“Tough break.”

Robert sneered at the mounted leader, all the while trying desperately to place the man. Nothing came to mind, which wasn’t a surprise. He remembered few faces from his training. Most of his teaching came from personal instruction. The only time he saw other students was for spars. Sometimes, he fought squires from the orders in the capital. Those fights could get heated but he couldn’t remember any hostility. “Why are you doing this?”

“I told you, my teacher—”

“Do not take me for a fool. No knight would be so petty.”

The mounted man chuckled. “What do you think knights are? They’re just men, friend. Men with deadly skills, shiny armor, and big egos.”

Robert frowned. “You realize you insult your teacher.”

“My teacher’s a cunt.” With a swing of his leg, he easily dismounted his horse. One of his teammates grabbed the mount’s reins to keep it from following its owner as he stepped forward. “But he’s all I got so I do what he says, even bullying children.”

“Who are you calling a child?” Sebas snapped.

“Look, guys. And er, girls. This doesn’t have to be hard, yeah? I was only told to sabotage you during the test. That doesn’t mean anyone has to be hurt. Leave the monster corpses and walk away.”

Robert shook his head. “You make it sound like you’re giving us a choice.”

“It’s a test, not the end of the kingdom. Sure, it’ll be embarrassing and your teacher might slap your wrist but we both know they value you all too much to let you waste another year as initiates.”

“Enough talk. If it is a duel you want, then a duel you shall have.” He stepped forward, hyper aware that he didn’t have his sword with him. Belatedly, he thought he should have asked Alana for her blade. It wasn’t what he was used to but it would have been better than nothing. While her allegiances could be called into question, her honor was impeccable. She wouldn’t let him face danger unarmed if he asked for her help. “I am Robert Quintana. Let us have an honorable contest.”

“Quintana, right.” The enemy team leader put his hand on his chest and bowed shallowly. “Ethor, son of Ethein. A humble caster and a small stone on the road of the kingdom’s future hero. I hope you don’t hold this against me once you’ve slain your first dragon.”

For someone who described himself as humble, he seemed assured of his victory. Robert wondered if it was because he overestimated himself or underestimated him.

“And you’ve misunderstood. I didn’t step forward for a duel. Your whole team is welcome to attack me. Whenever you’re ready.”

Robert gaped, searching for any sign of deception in the other man’s dark eyes or placid features. He found none, hesitatingly concluding that Ethor was serious. His face flushed with a mix of rage and embarrassment as he opened his mouth to scold the other man but he was interrupted by the hiss of a fireball. Ethor jumped out of its path, the attack scorching the ground where he had stood.

Robert turned and saw Cecile standing with her hand raised and eyes aglow. “What?” she snapped. “He said he wanted to fight all of us. I am not going to be the first Guiness to fail the damn initiate year!”

“It’s—” His rebuke was cut off by her scream of pain. He briefly saw a glint of metal sticking out of her leg before she dropped to a knee. A wall of earth formed around her and Robert turned back to Ethor. His opponent held two knives, causally tossing one into the air and catching it by its hilt.

“Oh, you’re paying attention. Good. Wouldn’t want anyone saying I didn’t give you a fair chance. I—” He ducked and threw himself to the side as three daggers of ice flew through the space he’d previously occupied, expertly throwing one of his knives.

Orphelia was just as quick to move. Dropping the five corpses next to Cecile, a high-powered stream of water shot toward Ethor, following him as he moved away from it and tearing up the ground in its wake.

“Will you get with the program, Bobby?” Sebas snapped as he cast his own spell. Ethor’s features twisted as he found himself frozen in place. Several pieces of metal emerged from beneath his robe, melting together and reforming into a circular shield that deflected the stream of water.

Two more plates emerged, separating into six small blades that launched themselves at Sebas. Lanston jumped in front of him and threw up another wall of earth. The daggers merged mid-flight and changed shape, forming a cone with spiral grooves. It spun as it met the wall, taking only a moment to punch through the earth. It cut into Lanston’s side before sinking into the ground. He bore the injury with grit teeth, eyes focused as he waited for the next attack.

Seeing two of his teammates injured, Robert pushed aside his doubts and decided to act. He took in the situation, comparing it to the many drills his teacher had put him through. His greatest advantage was his versatility. With four affinities, the sheer breath of options at his disposal made him impossible to counter. Better, it made his ability to synergize with his team unrivaled.

Seeing the cone with spiral grooves rising from the ground, he used a strong blast of wind to push it further away. Distance variables could eat away a caster’s mana. Ethor would have no choice but to give up on the metal and a metal caster without metal was as dangerous as a kitten without claws. Each piece he lost cut into his strength.

Seeing the water cast off from Orphelia’s spell, he used the excess for his own spell. Water rose from the ground, slowly morphing into needles and freezing into icy projectiles. Too slowly.

Another metal plate slipped from Ethor’s robe, transforming into a circle with teeth on its edge. Robert poured more mana into his spell to hurry it along. The icy needles launched themselves at Ethor as his metal circle swept around him, shattering the ones aimed for his upper body. The ones that made it through bounced off him with no effect.

“Is that all you have?” The circle of metal spun toward Orphelia. A thin icicle hit it from underneath. knocking the metal off course. Ethor whistled. “Damn. Sure you’re not Sir Quintana’s disciple?”

“Never met the man in my life,” she lied. Her stream of water transformed. It lost pressure as the end of it turned into an icy maw of an unrecognizable beast, the water forming a serpentine body. It rose over the metal shield and rushed toward Ethor.

The shield moved to meet it but Orphelia maneuvered her spell around it in a masterful display of skill. The jaws grabbed Ethor’s leg and clamped down. They failed to close, meeting resistance, but the tail of water wrapped around him like a snake and constricted. Ethor grunted.

“A metal caster will always be armored,” she said blandly as Ethor’s face reddened with strain. “Robert, a little assistance locking him in place? Sebas will run out of mana soon.”

“Got it.” Robert pulled the water from the ground and focused it on the earth beneath Ethor’s feet, conjuring more when he saw it was insufficient for his goal. The metal caster sank into the mud. When it was up to his calves, Robert pulled the moisture from the ground and hardened it.

“Thank the saints,” Sebas swore as he dropped his spell. Lanston reached out an arm to steady him as he stumbled but the royal shoved him off. “I’m fine! We’ve got four more targets.”

“Our current one isn’t quite down,” Orphelia said. “I would appreciate it if you children would take this seriously. Robert, take him down.”

His hands balled into fists as he considered her tone. “Ethor, you have lost. Surrender.”

“Hey, hey.” Despite the watery binds and his trapped feet, their opponent seemed relaxed. “I might not have expected you to be travelling with an undercover higher adept, at the very least, but I’ve hardly lost.”

The round shield smashed the icy head of Orphelia’s spell. Then it split into dozens of pieces, miniature versions of the spiral-grooved cone that punched through Lanston’s earth wall like a knife through paper. “Sorry bout this. I’m not as nice as you.”

“Are you planning to kill us?” Orphelia said in a cold voice.

“Ah, you guys are tough. Besides, one of my guys is a decent healer.” The metal projectiles separated. At a glance, Robert assumed there were six aimed for each of them. “You’ll live…probably.”

“You!” Sebas shouted.

Lanston raised a large stone and launched it at Ethor. It broke apart before it reached him, crumbling to dust.

“Earth comes before metal, yeah?” he said with a chuckle as the earth trapping his feet flowed away like water. “Maybe you guys do need another initiate year.”

Robert knew he could stop him. All it would take was a strong fireball to force him to use that metal to defend himself. However, with Ethor’s skill, he would have to use everything he had. Fire couldn’t be thrown around lightly and metal would make a poor defense against intense heat. If his opponent failed to defend correctly, he could die.

Robert hesitated.

Ethor launched his spell.

The world went dark.