Immediately, I stomped my foot, extending my arms outwards, and conjuring a partial [Ice Encasement] around us both. Thick walls of ice materialized with us in the center, the ceiling forming a dome.
The chilly mist emanating from it seemed to dim his flames, if only by a nigh-imperceptible hue, and I could see his eyes flickering warily.
I didn't build upon the rest of that spell, knowing that it would drain a chunk of my mana reserves, but also because I hadn't the space or time for it yet.
Instead, I stuck to what I knew, at least theoretically—something I'd been practicing for a while in hopes of testing out one day.
An unasked question lingered on his tongue as he met my gaze, and I spoke before he did, smirking all the way, my tone light.
"Ah, this? It's nothing really, just something I've been wanting to try out. But oh, don't worry, you're in my domain now, so… I'll make sure to take good care of you."
Spellframes materialized, and projectiles flew—my own Crystalline Barrage.
Master Harghen's eyes widened as he summoned a scorching wall of flames to counter it.
The moment the two met, the world exploded into a rush of hissing steam that billowed between us, a fog rolling across the shattered stones at our feet. And suddenly… the world went silent.
My vision narrowed as the scalding hot steam brushed against my skin, burning my lungs, and I conjured a thin sheet of ice across the exposed parts of my body.
Crap…! I can't see through all of this… Where did he go?!
For a brief moment, I considered a myriad of possibilities, most of which included getting ambushed through the steam from any direction.
Which was bad on its own, but it wasn't as if I needed to simply sit here and wait…
…That's it!
The cogs in my mind shifted, bringing me a new perspective on the situation, and I swept my hand, gathering the residual traces of water hidden within the mist, shaping them into razor-sharp points.
I waited for a sign of my opponent before releasing them, eyes quickly scanning the arena.
Damn it. The mist is too thick for even me to see through, courtesy of the Ice Encasement.
Wait. Unless… maybe… maybe if I concentrate—
"Fire ball!"
I spun on my heel, meeting a giant ball of flames face-too-face.
My mind worked quickly to solve the solution, plan at the ready, mana tingling as it grew closer and closer, before…
"Combust!"
It exploded.
The waves of heat rolled over me, and I was sent crashing against the arena floor, scraping parts of my hands and feeling them already begin to bleed and bruise.
Coupled that with the throbbing pain from my ankle that still held its place in the backdrop of my mind—forcing it to the front with the rest now—and, while not particularly lethal or deadly, made a combo that would definitely affect my ability to fight.
Ah, that hurts…. Just when could he do that, damn it?!
I forced myself up, recovering relatively quickly, a burning sensation scarring my palms.
There was no time for reprieve, however, as he was already beginning to make his way towards me, spellframes materializing.
Ignis, Parvus, Densus, Duratus…
Wait. Is that…?
Quickly grabbing my sword, which rested not too far from me, I released the spell, swiping my arm.
Blades of condensed water droplets shot forward in varying motions; unpredictable staccato bursts.
His eyes scanned the arena and he brought his rapier around in order to defend himself, catching on.
The first batch went for his chest, being met with his blade and dispersing, meanwhile the other two nicked at his ankles and knees, respectively.
So, I'm a bit spiteful, so what?
Bastard…
He ducked, parried, and sidestepped, allowing the trails of flame emitting from his sword to promptly evaporate them, never allowing a single one to collide with him.
…Or at least, that was, until a certain lingering one managed to connect right as he turned around to continue his stride.
Which was odd, to say the least.
Not only did that final one look entirely different—as if it wasn't even meant to do very much damage, at most simply result in a minor sting—but it was also composed of something entirely different as well.
Regular water magic.
Nothing shaped from residual water droplets. There was a finite difference, but it was a difference, nonetheless.
And as such, Master Harghen didn't expect it, only noticing it at the last possible second.
Immediately as it hit, a burst of a thin, concentrated and unseen plating of fire-attribute magic exploded outwards, protecting him.
It was an unseen armor—and one that had almost led me to a grave situation, earlier.
I smirked, seeing this.
So, I was correct.
It's a one-time thing, and something he has to also manually conjure up every time—dispersing whenever he receives any type of damage or interaction.
As for the details, like what interactions qualify as "danger", we'll call it, I'm unsure of, but it was important information, nonetheless.
That's what the spellframes from a moment ago meant.
An annoyed scowl creased the lines of his face, and I felt his frustration from here.
In the next second, his eyes met mine, and he began his dash once more.
I sprinted at him, body and bones aching, but a renewed vigor lighting me forth—ribbons of electricity trailing my sword.
I unleashed them in the form of a projectile right before our blades met, but he sidestepped it and it hit the barrier behind us instead.
It fell into a brief undulating motion to accommodate for the intensity of the spell, struggling to disperse it for a split second; not the first of our spells to wear down the barrier, and most certainly not the last.
Flames flared from his rapier in an elegant crescent swing, and the biting chill of my conjured frost met the sweltering force of his attacks, an elemental war being waged at close quarters.
The pinnacle of what a close-range conjurer's battle should be like.
Our swords rang into a sustained note..
The arena's stone began to crack underneath our feet, shards spinning out where water froze and refroze, where spells met and interacted, and where blades clangored and clashed.
Absolute battle clarity had overcome me, and my mind was razor-sharp, planning defenses and counter-attacks in mere instances.
This is it… Flow state.
Every movement came to me on instinct, my sword and magic feeling less like trained actions, and more like something that's always existed with me as extensions of myself.
By now my Ice Encasement had already dissipated, as well as the mist, leaving a particularly thick puddle of water to cover a decent portion of the arena, which was currently where we were fighting.
It wasn't long before more parts of the arena floor cracked under our relentless assaults, bigger cracks beginning to creep outwards, splitting beneath the ice slicks and scorch marks.
With each missed spell—which we were going back-and-forth with—it only worsened, and soon, even the barrier that separated us from the onlookers began to flicker, pulsing with excess energy as our strays ricocheted, wavering with each explosive clash.
At the corners of my vision, I distantly registered the expressions of the examiners who sat up sharply their alcoves, exchanging urgent glances; their quiet panic felt, rather than heard.
…At least for others who didn't possess senses as sharp as my own.
I heard every word, every syllable, every enunciation clearly as if there wasn't a barrage of magic spells clashing right next to me. It was only a matter of whether or not I decided to split my focus to hear, or continue absorbed in my battle.
Well that, and whether or not I possessed the mental capacity to register both events at the same time whilst remembering.
Sadly, I didn't.
But I heard just enough to get the picture.
"Lady Nuela! We must hurry!"
"That barrier.. It won't last much longer!"
"Everyone, prepare to reinforce it with your mana! We'll only have a short window to do so. Sir Mandel, please access the control panel."
"Damn it, just what the hell is that guy doing…? Why must he always go to such lengths!? Just who even is this examinee?!"
It was only when a stray fragment of my ice struck at the edge of the barrier and sent a pulse of cold through the stands that they promptly sprang into action.
It shimmered briefly during the lull in our strikes—a coordinated, conscious effort, I'm sure, as a way to basically recalibrate it without it taking any damage during the process—before it suddenly became more defined, dense, and opaque.
The next spell that collided with it dissipated in a hiss of sparks.
Thankfully, it was just in time.
My mana had dipped low from the use of divergent magic, beneath a comfortable amount, and my body was fatigued beyond anything ever before, my muscles even twitching.
A silver core didn't matter much if I was consuming the mana at an extreme rate…
Had I still been a bronze, I'd have suffered from backlash much earlier.
Master Harghen's flames had seemed to dull, as well, though they still cast ghostly shadows over the ruined stones. But though his magic waned, if only by a bit, the look in his eyes didn't by a tiny amount. He seemed thoroughly entertained and amused.
And I had to admit… so was I.
He stepped forward, sending a spiral of flames that I countered by conjuring a reflective arc of ice—bringing rise to a worm of thought that settled much earlier.
The fire split around the shield, half going above it, and half gouging a furrow into the stones at our feet, and when it was over, I counter-attacked, falling into a seamless motion of movements that worked with one another, not against.
He danced around each strike lightly, getting in a few counter hits now that my body began to tire, my pained ankle catching up to me.
Each movement of his was reserved, wasting no energy, and so I endeavored to do the same, mirroring him. A lot easier said than done, though I already possessed this skill, just not to the same extent as him.
Sensing an opportunity, I let electricity snake down my arms and into the water puddle we stood on, drawing arcs between droplets, and making the arena flash with blue-white sparks.
Master Harghen caught on, jumping clear as the burst went out, and onto a safe section of the arena. Tiredly, I did the same, keeping a great distance between us.
We stood amidst the ruin, floor scorched, scarred, and marked, residual heats and cold lingering in the air, and unusual, indescribable scents assaulting our senses.
My lungs were inflamed as I landed, unwilling to allow my poise and demeanor to diminish because of it. I was a prince, after all, and I would show it.
He seemed to catch on to this, his eyes tracing my movements and outlining my figure, curiosity lined within them.
I met him with a dire look of my own, communicating something silently. Intrigue, confusion, and slight reluctance all reflected back at me, slowly giving way to a gradual acceptance and understanding. It was time for the final bout.
One last attack that would officially put an end to this.
It wouldn't be the last reserves of my power, no, but it would be the last amount of it that I could afford to spend. Which was already quite close to the end itself.
I inhaled a deep breath, letting go of everything that held on to me up until this point.
The pain, the results, the experience, the feelings—everything that I could.
Except for my connection to the mana. For a brief moment I looked up, taking in the sight of the chilly winter atmosphere.
The sky was a pale wash of pastel colors; blue-gray with a streak of sunlight coming through it, soft and heavy. Snowflakes drifted down, catching the light and reflecting it beautifully into fractures, like feathers released from invisible wings.
A gust of wind stirred, too, carrying with it hints of pine, smoke, chill, and everything else that my nose was now receptive enough to pick up on, but I was not knowledgeable enough to know about.
The calm was relaxing, vivid, and brilliant—a brief moment of respite that I needed.
The sky…
It's quite beautiful today.
Exhaling, I drew on more reserves of my mana, transmuting the particles with my will.
The air seemed to thrum with a living pulse as electricity tendrils surged around me with newly renewed vigor—eating away at a large chunk of my reserves.
It would leave me with just enough to still fight an extra battle, though, if needed… which was most likely needed. At least probably, anyways.
I concentrated all of it to a singular point—my right hand. My sword retreated into my ring in a whirlwind of sparks.
"Thunderclaw."
A moment later, Master Harghen released a similarly concentrated type of spell, one that concentrated all of his flames into a film around his sword, only this time it was much more of a grand sight. Heatwaves spilled forth, and I felt a bead of sweat roll down my neck.
We crouched… and then exploded into motion.
All of this happened within the span of ten seconds, as we quickly crossed the distance between us, eyes locked on each other.
…For a second, it felt as if we had both resigned ourselves to tragic fates with these spells—as if we had gotten too caught up in the rank examination and, instead, treated each other as actual opponents.
As we grew closer to each other, we struck with determination… but never hit each other.
…What?
I suddenly found myself restricted in an encasing of earth-attribute magic, unable to move as my right arm was thrown off balance and impeccably frozen over—in a way that seemed to dim out my own spell.
Four figures flashed between us, two moving to my side, the others to his.
In a split instance, we were both trapped and bounded in a combination of spells, eyes widening with realization as our spells fizzled out due to the perfect counters.
"This examination has gone on long enough," a commanding voice spoke. "You both forget yourselves."
Time seemed to lurch to an abrupt halt as the stands let out the breaths they'd been holding, relief and anxiety spilling over the crowds.
I looked up and was met with the fierce gazes of the examiners, silent and unyielding. Like they'd come to judge me at my lowest moment.
…Except they weren't aimed at me. I could only see the backs of the two in front of me, meanwhile the others seemed to have to use extra force in order to contain Master Harghen.
He struggled in vain.
Their frustrated, disdainful voices rang out.
"Damn bastard."
"You seriously screwed up this time…"
"You would dare to use such an attack?!"
"Despicable. I didn't think you to be the type, Master Harghen."
Soon, a graceful figure stepped in between them, finding her space naturally.
Her voice rose, parting through the tension like a knife.
"Master Hargen. Examine Crownless," she began, meeting both of our gazes, "Do forgive me, but I believe this to be a most crucial moment to intrude on. This rank examination—if you could even call it that—has gone too far. And while it is expected of the examinee to present their utmost strength and abilities, so that we may accurately gauge their ranking, it is not in our policy to go to such lengths as an examiner."
Lady Nuela's words landed with utmost precision, like a blade that never missed. I could see his expression falter at this, regret washing over him.
"You have broken and disregarded many of the rules put into play by the Adventurer's Guild and Association, putting not only the life of the onlookers into danger, but also that of our examinee. And for this, you will be delivered a swift punishment."
She glanced at the other examiner restraining him, nodding her head. "Take him away."
They threw some type of cuffs on his hands as they righted him, escorting him out of the arena.
…As he left, wordlessly, he shot one last glance at me, layered with indescribable emotion.
One that reeked of pure, despicable hatred and resentment. I shuddered slightly. My life was… in danger? I… I hadn't even known. …Maybe I did, but I didn't care enough? As these thoughts filtered through my mind, struggling with the sudden escalation of events, I belatedly realized I was no longer restrained, and Lady Nuela turned to me, bringing me back to reality.
"Examine Crownless. For your splendid showcase of abilities and combat, you have been assigned as a B-minus-rank adventurer. Congratulations."
The crowd broke into a roar.