The wind rushed around him, pressing down against him and slowing his ascent. That wouldn't do, and Cal looked down, seeing he was still far too close to the warehouse for comfort. With little other option, he tapped his foot lightly. A small manifestation appeared beneath it and gave him additional upward momentum.

It wouldn't be enough, and Cal took more care than usual in crafting the next manifestation, making sure it did its job with as little fanfare as possible.

Reducing his signature to zero was impossible with manifestations. They would always show something upon activation. The key was to make sure they lasted only an instant and used the bare minimum amount of magic to accomplish their task.

In this case, it meant getting him as high as possible. He was hoping the ongoing fight and growing distance would prevent Lily or Alice from noticing his activity.

Manifestations appeared in quick succession, each lasting only a blink and propelling him faster and faster. With all the extra attention he was giving them, a key part of this gambit had slipped his mind.

The Myriad could fly, right?

It would be awfully embarrassing to go all the way up here only to find himself alone.

As if waiting for his doubt, Cal felt a pulse of magic from beneath him, and then a brilliant light zipped out. It rose rapidly and began gaining on him.

Many at this level could achieve some form of flight. Cal's method was simple, but he'd seen enough others to know the possibilities. Watching William surf on a bolt of lightning added another method to his list.

Cal judged its rate of advance and decided he wasn't far enough yet.

Raising a fist to the sky, he called on another wind manifestation. Cal could not pull off some of the fancy things like Marcus could, but wind was his most used element, and he'd picked up a couple of things.

His speed drastically increased as his fist began piercing through the air itself. It guided the natural wind around his body, reducing the air resistance against himself. He glanced beneath him, taking a closer look at William's pursuit.

It was, admittedly, a pretty cool way to fly.

However, it may not have been as practical as the man might have hoped for, as the bolt zigzagged back and forth in its pursuit of Cal. It looked like he was riding a raging bull.

That was lightning for you.

Wild ride or not, William was still somehow catching up.

Cal decided to do something about that.

With the distance he'd gained from the ground, he was comfortable enough to get slightly bolder. He breathed in, forming the magic right in front of his mouth. Condensing the wind, it rotated in place and gained speed as he fed it energy. Before launching it, there was one more thing to do. Cal formed a second manifestation, this one designed to amplify sound.

No sigils were used, and the only warning of the deadly sliver of air was a piercing shrill that echoed through the sky. It grated on his own ears, and he witnessed as William forced his bolt to the side to avoid it, buying Cal more time to climb.

All things considered, it hadn't gained him a whole lot of space.

Cal didn't care, as he'd totally nailed that. Sure, it wasn't exactly like the original's, but screw that guy. This was Cal's cloak now.

Fresh off that high, he launched several others, filling the night with their haunting wails.

William did not seem to like that, and he evaded left and right before his bolt abruptly faded from existence. Hands and legs held wide, each limb sparked before streams of electricity converged and lashed out at him. With very little time to react, Cal hurriedly manifested a burst of wind from his free hand, sending him careening sideways.

While tumbling through the air, he watched as a crackling disk of electricity flew past him. It carried the scent of burning ozone, and after reaching its apex, it exploded outward, forming a concave.

A beat later, Cal realized what it was. He released a small chuckle, as anyone in the city happening to look up would be scratching their heads wondering why there was a net of electricity hanging over a few blocks.

Focusing back on the new obstacle, he determined there were two options: he could divert and go around it, risking being caught by William, who had manifested his board again, or he could barrel through.

Naturally, Cal chose the latter.

Power pulled into his shell for a moment before being channeled into the area around his fist. The energy writhed and shifted as he forced the structure to change from one of utility to one of offense.

His magic collided with William's, drilling into the net. It resisted fiercely, and Cal could feel the ends of it beginning to wrap around him like a maw looking to devour him. Cal did not want to discover what would happen if it fully closed around him. While he had the option to overpower it with sheer magic, he first chose to try wrestling the magic away from the man again. Reaching out, he sensed the ethereal touch of the foreign magic and yanked. The structure fluctuated briefly, and he pushed his manifestation forward. Wind cut through lightning, and Cal wasted no time squeezing through the small tear made.

Cal surmised that William's focus on his surfboard must have been significant to let a slip like that pass. But it wasn't the only reason, as Cal quickly noticed multiple Williams beneath him. He glanced beyond them, realizing the warehouse had shrunken to the size of his fist.

This was probably enough? At the very least, he should be clear to become more liberal with his manifestations.

Cal ceased any attempts to go higher, letting his momentum play itself out while the Williams approached. The temperature up here was low, and he was certain he'd be rubbing his arms right now if not for his blood running so hot.

Six flew up to him, two remaining underneath, two going above, and the remainder staying at his level. They didn't stay still; each bolt underneath kept them in constant movement. Fingers pointed in his direction, and sparks leapt from them, converging on Cal.

Did he seriously think that would work?

Cal decided the best teacher was experience. With a hand held behind him, he propelled himself forward with a burst of wind, rocketing through one of the copies before the attack could land. The subsequent explosion of discharged electricity missed him entirely, as he had already moved well past the blast radius.

He'd been aiming for the original, but William had 'shed' his skin at the last moment, leaving the copy in his wake.

Cal doubled back, counteracting his momentum with an even stronger wind manifestation and sending him hurtling back toward the man. William seemed to learn his lesson, and Cal swept a hand in front of him, manifesting a chaotic mass of air that batted away the ball of electricity he had been about to fly face-first into. With irritation, his eyes scanned for where William had gone scampered off to. He found him and three copies charging him.

Good.

Cal held his palm flat and brought it up to his chest, keeping it horizontal. Power wrapped around it, and in a fluid motion, he extended the arm. A blade of air silently slashed toward his challengers. They sensed its approach and made to evade, some dipping above and others below. However, it was too fast and large for them all to avoid it. One of the copies was clipped, the attack shearing through its leg and causing its destruction. Cal frowned. That was a bad rate of return; he wouldn't be doing that again.

He pushed himself to the side, avoiding a halberd and forming magic in front of his mouth, eliminating another copy with his whistle.

His back was impacted as a hammer pounded at his shell. He'd sensed it coming, but maneuvering in the air was not easy.

There was more than one reason Cal hated flying.

He kicked back, collapsing the copy and using another burst of wind to get him out of the resulting explosion.

The original approached next, and Cal met the rapier with his fist. It cut into his shell, trying to pierce through to flesh. With a grunt, Cal pushed back, his augmented strength winning out. As the man was forced back, William flicked his wrist. Cal shifted his forearm quickly, feeling the blade scrape against the shell coating it.

Between Cal's classes and observing others, he had noticed his ability to 'fight' begin to improve. It was small things, like knowing what the position of a blade told you of the user's intent or what the stance of their feet said about their style.

That was to say, a few months ago, he would have felt that blade against his neck instead of his arm. However, a few weeks of training could not bridge the gap of years of study, and William's swordplay was leagues beyond any martial skill he possessed. Had they been operating on a level playing field, Cal would have been in serious trouble.

But they weren't, and even without his newfound insights, Cal would not be on the backfoot.

A whirling gale made itself at home on his fist. It was his favored manifestation, having ended the lives of countless cultists and beasts alike. He punched forward. There was nothing to stop its advance, and to the rising annoyance of Cal, it pierced through another copy. Like the others before it, just when he was about to do damage, the man managed to slip out and leave a copy.

If he had known William would be this difficult to pin down, he wouldn't have wasted his first punch testing him out.

Cal jerked his head to the side, letting a lance of lightning flash past. No, that was his frustration speaking. He'd been right to play it conservative. Killing a Finger, in disguise or not, wasn't on the list of things he wanted to do tonight.

He zoned in on the source of the lance, and the attacking copy was rewarded with a whistle and oblivion.

Fingers extended, he concentrated magic at their tips and then raked both hands down, unleashing blades of wind toward the original. William cleaved through them with his sword, and Cal was soon face to face with him again.

His left hand caught the sword, feeling it bite into his shell.

Any trace of confidence on William's face was a forgotten memory, replaced with grim determination.

Blade held within his grip, Cal squeezed, exerting every ounce of strength available to him. The metal shattered in his palm, and Cal lashed out with another fist.

His opponent abandoned the broken weapon, retreating with haste and leaving a copy to buy time. A whistle made short work of it, but soon another was left in its place, and he found himself searching for the original. It didn't take long, and Cal pressed the attack against William.

While he went through the motions, he allowed a part of his mind to step back.

He'd win the test of endurance, but aside from his opening strike, he'd not landed a single hit on the man. It was extremely irritating. William just kept avoiding everything thrown at him and hurling more manifestations at him. Cal's ability at aerial combat, or lack thereof, ensured his opponent was able to navigate around his attacks and keep in the fight.

Cal internally grumbled at the fact that he was fighting a copy of himself. Not a literal copy like the ones he was destroying, but in terms of fighting style. There were differences, of course, but they shared more than a few similarities.

Why did he think coming up here was a good idea?

Right, it was to cut loose.

But that's not really what he was doing, was it?

Sure, he was pushing his augmentation a sliver past what he was comfortable with and was giving out manifestations like cheap candy, but is this what he would use against one of them?

No, it wasn't.

He had his tricks, but when it came down to fighting at that level, there was one he kept going back to.

Given he still needed this body and face, doing it wouldn't work. But since Cal had the edge physically, he could afford to do things a tad differently.

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He pushed the connection all the way open, saturating his body with magic. None of it escaped him, and Cal took care not to let any of it bleed into his shell.

Ignoring the attacks, Cal restarted his ascent. His departure did not go unchallenged, and he batted away what he could, weathering blows with his shell when he couldn't.

Pressure built within him, and he felt his body start to protest at the rapid buildup of magic. It was counterintuitive to keep drawing it into him at this point; it did nothing to make him any faster or stronger. He did not let that dissuade him, and soon moisture began to cling to his cloak, indicating he was among the clouds.

There was a spark, and the surroundings came alive with arcs of lightning jumping to and fro. He weaved through them as best he could, looking up and seeing a copy in his path. His whistle cleaved it in two, and he continued higher. The magic launched against him was not aimless, and he found himself being pushed into confrontations with more and more copies. They fell one after another, and Cal did his best to prevent them from delaying him.

Beginning to feel bloated, an axe caught his shoulder, and he punched the copy's face in without slowing down. Cut off from his magic, his shell had nearly broken there.

It was difficult to focus on the danger, as he'd gone from mild discomfort to feeling like his insides were on fire. Shunting the power to his shell would protect him and, more importantly, make the mass of magic inside him far more tolerable. He would not allow such a temptation to win out, and he kept a tight lid on it. His magic would not be out in the world for any longer than it absolutely needed to be.

With the burning sensation, Cal's senses grew as foggy as his surroundings. Gravity was the only thing guiding his ascent.

Was this high enough?

Cal twisted his torso, avoiding a spear point. The sudden movement made it feel like he'd ripped his own spine out. He backhanded the copy and held back a groan as his arm felt like it could have flown off with that action.

How much had he stored in his body? It wasn't the same quantity he threatened to use against the Spirit, and so he didn't relent. He grabbed at every ounce of power that came through, despite feeling like his body might break down at any moment. It had been a while, but he'd done this before, and he knew what the point of no return was.

"Have you reached your limit?" William asked breathlessly, appearing above him and striking at him with a mace. "It was an admirable attempt."

Cal didn't reply, raising his forearm to block the blow. The mace bounced off him, and yet he felt like his arm might as well have been shattered.

There was too much magic running in him, and it wouldn't survive another movement like that. Skin began to split apart as he felt his body unable to contain the dense concentration of magic inside of him. It was a credit to his skill that he was still functional.

All of a sudden, Cal could see clearly again. He had made it past the clouds.

This had to be good enough.

He wasn't alone up here, and soon dozens of clones joined him. They covered every angle, trapping him in a formation the shape of a sphere. It seemed he was not the only one making a big move. He watched them raise their weapons and zip forward. Cal only diverted enough attention to ensure none were angling for his head. He still needed that.

Taking a deep breath, Cal regretted it immediately as he felt his lungs pop one after another. It was a good thing they weren't required right now.

His knowledge of sound magic was narrow, but there were one or two things he knew how to do well.

Cal forced his arms wide apart, tendons straining under the pressure. He reached deep within, grasping at the well of magic inside him, readying it to power a single, decisive manifestation.

He was pushed forward as a blade tore through his shell and emerged from his abdomen. Others soon joined it. He did not allow them to distract him, and he wove the magic carefully, layering it far beyond what anyone might have thought possible.

Satisfied, there was only one thing left to do.

With multiple weapons pierced through his body, Cal clapped.

The blowing wind, the buzzing electricity, his labored breath—all ceased to exist for a single moment as the world itself stuttered. The air rippled, shuddering as an invisible wave of sound surged in every direction.

Copies burst, offering as little resistance as the clouds did to the crashing shockwave. It tore through the night sky, dashing away everything in sight and leaving only two figures. They hung there, illuminated by the twinkling stars above, as reality tried to pull itself together.

With the excess magic expelled, Cal's body was already healing, knitting itself together with impressive urgency. Sadly, he did not have the luxury of waiting for a full recovery. He picked his head up, seeing William had also been forced onto his back by the blast.

In an instant, he was above the still-conscious yet dazed man. He cupped his hands together, raising them overhead.

"Grace?" William choked out, blood dribbling from his mouth.

No, Cal.

He brought his hands down on the man's chest, the shimmer of his shell visible as it took the impact.

William was launched downward, streaking like a meteor to the ground. It wasn't enough for Cal, and he caught up to the man, hammering him with a barrage of punches. Each one pushed him away, only for Cal to close the distance and deliver another.

Dull thuds rapidly filled the empty sky as Cal unendingly rained blows on the exposed man. There was no opportunity given to counter; Cal's first attack had already been enough to overwhelm the man's shell, and while he had managed to reform it, all he could manage at this point was a desperate attempt to maintain its integrity.

After what felt like an eternity but was less than a second, Cal felt his fist sink into the man's chest, bones crumbling under the force of his attack.

He pulled back before he opened a hole in him. Grabbing the man's shoulders, Cal inadvertently looked into the man's eyes. They didn't waver, determination etched into them.

Not bad.

Their foreheads met, and William's head rocked back, his eyes falling shut.

Still holding onto him, Cal watched for any signs of deception, but none made themselves known.

The Myriad was thoroughly knocked out.

He relaxed, allowing both of them to continue their free fall. As his body continued to mend itself, muscles weaving together and skin sealing shut, Cal scanned the area for the warehouse. He did not find it. What he did find was a smoldering crater.

What. The. Fuck.

Could he not leave them alone for a minute or two?

Cal grabbed William by the collar, pushing himself toward the now-burning industrial district.

Without someone constantly throwing lightning in his face, the trip was remarkably shorter. He breathed a sigh of relief as he began to recognize the signatures of people he didn't want dead. The area was nearly unrecognizable, the only trace of the former building being scattered pieces of rubble. The surrounding buildings hadn't been left unscathed; their facades were either ripped open or leveled completely.

Miss Plusier stood in front of the hole. Burning embers fell around her, yet he could see her robe untouched. Faced opposite her was the knight from before. She stood in defiance, her greatsword trembling, but held up all the same.

Behind her, Lily struggled to her feet. She was coated in ash, and her right leg did not look the correct shape. Her outfit was shredded in places, with the edges of the punctures being stained a dark red. Beneath her was collapsed but still breathing Alice. Despite her lack of consciousness, she looked in a much better state than Lily.

The remainder of William's retinue was scattered around. Several of the less injured were attempting to perform first aid to their comrades.

All that stopped as he landed by the group. A symphony of hitched breaths and gasps met him.

"Done already?" Miss Plusier responded with disappointment in her tone. "We've only just begun ourselves."

There was a curse as one of William's retinue fell to the floor, his leg collapsing after having his tendons severed by a needle.

Right, don't leave the psycho alone again.

"S-sir!" The knight with the greatsword turned to him. Her eyes seemed to have trouble believing what she was seeing, but she managed to compose herself. "Release him!"

She was in no position to be barking orders, but Cal was planning on doing it anyway. What was intended to be a gentle throw turned into a fast lob, causing the woman to be doubled over by the stricken Finger.

He dialed himself back, returning to more normal levels.

"Boss," A piece of concrete mumbled, and Cal hobbled over, his legs not functioning as properly as they should. Pushing it aside revealed a prone Cassey. There was an ugly gash across her front, but it looked cauterized and so was not bleeding. "Crazy hot ended up getting me out of there," she rasped through chapped lips. "So I think I have a chance."

Cal contemplated putting the slab of concrete back on. For better or worse, he grabbed the girl's outstretched hand, hauling her up. She leaned against him, unable to stand on her own. Disregarding any sense of propriety, his magic intruded in her, assessing the damage. She gave an involuntary shudder but remained still under his inspection.

Not great; he needed to get her to the captain to arrange for proper care.

He gave Miss Plusier a nod of thanks and then raised his hand, pointing at her and the city, telling her it was time to get lost.

"In my prime, that would have been enough to earn your last breath." Her eyes roamed over him. "Though that fate may yet befall you, even without my gentle ministrations."

Thankfully, due to the way in which it was constructed with long individual threads, his disguise remained structurally intact. That being said, there was more than a little visible damage, and he must have looked to be in a sorry state.

Cal didn't respond, and he was about to level a glare before remembering that hadn't worked before on account of his hood.

Still supporting Cassey, he took a step forward in challenge, indicating he was more than ready to fight her if needed.

Which was true. He looked far worse than he was and was perfectly capable of initiating a fight. However, it would need to be away from here, lest she try to use hostages. Cal was evaluating his options in silence when her shoulders sagged, and she began massaging one of them.

"Rest easy, dearie, for age is not just a number, and it is about time I get to bed." She straightened and then performed a curtsy. "Lady Arcutien, Lady Ardere—oh, still sleeping, are we? Well, in any case, a pleasure to have served you today."

She was gone in a blink, and one would be forgiven for questioning if she ever stood there in the first place.

Cal should be doing the same right now and scooped Cassey up, realizing she was not fit to travel under her own power.

His back was turned when he heard a shout.

"Wait!" Lily stood, sparks sputtering around her. They flickered, struggling to come to fruition. "You're just going to leave?!"

Was this chick sane? If he was an actual bad guy, she and everyone here would be corpses in short order. It was something everyone else seemed aware of as they looked at her, trying to will her to be silent.

A scoff was given in reply. Not his own, of course. No, it came from his arms.

"We didn't get paid to kill any of you," Cassey grunted out. "And we don't work for free."

Quirks aside, she was a good agent.

Cal did not wait for a response and, under the eyes of everyone, sped off into the night. He needed to see the girl tended to, but overall, he'd chalk today off as a win.

No one in their right mind would be looking at Callum Ardere after today. He was finally free and clear to start his obscure academy life.