable to react in time.
She was ready for Brand to evade her swing. If he jumped back, she would still cut deeply but she was ready to turn her sword to whichever side he moved. Surprisingly, he raised his hands as if holding a weapon to defend himself. With a clang of metal, Cora’s blade was stopped when Brand hooked it with a massive ax made of faintly glowing blue mana that appeared in his hand.
The weapon was a thing of beauty. Its blade looked to be made of silvery metal with dozens of runes carved into its surface. The handle was about four feet of slightly curved wood wrapped in a cloth to support the massive blade that was almost half its length. The blade’s edge glowed with a rainbow of colors, each a different effect to cleave through whatever it touched. If the weight of the weapon was accurate to its size and the sound Core heard from striking it, 200 pounds would be a low estimate.
The strength of the attack forced Brand’s feet an inch into the ground with cracks radiating out in all directions. Although Surprised by her empowered strike being blocked, Cora dodged backward as one of Brand’s hands let go of his ax and thrust forward with a spear that appeared out of nowhere.
It just barely missed her stomach but sliced through her armor like a hot knife through butter. She managed to escape before the blade reached her throttling mana like a contained explosion of strength and speed.
Not giving her breathing room, Brand threw the ax which she swatted away with her sword leaving a deep gouge in the blade, but the maneuver left her vulnerable.
Seizing the opening, Brand lunged forward with his spear aimed for her shoulder. The striker smiled as she increased her mana flow more than she had in any other fight within the Hall.
Cora met Brand’s spear with her sword in time to avoid being pierced. Making sure to keep his weapon against her’s, Brand materialized a second spear attacking above the first. Cora ducked and rolled to the side to disengage but Brand was unrelenting. The pain he was in was written across his face and hurried his movement in a frantic mad dash for victory.
Cora parried a reckless thrust then turned her sword to draw blood. Before she could, the second spear forced her back with a slash to her chest then another came for her feet, slicing across the floor as she retreated.
They danced around the arena, neither drawing blood and both moving in a blur. Their parries, blocks, and colliding weapons could be felt as waves of force throughout the room. The spells Cora and Brand applied to their armaments sent flashes of light and sparks that exploded on the ground when both fought to overcome the other.
It seemed the winner would be the one that ran out of mana or stamina first. Cora was confident in both regards but Brand should have fallen by now. Whatever new tricks he had must have extended his mana pool considerably. The only thing she could do to guarantee victory was to open her sealed gates or use her focus.
Cora decided to use her focus and shined with a white light that blinded Brand and forced all eyes to look away. While blazing like the sun, she swung to open a wound across his chest and end the match. Before she could connect, half a dozen fist-sized fireballs appeared out of nowhere slamming into her.
They all came from Brand’s direction, but he hadn’t made any gestures or formed any spell circles she could see. They just appeared as if they were formed from nothing.
Skin burned as Cora’s armor heated. The pain, like being cooked in one's armor was why most cultivators never passed the first mysteries. Being forced to depend on the strength of arms left most vulnerable to long-ranged spells they were forced to endure. But Cora had endured worse.
She followed through on her swing but only met air as Brand dodged, sky-stepping into the air. A halberd appeared from nowhere replacing the spear and came down glancing off Cora's helm like a being brained with a hammer.
She moved side to side fighting off the throbbing, the dizziness, the blood pouring into her eyes as Brand sky-stepped forward, attacking with a higher ground advantage.
With a final overhead swing, he brought his weapon down one Cora’s sword cutting into it like a tree. Her knees and the ground buckled under the weight punching a creator into the surface. Brand let himself fall, his attack grew stronger, heavier, and more so with every heartbeat.
“How are you doing this?” Cora groaned as she sank up to her waist into the ground.
Brand smiled, his feature a mixture of agony and victory as he forced Cora’s sword against her armor. “Gravity magic!” The blade itself warped under the assault as his tattoos grew brighter.
As soon as he said it, Cora finally noticed the web of runes glowing across his body, the set used to manipulate gravity. It was a far too complex spell form to cast or control without its focus but here he was using it with ease along with a hundred other spells at the same time.
When blood down her beast shed by her own blade biting into her shoulder, Cora stopped holding back. She collected mana into her left eye, then with a flash, released most of her power in a straight line of light that burned a hole through Brand’s shoulder without any kind of resistance.
The ax disappeared as he fell back holding the smoking wound.
Cora quickly made her way out of the depression she’d made ready to continue the fight but was stopped before closing on Brand.
“That’s the match,” the monk said, stopping her as she raised her sword to attack.
“What!“ Cora shouted. She pointed her blade at Brand with one hand like an accusing finger. “He’s still on his feet with only a minor injury. We are not done!”
The monk pointed to Brand. “You think that’s a minor wound?”
“Shit,” Cora whispered. Hellish striker train was horrible, but it was also a hard habit to break.
“He’s right,” Brand said. Cora then noticed how much more he trembled now, especially his feet as if trying not to fall. “I can’t move my left arm with a hole in it and I need them both to fight you. Plus, I’m running low on mana.”
Cora laughed, sheathing her sword in bitter disappointment. “Your form is terrible.” She wrapped her arm around Brand’s waist just as his shaky legs failed him. “But you're pretty damned good.”