Chapter 38: The She-Devil
Ginevra ducked under an Arcane Arrow, sneering. "Cantrips? Have you grown *this* feeble, old man?"
Gianni didn't succumb to her insults. His only visible show of emotion was a twitch of his brow and a bulging vein on his forehead. The latter, though, was likely from the tension of the fight.
They both long ago didn't look their best.
Ginevra threw a Flame Arrow at him. She didn't need to read the incantation for that simple spell. But Gianni didn't need an incantation to catch it with a small, buckler-sized magic shield he conjured in front of his raised palm.
She threw a Frost Arrow right after, and this time Gianni had to dodge. The arrow landed on the ground, freezing spilled blood into slippery red ice.
*Defending is all you can, isn't it? I will shatter all your shields,* Ginevra through, her teeth clenching in determination.
She was on her own here. Soldiers have moved away from the fighting mages, giving them a wide berth to avoid collateral damage. Luciano ensured archers stopped shooting at Ginevra over their heads. Gianni's earth mage was out of the fight for days, if he would live at all.
But if Gianni fell, his army would crumble. Even now, the fight on the battlefield only kept going because they, the generals, still held strong.
So Ginevra pushed through the tiredness, grabbed hold of her mana—and she still had plenty left—and chanted another spell at the same time as Gianni.
"*From the depths of winter's domain, I summon the power of the freezing gale. Let it engulf my foes, turning their hearts to ice!*"
She finished just in time. Not a moment later, Gianni's spell caught hold of her, and she faltered, breathless—literally. Air escaped her lungs, and there was nothing around to replace it with. Ginevra gasped, reflexively trying to breathe, and failing. Sudden silence enveloped her, as if she was submerged underwater.
The prepared spell in her hand shook, ready to break.
She took a hold of herself. This was a surprise, but!..
Ginevra rolled forward, feeling the tendrils of mana tearing from the sudden jerk. Air rushed around her, sweet and filling.
She reached her hand out and let the Ice Nova spell explode with a blast of freezing air. Gianni gasped, stumbling back. The shield he put on himself even before this, shimmered and wavered as it absorbed the damage.
By Ginevra's estimate, a good blow or two like those will do it.
She pushed forward, chaining spells one after another, not giving them both a moment of a breather. Gianni had some other nasty spells at his disposal and was smart in using them—Ginevra was almost caught when he turned the already wet earth under her feet into thick mud—but he was just an old man.
An old man used to hiding behind the backs of other people. His shields, his enhancing spells—they all were signs of that weakness, and Ginevra exploited it.
She was going to win. She *had* to win. After Gianni destroyed her previous plans, *her father's* previous plans… There was just no other option.
It clearly had been a while since Gianni had last fought. He gave her ground, step by step. He took some, too. That moment in the mud cost Ginevra a hole in her shoulder—nothing too serious. The healing potion she drank a little earlier had already stopped blood and numbed the pain.
Another Flame Arrow hit his cuirass. The glyphs on it shone yet again, absorbing damage, but it wasn't enough. Gianni gasped from the blow and lost his balance, falling into the bloody dirt.
Ginevra was on him in the next moment, her sword raised for the finishing blow, but Gianni rolled to the side.
"She-devil, you belong in Hell!" he grunted, throwing a wordless Arcane Arrow at her.
She staggered as it whizzed too close to her ear, and it was enough that Gianni pushed to his feet again, panting.
Ginevra sensed he didn't have that much mana left. Neither did she—but there was enough to throw low circle spells like Frost and Flame Arrows at each other for a while longer.
The third circle spells they used in the beginning of the fight, now those took a lot of mana. First circle spells, in comparison, cost almost nothing.
So Ginevra cast a Frost Arrow again, aiming at Gianni's legs. He jerked to the side, avoiding it, but in the next moment Ginevra cut with her sword, forcing Gianni to step back as he parried the strike with his own blade.
His foot slipped on the ice created by Ginevra's arrow. Gianni faltered.
Ginevra slashed his ankle, sending blood flying. He fell with a grunt and a thud. This time, Ginevra was ready to finish him immediately.
She pushed her sword downward at Gianni's neck. The man's eyes widened, reflecting the light of sun and the glint of Ginevra's sword. There was fear in them, and a stubborn, desperate, useless refusal to accept this loss.
Something moved in the corner of Ginevra's eye. *An arrow?*
She reacted without thinking, stepping aside and raising the sword in a parry. It met with the projectile—a swift red crescent—slicing it in two. The halves splattered over Ginevra, and she realized the crescent blade was made from blood.
Her eyes darted to the origins of the projectile, and Ginevra sucked in a sharp breath.
"What?" she blinked, unsure if she was seeing things. "How?!"
It was Cael Oliveira, her brazen weak hostage. Except, he didn't look at all like the bruised man Ginevra let in her camp.
There was primal ferocity on his healed face, and blood covering his dirty, torn clothes. But most of all, his mana. His mana pulsed like it had no business doing. He was only a first rank mage!
At least, he was a day ago.
"Ginevra!" Cael shouted, pointing a sword at her. "I'll stop you here, and then stop your father, too!"
Ginevra clenched her teeth and curled her lips in a snarl.
"We will see!"
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