Sword Saint's Reincarnation-Chapter 74: Tournament (9)

Aelfric didn’t stop chanting. He stared at Jonathan with a sharp gaze. The boy was still grabbing his burned arm with gritted teeth; it was the sort of opening that no trained combatant could miss.

As Aelfric neared the end of his chant, Jonathan grabbed the wand with his intact left hand and chanted, drawing a symbol in the air. Rylan narrowed his eyes.

He’s faster than before.

It was unclear if it was the pressure or if he hadn’t treated this seriously from the start. Either way, because Aelfric’s chant was longer, they would finish at the same time. As if on cue, the two spat out the last bit of their chant.

“Magic Shield!”

“Fire Wave.”

The mana around Aelfric ignited into a burning wave. It roiled, approaching Jonathan’s Shield like a tide. Aelfric waved his wand in a sharp movement to the right. The Fire Wave gathered and wrapped itself around Jonathan’s Magic Shield. It was as if the boy had become a bonfire. The flames burned unceasingly around him, wearing down his Magic Shield rapidly.

Rylan nodded in appreciation.

Good move.

Aelfric had predicted that Jonathan would cast a defensive spell and therefore chosen to use a spell capable of dealing continuous damage. Coupled with the fact that he could skillfully manipulate Fire Wave because of his training, the result was the complete suppression of his opponent.

Jonathan’s Magic Shield deteriorated in real time. Even as Jonathan kept feeding mana into it, it started melting like iron. However, that was not achieved without a price. Rylan eyed his brother. Aelfric’s brow was covered in sweat. He pointed both the wand and his free hand at the storm of flames, trembling. Uncertainty and surprise filled his expression.

He can’t keep this up.

Aelfric didn’t have enough mana or skill to maintain a Fire Wave like this. In fact, Rylan doubted if he would be able to pull it off himself. It was an overwhelming but difficult application of a powerful spell.

Now, it was a contest of endurance. The moment Jonathan’s Shield disappeared, the judges would most likely end the battle to avoid severe injuries. But, if Aelfric faltered first, he would be left with little mana to face a skilled opponent. It would turn into a dogfight between two fighters with little mana left.

Jonathan started slowly walking to the side while keeping his Magic Shield up. It rippled and trembled, but it didn’t collapse. Aelfric’s flames followed him. With gritted teeth, Jonathan suddenly dashed forward. His Magic Shield disappeared, leaving him with nothing but his body to withstand the flames. The judges stood up while Aelfric blinked in surprise.

The fire scorched Jonathan’s skin and made him scream in agony. He only sped up toward Aelfric, dragging himself out of the Fire Wave. Jonathan pointed his wand at Aelfric.

“Magic Missile!”

The arrow of purple mana shot forward. Aelfric took a step to the side, but it was too late. The Missile pierced his right shoulder, drilling into his flesh and muscle. Aelfric’s right arm immediately went limp as he screamed. His wand fell to the ground. The flames, which had still been chasing Jonathan, disappeared. Jonathan blinked hard, shaking as his free hand hovered over his burns.

In the same vein, Aelfric only gritted his teeth and trembled, his hand slowly moving toward the fallen wand. The stadium was silent. Tears fell from Aelfric’s eyes, his pain clearly overwhelming him.

Rylan clenched his fists. Images of Theodore: Roland’s younger brother who had orchestrated the plan to kill him: overlapped with Aelfric. Seeing his brother in so much pain was agonizing, but it was something both he and Aelfric would need to get used to.

Jonathan and Aelfric started chanting, only to falter almost at the same time. The suffering was disturbing their concentration.

Basic spells were flung back and forth a few times, as if neither of them could afford to cast more complex ones. Stumbling and struggling to maintain their spells’ trajectory, Aelfric and Jonathan tried to keep fighting. Many spells outright missed, while others fizzled out in mid-air.

The seconds ticked by slowly.

Rylan stared at the arena with pained eyes. Aelfric stumbled as he tried to run, trying to mimic Rylan’s fast-paced fighting style. Spell after spell, they bombarded each other, crying in pain. Injuries slowly accumulated. Blood fell to the stone floor, creating a morbid painting. The audience was mostly silent. People whispered to each other, but Rylan wasn’t in the right headspace to try and listen to their words.

It happened as Jonathan was casting a Firebolt. He winced and blinked hard, choking up his words and disturbing his chanting. Almost at the same time, Aelfric gritted his teeth and slurred his words, blinking hard. For a few seconds, neither of them said anything. In the end, the pain had become too difficult to bear.

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More of the judges stood up. Rylan let out a breath.

It’s over.

They would end the match right now. In a way, at least it meant that he wouldn’t need to see Aelfric in more pain. Aelfric glanced at the judges, still clenching his jaw. He tried to point his wand at Jonathan, holding the magical weapon with both shaking hands, but his arms failed him. His eyes were filled with pain and the desire not to give up.

“Stop,” a judge immediately said.

Jonathan let out a breath and immediately sat down on the floor, dropping his wand.

“Fuck!” he screamed as his hands hovered over his burns and cuts.

Rylan could tell that not all of the tears were due to physical pain. His gaze softened as he looked at the boy. A tournament like this was very harsh on such young kids, especially because it could determine their future. The level of pain they needed to withstand to succeed in it was too high.

The announcer stepped between the two opponents. Aelfric stared at him with bloodshot eyes, his expression frozen in a pained wince as he also sat down on the ground.

“The battle is over!” the announcer exclaimed. “In a unanimous decision, the match is declared a draw!”

Rylan nodded to himself. Both had inflicted serious injuries on the other, but a clear winner hadn’t appeared.

Aelfric let out a sigh of relief before closing his eyes and grabbing his injured shoulder with a heavy frown. Rylan resisted the urge to leap into the arena and talk to his brother. One of the judges rushed to Aelfric’s side, while another went to Jonathan’s. A green light enveloped the two of them. Their expressions softened almost at the same time as new skin crawled over the old wounds and flesh regenerated.

Rylan could hear the conversations around him.

“They’re pretty good, but… holy shit, that was brutal.”

“Yeah, tell me about it. At this point, the battles have become dangerous. The judges should have stopped it earlier.”

“Sure, but wasn’t that sort of… underwhelming?”

“I get what you mean. I expected more from Rylan Flameheart’s brother.”

“Oh, shut up. Didn’t you see what he did with the Fire Wave? That was fucking impressive.”

“For his age, sure, but still not quite like Rylan. It was just alright.”

Rylan clenched his jaw. They were the ones who had expected too much in the first place, but they dared to say they were disappointed? Jonathan wasn’t an easy opponent by any means; he had gotten so far in the tournament because of his skill and prowess. The Earth Spikes had been cast quickly and effectively, just like the Magic Missile. At the same time, his Magic Shield had held on against a Second Circle spell.

The fact that Aelfric had managed to deal enough damage to hinder Jonathan’s casting was admirable enough. By inflicting the initial burn on Jonathan, Aelfric had used his opponent’s pain as a way to come out on top.

If this had turned into a contest of pure spellcasting, Aelfric would’ve lost.

Of course, a real battle involved many more factors and variables. Aelfric’s victory was a testament to this. Rylan leaned toward Sarah.

“Use Whisper and talk to Aelfric when the judges finish speaking,” he said in a contained tone. “Tell him we’ll meet at the hotel.”

She nodded with a grave expression.

After both Jonathan and Aelfric were properly healed, they stood up and faced the judges. The announcer stepped back. The judges praised the two Mages for different reasons. They complimented Aelfric’s battle sense and ability to cast while moving, as well as Jonathan’s mana density and quick casting.

Once they were done, some of the audience started dispersing, including Rylan and Sarah. Her eyes momentarily glowed blue before the light faded. She nodded at Rylan. Together, they made their way back to their room in the hotel.

Shortly afterward, Aelfric arrived.

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He entered the room tentatively. Once he saw Rylan, he immediately closed the door behind him and rushed forward. Rylan gently hugged him. Once they parted, he patted Aelfric’s shoulder with a serious expression.

“It must’ve been hard,” he said in a soft tone.

Aelfric visibly winced, then grabbed his right shoulder.

“…Yeah. I don’t know how I made it through that.”

“What matters is that you did. Come here, sit down.”

Aelfric followed Rylan to the room’s only table. There were three chairs, one of which was already occupied by Sarah, who was staring at Aelfric with concern. The two brothers sat down, facing each other.

“Rylan…” Aelfric said after a few seconds of silence. “I don’t want to continue.”

Rylan realized what he was talking about in an instant.

“Are you scared of the pain?”

Aelfric furrowed his brow, running his hand over his shoulder again.

“…If every battle from now on is going to be like that, I don’t want to keep going. I don’t want to get injured like that again.”

Rylan’s gaze was soft as he looked at his brother. In the end, Aelfric was just a sixteen-year-old boy who hadn’t spent much time at all fighting and struggling. The pain of having a Magic Missile tear through his flesh and drill into a ligament, severing everything in its way, was something he had no idea how to cope with. Aelfric was completely different from him, who had almost a century’s worth of memories filled with nothing but struggle. However, Rylan knew that facing this was necessary.

Rylan grabbed Aelfric’s right shoulder in a gentle grip.

“Brother,” he said. “I know it hurt more than anything you’ve ever faced. I know that the idea of more fights like that is scary. But know this: a battle to the death is even more dangerous than that one. An enemy after your life won’t control his power or try to hit you where it hurts less. Just the opposite.”

Aelfric shook his head, looking at Rylan with concern.

“…Are you saying that because of your fight against Evenon?”

Rylan nodded.

“Yeah. I've been through it before. In a world like this, you have to get used to both hurting and being hurt. Both are difficult, in their own way. But I’m still not powerful enough to protect you from everything that comes our way.”

Aelfric looked at the floor in silence.

“You can become a great Mage, Aelfric. But fighting will be part of it,” Rylan continued.

Aelfric raised his gaze, looking into Rylan’s eyes.

“And you think I can do it? Become like you? Just like you killed that bandit on the way here?”

In his brother’s eyes, Rylan saw endless trust. Truthfully, he had no idea why Aelfric saw him like this, but at least he would no longer exploit it like before. Rylan placed his hand on Aelfric’s head.

“I’m certain. I wish you didn’t have to, but I can’t protect you all the time, forever. You have to stand on your own.”

Aelfric gave him a slow nod.

“Alright. I’ll try. Because you told me I could.”

Rylan smiled bitterly. Such devotion was burdensome in many ways. Eventually, Aelfric would need to stop looking up at him so much and be complete on his own. It was necessary, no matter how far away it seemed.

The two spent a few moments in silence.

“Do you want to come with me to watch another match?” Rylan asked.

Aelfric shot him a puzzled look, still rubbing his right shoulder.

“Who?”

Rylan grinned.

“Jasmine. Jasmine Lamollet.”

He wanted to see how good she was when it came to magic.