Chapter 31

The sand on the platform rose around Nolan, twisting into twin blades in his hands. He dashed toward Damien, his blades trailing through the sand behind him. Damien grimaced, Delph's warning fresh in his mind. Don't let them get close to you. Sure.

Damien gathered Ether in his hands, quickly tossing a Gravity Sphere at the ground directly between them to stop Nolan from closing the gap too quickly. The noble boy spun out of the way with surprising grace, completely avoiding the spell as it detonated.

The second sphere landed on the ground where Nolan headed. However, something suddenly yanked Nolan upward and out of the sphere's range.

Damien's eyes widened, and he threw himself to the side as Nolan slammed into the ground where he'd been standing.

"You've got wind magic?" Damien complained as he rolled over and hopped back to his feet. A sword whistled past his chest, narrowly missing him.

"You never asked," Nolan replied.

Damien hardened his mage armor as one of the blades sliced at his right arm. It rang harmlessly off his defenses.

He jumped back as Nolan thrust a sword at his stomach, channeling Ether faster than he ever had before.

Gravity Spheres formed in both of Damien's hands. He tossed them both on the ground in between them, forcing Nolan to use his wind magic to launch into the air and avoid the strike.

The boy wobbled slightly before dropping back down, a small grimace on his face. They were both panting heavily now. Damien no longer had any thoughts of saving energy for the next fight. He just wanted to survive this one.

Before Damien could draw more Ether, Nolan was upon him again. The boy's weapons seemed like arcs of light as the slashed through the air. Damien found himself thankful for Delph's training as he instinctively blocked several of the blows with the mage armor while backpedaling.

His Ether was getting low after how much he'd already used it that day. Nolan was clearly running out as well, but Damien's reaction timing was also growing worse. A lucky strike drew a thin line across his left cheek that gushed blood.

Damien dropped into a roll right past Nolan's legs, just barely avoiding a thrust meant for his stomach. He drew on the Ether as he hopped back to his feet, then forced it through every one of his limbs.

His attention frayed as he tried to keep four spells functional at the same time. Nolan stepped toward him, raising his twin swords.

"You should concede," Nolan warned him. "You're exhausted. I don't want to accidentally hurt you badly. You had a good run, Damien. It's fine to stop here."

"Likewise," Damien wheezed. He tossed the Gravity Spheres in his hands at Nolan.

The boy threw himself to the side, avoiding the attack and dashing toward Damien. Damien slumped, and a triumphant smile crossed Nolan's face as victory came within his grasp.

Only too late did he see Damien wore the exact same expression.

"Sorry," Damien said. He stepped into the strike, dodging one of the swords while allowing the other one to punch clean through his stomach. He didn't even have the Ether left to harden his mage armor.

Damien wrapped his arms around Nolan, holding the other boy as the two Gravity Spheres he'd formed at his feet expanded. With the last of his energy, Damien swept Nolan's legs out from under him. They fell directly on top of the spells.

Nolan's eyes went wide, but it was too late. The spells detonated.

The next few moments were a haze of pain and agony.

He was pretty sure his arms were completely mangled, and his side felt like something had taken a huge bite out of it.

Nolan's eyes were wide open, but the boy wasn't speaking. He'd passed out from the pain. Damien likely would have as well, had he experienced much worse multiple times when dealing with It Who Heralds the End of All Light.

Slowly, Damien forced himself to move. The wound in his chest was bleeding profusely now that Nolan's blade had disintegrated. He felt lightheaded, but he was still able to slowly worm his way onto his knees.

"I'm still conscious," Damien rasped.

The judge rushed to their side, magic spiraling out from him and into the two boys' bodies. If anything, the pain grew worse for a few moments as Damien's bones snapped back into place and repaired themselves.

"Are you trying to kill yourself?" the judge demanded.

"What was that? Do you think throwing yourself on a sword and into your own spell is heroic or something?"

Damien didn't respond immediately. After the cracks emerging from his body had stopped, and he was no longer bleeding out, he let out a relieved sigh. "No. I just needed to win."

"You can hardly call this a victory. You would have both died had I not been here to save you. The greatest victory is to survive the fight," the judge said, massaging his brow.

"But I did win the fight, didn't I?"

"Technically. You were still awake when your opponent was unconscious," the judge said, pressing his lips thin.

"That doesn't mean it wasn't incredibly stupid. Blackmist does not encourage our students to kill themselves to win."

"I know," Damien said, rolling his shoulders and carefully rising to his feet.

The judge just shook his head. "I'll let your teacher beat some sense into you, but won. Your determination is impressive. The other quarterfinals are wrapping up, so your next fight will be coming up soon. I suggest you withdraw immediately to avoid further pain."

Damien twisted his nose, considering the man's words.

Then he inclined his head.

"I'm sorry. I promised I wouldn't," he said.

The judge just shook his head. "Somehow, I thought you'd refuse."

He knelt beside Nolan, snapping his fingers over the boy's face. Nolan's eyes popped open, and he drew in a jerky breath. He looked at his hands, then glanced up at Damien.

"You're really something else," Nolan muttered. "That was insane. Don't you have any self-preservation?"

"More than you could ever imagine," Damien said, offering the noble his hand. Nolan shook his head and accepted it, allowing Damien to pull him to his feet.

"My father is going to be furious," Nolan asked. "Are you at least going to win the competition?"

"Not a chance," Damien said, chuckling. "I don't even have a single spark of Ether left."

"Damn," Nolan sighed. "Good fight, I guess. I'm glad you're on our side."

The judge just shook his head. "I'm going to fly us to the semifinal and finals platform. Are you prepared?"

"As much as I'm going to be," Damien said.

"I'll return to bring you back to the ground in a moment," the judge told Nolan. He grabbed Damien, and the two of them launched into the air.

They flew through the sky, crossing the large arena and arriving at a large pillar in the center of the arena. It was even taller than the others, and there were three other students already on it.

The judge set Damien down in a protruding waiting area at the edge of the platform and flew off without another word. A small grin crossed Damien's face as he looked at the semifinalists.

Sylph and Mark had both made it. The only other student there was a muscular boy with long hair Damien didn't recognize.

"You made it," Sylph said. She looked tired but pleased.

"Good job."

"Barely. Nolan nearly took me out."

"I didn't think you'd get this far. Well done," Mark told him. "Delph is going to be happy. Three out of four of us are from his class."

The muscular boy grunted. "Talk about it. I feel completely out of place. I heard Delph was a good teacher, but this is ridiculous. Has he been giving you magical plants or something?"

"He's just very motivational," Damien said. "Are they going to let us take a break before the next fight?"

"I doubt it," Mark said. "The judge who brought me here said we'd start as soon as everyone arrived."

Sure enough, no sooner than Mark had spoken the words, a dark blur flashed across the sky. Dean Whisp herself landed on the stage. She strode toward them, her face unreadable. Damien felt Henry retreat even deeper within his mind.

"Congratulations, all of you," Whisp said, stopping directly before them. "You've all done very well getting this far. We'll be starting the last few fights immediately. The crowd is very eager to watch you all. Now that you've all gotten here, we'll give you a little more freedom. Would anyone like to volunteer to go first?"

Everyone exchanged glances. Damien glanced at Sylph, then jerked his chin at the stage. She raised her eyebrows but nodded, stepping forward. Damien did the same.

"We'll go," Damien said.

"Very well. Thank you for volunteering," Whisp said.

"Please, step onto the stage. I won't be overseeing your finals as the Year Four finals are about to begin as well, but your judge was temporarily delayed. He should be here any moment."

Damien and Sylph walked onto the stage, taking their spots. Dean Whisp looked into the sky, tapping her foot impatiently. Several minutes passed, but Damien wasn't able to recover much of his Ether at all. A dull headache thrummed in the back of his head.

"Here he comes," Whisp said.

They glanced around. Damien nearly jumped as the ground beside Whisp arose in a shower of sand. A stocky man with a well-kept beard and heavy plate armor emerged from the ground, a huge axe strapped to his back.

He whispered something into the dean's ear. She frowned but nodded.

"That's fine," Whisp said. "Take care of the finals. I'll deal with it."

She launched into the air, vanishing in moments, and leaving everyone staring at her back with baffled expressions.

"Well, then," the judge said, clearing his throat. "I'm Teg. I'll be the judge for the semifinals and finals. We're on a bit of a schedule, so you'll have to excuse me for being prompt. Are the two of you ready?"

Damien's hand twitched, but he just nodded. Sylph did the same.

"Then you may begin."

Teg sounded a little bored, but Damien ignored the man.

Sylph enveloped herself in her magic, fading into the background.

The miniscule amount of Ether floating within Damien's core wasn't going to be of much help against her. Damien forced his headache to the back of his mind, reaching into his back pocket.

He kept his eyes on the sand in front of him. It was looser on the stage than it had been in the arena they'd trained in, and Sylph's camouflage didn't let her walk completely without a trace.

Several terse moments ticked by. A grain of sand shifted to Damien's left. His hand tightened on the papers. Then, abruptly, he threw himself into a roll. He came back to his feet, but there was nobody behind him.

"Damn," Damien said. "Thought she'd attack me."

A line of darkness carved through the air, nearly catching Damien across the side. At the last moment, he managed to hurl himself out of the way and avoid the attack. If it hadn't been for his weeks of training with Sylph, he never would have heard her coming.

She flickered into view for a moment before fading away again. A small frown crossed Damien's face. She looked exhausted. Even if she managed to defeat him in this round, the chances of her winning the finals were nonexistent.

Damien grabbed several of the papers from the wreath and slammed them onto the ground. The runes lit up on impact. A pillar of fire roared up around Damien, blocking him from the rest of the arena.

Then he sat inside it, setting the other papers on the ground in front of him and yawning. He could still see outside the ring through the flickers in the flame but passing through it without getting injured would be impossible.

"Sitting in a fight?" Teg asked, disapproving. "Finish him, girl. The boy is toying with you."

Sylph faded into view. "I can't. I don't have enough energy for a ranged attack, and I can't get to him through the fire."

Damien gave her a wide grin. "I'm planning my next move. I don't think there are any rules on a time limit, are there?"

Teg's eye twitched. "There are not. There never needed to be one."

"Fantastic," Damien said. He leafed through the thick pile of papers. "I've got a few of these, so I might be thinking a bit."

Sylph's eyes widened. She immediately sat and drew a deep breath, trying to relax and recover Ether.

"What do you two think you're doing?" Teg asked. "This is a fight! You can't just…sit down."

"I'm thinking," Damien replied. "A plan is an important part of a winning strategy. I don't know what my opponent is doing, but I'm not dumb enough to rush someone stronger than I am."

One of the papers wrinkled and burned. Damien took another slip from the pile and replaced it, reigniting the flames. Teg drew a deep breath, but Damien didn't look in his direction.

Sylph had less Ether than the rest of them, but that meant she could take every bit of it farther. Without any Ether for the final, she was doomed to lose. However, if he could buy some time for her to recover, she'd get a lot more out of it than any of the other students.

Damien considered trying to win the round himself, but he dismissed it immediately. If Mark won his round, there was no way he'd stand a chance against the boy. The strategy he used against Nolan would be worthless against Mark's armor, and the boy had much more training than he did. He'd used too much Ether in the previous fights, so his only advantage was gone.

Whenever one of the rune papers faded, Damien replaced it. He'd packed quite a few of them, and most of them had survived his previous fights.

Teg's face progressively turned a darker shade of red with every minute that passed. He gritted his teeth and stood with his arms crossed, tapping his foot impatiently.

Minutes turned to nearly half an hour. Dean Whisp appeared in the sky, looking at Teg with a baffled expression.

"What in the Seven Planes is going on?" Whisp demanded. "Why is the semifinal still going?"

"They're refusing to fight," Teg snapped. "This has never happened before, but there's nothing in the rules about how long a fight can take!"

"Well, we've hardly had people refuse to fight before," Whisp said, glancing from Sylph to Damien. "Isn't this the girl who won every fight in one or two moves? Why— Oh.

You're out of Ether. Hmm. Interesting."

Shit. Maybe I shouldn't have gotten the scary lady's attention.

Damien glanced at Sylph. She looked much better than she had when the fight started. Damien doubted she'd been able to recover all her Ether, but maybe she'd gotten enough to give her an edge in the final.

He grabbed the remaining papers and tossed them into the fire. They went up in a flash. Within a few minutes, the remainder of the fire died down. Damien stood, stepping out from the flames once they'd lowered enough.

Sylph's eyes opened. She rose to her feet as well and Teg let out a sigh. "Finally. Just…fight, will you? This is just pitifu—" Sylph blurred forward. Damien didn't try to move. Her blade stopped against his throat, drawing a thin line of blood.

"I surrender. That was a killing blow," Damien said.

Teg's eyes looked like they wanted to bulge out of his head. "Why, you little—" "Teg," Whisp said sharply. "That's the end of the match.

He surrendered, and we clearly need to change the rules.

The loophole is our fault not theirs. Finding unique solutions to problems is admirable. As far as I'm concerned, they were just smarter than we were. Brains are just as important as brawn in a fight."

Whisp gave Damien a thoughtful stare. He swallowed, wondering if he'd just made a serious mistake. He walked off the stage, Whisp's keen eyes tracking his back. He returned to the waiting area and sat as the other students watched him with shocked expressions.

"You wily bastard," Mark said. "You were just buying time for her to recover her Ether, weren't you?"

"Enjoy your match," Damien said, the corner of his mouth quirking up. Semifinals wasn't such a bad spot to lose, after all.