Cursed Explorer of the Arcana

"So, who's next?"

My taunt is taken perhaps a little too seriously, and all eyes do indeed snap my way to silence my yappy mouth. Nobody jumps at the provocation right away, though. That'd leave them open to a surprise attack.

I don't particularly mind. In these few seconds of relative silence, the solution to subverting this funky trap has already formulated in my head. The simple act of shooting in here is nigh impossible due to the risks involved. Our aim needs to be beyond perfect…

I can do that.

With a fiendish grin, lances of ever-brightening fires converge by my side. All eyes witnessing my foolish, self-destructive spells widen, unable to detect the little extra that hides within the fabric of space.

Hunt!

I let the lances loose, and they shoot off with a howl and their nearest targets. My blatant aggression invites a similar response. A pretty archer nocks and releases an arrow while diving out of the way, while yet another duo of warriors decides to end me for good.

They're all capable enough to dodge, and inadvertently, my spells fail to hit their intended target. Everyone is visibly on high alert since I just raised the chaos factor and put us all into the beast's maw. Although my spells can't exactly hurt me… But I don't want to test if it's the same for my barrier.

A clench of my fist releases my left gauntlet in a burst of buzzing sparks, catching the arrow and covering me in a web of light. With their weapons raised, poised to strike and already aware of my tricks, the warriors advance.

I don't expect any of my playmates present to have reached this level without an actual perception Skill. It's a must, and any competent teacher conveys that right around the first lesson. Thus, the light isn't meant to hide me… It only needs to shine brighter than the flames.

All the lances launched from my side, making their trajectory simple to anticipate. Now, however, they emerge like an angry swarm of fiery wasps from all over the place. The floor, ceiling, windows, walls, door, and statues… A dozen of them, all flying unpredictably.

As if…

The moment they escape the spatial trap's hold, each and every lance homes in on the nearest fool. In all fairness, if this were a normal battlefield, without any tricks and restrictions, I'd end up clobbered, eight out of nine times. I'm just really good, not invincible.

Outnumbered, I usually struggle, and this instance is no different, except right now, the spells fly as if fired by an entire squad of mages.

Nobody's able to predict such a swift, simple, and technically impossible strike. The effects are devastating, and our limited space is instantly consumed by an inferno. An arcane barrier snaps up to shield me from the worst, yet the aftershock alone is enough to throw me across the hall.

"I'm spent…" I groan, guided by my training alone. Both stamina and mana are nearing their rock bottom, and time is running out. "Fucking, trapper!"

To my relief, nobody rushes at me at long last, and nobody gets up either.

Sitting at the foot of the radiant statue, I exhale to blow all the dust away and push myself up. "Now, all that's left is the trap… So, will you reveal yourself? " My gaze locks onto the thin air right behind this prison's catalyst, where not once did mana fluctuation occur.

Not even something so minuscule can escape my eyes.

I can't even imagine how much mana it evaporates to maintain this space, but it sure as hell doesn't happen miraculously. I can't see any Hadron crystal around either, which means…

"It seems my work is not yet Tyrant-proof." A tiny gnome revealed himself, hands locked behind his back, and eyes tracking my every move. "Tell me, how did you do that?" A White Pearl student.

Shaking my head, I take a step closer. "Would you share your inscriptions with me in exchange?"

My question makes his gaze waver. As a fellow artisan, I understand that my request is impossible to accept, and even if he did, I'd still decline. Gnome, or not, our craft contains our pride, memories, and a piece of us.

"At least let me hear your name?" I offer him the courtesy. And I don't really have the leisure to chit-chat.

"Vorlin. Vorlin Mureseneck. And I'm not letting you leave that easily." He snaps his finger, but my lightning is faster.

The bolt roars through the air, but disappears right at the last moment before sinking its crackling teeth into my target. Not a moment later, it reappears from my right, emerging from the wall… Then it curves around and slams into the gnome anyway.

"But… how?" He mutters, falling to his knees.

Oh, that expression of his, so rare for his kind… I'd love to stay a little longer to savor it. Sadly, I've got places to be, so I quickly nab up every single pin lying about and step leave the way I arrived.

Nine pins in my pocket, two more boundaries to cross, and no more mana to spare. At this point, fighting my way through to the final stage is basically a pipe dream. As if on cue, the building I just left collapses onto itself, following which it's only me and the silence of the streets.

"They probably left by now." I mutter to myself, not at all disappointed by the quiet. A breather is very welcome. "...Yeah, let's just skip it."

Consuming a portion of my remaining mana, I swap my tattoos back to the set more suitable for stealth and speed. Unwilling to find out how much time I have left, I take off towards the third battlefield unimpeded.

Scars of intense battle mar the landscape, proof of what the crème de la crème of my generation is capable of. If only I weren't in a hurry, I'd even stick around for a while to study who and what I might come across.

The next hellscape of combat, one loathed by basically everyone… A dense city with ashen clouds, at first glance, in the image of Sereban. It's an environment most suited for traps, ambushes, and close quarters, all of them my nightmare, especially as a late arrival.

"Just a quick in and out." I take a few quick breaths. "Remember, Eli, you need all the mana you can spare for the plan to work. Don't fight, don't yap, just run!"

Well, calling it a plan is a bit of a long shot, but whatever.

With my goal clear, I sprint headfirst into the impenetrable barrier and emerge on the other side. Not only the scenery, but also the smell and temperature change in an instant, once again welcoming me into another world. Even Solaire's brilliance is diminished, making the light feeble like at the break of dawn.

Very solid magical work, I gotta admit. And I must examine this stuff, it's simply brilliant.

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"It's all too silent…" I mutter, listening intently while staring at the skyline. "We should have about nine to ten of us left at this point, so people are becoming more cautious. That's good, I'll have more time."

To cross this segment of the tournament, I chose the old-school method of alley dashing. I'm confident in my ability to navigate the darkest, narrowest streets. They are the most fun, and I super doubt any noble would have an outstanding experience around them.

It's peasant turf, my turf.

It'd be the fastest to take to the roofs and bolt straight for the last dome sitting at the heart of the island, but in my current state, that might as well be a death sentence. A manaless mage is an unarmed mage – although this makes me wonder how others cope with the consumption.

Slipping into an alley, I'm reminded of my days back in Meliorport. The simple, happy days when the old gang used to race to the docks. No magic, no attributes, and no Skills… Just us, the obstacles, and some dirty tricks.

I miss those days.

"Today is not such a day…" I mutter to myself, leaping over a box all the same, except moving about ten times as fast and silently as a cat. "Two more blocks and I should be good."

The layout is chaotic and beyond me – as is common for old cities that sprawled organically – however, even the veins of leaves aren't without order. One just needs to understand.

"Left… Through the house here." Talking helps organize my thoughts.

With a wave of my hand, the house to my left falls like a towel, creating a shortcut. However, before creating another passage on the other side, the sound of footfalls catches my ears. Each step is loud and unnaturally heavy, almost like a beast.

I need to hide, or at least I'd prefer to, over another tussle. Currently frozen in the middle of a scarcely furnished room – sloppy job by the island architects – my only option is to dive behind the curtains right under the window.

Sitting in the corner, I hear the steps growing ever closer. With bated breath and senses sharpened, time slows to a crawl. As a safety measure, I plant my hands on the wall against my back and meddle with it slightly, only for the steps to come to a halt.

The person inhales the wretched air aggressively, like a hound. And sadly, that is the only aspect of my existence I cannot yet mask adequately. A moment later, the wall two steps to my left is blown to pieces, and through the dust and debris, a hulking figure dashes through.

Except I'm no longer there… The moment everything fell too silent, I made the bricks I was leaning against part like a curtain, and I rolled backwards.

We just barely missed each other, sadly.

So I skidaddle before the green-skinned monster in non-human skin can rip out my spine. It's the orc, and it only makes sense, since their kin is literally about being… Valka, basically. They are all Valkas. Magically analphabetic and tough as a rock, except these ones are far less pretty.

As much as I hate to admit it, my friend is gorgeous, and just from a glance, this thing's face looks like a dropped meatball. And it's even green… Looks matter, and they matter a lot.

Not-so-subtle rumbles of multiple walls being smashed to pieces convey the orc's displeasure. I'm already an entire block away, catching my breath on the second story of a fake workshop and observing my surroundings. I'm almost there, and my mana reserves love this pacifistic approach.

"I can be both the lion and the rat, and there's no shame in that." I hum while gathering all the water around the home in tubs and vases, and whatever to quench my thirst. "Why is that? Because I said so, that's why."

It's like a ghost town, showing next to no signs of battle either. Traps, sharpshooters, and assassins lying in ambush are still very much on the table, and if it were me, I'd be waiting around this exact stretch, closest to the boundary.

"Whispering a prayer and flying as fast as I can is definitely an option…" But in this moment of respite, my actual goals with this tournament come to mind. "To visit the holy lands and earn good points before I keep my promise to Valka… I need to win here."

Somewhat shallow goals, I know. No family or loved ones to save, no country to fervently fight for, nothing holy or poetic… Achievements are a type of currency, and my goals will cost a ton. The Fist is a business, not a charity.

"Yeah, no fucking around, Eli!" I mutter and leap out the window.

When I land, as if absorbing my fall, the winds burst around, whipping up all the dust and ashes. My actions are no different from screaming out loud, hungry for attention. The next step only feeds into the concentrated storm, whipping up a veritable dust hurricane as I walk.

I can barely see, and my hair is slapping my face, but that should also mean I'm a difficult target. I'm not the fastest gal in the eye of the storm, but my goal is right ahead. As if testing the waters, an arrow pierces the wall of feral wind.

It carries more than enough power to cut through, dangerously humming with void mana even, but it misses by a wide margin. "Well, that was pointless." I chuckle at the moron who fired. "They're growing restless, I see…"

The pressure is finally getting to everyone. The endgame is near, and the silence until now must've been maddening. But frankly… this is nothing. Our lives aren't even on the line.

My dust storm envelops buildings and sweeps across streets as I walk like a cloak. It's an extension of my body, and I can clearly feel it when someone brute-forces their way through my mana control.

The sensation is similar to a superficial wound, like a stab. "Can you really turn your back on me?" The female voice yells for me, in case her intrusion was overlooked.

When I turn my head, she's already standing just a few paces from me, bow taunt and arrow brimming with abyssal power. The elf is wearing a necklace similar to mine, about my height, and looks young for her age… just like me. She's wearing the colors of the federation proudly, which match her brown hair and green eyes.

So I raise an eyebrow and ask. "Should I know you?"

The girl's eye visibly twitches, almost as if announcing the arrow she lets loose just a moment later. An easy dodge. "The banquette, I was there! Our eyes met, and I knew at that moment this field would sing of our battle, Tyrant!"

I really can't remember her at all… Before my eyes is only a foreign face, a massive elven ego, and the type of mana I hate the most. Her Blessing might prove a little intriguing, but I'll leave that mystery for another day.

Before she can nock another arrow, I tap the ground and the tornado collapses onto us. Using this moment of utter chaos, I create a calm tunnel and slip away. The boundary is already right ahead of me, dividing this city of desolation from the scenery that calms my heart with just a glance.

The elven girl proves she's worth her spot on the team and escapes my storm snare in a few seconds. She fires a barrage of arrows my way, the bane of all mages… However, a few seconds turn out to be a second too long, and the arrows only bounce off the invisible wall.

Not harmlessly, though. They visibly crack the barrier ever so slightly, before it repairs itself in the blink of an eye. Void mana is a nasty thing, but naturally, an overwhelming supply of power can beat anything.

"Fine, let's have it your way!" The girl stares me down with a cocky smile. "We'll meet in the finale." She turns around and begins to walk away.

She can't cross, it seems. The wall between us is absolute, and there's nothing she can do…

The same isn't true for me, though.

Sparks of energy quickly envelop my fingers, and I leap across the boundary once more. With a thrust of my hand, lightning roars forth in three separate arcs, all aiming for the very same back. Caught by surprise, or perhaps lost in her thoughts, the girl fails to react.

Each and every bolt hits, and her shield depletes before she can as much as utter a word.

"Fucking amateur…" I mutter and pass the invisible wall once again.

Beyond the last dome, sitting at the center of the island is a tiny, serene lake and a vibrant meadow. It reminds me of the sanctuary very much, occupied by fireflies, and painting an almost dreamlike picture.

The clearing itself is enormous, almost around the size of the Academy's arena, albeit lined by nature instead of a cheering crowd. Since there's still plenty of time, I begin to wander, mainly to scout the area and check if anyone's already present.

When all my concerns are erased, only then do I begin to leisurely stroll around the area, dragging my feet and walking in circles around the lake. I continue for a good minute or two, at which point, umbral lines cover most of the surrounding area and even some of the water surface, painting a vortex.

"Not too shabby." I complement my first major application of the Flow.

It's a simple formation with the intent of concentrating mana and doing so extremely efficiently. My power supply is already scraping the barrel, but sacrificing the last drops, I pour it all into a single concentrated point, where mana becomes something more.

It overlaps, entangles itself across space and perhaps even time, redefining everything the world understands about magic.

Feed, Resonate!

The purple spark sinks into my lines of darkness and hums to life. With everything done and the air already turning more saturated with my own mana, I freeze a small patch of water in the lake's heart and gently sit down.

"Now, we wait!" I grin to myself, prepared for the grand finale.