Realm of Monsters - Chapter 336: The Final Duel

The Heralds’ voices boomed across the coliseum, “MAY THE FINAL MATCH OF THE CHALLENGE OF SPELL & STEEL… BEGIN!”

Belle didn’t waste a split second. She wouldn’t give Stryg a moment to react. She channeled blue mana into her hands and formed a storm spell. Tendrils of azure crackled over her fingers. She threw her hands forward and aimed at Stryg who was standing still—

A beam of light shot out from Stryg’s palm and struck her in the face. The aurum aegis across Belle’s neck trembled to life as golden particles of light formed a shield over her face, stopping the bright spell from searing her skin.

Yet the aegis’ protection did nothing to stop the excruciating light from blinding her. Belle shouted in surprise and stumbled backward, the lightning bolt forming in her hands fired off to the side in an erratic path.

Orange mana filled Stryg’s body and formed into an agility spell, turning his veins a shade darker. He sprinted towards Belle with a burst of speed. He drew Nameless from its sheath and swung the broken blade at her thighs.

Belle’s legs skirted past Nameless’ jagged edge at the last moment. With closed eyes, Belle drew her own longsword and slashed at the goblin in three quick strikes, each slice blending seamlessly into the next.

Stryg grimaced and tried his best to block, but his shattered sword was shy of a foot long, not even a third of its original length. Worse, his limbs were pathetically short in comparison to his foe. Belle’s long arms seemed to almost stretch above and behind him as her blade managed to slip past his defenses.

He jumped back and tried to make some distance, but he could already feel the blood dripping down his arm from the nicks of her blade.

Stryg cast a simple healing spell over his bleeding shoulder as he stared at Belle in frustration. It’s not just her sword skill, she’s much stronger and faster than before. And how can she…?

“How can you fight while blind?” Stryg asked warily.

“Wow, it’s not every day I can surprise you,” Belle laughed in delight, eyes still closed, “My abilities go beyond my sight. My eyes may help, but I don’t need to see to fight you.”

He narrowed his eyes, “How…?”

She leaned forward and tapped the tip of her sword on the sand, “I can still feel the steel of your blade as it moves through the air and I can still sense your thirst for battle emanating off your skin. You may as well be a torch in the dark to me.”

“Is that right?” he muttered.

Belle opened her scarlet eyes and blinked several times. “It’s still a little blurry, but much better. It’s funny, when the match began I thought I was fast enough to hit you first, but your bright spell still got me. You’re quite the quick spell caster.”

“Not quick enough it seems.”

She shrugged, “Meh, maybe, maybe not. If we’re talking about casting skills, Calex was on a whole nother level compared to us, and he still lost to me.”

“Then I’ll have to try something different.” He shifted his feet and fell into one of the five Nature Stances, the only one Gale had deemed him sufficiently proficient to use.

Belle cocked her head to the side, “The Cascade Stance? Really?”

Stryg’s eyes widened in surprise, “How did you…?”

“Ever since I first fought you in the training grounds of the academy I tried to learn more about your fighting style, but once I realized you were training in the fabled Gale Style,” Belle smiled, “Well, let’s just say I took a special interest in your techniques.”

“You’ve been studying me?” he asked, surprised.

“As would any warrior who respects the strength of their opponent,” she said in a sober tone. “It wasn’t easy, but I’ve learned much about the Gale Style this past year, from the stances to the daily training routine. And if there is one thing I truly came to understand about the Gale Style is that it is heavily reliant on a longsword. You can’t properly use the Cascade Stance with that broken blade. Don’t do this.”

“I don’t need your pity nor advice,” Stryg glared at her and gripped Nameless tightly.

He channeled brown mana into his muscles and cast a vigor spell. His body burned from the agility and vigor magic clashing within his body, but he refused to show the pain on his face.

“Double enhancement spells? Impressive,” Belle broke into a grin, “Now I’m getting excited.”

Brown mana flooded her arms, vigor magic enhancing her already indomitable strength.

Belle raised her blade, “Well? What are you waiting f—?”

Stryg dashed at her before she finished. Nameless struck out in a quick slash to her left arm, but then it disappeared and slashed out over her right knee, then it was gone and the jagged blade was stabbing toward her stomach.

Belle moved serenely around each attack, her longsword blocking the blows effortlessly. Yet Stryg did not back, he pushed forward, Nameless shifting in a flurry of steel. The wind slowly began building around his sword and his body as he stepped into the current with smooth shifts of his feet.

Belle’s eyes flickered back and forth and parried his advances. “The Gale Style’s life force techniques are impressive,” she recited calmly in between blocks, “The Cascade Stance’s attacks only grow faster with each strike, until they form a whirlwind that overwhelms your opponent. But if you break the flow of strikes—”

Belle finally stepped forward on the offensive and swung her blade down with blinding speed. Stryg raised Nameless to block and felt his feet buckle underneath him as the overwhelming force of her blade knocked him to the ground.

“—The whole Cascade Stance breaks apart,” Belle said dispassionately.

Stryg looked up at her from the wet sand, the rain drizzling down on them both. A feeling of helplessness crawled over his skin. He didn’t understand, it had only been one strike, just one, and she had disarmed him. How could the difference between them be so great?

As if reading his mind, Belle answered, “I’ve studied the Gale Style’s swordsmanship. I know your skills and I know your weaknesses. That broken blade of yours only makes this easier.”

“I know,” he said through clenched teeth. “But still…”

“Did you think this would be easy?” Belle pointed her blade at his chest. “I’ve been training, studying, and practicing for this fight! I thought that out of everyone here you —The Ebon Aspirant himself— might be a worthy foe. I thought you would understand…” She bit her lip, “Was I wrong?”

Stryg hissed, “You tell me.”

The wet sand exploded underneath them as thorny vines as thick as an orc’s arm sprouted from the ground and lashed out at Belle. She jumped back and slashed away at the vines.

“Yes, this is the Stryg I know!” she laughed happily.

Stryg released his enhancement spells and threw his hands into the sand, channeling more green mana into the earth.

A pair of boulders burst from the arena floor and circled around him, gaining speed. He pulled his arm back as if holding a ball and flung his hand forward; the boulders flew past him like an arrow whizzing in the wind.

Belle stomped her foot into the ground and a large stone wall appeared in front of her. The boulders crashed into the wall and destroyed all the rocks in a shower of granite. Gold speckles of light filtered around Belle as the aegis blocked random bits of stone.

“You’re not the only green mage, you know!” she shouted.

“Neither am I the only blue!” Stryg jumped to his feet and raised his hand into the sky.

The rain around him shivered and paused in its free fall. The droplets began clinging to each other in a massive spear of swirling water.

“Oh, I get it, I defeated you in the blade, so you wish to defeat me in my own magic,” Sylvie muttered. “And I thought I was competitive.”

“Stop pretending like you’re not enjoying yourself,” Stryg said coldly. “You like fighting, in fact, I’m pretty sure you love it.”

Belle couldn’t help but smile angrily, “It’s funny, you’re not like anyone else I’ve met. You don’t hide behind a semblance of civility. You’re more wild, you do what you want and say what you think. I really like that about you… And yet, every time I look at you, I can’t help but feel angry. Why is that?”

Stryg blinked, “…How the fuck should I know?”

He made a quick gesture with his hand and tossed the water spear at her.

Belle glared at him and blocked it with her own water spear. “I was in Ismene’s class too when she taught us that one. I was always quicker on casting it though.”

“You think that makes you a better mage?” he frowned.

“Do you?” Belle’s shadow darkened and formed several whips. “How about black magic?”

She snapped her fingers and the shadow tendrils lashed out at him. Stryg raised his open palm and outstretched fingers and fired off a powerful burst of unrestricted light, destroying the shadow tendrils and blinding the unwary vampiress.

Belle clenched her eyes shut, “Agh! What the fuck!?”

The powerful bright spell had blinded her but not him. His lilac irises had expanded across the whites of his eyes and his sharp pupils had grown thin. To Stryg, the world had fallen dark and the shapes around him were etched in silver outlines. Yet he could still see his opponent clearly.

Stryg poured yellow mana into his hands and cast a wind spell underneath Belle, launching her up into the air. Her heavy body soared twenty-feet above the arena before Stryg’s own shadow tendrils lashed out, grabbed her by the ankle, and flung her into the ground in an explosion of sand.

The crowd cried out in shock at the sudden chain of spells that began and ended in a flash.

“…I think surviving and defeating your enemy makes you a better mage,” Stryg said coldly.

He knew her aegis protected her from incoming attacks, but it did nothing to protect her from a grapple or a fall. She may have been a dire, but she was not a yellow mage, she had no durability scales. A 20-foot crash into the earth would still knock anyone unconscious.

Belle lay on the wet sand, unmoving. She stared at the dark cloudy sky as the rain fell on her skin. To Stryg’s surprise, she groaned in pain and slowly sat up.

“Ugh, dammit, that was a cheap strike,” Belle rubbed her back.

Stryg’s eyes widened, “How can you move…?”

“My body is tougher than it looks.” She pushed herself to her feet and winced, “Still, with these damn dark skies there is very little I can do to heal…”

“What?” Stryg frowned.

Belle chuckled under her breath, “I think I finally understand… why I feel anger towards you. Stryg, you always know exactly what you need to do and you just do it without hesitation. I think I always envied that…”

Golden flames burned across her body and the rain sizzled and evaporated all around her. Stryg took an unconscious step back in fear.

Belle stared at him resolutely, “But things are different now. I know what I want. I want to win this tournament. I am going to win this tournament. And I’m done holding back, even against a friend.”

Stryg swallowed hard. He was hoping to defeat Sylvie before she could use those mysterious golden flames, but it was too late. He couldn’t stop her flames, he had seen Calex try and fail.

Stryg was afraid… but he didn’t want to lose, he didn’t want to let his tribe down…

His eyes wandered towards the crowds, searching for any familiar face, but he dreaded what he might see. What would Feli think? What would Rhian do? What would Maeve say?

Would they try to tell him to keep fighting? That everything would be alright? Or even worse, would they tell him to surrender? To run?

The shame of that cave deep in Vulture Woods slipped over him like a heavy cloak. The screams of his tribemates as he ran away from a foe he couldn’t defeat. Since that night he had tried so hard to become a different goblin. Yet all his instincts were now telling him to run, to concede the duel…

Stryg’s sharp eyes wandered past the thousands of faces. He stiffened, in the middle of the crowd on the west side, he saw her. Loh stood tall, watching him steadily. Their eyes made contact and Loh paused as she noticed the fear and anxiety in his eyes.

She pointed at herself and then at him, and mouthed silently, No matter what, I am proud of you.

As the rain fell, a tear slipped down Stryg’s cheek. The cloak of shame fell away and though the fear lingered, he felt a sense of calm he hadn’t before.

He steadied his breath and channeled all his orange mana into his hands. A torrent of orange flames burned above his hands in a small cyclone of flame, reminiscent of Loh’s favored spell style.

Belle growled in a mixture of excitement and anger. Golden flames exploded out of her palms and clashed with Stryg’s cyclone. As the two fires clashed across the center of the arena in a cage of infernal heat, the golden flame began to devour the cyclone.

Yet Stryg did not stop, he screamed in defiance and channeled what little orange mana he had left as the head threatened to overwhelm him.

To his strange lilac eyes, the world seemed a mixture of darkness, splashed with pastels of gold and orange. It was beautiful and terrifying all the same. Yet none but his eyes noticed the swirl of black and green forming underneath the fires and sands.

Some part of his instincts yelled at him to get away, but his focus was on the flames threatening to overwhelm him.

The swirl of black and green suddenly erupted in a mass of tendrils that coiled around Stryg and Sylvie.

The flames went out and the arena was filled with smoke. The crowds shouted in confusion and tried to crane their necks around, hoping to catch a glimpse of the duelists.

The smoke cleared and the crowds cried out in shock. Stryg and Belle lay on the burned sand, unmoving, vacant eyes wide open.