Firebrand

Chapter 461: Advanced Magic

Advanced Magic

Martel waited. Not so much for Flora to dispatch her first spell, but for the traitorous move he knew she was planning. Casting his own spell might leave him vulnerable, so he remained passive.

"It seems a shame to destroy someone so talented. You could have been a great asset to the Night Knives," Flora mused.

"I don't care." As he spoke, he kept his eyes on her, but his magic sense remained active, searching the surroundings.

There! Inside a building, almost entirely hidden from his ability to sense heat. But he felt the cold pocket – the tip of gold upon an arrow slowly appearing in the window. Flora's last henchman, pulling back the bowstring now that Martel had revealed himself.

He waited during what felt like an excruciating moment. His two enemies struck at the same time. A ray of frost from Flora; almost immediately after, the remaining mercenary stood up and released his bow.

Martel fell to the side, releasing a fire bolt at the archer in retaliation. He dodged the arrow, but not the frost spell; he felt cold pain spread across his legs. Ignoring this, he launched another fire bolt at the hidden Night Knife, ensuring he was dealt with.

A corner of Flora's mouth curled upwards as she saw Martel on the ground, already wounded. Magic assembled around her hand as she released another spell. Her henchman was out of the fight, but he had served well enough, distracting Martel.

Feeling the magic about to attack him, Martel reacted. His elemental counterspell ignited a shield of flames in front of him, neutralising the frost ray. It gave him time to get on his feet, and as the fire dissipated, he stared at Flora with disdain. "You're done."

She sneered. From the paved road, large rocks rose into the air, infused by her magic. They flew against him in a barrage. Martel tried his counterspell again. However, while his fire burned stronger than her ice could freeze, the same did not hold true when her earth magic was pitted against his power with air.

One rock withstood his howling gale and struck him in the chest. He stumbled backwards, his breath knocked out of him.

"Pathetic child. I've practised magic for over a decade. You've done so for a year." She raised rocks from the ground again.

Rather than a direct confrontation, Martel chose a wilier strategy. He summoned a flame as bright as possible, right in front of her. It bought him a moment as she shielded her eyes, delaying her spellcasting. After swatting his magelight away with a floating rock, she looked down the road to see him gone.

"Already running away? Your bravado didn't last long. But you forget one thing, boy." She released her spell, sending the flying stones forward and down the alley where Martel hid. "I can sense every step you make!"

The rocks from her spell smashed into the buildings around Martel, and debris struck him in the head. Not as dangerous as a direct hit, but enough to make him hurt.

He had already used a considerable amount of spellpower dealing with her minions; but she had raised the earthen wall and cast some powerful spells herself, so they seemed even in that regard. If they kept flinging magic at each other, it was an open question who fell first. Simple fire bolts did not seem sufficient to guarantee victory; he needed something stronger.

Stepping out into the open again, he unleashed a ray of fire, pouring power into the spell. He kept it focused on Flora, feeling his magic fuse together with his hatred of her.

It did not matter. Before his magic could burn into her body, a layer of earth sprung up from the ground to cover her like living armour. Martel's spell met hers, offence against defence. Flora's held. As his fire ray ended, he saw her earthen protection still intact after his spell.

"You were the first mage I duelled in real combat, Martel. Before you, I only used magic to fight bandits or repair roads. You inspired me to learn new spells." She wore a cruel smile as she stepped forward. "I'm glad you made it worthwhile." Around her, rocks rose into the air.

This time, she was faster than Martel. Before he could distract her like last time, her spell had finished. The barrage of rocks struck him and knocked him to the ground. He felt blood in his mouth and realised he had bitten his own tongue.

"I'll even be entitled to ask for double pay when I explain that I had to kill a battlemage on this task." Once again, she raised stones from the road, ready to deal a final blow.

Her spells were strong, but still basic elemental magic. Lying on the ground, his breath ragged and tinged with the taste of blood, Martel could only think of one spell superior to hers. He raised one hand towards her. Between his fingertips, sparks began to crackle.

Doubt filled her eyes, only to be replaced by fear. The rocks around her fell as she renewed her living armour instead of pressing her attack.

From Martel's hand, a bolt of lightning surged to pierce the air. It struck Flora, tearing her earthen protection apart. Her entire body seized up as magical energy ravaged her, and she fell to the ground.

Martel got up and walked forward until he could tower over her. She raised a hand feebly, and he felt the tinge of water magic as she prepared a frost ray. He did not allow her to finish the spell. A ray of fire came first, striking her chest to ignite her clothes and burn through her skin.

She screamed for a moment before she finally fell silent. Magic had torn through her body, killing her fast. A mercy, probably. Martel imagined that during his previous fights, others struck by his fire spells might have died eventually as infection struck the burned areas, leading to a slow death. He knew that probably, his magic had caused the death of others before.

But this was the first time he saw it happen unequivocally right in front of his eyes. There was no room for doubt, no chance that the victim of his spell might have limped away and had their wounds treated. Flora's empty eyes stared into the air.

Martel was not sure how he was supposed to feel. He did not like the thought of killing another person; even less the idea of using his gift of magic for such purpose. But as he looked at Flora, all he could see was Ruby's dead face, and he felt no remorse. Only anger. It did not burn hot anymore, but it continued to smoulder. It still demanded to be fed.