The battle had begun: Arthur and Shin, and Ardea and Gale were already running around, flinging attacks at each other; and yet, Cadmus stood still, rooted upon the ground as he locked eyes with the similarly still Mark Tempor.
Then, Mark laughed, “Finally! Finally, I get to fight you fair and square, in front of all these people! Finally, I get to prove that my knowledge is far greater than yours! I’ve been waiting a long time for this…”
“It seems we’ve both gotten our wish then,” Cadmus said, “Because I have been wanting to face you as well.”
Mark’s grin widened, “Oh?”
“I promised that I would personally get revenge for Oliver, and I made a similar promise to avenge Candice as well. I’m glad to receive the opportunity to make good on those promises.”
Mark’s grin faded slightly, “Is that so?” He raised his arm in front of him in a position ready to draw, and Cadmus instinctively mirrored the movement, “Then come! Let’s see which of us gets to fulfil his wish today!”
As though prompted by some unspoken signal, they both began to draw their magic circles as one. Cadmus wasn’t the most emotionally knowledgeable person, but even he could tell now that they had both come to some sort of silent agreement: they would both only fight with their magic at the ready, and only then could the true victor be decided.
As their circles were incredibly detailed and complicated it took a fair amount of time for them both to finish drawing. At the end of it, they both had two circles; Mark held one each in both his hands, while Cadmus layered his on top of each other and connected them with a line so that they would always move together.
“What’s that you’ve got there?” Mark amusedly gestured at the circle layered below Heroic Possession, “I don’t think I’ve seen you use that this entire tournament. Though it does look faintly familiar…”
Cadmus unsheathed his blade and poured mana through his circle for Heroic Possession, “That circle does not concern you.”
His muscles tightened, magic surged through his veins with heady purpose, and the puppet strings of his own design took hold of his body. Sigurd stood at the helm now.
And then, he charged forward just as the translucent purple cylinder of Time Dilation rushed towards him.
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A series of resounding clangs rang across the field as Caliburn and Kazekiri crashed against each other again and again. Arthur and Shin had been locked in this deadly dance of swordplay for quite some time now, and yet, neither had managed to break through the other’s guard.
It had been blinding defiance that had caused Arthur to forgo Caliburn’s long-range capabilities, but now his head was cooling, and worry and doubt were replacing it like an insidious poison. What if he lost? What if he had overestimated himself? What if he let down his people? If so, couldn’t all this have been avoided if he hadn’t been foolish enough to allow Shin to approach this close?
But then, Cadmus’ judgement filled his ears once more, and the angry defiance returned. The Golden Prince of Victory would win here fair and square, and Cadmus’ words would finally ring hollow.
Shin let loose another flurry of slashes, but once more, Arthur successfully repelled them. Arthur then tried following up with an attack of his own, but by the time the strike was unleashed, Shin had already leapt back, creating some distance between them.
It was a break in the rhythm, and Arthur instinctively prepared his blade to shoot a spell from it. But then sense caught up with him quick enough and he remembered why he had stopped his long-ranged attacks in the first place.
Shin paused for a moment, his eyes narrowing at Arthur, before the magic circle on Kazekiri flashed and he sent a slash composed of wind flying at Arthur. Arthur blocked it with a shield spell on Caliburn, feeling that it was fair to at least use a spell for a spell.
Arthur then charged forward, dispatching of the next set of Wind Blades in the same way. Kazekiri and Caliburn met once more with a clang, and it looked as though the battle would fall back into its old rhythm.
But, once again, Shin added a new element to the battle: just as with Gawain, he began using his Wind Strikes in conjunction with his quick and relentless swordplay, allowing Arthur no reprieve and striking through the gaps in his armour.
Arthur was better at keeping Shin at bay due to Caliburn’s defensive spells, but even so, it was clear that Shin held the advantage here. Their exchange continued on for a while yet before Shin disengaged again. He stepped back, but instead of preparing an attack, he simply stood still.
Warily, Arthur readied his blade. Perhaps this was a ploy to lower his guard…
“This is… disappointing,” Shin finally spoke.
“What do you mean?” Arthur asked, maintaining his vigilance.
“I had expected more from someone titled ‘The Golden Prince of Victory.’” Shin said, his tone polite and formal as always, “Although, I suppose I may be at fault as well. Despite what the announcer said, it isn’t that Carmenia doesn’t like titles, it’s simply that they’re reserved for mostly adults—children have to do something truly spectacular to receive one too. Because of that, my expectations were raised because I heard that you possessed one as well.”
“Are my skills not satisfactory enough for you?” Arthur asked, “I have yet to see you bypass my guard.”
“Your skills are fine,” Shin said, “It’s your motivation that disappoints me. For someone with the word ‘victory’ in his title, you have a remarkable lack of drive for it.”
Arthur tried smiling politely, “I’m sorry, but I don’t quite understand. I am trying to win.”
“No, you’re trying to not lose.”
An explosion of flame to their right enveloped the battlefield in a brief rush of heat, and a quick glance told Arthur that it had been the result of Ardea’s Flame Dragon crashing against the ground: Gale, having barely dodged it by a hair, was now defending against the explosion of fire with a shield spell.
“Furthermore,” Shin said, “You’re avoiding using the full extent of your abilities. If I had to take a guess, I would say it’s because you seem to be trying to prove a point.”
Arthur felt a little chilled. Dangerous… his mind whispered, this man’s intuition is dangerous…
But he was also slightly wrong.
“Maybe part of it is to prove a point. But mainly, it’s because it wouldn’t be fair to use the full extent of Caliburn’s capabilities. To win using superior equipment would be dishonourable.”
“That’s not how it works,” Shin said firmly, “In battle, you bring everything you have to bear against your opponent, otherwise you disrespect them. If I win today, what shall I say to myself? ‘Oh, you won, but only while your opponent was refusing to fight with his true prowess.’ It would be a shameful victory for me, and a meaningless loss for you.”
And now, under the weight of Shin’s admonishments, Arthur felt the flame of defiance within him roar again, filling his chest and veins with a searing heat and forging his voice into hard steel.
“Even so, it wouldn’t be honourable. I am not like Morgana!”
Shin stared for a moment, then shook his head, “Indeed you are not. Unlike you, at least Morgana Le Fay had the courage to try and defeat her opponent with all her might, despite having lost her greatest strength—the secrecy of her illusion magic. It was only when she understood that victory was impossible that she surrendered.”
Arthur’s iron-clad control over his expression snapped, and his lips twisted into an angry scowl.
“You wouldn’t understand: the duties of royalty are different from the duties of any other warrior.”
Shin shrugged, “That’s true, I don’t understand. However, what I do know is, if I had to choose, I would easily choose to follow Morgana Le Fay rather than you. She isn’t perfect, but I would prefer her to following a ruler who doesn’t even face his enemies properly.”
Arthur recoiled as if struck, and all the defiance within him suddenly evaporated. He felt weightless now, like his insides had all just suddenly disappeared on him.
“What…?”
His voice was weak and pathetic, lacking the sort of confident firmness that made it so distinctly his. It was like hearing a stranger speak.
Shin watched impassively, his narrow eyes seeming to pierce right through him, “I doubt I need to repeat myself. Choosing not to fight me with the aid of Caliburn, allowing me to duel you with swordplay, only using a spell when I use one… it’s all just bluster—confused, frantic bluster.” He raised Kazekiri into a ready position, “None of it means anything! Fight, Pendragon! I should like to see the ‘Golden Prince of Victory’ in action now!”
Arthur stood still, as once more Cadmus’ voice echoed in his mind.
‘I wonder what that victory is worth, if this is how you’ve achieved it all this time?’
Arthur met Shin’s eyes.
“I can’t lose…” he whispered quietly.
“You won’t win either. Not like this.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Arthur spotted Gale Holland finish a new circle. Thunder Edge sprung to life on his arm, and he rushed towards Ardea’s new Flame Dragon.
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Cadmus stifled a grunt of pain as Sigurd’s muscle memory forced his body beyond its means to dodge under Time Dilation swinging above him like a giant beam. The beam vanished after passing over him, and another cylinder of translucent purple rapidly elongated towards him from Mark.
But Cadmus easily dodged that as well. Not only was Sigurd’s muscle memory incredibly quick to act, but Oliver had also revealed all of Mark’s tricks: the fact that Mark couldn’t move Time Dilation quickly once it was activated, the fact that he would deactivate the spell to aim the spell elsewhere before reactivating it, and the fact that doing so took up far too much mana than Mark was comfortable with…
All of this was valuable information that made fighting Mark far simpler. The only damage Cadmus had taken so far was the result of his own spell being unrefined rather than any action on Mark’s part.
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Of course, Mark had yet to be hurt as well. However, that was soon about to change.
Oliver had made it to Mark with only his information and the Fireball spell. Now Cadmus possessed not only that information as well, but also Heroic Possession: a spell far more suited to this battle than Fireball.
Twisting around another burst of Time Dilation, Cadmus once again closed a large chunk of the distance between him and Mark. Mark took a step back, his lips pressing into a thin line. He seemed to consider something for a second.
“Well, I suppose it was bound to come down to this sooner or later.”
Setting aside his Time Dilation circle by layering it under his Time Acceleration circle, he began drawing something new.
Of course, Cadmus did not let this opportunity go, and now free of any hindrances, closed the final stretch of distance between them. He moved to strike Mark down, but Mark finished his circle just then, and a blade of dully glowing white suddenly materialized to stop him in his tracks.
Magic Sword, Cadmus instantly recognized as his body automatically pulled his own arming sword back and tried to strike from a different angle. Once more, it was blocked.
He was suddenly reminded of what Ardea had said about Mark: that he had had training in swordsmanship.
Their blades clashed in a flurry a few more times, and Cadmus began to understand. Indeed, Mark had been trained in swordsmanship, but not to the extent of Lancelot or Gawain—even Gale Holland was far more skilled than him. Under normal circumstances, seven percent of Sigurd’s muscle memory would be more than enough to defeat him within an exchange or two.
But these were not normal circumstances, for in Mark’s other hand rested the Time Acceleration magic circle. Cadmus had to admit, it was certainly one of the most impressive spells he’d seen. Not just because of its complexity, but also because of the depth of its effect as well.
While Gale Holland’s Thunder Edge sped up the body only slightly, Time Acceleration sped up the body to a completely different level. The speed Mark had been granted with its use was nothing short of miraculous, with every movement of his looking like nothing more than a blur. It was like he was an anomaly, something that simply did not fit in with the natural movements of the world. He may only be decently skilled in the art of swordplay, but any missteps he made, or any time his guard was broken, he would instantly compensate for it with his inhuman speed.
And yet, despite all of that, Mark still hadn’t managed to land a single blow on Cadmus.
Mark’s forehead tensed further and further as the match went on, and his movements became wilder, more desperate. Something within him was clearly straining.
“You’ve already noticed, haven’t you?” Cadmus asked as his arm shot up to repel the overhead swing. Mark’s Magic Sword met Cadmus’ arming sword head-on, but where Sigurd might have had the strength to withstand it, Cadmus did not. Sigurd’s muscle memory recognized that the attack would break his balance, and so defaulted to diverting the attack instead.
Mark stumbled, and Cadmus’ leg instantly lashed out and caught him on the chest, sending him stumbling back. Sigurd’s muscle memory did not grant him any reprieve and forced Cadmus to leap forward with another attack at the ready.
Mark, with the aid of his Time Acceleration, recovered quickly from his pained coughing and barely managed to fend off Cadmus’ assault.
“Noticed what?” He hissed venomously.
“Or are you perhaps refusing to acknowledge it?” Cadmus asked, steadily thwarting all of Mark’s counterattacks, “How foolish.”
Mark’s expression twisted into something ugly and feral, and his next swing was delivered with particularly powerful force. That was a mistake since the attack was blocked, and as he tried to recover, Cadmus was able to score another hit upon his shoulder with the pommel of his blade.
“NOTICED WHAT, GUILES?” Mark snarled, panting.
“That right now, my spell is simply better than yours.”
Mark faltered, and Cadmus felt almost hollow as he pressed forward, his arming sword meeting Mark’s Magic Sword in such a way that the flat of Mark’s own blade struck him right in the face. He stumbled back for the third time this match, blood flowing down his cheek this time.
Cadmus wondered idly, where had that deep, bright rage that he had felt only a while ago disappeared to? Why did he feel so cold inside now, like all of his internal organs had tensed up against a blizzard chill?
His body rushed forward, once again granting Mark no reprieve. And, while Cadmus had surrendered his body to Sigurd, he felt more disconnected from it than ever—like he was an outsider looking in. The mind thought, the limbs moved, but the heart had turned numb.
Was this what happened when anger was sustained?
“Better?” Mark snarled as he defended, “How arrogant of you; do you really think your spell is better than mine—”
“Stop talking,” Cadmus said coolly, “If you want to prove me wrong, then do so with your actions and spare me the sound of your voice.”
Mark’s enraged expression twisted even further, with his face beginning to turn into a conspicuous shade of red. Pushing Cadmus’ blade back, he tried launching a series of quick strikes. However, Sigurd’s muscle memories instantly pinpointed the weakness within the assault and broke it with a well-placed stab. Mark managed to avoid another wound, but he was put on the back foot again.
And that was the long and short of it. Mark’s Time Acceleration and basic combat training allowed him to keep up with Cadmus, but that was it. Even just seven percent of Sigurd’s muscle memory was too much for him to overcome.
As expected of one of the world’s most famous heroes perhaps?
Mark grunted as he blocked Cadmus’ next swing, “You—you will not humiliate me!”
“Then you’ll have to learn to cope with defeat,” Cadmus said, “Because this will only end one way.”
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Arthur and Shin stood at a distance from each other, both unmoving as they watched the other two battles unfold beside them. Ardea was still on the offensive, but now that Gale had materialized his Thunder Edge, he had steadily begun drawing a new circle between moments of evasion with his now enhanced speed.
No one was under the impression that the new circle would be anything other than the Raijuu’s Strike.
Behind them Cadmus and Mark were locked in a duel of blades, a strange direction for a battle between magical researchers to take. They seemed to be on equal footing, with Cadmus holding a slight edge, and it looked to Arthur that Cadmus was using that small advantage to steadily grind down Mark’s defenses.
Arthur smiled wryly. It seemed that despite what he had thought of Cadmus, he himself was the weak link of this team.
Which begged the question…
“Why are you doing this?”
Shin looked at him curiously, “Doing what?”
“Why are you trying to help me? I’m your enemy. Don’t you want to win?”
Shin smiled, “It’s because I want to win that I’m helping you.”
Arthur looked down at Caliburn; handsome as ever, it stood at the ready, its great power wielded by a foolish prince who did not understand the difference between victory and survival.
It was a disservice.
Arthur took a deep breath, and something seemed to lock into place. A fire which had been extinguished flared to life again, but this time it was a controlled flame, one that warmed his insides instead of burning them.
His nerves shook at what he was about to do, but he knew he would have to do it all the same. It had been a while since he had felt this way—he had been thirteen last. Funnily enough, that time he had also been in a tournament ring.
“I’m sorry,” Arthur said.
Shin readied his blade, “…What for?”
“I know you want to fight me at my best, but to fight at my best, you’re not the one I have to overcome.” Arthur smiled, and it was a begrudging yet resolute sort of smile.
He raised Caliburn and eyed the battle next to them. Gale was nearly done with his circle, and Ardea had begun preparing for its inevitable completion by creating and layering several defense spells.
Arthur took another deep breath. It was now or never.
“ARDEA, SWITCH!” He called.
He took off running towards Ardea and Gale’s battle, forcing his legs to move even though visions of loss, of Lancelot and Gawain losing faith in him, of Morgana mocking him, and of his proud nation of knights being thought weak attempted to paralyze him. A glance towards Shin told him that he was being allowed to let go, and he swallowed roughly, giving the noble warrior a grateful nod.
Ardea’s gaze landed on him out of the corner of her eye, and she seemed annoyed at being told what to do. But, as always, was quick on the uptake. She hesitated for a mere split second before following Arthur’s lead and switching targets. As they passed each other, Arthur could almost see the road behind him disappear: the decision was made, and he would have to live with the consequences now.
Arthur kept running through the burnt battlefield towards Gale Holland, but the latter had used the tiny reprieve provided to him during the switch to finish his circle. Without pausing for even a second, he swung his new circle at Arthur.
A moment of quiet that seemed to stretch into eternity filled the space between them.
And then, suddenly—
CRACK!
A blinding bolt of lightning ripped through the air, shaking the earth and Arthur’s bones with it. But Arthur had been ready, Cadmus had already revealed how to tell the aim of the Raijuu’s Strike. He had already readied Caliburn, and more importantly, the anti-lightning circle upon it.
The Raijuu’s Strike crashed against Caliburn with all of its power, pushing him back with its mighty force, and for a moment Arthur worried that a properly cast Raijuu’s Strike could not in fact be blocked. But then the spell collapsed into a collection of rapidly fading sparks, and both Arthur and Gale stared for a moment.
“It worked…” Arthur whispered.
“Don’t celebrate yet, Your Majesty,” Gale said. His expression looked easy, but there was almost something strained about it, “You may be able to defend against the Raijuu’s Strike, but Lancelot could do the same, and look how he ended up.”
Arthur did not respond, choosing instead to ready his blade once more. Gale swung his circle again, and after a moment of stillness, another bolt of lightning raced towards Arthur. However, once more Arthur blocked it with Caliburn.
This time, instead of simply sitting still, he returned fire with a few Fireballs. His own spells would never be able to match the Raijuu’s Strike, but they were still spells crafted by Merlin and enhanced with Dragonfire Gold. The massive orbs of flame raced forward with a searing heat and Gale leaped to the side to dodge them before swinging his circle once more.
CRACK!
Arthur blocked another bolt of lightning, gritting his teeth as his bones rattled once more. The difference between Gale Holland and his brothers could not be more apparent. Elis had only been able to use the Raijuu’s Strike once, and though Connor had been better with it, he had relied upon its power too heavily to truly elevate it to a more dangerous level.
Gale had no such weaknesses: with the aid of Thunder Edge, the speed of his swings were far faster, which consequently meant keeping track of where he was targeting and reacting to his attacks in time were both far more difficult feats as well.
Had Arthur been just a little less skilled, a little less observant, he would have already been defeated by now—even with Caliburn’s aid.
Deftly rotating the flat of his blade, he fired off a few more Fireballs, and added several Rock Spikes into the mix as well. He had mana to spare. As Gale dodged his attacks, he counterattacked with a series of Raijuu Strikes.
It was almost akin to a deadly game of ping pong: One would attack, the other would defend, and then he would follow it up with a counterattack. The battle was stuck within a strange balance, with neither side managing to land a solid hit.
This could not go on forever. Arthur didn’t know who would slip up first, but he couldn’t deny that if it was him, the Raijuu’s Strike would take him out in a single hit. So he began to inch closer with every exchange; if there was anything that could tip the scales, it would be his ability in close range.
“I’ve heard the rumours you know?” Gale called out as the distance between them kept steadily shrinking, despite the raging gamut of elemental magic that separated them, “That Lancelot is the better warrior between you two.”
Arthur watched carefully as he sent a few of Caliburn’s enhanced Lightning Knives Gale’s way. They were quick, far quicker than any other attack spell etched upon Caliburn, but they too were dodged.
“What of it?”
Gale continued the pattern of their battle by swinging his circle in a series of quick strokes.
“It just made me wonder,” he grunted, “What makes you think you can defeat me, when even he couldn’t?”
Arthur remained silent as the heavy bolts of lightning crashed against Caliburn one after another. He was not silent out of a reluctance to answer, but simply because he couldn’t formulate a way to properly explain his thoughts.
“Was it perhaps Caliburn?” Gale asked.
Arthur countered with a collection of Rock Spikes this time, “…In part, I suppose, yes. Without Caliburn I would have no way to counter your Raijuu’s Strike. However, it’s more than just that.”
Gale was in no position to ask the obvious question, zipping around as he was to dodge Arthur’s attacks, but they were close enough now for Arthur to notice the narrowed look of curiosity in his eyes anyway.
“In truth, I don’t really know if I can defeat you—but I know that I least have to try. If I don’t, then I feel as though I’ll one day transform into someone unworthy to rule my people.”
“Is that so?” Gale asked, having already begun his retaliation. Arthur could barely hear him over the series of lightning bolts now hammering away at Caliburn. “Then let’s end this, and find out if it was all worth it.”
“I am of the same mind.”
They were close enough now.
Arthur fired a quick Fireball to force Gale to pause in his assault, and then leaped forwards. He raised Caliburn high in the air, letting it sing against the light of the setting sun as he prepared to strike Gale down. A most marvelous sight, he thought almost giddily.
It was over. Gale didn’t have enough time to defend himself; not with Thunder Edge, and more importantly, not with the Raijuu’s Strike either. The battle was won—
And then Thunder Edge upon Gale’s hand shattered, and he swung the circle for the Raijuu’s Strike faster than ever.
Time seemed to slow as Arthur felt his stomach drop with horror: he had forgotten about Thunder Edge’s final effect. He was still in the air, still too far away, and the spell had been aimed too low for Caliburn to reach in time.
A beat.
And then, lightning lit up the world.