Father Daniel seemed serious this time and stopped him again, landing another punch to his side and head.

Tibaut gained movement once more but this was too much. He assumed his magic worked by touch but this was thrown out the window by him constantly stopping Tibaut without touch.

He did his best to block and dodge in the brief gaps Daniel allowed but he was slowly whittled down by the man nearly 3/4 his height. Each moment he regained his movement he believed this would be the last time it happened, only to be met by disappointment when the priest continued his onslaught. Father Daniel's fists left his body with more bruises than an abused housewife.

At this point, he was barely conscious and it was a miracle he was even standing based on the damage he received. He tried to block then attempted to blow up the floor between them but Father Daniel stopped his hand. But not the fireball? It continued towards the floor and although he slowed it down he still got caught in a blast.

The bottom of his robes and parts of his legs had been burnt.

“You don't give up, do you?” He said while catching his breath. He seemed a bit winded.

Tibaut wasn't sure where to go from here. He knew his body well enough to know he wasn't going to die but he wasn't sure he had the energy to keep going. It was obvious to anyone with eyes he was outmatched.

But an idea soon came to his head. (“If I can last long enough, I can tire him out with that flame veil.”) He reasoned.

(“Oh really?”) The drake said, unimpressed.

It was a gamble. If he couldn't withstand the beating it'd obviously be his loss. But he had been beaten on by stronger people. The current scenario was also caused by him being weaker than he would have been normally (he thought anyway). But if there was one thing that didn't change it was how well he could take a beating. As he thought about it, he became more convinced of his victory. Ten minutes? Twenty minutes? An hour? It didn't matter as long as the smooth-faced gremlin before him would fall first, he could endure it.

But, much to his surprise, someone else took advantage of the pair’s insistence on staring at each other.

The priest looked down at his feet and saw that everything below his knee was covered in ice. He casually looked around to see Agnes holding her hands out. He puckered his lips before wearing an awkward smile.

“Ahaha, Agnes, blessed child of our lord, what is the meaning of this?” He asked, laughing uncomfortably.

She got up and shimmied against the wall to avoid his reach, (In her mind anyway. The priest didn't try to reach out or grab her in any way, and watched on in confusion.) to make her way towards Tibaut. Tibaut had also forgotten about her and looked on in awe as she grabbed his hand.

Her face was covered in unease and her body was shaking like she had seen a ghost. He decided to go along with her and went down into the stairway. The short priest watched helplessly as they went lower.

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He looked down and tried moving his feet but they wouldn't budge.

“Her magic is pretty strong…”

He looked to the stairway before letting his arms fall limply and slumping over slightly. “Did he manage to seduce her? No, she never seemed the type for romance. She always did keep to herself.” He began scratching his head and sighed. “Whatever the case, he convinced her to side with him. How troubling, I hope he doesn't have others in his midst he's converted.”

He was left alone in the darkness with his thoughts as to who this red-headed man was.

----------------------------------------

Tibaut was just going with the flow of the moment but he started regretting not finishing off the priest when he had the chance.

(“Dammit I blew it! I had the perfect chance to end that bastard.”) He chastised himself.

When they reached the fifth floor, they took whatever split paths they could find and hid in a nearby room before they ended up at a dead-end.

Agnes was breathing heavily but as long as they didn't hear footsteps he supposed there was no harm in it.

(“I gotta admit, she saved my ass there. Without Elizabeth, I'm not sure I could have continued through the dungeon if I defeated that guy.”)

(“Since you've run away like a child and that man seems to have no intention of coming back here-”)

(“Seriously!?”)

(“Sigh, Yes seriously, it seems he's broken out of the ice and is heading further up. My best guess is that he's going to wait until you exit. Now would you let me finish? That was a god-awful display. Which is why it was so fun to watch.”)

Tibaut rolled his eyes but the voice continued.

(“Which is why I shall tell you of their magic. After all, you still have use to me yet.”)

(“So you really could have helped me out but sat there and watched as-”)

(“I could not tell you, how does that option sound?”)

Tibaut kept his thoughts quiet.

(“How obedient. But hear the simple explanation. He can stop things with his magic-”)

(“That doesn't sound right then how does-”)

Quiet.

That shut Tibaut up once more.

(“But his magic is affected by the concentration of mana something possesses. So at most, he can only slow things like your fireballs down.”)

(“So that's why. But wait a minute, why didn't he slow down Agnes’s magic and dodge it?”)

(“I have a question boy. Would you be able to shoot a fireball at something you couldn't anticipate?”)

He thought about it for a few moments and made an “Ahh” sound which frightened Agnes, still unsure if the priest was near.