Chapter 54

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CAERA DENOIR

Pulling up my own sword, I easily blocked the lighting Lance's attack. My blade was locked with his shaft, a stalemate. Sparks flew in a dramatic fashion, showing the both of us in a storm of tiny lighting bolts. I let the mana from my horns flow into my blade, coating it in the black fire of the Vritra. I titled my center of gravity, and forced his spear to slide down my blade. His brief opening was all I needed.

I put one foot forward, which added more gravity to my swing. I brought my sword from his shoulder all the way down to his hip in a diagonal fashion. He was a Lance for a reason, because he tilted his body away from the end of the slash to minimize the damage and shallow the cut.

My soul fire jumped from my blade to his open wound. He didn't seem to flinch at all. I could even feel him pushing his own mana into the flames to dispel them. It was almost as if he didn't know what soul fire did. And it clicked. He really didn't.

Hiding my smile, I let my fire vanish as it was overrun by lighting. At that, Bairon looked oddly smug but didn't say anything, simply letting him bask in his assumption. Unfortunately, our simple blow trading had Valen and Enola kissing the ice. In any other circumstance I would've found it hilarious and taken a photo.

I enhanced both my arms and legs, bending forwards. Simultaneously, I poured mana into my wind boost crest. In one fell swoop, I rocketed forwards and slammed my body into his. At the same time, I used my sword as a shield and soul fire to insulate my hands.

The small distance combined with my sudden acceleration sent us both flying into the mist of the battle field. Our landing was so forceful, that a few Alacrayn's went flying— their bodies mangled beyond recognition.

The small distance between the two of us combined with my sudden acceleration and subsequent disregard for proper footing had us flying into the mist away from my friends and dead center in no man's land. Our landing was so abrupt and explosive that Alacryan's too close were sent flying. A few of them even died, their mangled bodies hitting their allies.

All of this happened in a few short seconds.

Bairon flew just a bit further than me, leaving a two meter distance between us. There was a moment of inactivity between the two of us, simply gauging the other. One had years of experience being a white core mage, while the other was a Vritra-blooded mage trained by a Scythe and a king from another world.

"You really do care for your friends. Unexpected, but ultimately meaningless," the lighting Lance spat, right before launching himself at me, spear aimed at my stomach. I twisted my body just enough to let it pass by me harmlessly. Using my twisted center of gravity, I thrusted my sword forwards only for it to be blocked by a lighting shield.

The clash between a shield and sword formed a shock wave that hurled anyone nearby away from us. Again, seeing people rag dolling through the air would've been funny if not for my current situation.

Bairon refused to give into my faint of a sword lock, preferring to use his lighting as ranged attacks, only doing anything significant if I got close. I minimized my use of soul fire, waiting and waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike. A trick I again learned from Grey and his bad habit of holding back his elements.

Bairon backed off, jumping over the battle and hovering over his own troops. My instincts screamed at me to dodge. Tilting my head just a bit, a flash passed by searing my hair and landing on the ground right behind me and between the legs of a fallen soldier who looked relieved.

A quick glance told me it was a lighting projectile so hot it melted through the reinforced ice with ease. I gave him a smug smile, bluffing my strength in hopes he messed up. "Hasn't your mama ever told you not to play with knives? You might've taken someone's eye out."

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