Black Magus

“Put on your ring.”

My eyes followed the sound of the voice to see Law standing alone on the catwalk above, a few meters away from Grandmaster Vilignin, my forefathers, and the Emperor. A few ways away from them, a slew of other mages and officials stood around weapons racks placed strategically around the catwalk.

Turning my attention back to Law, I flashed my hand at him. Eliciting a subtle response that was quickly repressed as he started his briefing. “For this next assessment, you will be facing Staff Sergeant Velasco in martial combat. For her protection, Velasco will be permitted the use of a single spell or technique for the duration of your match. Conversely, the use of any magic or manipulation on your part is prohibited. There will be one round, with no time limit. The match will be decided when one of you is either defeated or admits their loss. Any questions?”

“None.” I promptly said. Then turned towards Velasco, standing menacingly at the far end of the arena with her fists balled tight enough for the leather in her gauntlets to scream in mad protest.

She stared at me with a quivering, hateful sneer as if I’d done the worst to her or someone she cared about. A form of concentration, I assumed, a technique or mental state used to facilitate the ambient mana swirling around her and condensing into an all-too-familiar form. Mana Skin.

“Get ready!”

Shaking the rising questions aside, I settled into a kickboxing stance and began analyzing her frame and my scanning memories for any exploitable weakness before Law started the match.

In truth, I never had any qualms about hitting women or old people, or even children who decided to play the age-old game with another person. In my eyes, all lives were objectively worthless. Naturally, such a philosophy persisted in this life. That said, I didn’t have the compulsions to go around hurting people on a whim; nor did I wish to save every unfortunate soul I came across. If my goals or the situation called for it, I would heal, kill, mend, and maim with no hesitation or restraint. As I have before.

Thus it went without saying that such views extended to the woman before me. My only thoughts at that moment revolved around how to get this match over as quickly and efficiently as possible. And the only conclusive answer was that I’d have to go in with the intent to kill.

After all, it’d be unwise to underestimate a seasoned staff sergeant.

“Begin!”

At Law’s word, Velasco and I simultaneously kicked off the ground to weave or lunge forth in a blitz toward the arena’s center.

She wound up swinging first, delivering an overhand that forced me back a step. Then back again as she persisted with a straight, hook, and uppercut three-piece.

I feinted as if I’d tripped after dodging the final strike. Falling back, I stared wide-eyed at Velasco reeling in her arm, then saw her adopt a similar gaze once I arched my back and planted my hands on the ground to then push off of my quasi-handstand with everything I had.

After snapping out my legs, my heels dug into Velasco’s ribs, contouring her body around my foot as her momentum halted and reversed from the force of my kick. Yet it pushed her back only a single step. Without pause, I pushed forward the instant the ground returned to my feet with my leg poised to strike. And with a thrust of the hips, I drove my foot into Velasco’s waist. Pushing her back another meter or so, only for her tenacious assault to resume with a powerful kick off the ground.

I sent out a high kick in response. A kick she effortlessly sidestepped and countered by taking hold of the back of my raised thigh and sweeping my leg from under me. Slamming my back against the tiled arena with enough force to knock my head against the ground.

Now properly concussed, I struggled to lock on to Velasco’s visage through my jarred vision before it suddenly darkened. Bringing about a stinging, burning pain that bloomed across my nose and cheeks. Fortunately, however, that blow to my nose served to clear my vision just enough to see Velasco reaching back for another punch. Though late, I dodged my head to the side just enough for her hammer fist to skim my cheek and impact against the ground with a noticeable crack. Without pause, I started shrimping to wiggle my waist from under hers and attain the guard.

With my legs now wrapped around her groin, it was far too easy to keep her rain of strikes out of reach. Amusingly so on my part and visibly frustrating on hers. With a final missed swing at me, however, Velasco’s frustrations grew to an all-time high. With a wrathful scream, she hooked her arms around my legs and threatened to flip me over. Tossing my amiability aside, I countered with kick after kick to her chest and head, forcing enough distance between us for me to roll backward out of safety.

Rather than give chase, though, she stood there in much the same way as she did before the match started. Fists balled with a scornful gaze aimed at me. Now, however, a heaving chest pumping a loud, labored breath through her mouth was added to the picture. Though, that wasn’t to say I had the advantage. I was still concussed and had taken some light blows but considerable damage to my back and face that proved to be rather painful in this fragile body of mine.

Suddenly, the sharp reverberations of metal against stone ripped my concentration from my target. Thankfully, Velasco’s attention had been similarly robbed, resulting in us simultaneously turning to the weapons clattering around the arena. Maces, swords, flails, and most eye-catching of all, daggers and spears. Without thinking, I sidestepped and rolled to the right to pick up a dagger, then lunged backward for a spear and deftly slid the dagger between my belt and the small of my back. Velasco, on the other hand, dove forward for a short sword in front of her and recovered in a roll to resume her charge without breaking stride.

With a backward handspring, I finally manage to retrieve my primary weapon and sent out a thrust on the rebound. Seeing the danger before her, Velasco slammed her foot into the ground and jumped out of the way. Deftly dodging the spearhead by a hairs-breadth. Unrelenting, I continued sending thrust after thrust her way, forcing the Staff Sergeant on the defensive. Though my strikes rarely hit their mark, the constant bobbing and weaving served to worsen Velasco’s fatigue all the same. Something she surely grew to notice, as she began ducking and sidestepping her way closer to me.

Grinning wide at her actions, I swept the spear horizontally overhead, causing her scowl to grow deeper before she ducked and lunged forth, aiming to stab me all the way through.

Just as Velasco’s arm shot forth like a piston, I released the spear to leave it cartwheeling above us while I sidestepped left, reaching behind my back before I kicked off the ground with a thrust of my own. As I hoped, she too sidestepped to the right to dodge my feint, placing her knee right in the path of my roundhouse. As she stumbled to the side a bit, I hastily pulled my foot down and reached my right hand skyward to catch my spear with a resounding smack.

Capitalizing on her opening, I gripped the weapon just below the head and pulled back as I lunged forward with a guttural scream.

Though the spear didn’t penetrate, the force behind my attack was concentrated into the spearhead’s point and went through her mana skin with what felt like little resistance. Her back buckled as she was forced back and down to a knee. However, she kept pushing. And with great force.

And so, I pushed. I moved my grip further back on the haft and used leverage to push her to the ground. And when that failed, I stopped pushing and began kicking, stamping her face with my boot again and again, prompting Velasco to let out a guttural scream of her own and rock onto her back to try and throw me off of her. Following her lead, I tossed the spear aside and jumped onto her like a crazed spider monkey, pinning her arms to the ground with my knees before I started pummeling her with the dagger’s pommel again and again.

Ignoring the mind-numbing thumps impacting against the top and back of my head, I continued assaulting Velasco’s mana skin until visible cracks started forming on the vibrantly blue surface. And soon after, the skin finally shattered into trillions of glass-like particles just as a particularly mind-numbing kick slammed into the back of my head. In desperation, I remembered the lingering whispers that plagued me when using my most powerful spell and found a bit of rage in my subconscious to latch onto.

Seething and screaming, I cast aside my perception of visible light and focused only on the atmosphere of energy surrounding us, contouring our bodies into abstract outlines. Then, using all of my strength, I brought the pommel down on the depression of energy that was her eye. I was rewarded with a distant, wet crunch and the feeling of her body squirming beneath me, so I brought the pommel down again on the other depression. Then again on the L-shaped contour that was her throat before I tossed the dagger aside as well.

After prying one of her hands from her face without resistance, I took my time in establishing an armbar and consequently shattered her elbow; albeit with much effort. Velasco responded in kind with a hoarse scream of bloody murder that transitioned to one of pure rage in the next instant. Only to be canceled out by my heel swiftly ramming into her jaw, knocking her out cold.

Finally.

With my sudden relaxation, the enraging memories returned to the pit of my subconscious, sending the damage that’d been pushed away rushing to the forefront of my mind. My chest and back, nose, and most of all, my head was painfully pounding like the steps of a giant echoing across a peaceful dale. So I tossed Velasco’s arm aside and lay there for a few seconds. Fighting the pain back to that place in the back of my mind while I waited for my vision to clear to a manageable level.

Within a few moments or minutes, the distant cheers of the crowd began to grow louder and louder, and a few seconds later, I felt a firm grip embrace me around the shoulder. My reflexes kicked in at that moment, bringing my leg up and around toward whoever was touching me. Only for another hand to catch me around the ankle.

Focusing my eyes brought Law’s incensed visage into view. He was holding my ankle, blocking my leg from hitting a hooded and masked figure leaning over my head. “I’ll give you a pass because you’re on the brink of consciousness, but you’ll be punished and disqualified if you attempt to assault my subordinate again.”

Even if I could’ve, I wouldn’t have paid his threat any mind. My hand still would’ve been raised and I still would’ve put nearly all my effort into muttering. “The… ring.”

I saw his blurred brows curl in displeasure before they rose in curiosity. Then, he reached down and slipped the ring off my finger, releasing the blockade imposed upon my mana well.

The sudden wave of death mana blooming from my body seemed to unconsciously force Law and his subordinate back a meter or two. However, I could hardly pay them any mind at that point, as the torturous process of having my bones and organs shift back into place and stitch themselves together plagued the arena with a symphony of cracking bones and horrid screams that ended with the taste of iron lingering in the air and a healthy but bloodied half-elf standing amiably in the center of the arena.

Once Velasco was carried off, Law turned to me and monotonously said. “Congratulations on your victory.” Before jerking his thumb over his shoulder to a corridor leading below the bleachers. “Rest up in there and wait for the others to finish their matches.”

Although I didn’t see the point in not allowing us to view the other matches after going ourselves, I followed his instructions and migrated to a spacious, underground lounge. Dozens of booths, tables, and sofas were arranged around the perimeter of the room while a food bar took up the center space. Looking around, I saw Abulot brooding in the far corner. So I moved to the opposite end to go through the new questions burning in my mind before I meditated the time away.

---

After some time, a cascade of thunderous steps began to creep into my senses, stirring me from my half-conscious state just in time to see all the big wigs enter and gaze about the lounge with mixed looks of excitement and expectation.

“Congratulations on making it to the end of the assessment,” Grandmaster Vilignin said. “First, I want to assure you all that there is no risk of you being mortally wounded in this final test. Your opponent will show restraint in that regard, but will not hold back otherwise. Your scores thus far have been used to match you with an enemy that will challenge the lot of you.

“Or, so we hope.” She smirked, then stepped aside with a gesture to Law.

“The conditions for the assessment are as follows,” he said. “Your opponent will remain idle while you showcase the offensive capabilities of each of your magical affinities. After that, you are to showcase the defensive capabilities of your magic before defeating your opponent in any way you can. You are allowed to heal yourself or be healed no more than three times during your match. Healing more than three times, admitting defeat, or losing consciousness will result in twenty-five out of fifty points being deducted from your total score.

“Furthermore,” Law added with a raised finger. “The order in which you will fight has been decided by the spectators above. So, if there are no questions, we ask that Rosso DaVinci make his way to the arena. As for the rest of you, remain here and await your turn.”