Unlike their first fight, Delph didn't wait for Damien to make the first move. The professor dashed toward him, his feet gliding over the sand without even leaving an impression.
Damien drew on the Ether he already had stored within him, forming a Gravity Sphere in each hand. He tossed the first one in front of Delph and the other slightly to the man's side.
The spells detonated one after the other. The first one forced the professor to stumble forward as the powerful force yanked down on him, and the second one yanked him off his feet.
Delph rebalanced himself midair, dropping into a roll and leaping back to his feet as the Gravity Sphere faded.
He shot at Damien again, forcing him to run.
Damien tossed spells behind him as he ran, but Delph ducked and slipped out of the way of each one, slowly gaining on his pupil despite the magical forces yanking him back and forth.
As Delph chased Damien around the arena, he felt his core start to run out of Ether. He paused his barrage to draw more of the energy into himself. The professor sped up the moment he stopped attacking, closing the remaining distance within a second.
Damien hardened every portion of his mage armor moments before Delph drove his knee into his chest. Armor slammed against armor, and Damien skidded back a foot, but the strike hadn't harmed him. Delph unleashed a flurry of blows on Damien, draining his Ether faster than he could recover it.
"This is why you don't harden every part of your armor!"
Delph said calmly as he beat on Damien. "You stopped moving because it was all frozen, and now you can't release it without taking a strike. When you run out of Ether, you'll lose."
Damien pressed his lips together and didn't respond. He only had two motes of Ether left. He channeled them into a Gravity Sphere. He allowed the armor to soften and tossed the orb a few feet behind Delph.
His reward was several strikes that slammed into his now-unprotected flesh with meaty thuds. Damien's gritted his teeth as pain tore through his concentration. Behind Delph, the Gravity Sphere detonated, yanking the professor off his feet.
Damien lunged forward while the professor was off balance. He drove his fist into Delph's chin with all the force he could muster. The strike connected, but it was Damien who leapt back, swearing in pain and holding his hand. Delph didn't even lose his balance.
"What the planes is wrong with you? Why is your skin so hard?" Damien, taking several steps away from the professor.
Delph rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I was protecting myself against the force of your magic. I didn't expect you to try to punch me in the face."
Damien discretely gathered Ether while the other man spoke.
"Why not? Is it a bad idea?" Damien asked.
"For the tournament? No, so long as your opponent doesn't have defense like mine," Delph said. "And they won't. In the future, though, avoid hand to hand combat unless you've got something to protect your hands from impact."
"Understood," Damien said, channeling a Gravity Sphere. Delph still hadn't said the fight was over.
Delph chuckled. "You can release the spell. This fight is over."
Damien let out a sigh of relief and allowed the spell to fade. He shook his stinging hand out with a grimace.
"I notice you didn't use the enlarge spell," Delph observed.
"It didn't seem like it would do much against you," Damien replied. "You're too fast, and I think you're strong enough to break anything I enlarge. The Gravity Spheres were more likely to slow you down."
"Good assessment," Delph said, giving Damien another nod. "You still have a lot to improve on, but you're adequately prepared for the tournament. Take the next few days easy and relax. Let your body completely heal, so no training at all."
"Okay." Damien nodded, discretely rubbing his arm. His heart was still pumping from their fight, but as the adrenaline faded, the bruises Delph had given him made themselves known. "Ah…how well do you think I'll do in the tournament?"
"Hard to say," Delph replied. "If you use your head, you have a shot of making it to the finals. Your Space magic is quite strong. It will do a lot more damage to the students than it did to me. You might actually have to be careful to avoid killing them."
Damien thought back to the rock walls shattering under the force of the spell and nodded grimly. He could imagine what it would do to an unprotected human body.
"Don't worry too much," Delph said, spotting the look on Damien's face. "Just don't aim for their head. There will be some very powerful healers on the field."
"Alright," Damien said. "Thank you for your help, Professor. And…do you think I can win the tournament?"
Delph tilted his head. Then he shrugged. "At this stage?
It's unlikely. We've got some real impressive first years. I don't think you've got enough experience to win the whole thing, but you have a very good chance at it in the future."
That was higher praise than Damien had expected. He gave Delph a small nod of appreciation.
"Thank you," Damien said. "I suppose I'll see you at the tournament, then."
"I suppose you will," Delph replied, cracking a miniscule smile as Damien headed back to his room.
On the morning that marked two week's passing, Damien still knew absolutely nothing about the ranking battles other than they would happen today. He and Sylph awoke at the same time as a slip of brown paper drifted down through the air.
Sylph was out of bed first before Damien was even fully upright. She plucked the note out of the air and scanned over it before letting out a frustrated huff.
"It just says we need to show up at the portal at the base of the mountain," Sylph said, pursing her lips. "Still no actual information about the tournament."
Damien joined her in sighing, pulling his cloak on. He'd long since gotten used to getting woken up suddenly, so he wasn't particularly tired. His nerves felt frayed, and his stomach was jittery.
He pulled his status screen out, checking his progress over the past few weeks of training one last time.
Damien Vale Blackmist College Year One Major: Undecided Minor: Undecided Companion: [Null] Magical Strength: 4.5 Magical Control: .53 Magical Energy: 9.1 Physical Strength: .3 Endurance: .7 All his growth had started to slow a little after the initial bursts, but he was still more than happy with his progress.
Despite that, he felt nowhere near ready enough for the tournament.
"Calm down," Henry said. "It's not like this is life and death. Your nervousness will only make this harder."
Easy for you to say. You aren't the one who's fighting.
"Bah. Your emotions are making it crowded inside your head. Get control of them."
Damien rolled his eyes. He and Sylph stepped out of the room, which still didn't have a door. Mark and the Gray siblings emerged at the same time.
Mark's armor had grown wilder. Extra patches of furry hide had been stitched into it, making him look like an animal himself. Nolan and Reena both wore light, flexible armor made of a shimmering green metal.
"Are you ready for the tournament?" Nolan asked as the five of them headed down the mountain path.
"I'll crush anyone who tries me," Mark said, licking his lips. "I don't care either way if I win or not as long as the fights are good."
"That must be nice," Reena said, jealousy evident in her tone. "Our father is watching this tournament, so Nolan and I have to compete."
"Don't worry," Sylph said. "There are likely to be a lot of very strong competitors. It's unlikely that either of you will make first place, so you just have to focus on performing well."
"Somehow, that doesn't make me feel better," Reena grumbled.
Damien had to agree with the blonde girl. Sylph was horrible at inspirational speeches. They arrived at the portal a few minutes later. Delph was already leaning against the arch, tapping his foot on the ground.
"Good," Delph said. "Punctuality is important, and you're all on time. Are you ready? I would be very disappointed if you underperform."
The professor's voice had a dangerous undertone that sent chills down Damien's back.
"We still don't know anything about the tournament," Damien said, crossing his arms. "How are we supposed to know if we're ready?"
"Very rarely will you know the exact conditions of what you face," Delph replied, not letting an opportunity to lecture them go to waste. "You've got a general idea, and that's usually what we've got to work with."
He gestured for them to follow him and stepped through the portal. They appeared in the Central Courtyard, which already had several other groups of students and what were likely their instructors funneling through a large portal at the left side of the obsidian tiled area.
Delph didn't wait to see if they'd gotten sick from the teleportation. He headed straight for the portal, and they all rushed to keep up with him. Damien once again found himself thankful that all the teleporting he'd done recently had helped build up a resistance to the unsettling feeling.
They waited in a line for a few moments before reaching the front and entering the swirling darkness.
Damien's feet hit sand. They stood in another arena, but this one was much bigger than the colosseum Delph had been training them in. The stands were chock full of spectators, and the dull roar of chatter filled the arena like a swarm of furious flies.
There were a dozen large, raised circular platforms scattered throughout the arena. A single person stood atop each one.
Before Damien could get a better look, Delph herded the five students toward an open spot in the sand and away from the portal.
"Can you at least tell us anything about the tournament now?" Nolan asked.
"The rules will be explained soon," Delph replied.
"Besides, I think you should be able to get the general idea by looking around."
"There are going to be multiple matches at once, with the victors moving forward," Sylph said. "How many students are in the tournament?"
"No clue," Delph replied with a shrug. "I don't care. Just win your fights."
Luckily for Damien's nerves, it didn't take much longer for the tournament to begin. Dean Whisp flew over the arena and snapped her fingers. The sound echoed through the sky like an explosion. Conversations died as everyone turned to look up at the woman.
"Welcome to the ranking battles," Dean Whisp called, her voice easily understandable despite her distance. "We will be starting shortly. Professors, please distribute the arena numbers to your students. Judges, prepare to begin the tournament."
Delph reached into his cloak and pulled out a sheaf of brown papers, handing one of the numbers to all of them.
The paper had Damien's name and the number four on it.
"Students, once you get your number, please head to the appropriate ring. The rules will be explained shortly," Dean Whisp called. Before anyone could ask how to find the appropriate arena, glowing numbers the size of a small building blinked to life above each of the platforms.
Damien glanced at Sylph, who showed him her paper, which had 'one' written on it.
"Good luck," Damien told Sylph.
"And to you as well," Sylph replied as the group of students scattered for their respective stages. "Don't get knocked out before the finals."
"And the same to you," Damien said, locating the stage with the floating four above it and setting out toward it.
Loretta trailed after him.
The stage wasn't too far away, so it was only a short walk. Damien arrived at a small crowd of around a dozen students. Loretta walked up beside him a few moments later.
"We're both at the fourth stage?" Damien asked.
"Apparently so." Loretta nodded, pulling out her paper and showing it to Damien. Her eyes flicked around the group of students surrounding them, and she shifted her weight from foot to foot.
Anyone in my group seem strong?
"I can't risk checking right now," Henry said. "The dean is too close, and there are a dozen other people who might notice me if I did anything. You're on your own for this one, Damien."
Wonderful.
Damien looked around the group. Most of the students sent each other wary glances, and they didn't look much more put together than Loretta did.
His eyes caught on one boy who had a large book strapped to his waist. Unlike the other students, the boy seemed mostly calm. He glanced up and made eye contact with Damien for an instant, but he broke away a moment later.
Nobody seems too strong, but I guess with magic it hardly matters.
"You'll need to learn how to sense magical energy pretty soon," Henry said. "It'll help you in situations like these, although it's possible to conceal your energy. I'm doing it almost constantly, actually. We'd be discovered in minutes if I didn't."
Something to look forward to after the tournament.
"Indeed," Henry said.
The judge standing on the stage above them cleared his throat to gather the students' attention. He had a middle length white beard and was balding. His features were wrinkled and aged by the sun, but that didn't conceal the slight twinkle in the man's eyes.
"The tournament will begin very shortly," the judge informed them. "There will be four qualifying rounds. The winners will progress, and that will continue until there is a single winner from each stage. There are twelve students per stage, so the student who has the most decisive victory in the initial and second rounds will be able to skip the third round of combat. Eight of the stages are dedicated to you first years, and the winners of each stage will enter the quarterfinals. Then things will progress as before until the victor is crowned. There will be five-minute breaks between every fight, no more and no less. Does that make sense to everybody?"
Damien and the other students nodded, all too nerve-racked to say anything. The judge chuckled and gave them a toothy grin.
"Don't worry too much, kids. Try to enjoy yourselves. If you're meant to do well, then you will. If you aren't, well, there are other ways to get resources at Blackmist. Just do your best."
Damien and Henry scoffed at the same time, although Damien did his best to hide his reaction. It was typical, the person who didn't have anything at stake was more than happy to tell them there was nothing to worry about.
The dull chatter that had built up while the students moved to their stages suddenly faded.
"Students and faculty of Blackmist," Dean Whisp said, her voice once again reaching Damien's ears as if she were standing right beside him, "get ready for this year's primary ranking battles! I'm sure our students are all anxious to begin, but I had to suffer this in my day, so I'll make them do the same."
The crowd let out some annoyed grumbles, but Dean Whisp kept talking.
"So, before the battles begin, I figured I'd give us all a quick rundown of Blackmist and how we came to be one of the greatest mage academies on the continent!"
The complaints from the spectators grew louder.
"Start the matches, Grandma!" someone yelled over the din.
"I heard that, Frederick," Whisp said, turning to glare at where the voice had come from.
Before she could say anything else, a dozen other voices joined the yelling. Whisp's calm façade cracked, and she let out a laugh.
"Oh, fine. I won't waste any more time. Let the ranking battles begin!"