Mahon and Jorik left Paegis with unsteady hearts. The news the old man had revealed was too big to be internalized in such a short time. The duo gave up discussing anything for the moment. Their fight started in a few minutes, and they wouldn’t even have time to graze the surface of things. They agreed to pretend they didn’t know anything until the fight was over. They would have plenty of time in Nightmare to plan their next move, anyway.

Once back to the canteen, they moved towards their reserved area into the arena to prepare themselves for the fight to come. Mahon summed up everything one last time.

They had three advantages over the Ill Immortals.

The first one was magical. Paegis’ spell would strongly limit Virrion’s abilities to cast powerful magic. They wouldn’t have to fear his geysers or his almost unlimited magical reserves. Virrion would go back to being a feeble magician for the duration of the fight. He would still be a magician, however. A weak one, but one nonetheless.

Their second asset was one of knowledge. They knew the extent of the Ill Immortals’ power. They had seen them fight a few hours ago, and they were very aware of what they were capable of. On the other hand, although the Ill Immortals had witnessed their fight against the Hawks and knew of their strange magic, they didn’t understand it. They lacked any counter because they had no idea what Mahon and Jorik were truly capable of with their weird magic.

The last edge they had over their enemies was their sword abilities. The Ill Immortals were good, but Mahon and Jorik were much better. In his last fight against Varek, Mahon already had the upper hand, but now that he had refined his style with the sword and taught Jorik about it, the two men were clearly a step above the trio of sorcerers.

Obviously, the Ill Immortals had their own assets. They knew how to fight together and wielded powerful magic. And they were three. But the whole goal of having a plan before the fight was to play with their own assets and avoid their enemies’ strong suits.

“Gentlemen. It’s time.”

A referee gestured for them to follow him before he led them towards the center of the arena. The trio of Ill Immortals arrived at the same time, from the other side of the arena.

The crowd went wild with its applause and cheer as the two final contendents faced each other, just below the king’s balcony. The man in question walked to the balustrade and waved at the numerous people screaming their enthusiasm. A gentle smile revealed nothing of his thoughts as he gestured to the two final teams.

“People of Finem!” He started with a booming voice.

The crowd yelled loudly in response before calming down to let its king speak.

“We’ve already watched two matches of incredible intensity this morning. However, let me tell you. This fight, right now, stands at the pinnacle of every other. The grand final of this tournament is about to begin. Be ready for the cream of the crop of what Finem has to offer! I wish the best of luck to both teams. Show us what you’re capable of. Let your swords determine who will emerge victorious from the biggest tournament Finem has ever held and who is worthy of Finem’s favor!”

Mahon and Jorik positioned themselves at an arm’s reach and assumed a fighting stance. In front of them, three swords ignited while a look of concentration barred the Ill Immortals’ faces.

The crowd held its breath as the tension slowly rose up inside the arena. The surroundings grew entirely silent until the only sound that could be heard was the rhythmic claps of Finem’s flags swirling under the slow wind.

All eyes were glued to the king’s lips, waiting for the order that would start the final fight. All eyes, but those of the five fighters inside the arena that were still firmly focused on their opponents since the moment they had entered the arena.

Another handful of seconds passed in that tense atmosphere before the king finally relieved everyone of the excruciating pressure with a thundering voice.

“START!”

His yell was still reverberating inside the arena that the fighters were already exchanging their first strikes.

It was the first time since the beginning of the tournament that Mahon and Jorik had a chance to fight as a duo, and they immediately put to shame Luvon’s impressive disciples. The latter had shown the world how far the limits of coordination and synchronization could be pushed. It had been an eye opener on duo fighting techniques for many.

Yet, when they saw Mahon and Jorik move, they reviewed their judgements.

The two disciples had played a lot around mirror’s movements, since one of them was left-handed and the other right-handed. They had shown that two people could share the same mind as they landed blows after blows on the same target with extreme coordination.

On the other hand, Mahon and Jorik were exhibiting something completely different.

They were clearly two minds. Each was doing his own life, attacking and defending independently from the other. If one was to watch them for just a short time, they wouldn’t see anything remotely close to coordination.

And yet, after just a few more exchanges, they would start to notice a strange recurring pattern.

Jorik’s strike sent him a bit too far, and he bypassed Virrion, his direct opponent. At the same time, Mahon pushed back Varek with a complex feint followed by a strong kick, and all of a sudden, the man was in the path of Jorik’s sword.

Fortunately for him, Vivian intervened just in time to parry. Mahon then rolled forward and thrust his sword right at Jorik’s guts. But the noble wasn’t there anymore.

He hadn’t dodge Mahon’s strike, but he had naturally twisted his body to strengthen his own attack towards the incoming Virrion, giving way for Mahon’s attack. The latter’s sword suddenly appeared in Vivian’s vision that had been previously blocked by Jorik’s body, and she stumbled backward to dodge, falling on her back.

Varek swiped at Mahon’s face to prevent him from pushing his advantage further, but Mahon ignored him. He rushed to Vivian without sparring a look at the sword coming for his life.

And, as if by magic, Jorik’s sword was pushed back by Virrion’s attack and somehow ended in Varek’s way, parrying the blow just enough that it passed harmlessly by Mahon’s side.

In the meantime, Mahon had almost reached Vivian when a fireball emptied a large area in his Flow. As the emptiness was rushing to him, Mahon rolled to the side to avoid it. The move bought enough time for Vivian to regain her bearings, and the fight resumed.

From a spectator’s perspective, it seemed as Mahon and Jorik’s luck was incredibly high, and it was the only reason they were able to contend against the three sorcerers. But as time passed and small miracles multiplied, they could only come to the only conclusion that made sense, however impossible it seemed.

Everything was planned.

The duo had perfect control of the fight.

Even Virrion had trouble admitting what he was witnessing. How could two people have such a way to fight? Whoever tried this strategy would end up killing his teammate after only a few moves, and yet the two Protectors had been going at it for minutes now.

In the end, the leader of the Ill Immortals gave up trying to catch the two slippery men and focused on defense. For the moment.

He knew time was on his side. As long as their flames burned, they would become stronger and faster while Mahon and Jorik would stagnate at best. The Ill Immortals would protect each other until the fight would switch in their favor.

But Virrion knew very well his opponents were smart enough not to wait for such an ending. They would have to attack with their strange repulsive magic before that.

And if they still had been three, even he would have trouble dealing with such a strategy. Especially since he hadn’t fully recovered from Paegis’ attack, and he felt as weak as a kitten. But Myrthil wasn’t there anymore, and if either Mahon or Jorik dared to knock himself out to stop one of the Ill Immortal’s magic, the two remaining sorcerers would gang on the remaining Protector before he had any opportunity to strike.

Whatever strategy they chose, they would only meet their end. It was just a matter of time.

“Now!” Jorik yelled as he managed to force Varek to collide with Virrion who had been elegantly pushed back at the same time by Mahon.

The two sorcerers swiftly avoided each other, but they quickly realized they had ended up close to each other while Vivian stood a distance away. Alone.

“Vivian! Careful!” Virrion immediately reacted.

Jorik rushed to the woman’s side as Mahon raised his hand towards her as if he planned to unleash his magic.

After his first initial reaction, Virrion marked a brief hesitation, his brain working overtime to make sense of the situation. But it didn’t make any.

Why would Mahon sacrifice himself when he was the stronger of the two? And he was also closer to both Varek and him, so it was obvious they would reach him before Jorik had any chance to protect him. There was something obviously wrong there, but Virrion couldn’t see it.

His instincts screamed of a trap, but before he could think further about it, Mahon turned his raised hand to them with a wicked smile, taking the two men by surprise. They were still close to each other, and they had momentarily lost their defensive posture, thinking Vivian was the real target.

“Watch out!” Virrion warned as a horrible thought flashed in his mind.

He can’t target two people at the same time, can he?

His brain automatically replayed the last minute of the fight, and he realized Mahon and Jorik had worked to push Varek and him close to each other while isolating Vivian. They had planned everything from the very beginning of the match.

Virrion drew in his magic to propel him away from Varek, but he wasn’t fast enough. He then felt an unknown force attacking his flames from all sides. Refusing to give up, however, he increased his control over his magic and fought against Mahon’s Flow.

The magician soon managed to stabilize his own fire. A look at Varek showed the man’s flames were flickering much wilder than his own. But it didn’t matter much. If Virrion could resist, that meant they would counter the duo’s plan and win the fight.

A knowing smile appeared on his face as he focused intensely on his magic and pushed as hard as he could.

And then, he suddenly exploded in a bright explosion of flames, all resistance gone.

The victorious smile on his face faded almost instantly as he realized Varek’s flames were back to normal. In fact, Mahon wasn’t staggering on the ground like he should be doing after the attack. No. Instead, the man was already rushing to Jorik’s side and pressuring Vivian.

Virrion understood immediately what had happened. They had been tricked.

A trap within a trap.

Mahon had never aimed to extinguish Vivian’s magic. Nor could he target both Varek and Virrion at the same time. He simply lacked the power to do so. Instead, his aim had always been to make Virrion think he could, while his target had always been Vivian.

Actually, what Virrion didn’t know was that Mahon and Jorik couldn’t afford to attack their enemy’s magic because they were reliant on their Flow to fight like they did before. Against the three Ill Immortals, if one of them stopped Flowing, they would meet their end in an instant.

But the man had no way of knowing their fighting style and their ability to shut down fire magic were, in fact, two sides of the same coin.

Mahon focused back on the battle. He had roughly earned a second before Varek and Virion caught up to him, and even if it was more than enough at his level to eliminate Vivian, he couldn’t afford to be negligent.

Especially since the fight would take a widely different turn after they were done with Vivian.

Mahon used his usual senses to follow Vivian and Jorik’s moves, while he kept track of Varek and Virrion’s progression with his Flow, or rather, he watched attentively the advance of the immense column of emptiness caused by Virrion’s presence.

Jorik initially had the upper hand against Vivian, but the woman had been quick enough to invoke her fire shield as soon as she had realized they didn’t aim to extinguish her magic. With a second weapon, she had been able to build enough time for herself and prevent Jorik from eliminating her.

But the dynamic of forces switched instantly once Mahon joined the fight. He aimed at the woman’s left foot at the first opportunity, and Vivian was forced to retreat in an uncomfortable position to avoid the strike.

Although she was caught unprepared, she wasn’t out of options. Vivian was a sorcerer and an Ill Immortal. She had had many experiences fighting for her life in the wild, but she was also very used to duels. And she had witnessed all of Mahon and Jorik’s fights. She knew how they fought. She could exploit it.

In order to buy enough time for her teammates to arrive, she needed to resist the duo of Protectors with all her might. Thus, she slightly exposed her jugular to balance herself.

In a real fight, it would have been a deadly mistake. But in a duel it was the perfect move. The motion helped her retreat and hide her feet and hands away from Mahon’s precise attacks.

Alas, it was a wild miscalculation on her part.

Paegis had changed the stakes an hour ago. It wasn’t a duel anymore.

Mahon switched his target without any hesitation, and his sword went all the way through her throat, ending her life instantly. In the same swift motion, he turned back to face the approaching Virrion and Varek, a resolute look on his face.

There is no going back now. Let’s fight to the death.