The spell came out of my hand naturally, desperately, more like a muscle-memory reaction rather than a planned maneuver. My trained body noticed an opportunity, and decided to use it, or die.

The dispelling curse-word flew over the air, like a small mist of near impossible to observe magic cloud, before sinking into Rowan’s blade-holding hand, seeping its way beneath the tissue, fat, muscle and nerves, locating the still fresh enchantment pulsating within his body.

My opponent was already mid-air, unable to change his trajectory, so even though he noticed my weird non-combat stance, one that’d be taken by a mage, he could not react to it.

In the next moment, his eyes bulged in shock and pain, dropping his sword and ‘flying’ behind me. He collapsed onto the floor, screaming in pain, holding his arm close to his body while rolling.

“ARRRRRRGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!”

As if all the energy had been taken from their sails the audience became silent, watching over the unexpected change of pace, no one knowing what had just happened. Or should I say - almost no one. Ana - the mage from the Black Foxes was pale and sweating all over her face, now rushing towards her superior, whispering something into his ear at a break-neck rate, spreading her pale-ness now onto him, as if it was contagious disease.

With his wails increasing in pitch I looked down at my enemy, now so very unable to fight, I decided to take several steps back. Attacking a man that was unable to defend himself was not knight-ish, and I had the Lion’s Pride to maintain, even if I knew that if the situation would be different. If it was me lying over there, I could only hope for such courtesy, and I was even more than completely sure that he would be just gloating over me, preparing to finish me off.

Medics, who were waiting just behind the arena, were looking nervously at each other, not sure whether they should act or not. Could they even help? They were not allowed to enter the stage, not until the arbiter proclaimed the match’s end with one side’s victory. What was the arbiter doing then - and actually who was it to begin with? Unfortunately, everything pointed that it would be the same person that started the duel - the white haired bizzare man, that everyone seemed to not notice, and he? He was just sitting there, cross-legged, hands diving into his pocket, picking a single coin, which he then put between his thumb and pointing fingers, shooting it up in the air.

Time seemed to slow as I saw the coin rise and leave his hand. It spun several times before he could catch it, twist it, and place it on top of his other forearm, uncovering it and checking the result. Then, he tilted his head slightly and gave me an apologetic smile, before pointing back at Rowan in a ‘you don’t want to miss this’ manner.

Gods and their stupid games. And so I did just that, only to notice that his screams became even louder somehow, turning into a high pitched fever squeak, like a pig being slaughtered by an inexperienced butcher with the dullest knife in his arsenal, this sound I knew too well. I could only assume the sort of agony he was going through - to make a grown man who was full of such pride and ego as himself, an arguably experienced fighter - to scream like that? May heavens have mercy on him…

But then, something far worse started to happen. His body started to change. Growing thicker, wider, as a mass of flesh started bulging, ripping the sleeves of his jacket, revealing absurdly thick and long inhuman forearms. They were now more like a mass of wriggling worms of bone and sinew.

Slowly, he started to get up, looking in my direction while also taking into account the changes his body was still undergoing.

“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME?! WHAT CURSE IS THIS!” he screamed, with bloodshot eyes and a mad gaze “...YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE! YOU FALSE KNIGHT!”

Without even waiting for response, he bolted forward, across the pillar-walls, completely not caring about the obstacles, running at them… and with a single swing of his new, mutated arm-club, collapsing them.

Thinking quickly, I feigned taking a defensive stance, as if I wanted to stop him with my shield, thus using it to hide my body stance from Rowan, while putting my right leg awkwardly further behind. As he pounced at me, I moved my body mass onto my rear leg, spinning my body, letting him pass through, as I slashed vertically. Drops of blood fell on the arena as a nasty wound appeared on his limb. In a normal situation, I would have an upper hand right here, as his limb would be too mutilated to function, thus pushing him to defense.

But, it rather seemed as if he didn’t even register my attack, and scabs of blood already started forming along my slash-mark, stopping the bleeding.

The magic in his body had gone wild - the spell formation was broken and now mana was flooding his body, looking for any way to leave. And it did, my magic sense registered huge doses of mana-steam coming from every pore on him, still, laying waste to every tissue they moved past. Twisting muscles, building new tissues, forming smaller appendages, rotting others, all granting him, at least temporarily, inhuman strength and healing.

Rowan, after my counter, fell on his face into the dirt, but rather quickly ‘punched’ the floor, forcing himself upright, spinning in place and running back.

He used to be an agile, sly warrior, looking for opportunities to deliver precise, devastating attacks - nothing of that remained, as pain turned him into a rabid animal ruled by instinct.

Still, even drugged with mana, his body remembered certain patterns, executing moves without conscious thought. To me - it meant trouble. A powerful swing came from my left, as a mutated hand flew in my direction. I dug my feet in the ground, raising my shield, ready to block the attack, but it didn’t come. Not from there at least. Using the momentum generated by his body’s movement Rowan dropped to his knee, delivering a sweeping kick, which indeed sent me to the floor.

From above, I saw his fist, about to hammer my head. Barely in time I rolled to the side, only to notice that tile on which my head rested just a second ago was pulverized into dust. With that, I knew that if this attack would have landed, both my helmet and my skull would share the tile's fate.

Back in the stands Zariel had pulled out a gold inlaid pocket watch and was shaking it back and forth, looking at it closely as if it owed him money, before smiling slightly and putting it away. I was too busy trying not to become dust to give this much thought however.

Rowan was clearly dedicated to finishing me off with a single blow. He kept on raising his arm, pulverizing the ground as I kept on desperately dodging, each strike being missed by a hair’s breadth, by a single heart beat’s worth of indecision.

Eventually, finding a small window of time, I managed to raise my leg and tried to kick at the man turned monstrosity, now standing above me, but, despite my feet landing perfectly onto his solar plexus, he did not so much as budge an inch.

Seeing him getting ready for another skull-crushing punch, I began to kick his core faster and faster. It felt like I was hitting solid rock.

WORK! GOD DAMN IT! JUST NEED SOME ROOM!

Again, again and again, none of the kicks seemed to bear any effect.

I started desperately looking for any other form of saving myself. More direct curses were out of the question - if I used dark magic here, in the middle of the city, in front of hundreds of witnesses, my career in Lions would be very short-lived, but my date with the local church would be assigned for the very same day. Likely not at a nice restaurant with a great view.

Kick, and kick and kick, all were useless, as Rowan joined both of his arms above his head, about to slam me with an even faster and stronger attack.

ANYTHING! GOD DAMN IT!

In a desperate action, I decided to generate my own mana in my feet, an unstable cluster of energy fueled by will rather than a Skill, that dangerously tingled in my bones.

You are about to use [Mana Eruption] This unlearned skill might hurt the caster, are you sure you want to proceed? Yes No

YES!

One more kick, but this time, as soon as my feet landed on his belly, for a short duration, a bright, blue light sparkled, and a small explosion formed between us, pushing us several meters away and most importantly. Apart!

Armor endurance 81.8% -> 68.4% Your armor rating dropped below 75% From now on, damage will be mitigated by smaller amount You suffered [71] magic damage

Tumbling on the ground likely dozens of times I eventually came to a rest. Without a second thought I leapt back onto my feet and was once again grateful for my undead constitution. That blow had left a sizable hole in his belly that continued right through him.The backflow from that would have shattered and pulverized my muscle and bone had I still been a human. By all accounts Rowan should have been a dead man already as well after that but instead he had gotten up faster than me and now had an even angrier twisted expression.

His cheeks were pale, purple veins were pulsating under his skin, eyes were completely red and a trickle of blood was coming down his nose. Here and there parts of flesh were peeling off, showing dark splotches of muscle and bone. His body, sent into overdrive, was literally falling apart.

He kicked the ground, like a wild, angered bull, and blurred at me one more time.

Heart will reach new level in 0m3s Warning! [Heart of Navok] has absorbed enough mana and reached 3rd level Warning! User in [Area of Effect] of [Heart of Navok] - level 3 All [Stats] reduced by 25%

Healing effects reduced by 15%

Stamina restoration effects reduced by 25%

Lesser Stamina drain - [User] will lose 5 point of Stamina every 3 minutes

Heart will reach new level in 24m59s Warning! [User’s race marked as [Undead]]

[[Heart of Navok] will have an alternative effect]

All [Stats] increased by 25%

[Dark Arts] effect increased by 25%

[Mana Cost] for skills reduced by 25%

Lesser mana regeneration - [User] will restore 5 point of mana every 3 minutes

While in presence of heart - [User] will receive 5 point of [Essence] every 7 minutes

Heart will reach new level in 24m44s

Like a sudden game reversal I noticed Rowan missing a step while he ran at me, stumbling briefly. His dexterity was greatly reduced, especially now, as more of his magic-resistant armor was filled with more and more holes. Still, he resumed the charge as I readied myself for my counter.

My instincts were getting sharper, allowing me to see the world as if it was moving through a lazy river.

Deciding to use my newly gained reflex, I responded, rushing at him myself. Shield raised in front of me, it was serving as a bulwark of protection and a way to disturb his line of sight.

He swung his right, mutated arm, but this time I also noticed muscles on his left leg flexing - another feint, pretending that I was about to shield myself from his arm I kept on running, stopping only 2 meters in front of him, and digging my feet into the ground, dropping on my knee, shielded arm up, while my blade thrust through his leg, which, indeed, he used to kick me.

My sword came out the other side of his thigh, changing my grip. I twisted the handle, and thus, the blade, within his wound, enlarging it. His blood gushed out, on the ground and all over me.

This move was foolish on my part. Forgetting that I was not the only one unable to feel pain, I didn’t take into consideration that this would not stop his attack in the least.

His leg reached me, and as I was now semi-kneeling, the kick landed directly on my head, one more time sending me a good meter or two behind. Getting up, I noticed Rowan pulling my sword off his leg and throwing it to the side, far, far away from my reach.

If this was a “normal” situation, hand-to-hand combat with mutants was but a death-wish, but, in normal situations, you wouldn’t have a ‘blessing’ making you 25% stronger, faster and more perceptive.

With a corner of my eye I noticed commotion on the spectators' areas, especially those belonging to two Houses. Both Patrik and Nicolai were yelling at one another next to Zariel, which didn’t pay them any attention, way too focused on my duel.

I once again ran at him, without a weapon now, seeing that he did the same. Before our bodies collided, I slightly lowered my body, ducking under his punch, wrapping my arms around his belt, lifting him up, and continuing to run across the arena - into a stone pillar, which soon crumbled from the force of impact. This did not stop my charge though.

Into another, and another, and another, at least ten stone pillars crumbed in my wake, before I finally smashed Rowan onto the arena’s wall, I saw him spit some blood, as I took one step back, raising my fist and…

BAM! BAM! BAM!

His face kept on rebounding onto the wall, which seemed to crumble, little by little from the power of the blows.

My opponent’s eyes were slowly losing focus, as he clearly suffered a concussion.

Still, you can never be too sure with ‘those mana-drunk freaks’, so i once again grabbed him under his belt, and using all the strength I had in my legs, I lifted him up, above me, then bending my backs backward, I slammed him on the ground behind me.

A tavern-brawl maneuver that let me calm down the situation back in Jagna’s inn whenever villagers got too rowdy… If someone would tell me that some KNIGHT would use it to finish a LEGAL DUEL… well, I would buy him another round, and ask him to tell me more of his jokes.

And yet, right here and now, I was getting up, a bit wobbly and dizzy myself, taking a few messy steps back, as if catching balance - only as an act for spectators really, before looking down at Rowan. I certainly wasn’t tired but being in such a high stress situation does still take something out of you.

No more mana-mist was leaving his body, the spell had completely left his system, now, he just lay there, unconscious and heavily wounded. Mouth agape, blood trickling from various pores, occasionally twitching here and there.

“AAAAND ONE! AAAAND TWO… AAAND… TWO AND HALF!... Two and three-quarters? THREE! ROWAN IS NOT GETTING UP, NOT BEING ABLE TO CONTINUE THE FIGHT! What an unexpected way to finish a duel! Ladies, gentlemen, or whatever you feel like being - this battle is won by ALABASTER BLADE OF HOUSE LION!”

However, the audience wasn’t as roused. Between the cries of children and the gasps of others no one was sure what they had just seen. Some started to clap but stopped halfway, unsure of themselves. Was this even a duel? I personally couldn’t even say for sure. I heard calls of support and acquisitions of curses being thrown at both me and Rowan.

The medics, now feeling safe, ran towards the rogue, as I waited a few more moments, as if catching a breath, before returning back to the tunnel I came out from, for now, dismissing the wall of notifications as I slouched against the tunnel wall and walked away into the darkness. Leaving the uncertain cheers, screams, and uproar behind me.