Chapter 236: Preliminaries Part 5
The crowd of students stared in anticipation for the final match of the preliminaries. The golden beauty, daughter of House Goldelm, against the tough redhead, the gifted of the Commoner District.
“Who do you think is gonna win?” Sylvie asked excitedly.
“Hard to say,” Poppy muttered. “Freya Goldelm is a bi-manifold orange and white mage, while Kithina is only a yellow mage. Still, chromatic colors aren’t everything. I personally haven’t seen Kithina go all out, but rumor has it she can multicast; it’s a huge advantage in any fight, however Freya has the power of the Goldelms running through her veins.” Poppy scratched her head, “Hmm… it really is hard to tell.”
“So no answer,” Sylvie sighed with an exaggerated pout.
Poppy smiled wryly, “If I had to guess, Freya will have to be on the defensive until she can find an opening. If she can bide her time, she might find a chink in Kithina’s defense.”
“Uh-uh,” Sylvie shook her head.
“What do you mean?” Poppy asked.
Sylvie stared at the blonde dwarf on stage, “Well, I haven’t known Freya for long, but I do know she isn’t one to back down from a fight.”
“BEGIN!” Vayu shouted.
Freya didn’t waste a moment. She raised her hammer and channeled orange mana into her veins. The veins in her arms and legs grew dark and grey, the agility spell taking hold.
Freya dashed forward with a light step, her small figure a blur. Kithina threw her hand forward, a blast of wind exploded from her palm. Freya stabbed the butt of her hammer into the ground, its steel sharp point sank into the stone floor with ease. The blonde dwarf crouched and held the hammer tight. The wind raised her legs off the ground, but the hammer stood resolute.
Before the gust had completely died down, Freya pulled out the hammer and sprinted. She swung the hammer with all the force she could muster straight at Kithina’s hip. Kithina gritted her teeth and dropped low; yellow scales covered her left arm and blocked the hammer. The scales cracked underneath the blow but held.
Freya yelled a warcry and raised her hammer for another blow. Kithina tackled her, Freya stumbled but held her ground. Kithina refused to let go and wrapped her arms around the Goldelm’s waist.
“Let go of me!” Freya screamed and slammed her elbow down on Kithina’s shoulder. Freya grimaced, a sharp pain ran through her elbow; yellow scales shined brightly underneath Kithina’s shirt.
Kithina slackened her grip and smiled, “Boom.” A gust of wind burst from her lips and shoved Freya away.
The blonde dwarf’s body skidded on the ground across half the stage. She coughed painfully and staggered to her feet with a scowl.
Kithina wiggled her hands, “I took a page out of Stryg’s book. Casting with my mouth may be less accurate and powerful, but at point-blank range it’s hard to miss.”
“That easy, huh?” Freya narrowed her eyes.
“Well, it helps when your weight is reduced thanks to that precious little agility spell of yours,” she smiled.
Freya closed her eyes for a brief moment, her grey veins faded away. She opened her eyes and sneered, “How about now?” She raised her arms up high and cupped her hands together, a massive orb of fire spun to life above her.
Kithina could feel the heat from across the stage. Her eyes widened in shock, she had never seen a 3rd year cast such a powerful flame spell.
“Ready to give up?” Freya smiled wide.
“Never.” Kitty took a nervous deep breath and increased the durability scales over her skin until her whole body glowed with yellow light.
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Freya screamed and threw the giant fireball. Kithina slammed her hands together in front of her, a gale of wind whirled around her and formed a barrier. The fireball collided into the wind spell in a roar. The flames surged forward and began to consume the barrier.
Kithina howled in pain, her yellow scales flaring bright, their defense cracking under the intense heat. She closed her eyes tight and covered her face, waiting desperately for the fireball to dissipate. After what felt like an eternity, the flames suddenly died, and her vision was ash and smoke. She coughed heavily from the fumes and stumbled back a step.
Freya’s hammer appeared from the smoke and smashed into her chest. Kithina crashed into the ground and gasped for breath. Her weakened durability scales shattered over her chest and abdomen.
Freya appeared from the smoke, her veins darkened once more by agility magic. Before Kithina could raise her hand, the hammer swung back down and smashed her left wrist. An agonizing scream burst from Kithina’s throat as her back arched in shock.
“Why don’t you cast with your mouth now!” Freya swung her hammer.
Kithina’s eyes darted up in a panic, she forced her mind to focus through the pain and try to spell-cast. A half-formed set of yellow scales crawled over her chest and absorbed the hammer blow. She shivered from the impact, her injured body unable to handle the enhancement magic any longer. All the durability scales burst into yellow light and faded away.
Freya raised her hammer once more.
Kithina bit her lip angrily, her tooth drawing blood. Everything seemed to slow to a crawl as the hammer swung down. Kithina’s mind flitted through her memories of school, of her friends, of Callum, of her family. But all she could focus on were the golden beads in Freya’s blonde hair, billowing in the cold wind.
How many times had Freya pointed out the simple wooden beads in her red hair, of her poverty, of her humble origins? Kithina had lost count. She was tired of being reminded of being a commoner, she was tired of people like Freya making it seem as if she was lesser because she was born in a small house and not a gilded mansion.
She was tired of aristocrats taking one look at her clothes and dismissing her existence. In fact, she was just tired of all the damn aristocrats.
Kithina screamed in rage and thrust her right hand out. A powerful tunnel of wind erupted and launched Freya high into the air. Freya gasped and squirmed.
Kithina lifted her head and glared at Freya dangling in the air. “What comes up…” she muttered. “Must come down!” Kithina slammed her right hand into the ground.
The wind howled from up high and smashed into Freya, her small body shot down like an arrow and crashed into the stage with a sickening crunch. Freya lay face-down, both her right arm and leg were bent at unnatural angles. Her body didn’t move, save for the twitch in her left arm.
Kithina cradled her broken wrist and stood up slowly. The crowd watched with stunned faces and slack jaws, but Kithina did not notice, nor did she care. She dragged her feet to Freya and flipped the aristocrat’s body over with a kick.
Freya’s nose was broken, blood covered her face, and her eyes already seemed to be swelling. Kithina coughed weakly, but her green irises were bright with determination.
She placed her foot over Freya’s bosom and sneered, “I am not weak. Aristocrats, Great Houses, Ruling Families… none of you are better than us!”
Freya’s golden eyes shot open. She shoved her hand into Kithina’s face and fired off a bright spell. The white light burned straight into Kithina’s eyes, she screamed and staggered back, blinded.
Freya moaned, gritted her teeth, and used the hammer to push herself up. Her vision was blurred with blood, she couldn’t feel her right arm or leg, and the rest of her body throbbed painfully. Even her good leg wobbled and threatened to buckle underneath her.
Kithina yelled angrily, a shrill of panic in her voice. She swung her right hand all around her in a fit of panic, weak blasts of wind sweeping across the arena. Frail yellow scales covered her skin in random splotches. She blinked over and over, her sight still gone.
Freya wheezed faintly and swallowed her blood and spit. White mana flowed into her palm and transformed into a healing spell that seeped into her good left leg. The pain slowly receded away, just enough to manage a hobble.
She limped over to a thrashing, blind Kithina. Freya ducked beneath stray blasts of wind, stumbled, and kept limping until she stood in front of her.
“...You’re not weak,” Freya whispered.
Kithina stiffened at the sound. She flung her arm and pointed straight at the blonde dwarf. Freya dropped low, barely escaping a lash of wind. With a last burst of strength, she gripped her hammer and struck Kithina’s temple, shattering the yellow scales.
Kithina stumbled, her body wobbled, her knees buckled, and she toppled over face-forward. What little remained of her scales faded away.
Freya felt herself falling, she leaned on her hammer and managed a feeble stance.
The crowd clapped and cheered, but there were tears among many of them.
Vayu nodded solemnly and raised his hand, “Kithina is unable to continue, I declare Freya Goldelm the victor.”
Freya closed her eyes and sighed in relief. Her head sank forward and she collapsed unceremoniously.