Chapter XXXIV (34)- Blood and Burns

Harvey appeared dazed as he walked into the room. A trickle of blood dripped down from his cheek from where Lucus had thrown his snapped flute at him.

Lucas followed after Harvey, still chuckling with mad glee in his eyes.

“You lost more than just the match,” Lucas told him. “Every single person out there violently despises you now.”

Harvey continued staring at the wall and shrugged. “They came to watch me get pummeled for entertainment.”

“And you turned it around and unleashed torment on them instead.” Lucas didn’t reprimand him. In fact, it sounded like Lucas admired the decision.

The scrawny student in the pointed hat poked his head in. His voice quivered slightly as he called over Kizu and his opponent. Kizu had expected to have some reservations about leaving Harvey behind with Lucas, but it seemed to be a nonissue. Lucas appeared to have lost any malice he felt for the first year.

Instead, Kizu decided to worry about himself.

His opponent hardly seemed as pleasant as Harvey’s. It seemed like making him miss an opportunity to fight his friend somehow translated into a bigger insult than Harvey’s words to Lucas’ brother could ever be. Just the idea of fighting Kizu seemed to be an insult, as every look at him increased the rage on the older student’s face.

He and his opponent separated and went to opposite ends of the courtyard. The scrawny student walked up to Arclight, who sat at a desk to the side. She marked something on a piece of parchment. Kizu couldn’t help but notice she didn’t seem to be in an overly pleasant mood. Her usual cheery demeanor replaced by a neutral expression.

Kizu assumed her mood likely reflected the fact that over two dozen students were still in the process of being escorted off the courtyard. Some of them covered head to toe in white bandages. Kizu stifled the feeling of dread. He promised to himself that he wouldn’t be exiting the courtyard in a similar fashion.

He just hoped he could keep that promise.

It took a few minutes before Arclight cleared everything up. In that time, Kizu eyed his opponent. Not quite as tall as Lucas. But twice as broad. His shoulders were easily a meter wide, and his biceps were the width of a small tree. Definitely not someone Kizu would choose to pick a fight with. Kizu had no spells to summon others to his aid like Harvey. And, even if he did, the remaining spectators looked far more cautious about their seats. Several of them had even found wax to cram into their ears. They knew he was Harvey’s friend and expected similar tricks from them. Which was hardly a fair judgment.

“Keep things civil,” Arclight said as Kizu approached his opponent to shake hands. “The match is to first blood. You must stay within the parameters of the courtyard.”

Arclight continued on with more rules, but Kizu lost focus when his opponent growled, “I can break every bone in your body without shedding a drop of blood.”

Kizu felt the malice was a bit unfairly distributed. He had no idea what he’d done to deserve this treatment. But he said nothing and pretended to listen to Arclight.

As they stepped back from one another, Kizu reached into his jacket and withdrew a vial he had prepared a few days earlier. The recipe implied the best results were after letting it sit and separate for a week, but the potion should be good enough as is now that it had been a few days. As far as the recipe explained, it was mostly for the user’s comfort that it demanded so much time before use. He bit the cork and spit it out on the courtyard dirt.

The crowd watched as he guzzled the contents down in three gulps. The concoction caused his throat to burn. It felt like thousands of ants crawling down the back of his tongue and nesting in his esophagus. His eyes watered but he didn’t dare wipe them, afraid of getting the potion’s residue in them.

Finally, Arclight’s whistle signified the start of their bout. His opponent leapt forward, his arm morphing into a monstrous paw with talon-like claws. He cleared the distance between them in mere moments.

But Kizu was ready. In fact, he felt more than ready. He let the building gas out of his body in what felt like a painful burp. The moment the gas met the air, it ignited. Flames seared Kizu’s lips, and he had to close his eyes to avoid burning them. The pressure released knocked him backwards from his feet.

He gasped for breath as soon as the tirade of fire ended. To his dismay, his opponent was barely singed from the attack. Kizu supposed he must have lept back just in time to only singe his eyebrows off. The older boy eyed him with caution, obviously not convinced the flames were out of his system. And wisely so. Kizu buckled over and heaved out more fire, attempting to spew it in the opponent’s direction.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

It took several minutes before Kizu finally felt the fire finally start to extinguish in his stomach. He was grateful for the fact he never had to use one of the potions against the vampiric spawn. It probably would have felt even worse if used a day earlier.

Kizu crouched on all fours, panting wildly while staring down at the dirt. He felt absolutely horrible.

But the battle wasn’t over. Not even close. His opponent still circled around him, wary. The clawed arm he had created clenched and unclenched with obvious irritation.

While he stood behind Kizu, Kizu uncorked another vial and drained it. All hopes it might go down easier the second time were in vain. If anything, the second vial felt worse, his throat still raw from the first dose.

But it also yielded results far quicker than the first vial. And Kizu was grateful for that fact as his opponent descended on him from behind.

Kizu flipped himself around to face the sky right as his opponent struck. The fire physically lifted Kizu’s opponent into the air as it blasted him backward.

Not nearly far enough, Kizu reflected. He had hoped to force the older boy out of the courtyard to disqualify him from the test. The burns that covered him weren’t actually anything serious. Somehow the boy had raised an antimagic shield up to block Kizu’s attack the moment it hit. And now the large student was back to cautiously prowling around him. He growled like an irritated ocelot.

When Kizu felt the potion wearing off, he decided to try one last ploy. This time he uncorked a potion while in view of the older student. He didn’t hide the fact as he gulped it down. However, what he did do was cover the second vial with an illusion, camouflaging it with skin color, effectively making it invisible. He did his best to drain them straight down his throat, though every taste bud on his tongue was likely already burned off. It took a surprising amount of focus to keep the illusion up as he palmed the empty second vial. His vision blurred as his eyes burned. Tears streamed down his face. He blinked rapidly to try to better see. The flames seared not only his lips this time but seemed to trail down his throat to burn the inside of his lungs as well. Even if he wanted to drink more, his body wouldn’t be able to handle another potion. He was at his limit.

Thankfully, he wasn’t the only one about to be hurt by the fire’s effects. Expecting the same results as his previous two fire breathing potions, his opponent had stood just outside of that previous range. But completely within range for the effects of two vials. The fire engulfed his opponent. The older student screamed, but it sounded like pure rage, not out of pain. Kizu lost his vision and blacked out for a moment while his insides throbbed in agony.

When Kizu finally collapsed to the ground, it took all his effort to look up at his results. His opponent was far more than singed as he crouched on the ground a stone’s throw away. He looked even worse than Kizu felt. His entire body was covered in burns. Eyelashes and unibrow completely burned away, the hair he did still have, emerged in tufts from his now red scalp. His opponent’s uniform appeared seared into his chest’s flesh. But his eyes appeared to be fine as he glared daggers at Kizu.

Then his opponent heaved himself up to his feet. His arms swung like pendulums as he approached Kizu. Kizu realized that, despite all the burns, he still hadn’t drawn first blood. He hadn’t thought about that. He’d been so focused on beating his enemy he forgot to focus on the actual rules. In a panic, Kizu looked over to the boundary line. He scooted in that direction.

The kick his opponent landed on his head sent the world spinning. But the kick was only the beginning. Kizu tried to curl into a ball, but the next kick cracked that defense like an egg, his opponent’s foot slamming into his forehead. The older student unleashed a surplus of anger on Kizu. Despite his charred body, he appeared to have plenty of energy left to burn. Strike after strike landed all across Kizu’s crumpled body. Whenever he attempted to reposition to cover a new tender spot, his opponent created a new one through brute force.

Kizu heard a deep crack from his leg as the older student brought down his full weight on it. The pain followed the noise after a split-second delay. Horrible pain. He wanted to bend over and clutch the broken limb, but his body protested as he squirmed. The older student grabbed the shattered leg with both hands and twisted. He wrung out Kizu’s leg like a soaked rag. Kizu lost all ability to function, agony paralyzed him. He felt the tendons and muscle tearing. He blacked out for the second time in the match. And then, as a wakeup call, his opponent bent over and punched him between the eyes. Kizu welcomed that new pain. It helped distract him from his leg.

“First blood,” Arclight said. “Separate. Now.”

His opponent landed one last kick to the back of his head before stepping back. Kizu flopped over once the beating subsided. Unable to comply with Arclight’s command, he just stared up at the sky. His vision swam. The sun bobbed above him. Every piece of him hurt. He wanted to just stay there for a little bit. He wondered vaguely what had finally started bleeding. Bruises and broken bones don’t bleed any more than burns. Maybe his bone had pierced through his leg. That would make sense. Then an iron taste dribbled into his mouth. Blood.

He raised a bruised arm, and his hand touched the wet patch of skin on his forehead where his opponent had punched him.

“Lay still,” someone directed him. His face swam in Kizu’s vision. It looked familiar. He stretched his memory for a name.

“Edgar,” he finally said, satisfied by his memory.

“Yes. Now lay still. I need to move the leg back into position. Even the best rejuvenation and restoration mage won’t be able to fix your leg completely if it stays like that for too long.”

“Of course.” Kizu tried to sound rational. But he felt like he was floating. The pain of his body kept him in a state of mind where nothing felt real.

Edgar tore off his pant leg and Kizu heard the medical student suck in on his teeth. Then there was a brief sensation of warmth right before the overwhelming pain.