Chapter 338: The Champion of Spell & Steel

  The cold drizzling rain had turned into a full downpour. And yet the crowds did not complain. They cheered at the sight of the arena that unfolded in front of them.

  Ophelia stared in disbelief from her high seat. The two young mages had dropped unceremoniously the moment she had activated the Nether Flask just as their flame spells had exploded against one another. It had worked, her plan had worked. The Ebon Aspirant and the anomaly hybrid had both mysteriously fallen, their souls trapped in the Soul Chasm forever.

  So why…

  Why are they standing!?

  The crowds cheered as both the Aspirant Stryg and the hybrid called Sylvie stood to their feet, ready to keep on fighting.

  Panic rose in the pit of Ophelia’s stomach. For the first time in many years, she had no idea what to do.

~~~

  Belle glanced at the aurum aegis in the palm of her hand. Not a single iota of her divine power was left in the amulet. She wouldn’t be able to count on the aegis’ protection, not until she refilled the aegis with her power.

  But as Belle breathed in and out, she could feel the divine energy in her heart dwindling, the dream portal had spent most of her power. Even worse, the Soul Chasm had drained her large reserves of chromatic mana entirely.

  Still… she thought grimly. It’ll have to be enough…

  Her opponent wasn’t Calex Thorn, but he was still a mage with a large arsenal of spells at his disposal and spell-casting skills that Belle was uncertain she could match, not in her current exhausted state.

  As if that’d make me give up, she chuckled to herself.

  Adversity was the mark of any war and the blood of war thrived through her veins.

  Belle grinned viciously, “Let’s see how far we can go!”

  Her last remaining divine power ignited within her body and golden flames burned over her skin. Her nails formed into claws and her lower canines grew to match her sharp fangs. She crouched low and growled.

~~~

  Stryg stared at the golden flames numbly. Whatever courage he had felt moments ago quickly evaporated like the rain around Belle. He knew what her fire was capable of. He had tried to stop them with his own greatest flame spell and he had failed.

  He thought he had enough orange mana left for another powerful flame spell, but surprisingly, he didn’t. He knew flame magic drained a caster’s orange mana quickly, but this wasn’t usual for him. Even more strangely, his other colors were barely at half their usual reserves.

  Flame spells were out of the question. Maybe a torrent spell then? Or another stone spell? No, they had all proven ineffective.

  Perhaps something new then? Something he had yet to dare to try outside of the confines of his training grounds. Cornelius had warned him about it. The dwarf had called him reckless and stubborn.

  Stryg smiled half-heartedly, Maybe he was right…

  “What are you waiting for!? I thought you wanted to fight me!” Belle called out from a distance.

  Stryg turned to her and took a deep quiet breath. Orange, brown, and yellow mana flowed out from his heart and filled his bones and flesh. He suddenly grimaced and bent forward, holding his sides. It felt as if his chest was being crushed by a boulder. His muscles burned as if they were being dipped in acid, his bones creaked, and his skin felt as if it was being pulled apart.

  “What now? Is this some kind of trick?” Belle raised an eyebrow suspiciously.

  Stryg looked up at her, pain in his eyes, and hissed, “Are you afraid?”

  Belle slowly smiled, “Here I come.”

  Her golden flames flared brightly and she charged at him.

  Stryg forced himself to stand up straight through the pain.

  He had only ever been able to keep the three spells stable for a few seconds. It would have to be enough…

  His veins darkened to a grey, scales of yellow light wrapped around his skin, and a sheen like polished steel undulated over his skin.

  Belle’s fiery fist came down on him. With unexpected speed, he reached out and caught her wrist. His fingers stung from the heat as if he was touching a steaming pot, but his skin did not burn.

  She stopped her oncoming assault and stared in shock at the offending hand. The blue fingers weren’t even long enough to completely wrap around her wrist and yet there they were, trembling yet still somehow holding her back.

  “You can still cast Vigor and Durability spells? How much mana do you have!? Wait… no… that’s agility magic…” Belle’s eyes widened, “Tri-enhancements…?”

  Stryg growled.

  His grey claws dug into her skin, a speckle of blood forming at her wrist. Belle burst into laughter and abruptly kicked him in the chest, sending him careening back.

  “Finally! I can finally see you! The real Stryg!” Belle shouted excitedly. She narrowed her eyes, “This is the you worth defeating.”

  Stryg regained his balance and glanced at his chest. There was a charred hole on his tunic where she had kicked him. His yellow scales had cracked from the overwhelming blow, but they had not broken. He turned to Belle and hissed angrily.

  She grinned, “Are you afraid?”

  Stryg ran at her, agility magic quickening his every step. He leaped into the air and swiped his leg in a wide kick, vigor magic empowering his muscles. Belle blocked with her arm, her speed matching his own. Stryg landed on the sand and pressed his attack.

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  The crowds screamed in excitement as they watched the two duelists fight in close combat. The spectators had seen plenty of duels in the arena before. They had witnessed weapon masters of all kinds duel on these same sands throughout the years. The masters of their craft had always fought with the certain assuredness and smooth strikes that came with decades of practice. Yet the crowds had never seen anything like this.

  These were not the eloquent movements of two warriors testing their mettle. As the crowd watched Stryg and Belle roll across the sand, clawing at each other, and trying to bite one another, it seemed as if they were witnessing two vicious animals struggling for survival. The crowd's voices of excitement slowly died and were replaced with mixed expressions of fear and awe.

  The goblin’s small yet terrifyingly sharp fangs found her calf and bit down hard. The vampiress howled in pain and her golden flames burned brighter. He grimaced and pulled his jaw away, his mouth burning from the heat. Belle jumped to her feet and kicked him in the face. His head snapped back from the blow and he toppled over. Belle went to kick him, but she stumbled and began to sway from side-to-side. Her golden flames abruptly died out as the last of her divine power was depleted.

  Stryg spotted the opening in her defenses and tackled her to the ground. He straddled on top of her and began raining down punches. Belle raised her arms to protect her face, but his fists slammed into her ribs instead, cracking bones with every empowered strike.

  Belle grunted in pain, tears forming at the edge of her eyes, but she kept her arms up trying to protect herself the best she could. Stryg suddenly stiffened and began to cough up blood. The three enhancement spells became unstable and fell apart.

  Belle noticed the spells fading from his skin and she immediately threw him to the side and jumped on top of him. She roared and wrapped her arms around his throat. Stryg tried to push her off him, but his muscles felt weak and her body too heavy. He tried to scratch at her forearms and with every attempt, his strength grew more feeble.

  “Yield,” she said through clenched teeth.

  “…Ne…ver…” he mouthed weakly.

  His body spasmed and ached from the backlash of the enhancement spells. His lungs burned from the lack of air. His vision began to blur, and the world’s cries and cheers fell into an eerie quiet. Memories of his life began to flood his mind, the happy moments, the painful ones, and the ones where he felt most helpless…

  He had felt like this before… It had been his first duel… Kegrog had been stronger than him and he had been helpless to stop him…

  Stryg opened his eyes wide and stared resolutely into Belle’s. He slowly wrapped his hands around her forearms with the last of his strength and let grey mana flow into his fingers.

  Belle frowned in confusion as she felt a creeping cold surge into her arms. She grinned angrily, “You’re draining my lifeforce…?”

  Stryg bared his fangs and glared at her.

  She felt angry but at the same time she felt… thrilled? The goblin beneath her wasn’t giving up. Despite being on the ground, despite being unable to move, he was actually still a threat. It would take some time, but he would eventually drain all her lifeforce energy and she would collapse unable to move an inch. The correct course of action would be to get off the goblin and kick him away.

  And yet, she didn’t move. This was a gamble of strength, who would fall first?

  A warm feeling filled Belle’s chest and she found herself genuinely smiling. She had never felt like this. This was it. The feeling she had searched for in every battle she had fought. The sheer exhilaration.

  A wild glint appeared in her scarlet eyes. She leaned forward and whispered with a hungry smile, “…I don’t know why… but I really want to sink my teeth into your neck… and tear out your throat.”

  “Back… at you,” Stryg growled through choked breaths.

  “So we’re in agreement,” Belle leaned back and smiled coldly, “But I have other plans.”

  Her grip tightened around his throat.

  Stryg’s fingers weakened and his arms fell to his sides. “...Same…” he whispered.

  With a deft motion, his left hand pulled a long dagger out of his pocket and drove the blade through Belle’s wrist. She screamed in pain and jumped back. Stryg scrambled to his feet and coughed while sucking in deep precious breaths of air.

  Belle examined her left wrist, it was bleeding profusely. She chuckled, “I can’t believe it… You actually took my advice and brought a dagger.”

  Stryg began to walk backwards while keeping his eyes on her. “...It was good advice,” he admitted.

  “I know.” She studied the dagger in his hand and cocked her head to the side, “It’s a little long though, don’t you think?”

  “I think it’s the perfect size.”

  Stryg’s foot brushed Nameless’ hilt and he picked up the blade from the ground.

  Belle shook her head and drew her own sword, “This again? I already told you, I’ve studied the Gale Style and your broken blade is ill-suited for it.”

  “We’ll see.” He flipped the long dagger into a reverse grip and held his broken blade in the other hand.

  Belle narrowed her eyes. She didn’t know this stance, but it seemed reminiscent of the style the vampire wisp had used in the Soul Chasm. She glanced at her own sword and noticed her grip was shaking. She was losing too much blood.

  A voice in her head whispered for her to be careful. Her mana reserves were already completely drained. And now most of her lifeforce energy had been drained. Now was the time to be cautious. But as she looked at the goblin’s unwavering eyes, she felt as if none of that mattered. All she wanted to do… all that mattered right now… was the thrill of the fight.

  Belle and Stryg dashed at each other, blades clashing against one another. Steel blurred in a storm of sparks as their bodies moved around their opponent’s swords. Belle’s movements were sluggish, but her superior skill was evident in her every parry and strike.

  Stryg was faster, yet he couldn't find an opening in her defenses. Belle tried to end his assault with one heavy strike, but he moved in a strange pattern she hadn’t seen before, unable to give her a moment to lash back. Stryg’s attacks held traces of the Gale Style, but it was different, like a silent shift in the air.

  As the fight continued, Belle grew more accustomed to his attacks and began to adapt, slowly but surely gaining the upper hand as Stryg’s body began to slow down.

  The crowds watched from the edge of their seats with tense silence.

  Belle’s blade slashed across Stryg’s skin for the fifth time, leaving another shallow but bleeding gash. He roared in frustration and renewed his attacks. Belle danced away, parrying each blow. But Stryg did not back down, he continued to attack, foregoing his defenses.

  Belle shifted to the offense, finally seeing an opening for a final strike.

  The raindrops around them began to vibrate and slow in their descent until they were floating aimlessly around them in a swirling pattern. A faint inner light leaked out from Stryg’s lilac eyes. A cold sensation filled his burning muscles with relief.

  Belle lashed her blade out in a wide arc. He dashed underneath her longsword with newfound strength and sliced across her thighs and shoulders with two quick strokes of his blades. Belle’s eyes widened in stunned surprise.

  “H-how…?” she mumbled and collapsed on the ground.

  The swirling rain froze for a moment, then suddenly continued to fall as usual.

  Stryg took deep exhausted breaths and pointed Nameless at Belle, “Yield.”

  She chuckled weakly, “...You were holding out on me…”

  The blades slipped out of his tired hands and his knees buckled underneath him. “Yield,” he whispered wearily.

  Belle closed her eyes and felt the rain fall across her skin as the water mixed with her blood, “You can’t even stand or hold a blade…”

  “...Neither can you.”

  “...So why should I be the one to yield…?”

  “Because… I don’t want you to die…”

  Belle opened her eyes and looked at him in surprise. His eyes were filled with empathy.

  “You're bleeding… too much… you need a healer…” Stryg mumbled with the last of his strength.

  “Why do you care?” Belle sighed.

  “I don’t want to lose… another friend…”

  “Dammit,” she cursed under her breath. She took a deep breath and yelled as loud as she could muster, “I yield!”

  The crowd’s silence broke and they began to mutter to one another.

  “...SYLVIE OF HOLLOW SHADE IS UNABLE TO CONTINUE!” Mark announced.

  Jane jumped to her feet in the Herald’s Tower and yelled excitedly into the enchanted horn, “STRYG OF HOLLOW SHADE IS THE VICTOR! CONGRATULATIONS TO UNDERGROWTH’S CHAMPION OF SPELL & STEEL!”

  The crowd broke into cheers.