The mages arranged a circle around them, closing ranks as they gathered around the dueling ground.
Swallowing his saliva, Beli stretched, using the sword as a counterweight for his arms and taking the opportunity to weigh the sword down. He hoped the fight would be on his favorite ground, sword fighting.
A few laughs animated the crowd, but not Arthur's. He, too, was anxious, lucky he didn't have his mageroot making him unstable, his fear would have transpired from his body.
Raising a hand, Lara spoke up. "Come on, it's not a death match. Don't cast lethal spells."
It sounded more like an encouragement than an order. The other mage stood ten meters before him, his arms ready to cast a spell, anything at all at his assailant. Beli assumed a defensive posture he knew by heart before indicating to the duel master that he was ready.
