"Nicholas Crowley vs Emile Lusitanie"

The crimson letters hovered in the air above the arena for a moment before fading away at Lasazar's lazy hand gesture.

"Finalists, please join me."

Nick took his time. His mana reserves weren't particularly depleted, and he was confident he could squeeze out a win by using his more dangerous spells if it came down to it, but something about this Emile was making him cautious.

He managed to disrupt Penelope's spell without doing anything visible. This means he either has a superior elemental affinity, which I doubt since water magic is her main focus, or he has a way to influence mana cohesion from a distance.

If it had been an active spell, Nick was sure he would have seen it. [Empyrean Intuition] was tailor-made to detect esoteric effects like that, after all.

Which left only two options. Either he had done something before the duel could start—essentially cheating—or he possessed a Trait that allowed him to nullify magic. Something similar to [Blasphemy].

The first explanation was the most beneficial for Nick. He believed his complete control over his magic would prevail if it came to that.

But if it was the second time, and Emile was more like him than he seemed... Then he might be in for an actual fight, especially since the blonde was at least ten levels above him.

If this were a fight to the death and I had time to prepare, ten levels wouldn't be anything to worry about. But it isn't, and I can't prep the field in advance. No, this will be a very direct confrontation. The kind that any good Occultist knows to avoid.

Yet, the prize dangled before him was simply too tempting to give up now. No, any damage that revealing more of his darker magics might do to his reputation was far less important than the chance to learn anything he wanted from a Prestige mage, especially one dedicated to battle magic.

And it doesn't hurt that the more intimidating I seem, the less likely anyone is to mess with me at the auction.

So far, his sales of thunderhoofs had gone smoothly, earning him nearly five hundred gold coins, and that was with most Matriarchs held in reserve. Still, both Mr. Bloom and One-Ear had reported an increase in activity in the seedier parts of Alluria, as people took notice of where the flow of money was going.

His apprenticeship under Archmage Tholm explained the absence of assassins and thieves so far, but greed could only be held back for so long, especially as the auction drew nearer.

"Now, boys, I'm sure you're both eager to get to it, but if you'll allow me to say a few words, I'd appreciate it," Lasazar told them when they joined him, and there wasn't much either could say to that.

"Wonderful," their teacher smiled before turning to the rest of the students, "What an amazing tournament this has been, and the grand finale only promises to wow us even more. I have to say, I wasn't expecting such a competitive show, but that only makes me more hopeful for the future of the Tower. If students with just a few weeks of lessons under their belt can match those who have been here for a year, then the best is truly yet to come. Now, without further ado, let's get the final match started!"

Though Lasazar had moved on quickly and his smile never wavered in its intensity, his eyes revealed he wasn't as pleased as his words claimed.

No, if anything, he appeared to think that the second year's performance was embarrassing, and Nick could see that realization spread among the older students.

He's making it clear that even if Emile wins here, there will be a lot of sweat and tears in their near future. Well, I can't say I care enough to throw the fight.

Taking his position, Nick let go of all distractions and concentrated on his opponent.

Emile looked like a stereotypical pretty boy, if with a bit more muscle than could be expected from a mage. He was also clearly noble-born, judging by the emerald ring around his finger stamped with a feline of some kind.

His duels so far had been quick and to the point. He'd either disrupted or overwhelmed his opponents with a series of simple, well-executed spells that revealed little of his true skill.

Despite the restrictions he placed on himself, he never took a single hit, let alone lost his rhythm in battle. If anything, that showed Nick he was a skilled duelist.

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Until the last match, I would have said he was a generalist, very capable of adapting to his opponent, but without specific areas of expertise. But that's no longer true. Penelope was tired, but she still had enough mana to sustain her water beam.

On the other side of the field, Emile watched him with a thin smile. He didn't seem very nervous, but Nick could tell he was determined to win. I shouldn't underestimate him.

"Begin!"

A hail of [Jet Streams] roared into existence, crossing the battlefield with a whistle, only to collide with an invisible barrier, leaving only thin cracks as most of their energy was disrupted on impact.

A dispelling shield of some kind?

It seemed very similar to what he had devised in the previous fight, but Nick didn't feel confident enough to call it yet.

[Spirit Blasts] followed, driven by both annoyance to disrupt Emile's magic and battlelust, hiding among the larger group.

Sadly, he couldn't collect more data because Emile was no longer there. Instead, he reappeared on the other side of the battlefield as the Tower's magic shimmered around him.

For a moment, Nick wondered if it was already over, but quickly realized it wasn't the wards that had interfered; rather, Emile himself had used the Tower's magic as a reference point to teleport.

The magic he'd used was simpler than what Tholm employed to move around Alluria, but it was also very refined, enough so that Nick knew it had to be at least at [Proficient] level.

A spatial mage, then? I know there are courses for that for the older apprentices, but I didn't think real teleportation would be possible for those below Prestige.

Clearly, he'd been incorrect in his assumption. But whether Emile was a prodigy in the art, or it was only possible because they were inside the Tower, didn't matter. The entire duel had just become a lot more difficult.

"Let's see how long you can keep that up," Nick muttered as he unleashed an even larger barrage of [Spirit Blasts]. It was weaker, but much more difficult to dodge. Judging by the mana cost he had just observed, his opponent wouldn't be able to keep teleporting forever.

Emile showed why he easily reached the finals by correctly recognizing this as a different kind of probing strike and responding by launching his own barrage instead of wasting mana by blinking away uselessly.

[Fireballs] of all shapes and sizes appeared just as Nick's barrage was about to hit him, and the explosions caused by the clash of the two magics lit up the battlefield, making it impossible to see.

It was a good thing that Nick didn't need his eyes to track his opponent.

A [Lightning Bolt] flashed through the smoke, slamming into Emile's shield with enough force to crack it like glass. But even that wasn't enough to break through, as the barrier healed itself very quickly.

Annoyed by how this duel was unfolding, Nick decided to raise the stakes. "If you want to stay on the defensive, I'll take full advantage."

More [Lightning Bolts] rumbled, shaking the arena with their power and forcing Emile to teleport again lest he get trapped.

Not satisfied with letting his opponent retreat, Nick chased after him, moving for the first time since the duel began.

[Crest of the Thunderbird] coalesced around him, drawing only a small part of his focus thanks to [Parsimonia], and he activated [Air Step] to boost his speed, crossing the distance in an instant and slamming down on Emile's shield like an avenging angel.

He finally got a clear view of the blonde's face and saw only calm concentration, even as [Crest of the Thunderbird] chipped away at his shield.

He's about to teleport again. Fucker.

Indeed, the absorbing shield cracked and collapsed under the immense pressure of Nick's spell, but before he could reach Emile, he was gone.

Yet, Nick didn't let the duel reset again. Instead, he pushed off the air to change direction and unleashed a barrage of [Lightning Bolts] in all directions, expending far more mana than he would in the wild for an attack he knew wouldn't succeed. But just as the duel's rules worked in Emile's favor by stopping Nick from setting up, they also helped him because they made sure they had to stay inside the ring.

Realizing that the situation could only worsen if he kept retreating, Emile finally decided to act.

The moment a lightning bolt was about to strike him, the air shimmered around him, and the golden power was redirected before dispersing into motes of mana, which Emile immediately seized and used to craft his first true attack.

Hundreds, then thousands, of pure mana arrows materialized in the sky above them.

For a moment, Nick was stunned by the sheer number of them. The spell itself wasn't anything special, just an unaspected version of the common elemental arrows. Yet the speed and volume of them made even such basic magic truly threatening.

Which wasn't even to mention their being born from the mana left over from his own spell, which had been torn apart for parts and consumed.

Then, they fell.

With such numbers, dodging wasn't an option. Nick trusted [Crest of the Thunderbird] to see him through it, but even he had to admit some trepidation at the scale of the attack.

That was why he stopped mid-air and released a wide wave of annoyance-charged spiritual mana, wearing down the arrows just enough so that when they hit his shield, they couldn't deliver their full penetrating power.

Helped by his intervention, [Crest of the Thunderbird] had little trouble weathering the assault, as the first hundred arrows were simply dispersed, while the rest were absorbed.

Yet, Nick knew it had cost him. He had remained still, dealing with the barrage for several seconds, blind to the rest of the world through sheer saturation.

Again, Xander's words echoed in his mind, and he knew his over-reliance on his sensory magic was finally catching up to him.

Emile proved why he was the top second-year by not giving him a chance to breathe, and suddenly, Nick was surrounded by writhing tentacles.

Black as the darkest night, the appendages slammed against his shield, seamlessly replacing the expended arrows. This time, however, they resisted [Crest of the Thunderbird]'s disruptive properties by virtue of being a continuous construct, refilling the cracks it caused with shadows.

Trapped and having spent too much mana on useless tactics, Nick returned to the basics.

[Structural Weaknesses] struck the writhing tentacles in a wave, causing much more damage than his shield ever could to the physical darkness.

The next time a tentacle hit [Crest of the Thunderbird], they fell apart as they should have from the beginning, revealing it was just a superficial shell that had protected them.

Then, Nick dug deep and quickly generated as much wind mana as he could, creating a [Vacuum Sphere] from his reserves alone to keep Emile from interfering with his casting.

Unable to see where the slippery upperclassman had gone, Nick should have been blinded, but the currents of the ether swirled angrily in one place, where spatial magic had just been used, so he aimed there, unleashing the rage of his first element, feeding it all the fury and resentment he felt.

The explosion rattled the entire dimensional chamber.