Heavy breaths escape me.

“Try to avoid the face, won’t you?!”

Wind sweeps through my beautiful hair. I narrowly dodge a punch from Ceylica, leaping over an unoccupied table and three bowls of soup as I make my getaway.

“HarGH haaah.”

I don’t know how long I can keep this up, to be honest. Just approximating from our brief exchange alone, this Ceylica barbarian is not only strong but fast as well.

“GET BACK HERE!”

The smoke of a nearby stall envelops me, choking out a cough as the scent of barbequed meat enters my nostrils. Taking the briefest of pauses, I continue my run between the open market, shooting glances to nearby pedestrians all the while.

“All according to plan.”

Having caught wind of our fight, the students are all eyes on us now, regarding us like some after-school entertainment.

Good.

Public attention suits me.

“I’MMMM COMIN’ FERRR YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.”

She’s really got me by the short hairs… With just a quick glance back, I can see her gaining speed, gradually closing the distance between us!

“Pienta!”

With my incantation and an open right palm—a bright blue ball of magic forms, flying Ceylica’s way at the speed of an arrow.

“BLUE BALLS WON’T WORK ON MEH, LUCIUS!”

She tanks the hit straight to the face, without so much as a minuscule delay in speed!

“Tch.”

So my tier of magic won’t work on her after all. Damned demons and their resistances!

“Calm down, Lucius, just two more steps…”

As long as I stick to the plan, things should still go fine. With my impending objective being little more than two stalls away, my only goal is to delay as long as I can, setting whatever hurdles I can for ol’ Ceylica along the way.

“Ah!”

An object enters view. A long flexible tube, patterned with green and blue, connected to some off-view tap. Just as expected, I’d come across it one and a half minutes into my run, already set in position…

“LUCIU—”

I spin upon my heel. Then, ducking down, grab the hose, and point it straight at Ceylica. Upon turning the nozzle, a stream of water shoots out, coming at a preset pressure of just over 1500 PSI.

Across the pavement, Ceylica bears the brunt of the water, arms raised in defence.

“A WATER GUN, REALLY? JUST SO YE KNOW, MY CLOTHES AREN’T THE TYPE TO GET TRANSPARENT BECAUSE THEY’RE WET!”

Sorry, but you’re not my type.

My teeth clasp on my tongue, biting down the intense urge to reply. Steadying the hose with one hand, I just barely pull out a coin and cast a spell with it—aiming it dead centre as possible as I toss it through the air.

“Līna!”

Static lightning bursts from the coin, enveloping it in a violent, cloud-covered spherical storm. Though slow and utterly incapable of reaching an opponent with any modicum of speed, this low-tier electric spell still has one very simple use.

“LUCIUS!”

One common denominator all electricity has in common.

“YE”

That it conducts PERFECTLY WITH WATER!

“URGH!”

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My Lightning Orb finally strikes figurative gold. Acting as the electric equivalent of a barrel, the seawater from the hose passes through it, seeking opposite-charged ions, conducting, coming out the other end, and shocking Ceylica as its all too convenient target.

“Heh.”

I keep an open ear. The sound of crackling lightning, and the almost comedic cry of Ceylica’s unbridled groans reaching me.

The sign of a plan well-executed, I’d say.

Sadism isn’t a past-time of mine, but I’d be lying if I said this righteous comeuppance isn’t satisfying.

“Grg!”

Though I really should move on soon.

With my Lightning Orb inching closer and closer to Ceylica, its time as a moving barrel will soon come to an end, dissipating in one last show of sparks and lightning…

“HAHHHH.”

I reap the seeds of my sown effort with a due grin. The time that separates acquired victory is a thin line at best, closing in with every millisecond. Ceylica’s mouth is wide agape, as if in surprise, watching me in definite abject horror and realisation at her inevitable fate…

“PHOOOOOO!”

…

I frown and steadily look at my opponent.

What I see now goes beyond rhyme or reason. That, no, what, Ceylica is doing, is utterly insane—being no more intelligent than the last ditch effort of a pea-brained monkey. Worse is that, in spite of the complete lack of intelligence going into it, that it just might work.

“Gergh.”

Dry spit goes down my throat.

Like a character out of some old-time story, Ceylica is huffing out her lung and blowing, pushing my orb just diagonal of its intended trajectory with mere breath alone!

“HAAAAA,” She inhales again, “PHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOK YEEEEEEEEE!”

From around, raises the arms of several students in elation, no doubt stirred by this sudden change. Despite the clear error in doing so, I can’t help but take in their expressions, hoping to clear up some abject sense of social dread.

“OWN THAT FRAUD, CEYLICA!”

“LUCIUSOFRAUD, LUCIUSOFRAUD, LUCIUSOFRAUD!”

Typical hormonal teenagers…

The pungent displeasure of their reactions pushes me onward, reminding me to toss my hose to the ground. With my hands now free, I spin upon my heel, pressing all force into my right heel, and upon doing so─

“Not so fast.”

─Immediately get caught.

In a single instant, the tides have changed. Nestled within Ceylica’s grip is my right wrist, an incomprehensible amount of force keeping it in place.

“Don’t forget, yer the challenger ‘ere, not me.”

“So b─”

I raise my voice in challenge. But what comes out isn’t an attempt at dialogue.

“KA─”

Before I can so much as finish, I’m lifted in the air like a ragdoll, and without hesitation, promptly tossed to the wayside.

“UWAAAH!”

So, flying a grand total of 3.1 metres, I land, crashing and completely wrecking a wooden stall. It’s there, as I brush off smoke, wood and barbeque skewers, that an understanding comes over me.

A mathematical conclusion rooted in logic that only one of my calibre can come to.

That things, just maybe, might be a tad more difficult than expected.

“Maybe ye were the strongest back in yer bougie castle, but here, Lucius Mortius is just another elven prick.”

The half-demon struts forward, stepping over a wooden bench.

“And, if yer a prick, then well, I’m the bandage that’ll cover ye right up!”

The crowd cheers, a slew of students applauding what must’ve been the cheesiest catchphrase in existence. I stand defiant in the face of this, putting on my best ‘it’s not over’ expression as I lie still─hand reaching for the button in my right breast pocket.

Click.

My hands shake. The countdown begins now. So long as I can delay Ceylica, my loss is still far from determined.

“Just so you know, Ceylica, I didn’t live in a castle, more like a high-rise apartment, if you catch my meaning.”

“Ooh, like one of those tall towers, eh?”

“You got that right.”

“Well,” She exclaims, folding her arms. “Ye should give me a tour as thanks for not breaking all the bones in yer body.”

“Is that a threat?”

“Nah, it’s a promise.”

“On what condition?”

“Guess.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeep.”

“What am I supposed to do, go through a list of every hypothetical thing that can possibly amuse you, and hope it works out for me?”

“Well, I’m not that mean. Just to be nice, I’ll give ye a few ideas. Ye could grove and lick my boots, strip naked and dance like a monkey, transfer me a few million laines from your bank account, become my personal masseuse, let me fondle ye indiscriminately, or become my personal chef for the rest of yer life!”

“Degenerate.”

“Is that a no, Mr. Mortius?”

“Yes. Yes, it is.”

Aside from my disadvantage, nothing has changed.

Maybe I’m just arrogant.

Maybe I’m a little too prideful for my own good.

But, it’s because of that, that I have the ability to go on NO MATTER THE PRICE.

As I rationalize my hubris, an impending figure, rushing to cross over 7 metres worth of distance, running to no doubt pick me up and do as she pleases, approaches. But more than that, I see several figures in the air, looming behind her, clad in all-black, barrels trained on the half-demon with wingspans no longer than my arm…