Upon realizing the danger, Sieg could only react by adding more fuel towards the wind gust which he had already visualized. However, due to how startled the action done by Golden 3 was, his concentration was not at its peak and as such the control over his Inner-Mana was extremely sloppy. In the end, he managed to just barely conjure the wind gust as the wand erupted into a shower of fire.

BOOM!

The next moment all Sieg could feel was simmering heat assault him as the force of the explosion sent his body flying a few meters back, reaching mere steps away from the wall of stone which segmented the battlefields.

The front of his maroon robe now appeared utterly scorched, with embers of flames still dancing from its surface like glittering stars of red radiance. Upon his hand, and most of the left side of his face, severe burns were evident.

To make a bad situation worse, his body could not stop twitching as it once more suffered the side effects of a partial relapse. Although he had increased its fuel, forging a wind gust which absorbed most of the blasts deadly fury, he had performed his technique far too carelessly.

The consequence was that a bit of the Inner-Mana relapsed back into his body, bringing forth the intense pain which he currently suffered. Had Sieg not been a mage with plenty of experience in manipulating his Inner-Mana then he might have failed to properly conjure enough of the spell which would make the relapse of the remaining Inner-Mana become a death sentence.

His face wrinkled as he allowed himself to release a stifled groan. However, despite such a fatal attack, Sieg had yet to even consider the possibility of defeat. Too many points would be lost if Golden 3 won here, furthermore, with this being the second to last Battle-Grade Day then it meant that this was the last step in ensuring that his foundation remains strong. Within the slave role, one bad Battle-Grade Day was all that was needed for even an elite to fall from atop the peak which they stood upon.

It seemed that Golden 3 also did not believe such an attack would be enough to finish Sieg off as well since he was already within a sprint towards the direction of his foe. As he closed that narrow distance Golden 3 swiftly retrieved the longsword which rested upon the scabbard attached to his back then readied to swing down towards Sieg with perfect precision.

Realizing the danger before him, Sieg gritted his teeth and managed to lift himself into a kneel just as Golden 3 arrived before him. Through ragged breathing Sieg raised his head slightly and saw the rising longsword become engulfed by the sun’s glow, the lustrous steel of the blade’s body reflected it forth like a dazzling jewel. Just then, Sieg could not help but think that it resembled what he imagined a holy weapon to look like.

He also felt a tinge of regret for having neglected the equipping of a weapon.

Regardless of his busy thoughts, Sieg did not fail to set his Inner-Mana into a surging rage as he hastily raised an arm. Just as he did the blade descended down with tangible force.

Strike at me bastard! I’ll make sure you pay for every drop of my blood with a piece of scorched flesh!

Naturally Sieg’s counter was a simple one, he would unleash overwhelming force upon the enemy who dared to attack him so close. Sparks ignited into a ferocious stream of yellow flames which met the descending longsword, the arms which grasped at it, and upon Golden 3’s calm and serious face.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

As expected the strength and speed behind the strike immediately lessened however, where many would have abandoned the attack in the name of preventing severe burns, Golden 3 did not retreat. For a second as the sword traveled, Golden 3’s arms became engulfed by a tide of raging fire along with his face.

Sieg then felt a current of pain erupt from within his right hand first then shortly after upon his chest.

Just as the pain arrived, he heard the sound of steel falling upon the orange sand and he saw Golden 3 promptly retreating, his arms utterly scorched. They were left so badly burnt that steam rose from his charred skin and his steel vambraces seemed to have melted right onto his very flesh, their surface that of a low red hue.

Beyond his arms, Golden 3’s face now resembled the burnt side of Sieg’s own. However, even now his aloof expression had yet to change.

Meanwhile Sieg took advantage of Golden 3’s retreat to glance upon his injuries. Immediately Sieg noticed a shallow, yet ugly cut which was perfectly vertical. The edges of his large laceration also appeared to be burnt and injury caused him to experience an intense agony for every breath which he took.

However, what Sieg was more cornered over was the wound caused to his right hand. Golden 3’s sword slash had successfully claimed three and a half of his five fingers, leaving only his pinky untouched. The rest of his fingers were scattered on the ground, wet with blood and covered by grains of sand. What remained attached to his palm was now like a small waterfall of crimson.

Sieg pulled away his short examination and returned his focus on Golden 3’s back. With gritted teeth he punched the air, a spear of yellow flame then shot forth and soon arrived at its target.

Golden 3 felt the incinerating heat approaching before throwing himself into a side roll. The spear of fire merely managed to scorch his right side before impacting upon the stone wall shortly after. Sieg was not disappointed by such an outcome as he merely wished to provide himself some cover for his following actions.

The moment he sent the spear of fire, his eyes had narrowed towards the longsword sprawled atop the orange sand not far from where he kneeled. Its previous lustrous silver steel now shimmered with a sizzling red heat, as if it were freshly forged.

Sieg stared upon the weapon with grim determination before he pressed his bleeding stems into its hot surface. Immediately a burning pain assaulted his senses, something which had become a normality within this deadly duel. He spat out a groan yet his hand obediently remained still, doing so even as the smell of his own burning flesh reached his nostrils.

Sieg only removed his hand when he was certain that his severed finger stems had been cauterized.

Curses! I need to learn Healing Magic!

As Sieg had spent most of his time within the third stage perfecting his craft with The Magery Techniques, he had yet to fully learn The Ancient Human-Tongue which was essential in casting healing spells. While the slave role conducted specific trials dedicated for each day as well as a general theme for said day, those of the elite class were given more freedom to pursue the route which they were carving for themselves.

The art of magic was a vast field after all and within its reach many often chose to favor some of its aspects above others. Unfortunately for Sieg, he had often neglected healing magic for the simple fact that most battles with him as a participant ended swiftly. A product of Sieg’s strategy, that of overwhelming force.

Upon this day however, he stood before a fellow tiger, one with fangs no less deadly than his own. Truly it had been a bad draw regardless of how he saw it.

Sieg forcefully suppressed his bitter thoughts as he at last returned to his feet. His body ached, his breathing was ragged, and he bore both burns and cuts. His robe too had lost all its previous luster, remaining shared and battered.

Sieg was truly a sorry sight for those watching on.

Not a moment after he stood, Sieg was back into full motion, almost immediately made to dodge a few short knives which breezed just inches from him.

Then…

BOOM!

Yet another wand was set to erupt near him. It appeared that after their initial first clash, the two opponents would once more enter a familiar dance of flames.