An orange light seeped through the gaps between the spearman's fingers. Arthur could see the tightening of his grip on the spear; it was trembling violently. When he removed his hand from his left shoulder, a black, uneven scar had formed, cauterized instantly.
He brought his right hand onto the top of the lance and took the same position he did when they began. This time, now that he had both time and distance, he looked into the Spearman's eyes. Was it always black?
Deep beyond his confidence, Arthur felt an unshakable feeling of doom, and he dared not enter the range of his spear like he did before.
He unconsciously jumped in the opposite direction of the spearman as he felt a strong heat signature from his right.
Six medium-sized, fully identical fireballs came from his left.
Perfectly-formed fireballs in such quantity and in conjunction? Even after three months, Derrick could only create two of the same condition!
When the sixth one shot out, a seventh quickly began forming.
A fireball repeater? How can he maintain a spell for so long?!
Arthur suddenly remembered that the core trait of fireballs that separated them from other fire-spells was their ability to explode on impact. Yet, he had heard no sound remotely similar to an explosion when they struck.
He extended his neck, and his eyes looked as far as they could until the impact zone came into view. His mind raced to find an answer as he saw the Laws of Magic being broken right in front of his eyes.
Without making even the slightest sound or wasted movement, every fireball that the spearman cut with the edge of his spearhead–that was cloaked in the most delicate translucent shadow–split and dissolved into the air with no trace left behind.
How is he nullifying magic? There's nothing surrounding him or his weapon! I saw him create a magic circle. He's a mage! He has to be, so how can he do that?!
The spearman began to move as fireballs continued to be shot out at him, taking a step, and another at three-second intervals. With no one in this room producing any sounds, Arthur could hear for the first time the sounds coming in the distance from the rooms around him.
Cedric, in the middle of the two beds with the wall behind him, began shooting two fireballs at a time. With every two steps the spearman took toward him, he introduced another element to the fight.
Ice spikes, wind blades, and earth lumps. There were four magic circles; he was firing five projectiles every second, but the man's spear effortlessly cut through and negated it all, and Cedric began to tire.
Arthur tried to attack from behind, but every time he attempted it, he was struck by the blunt end of the pole and would have to somehow avoid the projectiles the spearman dodged in order to deal with him.
As the spearman neared, no less than five steps from him, Cedric released all the magic circles.
"Give me your sword!" Cedric shouted.
What? Do you want me to throw it to you? You don't even know how to use it!
Arthur began by trying to calculate the ideal method, but as he saw the spearman take another step, he decided to just apply what calculations he had. He held the sword at the base of the blade, closest to the crossguard, pulled his arm back, and accelerated it forward with as much force as he could, and released it.
It cut through the air tip-first, in a direct path to stab through the back of the spearman's head, but just before reaching, the man leaned to the right, and the sword planted itself into the wall, right where it needed to be.
Cedric pulled the sword out of the wall and held it loosely with one hand. The iris of his eyes seemed to turn black, and the two weapons clashed.
CLANG-CLANG-CLANG!
It was not the same type of clash that Arthur had initiated. No, it was a continuous barrage of attacks from both sides. Metal rang more than five times a second, but it looked like a stalemate; they were on equal footing. Both tried, but failed to drive the other back.
How are they moving so quickly? Even with body aura enhancing their arms, there's no way they could stop all the momentum of one move and make such sharp turns, keeping the same speed even when changing to the complete opposite direction! This isn't just conservation of force through collision; they are literally breaking the Laws of Physics!
And how is Cedric able to fight on equal terms with someone so skilled? Nothing I've ever seen even comes remotely close to this.
"Huff–Huff–Huff–"
This noise suddenly became audible to Arthur, repeating again and again throughout the room. It was coming from the one with his mouth open, whose white pajamas had become transparent-gray from his sweat. And it was growing more desperate.
His movements aren't getting any slower, but from the sound of his breath, he must be at his limit! I have to do something, but I have no weapon…
He looked at the spearman's arms, and then looked at his own.
If I can tackle him down, or hold his arms from moving, Cedric can finish him off.