Chapter VI

“Would you like to be powerful, Rickori? Would you like the strength to stand up against even the mightiest of adversaries? I can give it to you, you know? I can help you harness a strength this world has never seen before, so drop to your knees and become mine. Only then can you begin to fulfill the task I shall set for you, and only then can you start the process of unraveling the titan’s grip the Iijis have on this empire. I have faith you can do it, so have faith in yourself…and take my hand.”

As blue flames ravaged the halls of Ankalla’s second floor, their destructive wrath nearly overwhelming him, Keskivaara suddenly found his mind long in the past, hearing the words that pushed him to become who he was now. He had been offered power in exchange for his obedience, and in his desire to do everything he could to make his home a better place for everybody, he took the devil’s hand and struck a deal. Even to this very day, he didn’t fully grasp the motivations of that person who infused in him a means of wielding power that could rival the Iijis, and oftentimes did he ponder whether he had been nothing more than a means to an end for his master, but if he was, then whatever the end goal was, he could not begin to guess it.

And perhaps it doesn’t really matter, he internally remarked. Because without that person, without that power, I’d have been killed long ago. I wouldn’t have been able to withstand the onslaught of Ilirianna in Stellareid, and this juggernaut barreling down on me right this minute would have incinerated my body within his fires. But I’m alive…and I have a job to do!

Curse King Markreas Iiji with the Teritus.

That was his goal. He didn’t need to defeat the King of Ijiria in combat, rather he just had to touch him a single time. All things considered, it sounded like a simple task regardless of who he was up against, but after witnessing what this man did to the front gates of the fortress, Keskivaara knew that it would take everything in his arsenal to so much as graze him.

Right… Everything, huh? Well, I suppose if it comes to it…

The People’s Mind cut himself off, not wanting to allow that train of thought to progress as he twisted his body midair and skidded to a halt twenty yards down the corridor from where Markreas now stood, his hulking form seeming bigger than it had when he first gazed upon him at the wall. Blue fires were coiling around the King like serpents, a wild power that had somehow been tamed by a mage that was far beyond even Keskivaara. Nevertheless, he gripped his shortsword tightly in his right hand as he turned his body and crossed the blade before him in a defensive stance, his eyes locked on his opponent and his breathing calm despite the grim situation he was in. The cultists who had been up on that floor with him were all burnt to ash in Markreas’s initial charge, consumed by his fire before they even realized who it was that had killed them. The remains of the released fires still burned in various places on the carpet and walls, resulting in a growing amount of smoke filling their surroundings. Sweat was pouring down Keskivaara’s brow, his feet remaining light and filled with wind magic so he could dodge at a moment’s notice.

Yet, it seemed Markreas was sizing him up, for a few seconds had already passed where neither of the men moved so much as an inch.

Perhaps, even a person as arrogant as him won’t take me so lightly. I’m sure Ilirianna reported on her battle with me, so I’d be surprised if Markreas didn’t have some idea of what I can do. I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing, but I guess it doesn't really matter. I’m stuck fighting him regardless…

Therefore, if Markreas was going to briefly strategize, Keskivaara knew he’d be a fool not to. After all, despite what the world may have believed, Ilirianna was not an Iiji by blood, and therefore, Markreas would be far stronger than her, with a control over light and dark magic that the Princess didn’t have. Not only would Keskivaara have to be on his guard for the base five magics, but he had to both sense for Markreas’s signature merging with any shadows and be ready for him to flash towards him at a speed Keskivaara couldn’t match.

Which means, I need to prioritize some defense…

With that thought, Keskivaara sent rock magic flowing through his body, forming around his torso and neck, though keeping it sparse enough to not slow his movements when he inevitably tried to run again.

I’ll be shocked if armor like this won’t shatter the second Markreas’s sword strikes me, but I suppose it’s far better than nothing.

Markreas narrowed his eyes suddenly, his bearded face twisting with consideration as he stood up straighter and cocked an eyebrow. “There’s something strange about you, People’s Mind. I already knew you were powerful, but there’s something else within you… Something…foreign...”

Swallowing back the sudden stabbing of fear in his chest, Keskivaara forced a confident grin to conceal any reaction he experienced to that statement. “Unfortunately, I have no idea what you’re talking about, Your Majesty. I’m nothing more than me…”

“No…” Markreas snorted, as if suddenly losing interest. “Well, no matter… Whatever it is about you that I’m sensing, I’ll identify it in your autopsy. I suppose I’ll just have to hold back enough to leave something behind to analyze.” Then, as if a switch was flipped, the King’s calm demeanor snapped to the wild one he had before, his mouth widening in a massive grin as the flames swirling his body surged in response. “In the names of everybody you slaughtered at Stellareid, I shall make you suffer!”

When the fires beneath the King’s feet exploded without the speaking of an incantation, Keskivaara was able to quickly confirm something he had already suspected—Markreas could fight without having to utter the incantation, just like Keskivaara had been taught to do. It was unfortunate given that Ilirianna had not been able to do so, but once again, the People’s Mind had to remind himself that he wasn’t up against Ilirianna.

Keskivaara watched as Markreas launched himself down the hall, his massive broadsword raised overhead and glowing bright blue in the otherwise dark corridor, but unlike the last time, he didn’t turn around and flee. Instead, he infused his own weapon with blue fire and swung upwards to meet the King’s strike head-on. The second the two swords made contact, the world erupted in a blinding flash of blue that brought with it the crashing sounds of their surroundings being torn apart. Keskivaara had hoped to use Quitala, a spell that would launch a mage’s attack back at them, but either Markreas had thought to do the same or Keskivaara just wasn’t strong enough to make it work. Either way, he felt his body flinging through the air, a searing pain spreading across his skin from the overwhelming heat filling everything around him. He silently sent nature magic pulsing through him to make sure that any wounds opened would close immediately, but he was soon taken off guard when he slammed into the ground below him.

He let out a grunt of agony, having believed himself to have been launched backwards. Yet, it soon dawned on him that their convergence must have destroyed the floor beneath them, and in the blinding light, he had become so disoriented that he hadn’t been able to tell up from down. However, even a second of delay could mean death, so Keskivaara rolled backwards and onto his feet, feeling the rubble around him and hearing the cries of people in his surroundings. Luckily, even in a situation where he couldn’t quite see and where there were multiple powerful mages in his vicinity, Markreas’s mana signature was still by far the most identifiable, and it was now hurtling down at him from above.

Keskivaara sent a controlled burst of wind into his foot, propelling himself backwards just as an arc of orange slammed into the ground where he had just been, a circular wave blowing outwards on impact. Markreas didn’t hesitate after missing, his feet already pushing him in the direction Keskivaara had pivoted without missing a step. Just as his eyes properly adjusted to the darker environment, the People’s Mind saw the massive broadsword rapidly descending on him, so relying purely on his instincts, he swung his weapon up to deflect the King’s again, this time preparing himself for the inevitable backlash.

But Markreas didn’t follow the same pattern as before.

To Keskivaara's horror, he watched the King’s blade shift at the last minute from being engulfed in blue fires to losing its mass entirely as it turned into a sword of light that sliced right through Keskivaara’s weapon. The top part of the sword flew away, leaving him gaping at the nearly bladeless pommel left gripped in his hand that he was forced to frantically toss aside as Markreas pressed forward, snapping his arms up to send another strike at the People’s Mind, though this one was obviously meant to cut him in half. Being light magic, dodging was completely out of the question, and the only reason Keskivaara survived was because he was already in the process of Protoing in the opposite direction. Yet, even that didn’t fully spare him from the sting of that sword cutting through the rock armor around his stomach and singing the surface of his skin.

He didn’t have time to try and heal that wound as Markreas’s left hand abruptly released the sword, his palm raised to aim at Keskivaara just as a wave of blue fire erupted from it. His legs hit the carpet, Proto sent him darting towards the wall on his right, meanwhile his hands began to burn with his own blue fires that he used to blast straight through that wall, sending him tumbling into the space beyond as Markreas’s fire destroyed the corridor he had just barely escaped. Keskivaara knew he was relying mostly on his instincts, and that if he was removed from this current state of mental calmness then he would be dead in seconds.

“I do believe that with my guidance, you could someday even strike down an Iiji.”

Keskivaara grinned bitterly as the entire wall he had just blown through was completely destroyed by Markreas’s Caeruinfernus, and as a wall of flames replaced the wall of stone, the King stalked through unharmed.

Master… If you really believed I could ever beat somebody like this, then you never actually fought an Iiji…

Body tense, Keskivaara found himself on a sheltered path around an abandoned square courtyard. The King’s expression remained perfectly unconcerned whereas Keskivaara debated the moment to flee, standing still with his legs bent. The wider area of the courtyard gave him more room to dodge Markreas’s attacks, but something told him it would hardly make a difference.

The King of Ijiria suddenly flared his mana to a stunning degree, prompting the Keskivaara to send wind magic into his legs and leap right over a stone railing to roll across the grass. Yet, as if to mock him, the King had made no attack. His head was turned to the side, following him with an unimpressed smirk as Keskivaara’s eyes widened. Both hands wrapped around the King’s broadsword as he swung wide, blue fire exploding outward into the abandoned courtyard. Desperately, Keskivaara cast a powerful Proto that tore into the dirt beneath him, his right hand shooting out to latch onto the roof’s edge with Condite. The two spells just barely managed to spare him from the wave of blue fire that turned the stone walls orange, yet the wave of heat still singed his skin.

Flipping once through the air, Keskivaara launched off the roof the second his foot touched down, sensing the King’s oncoming mana. It wasn’t that instinctual reaction that spared Keskivaara’s life, but the King’s arrogance. A beam of pure white light shot out that would have taken his arm if Keskivaara had not dodged just then, and a second later, the smoke parted for the great form of King Markreas, wreathed in wind and flame as he burst after his prey and slammed down where he had just been.

The broadsword raised over its wielder’s right shoulder and swung down, forcing Keskivaara to dodge. More ropes of wind attached his right arm to a spire as his other hand sent a surge of blue flames out, propelling him backward and into a violent arc through the air. Somehow, the fire parted around the King and as it dispersed, Keskivaara bore witness to wind rapidly revolving around the broadsword. Once more, that sword was thrust toward him, sending out an explosive whirlwind that was too wide for him to dodge. He was forced to dismiss Condite lest he entangle himself in it. If he had not, he would be unable to avoid the sequential attack. The whirlwind ignited, orange fire raging in a hellish tornado, leaving Keskivaara with no choice but to extend both hands toward the center of the wind. His left cast Infernus and his right Corsikei, being just enough to free him from the disorienting tornado.

Flying even higher into the air, Keskivaara soared across Ankalla too fast for him to gain his bearings before nearing the wall of the second floor. By strengthening his armor and casting Nex behind him, he managed to endure slamming into the stone, though a sharp exhale left him at the impact. As gravity overtook him, Keskivaara began to slide down the wall and grabbed onto an oncoming window sill. His breathing labored, he quickly healed the worst of his injuries, his arms burned from such usage of blue fire and his throat seared by the heat of that tornado.

Where is he?

He could sense that the King had not moved, mocking him once again. However, he did not remain still for long. Knowing the approaching attack would be just as dangerous as the rest, Keskivaara reinforced his grip with Condite and Protoed off the wall, swinging up and crashing through the window to roll across the carpet.

Spinning around and drawing his mana to his hands, Keskivaara prepared to continue his flight. A roiling mass of blue fire blasted through the wall, incinerating the carpet and singing his skin, even as he flew backward. The flames parted to reveal the King in a crouch, his broadsword held at his right side, ready to lash out at him. Something in Markreas’s eyes betrayed a sharper focus than he previously held, which could only mean he was using a spell that required concentration even from him.

The sword was a distraction as blue fire shot out from the King’s entire body and surged after Keskivaara, forcing him yet again to flee for his life. The flames engulfed the entire hall, floor to ceiling, wall to wall, incinerating the carpet and softening the metal of the fire lamps. Wind exploded from the People’s Mind’s legs as he sped away, seeing a side hall a dozen yards from him. He attached his left arm to the corner with Condite and used Corsikei with his other to throw himself around the bend, the centrifugal force causing him to spin midair to see where he had just become engulfed.

That also allowed him to see the wave of fire turn the corner to follow him.

Shit!

Proto cracked the floor as he launched away, backflipping to return his attention to the front. He ran as fast as his feet could carry him, using magic to reduce wind resistance for even just a little more speed. Once again relying Condite to round a corner, he didn’t even wonder if he had avoided it as he ran along the opposite wall, his ropes of wind still connected to him before they were incinerated and left him flying sideways. His right hand pushed off the ground with Corsikei, rotating him even faster as he righted himself, covering the ground in a thin layer of ice so he could roll without losing speed, yet it melted at the same speed it extended.

Canceling the ice, a burst of wind got him to his feet and he continued to flee. His right hand snaked out to the wall beside him and produced an explosive burst of blue fire that collapsed the hallway. He realized that was a mistake as the falling rubble was sent hurtling toward him by the flames, and as he chanced a look behind him, he found within the flames the visage of a dragon at the forefront of the inferno, a rare and more powerful form of the fire spell “Phoenixio”. The flaming chunks of stone hurtled toward him, propelled by the fire too fast for him to avoid.

Nex! Perkari! Corsikei!

Spinning and blocking a large piece of debris, he managed to slice another in half and dispersed the rest of the fragments into the walls around him. Looking forward once again, he caught sight of some stairs at the end of the hall and Protoed forward, his arc taking him down the flight wildly. Thankfully, that finally saved him from the flaming pursuer as the dragon head crashed into the roof above him, exploding into flames that likely raised the temperature of Ankalla by more than a few degrees.

Another blast of wind midair saved Keskivaara from the flames and falling rubble as he violently slammed into the floor, his nose breaking and a few teeth falling from his lips. However, nature magic healed him almost by reflex as he rolled to his feet and stopped to catch his breath. This wouldn’t slow the King for more than a moment, he knew, and thus he whirled around for the next attack. Instead, he found a group of Korrei-Tarr and Teeth having frozen mid-combat in astonishment a few dozen yards down the hall.

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Alright, I’m surviving far longer than expected, and now I may be in a more ideal spot. Markreas won’t kill his own men, will he? Can I use them as shields? I doubt the Teeth would be of any help.

Yet he had no time to act on his desperate thoughts as the stone roof above him suddenly surged with magic and shot downward in massive spikes that he barely avoided. He stepped back from the first and as the next began to descend, Keskivaara leaped forward and Protoed off the initial spike. Another blasted down at him which he pushed off of with Corsikei, Proto sending him flying from the left wall as he collided with it, though he was forced to latch onto a firelamp with Condite to jerk himself away from the next. Touching down into a sprint as he neared the combatants down the hall, Keskivaara opened his senses as wide as possible, noting more oncoming mana. For some reason, it didn’t seem to be using a medium, merely traveling along—

Ice!

Leaping up, he evaded the sudden wave of ice that traveled down the spikes and across the floor, flash-freezing nearly everything. Keskivaara shot blue fire behind him to protect himself and flew even faster toward the soldiers, realizing that the King had somehow spared his men and made statues of Rei’s Teeth. Knowing they would be of no use and that he could not use Markreas’s men as shields, Keskivaara soared over them and down the hall.

Mana surged into the roof right above him as it cracked, blue flames spreading downward before sending the heated rubble toward the People’s Mind. Reactively, he defended with another wave of blue flames aimed above him, succeeding in dispersing the debris. The King fell through unharmed with his flaming broadsword pointed down to pierce Keskivaara. On unsteady feet, he slid to a stop and Protoed back out of reach of the King, the blade that would have impaled him instead stabbing into the floor and sending up a swirling explosion.

Keskivaara decided to take a chance and leaped into the hole Markreas had come from once the flames began to disperse, hoping that his rock armor and shield of wind would protect him enough that any damage could be swiftly healed. Suddenly, his momentum was halted as ropes of wind wrapped around his ankle and he was yanked down, slamming into the ground. The defenses he had already erected protected him, but the King’s broadsword was still raised high to take his head. As Keskivaara rolled to his left, the blade cleaved into the ground where he had been, the missed attack hardly slowing Markreas. Keskivaara was barely on his feet when his opponent released his left hand’s grip and slammed a fist into his stomach, the subsequent burst of wind throwing him through the weakened wall in a shower of dust and debris.

Soaring further than he would have thought, Keskivaara pushed off the ground and stood, gaping at Markreas. He peripherally noted that the room they now stood in was Ankalla’s ballroom—a place that might have been intended for parties before Tali took over and was now the place where all of the castle’s food and alcohol was stored. It had once been kept in the basement, but Leiolai had requested its removal for reasons Keskivaara had never inquired about, and now all he could do was curse the changeling for that.

The last thing I needed was a room of full alcohol when I’m fighting this!

However, the ballroom had a high ceiling and was perhaps a hundred yards wide, meaning that Keskivaara once again had more room to maneuver than he did back in the cramped hallways—something he took immediate advantage of.

The Proto he sent through his legs created a spiderweb crack through the marble floor below him, his body now sent into the air just as Markreas launched another wave of fires raging across the floor in a curved, outwards arc that engulfed much of the ground, a dull glowing red left in its wake as the marble began to melt. Keskivaara clenched his teeth, noting that his opponent’s sword, now glowing white with light magic, also had the fires surging around its edges, creating a weapon of mass destruction that he couldn’t help fearing would have long since brought this fortress crumbling to the ground had Markreas’s allies not been fighting within it.

The King bent his legs and turned the point of his sword towards the ground on his right before bringing it up aggressively to slice at the air in front of him. He was obviously not swinging at nothing, for in the arc the sword took, a wave of fires surged outwards towards Keskivaara like a curved projectile, forcing him to jut out his hand, cast Corsikei, and use the shockwave it created to adjust his trajectory midair so he could avoid the attack. He cast Custou, a hard layer or rock armor spreading over his hands and lower arms, though he made sure to leave the tip of his ring finger exposed so that he could still make physical contact with the King should the unlikely opportunity arise. He refrained from doing the same with his feet, wanting to keep his lower body as mobile as he could so that wind magic remained strongly at his disposal.

Spinning so that the soles of his feet could press against the back wall of the ballroom, Keskivaara let loose another powerful Proto that sent him right back in the King’s direction, for as much as he was terrified of getting within reach of that sword, he also knew that there was no other means of using the Teritus without direct contact. Crossing the room as fast as possible, Keskivaara charged Markreas, whose sword flashed outwards so quickly that the People’s Mind was forced to dart so hard to the right that Markreas went back out of his range.

He considered tapping back into his own blue fire, but with Markreas’s far superior control, he feared creating a weapon that the King could usurp control of.

He tried relying on the speed of wind magic, but light was always faster, so no matter how many charges Keskivaara made, he could not get in close so long as that sword remained in the state it was.

He pondered using offensive rock magic, but with Markreas having severely heated the ground, trying to make contact with the earth for longer than a second would burn him dangerously.

Offensive nature magic suffered a similar issue, though it was also far too flammable to combat blue fire.

Water magic was only really offensive when in an icy form, but that would be utterly useless in this situation.

Damn it all! he thought furiously as the shadows in the corner of the room exploded outwards to try and knock him out of the air, but since dark magic could be combated by fire, Keskivaara cast Infernus, reached another wall, then Protoed just as three more waves of blue fire were launched by the broadsword. This is ridiculous! I have nothing! None of the five magics will work against him—not while he’s as powerful as this! Keskivaara screamed out his frustration in the privacy of his mind, his eyes always watching the still form of Markreas as he attacked from his position down on the ground. He hasn’t moved since cornering me here… Is he toying with me? Is he making a mockery of me as revenge for betraying the Empire? And if so… If I can’t so much as graze him while he’s not going all out, then there’s nothing to be done! I’m powerless… Me! The so-called powerhouse that could rival the Iijis!

His mind flashed to Velanor, who was somewhere in that fortress helping the noncombatants to flee through the underground. He was the only person Keskivaara had left, and a part of him wondered if he’d have simply conceded to Markreas had Velanor not been around.

“Is this the best you have for me, People’s Mind?!” Markreas suddenly snarled from below, his monstrous visage glowing blue in the light of his magic. He spat Keskivaara’s nickname as if it were a joke, something to be ridiculed, and it gave weight to the assumption that Markreas had decided to hold back for his own amusement. “I was told so many tales about how you were the Kosah-Rei’s counter to me, yet this is all you can do?! You’re a disappointment!”

A flicker of rage sparked in his chest, for Markreas Iiji’s arrogance had hit a nerve with him. There was one card left to play, one that he had never wanted to play until it became absolutely necessary. His actions in Stellareid had left him with such guilt that he always believed he’d accept his death long before he would accept revealing that particular power, but suddenly, he wondered if this was the time to do it.

If I tapped into my master’s gift, I could probably get to him, but if I failed… He grimaced internally, recalling the warning he’d been given what felt like daily about the desperate importance of secrecy. If Keskivaara used that power and couldn’t beat Markreas, then he would only be exposing something that was not meant to be exposed. That being said, the collapse of the Iijis was what my master wanted more than anything! So wouldn’t this be worth the risk? My success would mean the death of King Markreas…

“You were a member of the elite class, were you not?” his master had once inquired of him. “Therefore, you should have some understanding of how they think—how they look down on anybody not within their inner circles. The Iijis are pompous scum. They are mages who think they are superior because they inherited a genetic strength that few others in this realm can boast of. They didn’t earn their abilities. They didn’t earn respect. So why should they be allowed to glare down upon us? They are vile, Rickori, and that is why they will not win in the end. Evil is always vanquished, after all…”

He recalled being strongly opposed to his master’s more aggressive approach to helping the people of Ijiria, having argued quite often that he could bring things down peacefully—that if he managed to have a genuine conversation with people like Eganno Cartigan and Markreas Iiji, then they could figure something out. As his master said, Keskivaara had been one of the elites and had lived among them. They might be somewhat self-involved, but at their cores, he believed they were reasonable, good people. When he expressed as much, his master just laughed as if he were talking to a foolish child.

“Our bargain only states that you must bring equality and fairness to Ijiria and does not specify how. But then I must ask, why accept my power if you do not intend to wield it?”

Keskivaara vividly remembered the response he had given, and to this day, he still swore by it. “Because the elite respect power, so if I can come to the table as their magical equals—no, their magical superiors…then they will treat me the way I need them to. And, with strength like this, I can protect those who do not have it! I can use my strength to make sure nobody has to die!”

Ha! He scoffed at himself and at the memory. If my master is still alive out there, I wonder what he thinks about my decisions in Stellareid. I used my power to fight on the side of the massacre, and while I still believe in my words, they feel hollow now…but…

As he continued to dodge and weave around Markreas’s magic, he briefly looked at the horrific excitement the King felt at the prospect of killing him. I was certainly wrong that Markreas and Cartigan would ever discuss anything with me. They were selfish madmen, just as my master said they were. That’s why I aligned with Vesh and Firrik… That’s why I’m fighting Markreas right now… I exerted every possible peaceful avenue and came up with nothing… Violence was all I had left…and as I turned to violence, suddenly, my master’s gifts became even more crucial to upholding my end of the deal than I ever wanted them to be. They were nothing more than a fallback, but I suppose I have fallen…

“The day will come when you will need to fight… Just remember that… You cannot escape it forever… So when the time comes, wield my gifts and strike your enemies down…”

Keskivaara reluctantly came to the decision that this was the time—that risking the exposure of his master’s gift was the only way he had a chance of using the Teritus to take Markreas down.

Turning his palms toward one another, Keskivaara swiftly filled the space between them with as much water as he could before hurling it down towards Markreas’s feet. He saw the King tense, followed by the amused expression as he realized it was just a casting of Aquatani. Markreas underestimated him, for the second that water landed, it evaporated against the heated marble around the room. Scalding steam erupted around the King, momentarily blinding him and allowing Keskivaara to land on a cooler part of the floor away from where Markreas had been burning it. The People's Mind then propelled himself through the back wall, protecting his body from the rubble with shields of wind as he burst out of the ballroom and found himself outside, in the small inner courtyard up in the northeastern part of Ankalla’s property. It wasn’t an ideal setting, but it would simply have to do.

Keskivaara could hear Markreas shouting behind him, and he could sense the eruption of more mana, so the People’s Mind immediately took to running towards the large stone fountain in the center of the two dozen yard wide lawn surrounding it. The fountain itself was rather grand, its pool around the size of a large bathtub, mainly due to the fact that this area was near the ballroom’s front doors and would be meant as an outer space for any guests that wanted to remove themselves from the stuffy crowded interior of the typical noble party.

It’s perfect this way though!

Infusing the fountain water with his magic, Keskivaara compressed it all into a ball about the size of his upper body, then began to increase its amount by casting Aquatani like he did inside. He poured in as much as he could before hearing Markreas emerge through the hole that Keskivaara had previously made. Panicking, knowing how important it would be to defend himself, the People’s Mind spun around and scattered the water across the stretch of lawn between him and the King. There was so much water, in fact, that it would take a few minutes for the dirt to finish absorbing it, creating a thick puddle that caused Markreas to hesitate the second he stepped into it.

Naturally, the King wasn’t going to be afraid of such a harmless sight, but he would know Keskivaara was clever and that he wouldn’t have wasted such precious time flooding the lawn for no reason. His blue eyes narrowed, his instincts certainly on alert as he scanned the large puddle.

But it was this momentary caution King Markreas displayed that was his undoing.

Electra.

Keskivaara spoke the incantation in his mind, tapping into the class of mana that his master had once infused into his body. It was a magic that shouldn’t have existed, that there were no records of, and that even a monster like Markreas wouldn’t have known to protect against. Blue lighting sparked around Keskivaara’s outstretched palm before flashing across the small distance to strike the water. In the blink of an eye, the entire lawn lit up with blue as the electricity was conducted throughout it. With Markreas’s foot submerged and his attention diverted for a mere split second, he didn’t react before he was electrocuted, his body violently convulsing as he screamed out in pain.

Keskivaara blasted off the ground, scattering mud and grass behind his foot, as he soared over the puddle of lightning, reached Markreas’s contorted features, and jammed his right hand straight into the King’s forehead. That was all it took for the magic of the Teritus to flare into Markreas’s body, fusing with the fire magic within him and, if the ring was activated, inevitably ripping him apart from the inside.

But if it were that easy, Keskivaara wouldn’t have needed to resort to such tricks in the first place.

The People's Mind had been prepared for the spark of lighting that jolted through him once his skin touched Markreas’s, but he had not been ready for the repulsion of blue fire that erupted from the King just a second after he made contact. Even as he was rattled by a power he would not have recognized, Markreas either consciously or subconsciously moved to defend himself and cast Repusla.

Back in Stellareid, Keskivaara had taken Ilirianna’s blue fire and survived, so the repulsion did not kill him. However, he had been prone and in agonizing pain in the aftermath, forcing Vesh to defend him from Ryokumo while he sent nature magic through his wounds. In addition, he had at least managed to cast Nex the last time, so when Keskivaara’s burnt body struck the muddy lawn an unknown distance away, he was already desperately casting Benedio while fighting to remain conscious, utter pain wracking every inch of his body.

I need to activate the Teritus! I need to execute him! If I can do that—

He forced his eyes to open as he lifted his right hand, only for his heart to sink when he found himself staring at a blackned stump, everything from below his mid-forearm gone, most likely turned to ash in the initial explosion.

No… But where’s…the Teritus? Is it gone? Did Markreas destroy it? No! If he did, then…

It was over.

Whether the Teritus had been destroyed or it was laying abandoned in the mud, Keskivaara did not have control of it and could not kill Markreas. He was going to die. There was no way he would be spared now, and he would have revealed the existence of lightning magic to King Markreas, one of the last people who should have ever known it existed.

Master… Wherever you are, I’m sorry. I took a risk and it didn’t pay off…

Yet, just in case, Keskivaara continued to heal his body on the off chance Markreas took too long to reach him. He could feel the charred skin and muscle returning normal while the hair on his head began to regrow and his stump sealed shut with new skin. His clothes were mostly gone, though, and he could now feel the chill breeze on his bare chest.

Is he not coming? If I can get back up… Even if it uses most of my mana to put myself back together, if I can at least run away—

His hopes were dashed when he forced his eyes open and saw the looming shadow of King Markreas standing over him, his sword of light directed at Keskviaara’s heart. The People’s Mind swallowed his terror, his acceptance of death returning in its place.

Of course Markreas was going to get up.

Of course he wasn’t going to be spared.

Yet, oddly enough, instead of killing him, Markreas spoke.

“What the hell did you just do to me?”

Ah, I see… I’ve startled him. I used a magic he’s never heard of and he doesn't like that. It’s too bad, though, that I’m sworn to secrecy…

“Go fuck yourself,” Keskivaara spat, wanting to at least end his life with some of his pride in tact. “You vile bastard…”

He was not going to beg for Markreas’s mercy as that was not who Rickori Keskivaara was. That was why he forced his still healing features to contort with hatred so that he could face the King right up until his last breath.

Markreas suddenly looked conflicted, but before Keskivaara could even begin to wonder why, everything went black.

***

Standing above the unconscious form of Rickori Keskivaara, Markreas slowly raised the foot he jammed into the man’s head and let out a trembling breath. He was infuriated beyond anything he had ever felt in his life. There had been no question that he was going to kill Keskivaara no matter what happened that day. This man in particular was someone Markreas utterly loathed, so if somebody had told him, even that morning, that he would spare the People’s Mind at the conclusion of their duel, then he would have laughed in their face. Yet there he was, his sword returned to its sheath and his magic no longer drawn as he slowly turned his head and gazed at the spot on the lawn that was now nothing but dirt, the grass burned away and the water evaporated.

That magic… What the hell was it? Liri never made mention of it, and Keskivaara didn’t pull it out until he was left with no other choice. It was a secret—one that he clearly wanted to keep at all costs. But why? Where did he learn it? And how have I never heard of it? In all the many books I’ve read in my life, even among ones that are meant for Iiji eyes only, I’ve never heard tell of an electric spell? He didn’t even speak the incantation, so I won’t be able to look it up by name… So… If I want to know what he did, then…

Markreas spat on the man’s head, then clicked his tongue with disgust.

We’ll have to beat it out of him…