Argrave seemed to have a penchant for fighting powerful people in high towers with the intent of subverting their governance. This was the second time—not a lot by any measure, but even still, it was strange that it had happened twice. This time, Argrave had a lot more at his disposal than a bag of Ebonice arrowheads and a gutful of spite.
Magister Vera held both of her hands out, palms whirling with spell matrixes as she contested Ivan with her magic. The margrave became aglow with golden sparks as he took blow after blow as though they were nothing. Bolts of lightning exploded into pillars of frost, flames soared out like gusts of wind… yet still he resisted, taking them all with the aid of the enchantments inscribed along the wall, the floors, and the ceiling.
Vera’s A-rank ascension, [Two-Faced], imbued all of her elemental spells with another element of her choosing. It defied the conventional logic of all the elements, yet its effect was undeniably powerful. She could send lightning-fast projectiles that exploded into ice or send fire through the air with the structure and force of wind magic.
Margrave Ivan, her target, was far from a static target. He stepped about the room, commanding the spells writ into the stone in magic to assault them at no expenditure to himself. Spears of ice came from the walls in relentless waves, lightning rained down from above, jaws of fire bit from below like wolves nipping at the heels…
But then, Vera was not alone.
Closely bunched with the others, Vasilisa handled all attacks with the grace of a figure skater. With a snap of her finger, a stomp of her foot, a clench of her fist, a whistle from her mouth, or even a turn of her head, wards rose to confront each and every attack like the woman had an enchanted array just like Ivan’s hidden out of sight. Hegazar and Anneliese’s magic defense, though robust, seemed lacking sorely beside hers.
Vasilisa’s ascension was singular in effect and somewhat underwhelming by simple observation. She needed no spell matrix to cast magic. She needed only vague gesture and clear intent: as such, her ascension bore the name [Matrix of the Body].
Even then, Hegazar, Vera, and Anneliese together were not enough to resist Ivan’s relentless barrage. Galamon was the only able to deal with the faster magics—with one Giantkiller held in his right hand to ward lightning and the left hand occupied with his Ebonice axe, his weapons soared through the air as though he fought ghosts. Their position was so unfavorable even the four of them could not block all attacks, and the wounds mounted—slight, yet building.
“You won’t outlast me. It was over the moment you attacked me in my tower,” Ivan declared in a moment of quietude.
Then, the margrave’s assault resumed. Powerful gusts of wind dominated the room, sending flames and ash billowing about in every direction. Lightning rained down once again, redoubled in intensity—Galamon had to drop his Ebonice axe and retrieve the other Giantkiller to receive the sparking assault. Anneliese, once idle, had to join in the defense. Vera’s attacks cut through this storm of chaos like a sword, yet Ivan’s wards defended him effortlessly.
Ivan was doing his best to win. His foes were hard-pressed to defend, and his reserves of enchantments within the tower were without an end. With so many variables in this battle, though… it was forgivable to forget a few. And Argrave had been counting on that.
Argrave stood in the corner of the room, keeping a low profile to avoid stray attacks. He was concealed by Hegazar’s magic. Maybe if Ivan hadn’t been trying to end three Magisters, he would’ve seen through the illusion quite easily. But locked in mortal combat as he was… he could hardly be pressed to acknowledge the B-rank mage in the corner, preparing only one spell.
With an eerie calm over him, Argrave watched as the silver bracer on his arm slowly lost the essence within it—not blood in its liquid form, but rather the core mystical constitution of blood magic. This essence had been gathering for well over a month. He poured all of it within the [Bloodfeud Bow], its power growing and growing. It was starting to distort the air near Argrave with a reddish-black mist, and the illusion spell wavered slightly.
Finally, though, biting pain started to course through his wrist, and Argrave winced. The bracer was drained. Even still, he held. Argrave rose from his crouching position and walked as the spell tore at his vitality. Hegazar’s illusion magic shattered from the intensity of the spell, revealing Argrave in earnest. Ivan’s gaze rushed to Argrave, his recognition slowing turning to caution as he witnessed the prepared spell distorting the very air around him.
Ivan eyed Argrave, prepared to move any direction as he concurrently redirected attack efforts towards him. It was only one attack—if Argrave were to fire it, the man would have to dodge or defend and then it would be nullified. One shot, one opportunity… if the Magisters restrained him long enough to get an attack off, it would be over. But Argrave remembered well nearly missing his target the first time he’d use [Bloodfeud Bow] all those months ago in the wetlands. Ivan was far smaller than the giant ape in that foul place, and smarter as well. Argrave preferred a surer target.
Argrave craned his back forward, shifting on his feet back. He took aim… and released the arrow towards the floor below.
The maroon bolt of pure destructive power tore through all below them with speed far beyond any other times Argrave had ever used it. To describe it simply… the first few floors beneath them merely vanished as soon as the arrow left Argrave’s bow. Far below, the other floors folded inwards, a gaping hole punched straight through the center.
When facing a foe with an undeniable advantage… Argrave didn’t believe it was prudent to engage in a slugging match. Instead, he’d rather strip them of their advantage.
The sudden lack of anything beneath his body subjected Argrave to the whims of gravity. The sound was so deafening his hearing vanished in wake of a simple ringing. He looked back up, dazed and full of adrenaline, to witness the utter shock and dismay on Ivan’s face as he saw his tower gutted. His reliance on the tower’s enchantments left him out of his element and unprepared to call upon his own magic.
His adversaries were not so off-balance.
Vera conjured a familiar spell of transportation, and a bird of wind took shape beneath them. It slammed into Ivan with all the speed of a car, pinning him to the still-stable wall while suspending everyone except Argrave in the air. The complete destruction of all the tower’s floors weakened the protective enchantments, but did not diminish them totally—still, Ivan coughed up blood from the blow, displaying his weakness plainly. As Argrave fell down, he witnessed Galamon jam both Giantkillers into Ivan’s chest. The tower’s enchantments still worked to defend him as brilliant blue lightning exploded in all directions… yet then Vasilisa joined the attack, and Hegazar next, contributing spells of their own.
Argrave fell too far to see what happened after. As he tumbled through the air without purchase, he briefly wondered if he should be concerned about the rapidly approaching floors below. Above, he spotted someone diving towards him. Anneliese caught Argrave, maneuvering with her wind-enchanted boots through the air. She couldn’t stop their fall, but she could slow it, and so they descended downwards ever so slowly.
While gathering his bearings and straining to get into a more accommodating position, Argrave’s ears slowly stopped ringing. The most comfortable position was still awkward—he stood atop her feet, hands holding her shoulders for balance. Even with the wind enchantment, their descent was quite rapid from the weight of the two of them.
“The tower walls are holding. Now, it’s just like a big chimney,” he said, barely able to hear his own voice over the fading tinnitus. “Thanks for the save, Mary Poppins,” he commended, adrenaline manifesting as triumphant exuberance.
Anneliese was not so quick to speak, clearly still locked in the battle. She stared at the scene above. After a few seconds… something started to fall down, liquid draining from it as it fell. A touch of warmth splashed on Argrave’s cheek, and Ivan’s body fell just after… down, down, and down, accompanied by a small shower of blood.
“The walls were always sturdier than the floor,” Anneliese said after the body had passed, looking down at Argrave. “Castro let me study the make of the Tower of the Gray Owl somewhat. I am glad the knowledge was useful.”
Argrave looked down, feeling some anxiety as the adrenaline washed away. Great clouds of debris dominated far below, rising upwards even still from the momentum of the crash.
“The flame will be down there,” Argrave noted, turning his eyes back up to study Anneliese’s face. “And potentially… the key to your A-rank ascension.”
Anneliese had been looking down and raised her head back up to stare at Argrave. Her amber eyes filled with hesitant anticipation as they descended ever lower.