There was a burn on Tibaut's hand and the drake sighed.

“(It seems that was too much. I'll have to stick to his fire in the meantime.) I hope you aren't thinking that a cheap piece of scrap metal would be enough to stop me.” They said. They rubbed their palm while looking at Elizabeth.

Elizabeth broke out into a cold sweat and slowly sheathed what was left of her sword.

(“I-impossible. I know this blade is a lower-end alloy of Disiponium but, but, he used his magic to destroy it so effortlessly...”)

While Disiponium could turn magic back to mana, most weapons were not made of the pure stuff. That'd be far too expensive, plus more importantly, impractical. Against the average person born with magic, the lower-end alloys did their job fine. Unless you were going to fight a royal guard, legendary adventurers, a mythical beast, or even a trickier form of magic it made no sense to have one that was relatively pure. But in the chance you were fighting one of these, these weapons would have to be used sparsely. The level of magic this group produced would be strong enough to easily overpower the rate lower-end alloys could turn magic into mana, and even be affected by the magic.

Tibaut began forming flames with his hands and began walking over.

“I do hope you'll entertain me, Saint of Gabriel.”

She was several feet away yet she could still feel the flames he produced.

This magic was on a different level than Tibaut's. They were unnaturally bright and were very light blue. Even by simply looking at the flames in his hands, she found it hard to believe they originated from the same magic as Tibaut. Then and there, she decided this was no time to hold back.

As he got closer she felt the air get more and more drier.

She dug a foot of hers into the ground and kicked it, to throw some dirt in his face.

He created a screen of fire in front of him and not a single speck of dirt touched his face. The instant the dirt touched his flames, they vaporised.

(“Defeat him? How the hell am I gonna even touch him?”) She thought to herself after seeing this.

He had a smile on his face seeing the confusion on hers.

Elizabeth looked to her surroundings but there was nothing in this forest that would help her. She gritted her teeth and silently cursed in her mind as he drew nearer.

(“I'm sorry, Lady Gabriel but I'm not sure if I can defeat him without dying.”)

As Tibaut came closer he noticed the night breeze had begun to pick up. Or was it the night breeze?

The girl before him was holding out a hand of hers and looked to be aiming at him.

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“Oh, I suppose a good clash is fun every now and again.”

He held out a hand of his own and aimed as well.

A vortex of wind was building in Elizabeth's hand and Tibaut looked on unimpressed.

(“I'm sorry Tibaut but whatever it is that is inhabiting you is too dangerous to be left alive. I'll pray for your survival but that's all I can spare you at the moment.”)

Her arm started making cracking noises and began sputtering blood yet she continued to hold it. A giant vortex of wind had started to form in front of her and it even took some of her blood, giving a pink hue.

(“She's really serious about this isn't she?”) The red drake thought.

They began to form a fireball using the flames he produced earlier but came to a disappointment halfway through.

(“Wow, this body is weaker than I thought. He can't even form an attack like this without the risk of passing out?”)

The drake noticed its surroundings becoming darker and quickly realised its host's body wasn't appreciating how it was being used. He dispersed the fireball and continued to watch her.

They still showed no fear and simply shrugged their shoulders. (“I suppose dodging is the better option but how fun it would have been to have this Saint crawling back to her Goddess in tears.”)

Elizabeth paid no focus to Tibaut and focused solely on forming her attack.

(“This isn't enough. I need more to destroy that monster.”)

More splits formed in her arm and more cracking was heard coming from it but she paid it no mind. The vortex she formed was now taller than her and had twice her width.

As the vortex grew in size, an image of Tibaut flashed in her head and she decided this size was good enough.

Her arm was now a bloody mess. It looked like it was smashed by a road roller but she didn't care. She was now at the final stretch and whether through pride or negligence, the foe in front of her had allowed her to get this far. And she wasn't going to let this go to waste.

“Take this, you bastard!” she shouted.

She threw it forward. It didn't go more than a metre without weakening and promptly dissipating.

“What the?” Elizabeth mouthed. She stumbled to the floor clutching the arm she had used.

(“I'll admit, I didn't expect that.”) The drake thought as he watched.

The arm she was using to summon began gushing with blood and the wounds on her arm began extending past it. They spread to her shoulder, side and part of her chest like glass breaking, bloodying her attire within an instant.

She started coughing blood while looking at Tibaut.

(“Damnit, Damnit, Damnit, DAMNIT!!!”) Were the only thoughts in her mind as she looked at him.

He slowly walked over with his hands in his pockets, casual as ever.

“Well wasn't this disappointing? We both couldn't do what we wanted because of our limitations.”

He moved to grab her neck but she backed away as soon as his hand moved.

“Even on your knees, you choose to resist? Heh, what am I saying? This isn't anything new for humanity.”

“Who are you?” She asked, slowly getting back to her feet.