It didn’t feel like much ti had passed for him before it was ti for his next bout in the Tower of Iron Magi, which he speedily followed Ains, who moved swiftly through the street before they reached the tower once more.
I guess I slept in the springs for longer than I thought…Crap, I missed my chance at the brothel again! Maybe later? Emilio thought.
“Did you rest well enough, Sir Dragonheart?” Ains asked, glancing back.
“Yeah, I’m good,” he replied, “I’m ready.”
“That’s good to hear; I am sure the lord will be pleased to know that,” Ains responded.
There was only enough ti to stop by the VIP room again to fetch his trusty sword and staff before having to do the anxious walk down the hall. It seed through Mr. rryfoot’s impatient avarice, Emilio was scheduled for the nearest possible fight.
Greedy old fart…Well, if I finish this quickly, I can get back into the city, Emilio thought, and with extra cash in my pocket.
“IT SEEMS HE’S RARING TO GO AGAIN! THE “RISING YOUNGSTER”, EMILIO DRAGONHEART IS BACK FOR MORE!” The announcer signaled for him to enter the arena.
Into the sandy colosseum again, he found himself greeted by much more cheers and support, likely due to the local fa he’d grown from his surprising upset against Ikar.
“I’m betting on ya’, Dragonheart!”
“Give ’em the fangs of the Dragon!”
…I guess it’s not so bad having so positive attention, he bashfully thought.
Though what the announcer said next took him for a spin as the audience’s loud cheers were drowned out:
“It’s a treat for you, folks! It’s magic-versus-magic in this bout! Co on up, “Weaver of Pain”, Jeane!” The announcer welcod.
Stepping into the arena from the opposing side was the familiar, but shocking sight of the gray-haired mage he’d t in the shop.
What?…Emilio thought.
“BEGIN-!” The announcer signaled the start of the bout.
There was little ti given for him to adjust to the surprise opponent as the crowd cheered on in anticipation of the battle.
“You wanted to know more about magic tools, right?” Jeane asked, adjusting his glasses.
There was a different air around the gray-haired man as he revealed a stone gauntlet worn on his right hand, fixed with what appeared to be four runes of a red, blue, green, and brown shade.
“–” Emilio stayed quiet, preparing himself.
Calmly, Jean held his gauntlet up as a wind of magical energy swirled around up, swirling the sand and kicking his academic robes up, revealing an arsenal of magical tools strapped beneath, “I’ll teach you all about them–right now.”
At the clear proclamation of battle from the person unrecognizable from the ek, clumsy person he t earlier, Emilio didn’t hesitate to prepare himself, about to take the initiative deciding otherwise as his opponent spoke–
“Set, Blaze,” Jeane said.
The words said smoothly by the man seed to be a command given to the gauntlet as the crimson rune glead, causing a ripple of fire to shoot out as Jeane pointed the gauntlet in Emilio’s direction.
Holding his ground, Emilio swiped his catalyst, conjuring a stone defense in the shape of a durable shield just as the fiery rings crashed forward.
That gauntlet…Emilio thought.
Managing to successfully block the flas, he crumbled his own wall to regain his field of vision, to which Jeane seed mildly perturbed before reaching for sothing under his cloak.
He’s grabbing sothing…? He thought.
Trying to secure the initiative, he drew his sword and rushed forward, dashing across the length of the arena, though he was unable to close the distance before the tool-user retrieved what he sought: a vial of neon-green liquid.
A potion–? Emilio realized.
Jeane threw the bottle directly towards him, prompting Emilio to deflect it with his sword, breaking the glass, though that proved to be a mistake as the unknown substance manipulated itself in midair.
“–?!” Emilio looked forward in surprise.
The bright-green liquid reshaped itself, moving like sentient tendrils that wrapped around his body to bind him in an instant.
What is this…!? He questioned.
As he tried to resist it, the glowing substance seed to drain his strength, making it difficult for him to fight against its hold.
“Ngh-!” Emilio struggled.
The crowd watched in anticipation, with cheers and boos all the sa resounding through the interior stadium.
Jeane adjusted his round glasses, “That’s a concoction I brewed myself; it responds to aggressive magical auras and siphons it once in contact with you.”
“…Phew…”
As he drew in a breath to relax himself, inhaling and exhaling, Jean watched with a raised eyebrow before a burst of flas manifested from Emilio’s body, dissolving the mana-siphoning concoction.
“What?…” Jeane said.
Emilio huffed, wiping the sparse remnants of the liquid away from his shoulder, “That was amazing. I could see a lot of use in that.”
“Don’t mock –!” Jean yelled.
Though his words were earnest, they were t with contempt from the gray-haired mage as he retrieved another tool from his arsenal: a wooden, chanic ball that he tossed towards Emilio.
That’s…? Emilio wondered.
In an instant, it exploded outward into copies of itself before releasing into an array of shrapnel explosions around Emilio.
Jean huffed, “Did that do it?…Maybe I overdid–”
The smoke was cleared from a powerful burst of wind, revealing the athyst-eyed young man to be unhard, visible through the barrier of water he used to protect himself.
“You…” Jean muttered angrily.
“Seriously, those tools are aweso,” Emilio said, looking around at the destruction left in the arena.
“Shut up!” Jean lashed out, holding his gauntlet forward, “–You’re just like all of the others at the academy! Blessed with such talent, yet you don’t appreciate the art magecraft at all…! Set: Tera!”
Invoking the gleam of the earthy rune, the tool-using mage used his gauntlet to manifest spears of rock that launched towards Emilio, piercing through the wind at high speeds.
“What? You’re totally misunderstanding –!” Emilio replied, using his agility to dodge around the incoming stone.
Compared to Ikar, he found himself much more in control of the fight, easily dashing through the ranged projectiles before closing in on Jean.
“Ek–!” Jean flinched with his opponent in range.
Though Emilio had his sword in hand, able to finish the battle right then and there, he withheld, instead throwing his fist against the man’s stomach, knocking him back.
Jean was blown back several ters by the natural draconic strength possessed by the young Dragonheart, landing harshly on the sand as he rolled across the arena.
“Pyuh…!” Jean spat out sand, groaning as he picked himself up, “…Dammit!”
The announcer chid in amidst the vocal reactions from the crowd, “It wasn’t a fluke! Emilio Dragonheart is just as dominant as he established! Can Jean co back from this?!”
Keeping his distance, Emilio let him get up, sheathing his sword as he found himself only weighed down in it with a fight he didn’t plan on resorting to it with.
“You’re strong…I envy you,” Jean said, picking himself up.
“So are you–”
“Don’t patronize ,” Jean shot him a glare, retrieving a vial from beneath his cloak, “I’ve spent my life in the shadow of people like you: those born with blessed blood, bestowed with magical talent, weaving spells without dedicating themself to the craft. I’ve fought an uphill battle, struggling and grasping at nothing but dust my whole life…But, with my tools, I can endure.”
“Wait, what’re you–?”
“I joined the Tower of Iron Magi not only to fund my research and developnt, but to showcase that, against the beliefs of the close-minded nobles of the world, that the ingenuity of mankind can overco hereditary gifts,” Jeane claid, wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth.
It was then that Emilio realized what the man was planning, witnessing Jean pop the cork off of the potion before chugging the glowing, azure substance. As it slid down the gray-haired man’s throat, Jean’s veins pressed against his pale skin, glowing the sa color as the liquid itself.
“This is unlike anything we’ve seen from the ‘Weaver of Pain’ before! Instead of using his special devices on his opponent, he used it on himself?!” The announcer remarked.
There was an imdiate effect, though it wasn’t clear whether that was strictly positive or a derit on its own as the one who consud the concoction was overwheld from the physical alterations it made.
I didn’t want to hurt his pride, but…maybe letting him do that was a bad idea, Emilio thought.
As Jean seed to regain his composure, overcoming the side-effects of the self-made concoction, his veins remained prominent and bright-blue, with his irises now holding the sa, gleaming shade.
“If I defeat you here, my product will gain recognition not just in Indasia, but all of Vasmoria,” Jeane told him, “–Then kids like , devoid of talent, can be unrestrained by their blood.”
“I told you already, I’m not out to get you–”
Though Emilio found that it was useless to try and talk as Jeane was lost in his own contempt that went beyond just this clash, bursting forward with unexpected speed.
This speed–he avoided close-quarters before…Did that potion increase his physical abilities? Emilio thought.
Still, he was able to react in ti to this newfound agility from his opponent, bobbing his head through the wild haymakers thrown in his destruction from Jeane. From the way the air whistled against his ear each ti a fist passed by, he could tell there was serious strength behind them.
“Ghh–!” Jeane gritted his teeth.
Reviews
All reviews (0)