ArcaneCadence - 216 - A Tough Matchup

The next day, Vivi found herself heavily invested in the results of Saffra’s matches. Not because she cared where her apprentice placed, nor how other people would perceive Saffra, Vanguard, or the Sorceress based on the girl’s performance, but simply because Saffra herself was stressed about it.

Indeed, Vivi could see her apprentice’s anxiety fading with each match. Winning the second round and claiming top thirty-two eased the pressure noticeably. Afterward, securing top sixteen left her looking nearly relieved… though not quite relaxed yet.

“I’m still not convinced you aren’t rigging the matches,” the girl had muttered. “It shouldn’t be this easy. Something’s up.”

“I’m definitely not sneaking in undetectable debuffs at the most opportune times, I promise,” Vivi had sarcastically replied, earning a roll of Saffra’s eyes.

A victory in the third and final match of the day would leave Saffra as one of the top eight contestants, and from what Vivi had picked up, that was the benchmark she had set—the line of ‘good enough’ she wanted to cross to not feel like a failure. Similar to how in the open division bracket, she’d wanted to make it into the mithril-rank qualifiers.

Thus, Vivi was more engrossed in the outcome of the upcoming fight than even the finals of the bracket. Unless Saffra herself made it to that climactic match. But Vivi didn’t think that would happen. Much like in the adventuring world at large, the power levels of the strongest individuals ballooned toward the summit. Top thirty-two wasn’t comparable to top eight, and often, top eight wasn’t comparable to top two. 

Vivi doubted she’d be discovering any Titled thirteen-year-olds or anything as ridiculous as that, but there were going to be a few true freaks of nature. Ones that would be able to overcome all of the advantages and gifts she had tried smothering her apprentice with. 

Even Saffra knew it. Despite her recent successes and the ease with which she was winning, she’d never spoken like she imagined she would make it to the peak of the bracket.

When the time for Saffra’s last match of the day arrived, Vivi dropped the girl off at the competitors' waiting area, wished her luck, and [Blinked] up to Vanguard’s spectator booth.

Rafael was present inside. Plenty of the guild had been showing up to Saffra’s matches, but Rafael’s attendance was a much rarer sight. With the stadium’s completion and the tournament already in motion, he’d found reprieve from his recent workload, but he still shouldered enough responsibilities to flatten four regular stewards.

Vivi slid into the Sorceress’s designated seat. Rafael was lounging in the spot to its right; the left one was where Saffra usually sat. “Surprised to see you here,” she opened.

Rafael hummed. “Yes, well, I believe it’s going to be an interesting match.”

Her stomach dropped at the foreboding statement. She didn’t want this fight to be interesting. She wanted Saffra to steamroll it so that she could rest easy knowing the girl had reached her minimum goal. 

“You do? Why?”

“I haven’t been studying every participant of the tournament, but I’ve kept tabs,” Rafael said. “Half our purpose is scouting, is it not? Apparently the young lady’s opponent this evening is formidable.”

“Formidable,” she repeated flatly. “How much so?” 

“The reports suggest he has high odds of emerging the victor.”

“Of the match?”

“Of the bracket.”

First place overall? she thought. Saffra had been tracking her opponents round by round, and during their discussions, the girl hadn’t seemed to think she was facing down a juggernaut. So this was news to Vivi.

She wondered if she should’ve made use of Rafael and gotten detailed profiles on everyone. The idea hadn’t occurred to her until that moment.

“Wonderful,” she grumbled. “That’s just her luck. Who is he?”

“That’s the curious part. A nobody. No history to speak of. Not that such a thing is all that rare for a child compared to, say, an unknown Titled, but usually the most talented of a generation develop a degree of reputation at any age. To answer your question literally, his name is Fotios. No surname provided.”

It didn’t ring any bells, nor should it have. She knew some important figures through the lore of Seven Cataclysms, but this was the youth bracket. Any recognizable name would be at least a hundred years old.

“Saffra said he’s a martial artist who uses fire skills,” Vivi said. “What’d he do that caught your attention?”

The announcer’s booming words and the stadium’s cheers cut off Rafael’s response. Two individuals walked out onto the central sparring platform. The first was Saffra donning her new gear, minus the brimmed hat—Vivi and Malach had unfortunately not finished the entire set in time. 

Striding next to the catgirl was a boy wearing baggy trousers, with a sash for a belt, bare feet, and a shirtless torso. His brown hair was windswept and wild, his skin was tanned by the sun, and he wore a huge grin as he waved at the crowd, green eyes bright and eager.

It would be highly unreasonable for a grown woman to get annoyed at a teenaged boy, maybe a pre-teen boy, for making her apprentice look withdrawn and over-serious by comparison, so no such emotion flickered through her.

“He beat one of the top four expected finalists, the youngest prince of the Northern Kingdom, rather handily,” Rafael said. “And by that, I mean without a scratch. It was an extremely dominant showing.”

Vivi’s dismay grew. 

So.

One of the ‘true freaks of nature’ that she’d been musing about earlier.

Her and Rafael’s discussion lulled as the announcer called out the beginning of the fight. As with almost all matches, a conversation sparked rather than the two participants bursting into a frenzy of spells and skills.

The stadium didn’t project the fighters’ words, and in fact the arena had built-in privacy enchantments since high-Titled wouldn’t want their exchanges broadcast, but Vivi could sneak past them to listen in. She couldn’t resist the urge even if it was maybe eavesdropping.

“So, you’re some kind of mage?” the boy asked, his voice as easygoing as the rest of his demeanor. “You look like a mage.” He propped his hands on his hips, radiating a passive confidence that somehow lacked arrogance. “I like fighting mages. Magic is cool. What’s your specialty? You’ve gotta have something fun if you’re from Vanguard.”

Sounds like he doesn’t know she’s my apprentice, Vivi thought. It wasn’t that huge of a secret, so that meant he was underinformed. Not connected to high society. Or he’s playing mind games.

…maybe she shouldn’t analyze the actions and motives of a young teenager so closely.

“I guess you’ll find out,” Saffra replied, not harshly, but not in a friendly tone either. She leveled her staff toward him.

He started bouncing on the balls of his feet, shifting his weight from one to the other. “I like your ears, by the way.”

Saffra faltered. “You… what?”

“Your ears.” He stuck his hands on his head, pointer fingers stretched upward, and wiggled them. “They’re cute.”

Saffra wasn’t the only one to gawk at him; Vivi did too.

“Excuse me?”

“Oh, sorry. Is that weird to say? I’m not used to talking with other people, apparently I say weird things a lot.”

Saffra stared at him for several seconds. Her grip tightened on her staff. “I’m… going to start the fight now.”

“All right.” He dropped into a steady stance and lifted his fists. “Please don’t feel bad about losing. It’s not really a fair fight.”

Saffra’s eyes narrowed. Somehow, Vivi didn’t detect a shred of condescension in the boy’s words. He sounded almost encouraging. She wondered if Saffra would be so generous in her interpretation.

“[Scorchlance].”

The spear of fire flew toward Fotios, but he’d already crossed most of the arena. He weaved to the left of the elemental attack, flames tickling his back.

Fast, Vivi thought. Very fast, for this bracket. 

It was an immediately bad sign.

An [Ice Slick] coated the ground beneath him, conjured with impressive speed—Saffra really was improving. But the boy didn’t bother dodging the area-denial spell. In a feat of admirable dexterity, he slid along the slippery surface on his bare feet, then recovered seamlessly when he met solid footing again.

Then he arrived in front of Saffra, which was never good news for a mage. With that same easygoing and excited grin, he punched her in the gut. 

Vivi’s finger started tapping on her armrest. She’d gotten mostly used to the violence of this world, but seeing kids pummel one another, let alone someone doing so to her apprentice, obviously aggravated her. It always would.

“Whoa,” Fotios said as he backed away. “What are those robes made of? It’s like punching a brick wall… made of cushions.”

Saffra had taken the hit well, and she stayed focused on the fight, brow furrowed as she pulled together her next spell. The slice of void energy that rushed forward met empty air, though. Fotios twisted away, then pounced with a spinning kick, his foot wreathed in yellow and orange fire. 

“[Mana Barrier].”

Though Saffra erected the arcane defense in time, Fotios’s heel shattered the pane of blue energy. His skill-empowered blow struck her in the side, and she went staggering sideways, only barely keeping herself from falling over despite her robes’ enchantments.

“What was that black spell?” he asked, hands suddenly in his pockets. 

He strode closer without hurry, tilting his head in innocent curiosity as he closed the gap. Saffra’s staff came crashing toward his skull, but he leaned backward and avoided it by a hair’s breadth. He did the same to her next two attacks, dodging by inches. She tried retreating to make space, but he pursued to deliver two more kicks, the second one catching Saffra’s knee on the side and making her collapse. 

“And really, those robes are super neat. I’ve never felt a defensive enchantment like that. Vanguard would have the best, I suppose.” 

He’s way too fast for her, Vivi thought, her gloom growing by the second. A quick melee fighter like this already held the upper hand in a low-rank duel against a mage, and the fact that he outclassed her too didn’t help.

“Are we sure I can’t cheat to help her?” Vivi asked.

“It would certainly be an exciting scandal to smooth over.”

“Don’t humor me, because I’m only half joking.”

Rafael made a sympathetic noise. “Do not cheat on your apprentice’s behalf, Lady Vivisari. She would rather lose honestly.”

Vivi scowled.

Below, the fight continued, with her doing the equivalent of sitting on the edge of her seat and clutching at the armrests—not that her body allowed such a dramatic pose. It wasn’t a complete non-fight despite the dominance on display, because, a bit to her surprise, Saffra managed to score a hit with her second [Void Slice]. A grazing blow, but still a fair-and-square connection.

The boy jogged back, eyes widening at the cut that sliced down from the front of his shoulder to his bicep. He poked a finger against the light wound, blinked at the red smear, then beamed at Saffra. 

“Wow! You really are good.”

Saffra didn’t engage in the banter and instead capitalized on the boy’s casual disregard of her—the brief distraction she’d created.

“[Nullification Pulse].”

The bubble of black energy expanded around Fotios, and Vivi sat up straighter. Maybe there’s a chance after all?

It would be a victory stemming from the boy not taking his opponent seriously, but that hardly mattered. Victory was victory.

Shock appeared on Fotios’s face as, for the first time in the match, he seemed unsteady on his feet. The void spell had sabotaged his skills and even his stats. Most fighters had experience with adjusting to an abrupt change in their capabilities, but not one as bizarre as [Nullification Pulse].

His defenses had been shattered, whatever they might be. A follow-up spell would be a grievous wound if not an instant win, unless he was absurdly higher level than Saffra. Which shouldn’t be possible for someone belonging in this youth bracket.

“[Scorchlance]!”

Saffra activated her most reliable offensive spell. The spear of elemental energy flew toward the boy. He tried to dash away, but his movement abilities had been impeded; he staggered as his limbs didn’t respond as they should. 

His eyes widened and, for once, he appeared worried. He could surely sense he was weakened, that he couldn’t take the blow head-on.

Except…

In the instant before Saffra’s spell impacted, Vivi watched something incredible happen. The boy closed his eyes, flexed, and a brilliant yellow, orange, and red fire engulfed him from head to toe. 

Despite [Nullification Pulse] being active, void energy melted away with no resistance.

[Scorchlance] slammed into him with an explosion, and when the fire cleared, Fotios was standing there, singed, but relatively unharmed. 

“Wow,” he gushed with all the earnestness in the world. “Your magic is, uh, kinda creepy, but yeah—super amazing! You turned off my skills. How’d you do that?”

Dismay flashed across Saffra’s face, but she was already casting her next spell. She really was as professional as any other career adventurer. Fazed by nothing.

“My lady?” Rafael asked.

Vivi realized she was sitting rigid in her seat. “You looked into him, right?” she murmured. 

“Yes,” Rafael said, his concern blatant—the Sorceress had been caught by surprise, and that would always be alarming. “But as I mentioned, there was little to find.”

“He passed the tournament’s divinations? He belongs in this bracket?”

“So far as he vouched and our methods allowed us to confirm. Why do you ask?”

Vivi forced herself to lean back and relax. It wasn’t some cataclysmic event. She was just shocked. She scrutinized the cheerful boy as he continued toying with Saffra, dancing around the arena and not ending the fight like he so clearly could whenever he wanted to. 

“Because that,” she finally replied, “was definitely phoenix fire.”

***

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