Kaladin Shadowheart’s POV

I bid a goodnight to Ren and made my way back upstairs, leaving Mila with her. Mila had grown close to Ren and even Lauren and wasn’t opposed to spending time with them. If she wanted to sleep somewhere, Mila would just get up in the middle of the night and walk there anyway. Nothing short of tying her down would stop her.

Knowing her, Mila will just walk back to my room anyway.

But for Ren, that was the second time in the last few days that she had sought my advice, or perhaps it was better to say she was seeking a consultation. Either way, Ren seemed nervous about her matches with Malachi.

Being a Vampire of a seemingly strong bloodline, Malachi’s abilities were still relatively unknown. From what I’ve gathered, in the matches he has won, he used his superb strength and regeneration abilities and was a proficient swordsman. His weapon of choice was just a plain sword supplied by the school, and he also didn’t appear to use any dungeon items.

But if Malachi was even a fifth as strong as Sylvia, then he is most definitely withholding something without a doubt. What that “something” is remains to be seen.

Regardless, in my opinion, Ren was worrying too much about something she couldn’t control. Although Ren didn’t have an overwhelming amount of inborn talent, she worked harder than nearly everyone around her. The number of people who could be said to work nearly as hard as Ren at Forward University or even just in Class Onward could be counted on one hand.

She—huh?

It was rather late at night, but as I was just mindlessly walking back to my room to go to sleep, I saw Dallin’s door open slightly with light spilling through. It was way past his bedtime, so I peeked into his room and found him slumped over his desk. A flash of worry hit me, but the moment I walked in, I could hear him snoring peacefully.

I grinned to myself as I walked over to him, making sure I was as quiet as possible. Dallin was sprawled out over his desk, the glass pen I bought for him just the other day tightly clutched in his hand. A few sheets of paper were in front of him, as well as his favorite novel.

I read the first few lines of the paper he was working on and couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. At first glance, I thought he was transcribing the story onto the paper for some reason, maybe for practice, but I soon realized I was wrong. Dallin was writing his very own story, albeit a slight variation of his favorite, but still…

Interesting. There are quite a few sheets of paper filled out. He seemed to enjoy it so much that he fell asleep in the middle of writing.

A surge of pride came forth as I realized what Dallin was doing. It was truly special to see him so engrossed in a hobby at such a young age. In stark contrast, his older brother didn’t really have a creative hobby.

“Good for you,” I mumbled quietly to myself as I took the pen from his hands and placed it in its holder.

I gently scooped Dallin up and laid him in his bed, making sure to tuck him in tightly. It was another chilly night in Flumare, thanks to the intense rain storm that swept in, and I didn’t want him catching a cold. I snuffed the candle out with my fingers and closed the door to his room.

Goodnight, Dallin.

—

The next day, I sat with my friends and family in the stands. Mila sat comfortably in my lap, playing around with Rosemary, who sat next to us. The stadium had undergone a noticeable change for the first time in the tournament.

And that change wasn’t the fact that the storm was still raining down on the city, but the people in the stadium changed enough to be visually seen with the naked eye. There were large patches of Elves seated together. That’s not to say there weren’t any before, but the amount for today’s match was just that much higher.

The reason for that was rather apparent, considering who was about to fight…

“Today, we welcome not one but two princesses from the silver empire in the south! Princess Tsarra and Seraphina Tel’an’duth!”

The Eleven crowd roared at the announcement of the two princesses who walked out simultaneously. Tsarra was in her usual mage robes with her staff, while Seraphina had mostly plate armor on, her twin silver sabers strapped to her belt.

“Who do you think is going to win this one?” Sylvia asked me.

“I don’t know. They are two complete opposites. So it’s going to come down to a few things. I also don’t know what Seraphina can do other than use those swords. But I do know who I’m rooting for,” I said.

Sylvia snickered and let an evil grin flash across her face. “I really hope that Tsarra drowns her. Wait, no better yet I hope she punches that whore straight in the mouth.”

Padraic let out a chuckle from behind me. “Aye, now that would be something.”

I looked back and saw Varnir staring off into oblivion with a thousand-yard stare. He didn’t even seem to register Tsarra’s entrance. From what I knew, the two of them hadn’t spoken since they arrived in Flumare. Tsarra was apparently attempting to fulfill her wish. What that wish was, only she knew.

Well, if she is trying to prove something to Tel’an’duth or her family, beating the first princess and her niece right here would be a massive boon for her.

I turned back to the arena. The rain poured down on the two princesses standing in the platform's center. Tsarra wore a hood, so I couldn’t see her face, but Seraphina wore a smug look of superiority as she conversed with the referee in the middle. I not only hoped for Tsarra’s victory but for her to teach that monster a lesson she would never forget.

Tsarra extended a hand, but Seraphina just looked down at it with a look of disgust and turned on her heels. Tsarra slowly brought her hand back and walked toward her side of the platform. With the crowd's roar and the incessant flow of rain, the referee looked at both contestants and with his hand held high, he dropped it and started the match.

Just like her match before, Tsarra immediately launched in, summoning a tidal wave that was all-consuming. But unlike her previous match, with so much natural rainwater to call on, Tsarra’s water magic grew at a breakneck pace. Within seconds, the crystal clear water ballooned and burst like a dam as it surged forward with lethal intentions.

The surge of water arrived at the center in the blink of an eye and crashed down onto the stone platform. The sheer sound of the wave was enough to drown out the crowd for a moment, and it was hard to imagine that anyone caught in such a powerful spell would not only be whisked away but be crushed underneath the overwhelming might of the wave.

Yet, Seraphina seemed unbothered despite being moments away from what appeared to be her death. She walked forward, not even unsheathing her swords, a smug look of superiority on her face. The crowd vibrated with a mixture of anticipation and concern. Just a quick gaze saw people covering their eyes while another group was about to jump out of their seats.

The wave crashed down onto the princess, and Tssarra continued to summon more and more waves to follow up. But there was a shift in the tidal wave. Instead of consuming and dragging Seraphina away, it…turned around?

Now, the entire platform was covered by water as a large purple hexagonal barrier covered Seraphina, protecting her and sending Tsarra’s magic back at her. The two opposing waves crashed against each other, and even though Tsarra was summoning more and more, every spell returned by Seraphina was reflected with double the power.

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Sylvia clicked her tongue and crossed her arms. “Damn. What are the odds she can use anti-magic,” she grumbled.

Anti-magic, it’s been a while since I’ve seen it.

When I escaped from slavery and was still with Dem and his party, we were attacked by a rogue band of Sandervile soldiers. Chief amongst them was someone named “The Anti-mage,” that old soldier was the worst match-up for me at the time as I could only really use magic. I had to resort to trickery just to defeat him.

“Hey, that’s anti-magic, right? How does it work exactly?” Padraic whispered from behind me.

“It’s a school of magic that is relatively rare, and unlike nearly every other school of magic, it lacks any form of offensive and is purely defensive in nature. Its defensive capabilities are only viable against mages, hence the anti-magic name,” I explained.

Padraic stroked his beard and sat back in his seat. “That doesn’t sound very good for your friend here.”

No, not it does not. But that’s only on paper.

Seraphina had casually strutted past the center point and flicked her bright pink hair with a single hand. She unsheathed her swords, and the ostentatious silver twin sabers glistened with the rainwater. It was quite the spectacle and felt more like a show than an actual fight.

Tsarra’s water magic was pushed back as Seraphina was nearly upon her. Tsarra halted her magic, and Seraphina showed some amount of her physical abilities. She enhanced her body and shot forward like an arrow. With her swords low, she brought them up in an x pattern, and the crowd let out preemptive groans of worry as it looked like Tsarra was about to be diced.

Even my family, Sylvia, and everyone else around me let out shocked gasps. Only two people didn’t react to what was about to happen: Varnir and myself.

I covered Mila’s eyes quickly as Seraphina had a wicked grin on her face. Her twin sabers slashed into Tsarra, and blood spurted out from all the wounds, even mixing with the rainwater. But that grin was immediately wiped off Seraphina’s face.

Because her sword didn’t actually cut anything physical, it was all an illusion, or well, Tsarra was an illusion the entire time. Her magic was plenty real.

“Daddy, stop! I can’t see,” Mila whined with a giggle as she tried to pry my hands away.

I playfully took my hands away and quickly put them back, more or less distracting her. Even though Tsarra wasn’t actually hurt, I didn’t even want that fake scene to be witnessed by Mila.

Perhaps I’m a bit too overprotective, considering what Mila has been through…but it just feels like the right thing to do. Maybe bringing a child to a fighting tournament isn’t the best of ideas either…

Tsarra’s body double disappeared with a warble of distorted space, the blood splutter gone with it. It was like she was never even there to begin with. And what followed next was not only new for everyone but for me as well.

A bolt of yellow lightning crackled to life from seemingly thin air and arced straight toward Seraphina. The princess rolled off to the side with tremendous speed, a purple barrier protecting her body as it reflected the spell. The bolt of lighting magic hit the summoned hexagonal pattern and, with even more power and speed…hit the barrier surrounding the platform, dissipating harmlessly.

“You coward! Stop hiding!” Seraphina shouted onto the empty platform.

I grinned to myself as Tsarra responded to Seraphina’s frustrations. At multiple places on the arena platform, the air shimmered and warped as dozens of Tsarras came into existence. Each and every one of them appeared to be indistinguishable from the real Tsarra.

Which was, of course, a testament to Tsarra’s mind-boggling abilities as an illusion mage. Even though the illusions weren’t real, rain still dripped down the cloak and her staff. All of them moved like they were real, breathing people.

Tsarra even played into her abilities from the start. Her simple robe that covered her entire body, the hood that hid her face, and even her dark wood staff with the dungeon core shard. It was all so she could afford to show less detail and take advantage of her illusion magic.

The rain was also a double-edged sword. On the one hand, it forced her illusions to have another added depth to them, and it also threatened to reveal her actual position unless she used more illusion magic to mask it all. But on the other hand, the sound of the rain pummeling the stone platform and the added cheers of the stadium served to mask her trail.

Honestly, Tsarra is frightening. If it was a more advantageous situation like being dark outside and with a deep fog…just how many illusions could Tsarra create? Thirty? Forty? More? She created twenty illusions during the Chaos Dragon fight, but many of them lacked the detail these have.

Seraphina gritted her teeth and lashed out at the closest Tsarra, but her swords sliced into nothing. Another bolt of lightning cracked, and Seraphina summoned an anti-magic shield behind her, reflecting the spell. The lightning bolt was reflected back once more, and it blew straight through the Tsarra that summoned it. But once more, the air shimmered, and the illusion disappeared.

“This is just monstrous. Is she forming a spell from her illusions? Is something like that even possible?” Sylvia muttered, her crimson eyes wide.

“It might appear that way, but that’s actually not the case,” I told her. “She is using combination magic to house another spell core.”

Sylvia licked her lips and let out a low hum. “It looks like our shy little princess has been putting in some work when nobody was looking.”

I nodded as it was true. Tsarra came out and worked her body nearly every morning with us. She went from someone who died after a warm-up jog to being able to run for an hour without complaint. And although I didn’t know what she was doing with the rest of her day, I knew well enough that she wasn’t sitting idly by.

Seraphina rushed around the arena, slicing illusions and deflecting bolts of lightning and spheres of water with curses. To Seraphina’s credit, she didn’t look physically fatigued, but she was clearly irate. I suppose she wasn’t on track to graduate from Sentinel Academy for nothing. But with no clear plan in sight, Seraphina looked helpless against Tsarra’s tricks and magic.

Yet so did Tsarra. If Tsarra can’t land a meaningful blow against Seraphina soon, then this match will fizzle out with a whimper as Tsarra runs out of mana.

As if on queue, all the illusions shimmered out of existence. Seraphina’s head twisted, and her lips spread into a deep grin. On the edge of the arena, another shimmer in the air appeared. This time, a single Tsarra came into view. She was sprinting away, knocking up splashes of water with her boots, trying to get away from Seraphina as if her mana had finally run out.

Seraphina, being the close-range fighter she was, put mana into her legs and rushed Tsarra. I covered Mila’s eyes again, and in a matter of seconds, Seraphina caught up to Tsarra and thrust her swords straight into her opponent’s back. Blood gushed from the wound and even hit the referee, who was standing right there next to them.

“It’s so realistic. I don’t know whether to be impressed or afraid,” Sylvia said with a hint of awe.

When Seraphina cut Tsarra’s illusions, they always gave away to nothing, which telegraphed to Seraphina that it wasn’t real. However, Tsarra had figured out a plan as the illusion shimmered once more, but this time, there was a Tsarra-shaped figure of water there.

Seraphina finished through with her sword thrust as the glop of water splashed on the ground. The Eleven princesses instantly reacted as she spun around and slashed the open air. It looked like she flailed and struck at nothing, yet red blood splattered across the platform.

For the first time, Seraphina had struck the real Tsarra. But it was all over. Tsarra had planned everything ahead from the start and just improvised to get Seraphina to take the bait. The air shimmered, and the real Tsarra came into existence as she had been hiding in the barrier next to the referee since the start. One of her arms was severely cut, dangling at her side, but she was still in the middle of throwing a punch.

I wonder if people knew if they would consider Tsarra a cheater. She was technically hiding behind someone else’s magic. But I think it’s just a clever usage of the terrain.

Her hips twisted, and Tsasrra threw every bit of her body into it. She even dropped the illusion magic she had maintained since the beginning in order to enhance herself with mana. Seraphina was on her back foot, weapons out of place and nowhere near her to be defended. The punch landed with a crack, and the stadium roared in response.

“She actually did it!” Sylvia blurted out.

In reality, the punch wasn’t powerful. Seraphina wasn’t knocked unconscious, nor was she even dazed. In a regular fight, Tsarra would have been cut down in the next move. But it was just enough to let her get close and ram herself into Seraphina.

The two princesses fell off the platform together. Seraphina tried to flip things around, but Tsarra used her one good hand and wrapped herself around her niece’s body. When they hit the ground, it was Seraphina who hit it first.

All eyes in the stadium turned to the referee. The poor guy looked stunned as he just looked at the two princesses and seemed to forget where he was. He quickly shook his head and raised his right hand.

“Princess Tsarra Tel’an’duth wins! What a fight to behold! All those ups and downs will be remembered for years to come!”

The stadium let out a deafening cheer as Mila wiggled free from my grasp, complaining. Tsarra slowly stood up, nursing her arm, and looked straight up at us. I couldn’t see her face underneath her hood, but I liked to imagine that she was smiling.

When I see her, I’ll have to thank her for that. That punch felt a little too personal to be the only way.