Jack lept into another ditch. A loud screeching noise above him, whooshed over the trees incredibly fast. When the sound died down, Jack continued running. It was a game of hide-and-seek. Leand was scouting the forest, searching for him. If Leand managed to find him, he didn’t know what he would do. He had to find Leand first.

Jack was badly wounded, not enough to be defenseless, but he wouldn’t be able to outlast Leand.

The sound again. Jack ducked down as Leand passed over.

He opened his satchel.

Damn!

There was only one of the two books left. The Essentials book must have fallen out of his satchel while he was running.

He cursed again. The only other book he had was the Food and fun book. He opened it out of curiosity, maybe there was something of use inside.

He flipped pages frantically. How to clean food, All about bread, Broths and sauces, Mixing, Venting.

He stopped at the Venting section. The reason why was, all of the other spells he had seen up until then were multi-step and in some cases, multi-page, but this one wasn’t. It only had three steps.

Step one: Put your hands into the shape of a cylinder.

Step two: Make sure you can see the center of the smoke or air through the hole made by your hands.

Step three: say “Xazanu vapuramu gufuzu.”

Results: You will be able to divert pressure from steam if cooking in a pot, or smoke if your food is burnt by accident.

Jack gritted his teeth. Could he use a cooking spell as an attack? Spells were specially designed for their purpose, but there was no limit on what you could do with different spells, as far as he was concerned.

He put the book away quickly, as Leand made another pass. He remembered the instructions word-for-word, due to the pressure and fear he had grown so accustomed to.

“There you are.”

He looked up. Leand was hovering a few feet from the ground. His grin was as wide as could be. As soon as Jack turned in his direction, he hurled a blast of air. But Jack was partially prepared this time. He dug his feet into the ground and latched himself onto a nearby tree.

Leand grunted, a single drop of sweat rolled down his cheek. Something was wrong, he could feel it.

“What are you, really?” Leand asked, less of a playful provocation and more of an actual question now.

“Anivor. A proud Aurorian is what I am!”

Leand blinked. He didn’t know what to say.

So he said nothing.

Jack saw Leand tense, he positioned his feet again, but he let go of the tree, forming the cylinder shape with his hands.

“Xazanu vapuramu gufuzu” He said, but his voice could not be heard over the howling wind.

But then, the wind stopped howling.

Only a moment after he uttered the phrase, the wind dispersed, and Leand fell, hitting the solid rock beneath him.

“Shit!” He yelled as he plummeted.

When he hit the ground he slowly got back up, glaring at him.

“How… the hell…?”

Jack didn’t wait, he swung his shovel. It morphed into a mallet as it went. What followed next was the sound of a heavy piece of metal hitting against flesh and bone. Leand’s body flew over the rocks nearby, with a trail of blood arcing, disappearing into the bushes.

Jack grimaced. He’d be a fool to think Leand was dead. His vision blurred. There was likely medical supplies at whatever safe house she was staying at.

He descended from the stone, drawing his Barbarian sword. It sent a weak surge of power through him, a far cry from earlier when it saved his life, twice.

Leand was already up by the time Jack got to him. This is when Jack realized that he foolishly passed up the opportunity to high ground. But jumping off and driving his sword down, seemed like something he wasn’t capable of, especially since he was badly wounded.

Leand’s face twisted into far different from the smile on his face. “You… you used magic…”

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

Jack smiled. “Yes I did.”

Leand spat up blood, to much of Jack’s surprise and satisfaction. But his feelings were short-lived.

Leand swirled his hands. “You think it’s funny? Look at your face, you don’t even know if you can kill me, can you?” Leand’s grin returned.

Jack felt that horrible feeling, the feeling of nothing. His ears popped. The coolish breeze that he felt was gone, replaced by absolutely nothing. His lungs just shut down, for there was no air to breathe.

As his vision blurred he saw Leand’s mouth moving, probably saying something, cursing him, berating him, condemning him to death.

But he felt no fear, only anger. It was now that Jack realized he didn’t just blame the Aldarians for his family's death, but he blamed them for everything. Every time a hero disrespected him, made a fool out of him, refused to provide help to people in need. Leand was another pest that no one had yet gotten rid of.

And Jack knew that the blood on his hands was proof that could make people like Leand scared. The Akalumas he killed in the tavern, Marcus, The Summoned from the plains, Lyla. With each he killed, he slowly realized just how he could bring down the corrupt actions. He had gone from being ignorant, not having the courage to speak out, then letting his anger out in the form of avenging, not just his family, but the uncountable amount of lives that were entrusted into such an unstable, irresponsible, hedonistic group of people who kept pushing the line.

Leand was no different. He had seen how Aldarians could be killed easily, underestimating their opponents, and treating life like a game.

And as he suffocated, time slowed down again in his mind.

That was it.

Jack realized how you could kill a Summoned. There wasn’t any special way, at least not as far he was concerned. The way you killed a Summoned, was just like any other enemy, with the only difference being.

They would never expect you to be throwing the punch.

Jack let out one last scream, which would be heard by no one. Only the forest spirits and the deities heard his screams.

Then, he threw his barbarian sword. It flew towards Leand, unopposed, for there was no air resistance in a vacuum. Leand’s eyes widened. He had two options now.

Leand moved his body to dodge the sword, which hit the tree and shattered. The vacuum collapsed. And Jack took a gasp of air and charged at Leand. Now, Leand had no choice but to fight in close combat with Jack.

Leand swung his heavy sword, decorated with various gold plates, the sword that he used as a display of his wealth, was now weighing down his moves. Jack dodged and weaved, a product of Wyatt’s training.

And just like that, Jack landed his first real slash across Leand’s chest, drawing his blood. Unfortunately, the blade wasn’t able to go deep enough.

As the fight raged on, Leand became slower, whereas Jack’s frustration and coordination only increased. He landed a second slash, a third, a fourth.

Still, Leand was a force to be reckoned with, even as it became obvious he was losing his strength and had been wounded several times he still held up against the best of Jack’s abilities. Jack grimaced. Every move he made was perfect. Wyatt would have been proud. But he wasn’t Wyatt, and even if he was, Wyatt had died the exact same way, trapped in a battle, not of wit or skill, but of mere power and stamina. And Jack knew that it didn’t matter how many slashes or punches he landed, he was fighting a battle that he would no doubt lose.

Wyatt had always told Jack to have a relaxed position, so that his enemy wouldn’t know what his next move was. But Wyatt had perished because he failed to take the opportunity to switch up his fighting style or tactics, not because of his relaxed position.

Well, this was the perfect opportunity.

Jack launched himself forward, slicing through Leands cloak. When he turned, he saw that Jack had cut a piece of his cloak off. Jack waved it, taunting him.

Taunt.

Leand, enraged, hurled himself at the speed of an arrow towards Jack. His trajectory unclear, he grazed the ground next to Jack and punched him. Jack blocked with his left arm, which he felt fracture underneath his skin. He bit his teeth, swallowed his pain, and returned a punch hard across Leand’s face, knocking one of his teeth out.

Bait.

For a moment he just stood there, surprised that Jack had punched him. But he took the opportunity to grab Jack by the throat, he punched him back. Jack grinned, he hovered his hand over his face and gasped: “Moni zazu, tronu zazu zili ki tufi. Rupriparu faluzi.”

Leand, who had assumed Jack was trying to protect his face, didn’t see his mouth move under his hand. Leand hurled his fist forward, expecting it to meet with soft flesh and blood.

The shield materialized at the last second, causing Leand smash his hand into what was essentially as immovable a brick wall.

“FUCK!” He yelled, clutching his hand.

Execute.

He drew his knife, which due to his low mana, failed to ignite. Luckily, it was still a knife. He jabbed it towards Leand. But Leand intercepted it and twisted Jack’s arm. Jack responded by putting him in a chokehold of his own, pressing him against a tree. But in doing so, he forgot about Leand's sword, which he pointed towards Jack.

He glared into Leands face, his prideful face gone. Jack had taken all of it and shoved it down his throat. Leand glared right back, twisting Jack’s hand further, pushing it past his body, so that he wouldn’t be able to strike.

But Jack had one last trick up his sleeve.

He summoned his very last reserves of mana, and ignited the knife.

The flame lit up the dark shade of the forest, and Leand’s face went from anger to fear.

His dark robe lit up in an instant. The fire crawled up and around him. He screamed.

“Wind mages are resistant to fire, what is there to be afraid of?” Jack asked, tauntingly.

He saw Leand frantically try to pat down the fire on his robes, but alas it found its way to one of his metal canisters. He froze just for a moment. Perhaps it failed to register in his mind that Jack had sealed his fate. He took one last look at Jack, a mixture of anger, hate, pain, and most importantly, fear.

Leand took off, creating a bang that neary deafened Jack. He flew at such an incredible speed through the sky, around in circles. Jack saw brilliant flames coat his entire body as he flew, the flames changed color, growing brighter and brighter. He twirled and spun, as if it would throw the flames off like a bull rider, but they only grew larger and brighter.

Then finally, with a loud POP, he exploded into a fireball, then fell down to the tree below, a trail of smoke trailing right behind him.