Things were different. The fight had been…

Well, it had been mad before. First jousting, then fighting and on the last stretch of it, pure, unrelenting violence. But now?

Regitris moved with purpose. His face was a block of ice, grim and unchanging. He didn’t even frown. But he fought like Michael remembered some of the martial artists in his world did. Hell, even Bruce Lee made faces. The elf simply looked, pointed and rarely spoke his Spells out loud.

And yet for each gesture, magic bloomed and the arena splintered.

It honestly looked like all the artifacts he had worn before were more for Kelunad’s benefit, than for his own. Regitris had fought with borrowed strength before, perhaps as Kelunad had said, afraid to fight with his own inner reserves and afraid of himself. He didn’t look afraid now, though.

“|Mana Enriched Zone|, |Diffused Spell|, |Pillar of Flames|.”

One of the few times he had used Skills in combination with Spells until that point, but he did use them now, far more liberally than before. Michael saw a circular area of the arena grounds light up, before magical flames burst up and formed a tower of fire. The elf had weakened his own Spell, but it had still been powerful enough to incinerate everything around and above it.

And the orc? Kelunad was laughing.

Regitris had caught him, for even the Martial leader couldn’t maneuver in the air as fast as he did on the ground, but Kelunad had dashed away from inside the pillar, flames still clinging to him. This had been going on for minutes now and he already looked worse for wear. He was cut, marked, burned and bruised.

But he was laughing.

“Yes! This is what I wanted. Finally, I-“

A bolt of red lighting shot towards him. The orc dodged, but the lighting separated into five others and moved to intercept him. The orc landed on the ground spasming, getting up a second later to dodge a volley of |Acid Orbs|.

“You fight as you should have fought from the beginning, old one. This is what-“

Two massive hands grabbed him by his ankles, the rest of the sand and earth golem rising up from beneath him, as Kelunad struck at it, aiming to get loose. He did, for his sword swung like no other, but the act cost him precious seconds. The ray of grey light hit him in the chest.

He staggered and roared, slashing with Spell and sword alike. The cut moved beyond the physical, taking to the air and hurtling towards the elf. For a second Michael thought Regitris was baiting the hit, but then he saw the cut touch him, cutting him in half. He gasped, but the illusion simply shattered.

A sound like a bomb going off boomed and Kelunad was flung head over feet across the arena, bouncing painfully off the ground before coming to a stop. He shook himself, got up and ducked, as a blade of anti-light cut across the space where his neck had been a second before.

Regitris rose from his shadow as the orc once more moved a healthy distance away from him.

“Do you take no pleasure from this, teacher?” Kelunad shouted. “At the prime of your-“

Glowing runes appeared on his body for only a second, before the orc froze solid.

“|Tracking Spells|, |Piercing Light Arrows Barrage|”

Michael actually thought that was the end of it, but when the dust settled, he saw that the orc was still standing. More, his body was slightly glowing as well, the product of a defensive Spell.

“You deny yourself the pleasure of the fight. Be it as you may.”

Regitris aimed again, but Kelunad spoke.

“|A Warrior’s Moment|.”

Regitris move slowed… and came to a stop. He frowned then, the first sign of emotion since the elf had started to fight earnestly.

“So pragmatical. So unlike the Regitris of old. But then, that is the secret of your Class, isn’t it?” Kelunad smiled.

Regitris jerked, but was kept immobile.

“No, old one. As long as I only speak, you cannot move to fight me. The secret… |Exemplar|. You must lead by example. Be the first of Gnosis. Act like it, at least. Always strive for perfection, like your race and your faction. For this, the academy lends you its strength. Its knowledge and power. And mana. But always you must restrain yourself, for your Class is both blessing and sacrifice.”

Once again Regitris jerked, seeming like it took all his strength to do even that. He frowned. But he never opened his mouth.

“I anger you for telling this. In front of the entire academy. Why, teacher? You are not the first of your Class and the libraries of Gnosis attest to this. Or… perhaps your anger is directed at what you perceive to be my goal?” he asked, smiling. “You can be angry. You can be mad. But always you must act in line with what is best for Gnosis. Or what you perceive to be best, this I do not know. But I sense that… if I were to make you mad for personal reasons… well. What would happen then?”

Regitris finally opened his mouth and when he spoke, it was with simple sadness.

“I counted you as my friend, Kelunad. Even when you were my pupil. That you seek to rob me of my Class, that you arranged this entire debacle for this moment… I do not know your intentions. I can only guess them. But for the bonds that were once strewn between us, I ask you plainly. Why?”

The orc stopped smiling and when he spoke next, his voice was as graven as that of his old mentor.

“One reason, split in two. A difference in vision, I suppose you may call it. That is always the undoing of great mages. But this I feel in my heart, teacher: while you rule, the academy grows weak.”

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Regitris flinched as if struck.

“You are the |Exemplar of Gnosis| and as you are shaped by your Class, such too do you shape Gnosis. And while you have ruled, mages have grown week. Pitiful. Ambitionless. I saw this in the books of history and I saw this myself. We have sequestered ourselves from the world. We have sequestered ourself from the rest of the academy and from our pride. Because you seek to protect everyone and in doing so, you sacrifice the great for the safety of the many.”

“And you would end me?”

“I would end your role in this, old one. One reason… split in two. The first is that while you hold the Class of |Exemplar| now, I feel that it may be better served elsewhere.” He said and Michael could swear that his eyes flashed at him for a second. “The second is… well. You can stop me as you are. With the full might of Gnosis behind you. I am not proud and I can concede this. Even now, you limit yourself, for fear of killing me.”

He laughed and it was a mirthless laugh.

“Always too kind, in your own way, teacher. But I must not be stopped. You know the great secret. The current one at least. I cannot. Be. Stopped! Not if I am to have my will.”

Regitris eyes widened for just a second, but his expression was gone before more than a few noticed.

“I could debate the first reason. The weight of it grows weary on me too. But the second? I cannot allow it. And you know it, else you would not have caused… this. Yet, this is irrelevant. I will fight you. But I am too old to be enraged, my student. Even the horrors of the Great War have lost their pull on me.”

“Yes… what can reach the heart of the great Regitris? Even you would say ‘nothing’, but I know better. Because I was there.”

“…what?”

“I am the reason she left you, old one. I am the one who took away your heart.”

“No! Regitrs, he’s-“ Ravena shouted.

But Kelunad silenced her with a Spell and the Arena allowed not intrusions.

“Do you truly believe she would have left you as she did, if not for me?” the orc bellowed, laughing. “That her love was a lie? Even what you did wouldn’t have swayed her, not for long. But I was there. The voice in her ear, the corruption in the air. I was there when you failed to be and I spoke, Regitris. For though the world sees me as nothing more than a barbarian, my words have ever cut deeper than my blade. I robbed you of her and the cut has too long been scarred over. You will never have her back!”

“No…” Regitris spoke, but he sounded uncertain. “No, you lie!”

“I lie?” he laughed, like a demon. “I loved her. More than I have ever loved anything and anyone. But she would not have me and I accepted that. But for you to have her? You, who had everything already? That I could not accept. Cast your |Truth| Spells, old one. My Skill will not consider it an attack.”

He hesitated, but Regitris raised his hand.

“|Overpower Spell|, |Honesty Comes Forth|. S- speak.”

“I loved her. I still love her.” Kelunad spoke. “That is why I did what I did and do what I do. Am I speaking the truth, teacher?”

At first, Regitris said nothing. Simply trembled, a lost look on his face. Then, his trembling intensified. He was shaking, his entire body jittering. A look of pure rage was starting to contort his features.

“You will not break my Skill, Regitris, not with just your magic. Not without the entire might of Gnosis behind you. So come, old one, come for your lost love. For you have slayed entire peoples, but I have slayed you.”

Something broke. Michael felt the moment of it, like hearing a cord snap.

“KELUNAD!!!”

The world caught on fire. The entire arena was flooded with magic, as if some mythical floodgate had been opened and the entirety of Gnosis fell down into it. Michael felt Gnosis itself straining, unwilling to have its will caught, but being unable to resist.

The magic turned to fire, lightning, light. The power of it was so great that even the barriers were shaking, the heat and intensity of the magic scorching even the mages in the stands. A lot of them were crying out, while mages of all factions were struggling to throw up shielding Spells, but the one responsible of it wasn’t noticing. He didn’t see and he didn’t hear. He only had eyes for one being.

The orc was laughing as his skin burned even under layers of wards. He has his sword out and his eyes were locked on Regitris.

And the old elf? He had finally snapped. The look on his face and the power around him would give Michael nightmares for weeks. He was beyond reason, face snarling. But he still remembered three words.

“|Magic is Might|!”

“|I Cut|!”

The entire force of magic in the arena collapsed around Kelunad, seeking to erase his very existence. But, at the same time, something cut at it, something that was birthed into existence with the sole purpose to cut at anything. To slice and sever reality itself.

The barriers broke.

A lot of the shielding Spells went out.

Michael threw himself in front of the others, raising his vambrace, as Bob threw himself on front of him.

He must have blacked out, because he didn’t remember being on the floor. Michael painfully got up and checked on the others. They were burned and Bob had part of his armor melted into his skin. Erea had a strand of hair still on fire, while Melissa was attempting to put it out. None of them got up without marks, but the rest of the mages looked even worse.

Michael and his friends had been placed just above the high mages and their magic protected them. The rest of the stands? Some people were bleeding and a lot of students were calling for Healers and Healing Potions. A lot of the mystery faction’s mages were now visible, knocked out. The entire room was in disarray. And yet, everyone fell mostly silent again, as the orc started to limp forward.

His sword had been blasted apart. Some chunks of it had impaled themselves in Kelunad’s body, but the orc didn’t seem to notice them. Or no longer had the strength to pull them out. Only the handle and the base of it remained, a dagger’s worth.

His body looked… well, it looked better than dead, but only just. The hand not holding the broken blade had been charred black. Parts of his body too. The other parts were not much better, bleeding and oozing black smoke. Yet he limped his way to Regitris.

And the elf… the old elf was kneeling. Looking every bit as old as he was. His body had been untouched, but now wounds started to appear. Cuts and burns and worse. And with every one, he sunk lower, until he was on his hands and knees, shivering.

“…my Class.” He croaked, as Kelunad finally approached.

“Is gone.”

“W-will you kill me, now?”

“That was never my intent, teacher. But your Class is gone and that solves… half of my problem. Perhaps. Time will tell.”

“What of Michael?”

“The boy is one of mine, in spirit and magic. But I will let him choose his own fate, as I let all others. Yet, there is one more problem that needs solving. I have won and that means I am entitled to my demand.”

“…and that is?” Regitris asked, finally managing to sit up and look Kelunad in the eyes.

“I get first try.” The orc seriously said. “And none will interfere.”

“That… Kelunad, I cannot let you.”

“Then you will die.” He said. “I can still swing this, one last time.”

“NO!” a voice screamed.

Michael looked up and saw Ravena bleeding and burned, but struggling to stand, helped by her mages.

“Kel, please! Don’t!”

“For her, old one. Accept. I must not be stopped.”

Regitris wavered, but finally nodded shakingly.

“By my faction and whatever authority I still hold… you cand try first, Mage Regitris. None will stop you. May magic have mercy on us all.”

Kelunad nodded and dropped his sword. He looked at Ravena and at Regitris.

“I have sacrificed everything for this, but… I saw no other way. And yet… know that I will not speak my next words out of spite, old one. But out of sympathy, though it will not feel so right now.”

He knelt next to Regitris and whispered in his year. And then, after wounds and pain and magic unleashed, Regitris did what he hadn’t done this entire time.

He cried.

He shouted and cried in great sobs, burying his head in the ground. His hands were tearing at his hair, frail as they were now.

Kelunad stood up and walked away, stopping only for a single step.

“I am sorry.”