The deadly dance continued.
Flare of the plasma gauntlet, halberd intercept, strike glanced. The fracture was there but no other strike had landed where Vel wanted.
He fell back two paces, measuring his breath.
Just one clean strike, the plate should give.
The plan was working, but that thing seemed to be adapting, and his body still had to file the cost.
Three buffs ran on him at once. Haste in the blood. Elemental ward humming against his skin. Slow Heal pulsing at the smaller cuts before they could bank into anything serious. Each of them light on its own. Held this long, against this thing, the total had stopped being light.
Every time he swapped the gauntlet, that just added more to the weight.
But one thing was becoming more obvious. The warrior was either guarding the plate, which would make its next move predictable, or it was using the opening as bait, ready to trap him on the approach.
A red flash burned across the lower edge of his vision, the interface flaring with warning.
Celia!
He turned before his discipline could stop him.
She was backing across the sand, each step unsteady, body slumped to ease the pain. One hand pressed below her ribs, green light leaking between her fingers, red beneath. Her face was tight. The wound wasn't fading the way illusion-damage from the tournament charms always did. Any deeper and Celia wouldn't have been standing.
A wave of cold washed down from Vel's head and lodged in his stomach.
She's losing.
But Clara did not stop there.
One heavy step. Clara's body shot forward, sand erupting outward in a ring where she had been. She was already in front of Celia.
The same move she had used on the cultists.
Despite Celia's reflexes, her rapier rose at the last possible instant and met Clara's edge. The force hurled her clear off her feet. She rolled with the impact, a grunt forced out of her as her shoulder hit the sand.
Clara shifted, her body moving forward while the greatsword stayed where the previous arc had ended. She swept it up from behind her and brought it down in a hew.
Celia was only just recovering, a beat late. Even if she could bring the rapier up, a block against that force would not guarantee her safety. She had to roll.
Vel's hand shot up, a support spell already starting. But the spell wasn't coming together fast enough.
I'm too late.
Lyvenna had moved the moment Clara's dash-strike landed.
A single spire of black rock burst from the sand between Clara and Celia, jagged as a spike trap. Clara wrenched back mid-swing.
More spires followed, one by one, extending out in both directions until they closed into a full circle around her. Lightning jumped from tip to tip, locking the spires together in an electric cage.
Celia got back to her feet, the wound below her ribs slowly knitting, breath ragged, eyes wide.
Vel found Lyvenna's gaze across the arena. She was already nodding without taking her eyes off Clara, her hand still raised from the cast.
"Thank you," he mouthed.
Across the arena, Clara moved. She spun in place, the greatsword sweeping a full circle around her, its trail expanding like a moon and shearing every spire along its path. The cage shattered outward.
But Vel had seen something. So had Celia.
While Clara had been trapped, the arcs had not only been jumping between the spires. They had also been connecting to her metal arm, current passing through the limb itself. The damage looked minor. But each time it had surged, her expression had shifted.
That look cost him.
The halberd came down in a full overhead chop, both hands committed, the warrior's whole body weight driving through the line.
Vel barely registered it coming.
"Igni-terra-lea vallum!"
A wall burst up from the sand in front of him. Red molten light glowed in veins through the stone. Tomas's voice, raw with the strain of casting on an emptied pool.
The halberd buried itself deep into the wall, the surface fracturing inward around the blade, then emerged from the back face of the wall and stopped.
Vel was right behind it, close enough that he could see the iridescence along its edge, the same oily shimmer that ran across a beetle's shell.
Vel snapped sideways out of the blade's line, plasma fists raised, putting distance between himself and the warrior before he risked a glance.
Tomas was on one knee at the arena's edge, wand still raised, shoulders shaking. His face was the colour of paper.
Nice cover, Tomas.
The warrior was already wrenching the halberd free, tearing what remained of the stone wall apart in the process. Both hands committed. Body torqued. Recovery window.
Not so fast!
Vel dashed.
He closed the distance in two strides, drove a plasma fist straight at the fracture line on the chest plate. This time the angle held. The strike landed clean.
The crack split wide. A whole panel of upper carapace tore loose along the fracture and fell to the sand, dragging with it strands of pale, slick substance, the same matter that had bound the plate to the skin underneath. The exposed flesh showed pale at the gap, soft and unprotected.
Finally.
Across the arena, lightning cracked.
Three bolts launched from Celia's rapier in close sequence, all of them tracking Clara's metal limb. Trinity Volt. But Clara had already brought her greatsword across her body in a single sweep, a hexagonal lattice of energy blooming along the flat of the blade, six-sided cells stacked dense as honeycomb. The bolts struck the lattice at once. It rippled outward from each impact and absorbed every joule.
An obvious strike will never land on Clara. She's too skilled for that.
Every instinct screamed at Vel to break for Celia. To reach her, see the wound himself, stand beside her against her sister. But the moment he turned his back on the warrior, the insectoid would become a much bigger problem than the one he was already failing to solve.
So he stayed.
Vel turned to face the warrior. One of its eyes was still drifting to the fallen plates on the sand, like it was wondering how such a weak strike could have torn them off.
Either this thing goes down first, or they'll never be able to save Clara.
Vel closed in again. But this time the warrior did not move. It rotated in place, halberd held front, covering the exposed flesh behind its body. Vel feinted, then turned hard for the weak spot. The warrior did not move to the feint either. It guarded only the one place that mattered.
Vel drove the plasma fist at the breach.
The warrior shifted, just enough for the strike to miss its body, and in the same motion the halberd's blade was already rising from below at Vel's face, the warrior's grip short enough on the haft to tear his face apart. Vel jerked his head back by a hair. The halberd spun into reverse just as the upward slash ended, the pommel coming back at him like an approaching arrow.
He folded away, and the weapon went past.
The warrior did not come after him.
Vel broke into a dash, circling at speed.
The insectoid pivoted on the spot, body turning to keep the breach away from him. Vel ran the angle wider, faster, but its rotation was tighter than his curve and the haft was always already where he was going.
But standing here was losing too.
He cut his line short and drove straight in, plasma fist forward.
The warrior stepped in and twisted aside, and Vel's fist sailed past its chest. The blade was already coming down from above. He threw himself sideways and the blade ripped past where his back had been.
Tsk. It's adapting. This is worse than before.
Vel disengaged to about two halberd-lengths and started to cast. The warrior moved at once, closing the gap with a swing. Vel dropped his cast and stepped back, the blade passing in front of him.
It won't attack, but won't give me space either. What is it doing.
He pulled back and reassessed the fight. His own question answered itself.
His buffs were still draining, his gauntlets still manifesting, and the warrior was running the textbook play against any mage: empty their mana, and they were useless.
I need something that can break this deadlock.
He couldn't out-strike the warrior. Every punch had a counter waiting before it landed. An enemy whose specialty was defense, now playing nothing but defense. Brute force was the wrong key.
Vel's chest rose and fell as his mind rerouted toward a new answer.
Flowing River Stance.
He had been using it only to sharpen his reflexes, to guide his dodges and tighten his punches. But reflex was capable of far more than that.
Not evasive. Not rapid strike. Elusive.
High reflex allowed economy. It meant he wasn't supposed to run around the warrior like an idiot. He was supposed to flow around each of its strikes, find the path of least resistance, and follow that path to the target.
That was what Flowing River was.
Vel's steps slowed. His breath stalled. He drew one foot back. The warrior immediately moved one foot forward.
When he had calmed enough, a faint blue line traced out of him, a river only he could see, leading and curving around the insectoid's body.
A predetermined path.
He shot forward. Arms relaxed.
The halberd came in a low swing, cutting straight across his path. Vel flipped his torso aside, and the blade passed an inch from his skin. It came around in a full circle, the warrior's body spinning with it, returning from above. He could almost see the blade's trajectory now. He twisted again, and the halberd combed through air he was already out of.
Two steps, a heel turn like a dancer pivoting around his partner, and Vel flowed from the warrior's front to its flank.
Here came the limbs. He was ready this time. One spin-turn, and each of them came down just next to his shoulder but missed. The halberd's pommel snapped in from the front, riding along the warrior's side, straight at Vel.
He deflected it with one gauntlet, punching it aside. Another heel turn. The other gauntlet built up with the spin and drove straight into the exposed flesh.
The strike landed deep. Blue flame flared blackish-green where it met the soft underlayer, the lack of chitin doing exactly what he had predicted, plasma sinking into tissue with no armor geometry to deflect it. The warrior screeched, a high sharp sound that wasn't the inhuman roar from before. This one had pain in it.
Vel disengaged before the halberd could come back.
The warrior staggered two steps and stopped. The compound eyes fixed on Vel, mandibles clicking once, then twice. Smoke curled up from the strike point, part of the skin charred where the plasma had sunk in.
Something in its posture had changed. The body that had been holding the breach behind the haft with absolute discipline now stood half-turned, exposed, the halberd lowered.
It had just lost on its own defensive game. A mage, if one could call Vel that, had moved past every counter it threw, and the only point of contact had landed exactly where it was protecting.
Yet it didn't take long for the insectoid to straightened its form, head locking onto Vel.
Its eyes had lost that gaze of being challenged. They were now full of killing intent, enough to turn Vel's skin cold.
Then, suddenly, it raised the halberd, not to swing, but to hold it like a javelin.
It threw, and leapt back further at the same time.
Vel was caught flat by the move and only just managed to twist clear. The halberd passed by him and drove into the sand, the blade buried to the haft, the shaft angled in the direction of the throw.
Is it fleeing? No. Doesn't look like that.
But if it was giving him space, then at this distance, a spell would do the job.
Vel raised his palm. Mana began to gather into the shape of a spell.
The halberd twitched.
A crackling noise rose from the haft, like insect mandibles working at speed, and the weapon broke apart. Plates fanned outward. Legs unfurled. The blade folded back into a body. A bug stood where the halberd had been.
What the—
The bug lunged. Vel abandoned the spell, mana dissolving from his palm, and threw himself out of the line.
It flew at him after that. The way a bee or a mosquito would, fast and erratic, lifting on translucent wings to come at him from above and the sides. The needle extruding from its head was long enough to impale him through.
He dodged the first three lunges. On the fourth, just as his fist would have connected with its side, the bug pulled up and broke away. It rose into the air and shot back across the arena toward the warrior.
Vel followed it with his eyes.
A figure stood on the other end of the arena. For a second, Vel almost did not recognize it.
The insectoid had stripped away most of its armor. Plates lay scattered across the sand, the last one coming away with strings of slick connective substance still trailing from it.
The body beneath was leaner than before. Sleek muscle layered between narrow joints. Iridescent black chitin caught the lights in shifting bands of oil-like color.
Then the warrior grabbed one of its own arms. With a violent pull, it tore the limb free at the shoulder.
Green fluid splashed across the sand.
The severed arm hit the ground with a wet thud while the stump convulsed once. Veins burst outward from the wound, twisting around each other as new flesh rapidly formed over the exposed joint.
The shape narrowed.
Curved.
Sharpened.
The final form was a wickedly curved blade. A mantis's forearm.
No way...
The bug landed against the warrior's back and unfolded. The body flattened. Long translucent wings deployed in four panels with a sharp metallic crack, paired upper and lower, the way a dragonfly's wings sat.
The air around the warrior vibrated.
Only now did Vel understand.
It had not been losing. It had been testing him.
The armor, the heavier frame, even the slower movements. All of it had been deliberate. A restraint.
And now it had decided he was worth removing it.
Vel slowly tightened his grip on the sword. His chest rose and fell once as he forced his thoughts back into focus.
If it can regenerate that fast... where's the limit? Could the body keep rebuilding forever?
The creature lowered itself into stance.
The killing intent pouring from it felt completely different now. Earlier, the fight had resembled a duel between warriors measuring each other.
That feeling was gone.
This was no longer an exchange between two fighters testing who possessed the greater skill.
One mistake now would decide who would be the first to fall.
The wings blurred. They lifted the general off the sand, its body tilting forward, and with a single beat it launched toward Vel. Mantis arm extended like a scythe ready to harvest.
"Aeris Sylphar Discaris!" Vel called out, channeling his mana.
A disk of green energy materialized before him, spinning rapidly before launching toward the insect warrior. The mantis veered left, then sharply cut back right, its translucent wings buzzing as they redirected its body around the spell.
Vel continued casting, sending spell after spell in rapid succession. Each projectile missed by inches as the mantis kept circling, body weaving past each one while closing the distance.
Then, when it was close enough, the flying creature charged in a straight line directly at Vel.
Vel's hands moved instinctively. "Glacis Expulsa Ventaris!"
A blast of freezing wave pulsed out in an arc in front of him, the air whitening as it expanded. It hit the charging mantis and pushed the creature back. Just a few paces. Not enough to stop it.
A continuous cold current kept streaming from Vel's palm. The wings still beat, still pushed the mantis forward, its body straining against the freezing wave, gaining ground in inches. Rime crystallized over its exoskeleton, spires growing along the chitin where the current struck.
Then the creature twisted its mantis blade.
The mantis suddenly spun, its whole body rotating with the blade extended outward. The rime cracked and shook loose as the rotation accelerated. It had become a rapid spinning sawblade, cutting through the freezing current toward the source.
Vel's eyes widened as the creature closed in, his spell no longer holding it.
"Lux Santorum Aeghis!"
A circular wall of pure light materialized around Vel. The mantis's spin stopped short on impact, the blade piercing a hole through the light barrier like an ice pick through glass.
Both of them looked at the impact, then locked eyes in an instant. For Vel, it was death escaped. For the insect, it was something like surprise.
Without hesitation, Vel directed his next spell at the ground beneath the creature.
"Ignis Ascendis!"
A pillar of flame erupted from below, aimed to engulf the general while it was immobilized. But the creature reacted with impossible speed, wrenching its blade free from the barrier and flying backward just as the flames licked at its exoskeleton.
The creature tilted its head, compound eyes reflecting Vel's image back at him. It seemed to be studying him with an alien intelligence that sent chills down his spine.
Is it wondering about my ability? Vel thought. The way it paused after witnessing his multi-elemental casting. This thing was analyzing him, adapting its strategy with each exchange.
Vel glanced around frantically. How could he fight such a creature? This was the kind of threat that should require a full party of adventurers working in concert.
His gaze darted to Celia and Lyvenna. They had their hands full with Clara, both of them keeping their distance now. Celia had abandoned direct engagement, resorting to ranged lightning attacks while Lyvenna provided support. Their faces showed clear fatigue, movements growing slower with each exchange.
Tomas leaned against a pillar, still recovering from complete mana drain. His wand hung limply at his side, useless without magical energy to channel through it.
Vel felt his own reserves depleting. Despite his well-prepared mana pool, maintaining the elemental gauntlets while casting multiple spells was taking its toll. He was already down to half capacity, and the insect warrior showed no signs of tiring.
We're fighting separately against opponents designed to work as a team. That's why we're losing.
The generals complemented each other's abilities. Together, they would be nearly unstoppable. Divided, they remained formidable.
If this continued, they were done for. One by one, they would fall as their stamina and mana reserves emptied.
Vel stole a glance toward the barrier surrounding the arena. Through its translucent surface, he could make out flashes of magic, reds, blues, and whites erupting against the shimmering wall. The combined forces outside were hammering at the Demon Lord's creation, desperate to break through.
But will they make it in time? Or will we all be dead before they breach it?
In a far corner of the arena, the cult leader lay slumped against the wall where Lyvenna had set him before joining the fight, his body still unconscious from the Demon Lord's grip.
A sudden pulse from the pocket dimension drew Vel's attention. The blue sphere containing Elyssia and the Demon Lord rippled once before settling back to its previous state. The disturbance lasted only a moment, but it hadn't happened before.
Something's changed in there.
If Elyssia fell, what hope did the rest of them have? They could barely hold their own against the generals, facing the Demon Lord himself would be impossible.
"If only I could access that power again," he muttered, recalling the ice phoenix that had manifested. But trying to force it felt like grasping at smoke. The more he reached, the more it slipped away.
Soon he'd face a choice. Keep fighting until total depletion, or fall into slumber mode by lethal blow or from over-casting.
The thought made his chest tighten. Being saved by the system did not mean free of its consequence. What if he woke up a week later, or even a month, only to discover everyone was dead? Or the Demon Lord had succeeded in whatever catastrophic plan he'd set in motion?
No. I can't let that happen.
The insect general charged in again.
I need to find a way before committing the rest of my mana.
So he banked on his reflex, the Flowing River Stance. The blade came in lightning fast, even with enhanced sensory, Vel still barely saw it coming.
One cut, one twist, another one, deflect.
It was like playing a deadly rhythm game where one mistake meant death, the song getting longer and longer with no end or break, no matter how exhausted he felt.
Think. What do we have that they don't?
Vel ducked under another sweep of the mantis blade, and something at the edge of his sight flashed. Each of his friends had one.
Protective charms.
Elyssia's charm. It kept the wearers from harming each other. But not the generals.
If they could cast a spell powerful enough to take both down, but not so strong that it killed Celia's sister. They might survive this. But there would not be a second chance.
Vel turned toward Lyvenna, who was maintaining a defensive barrier to protect Tomas.
How could he communicate his plan without the generals catching on, let alone explain what each of them needed to do?
Another strike swept past. Vel flipped into a butterfly twist backward, the blade passing under him.
"Glacis Novare!"
He drove his gauntlet into the ground as he landed. A disk of frozen blast swept outward, curving up at its edge. The insect general skidded back, the frozen surface coating the point of contact.
"Tomas! The charms! Tell Lyvenna to put it on!"
He immediately returned to the dance.
Tomas blinked, then his face shifted as the implication landed. He turned and called to the others.
Vel kept the mantis occupied while Tomas's voice carried across the arena to Lyvenna and beyond. The mantis pressed in faster than before, exploiting the split in Vel's focus. Another strike came down, and Vel barely twisted under it. He needed more time, more space, another window.
"Aeris Pulsis!" A blast of compressed air burst from Vel's palms and shoved the mantis back across the sand, opening enough room for his voice to carry.
"I need everyone to use their most powerful spell on my signal! Tell Celia to follow up and regroup right after!"
Vel darted away again, occupying the mantis warrior.
Tomas caught the message and turned to Lyvenna, repeating it. Lyvenna nodded once, then called across the arena toward Celia.
Across the arena, Celia called back through the noise of combat.
"What about my sister?!"
"Don't worry!" Vel shouted, keeping his focus on the fight. "Trust me!"
Lyvenna pulled a spare charm from inside her coat. As an instructor, she had carried extras on her.
But the man at the edge had no such protection.
Is it my call to sacrifice someone on my judgement, even if that person done bad things?
Lyvenna caught his troubled expression and followed his line of sight. Without a word, her hands moved, forming the same protective dome spell that tournament officials used to shield eliminated contestants. The translucent barrier shimmered into existence around the cult leader.
Vel realized, despite the situation they were in, she had chosen to save her father even if he did not deserve it, even if it diverted her focus and drained her mana when every spell counted.
No time left for second thoughts.
The insect general's compound eyes flickered, reflecting Vel's image as if sensing the shift in strategy, but its blade never broke rhythm. Clara's form also shifted. Her movements carried more calculation, despite her face expressing nothing.
Vel spun in place to dodge a downward slice of the mantis claw. At the end of the spin, he focused his energy toward the gauntlet.
"Aeris Dualis!"
Twin gusts erupted between Vel and the mantis, hurling them in opposite directions across the sand. Vel rolled with the throw and came up planted, hands already moving into the next cast.
He channeled mana into a binding spell. "Glacis Solith Feryis!"
Pools of ice formed below each general and surged up, seizing them from the waist down in jagged crystalline chunks. But a basic spell like this would not hold.
Not enough. I need something else.
A sharp intake of breath. He remembered. The prince's spell.
Vel slammed both gauntlets together. "Resonex Aeryx Stalix!"
A wave of distortion rippled outward from his gauntlets in concentric rings, racing across the sand. The air itself vibrated, the tremor in it felt like the shaking of an earthquake. Both generals immediately shifted to balance their footing.
"Now!"
Lyvenna immediately began her incantation, her hands weaving complex patterns as wind started to swirl around her. "Terr-aer-lea anexare vortum!"
Beside her, Tomas raised his wand with trembling hands. His face was pale with exhaustion, but determination burned in his eyes as he channeled his last reserves of mana. "Igni-terra-lea iter!"
Across the battlefield, Celia had created distance between herself and Clara. Her rapier hummed with crackling energy, sparks dancing along its length. Her stance was a drawn bowstring, holding the moment just before release.
Vel raised both hands. Fire and lightning twisted into the casting circle between his palms, the flame stripping into white where the current ran through it, the air around it warping with heat.
"Magna Plasimus Luxignis Novare!"
The spell erupted from his palms just as the ice restraints shattered. A blindingly bright sphere of superheated, electrically charged plasma expanded outward with devastating force. Simultaneously, Lyvenna's massive dust devil formed, and molten rocks materialized in midair from Tomas's final spell.
The three spells found each other in the same space. The plasma surge poured into the tornado's vortex, electric arcs spiraling up its column. Tomas's molten rocks caught the wind too and became a hail of glowing projectiles spinning around the funnel. What had started as three separate spells became one storm, a cyclone of plasma, fire, and stone tearing across the center of the arena.
The light was too intense for Vel to see through, forcing him to shield his eyes.
Through the chaos, Celia executed her Thundercrash technique, partially transforming into lightning itself. She bounced from Clara to the insect general in a zigzagging path of electrical energy. Did the generals have time to react or deflect the strike? Vel couldn't tell through the blinding light.
His focus shifted entirely to his interface, where Clara's status had appeared. He watched it intently, ready to intervene if it dropped to critical levels. He wouldn't let Celia lose her sister again, not after everything they'd been through.
Hang in there, Clara.
The charms held, converting the lethal damage to pain illusion. Vel felt the plasma burn across his skin, the lightning's numbing bite, the cut of molten shards opening through him. Every nerve registered the death his body was being spared.
One by one, the protective charms cracked under the strain. Just as Vel had expected. Fracture lines spread across his own charm, spiderwebbing through the magical construct. Similar cracks appeared on Celia's and Lyvenna's charms.
Lyvenna struggled to maintain her dome around the cult leader, her face contorted with effort. The shield wavered, becoming increasingly transparent as her mana reserves depleted. Just as the last of the plasma's energy dissipated, her barrier shattered completely.
The blinding light gradually faded, revealing the aftermath of their desperate gambit.
The arena's sandy floor had been transformed. Where loose grains once shifted beneath their feet, now strange, undulating waves of glass stretched toward the edges, still cooling from the superheat, their surface shimmering with residual heat.
Both generals lay motionless on opposite sides of the arena. Clara's metallic arm sparked occasionally, overloaded by the plasma discharge. The insect warrior's exoskeleton had blackened, its compound eyes no longer reflecting light.
Celia staggered toward Vel, barely able to stand. Her rapier dragged along the ground, arm too weak to properly lift it. Behind her, Tomas lay sprawled unconscious, his wand several feet away where it had fallen from his limp fingers. Lyvenna remained on her knees, breathing heavily, utterly spent.
At the edge of the arena, the cult leader still lay unconscious, untouched by the destruction. Her dome had held just long enough.
"Are you ok?" Vel asked as Celia slowly approached.
"Did we get them?" she whispered, her voice hoarse.
Vel's breath came in rapid, deep gulps as his eyes scanned for any movement.