The Witch of the North was a striking and petite woman, her form commanding attention despite her modest height of just over five feet. Ice-blue eyes gleamed with an unsettling intensity, framed by jet-black hair and sharp features that tapered to a pointed chin. Her attire was as practical as it was elegant: a form-fitting battle suit cloaked in a golden-hued mantle that caught the light like polished metal.
For the first time since entering the Colosseum, Nasq’s expression betrayed caution. Not fear, exactly, but trepidation was evident in the beads of sweat rolling down his temples and the tight clench of his jaw.
“What element is she?” I asked, tilting my chin toward the woman’s cloak.
“Divine attribute, obviously,” Hannah replied, rolling her eyes as though the answer should have been obvious.
My eyebrows shot up, ignoring the casual rudeness. “Divinity? A magic core allows access to the power of the gods?”
“Of course,” she said with an air of teasing condescension. “Magic cores pull in mana from the world around us, and divine—or holy—energy is part of that mix.”
“Most mages can’t sense it, though,” Brianna added. “It takes a particular resonance, usually appearing only in mages and sorcerers who’ve been blessed by religious organizations.” She moved to hover over my shoulder and in a low voice meant only for me, she muttered, “Like a certain saintess of the Life Goddess, for instance.”
I decided that sounded like a problem for another day. “Is it a powerful form of magic?”
Darrow, ever eager to chime in, sneered and answered before Hannah could. “Obviously. By the gods, Lady Lilliana, you’re astonishingly uninformed. Did your House not educate you?”
“They did not,” I replied flatly, not bothering to look at him.
“Nasq has already used nearly all basic elemental forms,” Brianna noted, steering the conversation back to the sorcerer's fight. “Fire, water, wind, and earth. He’s also employed branch magics like lightning and light, as well as raw mana.” She turned to me, curiosity burning in her gaze. “Can he use divine mana, too?”
I shrugged. “Perhaps.”
“I thought you were the unknown variable in Lysoria,” Brianna muttered as she took her place next to Hannah again, moving away from me, “but maybe it’s actually him. Who is he? I’ve never heard of any sorcerer or mage being able to wield every type of magic.” Her eyes bored into mine. In a softer tone, she asked, “Who is he, really? Some noble?”
“Do you believe only nobles possess great affinities?” I asked, tilting my head with disappointment. “Nobles may breed themselves for advantage like prized animals, but natural talent isn’t actually confined to bloodlines.”
“Did you just compare my bloodline to a common animal?” Darrow bellowed from beside me.
His indignation was cut short by the booming voice of Jarold as it rang across the Colosseum. “START!”
For the first time in the tournament, Nasq didn’t immediately attack. Instead, he raised his hands, conjuring complex magic circles that pulsed with energy. Arcane words spilled from his lips like a torrent, each syllable making the circles flare brighter. A spherical shield coalesced around him just as Bellatrix unleashed a golden blast of mana.
My eyes widened at the display of offensive holy magic. The energy radiated an oppressive righteousness, pervading a demand for retribution upon its guilty target.
“She’s starting with a smite?” Victor whistled loudly in awe over the noise of the audience. “She must want to end this as quickly as possible. That’s high-level magic—it should have drained her mana a substantial amount."
Victor was proven wrong in an instant. Bellatrix unleashed another blast, and then another, each identical to the first. The golden barrages struck Nasq’s shield with explosive force, scattering prismatic sparks throughout the arena. Those closest to the fight were either struck by the stray magic or hastily conjured defensive barriers.
Raising my own invisible shield of heart energy, I casually protected our seating area from the residual blasts. My precaution was unnecessary though, as Alaric was already forming his own shimmering barrier, reinforcing our safety without missing a beat.
The third impact cracked Nasq’s shield. He leaped away just before the divine mana broke through, obliterating the ground where he’d stood. All that remained where the blasts had struck was a large hole in the stadium and scorched dirt.
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Nasq retaliated with an eruption of viscous black tendrils of raw mana whipping toward Bellatrix. She spun gracefully, summoning a radiant sphere of golden energy with large waves of her arms. Nasq’s raw mana, however, didn’t collide with the divine mana.
Instead, right before contact, both types of magic fizzled out of existence with a soft hiss and a puff of opaque smoke. Neither paused to watch the theatrics, already conjuring their next attacks.
Bellatrix maintained distance, golden mana swirling around her like a tempest. Nasq closed the gap, bombarding her with elemental spells: fire, water, wind, earth, lightning, and more. Each attack pushed her back, forcing her onto the defensive.
I couldn’t help but smile as Nasq adapted his strategy, seamlessly weaving magic to exploit every opportunity and to avoid direct contact with the divine mana. He launched a geyser of water at her, only to turn it to ice the moment it touched the ground under her feet and throwing her off balance.
A fireball erupted from Nasq's outstretched arms and skated across the ice, colliding with her despite her frantic attempt to regain stability. Though the attack seared deep burn marks across her body, they vanished almost instantly, the wounds mending seamlessly as golden light wove through her flesh like threads of radiant silk.
“That’s incredibly fast healing,” I observed.
“Divine energy excels at healing,” Hannah said. “Using it offensively just means she has a lot. It’s pretty inefficient. The only offensive spell divine attribute magic has is smiting spells. I haven’t heard of anyone outside the Holy Kingdom being trained to use divine mana offensively like this.”
“Bellatrix is a freak of nature,” Darrow grumbled. “Heir to a duchy, fighting in a tournament. Absurd.”
I glanced at him. “Don’t you have someone else to irritate? Friends? Family? Followers?" He glared and pursed his lips, but said nothing.
Nasq finally closed the distance, his fist driving through the shield of golden mana as though it were mist. The divine energy seemed to not attempt to repel the physical strike, allowing it to pass through unrestricted.
I glanced around, expecting shock, but no one seemed surprised. It was strange, given how much emphasis had been placed on the strength of divine mana. Catching Brianna’s gaze, she stepped closer, maneuvering herself between me and Hannah to murmur in my ear.
“Divine mana and holy magic usually don’t interact with the physical world—only with other mana. Smiting spells are the exception, but defensive holy magic won’t block physical attacks. Nasq had no better option than to rely on brute force.”
Nasq pressed his advantage with a relentless flurry of punches and kicks, each strike honed by, and reminiscent of, the rigorous training sessions where I’d beaten into him the importance of adaptability. I had once found myself at the end of a noose for overreliance on long-range attacks, a mistake I was determined not to let Nasq repeat.
Mana of every type swirled around Nasq, weaving through his movements as his fists pummeled Bellatrix. She was unable to mount any meaningful defense against his physical assault. Each time she attempted to retaliate with the golden smiting skill she had first demonstrated, Nasq deftly neutralized it with raw mana, dismantling her efforts before they could take form.
The fight was an impressive showing for Nasq. He not only demonstrated his overwhelming power, but his wide range of knowledge and understanding of magic. It had taken him only minutes to develop a strategy against divine mana, weaving together an impressive combination of raw mana and physical strikes to render the ducal daughter unable to respond beyond desperate flails for survival.
When Nasq’s magic-laden kick slammed into Bellatrix’s ribs, a resounding crack echoed through the arena. Without missing a beat, he conjured an arrow of raw mana, its razor-sharp tip glinting with lethal intent, and aimed it at her chest with a decisive wave of his hand.
“Ah,” I groaned aloud, a note of exasperation coloring my voice. It struck me then—Nasq had never faced a combatant close to his level who was also lacking in physical prowess. Nida or I could have blocked or dodged that magic arrow even while on the defensive, but Bellatrix… she didn’t stand a chance.
The stadium seemed to freeze as Nasq’s arrow streaked toward her chest. Only inches away, Bellatrix’s death was certain.
Unless the strike was stopped.
Which it was.
A third-realm magic core flared to life in the audience, directly in front of me. Veins of raw power surged outward, colliding with Nasq’s arrow. The explosion lit up the arena, scattering shards of mana and sending the combatants hurtling apart.
Then I saw him.
The core’s owner—a man radiating bloodlust—vaulted from his seat. Duke Elliot Granger.
His aura was overwhelming and his intent as he barreled after his magic toward Nasq was unmistakable. My gaze flicked to the stands, searching for anyone who might interfere on Nasq's behalf, but none of the judges moved.
My own core ignited, silver energy surging outward in defense of my paragon.
The Duke of House Granger stepped into the chaos within seconds, his form imposing as he materialized beside Nasq. The mage was barely clinging to consciousness, sprawled on the ground after his spell’s forced backlash. The Duke’s fist, encased in a silver gauntlet etched with runes and magic circles, hung poised in the air. He sneered at the half-conscious sorcerer before slamming his arm downward.
Hannah’s worried gaze snapped to me, but I was already gone.
I reached Nasq seconds before the punch would have pulverized him, my enchanted blade a blur as it cut toward the Duke's neck. I wasn't sure if I had the power to deflect a third-realm sorcerer's direct attack, but I knew I could take his head off.
The Duke knew it too, as he instantly shifted away from Nasq to raise his gauntlet in defense of his neck.
A perfect excuse, I thought, suppressing a grin. I’d been wondering whether one of Elyndor’s high-realm elites needed to die. Luckily, one had just volunteered.