The instant Erethel’s arm dropped, I deployed a smokescreen. I could see through it just fine, as such a need comes with the territory when one aims to be a fire-breathing dragon. I’m sure some worker bees managing the barriers around the arena were busying themselves with implementing some solution so the audience could see too, but that was not my problem. I raised stone walls from the earth seemingly randomly on my side, and covered the area in all manner of magical traps, both remote and proximity triggered. I made sure to place them about a finger width below the sand so as to reduce any chances Blythnin would be able to see them if she had some Ability to that effect.
At the same time, I layered active Skills upon myself. I aimed to be faster, stronger, tougher, and quicker-witted than normal, and my Blessing came through to that effect. The air fairly crackled with pent-up arcane fury screaming for release as my body became an avatar of destruction hellbent on victory. Surely my opponent would be clad in a similar fashion by such layers of protection, so our clash would be the stuff of legends.
Blythnin apparently had a similar desire for privacy, for she had erected a fence between us, one made of stone brick and thrice as tall as a man. Perhaps I misunderstood her Blessing as some manner of [Fencer], but I suspected that she would soon get the point across as to its true nature via the business end of her rapier. My senses, both ordinary and supernatural, could not pierce the veil, so to speak, so I knew not what she had in store for me, but I suspected a vicious alpha strike would be her favored gambit.
The barrier between us snapped out of existence in an instant, and while my smokescreen wafted towards her wall, nothing noteworthy occurred for a few moments. Then, with a great rumbling and a grinding of stone upon stone, I witnessed holes appear within the wall as small sections rotated a quarter way around, and from those sally ports charge an army of Blythnins. I did not sense heat from them, nor did they give off any scent, but I knew not how substantial they were in the material sense nor if the bite of their swords would be real or merely the fabrications of illusions.
The clones quickly overran my outer defenses, and dozens of traps triggered automatically. From that, I at least knew they had some manner of substance, for they had to exert some degree of pressure to trigger those traps. I quickly worked to reprogram as many traps as I could to require a degree of thermal energy in addition to mass, but I left a few of lesser importance alone so as to be a hopefully convincing ruse that my plans would be foiled by her wily ways.
In short order, I found myself besieged on all fronts, for hundreds of her clones had poured in from all directions, pressing me hard. Taking the defensive, I elected to test their capabilities. I let the first one to reach me graze me with her rapier, and while my skin was hard enough to withstand normal blades with ease, it still sliced through me, albeit with difficulty, as the cut was shallow. At the same time, I ran her through with my spear, and her body impaled there felt vastly lighter than I would have expected. She coughed up blood through the vents in her helmet, and then a moment later she disappeared in a puff of smoke and ash.
Armed with this newfound knowledge paid for in blood, I created choke points with new walls of earth I hastily constructed. I let a horde of them rush me, and at the last moment, I let loose a torrent of air to blast them backwards. Being so light, perhaps less than one tenth of normal, they crashed into a heap against a far wall, which I then toppled down upon them by virtue of my magic still lingering within and heeding my will. Crushed beneath the weight, most vanished much as the first one had, but the remainder rallied fearlessly and charged in once more. I destroyed them with a burst of high pressure water, but not favoring remaining in one place for long, I repositioned further back to my side of the arena. A most auspicious move on my part, for I had not gotten three paces before the wall next to where I was standing exploded inwards with disastrous effect on the next wave of clones. The real Blythnin had taken the field.
I had the option in my Blessing of taking clones, and while I admit they are useful, their entry cost was steep. Something does not come from nothing, so any Skills they use would drain one’s mana, and unless one went all-in on such Skills, that could very quickly lead to complete exhaustion. Blythnin’s onslaught educated me as to the viability of their use to overwhelm and waste resources for the opponent, and I imagine she was certainly getting the better end of the deal for efficiency.
The real Blythnin wasted no time in charging me, and in one beat of my heart, she had crossed the distance between us and slammed into me. At least, it felt like a slam, for dozens of hits landed upon my shield within the same span of time as it took her to charge. Even with all my Skills brought to bear, it felt as though she were swinging a sledgehammer, not thrusting with a rapier. I could do little more than endure as her assault pushed me back and taxed the limits of my shield arm.
The present situation untenable, and the probability of being flanked too great to ignore, I hopped backwards. I expected her pursuit, but she simply faded into the crowd as more clones rushed in to replace her. They felt the full measure of the trap I had activated but a moment earlier, and cursing inwardly at Blythnin’s intuition, I recalculated my plan of attack now that a high-value trap had been expended in vain. I opted for conservative attacks, using minimal force to deal with the clones, but I wondered if I would survive such half-measures if the real Blythnin decided to mix in with a future wave.
As I cut a dozen down, two dozen more appeared to take their place. The fight had been all of two minutes so far, and by my estimates, nearly two hundred clones had been destroyed. Such numbers were impressive, perhaps too much so. I suspected some trick to it, for none were mere illusions as far as I could tell. No one could sustain this many of them without bankrupting mana reserves, and so I knew I had to venture to her side of the arena to unveil the mystery. If something over there was producing these clones at little cost, then I would need to destroy it to win, and if no such thing existed, then I was never going to win in the first place.
All I had done so far was react, but Blythnin gave me no quarter during which I could do otherwise, for she appeared from behind for another charge at me, not but ten seconds after her first charge. This time I stepped in and sideways to her thrust, letting the flurry slide off my shield. I could not see her expression because of her full helmet, but she appeared surprised by such audacity. She easily avoided my spear thrust, which, when compared to her own thrusts, was laughably slow. She feigned another burst of thrusts, and I fell for it, and with my timing and positioning off, I was rewarded with a few new holes in my shield arm as she harried me. I quickly recovered and used my healing magic to regenerate, but such one-sided trades would be the end of me.
More clones rushed me from the back as others rained down upon my position from overtop the walls. However, even while she stabbed me, I had been repositioning traps, sliding them beneath the sand to heed my call for aid. Either she would press her advantage and stay nearby, or she would retreat, and I prepared myself for both outcomes. Time felt like it stretched tenfold, for my senses and mental processing were so acute, but there were perhaps two or three seconds before her clones would be upon me. The timing would be critical if I were to gain an advantage.
Fortunately, so emboldened by her recent success, she stayed for another assault. I feared this would be the last such battery of thrusts my shield would endure, for I could see terrible dents on my side of it. With perfect execution, she crashed into me once more as her clones were initiating their own strikes. I could not block them all, but I did not need to. In the second that it took her to land dozens of blows upon my shield, I unleashed the trap I had placed beneath us, with myself within a dead zone. Acid surged up from the earth, exploding up over the walls and touching everything around me in its corrosive embrace. The real Blythnin weathered it, if barely, for I could see cracks in the shimmering energy that surrounded her like a second skin. The acid chewed away at her exposed armor, and as quickly as she had assaulted me, she retreated up and away from the cesspool of acidity I had unleashed upon my little labyrinth of death.
She had erred, for in attacking me from behind, she no longer stood between me and her side of the arena. With her body in the air from her jump away from me, she would not be able to reposition or change her direction until she landed, and it was during that briefest of moments that I made haste to her side of the arena. Now was not the time to be covetous, and so with generous abandon of my previous tactics, I spared no expense in my application of magic as I rushed headlong into the unknown. Scores of clones fell in my wake as I prepared a strong blast of wind to propel me through the air to her side. I gambled that I could get there faster than she could.
It proved to be a foolish wager, for with blinding speed, I found her on a collision course as we both soared through the air. I tore apart reality at the seams, and in doing so violated Euclidean space as I brought forth my pocket dimension. I rained down the content of weapons and armor stored within, and she would either have to weather the storm to attack me or take defensive action. In that same effort, I threw my tower shield at her as I grabbed a new one, which I had intended to do all along, just not in this way. Blythnin spun in a flurry, and like a whirling dervish, her blade swatted aside my assault. However, she still slowed, for her deflections robbed her of her forward momentum, and thus I squeezed out a small moment of reprieve as I secured a precious advantage in our race to her side of the arena.
As I cleared the vault over her wall, I saw a vastly changed terrain on her side. She had not made a fence between us, but an entire square of a fortification, complete with stone brick floor and walls. In the middle stood a whole host of clones surrounding a gold and glowing orb, about as big around as a man, that floated off the ground. I detected no other objects of note, so with a fair degree of certainty, I deduced this to be the source of the clones. The new clones appearing around the orb every few seconds added damning evidence to support that theory, and so I prepared a means for its destruction.
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A powerful barrier surrounded the orb, but some of the clones nearby kneeled before it almost as if in reverence, their own bodies glowing golden as well. I suspected they would need to be eliminated before I could destroy the orb. The normal clones, hundreds of them, rushed forward to meet me as I touched down in the fortress. With pulsing gusts of wind, I repelled them, but their intervention slowed me enough that the real Blythnin was but a moment away. She flanked me on my right side, and with my body being too slow to turn with such a heavy shield, I was forced to drop it to properly twist my body to meet her attack. I still had the buckler strapped onto my shield arm, and it managed to block a few hits, but pain coursed through me and gave fair notice that it proved to be an inferior defensive option.
A resurgence of healing magic flooded through me once again, but despite such taxation on my concentration, I still managed to retaliate with a well-placed spear strike. She also was moving too fast, and, unable to dodge, my spear struck true. Well, almost true, for just before it found purchase, her body became golden and much lighter. My heightened senses showed the real Blythnin to be where one of her golden clones had been, and so another trick up her sleeve had been used to swap places with it. Now between me and the orb, she rushed to meet me once again.
This time, I aimed a well-timed and placed swing with my buckler, swatting her weapon away from me as she lunged. To her credit, her grip held fast, but being so exposed, I thrust forward with my spear, only to have another golden clone take the hit. She wasted no time in advancing once more, this time leading with a feint. However, I had become accustomed to her tactics, and so I unleashed a pillar of earth from the ground beneath me, sending me up into the air, with my forward momentum carrying me so that I would be directly over the orb during the apex of my vault.
I called forth the essence of shadow to shroud me, and encased in a sphere of its inky blackness, I took a risk of exposing my true nature to anyone capable of seeing through such an Ability. I manifested my dragon form, not in body, but in the essence of spirit. Ethereal, translucent, temporal, a visage of my true form took shape inside the privacy of my sphere, and I let loose the most powerful torrent of fire my breath could bring to bear aimed straight down. Clones cried out in terror and were suddenly silenced as flame that could melt stone cleansed the arena of the clones, golden or otherwise. The orb could not withstand such a disturbance, and so unguarded by its golden attendants, it cracked and shattered from the withering heat.
I let go of my control of the sphere of shadow around me as I landed on the ground. No more clones remained, but a rather crispy looking Blythnin stood across from me relative to where the orb had been. Her protective shield no more, her armor covered in black soot, she stood not ready to strike, but in a stance open to attack. I almost fell backwards, and bracing myself, I discovered the full meaning to her actions as power radiated out of her in pulsing waves, each one stronger than the last as they crashed into me. I solidified my stance, sliding backwards as it pushed me away while I braced for what was to come.
I put my spear and buckler into my pocket dimension while unsheathing my dirks, while simultaneously diverting everything I could into enhancing my speed and perception. The power radiating from her ceased, but where before I saw a monster, I now saw a nightmare. She stood over thirty paces away, but in the blink of an eye, she had dashed to me. I somehow managed to deflect her thrust, but the force of it sent me spinning sideways and away from her. As I tried to recover and right my fall, she appeared from behind and above me with a downward thrust to impale me. I released the most powerful burst of air I could to push me off course, and though I avoided her blade, the force of it still somehow rent a large gash into my back as it also shattered the floor of her fortress.
While my body sailed across the arena, I set my healing magics to work to repair the terrible damage she had inflicted upon me. As I crashed into the ground and rolled into the wall of her fortress, smashing through it, I placed a trap between us, activating it instantly in case she was already on her way to me. Tendrils of shadow erupted from the earth, flailing around to grasp anything within reach. Fortune smiled upon me, for Blythnin found herself grappled by such umbral machinations. Sadly, that smile turned into a frown, for Blythnin ripped herself free in short order. However, that did afford me the opportunity to right myself and finish healing.
My mana reserves, though far beyond the means of normal people, were dangerously low. My superhuman stamina found its limit, for I had pushed my body to extremes beyond what generous gifts my Blessing could afford. But, I sensed Blythnin was not faring so well either. Her breathing was as ragged as mine, and the power I sensed within her flickered down with increasing regularity and intensity. She would need to end things soon, but I feared her next onslaught would overwhelm me. This would be her all-or-nothing attack.
Upon finding myself flung through the wall of her fortress and onto my side of the arena, I retreated into my maze of traps, pulling every one of them to move around me as I cleared out an open area in the middle. The walls of earth had proven to be a great defense, but now they impeded my sight of her, and I feared they would be little better than paper at actually stopping her, so I removed those walls. I would let her come at me and take one final gamble with my life and victory as the wager.
Blythnin appeared within short order, but she did not dash in. Instead she strode calmly and confidently, her gait unyielding and uncompromising in its intent, although I detected a hint of trembling in her form, her body paying the debt owed to her profound application of raw power. As traps triggered, she moved faster than my eyes could track, my body just barely quick enough to move out of the way. I would say I feigned panic at that moment, and while I certainly felt a great degree of distress, I had not fallen into total despair. I preyed upon her ego, that hubris would convince her that my played-up recklessness was genuine desperation. I threw everything I had at her, well, almost everything, and she dodged all such attempts to fell her, if barely, for her power fluctuations were becoming highly erratic.
She stood now not but four paces away, and in that small moment as we looked at one another, I sensed the storm within that suit of armor. Rage at my vexatious and underhanded tactics, pain from the toll levied upon her body, excitement from the crowd cheering her on to finish me, and ecstasy from this dance with death where either one of us could lose with one mistake, all boiled and churned within the confines of her armor, now sullied and battered. She lunged, and I did nothing to avoid it. Her blade sunk deep, up to the hilt, into my gut, just left of center.
“Looks like I win,” she gasped out between ragged breaths as we stood there, both rather exhausted.
“Looks like you didn’t pay attention during the briefing,” I countered as I grasped her sword arm in my left hand while I dropped the dirk that I held within it.
She struggled to free herself, but to no avail. I have experienced many painful things in my life, but this next maneuver stands out even after all this time. I used the pommel in the dirk in my right hand to smash into the inside of her elbow, forcing her arm to bend as I rushed in. Taken by surprise, she failed to react in time as I hooked a foot behind her and toppled her over, landing on top of her. With all my power, I brought my dirk down towards her left eye where her helmet afforded no protection. Just before my blade found purchase, I stopped its advance.
“Dead to rights at the head or neck,” I said to her before coughing blood up, the essence of it spraying onto her and oozing down my chin. I had her pinned, her sword arm grasped in my left hand, my body straddling her chest while my right leg restrained her left arm. The whole maneuver had shredded my guts terribly, and I wondered if I had enough mana left within me to repair that damage or at least stabilize myself enough for medical personnel to rush to my aid.
“Victory to the [Dragoon], defeat to the [Chevalier],” cried Erethel as she called the match in my favor. “The champion has seen her winning spree come to an end. Well done, both of you.” I heard her voice as if she were right in front of me, even though she certainly was not. Even though the crowd cheered to a volume threatening to deafen me, those sweet words sang clear in my heart as the fight was finally over.
With difficulty and a great deal of willpower, I forced myself to stand, letting Blythnin’s blade slide free of my body as I rose up. Blood spilled forth unhindered, and I concentrated the last of my healing energies to stabilize myself as I hovered on the border of consciousness. Medical staff caught me before I toppled over, their words sounding muffled and distant as blackness loomed at the corners of my vision, threatening to devour me should I surrender to its invitation. I breathed, and I focused on just staying alive while vials of bittersweet liquid were shoved to my lips and healing hands were placed all over my body. I know not how long they busied themselves with their work, for my perception of the world all but faded for a while until they brought me back. I felt physically well again, and I guessed it had been a few minutes at most, but certainly my spry and rejuvenated body was a testament to their skill.
Blythnin stood next to me, helmet under her left arm, and before me stood Erethel. Blythnin looked a little dazed herself, but she snapped back to reality much in the same way I imagine I did within a few seconds. The medical staff, their task complete, scurried away as other personnel finished up the final touches on their restoration of the arena. Were it not for the blood on my clothes, one would think no fighting at all had taken place here, much less one that nearly tore the arena asunder.
“Well done, both of you!” exclaimed Erethel in praise as she placed a hand on each of our shoulders. “This was intended to be an exhibition match, but it looked like the two of you were fighting to the death,” she continued with a slight look of disapproval on her face.
“I don’t think she would respect me if I gave her anything less, nor would victory have been even remotely possible,” I said in genuine respect as I turned my head towards Blythnin.
“I admit, I tried my best and lost. There may yet be other arenas where I can best you, if not in combat,” she said with a shocking degree of warmness, her smug and rude attitude seemingly gone. “I hope to find out soon enough.” She winked at me to punctuate that comment, but I could only guess as to the implications. Perhaps there were strange traditions after such a fight that I would soon be made aware of where we would have the opportunity to compete. My imagination turned to some sort of pub crawl or games of skill while inebriated for what she implied.
Erethel looked at us both with a sly and knowing smile growing on her face before it wilted entirely, replaced by a demeanor of alert shock. Faint at first, but as the crowd slowly quieted, I heard bells ringing in the distance. Their deep notes and distant sound meant only one thing, that these were the warning bells for the city itself. Danger was imminent to the city.