Lakayla flexed the wrist of the hand that held her wand, her gaze cold and dismissive as she looked across at the two dark-robed wizards before her.
"So… you're the witches and wizards raised by the Kalembo tribe?" she sneered. "Well, perhaps I wasn't such a hopeless headmistress after all. At least I never sent any of you a Dream Messenger token."
Before her words had fully faded, Lakayla struck first, wand flashing as she launched herself into battle against the two black-robed adversaries. Her intention was clear and swift: finish them as quickly as possible, then rush to Wentworth's side.
Meanwhile, Juma raised his voice and barked a command to the other Kalembo tribe wizards surrounding them:
"No one interferes until our duel is settled. Anyone who does, dies!"
Then he turned to face Wentworth. The two locked eyes, and almost in unison, raised their wands in the formal gesture of a duel. Juma smirked.
"Wentworth," he said, "let me share a secret with you. The tribe's original order was to kill you, and frame Uagadou for it. But I changed that plan. I chose to face you myself. No need to thank me."
Wentworth blinked in surprise. He hadn't expected his offhand remark earlier to be true. So the Kalembo tribe had never intended for him to leave Uagadou alive.
But before he could gather his thoughts—
"Spiritus Dissolutum!"
Juma attacked with brutal suddenness.
Fortunately, Wentworth had spent his entire holiday sparring with a Norwegian Ridgeback named Nibelungen. He'd learned long ago that you couldn't expect a dragon to politely announce it was about to strike.
"Finite Incantatem Maxima!"
Wentworth countered, dissolving the incoming curse. He frowned.
"A soul-rending curse? That's rare, even in Europe."
Juma chuckled and raised his wand to the sky. Instantly, heavy black clouds began to swirl above them, casting their battlefield into shadow. Faint flickers of light shimmered ominously within.
He raised one hand skyward and declared:
"This is Uagadou, Wentworth. Africa's Uagadou. Look, the skies are angry!"
As Juma brought his wand crashing down, a massive serpent of lightning surged from the clouds above, roaring as it twisted downward, straight at Wentworth.
The sheer majesty of the spell caused even the surrounding Kalembo wizards to flinch and shut their eyes instinctively.
Even Lakayla, still dueling the two robed wizards, gasped in alarm.
"This isn't magic taught at Uagadou!" she murmured. "And no one that young should be able to cast a spell like that!"
Her brief distraction proved costly. A flash of light caught her off guard. Though she managed to twist away just in time to avoid a lethal blow, the curse grazed her arm. Blood immediately gushed from the wound.
Now wounded, Lakayla dared not divide her attention again. She could only pray that Wentworth would survive, because if he fell, Uagadou wouldn't just have to face the Kalembo tribe…
It would have to face the Alliance as well.
And that would mean the end of Uagadou.
Back on the battlefield, Wentworth eyed the thunderous silver serpent descending toward him. He sighed and shook his head.
"So that's it?" he said, almost disappointed. "I thought it was some brilliant new enchantment. Turns out, it's just a variant of a Weather Charm. Impressive, but ultimately predictable."
He raised his wand and pointed it at the ground, drawing a slow, deliberate circle.
A whirlwind erupted around him.
A tornado, filled with swirling dust and sharp-edged stones, surged upward with incredible force, reaching toward the heavens.
The silver lightning serpent, still roaring, dove straight into the heart of the storm. Even through the debris, its trajectory remained true, it was still coming.
But the tornado continued to rise, a force of nature in its own right, spiraling up toward the black clouds above.
Then, at the moment the storm pierced the heart of the clouds—
It collapsed inward.
In a blink, the storm, the thunderclouds, the lightning serpent, they were gone, swallowed whole by the tempest.
Clear skies returned. Blue and bright. The sun shone once more.
Only then did the Kalembo witches and wizards, who had been tossed about by wind and blinded by lightning, finally regain their balance and stand upright again.
In the eye of the storm, Wentworth and Juma still stood exactly where they had been, staring each other down.
The onlookers exchanged bewildered glances. None of them had the slightest clue what had just happened.
But inside the ring, the emotions between the two duelists could not have been more different.
Juma slowly shook his head.
"What a shame. I was so close…"
Wentworth gave a calm, amused smile.
"You really think I'd just stand there waiting to get struck if I wasn't sure my magic would outpace yours?"
"Magic's flashy, sure," he continued, voice steady. "But let me give you a piece of advice, if you live long enough to use it. An elder once told me: magic is a weapon."
"I'll admit," Wentworth added, "using Weather Magic like that? Shows real talent for spell development. But the execution? Bit too slow. By the time the clouds form and lightning falls, a smart wizard's already countered it."
Juma gave a crooked, rueful smile.
"Alright. I'll admit I miscalculated. I never imagined you'd be that fast, both in reaction and spellwork. And I definitely didn't expect you to see through the enchantment so quickly."
At that, both men laughed softly, and raised their wands again, in perfect synchrony.
"Ventus Fragmenta!"
"Sectum Obscura!"
As Wentworth and Juma's duel reached new heights, another figure emerged at the base of Mount Moon—staggering, limping.
It was Nala Nwadike, fresh from the hidden chamber beneath the headmistress's office at Uagadou.
She squinted up into the sun, her skin prickling under the heat, eyes frantic as she searched the wilderness.
Every second counted. She knew that.
She breathed deeply, desperately trying to catch even the faintest trace of someone, anyone. But the air carried no unfamiliar scents. Nothing.
Then, in her haste, she tripped over a stone and crashed to the ground, clutching her twisted ankle in pain.
She sat there, on the verge of tears, when suddenly—
A gentle, elegant voice spoke from nearby:
"My, my… what a poor girl. Do you need help?"
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TN: This fanfic has been fully translated and is available on my Patreon —— patreon(.)com/PrimalDemon [remove the parentheses ( )]