Audrey, along with her friend—Misty, 143rd in the Global Ranking—had a VIP seat for the match. A couple of seats away, she saw top names like Monika Bauer, Selena Bauer, and a few top 10 rankers. The arena was so wide it might as well have been called a stadium. Thousands of Magicians flew from all over the globe to watch the fight. And their excitement could be heard and felt throughout the place. A pair of Royal Magicians were stationed at the edge of the arena.
One from Russia, and one from the USA.
A crimson, shimmering barrier was set up around the stands. Due to the fiasco of last time, a more powerful one was erected. Audrey was inwardly relieved. Mikhail didn't hold back when it came to destructive spells, and Jered seemed to share his same disposition about that, "Who do you think will win, Audrey?" Misty, who was on her left, asked curiously.
Audrey furrowed her brows, her arms crossed, "Mikhail is a monster... but so is Jered. And he didn't seem to have tried hard against me either, which means he still has a few tricks up his sleeves. Honestly, the match might very well end in a draw."
"Hmm..." Misty nodded in thought, "... I've never fought against either of them, but Mikhail is a beast. He's brutal."
"True, but..." Jacques chipped in, throwing his two cents in, "Jered is different. He's powerful, collected, and analytical. He definitely has an edge over Mikhail, whose reason has been locked tightly behind his need to destroy and kill. We don't know Jered's spell repertoire either. What we do know, however, is that he has at least a couple of Royal-Tier spells. Isn't that enough to overwhelm any opponent? That is not to say that Mikhail is weak, but Jered is simply... on a whole other league."
A round of contemplative grunts sounded out.
"You're not wrong," Misty admitted, "But for all we know, we might have not seen Mikhail's best either."
Audrey bit her bottom lip, "I doubt even him can stop that spell," she muttered, shivering at the thought of Jered's 'Lanza del Diablo'.
Her father grunted in agreement, "Whatever the result, this match is bound to be something worth watching."
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On another side, Selena Bauer was busy typing away at her phone, chewing gum, and blowing bubbles.
"Honey, the match is about to start. Can't you put that hellish contraption away? You don't want to miss this, trust me," her mother, Monika, advised gently.
Selena rolled her eyes in a teenage fashion, though she was already past her 50s, "Fiiine..." she begrudgingly tucked her phone back into her pocket and crossed her arms, "I don't know why you wanted to come anyway, we could have watched from home."
"You don't understand," Monika laughed in a motherly way, hand over her mouth, "This is not the kind of match you can enjoy behind a screen, Seli. You need to be there to feel it. Mikhail is a monster in human skin, but that young man over there... he is something else. I've never seen such a talent like him before. We're in for a surprise, I'm sure!"
"Oh, whatever..."
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Del was agitated as he trailed behind Jered, "This won't be easy," he muttered, apprehensive.
"Nothing worth winning ever is."
"Are you confident?"
Jered had a small smile as he replied, "Obviously."
"..." Del was a bit intimidated by the large arena. The last time he had been at such an important match, it had been between Mikhail and Monika, and even then he was tucked away in some tiny corner of the stands, barely able to spectate. But now? He was at the center of it all. Everywhere he looked, hundreds of Magicians looked back, "I'm not feeling well..." he admitted, his face green.
"Nervous?"
"Very."
"You don't have to fight though..."
Del's throat tightened, the content of his stomach churning, "Can I... can I wait somewhere else?"
"No."
"..."
Jered stared at his opponent on the far end of the arena. Mikhail was reputed as a beast, and he looked like one too. He was easily over 7 ft tall, and his restraining jacket couldn't hide the bulging, inflated muscles. His flowing, black hair fell over his back. There was no sliver of sanity in those amber eyes. Two Royal Magicians garbed in white clothing flanked Mikhail's side, each of them holding a chain that was clasped either around Mikail's wrists or ankles.
The emcee amplified his voice, "And here we are..." he paused for a moment, overlooking the audience, "I believe there isn't much more to say. You know why you are here... hah, look at my hand. I'm trembling. This match has been long-awaited, and even demanded by all of you—me included!"
The Royal Magicians slowly released Mikhail, and floated away, at a safe distance where they could make sure no one else would get caught in the crossfire.
Del gulped, "Jered... I have to go to the toilet..."
"No."
"..."
The emcee cleared his throat, "Are you guys reeeeeady?"
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"Jered..." Del insisted in a whiny tone, "Please?"
"Fine... get the fuck out of here."
Del didn't need to be told twice. Before Jered could even blink, the scaredy man vanished in a cartoonish cloud of dust.
"Mikhail Ivanov, versus, Jered voooooooooon Jacobs! Begin!"
The ground cracked as Mikhail pounced at Jered. The man was like a train of mana, potent and relentless.
Jered disappeared in a plume of smoke, and reappeared next to Mikhail, mid air, his body twirling around to deliver an aerial roundhouse kick. Mikhail brought his elbows up to parry, and he was successful, albeit at the cost of skidding back a few steps. However, the moment the attack failed, Jered retreated with another burst of 'Shadowport', and followed up with a combo of spells. 'Turbine Slash' and 'Vizier's Light'. A wispy blue whip flickered overhead, swinging down at the enraged Mikhail.
Fire swelled up, and a deep gash was left on the ground. Unfortunately, Mikhail had erected a powerful 'Mana Barrier' right before the fire turbine flogged him. A wave of heat and embers went off, swirling up into a mini tornado. A gigantic fist plowed through the screen of fire and the kinetic pressure spearheaded towards Jered. He immediately cast 'Physical Enhancement' on himself and sidestepped. 'Why are we fighting melee again?'
He couldn't help but laugh.
Mikhail spread his arms wide apart, lightning zapping between his fingers. Then he whipped them forward, and a beam of thunder rocketed out. The shaft of electricity approached at the speed of sound. Jered's 'Firewall' promptly curled out of the ground, protecting him from the blast. Normally, the lightning itself would have overpowered fire, but Jered's fire had been boosted by copious amounts of mana. The crimson of the flames was as deep as blood.
A blinding shockwave went off at the epicenter of the collision, rocking the barrier. The Royal Magicians outside were forced to tighten their focus.
Just as the dust settled, a cloud of smoke rippled ominously behind the confused Mikhail.
'Lanza del Diablo'
The spear uncoiled from the wisps of darkness around Jered, and swallowed light itself as it ripped through the air.
Mikhail roared; the first verbal of his anger that day. It was too fast to dodge, and Jered doubted he could block or counter it.
A faint crimson glow burst out of Mikhail's body. While it was surprising, it lacked in power compared to Jered's raging 'Lanza del Diablo'.
An explosion rumbled out. It was so powerful that the Royal Magicians holding up the barrier had to request help from some of the competent Magicians spectating.
After the situation was stabilized, everyone concentrated on the still ongoing match.
It was not over yet.
The mantle of darkness covering Mikhail receded as the mana fueling it tapered off. His gigantic form was unveiled. Rivulets of blood cascaded down from the various wounds riddling his body. His clothes were in tatters, but the fire in his eyes burned brighter than any flame. The crimson glow outlining his body faded, which meant it had fulfilled its purpose. A pair of horns grew out in jagged zig-zags at the sides of his head. The white of his irises was replaced by a deep black. His veins bulged out, and his mana presence pressed harder.
"You're tough for a Magician," Jered commented off-handedly, "I might have to use heavy artillery against you."
However, before he could cast his next spell, Mikhail used some sort of high-speed technique and disappeared from his sight. Jered easily tracked him, though. The problem was that even his 'Physical Enhancement' couldn't keep up with his reflexes. Mikhail reappeared overhead, hands clasped together and coming at Jered like a sledgehammer. However, all it hit was the wispy remnants of 'Shadowport'. The ground crumbled, the tiles flying up.
"Hmm..." Jered analyzed his opponent calmly. He couldn't simply kill Mikhail—that would spark quite a bit of indignant fury from the Russian organization behind him. And it was especially so since it was not really a deathmatch. While he was lost in his thoughts, Mikhail buzzed away, and teleported behind him, a jab whizzing straight towards his head. The sheer power behind him was enough to pulverize a boulder; there was no way his more fragile skull could survive that.
'So, he's allowed to kill me, but I can't kill him? Fuck that.'
An extremely potent 'Mana Barrier' reared up around Jered. The moment contact was made, it easily shattered. Nevertheless, it served its purpose in buying enough time for him to cast 'Pharaoh's Flame'. Therefore, when Mikhail stepped forward to deliver a second, more powerful punch, he was met with the scorching pillars of fire that spewed out of the ground and slithered around him. The inferno melted the ground underneath them, making his footing unstable.
The barrier protecting the audience was about to give in.
A dozen of thunder arrows materialized behind Mikhail, crackling with power. Likewise, a numerous cluster of white spears spawned above Jered. The mana was tightly compressed inside them. Not to mention volatile. The silver, thunder arrows streaked through the air with a rumble and flew at him from every angle. Jered waved his hand dramatically, and his 'Pharaoh's Flame' swung majestically in front of him, swallowing the quiver of arrows. His 'Rain of Death' followed next. However, the Royal Magicians outside recognized the danger that it posed. And, while working in tandem to avoid a catastrophe, they managed to cancel it out.
"What the..." he stared at them with a tilted eyebrow. That was not fair, but he could understand where they were coming from. 'Pharaoh's Flame' was already destructive enough, and that was not counting his opponent's power into the equation.
Not a second later, Mikhail's afterimage appeared in Jered's peripheral, fist loaded back. What a foolish choice. He redirected his flames to the opening on his back with great momentum, but Mikhail showed that despite turning into a killing machine with no reasoning, his instincts more than made up for it. He twisted his body, stepped on a mana platform while mid-air, and changed directions in a split second. Now, that surprised Jered.
How the fuck could a Magician have such monstrous physical power and such fine control over it.
Mikail reminded him of Zonor. Both on the same tier, but with a battle prowess that went far beyond it. No wonder he was 1st in the Global Ranking.
Jered canceled 'Pharaoh's Flame', augmented his eyes with 'Physical Enhancement', and watched as Mikhail's fist zoomed in. His neck craned to the side to avoid the incoming blow. The knuckles brushed past his cheeks and drew out a few drops of blood, though the scratch regenerated in nigh an instant. Jered saw Mikhail's still outstretched arm, grabbed him, and fired a 'Kinetic Blast' right on his wrist. An animalistic scream sounded out next to his ears.
That didn't stop Mikhail from lashing out with his other hand. But by then, Jered had already 'Shadowport'ed away. After securing a bit of distance, he cast 'Hell Spawn'. A pillar of fire shot up, slowly slimming down and elongating into the familiar form of the grim reaper. The scythe came crashing down upon the disoriented Mikhail. However, he easily avoided it, jumped up, and loaded a thunder punch into the reaper's skull. A hole opened up, and he sped through it, sky dropping towards Jered.
The reaper wasn't dead, though. In fact, it was not even bothered. Mikhail snarled as the scythe swung at him from behind. He twisted his body mid-fall, somehow managing to avoid it. Unfortunately for him, a powerful wave of fire spears and petals was flying at him at a speed that he was helpless against. In a last-ditch effort to come out of it unscathed, he cast a bright 'Mana Barrier'. The first spear cracked it; the second bore a hole through it; the third shattered it.
And the rest followed.
A deafening, rumbling explosion billowed into ripples of fire and smoke. The arena was covered in a black, acrid screen.
When the smoke was cleared out, Mikhail was on the ground, one arm and leg missing.
Blood pooled up around him as he struggled to breathe.
A moment of silence ensued.
"Aaaaand... we have a winner..."