"Are you sure this is what you want?" Jean felt the need to ask. She didn't necessarily think Merida had lost her mind or even betrayed the revolution. Instead, given the few interactions she had with the woman, she thought she was taking advantage of the night's chaos to get a good fight.
It sounded crazy, but that was the kind of woman the Giantslayer was.
"Let there never be any doubt that I will shirk the battlefield. Your men took up arms in my guild to arrest my people." The woman explained, though her grin was so excited that Jean doubted she was trying to convince her—it was just the barest hint of an excuse.
Still, Jean wasn't about to run away, especially since she could see several of her men faltering against the adventurers' assault now that most of the city watch had been taken out of the picture.
Given that they were only a small detachment and mostly made up of fresh recruits, they could be forgiven for their poor performance when faced with veteran fighters, especially since they hadn't been given any notice that this operation would happen to prevent leaks.
"Very well, but I'll set up protections. I don't care if a few benches get damaged, but a fight between us could level this neighborhood." This was as much a condition as a test to see how Merida would react.
“I have no problem with that. I trust you'll be honorable and not prepare spells in advance," the woman replied casually, again confirming that she hadn't suddenly switched sides. Or rather, she had never joined one side over the other and had simply reached the end of her patience. She wouldn't be denied a fight with a revolutionary council member any longer.
Jean descended into the heart of the plaza where the brawl was still raging. The sounds of clashing steel and the shouts of bleeding men overwhelmed any single voice, but with a wave of her hand, she silenced it all. A pulse of magic rippled outward, sending the combatants from both sides tumbling back like ragdolls, scattering them to the edges of the square. Before anyone could rise to their feet, the pavement beneath them seemed to liquefy, and tendrils of smooth stone flowed over their limbs, locking them in place.
Gasps of shock and confusion rippled through the crowd, but Jean's voice cut through it all, cold and clear. "Enough."
She let her gaze sweep over the immobilized fighters, her presence commanding the silence. "This fight is between the Guildmistress and me now. The rest of you will remain as spectators." She let that hang in the air for a beat, then added, "The stakes are simple. Whoever wins will dictate the terms to the loser. Agreed?"
From atop the building, Merida's grin widened, and a feral gleam entered her eyes. With a single, effortless leap, she landed in the center of the plaza, her heavy boots cracking the stone. "Agreed," she rumbled, radiating excitement.
The old witch might not like this, but there wasn’t another possible solution. I could have overwhelmed Merida before she could react, but that would have led to resentment down the line. Eliminating her outright would put the remaining adventurers against us, which is contrary to Leonard’s directions. She will have to pay a price for this rebellion, but it’s better than the alternatives.
Jean nodded, satisfied. Without another word, she raised her hands and wove a shimmering, silvery shield around the plaza's edges, arching high above them. It hummed with raw mana, solid enough to withstand several point-blank cannon blasts but flexible enough to absorb their aura. It glittered in the moonlight like the surface of a calm lake.
None of those present recognized the Imprimis Shield, a spell that only Champions could cast, owing to the immense control requirements.
The two women squared off, the tension thick enough to choke on. Jean's expression was serene and calm, while Merida's eyes gleamed fiercely. The Guildmistress cracked her knuckles, and with a low, guttural incantation, a massive buster sword materialized in her hands. The blade was nearly as tall as she was, carved with runes that flickered like lightning across its surface.
Without wasting another moment, Merida lunged, closing the distance between them in the blink of an eye. Her massive blade swung through the air with a speed that seemed impossible for its size, aimed straight to cut Jean in two. Merida was likely counting on taking Jean down before she could set up her defenses, a classic tactic for dealing with pure mages. Allowing a caster to prepare was the worst possible mistake, especially one of her level.
But Jean wasn't there in the first place.
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The blade passed through nothing but air, and in the next instant, Merida's target dissolved into a burst of iridescent butterflies, scattering in all directions. Jean reappeared on the far side of the plaza, her form shimmering back into existence, perfectly composed.
Merida skidded to a halt, her boots grinding against the stone as she turned to face Jean. There was no anger in her expression, only raw exhilaration.
Jean raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure this is what you want?" she asked one last time, if only to assuage herself that she wasn't bullying a weaker being—today had already seen enough bloodshed, as far as she was concerned. She now understood Merida well enough to know that the woman wasn't here out of treachery.
"I've never been more sure," Merida growled, her grin widening. "Your soldiers stepped into my guild to arrest my men. But really, I just wanted to see if you were as good as they say."
Jean sighed lightly, though a faint smile tugged at her lips. "Very well," she said, her voice almost indulgent. "But don't say I didn't warn you."
With that, Jean made her move. She didn't summon anything grand or overwhelming—not yet. Instead, she unleashed a dizzying array of low-tier spells designed to disrupt and confound rather than devastate. Flashes of fire, water, and lightning rained down on Merida in rapid succession, forming a chaotic storm around the Guildmistress.
The woman's grin didn't falter as her buster sword spun and slashed through the air with perfect precision. Each time a spell came near, she either deflected it or allowed it to glance off her with a casual ease that belied her immense skill. More impressive, however, was how her body seemed to glow faintly with each deflected spell. Jean narrowed her eyes—Merida wasn't just enduring the spells; she was absorbing some of the mana, siphoning the energy into her own reserves with a deftness that made it hard to notice.
Interesting. She has clearly trained in some obscure martial art that allows her to use mana to fuel her buffs. That's a dangerous ability for anyone to have, much more so in her hands. After this is over, I'll have to get her to explain its principles. She'll have a lot of free time in jail anyway. I might even lighten her sentence if she's cooperative.
Still, the barrage of spells had served its purpose. Jean only needed time, and Merida had given it to her.
The ground beneath their feet began to tremble, the stone shifting and rumbling as if alive. The Guildmistress glanced down, her grin faltering for the first time as the earth rose up. Stone and dirt twisted and coiled, rising higher and higher until a massive golem stood towering above her. Its eyes glowed a fiery orange, and with a thunderous roar, it charged forward, shaking the plaza like a small earthquake.
Merida let out a bark of laughter, her excitement not dampened before the new challenge. She met the golem head-on, buster sword swinging in a wide arc that crashed against the stony body with a deafening clang. To her apparent surprise, the golem didn't even chip. Its stone surface absorbed the blow, and it retaliated with a massive swing of its own, its fist crashing down toward her.
Merida dodged easily and raised her sword to deflect another vicious strike, creating an opening she immediately took advantage of. But no matter how many times her blade connected, the golem simply reformed, its wounds closing as if they had never been there.
"I like this thing!" Merida shouted over the clash, her voice wild with exhilaration. Her entire body began to glow an angry red as the mana she had absorbed earlier flared to life. With a roar of her own, she drove forward, her strength magnified tenfold. The next strike of her buster sword was powerful enough to drive the golem back, its feet skidding across the stone.
Jean watched, quietly amused, as Merida hacked at the golem with growing intensity. The Guildmistress was a force of nature, with even more tricks than her profile suggested.
Merida's blade began to glow with searing heat, the runes on her sword flickering and shifting until the weapon was wreathed in flames. With a final, mighty swing, she cleaved through the golem's left arm, the stone melting away from the intense heat.
That finally seemed to do the trick. The golem roared in mock pain—Jean was nothing if not a good actress— and stepped back. As expected, the feral woman followed, never one to allow the momentum to slip by.
While Merida was focused on overpowering the golem, Jean's mind had been elsewhere, twisting and weaving the principles of elven magic she had observed earlier in the night. The spell she was crafting bore only a bare resemblance to its original form—it was a creation of her own design, of which she was quite proud, especially with how little time she had to work on it.
Just as Merida raised her sword to deliver another fiery blow and end the golem, Jean unleashed her spell. An invisible wave rippled through the air, and suddenly, Merida froze mid-swing. Mana arced around her form, trapping her in place. Her eyes widened in shock, and she tried to break free, but the more she struggled, the tighter the magic's hold became.
Her body glowed brighter as she attempted to channel more mana, but Jean's spell was already overwhelming her reserves. Her sword fell from her grip, clattering uselessly to the ground. Her eyes rolled back, her muscles twitching as the magic coursed through her, turning her power against her.
"Really, it was the worst matchup possible. A mana battery and a spell that works best the larger the target's reserves… I'll have to stop by and thank the old man after Damien is done with him."
Jean let the moment hang, calmly assessing her work. Once satisfied the fight had left her opponent, she released her hold, allowing Merida's limp form to drop unceremoniously to the ground. The Guildmistress groaned but made no attempt to rise.
Jean waved her hand, dismissing the shimmering shield that surrounded the plaza. "Victory is mine," she declared, her voice echoing across the now-silent square. "By the terms agreed upon, I will dictate the conditions. You will all surrender and be taken in.”
The immobilized adventurers looked on in stunned silence, none daring to move. With a flick of her wrist, Jean released her soldiers from the stone restraints, and they quickly moved to round up the remaining adventurers, who offered no further resistance.
Jean spared one last glance at Merida before turning away, her mind already moving to the other skirmishes still raging across the city. Soon after, she took to the sky, disappearing into the night as she went to lend her aid where it was needed most.
By the time the sun began to rise, the city had been brought back under control, and all the rebellious cells finally excised. Exhausted but satisfied, Jean returned to her study, ready to sleep the day off.
She found Demetria waiting for her, seated in a plush chair by the hearth with a steaming teapot on a tray.
"Busy night?" She asked, a soft smile on her lips.
Jean sighed, sinking into the sofa. "You could say that."
Demetria handed her a cup. Jean accepted it gratefully, letting the warmth seep into her hands as the two sat in companionable silence and slowly fell into sleep's embrace.