In the whimsical days of his admittedly edgy youth, Kieran would often toy with the idea of being quite the stealthy, sneaky ninja. Whether due to excessive anime consumption or perhaps his love for assassins in video games and movies, he never really knew.

But one thing he understood for sure is that stealth and tactical sneakiness was an entirely different ball game in real life, filled with unaccountable variables. You couldn't just reset to checkpoints or hide in cardboard boxes to escape enemies.

Now, as ridiculous as he found the idea, he still tried to conjure up some of that ninja power to save him from his current predicament.

Channelling all the focus he could muster into staying dead silent and still, Kieran hid behind the massive doorway of iridescent glyphs, not daring to move a muscle. The pounding in his chest quelled any urge to do so as the seconds dragged on remarkably slowly.

Though the band of Orcs had not yet ascended the short steps onto the platform, they noisily barked away at each other in their guttural and incoherent speech. Each gruff bark he heard told him they hadn’t gone away yet, in fact, he was pretty sure they were getting closer by the second.

Shit, double shit! What should I do? Kieran panicked as he double, then triple-checked his now empty belt loop.

Where did it bloody go?

Only after his mad dash to hide did Kieran notice the meagre excuse for a sword inexplicably missing from his hip. Now completely without a weapon to defend himself, a nervous vulnerability stirred his empty stomach into turmoil.

The ticking clock in his mind warned that he couldn't remain there any longer. It would only be a matter of time before the orcs approached and spotted him on the platform or walked around the sides and found him. Regardless, he had to leave now, or risk being caught.

Kieran slowly crept back to the far edge of the platform. Heart beating out his throat as he maintained just enough cognitive clarity to keep the dark side of the solid tall gate between him and the nattering Orcs.

The ring of glowing symbols that delineated the edge of the platform brightened as he approached, clearer and more vibrant than before. It almost looked as if somebody gradually turned up the brightness dial.

These engravings lacked the vast variety of the alphabet soup displayed on the great door itself. Whoever built this place once upon a time had engraved the stone floor with four familiar glyphs in a sequenced band. Kieran only now identified them as the ancient characters for fire, wind, ice, and lightning.

He mentally slapped himself for missing such an obvious key to the door’s basic arrangement of a puzzle.

This would have been a great heads-up, at least for anyone who reads this janky old system language.

A little too concerned with the ugly bastards just below the short steps to the platform, Kieran didn’t immediately notice the flare of light around the edge of the dais as he moved his leg over the edge, intent on gauging the drop distance. His shoe bumped into something firm in mid-air, and a translucent wall of impenetrable blue energy rippled to life before his eyes.

This is new…

The peculiar, ephemeral screen of light wouldn’t allow his foot to push through it at all. No matter where or how he experimentally prodded, it did not give way.

Okay, seriously, what the hell?

He extended a hand cautiously to feel for the invisible edge. Only to be rewarded by a solid wall of light that crumpled back his outstretched fingertips. The shimmering layer of blue air that rose directly in line with the ring of symbols would not permit even his balled fist to force its way past.

A sinking feeling in his stomach doubled as he tried shoving harder with both hands, attempting to brute force his way through like an animal in a cage. He realised then that this strange blue film was, in fact, a powerful barrier‌ of some kind. The pulsing resistance continued, illuminating the air with waves of force and light, likely drawing attention to him as it sent tremors through the air.

His heart raced and the skin on his hands tingled with static as he shoved with all his might. The tingling intensified into an unfamiliar twinge of pressure inside his hands. Elemental mana inside his body stirred in some form of response to this sensation.

Realising brute force might not be the smartest idea anymore, he took a step back but was apparently a moment too late. Vibrating pressure suddenly bloomed in his hands while the odd barrier of light held them in place and he struggled to free himself.

His unique new mana noticeably resonated with the barrier in some unknown way, he could feel it. The way it squirmed in his veins like a dancing string was completely different to how it moved with or without his guidance.

In a flash of blinding sky blue, an unseen repulsive force launched his hands violently away from the barrier with enough strength to send him sprawling onto the hard floor.

"Ahh!" he let out a girlish yelp, fearing the worst for his hands as he lost all sensation in them. He lay on his bruised back, examining each digit with relief once he was sure he hadn’t blown them to bits.

“Ughh” he groaned. “What the fuck was that–Oh? hello?" His voice perked up in surprise.

An indescribable display of multicoloured lights flared out from his palms. Beaming light into his eyes were luminous glowing threads of varying thickness and intensity. They wrapped his hand in a loose web akin to a series of halos.

There was no pain or discomfort at all as he flexed his shimmering fingers tentatively. He balled them into tight fists that still radiated with a muted kaleidoscope of those distinct elemental colours.

Orange, grey, blue, yellow? All four of them?

“Okay, this is kinda cool” He admitted to himself.

Before he could examine this strange phenomenon further, a throaty bark echoed out from behind him whilst he quickly staggered back to his feet. Hiding the conspicuous light of his hands behind his back, Kieran peered around the door to check his surroundings for the Orcs.

He could see each of them much clearer now. Three orcs, all very different in their appearances, stood just below the set of stairs leading up to the dais.

The one in the middle caught his eye immediately. Another of those towering berserker types, clad in patches of thick leather held on by straps, also complete with a grizzly axe that could undoubtedly cleave a grown man in two. Kieran gulped with apprehension as he eyed the long-edged reach of the weapon.

The short grunt was in the lead, pointing and snarling at the wide stone door shielding Kieran's hunched, bare-chested figure.

Behind the burly berserker, another relatively short orc crouched low to the ground, fiddling with something out of sight. Only when the scrawny orc stood up fully into view a moment later did Kieran truly become afraid of this small group.

Oh, fuck…it's him?

Atop the shiny, moss-coloured head of the furthest orc sat a feathered headdress adorned with long red plumage and small orange gems. Crimson cloth fastened the eery tribal attire in place with an extensive wrap that trailed far down its back.

The burning orange orbs the orc had for eyes set Kieran’s nerves further on edge. They actually pulsed light simultaneously with the orange gems adorning its head, making his heart beat even louder.

From even this distance, Kieran sensed the overwhelming amount of hot mana emanating from the creature. A warning to him that despite its diminutive stature; the orc bore a great deal of magical power.

Aww shit! What should I do? He tapped his foot in agitation, mind abuzz with worry as he scrambled to think.

Before Kieran even had time to form a mediocre semblance of a plan, the scrawny mage let out a gruff series of hissing sounds through its stubby yellow tusks. Each drawn-out syllable commanded a certain presence despite the foreign nature of the words.

The grunt and berserker both froze in place like robots. Then, in creepy unison, they turned as one and took sure steps toward the platform, and toward him.

Black eyes, and orange eyes?

There was definitely something more to this, but he couldn't begin to guess right now.

Scanning about with a frenzied look on his face, Kieran still didn't spot his weapon anywhere on the brightly lit platform.

"Fuck" he barked to himself. It looked like the only way he was getting out of there was to fight his way free.

Even with his recently honed confidence dispatching the shorter grunts with a sword, he couldn't think of any way out of this in one piece. Without any grasp on how to use mana properly, his mediocre martial arts skill would only get him so far. The idea of killing both the axe-wielding berserker and the fire mage without being grievously wounded was highly unlikely.

The first orc didn't give him any more time to think, it waddled over the top of the stairs, carrying a familiar-looking hatchet by its side. Those dull black eyes only focused on the vibrantly lit glyphs as they approached, not noticing him yet.

It occurred to Kieran then that he still held the element of surprise, so he remained tucked behind the door and urged his racing heart to calm as much as possible.

A sigh of relief escaped his dry lips as he saw that the two orcs he found genuinely threatening had yet to join the first on the platform. The berserker stood menacingly on the stairs, trying to look intimidating, but was only blocking the mage's view where it remained behind it.

The grunt trudged forward alone, so Kieran ducked his head back to remain as hidden as possible. He made sure not to make any contact with the giant gate as he patiently held his breath and prayed the orcs would move on.

The enormous stone door thrummed with the sound of rising energy that startled Kieran. A dull pressure of thick mana creeped out in a vague sphere for a few seconds, then rushed back inside the door immediately. Kieran could still practically taste the elemental energies buzzing through the air despite the sudden void of power left in its absence.

The door returned to silence, and a meaty thud, followed by a solid clatter of metal on stone, rang out loudly. Curiosity forced Kieran to risk another peak, and he leant his head out just enough to witness a truly unexpected sight.

Wrinkled dry like a mossy raisin husk–void of any signs of life–lay a single orc, as dead as a doornail, throwing Kieran’s thoughts into a mix of joy and shock.

Holy shit, what an idiot. Did it touch the door? But why did it drop so quickly? That didn’t happen to me…

Kieran hadn’t truly considered how his multiple strange interactions with the door may have changed its functions. Unbeknownst to him, the door was no longer trying to drain a small amount of mana via a steady influx, as he originally experienced. It instead channelled the four elements actively across each sigil and, on contact, began to absorb as much elemental energy as fast as possible.

He was half praising Jesus, Odin, and all the gods he knew for his luck at not being caught, when he saw a twinkling sign of hope. The small hatchet the orc must have dropped glinted in the flickering lights cast by the various sigils.

Just to the side of the orc's body, the weapon shimmered under the cascading light; ready for the taking. It took great restraint not to run out and grab the small axe right that second. Instead, he patiently waited for the larger orc to turn around or back up so he could surprise it from behind, another idea that did not go in his favour.

After a quick hiss that Kieran assumed to be the mage's command, their tall and burly companion stomped slowly up the stairs. Seeing the space between them shorten suddenly, Kieran decided to make a break for it before his hesitation cost him his chance.

He dashed straight toward the fallen weapon, reaching it in seconds. He scooped up and gripped the handle tightly before the berserker even looked in his direction. Once he held the weapon, he noticed it was weirdly identical to the short axe he donated to Illya previously. Memories of his brief friendship brought a pang of loneliness that quickly got pushed aside by the rush of adrenaline he felt buzzing in his muscles.

With a casual savagery Kieran had never displayed in his life, let alone thought himself capable of before, he ferociously swung the hatchet down with a crunch, embedding it directly into the frontal lobe of the grounded orc. If the creature wasn’t dead before, it most certainly was now.

Better safe than sorry…He told himself.

The Berserker reacted to the gruesome noise and sudden movement, tilting his head and glaring at Kieran with those eerie black eyes.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

With the realisation that his knockoff rainbow hands were causing him to stick out like a sore thumb-more than even the shining glyphs to his rear, he decided to use whatever remaining element of surprise he still held.

“Fuck it”

He pushed hard off the ground, all but sprinting at the mountainous Orc that was only a step or two away from the top of the stairs. His heart pounded harder and quick breaths drove him into action. With each hurried step, the harmonious mana residing in his limbs stirred with life, as if reacting to his desire to fight for survival. He clenched the axe so hard that the solid wood creaked in his grip as he raised it above his head.

The Berserker’s significantly bigger head must carry that bit more grey matter than its smaller compatriots, Kieran assumed when he saw this one react to his obvious attack path right away.

It did not cower, however, instead, the orc lifted its far superior beheader of an axe and bellowed a primal yell of challenge at him. The magical barrier was nowhere to be seen as the tall figure stomped its way onto the platform.

Kieran felt like someone had tipped icy water down his back as the bellowing roar shook the stone beneath his feet. The hairs on his body turned to needles that made him shiver all over.

Instinctive terror gripped him in such a way that he wished he could run and never look back, rather than fight such a terrifying foe head-on.

He knew he was no great warrior, barely even an amateur swordsman at best, and wielding an unfamiliar axe, not a sword. Still, he sensed he had no chance against the towering monster's strength and aggression. If only he had some real combat skills, or better yet, still had Illya with him to fight these guys.

The handsome Elnari badass could no doubt one-shot the big bastard for him with his absurdly powerful skill.

That’s it! A proverbial lightbulb shone brightly in his mind before flickering out.

I’m fucked if I try to fight normally. He admitted to himself.

Might as well give it a shot…

Kieran skidded to a clumsy stop, almost tripping over his own feet as his mind pulled at recent memories for inspiration. He quickly spread his feet nice and wide, resembling an old school kung-fu stance, but with the addition of magically glowing hands; outstretched and holding a short axe above him.

There was little time left until the Orc crossed the remaining few metres between them, so he knew he had to act now, despite the fear of taking such a huge risk.

Kieran did his best to shove aside the nagging fear of overloading his manabody, being hit with a backlash, or just spontaneously combusting.

Swallowing down his panic, he reminded himself of another great cliche from his counsellor's wall of inspirational quotes. He remembered the quote "You have to risk going too far to find out how far you can go" and held onto the blind optimism, even though he knew he was attempting the impossible and risking death.

A deep breath of focused intent activated his innate skill, and Kieran inhaled even deeper still, concentrating on pulling at the dense mana in the vicinity. This fresh influx of mixed mana excited the churning contents of his manabody into a more stable and controlled flow, one that he now had a far better grasp of.

First, he focused on the radiant energy inside his hands. With a concerted effort of coercion, the illuminating light of mana threads around his hands ceased.

Another short breath later and the energy obediently coursed back up his arms to join the circulating torrent at his core.

A bizarre feeling writhed inside his chest as he felt the separate energies dissolve under pressure, joining the main flow of elemental mana that circulated his black orb. The remaining glow of his upheld hands faded immediately, letting him know he was on the right track.

He thought back to what felt like days ago, the way Illya’s mana condensed like a coiled spring until it exploded up through him into his weapon. Kieran had zero idea how the Elnari man had reappeared in his original spot after attacking. For now, he hoped that just the lightning-fast attack would be enough to give him an edge.

Softening his knees, Kieran crouched slightly and inhaled raw power again. The mixed mana flowed ever so swiftly, almost in tandem with his will. Each wave forced down more and more energy into his legs until the density threatened to overpower the incoming mana's pressure.

Intense vibrations accompanied the resistant buildup of mana, and where he forcefully condensed it further, muscles and bones began to itch.

Every fibre of his body begged him to charge forward and release all this energy in an instant, but he held back a little longer. He knew just by the feeling that it was risky to try imbuing any more mana into the attack, especially when he had little to no knowledge of how this skill worked.

Regardless, he hoped to make up for his lack of control with the one thing Illya didn’t have over him: an overwhelming supply of internal energy.

Like a bullet in a barrel…Just aim and shoot.

A tiny flicker of purple gleamed across his dark brown eyes for an imperceptible moment as they bore a hole through the thick chest of the berserker.

Right as the contained pressure of wild energy threatened to explode out the soles of his feet, Kieran honed his aim and narrowed his focus.

Grip tight on the axe above his head, he took a slow breath to brace himself. In that moment of calm excitement, vague memories of miniature mana tornadoes reminded him exactly how his friend readied the skill. Noticeably different to the way Kieran himself just compressed his vast pool of mana like a spring piston.

Crap! He wanted to slap himself.

In his eagerness, he almost forgot this subtle aspect of the mana flow, and now he was far beyond the point of altering or cancelling anything.

So he pushed aside the regretful doubt, clenched his teeth, and hoped nothing went too wrong as he finally relaxed control over the raging power. No longer constrained, mana boiled over and raced up his manabody faster than he expected or planned to facilitate.

The raw power overwhelmed his senses at first as it ran through him like a raging bull. Acutely aware that one arm would not be enough to control the violent torrent, it took all his gritted focus to funnel the raw flood of energies into his arms whilst he drew back the axe with both hands.

His eyes never left the bulky green chest of the approaching foe.

In that moment of determination to strike, a terrifying tsunami of mana tore him forward into a blur of light and darkness. There was only his weapon and his enemy.

Wind currents pulled at his hair and face, forcing him to squint from the pressure alone.

For the briefest of moments, the flowing wind itself blew within his veins. Carrying him gently amongst shifting currents of air, he lost all sense of himself in the chaotic undulations rushing all around.

Everything blurred in waves for another moment, the sharp, primal tusks of the green beast flashed in the distance as he danced amongst the breeze.

Lost in the unrestrained freedom of shifting air, large black eyes appeared right before his face, quicker than he could react to in any normal situation. Kieran knew he should attack, but he long since lost all sensation of physical awareness. There was nought but the fluttering of his hair and the soothing caress against his cheek.

But as well as these gentle touches across his body, a raging hurricane of swirling lines of grey mana quickly bloomed to life in the palm of his hand. It wrapped around the wooden hilt and began to vibrate ferociously in his grip, and he knew nothing of this power except that it wished desperately to fly free of his grasp.

Despite the wonder he felt at seeing and feeling the wind itself manifest so clearly from his strength of will, he could make out the faint pleading behind its noisy whistles. The wind could not and should not be contained, not by him or anyone else. By its very essence, it desired to always be free, and now it wished desperately to escape from his temporary grasp.

Instead of just letting go of this power and risking it fading away, he urged the eager wind to at least follow a path of his choosing as he released it back into the world.

With only his mind and his breath to guide it, the wild gale poured relentlessly into the weapon in his grasp. Within the noisy chaos of violent air, Kieran blurred forward in a moment that felt eternal and struck out through the windy haze surrounding his view.

A sharp pain suddenly tore at his palm, and at almost the same moment, he crashed heavily to the stone floor in a bruised heap, rolling as if thrown from a moving car. The overwhelming mana and gale of wind vanished like an illusion, leaving him hollow and dazed with a mouthful of blood.

Kieran attempted to prop himself up immediately, despite the world still silently spinning like mad around him.

Blinking to clear his vision, he examined his damaged hand.

"Ow, what the hell was that?"

Like a baby porcupine with alopecia, large pale shards of wood riddled one of his poor throbbing hands. The palm bled profusely, but this pain was nothing compared to the gnawing feeling in his gut that he couldn't quite place.

Moments of confusion passed in which Kieran wondered how he'd ended up on the floor. Luckily his mind and vision cleared enough now to take in the messy heap of wet gore lying right in front of him.

Disjointed mounds of flesh and blood, broken up by patches of green skin, extended away from him, up to and over the edge of the dais.

Two shoddy old leather boots stood upright from the mess, with a muscular, green leg protruding from each, only for each trunk to end at a cleanly cut stump above the knee joint.

It appeared as though the entire orc had taken a one-way trip through a wood chipper, save for its legs. Even the giant double-headed axe had vanished from sight.

The confusion persisted when his gaze was drawn to a handful of metal shards embedded in the solid stone floor. He was positive he heard them humming softly amidst all the gore. Gentle wisps of air whirled around each shard for another moment, then the mana faded away entirely and the pathetic, ruined remnants of Kieran's axe were silent again.

Looking between his wounded hand, the shards of axe strewn across the floor, and where he had been standing seconds earlier, Kieran struggled to comprehend his own actions.

He'd only expected an attack similar to his friend's speedy cutting skill to take place, possibly something far weaker, or even a complete failure.

"I can't believe that worked" he murmured to himself.

He was blown away, so to speak, after witnessing such a brutally wild explosion of meat and gore, and even more impressive to him was that he'd pulled it off without any help.

That freeing sensation of the wind blowing through his whole body already felt like a distant memory, one that he couldn’t hold on to no matter how much he tried. The recollection became but a mote of dust on a breeze, carried away by its own freeing nature.

There was ‌no awful feeling of skill backlash as far as he could tell, that was another reason he was sure he hadn't performed the same skill as Illya. Well, that combined with the messy slabs of orc meat before him as opposed to the single clean cut Illya executed.

The uncertainty that came with understanding confused him greatly, but throbbing lances of pain in his hand kept him present enough to remember the remaining danger.

Where's that fucking mage?

As if on cue, the entire platform erupted in sky-blue light cast from up high somewhere, drawing Kieran's panicked gaze. Afraid the door was about to do something crazy and unexpected again, he was slightly relieved to see a wide region above the ringed barrier shimmer with luminescent shades of blue, almost identical to when he tried to escape the platform.

Looking behind him, the door calmly hummed like a sleeping beast. Some symbols had dimmed and others now shone with a far deeper radiance, but otherwise, it was still the same as before.

Not the door then, was it–

A bright orange flash illuminated a large patch of the barrier closest to Kieran, it almost looked like a small wave of fire splashed against the surface, but he couldn't see clearly. The flickering flames immediately vanished, erased and replaced by the soft and steady glow of the barrier, which also prevented any noticeable heat from passing through.

Gritting his teeth, Kieran eased out the largest and most deeply embedded spike of wood from his palm. Blood trickled faster and Kieran swore angrily at the pain every time the splintered edge caught flesh. He bemoaned his lack of clean dressing and was hoping the magically fast healing would kick in and help fend off any infection.

Rocking up onto his knees, he clasped a firm hand around his wrist to slow the blood flow at least. The wound looked messy but superficial enough that with some pressure, rest, and a little bit of magic, it should be as good as new in no time.

His musings were interrupted by another great blast of flame impacting the barrier with a thunderous impact. From the light alone, Kieran could tell each subsequent flaming projectile was progressively bigger than the last. Yet the four elements barrier didn't seem to budge in the slightest under the blazing power.

He considered if the barrier itself was immune to the four different elements from how easily it shrugged off the flames over and over. Drawn to the source of the flames, Kieran stood fully to see where his enemy was launching attacks from.

"This scrawny little prick!" He said, astonished and pissed off at the same time.

The fire-throwing orc lurked a good thirty metres away, half hiding behind one of the tall pillars leading to the great dais. Kieran watched the menacing little orc draw back his hands in a stance that looked ‌oddly like a Kamehameha pose. A twisting ball of red and orange flame swirled into existence in moments. He watched for another few seconds as the flaming orb expanded enough to fill the two-foot gap between the clawed green hands.

Even from this distance, Kieran squinted at the small orange sun that filled the whole hall with ominous sunset shades. The orc sneered, pointed teeth and tusks displayed in glee. Then with a sudden shoving motion, more mana erupted from its hands to send the flaming ball forward at speed.

Kieran wasn't concerned the attack could ever reach him, but he still grew offended at the orc's repeated attempts. Not to mention pretty jealous at the casual display of magic.

"What bullshit! How is this little runt throwing so many fireballs at me?" He hissed.

"Yo! System, where is my damn magic?" he said, voice full of annoyance.

The system didn’t answer, of course.

“Fine!” he yelled in frustration. “I get it, you ass, don't talk to me again System.”

A watermelon-sized ball of arson splashed meekly across the impenetrable barrier, just like all the previous attacks. Whoever created this barrier thankfully made it incredibly effective at keeping all elemental mana from crossing its boundaries.

It was at that moment that Kieran realised this also applied to him. The reason he could not leave, and yet the berserker walked inside without issue, must have been due to the high density of elemental mana in him. Confident that this meant the pyromaniac orc wouldn’t be able to enter either, he finally relaxed a tiny bit.

With that in mind, Kieran finished picking out the last spikes and splinters of wood from his palm as he considered how the door might function alongside the barrier before eventually giving up his guesswork.

Once all the debris was extracted he held the hand firmly against his trouser leg to stem the bleeding. As his blood soaked into his jeans and ran down his wrist, he became acutely aware of the subtle wafts of mana that drifted free of the leaking red fluid.

The reminder brought back memories of that unique sensation he received from the blue flash that teleported Nathan away and then again when he absorbed Darren’s mana back in the cavern.

Both times felt almost identical, but why?

Kieran had absorbed multiple different types of mana by now, yet that oddly vibrant energy never appeared since and he wondered if there was even any trace of the mysterious power inside him anymore.

Maybe before all the crazy fighting…now though, I’m just full of this elemental mana more than anything else.

Despite being caught up in his thoughts, inducing his innate skills absorption effect came easier than ever before. After only a few breaths, drawn out slightly longer than would be deemed normal, the free-floating mana surrounding him drifted closer without delay.

A cloudy blanket of mana came into view around him until the neutral and elemental mana alike both poured into his lungs in a steady trickle. It didn’t take long until the lingering hollowness in his body filled out, replaced with what Kieran considered to be an incredibly pleasant and comfortable oscillating.

Each pulsed beat in his chest sent more mana coursing through his arms and legs, renewing his strength at a noticeable rate. Thankfully, the pain from his wounds lessened a little more with each passing wave.

The insubstantial nature of his manabody and its unclear link to his cardiovascular system truly perplexed Kieran. He discerned a consistent stream of cool energy making its way directly into his heart from the overlapping magical circuitry.

Ignorance was genuinely frustrating to him. He knew there had to be so much information he lacked regarding magic and just the basic nature of his new magical physiology, for starters. But at this crawling rate of progress, he definitely wouldn’t grasp the nuances of mana and cultivation for a long, long time.

I bet the guys in the tutorial are getting all the fucking answers spoon-fed to them…

A strong pulse of heat in his chest brought him back from thoughts of frustration. The mana inside him thrummed more erratically than he was used to, so he focused on coaxing it into a steady, flowing stream as he managed to previously. Despite his attempts, the initial cooling turned to deeper warmth, and within moments grew to an uncomfortable heat.

His throat became more dry with each breath, tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth. It wasn’t just the heat in his chest that concerned him though, the air against his skin had grown sauna hot. Beads of moisture dripped from his skin only to evaporate immediately on contact with the roasting air.

At the same moment, he became curious as to why the orc mage was no longer bombarding fireballs into the barrier, so he spared a glance behind.

He half hoped the ugly bastard had run out of mana and would be weak and tired, if only so he could get his mana back under control and focus on healing up a little longer.

Wishful thinking, for fuck’ sake! He sighed and rolled his eyes in frustration.

The fire mage was not even remotely done, appearing to have changed tactics completely. Instead of mindlessly launching projectiles, the ugly bastard was currently pouring an endless jet of glaring orange flames across the distance. A thick torrent of flame flew from two outstretched palms, and the orc's beady eyes remained closed in apparent focus.

As the growing tongues of flames scattered across the shimmering barrier, a sinking feeling gnawed at Kieran’s stomach.

Is he the one making it so hot in here? But how?

Adamant that no energy could pass through the barrier for these blasts of fire, Kieran could only guess that the constant stream of fire allowed just enough heat through to make a cumulative difference.

And now it occurred to him that he was trapped inside what was quickly transforming into a magical air fryer, ready for roasting.

"This is such a pisstake!" He groaned.