Selica wasn’t sure if her plan would work at all. Even before making contact with Dimas, she already assumed he could sense magic in some way. She even almost faltered when she saw him performing a sonar-like spell to catch others from hiding behind her. But thank the princesses that he was able to overlook her small trick. Whether it’s because of his arrogance or just because he overlooked it she might never know, but the fact that her “Ice Knife” right now is lodged straight into Dimas heart means that the final steps of her plan are in motion.

So what was her trick? Instead of fully dispelling her “Psy Shield” spell outright, Selica decided to instead minimize it on her hand with a small help of the “Magic Glove” spell. She theorized that by forcing the “Psy Shield” to cover only her hand it will allow her to still be able to use it even if the rest of her body is wet by the rain, and is small enough, mana wise, to bypass any checks or senses by other mages, Dimas specifically.

When she first thought about this plan, she didn’t want to test it out in fear of Dimas sensing it by accident, so she gambled her plan by doing it on the fly. However though the plan seems to be already successful, it is not without any prices to pay. For one, suppressing a huge spell like “Psy Shield” requires far more effort and mental strain than just normally maintaining it, at the same time her plan of combining such spell with another for long periods of time, on top of casting another spell combo afterwards, has really drained Selica’s natural mana pool dry.

If she had waited any longer, she might not have been able to cast the “Ice Knife” and strike Dimas without letting go of the silence bubble she had created, thus prematurely unveiling her plan to her target.

“Gaahhhk! Aahhk!!” Dimas pushes himself back as he tries to cover the gaping wound in his chest. Selica got him in the heart, piercing straight into his artery. The blood flows out like a newly revitalized river after years of drought. “Hahk Hahk!” Dimas desperate breathing serenades the torrential orchestra that is their battlefield. His eyes darts back forth between his open heart and to Selica, which in her own way has also shown the limits of her capability.

After piercing Dimas’ heart, Selica’s grip on all of her spells simultaneously breaks. The mute bubble, the ice knife, and even the “Psy Shield” + “Magic Glove” spell combo. All of them dispelled as Selica almost keeled over from exhaustion. This was also the first time she has stabbed anyone at all, the sensation of her ice knife piercing Dimas chest made her so queasy she almost puked, but she was able to stave it off with sheer adrenaline alone. Selica is powerless now, her whole body is soaked by the rain, her magic will not help her now.

Selica carelessly exposes her most vulnerable state to her opponent, but lucky for her, he’s far too concerned with his own problems to take advantage of it.

“HAH HAH.” Selica slowly regains her composure. She looks up and sees her target desperately clutching his bleeding heart as he stares at her with ridiculing malice.

“How, how!?” Selica can see his mind searching for an explanation, a theory, anything that could explain what has just transpired. She can feel his deductive eyes scanning every inch of her, every follicle, every hair strand, just to help him find an answer.

Then after a few moments, Dimas eyes become more particular, calculating, and then finally serious. Dimas stares at his open wound, still bleeding till now, and closes his eyes. Selica can hear a faint incantation under his lips and a surge of magic slowly envelops his chest.

No way! Can he actually heal himself? Selica stares at horror as Dimas openly operates on himself with his magic. When the incantation is done however, the open wound remains unhealed. The wound is still open as before, but the bleeding has stopped, but not in a natural way. Selica can see that the blood is still wet but their movement is seized in a stasis.

“Two combo spells at the same time, and one of them is using a “Psy Shield” of all things.” Dimas murmurs as he lets go of his wound. “By the suns, you are indeed a prodigy, Little Sparrow.” He slowly approaches Selica, but his stance was different. Instead of the confident gait he has been carrying himself with earlier, his movement is more cautious, guarded towards Selica. It’s as if he’s a hunter slowly approaching his prey that knows that with one wrong move could take him out instead. Selica tries to readies herself to defend against Dimas. But with what? She didn’t want to show Dimas her desperation especially now that he’s treating her like an actual threat compared to before.

“I must apologize for underestimating you earlier.” Dimas suddenly speaks, his voice is somehow full of reverence. “My time in the council has indeed clouded my mind with my own hubris. Too many times have people kowtowed to my will just by simply hearing my name and title, that I have forgotten that most important tenet of magecraft.” He pauses, after a few steps away from Selica, his body faces her confidently and ready for battle. “Magical prowess is subjective. Whether you are an old man inheriting millennia's worth of arcane knowledge or a manaless street rat who self taught the basics from the ground up, if you have the will to understand it, magic will bend itself to your needs. Eventually making you its master.” Dimas sighs heavily, Selica can see his open chest moving but the blood is still static in its place.

“Let me introduce myself again. My name is Dimas Kansiero, a Telekinetic Mage that has mastered the magic of stasis.” His voice and introduction has none of the pompous arrogance it had once before. It’s simply confidence, confidence in his name, and his craft. After announcing himself he stares at Selica nudging her to do the same.

For once, Selica felt embarrassed in the presence of Dimas. “M-My name is Selica Bursnan,” She answers back meekly at first, but slowly is able to establish her own footing. “A Book Savant who has a love for studying spells through books and tomes.” She announces her name and her magical preference. Selica has heard of this ceremony. It was the prelude of a mage duel. A duel said to be a battle between two mages of equal footing who have clashing irreconcilable ambitions against one another. It’s a very rare occurrence, especially in this day and age, and only those of noble virtue would ever invoke such a thing.

He sees me as an equal. She tells herself. For some reason, being seen as an equal by Dimas of all people makes the upcoming conflict carry more pressure than ever.

“Selica Bursnan.” Dimas says her name, savoring it in his lips. “You are standing on the way of my quest for power, and I am to you as well. As we are clearly both at death’s door, it’s only appropriate we finish this right here, right now.” Dimas changes his stance, his right shoulder in front with both of his arms open and ready. Selica responds the same, but without magic, how could she ever fight in the first place?

Without magic? That’s not true. She has one spell remaining, a spell she coated in a “Psy Shield” before returning it back in her chest. Her last resort. But she has to time it right or Dimas might stop her mid casting. She only has one shot with this.

Selica begins moving, she starts by slowly circling at Dimas as he follows her with both his eyes and arms. Dimas is ready to counter Selica the moment she casts a spell, his fingers fidgeting to stop her throat the moment she casts them.

It’s unnerving. All this time Selica has always accounted for Dimas' pride to use for her advantage, but this time none of that exists now. His movement is deliberate, his pacing is attentive towards Selica’s own and if she focuses a bit, even his mana distribution is carefully weighted according to his needs. She can sense a huge amount of his mana is being used to maintain the spell on his open chest, and the “Psy Shield” all over his body, while the meager rest is just enough for two spells, and two spells alone.

She can see both his hands preparing these two spells; a stasis spell and what seems to be a fireball spell. His plan is to counter her mid casting with a stasis and blow her up with a precisely aimed fireball.

Now that Dimas knows that Selica is a Book Savant, he’s no longer risking to take the offensive against her, and has only settled in countering her move. As a Book Savant, her spell repertoire is theoretically endless compared to his, so Selica guesses that the reason he’s not on the offensive is because he’s afraid that she will counter him the moment he casts his own spells. If he stasis her too late, she’ll win, and if he casts his offensive spell before his stasis, then she would be able to cast her spell before he could stasis her.

Selica can wait it out. Make Dimas spend his remaining mana to his chest until he passes out, but is that a wise plan? He might soon realize that she has nothing to fend off against his stasis spell and go into the offensive eventually.

Selica is trying to plan her next moves, but the tension and pressure from both Dimas and the situation is clouding her judgment.

“Fuck it!” Selica shouts, her head is strained and exhausted, she’s too tired to even think of a plan that could beat Dimas anyways, so she might as well wing it. Selica starts sprinting towards Dimas. Using the last ounce of strength on her legs to propel herself towards her enemy. Her plan is to surprise Dimas into forcing him to waste his fireball immediately on her. She believes that if she can force Dimas to shoot the fireball at her first, then his stasis will be useless. When it comes to the fireball’s turning her into a crispy corpse, Selica has casted a few of her own in her full strength before, and she knows, with the help of both the rain and her soaked clothes, that she can take the full brunt of it if Dimas is forced to casts it haphazardly.

All her plans up to now are founded in complete guesswork, a complete deviation to the proper studies of what a mage should aspire to be. But in times like this, one can only believe in their gut feeling to survive.

Dimas, surprised with Selica’s action, falters on his concentration. Selica can see it in his eyes, he’s debating whether he should cast his spells now or wait for her to attack. But the time frame he has in doing those things are exponentially getting smaller by the moment.

Dimas scuffs, seemingly disappointed by Selica’s course of action. “I thought you were a prodigy Selica, but maybe I was wrong.” The hand preparing the stasis spell flickered out, while the other hand preparing the fireball spell ignites even more. “Fine then, recklessness will be punished accordingly.” The fire in his armed turned into a burning ring crowned with razor spikes. ”Ghendra’s Burning Crown!” Dimas throws the burning wheel straight at Selica. The flaming spell spins and burns vibrantly even underneath the heavy rain.

“What-!” Her forward momentum prevents Selica from dodging the flame completely in time. She tries to step by the side, but the burning crown hits her on the chest and carves a significant portion of her body as it continues to spin.

“Gaahhk!” The impact takes all the wind out of Selica, then finally the burning wheel rends through her skin like a voracious saw. If it was not for the Psy Rain downpouring right now, the burning crown would have torn through Selica’s body in seconds. But instead, the burning crown only left a huge gaping gash from Selica’s right shoulder down to her gut, inches away from ripping her internal organs apart.

“Haahk! Haahk!” Selica’s senses are overloading her mind. It’s screaming at her to put the pain out, to put the suffering out. She looks at her wound and sees no blood, no fire, only a cauterized crevice wounding her body.

At the edge of her flailing sanity, Selica hears footsteps approaching her.

“That was foolish,” Dimas says, looking down on her. “To openly get hit by a spell without any protection? And I thought you were a smart kid, Selica.” His voice is slowly returning to his pompous tone. In his eyes, Dimas has won, and this kid named Selica is just another weakling compared to him. All his respect towards her is quickly being washed away by the rain.

But despite their position, it’s Selica who has in fact won, or maybe winning is not the proper term for it. She didn’t account for Dimas to combine the mana stored in both of his hands together so quickly. Selica thought that Dimas is truly decades ahead of her in terms of being a mage. She gambled her last chance with a reckless attack, and she almost failed.

Almost.

She tries to gaze at Dimas chest while grasping her own. Blood begins to trickle down from his open wound. He has no mana left, he’s depleted. It’s time to do her final move.

“Hahaha!” Selica starts laughing hysterically, she looks like a deranged fool at the death throes of her life. “I-I wasn’t t-trying to w-win.” Selica’s trembling hands slowly bring out a small scrap of paper inside her scorched chest. The paper is half burnt, but dry from the rain. “M-my on-ly goal w-was t-to make sure you lose.”

Dimas notices the paper and his expression immediately turns grim. “A third?! No-!” He tried to grab the paper in her hand, but it was too late.

“ROAR” Selica shouts the spell name inscribed in the paper. Making her voice comparable to that of a screeching banshee.

“HELP! PLEASE! I’M IN THE SIDE OF THE HILLS!” Her voice was so loud it pushed Dimas away from her, and the rain droplets trembled as they fell to the ground.