Isyd observed Söyem, not taken aback by her reaction. From the little he knew about her, he could have guessed that contrary to Henryk, she wasn’t the type to let an opportunity such as this go to waste.

“I must admit that Aaron was correct,” Söyem said softly. “I underestimated you, but I must recognise you are talented. Very much so. I’m glad we have a new talent like yours in the Academy.”

There was no hint of mockery in her words, only sincere admiration. Isyd pocketed the token and then nodded his head in thanks.

“That being said, this only motivates me further to challenge you! After all, it is the reason why we are all here tonight. I shall face you with no regard to your Year or Opening and give you my all. I hope you understand what this means, Isyd Wybrany!”

“I do,” Isyd answered simply.

“Then en garde! And do not disappoint me!”

She threw two Windblades at him. Isyd ducked the first one and [Deflected] the second. This gave him just enough space to pick up the mace left behind by the puppet armour. The weight was awkward in his hand, but the size matched that of his palcat. This would do.

He rushed at Söyem who appeared momentarily surprised to see him prefer close-combat against her. She took a stance and swung at him. She had the advantage because her blade was longer and offered a better reach. Isyd met the steel head-on without flinching and brandished the mace. Its flanges met with the sharp edge of her sword and sparks flew out as it was deflected. Their exchanges of blows were brief and precise. Attacks, parries and counter-attacks flowed into one another in quick succession. The quick footwork of Isyd didn’t allow Söyem to play with her range advantage. He made sure to be at the correct distance, seemingly unbothered by the uneven and treacherous soil.

With a sudden faint, Isyd managed to break Söyem’s stance. The wooden haft slammed on the ricasso with such a force it that made her drop her weapon. With her left hand, Söyem summoned a quick [Air Spell] aimed at his face. The sudden gust of wind, though weak, still momentarily blinded Isyd. This gave Söyem the opportunity to tackle him to the ground. She rolled with him, picked up her sword and brandished it. However, before she could even threaten him with it, the soil sank under her weight and broke her footing. With another [Spell], Isyd drew forth the Water Essence trapped in the mud and SHAPED it into [Ice Chains]. Söyem answered with [Rolling Flames], a fire running along the length of her arm and melting the chains before they could trap her. She then got out of his [Bog Trap] and resumed her sword stance.

“You are a good swordsman as well, Wybrany,” she said, a bit out of breath. “Where did you learn?”

“I am fond of palcaty, that is all,” Isyd said.

“Once I won the Tourney, we should find time to practice together.”

Isyd’s smirk was mocking and he shrugged with one shoulder. He eyed her with suspicion as the Commands began to form once more on the edge of her sword. Isyd was impressed by her ability to use her blade like a wand; not many Artysta could do the same. Despite the [Limiting Arcane], Isyd could see that Söyem was obviously skilled despite her young age, which he found promising. It wasn’t often he met Artysta willing to learn the wielding of weapons, most preferring the bookish study of [Spells]. She lacked experience in the Physical Arts, but it was something that could easily be remedied. Her main strength was in her quick thinking and—

Isyd’s senses perked up as he felt something rushing behind him. He threw himself to the side. Before Söyem could bring back her focus on Isyd, a figure jumped out of the edge of the meadow just from where he stood.

It was Prinse Krovtur and he was running at full speed and didn’t even seem to notice Isyd and Söyem being there. Only halfway into the meadow did he throw a glance behind him. Söyem, first taken by surprise, quickly recovered and redirected her sword at him.

“[Heavenly Needle]!”

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The Windblade coursed the space between them, but Prinse’s reflexes were quicker and he dodged it in extremis.

“Damn you, Nifritovna! Give me some space, will you?” he cursed at her.

“Since you’re here, Krovtur, your tokens and your Blysht! Now!”

He was about to curse back at her but then glanced back at the forest from where he came from. This was also what Isyd was looking at. What he had felt in the Song of the Grace wasn’t Prinse Krovtur per se. It had been something much bigger. Had he been mistaken?

Prinse cast a [Fire Ball] but kept it close to him as if it was a deterrent. Söyem was not impressed and with her left hand, she drew a series of [Wind Swipes] and launched them at him. The [Fire Ball] morphed into a [Fire Wall] to stop the attacks then turned into a [Fire Blade] to riposte. His flames crashed against a quick [Deflecting Spell] thrown by Söyem and scorched the earth around her. Söyem tried to close the gap between them but Prinse kept his distance with a flurry of [Fire Spells]. She tried to walk around them but then ran into Isyd. She parried his mace then fainted a lunge. Moving to avoid it, Isyd was left exposed and she kicked his right hand. He dropped the mace but before she could follow up, he jumped backwards and out of reach of her sword. It was just in time before a [Fiery Arrow] launched by Prinse flew between them. Söyem began casting another [Heavenly Needle] when the ground suddenly began to shake.

First Söyem turned toward Isyd, but he wasn’t casting any [Spell]. Instead, his attention was ported to the forest where the commotion appeared to come from.

“[Mother of Thorns]!”

At the edge of the meadow, the trees came alive. The earth itself began to heave, torn apart as the deep roots rose above the ground. Dead shrubs and fallen leaves coalesced into a growing mass slowly towering over the canopy. The trees and underbrush coiled and knotted together, vines and thorns slithered up its length to encase the body. It was a hulking creation, a twisted tower with wiggling limbs like tendrils atop which stood Marzena Tchepwa, hands to her side with [Fluid Spells].

“You ran fast, I give you that, Prinse!” she shouted to be heard from the ten-meter height that separated them.

Marzena wiggled her fingers and her [Mother of Thorns] began moving with deceptive speed. One of its arms was aimed at Prinse. To his credit, the young man stood his ground. He swiped the air, first horizontally then vertically.

“[Slash and Burn]!”

The Commands wrought in golden light appeared in front of him. A horizontal Windblade slashed at the incoming wooden arm with enough strength to almost cut it entirely. It was closely followed by a horizontal strip red of flames that ignited the whole limb and pushed it back. At the same time, another branch grazed over the ground and tried to sweep Isyd and Söyem off their feet. Isyd jumped above it, but Söyem decided to face it.

With her right hand, she tightened her grip on the hilt of her sword and with the left, she held onto her right wrist as if to give it additional support. Her blade shone with a silvery light as the Commands danced on its edge.

“[Moonlight Crescent],” she let out as she brought the sword down.

The air around her blade turned solid and sharp and a crescent of light spewed forth. It cleaved the soil and cut the wooden appendage right off before it could reach her. This [Spell] must have taken a toll on her because Söyem was now panting.

The tree creature moved out of the forest and further into the meadow. It rolled on the ground like a wave, bringing with it its wriggling branches and vines. It was only then that Isyd could see the faint outline of a humane shape with Marzena standing where the neck should have been. Despite its massive size, the creation was surprisingly swift and nimble. It wormed its way to the edge of the meadow to cut off Prinse’s escape and ducked the [Fire Balls] aimed at it. Marzena whirled her hand and a sprout of vine appeared at the young man’s feet and ensnared him before he could react. A wooden tentacle soon wrapped all around Prinse, immobilizing him for good. The snare was like a grip of steel because, despite his best efforts and the sparks of [Fire Spells], it did nothing to the [Mother of Thorns].

Marzena lifted Prinse in the air until they were at eye level. If a glare could kill, Prinse’s dark stare would have murdered Marzena twice over. She didn’t seem to mind and instead searched the pockets of his uniform for any tokens. The fact that she didn’t look for his [Limiting Arcane] meant that it had somehow been destroyed, or already stolen by another participant. Isyd, slightly amused, wondered if his little trap earlier with the Resonance had got Prinse.

Isyd pointed his right hand at them, about to cast a [Spell]. It was then he heard a familiar Song in the Grace, a Song he had not heard for what felt like forever, though it had only been a year.

Windblade came out from the edge of the meadow and easily severed the limb holding Prinse, sending him crashing to the ground. From a sparse clearing of the woods stepped out Kazian Zenovbia, he who Isyd better knew as Kazian of the Winds.