Fightscenesfightscenesfightscenesfightscenesfightscenesgnnnngngngngngngngn >______<

You make me jealous. I want to rip my own story to shreds now. I sort of regret putting that sword fight scene in my story. Magic fight seems easier to write. I hate myself

haha. nice one. poor rhen.

Whoa, poor Rhen...
She troubled herself with the sword.
But was that a fight or magic displayed again?

There was no time to think. She had to fight off, without using any magic, three other sorcerors and one swordsinger that had approached in the time that she'd been dealing with the first one.

Then she staggered to the side, weak and woozy, and whacked herself with her own sword.

A light glow seemed to fill her. When it faded, she felt about a thousand times better, physically at least.

Mentally she was still in agony.

She had never been a healer. She had never fought healer-style. She had no idea what strategies to use and she was going to die and then she was going to be out and then she'd never be High Swordsinger and Lars would never stop laughing at her, ever.

Dammit.

“You stupid, stupid sword,” she hissed.

She tried, once again, to call the sword's power into her, focusing the way she always did when she was probing for a new spell.

Her nonexistent ailments disappeared.

...It wasn't like she couldn't see how, say, in a party of fighters this sword would be pretty awesome. But when fighting alone-

She bit her lip and tried again.

A faint tingling told her nothing had happene-

Wait.

Okay, she felt a bit stronger.

She tried it again.

Yeah, definitely a very slight difference-

Agh! She didn't have all afternoon to spend giving herself tiny strength powerups!

She tried, again, to focus all her inner calm in a very pointed manner at the sword's core of power, yanking, tuggi-

WHAM.

A blast of magic hit her, almost straight on. She tumbled painfully backwards and hit the ground with a loud thump. Pain burst like bright flowers of fire in her chest. She coughed blood.

“Oooh... owww...” she whimpered.

Only sheer survival instinct helped her roll herself sideways, aching ribs and all, as another blast of power came hurtling in her direction.

She scrambled for her sword, which had slipped from her grasp. Through her headache she found the power, focused...

A weak healing glow surrounded her. Much weaker than her previous attempts. It was hard to heal when she was hemorrhaging blood.

She felt a sudden burst of admiration for Dameon, for being able to do this so consistently.

She wiped her mouth and staggered upwards, to confront her attacker.

It was one of the older swordsingers.

She waited, dancing around him carefully, eyes locked-

and then she lunged.

He dodged easily and whacked her back with his sword, so that she had to bite her lip not to scream.

He chuckled.

It was such a nasty, supercilious chuckle. She felt the heat of the battle and the general fear and excitement cool into something like hate.

“You seem to be a bit out of your league,” he taunted.

She healed herself again, watching warily.

“Pity no one taught you your place, slave brat.”

Her eyes widened.

“A swordsinger is the property of the Empress,” she managed.

“And a slave should recognize that some are 'property' and some are 'of the Empress' and understand the difference,” he said.

He was goading her. She realized that, somewhere in the back of her mind. He was goading her because he wanted her to make a mistake.

But she was going to Blade Waltz him into the ground.

She danced back, gaining space, and then stepped forward, back, the basic square-dance steps, the Sword obediently supplying power as it-

it-

she was already lunging forward, the last step, the sword swinging, whooshing down...

with no power to accompany it.

The blade waltz spell- and although it hadn't been her very favorite she'd used it enough to know it in her sleep- hadn't worked.

She had only enough time to come to this realization when the blast of powerful close-range magic caught her, straight in the chest.

Because it was so close-range, she wasn't hurled backwards.

Her knees buckled underneath her.

She couldn't breathe. The air had been knocked out of her, and the pain... the pain...

She felt like she was about to black out. No, she knew that she was about to black out, and all she wanted to do was let it happen, let sweet unconsciousness take over, let some attendant heal her whole and let her watch, from the sidelines, as...

as this smug arrogant little bastard gloated over his victory-

as this smug, arrogant...

as...

the world had faded to a sort of hazy, painful white but she managed to tighten, just barely, the numbed fingers of her sword-hand and

power flooded through her so fast she gasped, racing down her veins and bones.

She lay twitching for a moment, as feeling rushed back into her.

“I take it back,” she whispered, hoarsely, “you are a marvelous, marvelous sword.”

The sword hummed in answer.

She could hear the swordsinger approaching. Checking if she was dead.

She lay still, breathing steadily.

Just one more second...

Just one more second...

She staggered upwards, the power gathering, almost without needing to be gathered, and struck, as hard as she could, taking some small measure of satisfaction from the surprise in his eyes-

As a bright radius of light exploded-

The Sword of Radiance had only one attack spell but damn if it wasn't a marvelously effective one. ...and way too costly, mana-wise.

He'd crumpled to the ground and was groping blindly for his sword.

She jabbed hers down an inch away from his fingers and leaned over.

“What was that you said about knowing my place?” She whispered, and if it wasn't the perfect comeback it still felt delicious to say, as she helpfully stabbed the last few health points out of him.

“And that's for interfering with me in the second challenge,” she said, raising her sword one last time, and realized he was already dead. An attendant was hurrying across the field towards them, which was a sure sign.

She retreated to nurse her wounds. She had barely any mana left and she had not fully healed. She fumbled at the drawstring of the bag of wild berries she'd been handed, spilling them out into her hand-

When yet another burst of magic just grazed her.

A white-haired sorceror was standing some twenty feet away, preparing for another salvo.

Damn.

She didn't have time to run all the way over for a physical attack.

She didn't have enough mana for anything more than a firefly ballad.

She started casting it as quickly as possible, but she already knew that it was hopeless.

A barrage of bright pink sparks was headed her way. They looked deceptively harmless. She knew they must hurt like mad.

They were covering too large an area to dodge.

She winced in anticipation of the impa-

Gate Exura!

-ct that did not, in fact, happen. The universe bent into a sort of hole that the sparks vanished into.

She blinked in surprise.

“Are you okay?” Lars said, gasping for breath, as he ran up.

“Um...” she said, a bit uncertainly.

“Great,” he said. “Do you have any healing items? I was caught in a massive explosion, way back in the beginning, three royal sorcerors and a swordsinger duking it out, not pretty. I had to use all my elixirs just getting out.”

“You had elixirs?” She said, incredulously. “I only got some bread and berries- oh right, you're a wimp. I forgot about that.”

“Hey!” He said. “That's unfair!”

Which reminded her. “Why should I give you my stuff? I thought we weren't working together,” she said. “To be fair to the other contestants.”

“Oh, well sure, if this was like a puzzle-solving competition or something,” he said. “But this is a free-for-all battle!”

She crossed her arms.

He sighed. “I knew you'd be mad at me about suggesting we split up.”

“Yes,” she said, frostily.

“But you're thinking about this all the wrong way.”

“Mhm,” she said, lips pursed.

“We are by far the two best fighters on this field. Together, we would dominate.”

“As usual you are cocky and arrogant.”

“As usual you don't want to admit I'm right.”

She had to smile at that. A mistake, because it let him know that he was winning.

“C'mon, Rhen..” he wheedled. “You know you want to give this arena hell.”

“...Yeah,” she admitted.

She paused.

“I should warn you, though. My sword's only attack uses an enormous amount of mana. And these berries?” She dangled them tantalizingly. “Mine. Get your own berries.”

He stared at her reproachfully.

She plucked one berry and placed it in her mouth, swallowed with great gusto.

He stared at her reproachfully.

She popped another one in her mouth.

He stared at her reproachfully.

“Okay, fine, you can have them!” She said, and sighed. “I guess I'll just do physical attacks. Again.”

He grinned.

Great update! Can't wait to see Rhen and Lars fighting together!

yay! another update!

Rhen and Lars are going to rule the competition

Thanks for the update.

I really wonder if the Sword of Radiance is inspired by Dameon's skills. He has absolutely NO attack spells except for Sun Fury, which you do not get until you fight Ahriman.

(it does follow the general rules of sun magic, doesn't it? I think I mostly based it on healing characters' skills in general, though... thus it also has stat-ups...)

They didn't have very long to celebrate their new alliance.

The main confrontation over in the center of the field had broken up into a radius of fights spreading steadily outwards. Almost immediately they were attacked from three sides at once.

Back-to-back, they faced the attackers. Rhen slashed at anyone who came near, Lars handled long-ranged attacks.

It helped that their attackers turned on each other almost as often as they attacked them. Rhen and Lars made their way towards the center of the arena, slashing and timestorming their way through the melee. Every so often the sword of radiance gave a healing bonus, which was helpful. Every so often it healed one of its targets, instead of cutting him. This was... less helpful.

Lars usually took care of those incidents with a well-placed spell.

Three spells exploded at once, casting a confusing cloud of magic. A swordsinger dashed up, taking advantage of the cover.

Rhen swirled and around and stabbed him under Lars's upraised arm.

“Got that for you,” she said, grinning.

“Thanks,” he said.

It was ridiculously fun to be fighting together like this. Years of practice together- before the competition, back when they were with the rest of the party going up against Ahriman- had made them a very good team. They coordinated flawlessly.

Plus, of course, Rhen looked amazing when she was smiling in that slightly maniacal way, splattered with blood and wreaking havoc. Okay, also terrifying, but amazing.

Lars cast one of the oncoming opponents- swordsinger? Sorceror? Whatever, it didn't matter- into a time portal.

Anyway this was fun. The rush of adrenaline, the teamwork, getting out of the center of the arena had been unspeakably hard and not fun. But getting back to the center was mcuh easier with Rhen at his back-

“Berries,” she said, popping some into his mouth.

Oh right. He'd forgotten his mana was getting low. That was another thing having a fighting party was useful for.

But the battle. The battle was fun. The opponents came in clusters, or one or two sneaking up or trying to pincer-attack, and Lars was too high off the thrill to really feel the growing headache of mana-drain, or care that his arms and legs were starting to tire.

He wiped away the sweat from his forehead that was beginning to drip into his eyes and cast yet another spell.

And prepared to cast another one, only there was no one to cast it at.

“Um... Rhen?” He asked.

“...I think we finished them all.” She said. “That or they finished themselves.”

“...What? That's not possible.”

“No, I'm pretty sure it is. I was paying attention.”

“But-”

“What do we do now?” She asked.

“Um,” he said.

It was a rather inescapable conclusion.

He barely dodged as she turned and slashed at him.

She steadily advanced, sword at ready, as he retreated, batting her away with his staff.

She lunged and he toppled backwards, clattering to the ground-

Clattering?

He shuffled back, pleadingly, one arm raised.

“It's not fair, Rhen, you know it isn't, I used up all my mana and I'm not a close range fighter...”

She hesitated.

He grabbed the Aquifolium Extora and drained it.

“One sec-” she began, before he finished casting Riptide.

Whatever she'd been about to say was drowned in the energy riptide. Funny that an energy riptide looked so much like real water. Pirate John had never appreciated this spell, though.

He was already preparing to cast another spell as the magic cleared, but he didn't get a chance. A bright white explosion enveloped him and in a gentle, pleasant, tingly way he felt...

all his healthpoints being drained.

Slowly, pleasantly, with clenched teeth- it was so very nice, he could just stay and- he cast Cleanse.

The giddy feeling dissipated.

He felt woozy and weak at the knees.

Rhen was smirking smugly. Also, she was brandishing a sword.

Well, damn, he thought. He couldn't dodge in time.

He couldn't dodge....

---

“You have got to be kidding me!” Rhen exploded, as the sword politely healed Lars of all his wounds. “You were down to your last 100 hp! I would have-”

She backed away, as Lars advanced, magic crackling at the tip of his staff.

“Not fair!” She yelped.

“Completely fair,” he assured her.

She had only enough time to cast a healing spell before the attack hit. But that was enough. She was still standing. And now he couldn't possibly have much mana left... could he? She took a swing at him. He dodged. She swung again and hit and barely managed catching the full impact of his next spell. It brushed against her leg instead, and suddenly it was shriveled and liver-spotted.

She healed herself quickly. She could wait this out. He'd run out of mana eventually. He was pathetic at hand-to-hand combat.

Another blast of magic hit her, and she healed herself. She'd have to survive first, though- all this healing was depriving her of a chance to strike back.

Damn it, if she'd had the Sword of Shadows he'd be plastered to the ground by now.

She struck back, weakly. Speaking of mana, it wasn't like she had an infinite supply either- she'd have to attack.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw the other sorceror, crawling weakly to his knees. He was reaching for his staff-

She cast a boot-slappin mara at the same time Lars cast Lightning Strike, and the sorceror gave a little moan as he collpased, again.

“Thanks,” Lars said.

“No problem,” she said. “Where were we?”

“I believe I was about to toll the bell of death. For you.”

“You can't just change the rules of reality so that you'd actually stand a chance at winning against me?”

“Ha. Ha. You know that TimeMaster magic doesn't work like that.”

“Of course not,” she said sweetly. “It'd take more than magic to make that possible. A miracle, maybe.”

She cast Blade Waltz, he cast Last Hour. They both barely dodged.

“Look,” he said, panting. “This could go on forever. But we're both running low on mana and hp... what's the point? Why don't we call it a truce. Declare it a tie. They can't force us to kill each other.”

“Or,” she suggested, “I could beat you. And don't think I can't see you preparing to cast Riptide, Lars.”

“As if I didn't notice you starting to do your stupid Waltz again.”

The magic exploded. Neither of them had the strength left to dodge.

“Ugh,” he moaned.

“Not so stupid when it hits you in the face, is it?”

“It's not like you look that great, either,” he said. He paused.

“What?”

“Well this is embarrassing. I just have enough mana left for Shock.”

“Ha!” She said, triumphantly. “Never tell your enemy how much mana you have left! I have...” She paused. “Dammit.”

“What?” He said.

She grinned, lopsidedly. “Wanna make a go for it?”

“Sure,” he said, magic gathering. “Let the best man win.”

“Except it'll be a woman,” she said, staggering through the steps. “Slide thrust!”


(Embarrassing A/n: No, I have no good explanation why at that point they didn't just physical-attack each other. I mean, yes, this is a magic competition so you don't get as many points for physical attacks but I didn't state that explicitly in the fic itself and also still. seriously.

WHATEVER. let's pretend it makes total sense)

<3 Hooray for Rhen and Lars! Fighting each other, Ohhh I hope it's a tie! It's gotta be a tie! XD Oh wow they finished them all...^________^ Great Update~

Time Master? Lars is a Time Master? Well, go figure. I had been confused when he cast Time Storm a few chapters ago because I would usually immediately go for Necromancer the moment Lars graduated. Oh well. You could've told us that sooner

Great update! So, I'm guessing this isn't going to be the last chapter?

1. I always go for the very latest guild he could possibly be in because I'm that obsessive perfectionist type who needs my characters to be THE BEST (okay, actually i download the all-guilds goodie so that my character is THE BEST) but in any case obviously that isn't possible canonically for Lars and since Lars is presumably a perfectionist like me... Time Master. Definitely.

2. I'm annoyed because my browser just crashed and session manager was supposed to save my session and it didn't. not cool, session manager. not cool.

3. no, this is not the last chapter.

Eh, I'm also too used to having Lars use the cheat and have all four guild books. In story that's technically impossible, huh? Because they say guild spellbooks are top secret and whatnot?

Especially since Time Master is the perfect weapon against wyverns while Angels of Death gets K.O'ed better by Annihilator spells.

Something was trickling down her cheek. It was annoyingly ticklish.

Blood?

No, too cold.

She reached up to wipe it away, but someone stopped her.

“Don't,” whoever-it-was said. “It's covey balm. You're still recovering mana.”

She sat up, and a wave of dizziness washed over her.

She wasn't in the arena. She was in one of the side rooms.

So this meant she must have lost then. Oh well. He'd probably not her live this down, but still...

“Best person to lose to, I guess,” she said out loud, shrugging. The shrug sent painful little tingles down her spine.

“Hmm? Who would you be referring to?” a rather familiar voice said.

She turned, and saw Lars sitting up in a bed rather like hers.

“...Why are you here?” she asked, confused.

“Same reason as you,” he said, and laughed at her befuddled expression. “We both hit the ground at the same time, the judges can't decide which of us went first.”

“So... we tied,” she said, slowly.

“Apparently.”

“That sucks.”

“Only a little,” he said, grinning.

She grinned back. “Now what?”

He was spared having to answer by the arrival of a rather harried-looking attendant.

“You can sit up? Great! The awards ceremony is starting any moment now, please hurry along, please hurry along...”

They were half-pushed, half-shoved out the door and into the open air.

The sun had nearly set, and the arena was lit by countless glowing paper-lamps. They were led into a raised stadium-area close to the Empress's box, which was brightly lit beyond the rest of its surroundings, positively glowing.

They sat and waited.

And waited.

The Minister of Defense gave a long speech extolling the Empress, the competition, the fair, and the empire's sorcerors and swordsingers. Then the Ministry of Finance did pretty much the same, although his speech involved a few lame attempts at humor.

When the Minister of Agriculture got up, Lars groaned. “They can't possibly be having every minister in a fifty mile radius coming to talk, can they?”

“Shhhh!” Someone hissed from behind them.

The Minister of Agriculture's speech was delivered entirely in monotone. Five minutes in, Rhen was already struggling to keep her eyes open.

“And with that,” he said, “I am approaching the end-” Rhen began to clap- “of my introduction.”

He continued for a good twenty minutes after that. It was agonizing.

When at last he had finished, the Empress stood up.

A hush fell over the crowd, and Rhen, who had been dozing off, jerked awake.

“Everything that could possibly have been said has... been said. So, without further ado... We'd like to announce the winners of the competition. Here they are, the top five- We'll start with fifth place and work up, shall we?”

The crowd cheered.

“Fifth place!” The Empress announced. “Sorceress Caly Avis!”

Two seats over, a woman in dark purple robes stood up slowly.

“I- I made fifth place?” She said, clearly in shock, as the applause filled the arena.

The Empress talked about how impressive Caly had been for a moment or two before announcing that the sorceress would be receiving an all-expenses-paid luxury vacation to a location of her choosing, and free access to the Royal Library.

Caly sat down, flushed with excitement.

“Fourth place!” The Empress announced. “His Lord Swordsinger Aivan Regin!”

The man who stood up looked rather less happy than Caly had, his sour expression strongly suggesting that he had been expecting to place a bit higher than fourth. He also looked rather familiar.

“That's the person that attacked me!” Rhen whispered, in shock.

Lord Aivan Regin was awarded an impressive sum of money that made him look bored. He sat down, but not before sweeping an arrogant glance over the other swordsingers and sorcerors seated there.

Rhen met his gaze and held it. She'd beaten him, after all. She had no reason to look away.

He sneered.

Rhen stiffened.

How dare he?

But actually, now that she thought about it, she didn't care. She'd wipe that smirk right off his face, when she placed higher than him.

“In third place...” The Empress announced, and Rhen waited expectantly, but it was some sorceror she didn't recognize.

“In second place...”

This was it. It had to be either her or Lars, now.

“Sorceress Melvira Addens!” The Empress said. The name sounded familiar, and Rhen realized she'd heard Melvira being discussed in school. So she was someone pretty famous.

“One of the most likely to be High Sorceress,” Lars murmured to her.

It figured.

But.

Then she and Lars must have tied. It was possible, right? They'd tied the final competition...

“Of course our first place winner practically needs no introduction,” the Empress said.

Winner? Had she said winner? Or winners? No, it had definitely been winner.

“His skill with swordsinging is exemplary, a shining example to us all. Sir Akai Verrins, you are presented with the trophy and Grand Prize of this competition.”

She barely registered Akai Verrins standing up to bow.

She was in shock.

How was this possible?

“Honorable mention goes to first and second place in each individual category,” The Empress continued. “In the box challenge, first place Sorceress Melvira Addens, second place Swordsinger Devis Edwidge. In the display challenge, first placw Swordsinger Akain Verrins and second place Sorceror Catlina Murcy. In the survival challenge, tied and therefore in no particular order, Swordsinger Rhen Darzon and Sorceror Lars Tenobor. Congratulations to you all.” She paused. “Of course, everyone who competed here today was incredible. Simply arriving at this competition required great skill. Some of the scores were so close... but, of course, we simply had to choose. It came down to some very hard decisions, and we respect the performance that all of you have put in tonight. The truth of the matter is, you are all winners.”

Except for those of us who aren't, Rhen thought, bitterly.

“We hope that everyone has enjoyed the magnificent display of skill and talent we've been privileged to witness today. The evening festivities will be beginning right about now. Please take care to leave in an orderly fashion through the clearly marked exits. he winners and honorable mentions are requested to stay for introductions with the Empress.”

Around them people were standing up, stretching, brushing themselves off.

“So we didn't win,” she whispered miserably to Lars.

“I noticed,” he said, off-handedly, and then glanced at her expression. “Wait, you thought we would?”

“Well, I-” She began. “Never mind. Forget it.”

He stretched. “The evening festivities are supposed to be amazing. I wonder how long we have to wait here?”

“Dunno,” she said.

The evening wind was starting up again. Desert nights got cold quickly.

“I hope it's soon,” she added.

---

At last the attendant came to get them, and they were led inside to the Empress.

“Good evening,” she said pleasantly, looking up as they arrived. “I see you came together.”

“Should we have come separately?” Lars asked.

“Not necessarily. The others did, but that has no relevance. In any case, as to why you've been brought here- firstly, of course, because I'd like to congratulate you on your exemplary performance, and to offer you your award as honorary mentions- a rare spell for both of you, from the royal treasury.” She gestured at two scrolls lying on the table.

“And secondly?” Rhen asked, then felt immediately that she had spoken out of place.

The Empress raised her eyebrows slightly but didn't comment.

After a moment she continued.

“Secondly, I desired to speak with all the winners for a few moments privately. No, no, stay- it's fine, I can speak with you both together.”

She smiled.

“I must say, it is rare to see a swordsinger and sorceror on such good terms. The current High Sorceror and Swordsinger have never gotten along, and they've encouraged the rivalry between the two groups consistently. Supposedly the competition encourages the two groups to improve.”

Something about the way she said 'supposedly' made Rhen wonder what the Empress thought of this theory, but she felt too abashed to ask.

Lars apparently did not. “And does it?” he said, meeting the Empress's gaze steadily.

“Oh, competition is always healthy- complacency is never conducive to growth- but there's a fine line between that and a total lack of cooperation and agreement between the two sides at crucial moments.”

There was silence.

“I-is that all?”Rhen finally ventured, after standing there fidgeting for what seemed like a very long few seconds.

“Well, if you want it to be,” The Empress said, lilting her head slightly. “Although I was expecting you might have some questions to ask. The audience with the Empress is intended as another reward, after all- a private audience like this is rather rare.”

“Then- then can I ask how we did in the competition overall? Since we didn't place in the top five.”

“Well,” the Empress said. “There's a slightly complicated answer to that, thanks mostly to the final contest. Protocol doesn't cover how to deal with a tie. There was one judge who wanted to give you no points at all, but most of the judges were agreed that seeing as you outlasted all the contestants it made no sense to give you less points than anyone else. So you received the standard skill and craftsmanship points, and the points you would have gotten for winning were split between the two of you. Were it not for your tie, it is possible that whichever one of you won might have placed, say, fifth.”

“Oh.” Rhen said.

“Still,” the Empress continued, “You did very well. Especially for your rather tender age. And youth can be an advantage, too- Youth, good skills working together, talent... After all I have to start thinking about who to appoint High Swordsinger and Sorceror, when the present ones retire.”

“B-But I thought the position would go to whoever won the competition!” Rhen blurted out.

“Now, whatever gave you that idea?” The Empress said, smiling wickedly. “I certainly never said that, did I? No, the present Highs have quite some time left to go... time enough for them to grow older, time enough for others to mature, as well...” She lingered just a moment over the word 'others'.

Then she rose, with a delicate yawn.

“And now I simply must prepare for my appearance in the Parade. It has been a delight meeting with you again, Rhen Darzon, Lars Tenobor. I regret not having had the opportunity to formally offer you my thanks, for saving the world. May the Goddess bless you and all your endeavors.”

so it ended up not being a round forty. *sigh*

Oooh.... They both made it!!! Woo hoo!!!!

Amazing! (And wow two updates so soon~)

Great job Bluble~ I must say I was expecting them to come in the top five.Ah well ^.^ Lars and Rhen are really quite the team! <3