The Third Step: Chapter Thirty-Five

I stepped through a cloud of ash, Dusk casting a spell that held off the waves of deadly smoke and smog, then into view of the final fourth gate challenge. I’d seen him before, a tall man wearing a long, tan naval coat, with a pair of long, slightly off center knives. He had one foot atop the throat of Ed, and when he spotted me, he tilted his head to one side, dark eyes studying me. Ed let out a rattling gasp, and the man twitched his hand. An instant later, hot blood streaked through the air, splattering on my shoes. 

Even though I knew that I was in the Elysian Mastery Tournament orb, a part of me couldn’t help but feel a spike of fear and anger at the scenario. It was well crafted, better even than the temporary illusion that the Flock had kept me within. I could smell the smoke, the ash, the blood, and the unpleasant tang of unwashed bodies. It was uncanny, and a good reminder that I should never upset the Dreamer or any other powerful mentalist. 

I set that thought aside as I raised my hand. This was not my first time fighting against this conjured man in the orb, but I hoped that it would be my last, and I was prepared. Mantle Dragonfyre sparked, then blasted at the man, even as Dusk fired off a powerful Sandstorm Lance to his left, and Dawn unleashed a streak of Tyrant’s Breath to his right. 

The man’s mana type was impossible to sense, and I suspected that it was one of the conditions of the test. It was actually possible, given that he wasn’t real and that this was an entirely constructed situation, that he didn’t technically have mana, but that sort of abstraction wasn’t useful right now.

Whatever his powers were, in the last two fights against him, I’d identified one core component: speed. He was faster than I was on foot, much faster than Dawn’s flight speed, and could even briefly outpace Dusk on her cloud – though once Dusk had time to really get going, I was confident she would be faster in the long run. While he was fast, it was clearly an enhancement to his abilities, more in line with the overwhelming physical might of Ivy than it was the supernatural perfection of Ikki. 

That was why we opened with a three-pronged spread of attacks, trying to force him to dodge into the path of one of them. We had tried to use Kludde’s Weight and Fungal Lock to pin and slow him down once before, but the same effect of the trial that forced my mana senses off of him had completely negated the beast spell. Fungal Lock had worked, but he’d been able to conjure up a red shell of power to burn them away in an instant, and then had used a power that sent arcs of swordlight at us to take us out one at a time. No, while Fungal Lock and my other containment magic had its place, but I had to time it right.

Unfortunately for us, while we had seen his speed, offense, and defensive powers, it was quickly made apparent that he had more than just those to offer. The man leapt into the air, dodging over all of our attacks, brandishing his blades and slashing out. Twin arcs of swordlight raced toward us, and I spun, flinging out balls of Foxfyre from each hand even as Dusk and Dawn both flew to either side of me to dodge. 

Unfortunately, the swordlight effect must not have been made of solidified mana, as the Foxfyre burnt them, but didn’t completely break them apart the way it normally would have. I crossed my arms over my face, even as my Ivy Cloak swept out, my Briarthreads spun to block the hit, and my Fungal Armor hummed with power, enhanced by Arthur’s Dominion. The attack from the stronger mage crashed over me, and then he landed and was thrusting his swords at my face. 

I Foxstepped to the side, even as he turned and swiped. I Foxstepped again, a little further, and took the wave of swordlight on my cloak and armor, then teleported into melee and slammed my hand at him, casting Foxthorn. Before the injection of crystalizing mana could enter his spirit, he had slipped into my guard and was driving his sword at my throat. If not for my defensive spells, I’d have lost the challenge, but they held off the attack long enough for me to teleport away, leaving an echo in my place. He crushed it, and there was an instant of confusion as the temporal mana shattered beneath his strike. 

It was enough. 

I thrust my hand out and began to weave together magic. I used Harvest Plant Life and Fungal Entwinement to draw power from my ninelight morels and send it coursing into Fungal Lock. Even as I did, I wove mana into Fungal Siphon and Enhance Forging, further empowering the draining and strength of the locking spell. Ghostly mycelial tendrils erupted all over him, even as my familiars struck.

Dusk and Dawn had been waiting for their opportunity, ever since they had dodged the man’s swordlight. Dawn had conjured a ring of her golden crystals that drained away strength and mana alike, and launched them like spears surrounding her Tyrant’s Breath. 

Dusk didn’t have any particular spell that served as a big finishing attack, but that wasn’t really her style. Instead, she caused a dozen hands of earth to erupt upward and grab onto the man’s feet, further binding him in place, while unleashing a shockwave, globes of snow, and spikes of sand. In the same instant, she opened a portal above the man’s head, and the acid from the frozen pitcher plants poured over his head. 

I was mostly focused on binding him in place, but I did unleash four Pinpoint Boneshards to fire off at the man, just in case they would be of any help. 

The magic smashed against the man, and an instant later, red light began to gleam from the spot where he had been standing. An instant later he strode forward, spinning his swords, and threw arcs of swordlight at each of my familiars. I cursed under my breath. He’d just taken that entire wave of attacks like it was nothing at all. He might not have a whole lot of diversity in his magic, but his abilities had an absurd degree of potency. 

I teleported in front of him and threw an elbow at his face, then tried to think of it as if he was an ordinary mage, shifting my style to a purely defensive one as I turned and wove out of the way of another wave of swordlight. Maybe if I could figure out how his magic worked, I’d be able to find a weakness. 

Alright. Mana type. Solar seemed like the obvious pick. 

The swordlight was probably a hefty first gate spell modeled after Force Blade, only using waves of light, though it might be something else, and I suspected that there was a natural treasure or some other mana type involved to let it cut so effectively. Given its strength, and the man’s overall simplistic style, I was betting it was a single spell gate, focusing all of his first gate’s growth onto that one spell. There was nothing I could do specifically to counter that, other than let my Fungal Armor grow adapted to the swordlight or to dodge. 

His speed and second gate could both be explained by having a full-gate spell that used the speed and buffing aspects of solar mana to improve his magic. That probably meant I couldn’t really rely on wearing him down, as he’d remain empowered and faster, but I actually had a strength advantage. I also had a mobility advantage – he was faster than I was in both a fight and in a sprint, but he wasn’t faster than a teleportation spell when it came to moving around the battlefield. 

If the rest of his garden followed the same pattern, that meant he’d either have two or six more tricks, depending on if he used true single spell gates, or if it was more like my Fungal Armor or Combat Echo, eating up an ascension within a gate, but not the entire gate itself.

Given that his shell was so powerful, I was guessing – or perhaps hoping – that it was the former. One of either his third or fourth gates being devoted to powering that shell would handily explain how it had shrugged off attacks from a fourth gate world spirit and peak third gate dragon without even cracking. If I could get him to hold the technique for longer than an instant, I could potentially use Foxfyre to put a hole through it, but so far he’d been extremely judicious in his application of the shell. 

That left him with one gate unaccounted for. I supposed it could be the veil, but I doubted it. That seemed more like a restriction of the orb than anything, and given the rest of the style of his garden, I was willing to bet that it was dedicated to increasing his mana regeneration rate. Another full-gate spell was unusual, but it would fit with this style of simple but powerful fighting, and it would give him the complete set of offense, defense, speed, and regeneration. It was a powerful strategy to be certain. It gave him an abundance of power and neigh endless stamina. 

But it did come with some downsides. Outside of a strictly combat situation, he would have essentially no power at all, and even within combat, he was far less flexible than even strict combat mages like Liz. That wasn’t too helpful for me right now, since I couldn’t exactly challenge him to an alchemy or enchanting contest, so I focused on what other weaknesses came with the style. It depended heavily on being able to use the swordlight and shell spells, which… 

That one, I could do something about. 

I turned and punched at him, then lashed out with a palm strike. He slipped aside from them both, and I kept pressing hard. I kicked and punched, then wove out of the way of his counterattacks, even as I communicated my plan to my familiars, and they began charging a second round of attacks. I threw heavy blows, letting the man get good counter-attacks in.

“I’ll wear you down eventually,” I lied. It was possible that the chatter wouldn’t have any effect on him, but I hoped to seed the idea. Gradually, my hits became less and less powerful – partially planned, as I wanted to lure him into a false sense of security, and partially unplanned, as throwing that many heavy punches and kicks really was tiring. 

Then, as he began to relax and press his attacks harder, I struck. I let my power flare back to life, cast a spell, teleported behind him, and slammed my palm into his chest. Foxthorn jabbed deep into his spirit, and crystallized mana rushed through his garden, locking away his spells. Clearing them off would take an effort of mana manipulation, but for that precious half-second, his shell was unusable. 

Dusk and Dawn attacked, unleashing a second wave of deadly attacks even as I teleported away. This time, when they crashed over him, he vanished. Dawn wiggled contentedly, while Dusk threw up her hands and cheered in victory. 

“Not quite,” I said, shaking my head. “There are thirty-one scenarios, remember? This was the finale of peak fourth, and our thirtieth challenge. That means one more: an Arcanist challenge.”

As if on cue, light began to bloom from the spot where the warrior had once been, and it formed into a door. This one was much more elaborate than any of the previous ones that I’d managed to see, and I checked my reserves. They were drained, far too drained for now. 

“Next time?” I asked my familiars. They agreed, so I drained my vial of poison and returned to the real world.