Cursed Explorer of the Arcana

I refuse to accept the olive branch offered to me by what I can only describe as breathing entertainment. She started it, and I refuse to let her walk without at least some modest punishment for ruining my effort to cull the tournament island's population.

A few seconds to a minute is all I have, and that's plenty.

Now somewhat familiar with my opponent's tacky style of combat, I adapt my approach and make sure those hits land, as they are supposed to. Allowing a mage to chat is never a good idea, and the same goes for me.

To make it worse, the pair of purple sparks hovering by my side is imperceivable to anyone else. They cling to my bolts of lightning the moment I discharge the power from my body, turning into crackling hunting dogs for their master.

Oddly enough, half-sentient lighting magic, which in itself sounds plenty ridiculous, is nowhere near as fast as the simple discharge in and of itself. Perhaps the mana hesitates or travels through channels less advantageous… Either way, it gives me plenty of time to gather moisture from all around and shape it into javelins of ice.

My combined assault forces the glass girl to dodge instead of facing the punishment head-on. She blinks into the air, using spatial magic to move only a minimal distance to keep it cost-effective. The ice keeps flying into the woods uselessly, so at least that much she avoids.

The violent sparks, on the other hand, curve around like a thought and chase after their prey. But I don't want to give up all my secrets yet, so I put up an act, and move my hands as if the stunt were my own doing. At the same time, flames come alive all around us in the air like a curtain of inferno.

Another teleport makes my opponent disappear from my sight. Regardless of Martha's questionable use of magic, I really hate spatial spells. They feel like a get-out-of-jail-free card, honestly.

Despite that, my mentor's constant pranks of appearing out of nowhere finally bore an unexpected fruit. That is because I've learned what to expect when it comes to these kinds of pesky tricks.

First of all, she's behind me. I'm not mind-reading, nor is this my tactical genius guiding my hand… No, this is pride – her pride and every mage's pride dictating her moves. That's what I'd do, and she herself admitted to it… We are similar.

I raise my arms, and the earth behind me follows my lead. The flimsy wall's only purpose is to cut off the line of sight while I finally divide the floating flames into a veritable rain of fire and drop it onto us. While I do that, the lighting zips over my head, still on the chase, although bleeding its power with every passing second.

The crystalline crackle of glass forming makes me doubt my decisions for a moment. She could be attacking, and I can do little to fight back at this very moment… But the roar of electric discharge heralds my victory.

It had to be a barrier.

Alas, there is no longer a clear patch of sky above us… There's nowhere to escape. When I finally bring my arms down, the world gets dressed in red and the air begins to boil. A real mana sink, but nothing compared to the cost of teleporting around or whatever measures the glass girl will need to take the weather my parting gift.

Sadly, I can't finish this here. The trees being felled in the distance hint at other participants having a rumble nearby, and the shadows are behaving oddly at the edge of our battlefield. I might already be surrounded.

Still, my job is not done here.

Step after step, I walk through the sea of flames, heading not towards the boundary of the next zone but to greet the new arrivals. To them, I should be a mere silhouette walking through hell, sprinkled with a few bolts of lightning to guard me and destruction in my wake.

"I'm starting to like my nickname more and more…" I mutter before stepping out of the smoke and inferno and spreading my arms. "I hope you're enjoying our little game, everyone!" I speak both to my competitors and the audience. "I'd love to entertain a little longer… Alas, the main attraction will have to wait a little longer."

As if irked by my words, an arrow whistles through the branches, aiming for my head. There's nobody who dares reveal themselves, and until now, I wasn't even sure whether or not there was anyone actually around. Still, my dutiful snakes of electricity pounce on the projectile and protect me from harm.

"It's not yet time for the main event." My mouth stretches into a fiendish grin. "But I've left a gift for those hungry for more. Until next time!" I bow and take off with a deafening explosion.

My altitude soars in mere seconds, before I adjust my course and head straight for the dome separating the two rings of the tournament island. A short prayer leaves my lips before actually making contact with the invisible wall, in case things don't go as they're supposed to… But I pop through it without a hiccup.

On the other side, an entire city devoured by the ages and carved into stone welcomes me, almost as if stepping into a different world. A quick glance is all I can afford before diving towards the ground and disappearing between the archaic structures.

Once magnificent white pillars, robust walls, and wide streets, all claimed by sand, now provided me with shelter. This is different from any old place I've ever explored, and it is distinctly human.

For now, my surroundings are quiet, meaning either nobody's around or nobody is foolish enough to announce they're around. Just in case, I activate the dormant inscriptions on my body and reposition, while also dropping a few traps of my own along the way.

Chokepoints, doorways, and unassuming corners are the best bet to set up inscriptions. And even though none of them are outstandingly lethal, the ruckus they cause will do more than enough damage.

One more thing to check…

[Your class Skill [Ethereal Stage] has reached lvl 124.]

[The general Skill [Martial Instinct] has reached lvl 110.]

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

Decent for the amount of work.

"Splendid, now I should lie low for a while." I muttered to myself in a corner. "My mana can only allow me to pull off a stunt like that three more times before things become dire. This is not about fighting mindlessly, but enduring until the end."

Objectively speaking, Valka is much more suited for this type of continuous engagement. Her stamina is just as monstrous as her strength, both pushed to her limit repeatedly by Bennett for months. And even after that, she didn't relax her regimen one bit. Her mana consumption is also minimal, so…

"If this drags out too long, she might get the upper hand." I came to a grim realization.

This meant I either had to start hunting said warriors now while I had the juice, or pray nobody tries me any time soon. Without Hadron and with limited mana, I can only rely on my regeneration, which can't do miracles.

"Or can it?"

Technically, a person's mana reserve is nothing more than the amount of magic the vessel can process and attune to the individual's so-called 'frequency'. It's why each mana signal is unique, like a fingerprint, but at the end of the day, it's also just an organ. We inhale deeper, eat faster, and even accelerate our blood flow…

"This is really not the time to experiment…" I am well aware and not nearly desperate enough to try something stupid. "How did I never think of this before?"

Maybe because I conveniently always had some mana crystals on hand, and because the theory isn't new. The only issue is, to manually convert mana, one needs… Bingo, mana. It's like spitting up and catching it with my mouth.

Except I might have another method.

First, I waste mana on making my signature spark nobody is able to perceive anyway. I'm trying to keep a low profile, so doing anything too flashy won't do. Then I give my instructions and let it sink into a simple sphere of my mana.

Gather mana, Resonate!

Finding my own frequency isn't a challenge, I've been using it constantly for over four years now. The question is rather… can the aether do it?

No, apparently.

"Fucking… urgh!" I tried to restrain my voice. "But you did work!" I whisper into thin air like a maniac.

That's because it sort of did, for a moment. It sucked in mana and converted it even… Then it ate the mana and puffed out only a fraction of the profit. I basically got taxed by my own magical spell and taxed quite heavily.

Then I inhaled deeply and found the air smelling a little… minty.

"It's more than nothing, I guess." But it was really, really close to nothing. "I need to refine it some more. At least until I regain my investment."

And so seconds stretch into minutes while I sit in my quiet corner, melded into the shadows and tinkering with my mana. Occasionally, I hear the sounds of intense battle in the far distance, rare even from around the buildings nearby… But none of that really concerns me right now.

Admittedly, I even forget a little about why I'm curled up in the shadows of a fake ruin. The tournament becomes of secondary importance now that something intriguing and magical has caught my eye.

Alas, a trail of flame gushing through a narrow window nearby forces me to return from wonderland.

"Eleven percent." I calculate the returns based on my mana regen, an estimate of the time, and my initial mana cost. "If only I could stay a little longer…"

For almost ten minutes, I kept gasping like a stranded fish, trying to inhale all the excess mana with more or less success. Anything less than nine minutes would be a net loss. And now I had to leave the formation behind.

"I must hunt, and there's no way I can drag this thing along." I rolled my neck and stretched my torpid limbs. "Martha will still probably chew my ears off. And I can't even tell her my excuse…"

Life is unfair.

Since people are already fighting outside, I should have an easy time swooping in and claiming the booty. Time is of the essence, and I have just wasted a lot of that essence right now. But at least mana is no longer that big of a concern. I'm no longer running against the clock.

Intrigued by the ruckus outside, I lunge through the tiny window with the utmost precision like an acrobat. My sudden appearance goes unnoticed, which is not surprising, considering the heated battle. It does hurt my ego a little, though…

At first glance, I can tell that it's a clash between two mages, one leaning towards lightning and earth, while the other is aided by the reliable combination of wind and fire. One was like a shield and spear, while the other raged with the fury of a bladedancer.

For a few moments, I remain on my butt and just watch. Information is king, especially in an environment where quite literally everyone is aiming for my neck. Old Elyssia would just rush in and clean up with a big boom. The faster I'm done here, the less likely I'll get caught up in a mess, after all…

Even now, I'm tempted to do exactly that right at this very moment.

"But it's time to stop treating this as a game and look at it as training." I mutter and sharpen my eyes. "Ever since Mythralis, none of Melana's little sessions felt real."

It wasn't her fault. People my age are simply not supposed to find themselves in battles like that, much less walk away intact. My competitive spirit kept the duels interesting, but it all felt inevitably fake.

Watching those two duke it out was good. They fought for something more than the right to remain standing. It wasn't something as grand as justice or their lives, but it was proper… it felt real.

So for about a minute, I just watched. The fire mage, relying on her high ground and large-scale magic, tried to suppress her opponent. The earth wielder, on the other hand, raised sturdy defenses and struck back with branching bolts of thunder from time to time.

It was a cautious back and forth since and lot was at stake.

"I need to take care of the fiery one first." The verdict left my mouth, and my body rose at last.

Reshaping my tattoos, I layer only a single Shadow Dress onto my skin. There's no need to be cautious about any minute noise I might make when my prey is making such a great effort to remain deaf.

Sneaking closer on foot, one step at a time, turns out to be quite the exciting exercise. I feel my heart skip a beat each time their gaze sweeps over me, or a deflected bundle of deadly mana lands in my vicinity.

Never for a moment do I lose line of sight on my two targets… Which is exactly why it takes so bafflingly long to notice what was right in front of my nose. Across the wide road, in the darkness cast by what could've been a temple once upon a time, I meet a pair of baffled eyes.

We stare at each other for a few moments, the boy in the colors of Turan and visibly embraced by black, and tightly holding a sword. It's clear I wasn't the only one biding my time and looking to benefit.

Right away, I notice a change in the new challenger's eyes.

He springs forth from his cover, seemingly stepping onto ethereal arms of darkness that carry him like helping hands. He sails for the fire mage and strikes down in one fell swoop. The girl's pin flashes red, and she falls to the ground.

"Don't you dare!" I step forth now that my location is compromised.

The boy snatches the pin off his victim's chest and jumps into another alley, disappearing into the dark. Before I can activate my Skills and dash after him, however, an arc of crackling energy whips down right before my nose.

The turtle has finally come out of its shell and chose violence when it should've remained silent.

"Oh… this is unfortunate." I mutter with a bitter smile. "Hey there, Sid." I greet my fellow student in white and blue. "You know the rules." I shrug, and the earth beneath my feet trembles.