Fallen Mage Regressor

The coliseum’s cheers deafened Mal.

He brought both of his hands up to his ears and blocked out the sound. Light shone in from the sun directly overhead, allowing him to stay warm despite how cold it was. It was nearly winter, autumn having flashed by in a flash. He shivered a little before he kept the reflex under control.

“And the first one to enter the ring is none other than—” Igna’s voice cracked. “Malfrasius Patoal.”

A grunt. “A good student, clever.”

“How did you even get in here, Vigil?”

“The headmaster told me to.”

“Right, of course he did.”

The two of them were up in a booth overlooking the stadium. Hypode entered from an entrance on the other side of the coliseum. He cocked a hand on his hip and smirked up at the audience.

There were a few scattered cheers, and not much else.

“Plebeians.” He flipped his hair. “They don’t recognize magnificence when they see it.”

Mal rolled his eyes.

“And Hypode enters the fray,” Igna said. “My money’s on him, given how powerful his core is.”

“Igna, you’re not allowed to bet on students.”

“It was a joke, you uptight—”

The feed cut out.

Emerald stumbled forward and smiled, hands shaking. He let out a little wave, and was greeted by a roar from a few members of the crowd.

“Kick your brother’s ass!” someone shouted.

“The sibling rivalry, it brings tears to my eyes!” one woman sobbed.

Mal was reminded, for the umpteenth time, why he hated this school.

Every day, I find new levels of never-before-seen stupidity, he thought.

“The normal rules apply,” Vigil said. “Namely, that there are none. Just try not to kill your opponent, I guess.”

Hypode’s glare locked onto Mal. “Finally, a set of rules that I’m in complete agreement with.”

Emerald’s gaze hone toward Hypode in much the same way Hypode was looking at Mal. Emerald’s fists clenched, and his pupils shrunk to pinpricks.

Oh, looks like the sibling rivalry accusations aren’t far off the mark, Mal thought.

“What are you all waiting for?” Vigil said. “Fight.”

Hypode pointed his open palm at Mal. “Bolt!”

A bolt flashed into existence in the shape of a sphere, then shaped itself into a thin tube tapered at the edges. It shot forward and raced toward Mal’s head.

Mal stepped to the side, and the bolt vroomed past his forehead.

“Was that all?” Mal said.

Murmurs rang out from the crowd.

“Dodging a bolt, as a first year?” Igna said. “Must have been luck.”

“Or skill.”

Hypode growled and another bolt formed in front of him. It fired out toward Mal, and he easily dodged it in the same manner. Again, again, then again. Bolt after bolt after bolt, each missing by a wide margin.

“Stand still, damn you!”

“I’d rather not.” Mal stepped to the side. “Not that your bolts would do anything to me, of course.”

Honestly, Mal thought between dodges. Mastering a bolt at his age as a first year is nothing to sneeze at. I had thought only Lusia would be capable of doing that, but Hypode has more than shown his worth with this particular achievement.

Even so, it’s just too much fun to tease him.

To Hypode’s side, Emerald crept forward, inch by inch. He circled around to Hypode’s back, then pulled something out of his cloak.

A stick.

Emerald had brought a large stick to the fight.

Mal wanted to see how this would play out. He remained silent as he dodged bolt after bolt. Emerald came within a hair of Hypode’s back, raised the staff up, then slammed it down onto the back of Hypode’s skull hard enough to throw Hypode to the ground.

The thunk that came from the impact echoed through the Colosseum.

Hypode reached up for the back of his head and touched his fingers to it.

He brought them back around and the tips were colored red. He slowly turned his head, and when he saw Emerald, a hoarse screech ripped into a shrill screech.

Emerald gulped.

He turned his bolt onto Emerald and fired. Emerald swung his own hand out into a shield, and the spell dissipated against the blue protective shell.

Sensing an opportunity, Mal dashed forward, enhanced by his Airgrass boots. Soundless, he closed the distance in an instant. He kicked off the ground, then wind burst from his heel and swung him around in a perfect three-sixty spin.

Hypode isn’t a significant threat, he thought. He’s been severely injured at the head. Out of the two, right now, I’m more worried about Emerald!

His boot met Emerald’s forearms, and he was thrown into the ground with a thud.

Emerald had managed to bring his arms up for a block at the last second.

Better reflexes than I expected.

Total Awareness flared up behind him. He threw his body to the side, and a bolt shaved his shoulder—not penetrating the robe, but close enough that Mal could feel the heat as it passed him by.

He spun around to face both Emerald and Hypode.

The two of them looked at Mal, then at each other, then nodded.

Mal’s eyes narrowed. They decided on something without saying a word. But what was it?

Hypode stood up, then circled toward Mal’s left. Emerald did the same, but circled his right.

Now isn’t that cheap? Mal thought.

Mal was confident in his new Waterrorse-threaded robes, but he wanted to avoid using it at this stage in the battle. He only wanted to use it for Savaly, he didn’t want to give his hand away.

So Mal was limited to his normal toolkit.

Still, I have Total Awareness. So any advantage they think they might have...

is much smaller than they believe.

Their feet hit the ground. Both Emerald and Hypode ran at Mal from the left and right at identical speeds. They both opened up their palms at the same instant, and two spells flashed into existence. An Arcane Sphere from Emerald, and a bolt from Hypode.

I wonder what effect they’re using? Mal thought. Emerald is probably just using push, but I can’t imagine Hypode would stick to something conventional.

Let’s find out.

Mal, able to perfectly track where their hands were moving and where they were aiming thanks to Total Awareness, shut his eyes and waited until the last possible second.

He kicked the ground and flew back. With his body no longer in the way, Hypode and Emerald had a clear line of sight toward each other.

But neither was able to stop it in time. The spells released and impacted. Hypode’s bolt flew faster and cut into Emerald’s Arcane Sphere closer to Emerald. The effect activated and the Arcane Sphere slowed down and burst into flames. It traveled onward, and too shocked to move—

The sphere hit Hypode.

It set fire to his robes instantly.

He yelped, eyes wide. “Dammit, dammit, dammit—!”

He jumped onto the ground and rolled along the dirt, quenching the flames.

Emerald stared at Hypode, then at Mal. His eyes were wide, and his hand shook. He pointed his palm at Mal. Before he could let off a spell, Mal ran toward him and wrapped his fingers around Emerald’s throat.

“In case you didn’t know,” Mal said, “this glove lights on fire. Personal item of mine. Would you like me to test it on you?”

Emerald turned a little green. “No thank you.”

“Announce your surrender. Loudly, please.”

“I... I surrender...”

Mal let him go, then turned back to Hypode. “And you?”

Mana rushed into Hypode. Hypode growled and brought his hand up for another bolt. He fired it at Mal, who dodged. He came to a sharp stop a few inches from Hypode, Mal raised his leg, and smashed the heel of his boot into Hypode’s hand.

A hiss ripped out of Hypode’s lungs.

“I’m not giving up.” Hypode gritted his teeth. “I am an A-grade core. I will not be dishonored by some has-been noble from the boonies.”

“A bit too late for that.”

I saved your life less than a few months ago, Mal thought. Ungrateful prick.

Mal would have liked to summon some plants to quietly choke Hypode out, but the dirt was completely barren, likely the result of some magical procedure done while making the coliseum.

Hypode relaxed, but even as he did so, Mal could see the mana working, shifting, being drawn into his body. Mal brought his other boot up and stomped on his other hand.

A screm tore through Hypode throat and he thrashed backward, spine arched. “I’ll kill you, I’ll kill you, I’ll kill you—!”

“You’re not killing anybody.”

Mal reached into his satchel and pulled out one of his sleep pollen bombs. He dropped it on top of Hypode’s head. Hypode tilted his neck to get out of the way of it, and the Sleepleaf pollen dropped onto the ground next to him. The Elderroot leaves sprang open and pollen erupted in a small cloud. Mal held his breath. Hypode, only vaguely aware of what had happened, breathed it in. His eyes fluttered and he went limp.

Mal took his feet off of Hypode’s hands.

He cracked his neck, then stepped away from Hypode and toward the exit.

“And that’s the end of it?” Igna’s voice paused. “Did he use a single spell?”

“I don’t believe he did, Igna.” A faint tone of amusement had entered Vigil’s voice. “What was that you were saying about core grades?”

The two launched into an argument in the announcer’s box. Mal paid more attention to what the students were saying inside of the Colosseum stands, his ear just barely able to pick it up.

“It must have been some sort of trick,” one man said. “There’s no way he beat them without using a spell!”

“Maybe he fixed it with them beforehand?”

“But that doesn’t make any sense. Hypode’s family is one of the most wealthy and prestigious in the whole kingdom.”

“So Savaly will be the one to expose whatever happened.”

“Maybe it was some sort of dark magic?”

Mal twitched at that last sentence.

How annoying.

Mal stepped through into the middle of the coliseum, and everyone glanced. A hush fell over the section of the crowd that could see him. He ignored them, then came up to the front and sat down next to Rolam and Lusia.

”Master.”

”The victor returns!”

At this, a few of the people who had been staring at him shifted their eyes away and resume their conversations.

Mal snorted. ”What, did I really scare them that much?”

”You did,” Rolam said. ”More than a few people winced when you crushed his hand. You think he’s okay?”

”Probably. I couldn’t be bothered to check, though.”

”Ruthless! I like it.”

If I were actually ruthless, Hypode would have been crippled for life. I’m actually being a little bit merciful.

Three people strode out for another Free-for-All Match. Philo. then one of Hypode’s goons.

Savaly came last.

A cheer erupted from the crowd.

”The Princess of Chama herself!” Igna said. ”An S-grade core prodigy. A blessing for the school and the kingdom.”

”I would be surprised if she has any trouble.”

”Though I do wish that the other students had a chance,” Igna said, clearly not meaning a word of it. ”I must agree.”

As the two continued their discussion, Rolam crossed his arms, and a hot puff of air escaped his flared nostrils.

”Who do they think they are?” Rolam said. ”Philo has just as good a chance as anyone.”

”Don’t be ridiculous.”

Rolam snapped his head toward Mal, eyes narrowed and ears twitching. ”Don’t tell me you believe that load of garbage.”

”Of course Philo has a chance,” Mal said. ”But that doesn’t make it at all likely. Unless Philo is significantly more powerful than he’s told us, or he received a herald mark overnight, that isn’t happening.”

Even Mal didn’t know how good his chances were. He’d received a large amount of aid from the church, and the school, but he still only estimated his chances at thirty, forty percent.

”A herald mark? As if that could happen.”

Mal shifted his eyes to the side. ”Yeah. Ridiculous.”

Lusia, as usual, had remained silent up to the end of the conversation, when she suddenly broke her silence.

”A herald mark is that powerful?”

”Unbelievably so. It can let someone know the future, or learn spells instantaneously. Or even—”

A pause. ”Lost my train of thought.”

Well, Mal knew that Kinetic Redirection wasn’t the heroine’s power. It was a native power that belonged to Lusia. Whatever the heroine was using the mark of victory for, Mal didn’t know, and couldn’t even begin to theorize.

”You know a lot about the marks,” Rolam said.

”I have something of an academic interest in them.”

A loud whoosh stilled the conversation. An Arcane Sphere was held in both of Savaly’s hands. They morphed and shifted, and spikes jutted out of both of them in concentric rings around each one.

”What is that spell?” Rolam said. ”I’ve never seen an Arcane Sphere look like that.”

”It’s a unique construction effect applied to the spell pattern—specifically the Arcane Sphere spell pattern. She can freely manipulate the mana, solidifying it, shaping it. All sorts of lovely and rather frustrating things.”

”Why doesn’t she do that with a Bolt spell?”

”The Arcane Sphere is easier. In time, she’ll likely figure out how to do the same thing with bolt.”

Philo charged straight towards Savaly. He brought his hands up as if he was going to swipe down through the sphere, when he abruptly stopped and opened up his claws into a flat shape. An Arcane Sphere came to life in front of him.

Savaly manipulated her own Sphere and flipped it straight toward Philo. Philo dodged with a sharp pivot of his foot, then aimed his hand at the ground.

His Arcane Sphere landed against the sandy dirt, then erupted upward like a volcano. Sand spewed all across Savaly, covering her completely from vision.

Rolam cast a side eye at Mal. “I told you he had a chance.”

“Look again.”

The sand drifted back to the ground, revealing a shimmering Shield that had stopped the blow cold in its tracks.

Rolam’s face fell into a frown. “Shields can’t do that. They don’t block physical attacks, only magic.”

“It’s not a real Shield. It’s an Arcane Sphere that she morphed into the shape of a Shield.”

The third member of the group, one of Hypode’s goons, came up behind Savaly and reared back his leg.

He snapped it forward for a kick and it bounced off the Shield with a clang.

Savaly tilted her head back and pointed her hand at the goon. She clenched her fist and the Arcane Sphere crumpled back into a ball, then flew at the goon. The force ripped him out of the ground and straight into a wall.

Philo closed the gap and tried the exact same technique as he did before—the same overhead claw strike.

Savaly, without even looking back, made another Arcane Sphere. She wrapped it around her body in the shape of a pod, creating created a shimmering Shield.

But something was off about the color.

Mal’s eyes narrowed. A fake out. She’d dispelled the Arcane Sphere and replaced it with a true Shield spell. But what was Rolam going to do?

Rolam’s palms opened and another Arcane Sphere appeared. Before he could stop himself, it launched and hit the Shield, then shattered into a shower of light.

Savaly turned her head back with a smirk. “Is that all that Violeko has to offer?”

Beside Mal, Rolam’s clenched fist dug into his robes.

Lusia stared at the battle, eyes expresionless.

“Who do you think is going to win?” Mal asked.

“Unknown.”

“Take a guess.”

Lusia fell silent. Her eyes sharpened just a hair before she spoke.

“Savaly,” she said.

I wish I could disagree, but she’s right.

Philo breathed deep. His gaze flickered toward the body of the knocked-out student.

A tad unethical, Mal thought, but I admire the gumption.

Philo raised his claws for another slash. An Arcane Sphere lit up. In response, Savaly inclined her head and an Arcane Sphere formed and wrapped around her body in a Shield for the third time in this match.

The Arcane Sphere launched toward the student—

then missed.

Philo, with his other hand, brought it up and made his own Shield. He moved his body forward, dragging the Shield with it, and it collided with Savaly’s barrier.

Clever draconid.

The Shield met Shield—but in this case, one of those Shields was a false construct created via the shaping of an Arcane Sphere. And in a battle between a Shield and a normal spell—

A Shield wins.

The spell dissipated and cracked backward, straight toward Savaly. She staggered back, and mana reversed into her hands and through the robes into her arms and chest.

Runic Backlash. She wouldn’t be able to cast a spell for at least a little bit.

Rolam stood up, a wide grin on his face, and pumped his fist. “Yes!”

Mal glanced at him out of the corner of his eye with a raised eyebrow.

Rolam’s smile turned brittle. He sat back down and his cheeks turned a shade of red. “I wasn’t rooting for Philo, I was just… glad that the princess is finally going to get her rear kicked.”

“Sure.”

Philo charged Savaly and swiped his fingers in a horizontal motion. Savaly jumped back, but not fast enough—Philo’s claws left thin red lines across her forearm and cut open a section of her robes.

A gasp rippled through the crowd. Mal tensed and leaned forward.

He might have a chance.

Savaly’s eyes locked onto his hands, and her foot shifted into a different stance. Philo slashed again and it just sliced the edge of her robes. He wound up for another slash, and this time it missed entirely.

The brief hope in Mal’s chest died an ugly death.

”She moves like you,” Mal said to Lusia.

”No. I’m better.”

Mal suppressed a smile. It was an objective measurement, almost certainly not intended to be rude.

But still.

Savaly danced around a few more strikes, then held out her palm. An Arcane Sphere flickered into existence when Philo was already committed to an attack. It launched out, hit him square on the chest, then blasted him straight into the coliseum wall. He crashed into it with a loud bang, then fell limp.

Silence.

”And with that, Savaly advances to the next round!” Igna said.

A cheer ripped through the stadium, the people around them standing up and clapping. Rolam remained seated, his arms crossed.

”Don’t look so down,” Mal said. ”He really didn’t do so bad.”

Against someone as monstrous as Savaly, he did downright amazing, he thought.

”I’m not disappointed. Don’t be so ridiculous.” He paused. ”You’re going to be facing Savaly in the next bracket?”

”I will.”

”Which means that if I get through my side of the bracket, we’ll be going up against each other in the finals.”

”We will.”

”I’ll see you then.”

Rather bold, isn’t he?

”We now request that Malfrasius Patoal prepare for the final round.” Igna’s voice broke through Mal’s thoughts. ”We will return in thirty minutes.”

Mal stood up. ”I’ll see you two later.”

”Good luck.”

Lusia nodded and didn’t say anything.

Mal left the same way he came, his eyes fixed on the coming fight.