『Alan: Isn't it curious that the emperor's son is here in the arena? 』
Neizan looked at him intently, a spark of challenge in his eyes.
『Neizan: So, your father won't have me executed if I kill you, right? 』
Alan let out a calm, amused laugh, his orange eyes gleaming with excitement.
『Alan Léonas: Hey, hey. Don't think you're hot stuff just because you managed to beat those losers before. I'm here to tell you that your luck ends with me. That's why I'm being so friendly and polite, Neizan. 』
『Neizan: «I can't stand these types. Do they only send narcissists to fight me?» 』
Neizan sighed and chose silence. He knew that if he replied, Alan would only find more reasons to keep talking. Who starts a conversation right before a life-or-death fight? And beyond that, the prince's words made no sense. If he truly was the emperor's son, what was he doing here in this gladiatorial arena, ready to fight? The questions piled up in Neizan's mind, but none of them seemed to have logical answers.
He glanced towards the stands, where the emperor watched with interest, leaning on his throne, his elbow resting on the arm of the chair and his chin on his fist, giving him a perfect view of the fight. Physically, Alan and the emperor looked nothing alike, but they shared one thing: that arrogant, confident smile that Neizan found irritating.
The two warriors prepared for the fight, each hiding his true intentions, and the tension in the air grew thick. In the arena, beyond titles and ranks, only skill and the will to survive mattered. With a hint of irony and cunning in his words, Neizan understood that regardless of who Alan was, this battle would be as much a clash of swords as of minds.
The signal to start the fight echoed through the coliseum, and Neizan quickly drew his sword, ready to strike. However, just as he took a step forward, he saw it. Right in front of him, where Alan stood motionless, dozens of glowing ice stakes began to materialize in the air, sharp-tipped and glittering. Neizan's eyes widened in surprise, and he stepped back a few paces as he saw them. Each stake was aimed at him with deadly precision, like a clear warning: any attempt to get closer would unleash a rain of projectiles with no room to escape.
『Alan Léonas: What's wrong? Did I scare you? I offered you the first turn to attack, but you wasted it. Since you're not coming for me, I'll come to you.』
Neizan watched Alan cautiously, analyzing each of his movements. The threat before him was imposing, and for an instant, he doubted his own abilities. Then, memories of Meilia's words began to surface in his mind, giving him a renewed sense of clarity and hope.
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『Meilia: You've already experienced fire magic firsthand, so now I'll talk about water magic. 』
『Neizan: Alright, but don't hold anything back. Any information could be vital for me. 』
『Meilia: With water magic, you can control both water and ice, using them as weapons. Ice can be incredibly resilient, and, like water, it spreads quickly. You mustn't touch it under any circumstances, or you could be instantly frozen. 』
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At that moment, Neizan returned to reality just in time to see ice stakes begin to fly toward him. Alan had launched his attack mercilessly. The stakes, sharp as blades, cut through the air at full speed. Neizan dodged several, moving from side to side with agility, but the ground rumbled each time one of the stakes embedded itself, shattering into a shower of fine, gleaming crystals that scattered like icy dust.
The pressure was mounting. The stakes multiplied in the air around Alan, who seemed surrounded by a storm of ice, sending them in multiple directions, anticipating each of Neizan's moves and cutting off any escape route. Each second, it became more difficult for him to avoid them. His breathing grew labored, and his muscles started to strain. Finally, seeing a stake headed straight for his chest, he raised his sword to block it. The impact was brutal: the ice clung to the blade and began to slowly spread through the metal, as if it were alive.
Neizan felt the cold seeping into his sword, making it heavier with each passing second. The fingers holding it began to grow numb. He tried to free his hand, but the ice had advanced so far that it covered the hilt completely, immobilizing him. The sword, now frozen to the base, was a burden instead of a weapon.
Desperate, his thoughts returned to Meilia's teachings. Now he understood why she had warned him so much about ice magic. Each second he remained still brought him closer to imminent defeat.
『Neizan: «He's using ice to hinder my movements, but it's not just that. He's using two types of magic at once: combining the ice he creates for attacks with the wind he uses to guide it toward me.» 』
The situation was critical. Neizan had no choice but to release his sword; otherwise, his hand would have been encased in a layer of ice, freezing it upon contact. His enemy had managed to disarm him within minutes of the fight beginning. He looked around and noticed how the arena floor was also affected; several areas were covered with a gleaming, treacherous layer of ice from the impact of the stakes. The slick, slippery ground made it impossible to move sideways or retreat, leaving him only one option: to advance.
In front of him, Alan watched him with a smug smile, unfazed, his sword still unsheathed as the ice retreated around him. Neizan took a deep breath, recalling Meilia's teachings, trying to draw strength and reason from her words.
『Neizan: «Meilia said that, when a mage uses multiple types of magic, they rarely master any of them perfectly. Also, the mana consumption will drain them faster than if they were only using magic to wield their sword or defend themselves, as I've been doing.» 』
He quickly analyzed the situation: the key was to endure and look for an opportunity to strike when his opponent showed weakness. With determination reflected in his gaze, Neizan charged forward, heading straight toward Alan, who watched him with a calculating glint in his eyes.