Legend of the Spellthief

Logan sighed deeply as he rested on his bed. Whilst not rapid, his fights were like a gauntlet to be done in such a manner. The tournament wasn’t just a test of prowess in combat, but also reserving your resources against difficult foes, not to mention maintaining your fatigue levels.

The Spellthief at least felt some solace in the fact he had almost a full day of rest between matches, allowing Logan to get some sleep before the next day’s fights would commence.

With such privacy, Logan was easily able to summon up his elementals to gain his allotment of MP for the day.

It was fortunate that Logan had this access to MP, as 50 was a good number for Sorcerers to have at his level, combining it with his normal spell slots allowed him more. Combined with his demonhood stages that pushed his limitations for mental fatigue, Logan was primed for gauntlet scenarios.

With so many fights to get through, the next few days went quickly. Logan was subjected to five fights, two more he won easily due to putting his opponents to sleep within the beginning seconds, one that wasn’t adept at countering teleportations, and two more that were of middling difficulty.

Logan was lucky enough that he had some weaker combatants when compared to some others Logan had faced.

“Level up! Gain: 8 HP, +1 Str, +1 Agi, +1 Con, +1 Int. You have 1 attribute point to spend.”

The ninth day had a strange start for Logan, as the Spellthief was able to experience a “cheater” of sorts in the competition. During the first minute of the confrontation, Logan noticed the weapons of his foe moving around the field and the opponent’s body in a weird way, more than just wind and momentum.

This was also caught by the referees as Logan went wider with his movements and even called a time-out as he accused his foe of using Telekinesis.

“Odart has been observed using a Demon-Clan spell known as Telekinesis. As this was not discussed before the fight, he has broken the rules and is subsequently disqualified. Logan is the winner by default.”

There was little doubt in Logan’s mind that Odart had been using it more discreetly in previous matches, but Logan was finely tuned to that particular spell at this point.

The next fight on the tenth day had a bit more oomph to it. Logan faced off against another Fighter, the most common of class.

“We’ve got a fun quarter-final match here, folks. Logan Hall, the guildmaster of Vip, versus Arctus, the guildmaster of Reigning Sword”, Rebrin commentated.

“Arctus was retired until last year when he picked up the blade in response to certain events”, Strolbem added.

“A clash of guildmasters will certainly show how each man views another classed being, there’s no doubt both of these men know a lot about classes not their own”, Bref calculated.

Arctus then brought up both hands, made a hand signal with his index, middle, and ring fingers extended and his pinky holding down his thumb, with the other hand he made the same sign but crossed it horizontally over his other hand.

“Ah. Arctus is calling for a removal of additional rules”, Rebrin explained as his voiced extended across the arena.

Logan thought for a moment, “If he wants them removed, he most likely gets a lot of power from something he can’t use”, before slowly shaking his hand in a “no” motion.

“And there’s the decline”, Strolbem added.

Arctus shrugged as he drew his sword.

The air crackled with anticipation as the announcers continued their speeches, a palpable energy vibrated through the brick walls, accented by the scarce static of the barriers protecting the roaring crowd. A stampede of stomping feet was accompanied by cheers and jeers, pouches clinking for those making bets in person, eyes glued to gems for those who did it via magic.

Arctus was a man of steel, not just his signet and armour, but his body. Sculpted over several years of hard work, Arctus’s sword gleamed in the new sunlight and was held as if an extension of his arm. Flourishing it in his stance, Arctus displayed a wise attitude to conflict and form, his blue eyes shifting ever so slightly as he looked over Logan.

With his off-hand, Arctus ran his black and grey hair back out of his face just before Rebrin made the final call of, “Fight”, sending the crowd into a more hushed tone.

As Logan stepped forward, his boot making a solid tap on the sandstone floor, the crowd almost whispered, “Phasing Hunter”, over his movements, pushing him toward victory or dragging him to failure, it was hard to tell.

Snapping his fingers and chanting, “Flame Shot”, Logan formed a shimmering ball of fire in his palm before hurling it towards Arctus.

The Fighter replied with a quick slice of his sword, sending a shockwave of power that cut the ball in half, dissipating its reds into nothingness. Dandelions followed quickly thereafter, though Arctus merely grabbed a fistful of the Sleep spell aimed at him and threw it to the floor.

Arctus turned his head to the crowd, giving a curt nod to someone amongst the masses, and grinned slightly as he Rushed towards the mage far from his position. Sandstone cascaded upwards from the Fighter’s strong heels crashing into the ground, the crowd cheering with heated cries.

Logan met his opponent’s emotions with a wall of fiery passion, erupting and blocking safe passage to him. Arctus cut through the fires with ease, bisecting them as he skipped over the embers on the floor.

Logan flew his hand towards his foe with another volley of fire, but Arctus clashed it with his blade, the magical energies exploding over steel and essentially riposting each other. Clinks followed the boom of power as Logan’s fires turned the crushed sandstone to glass in an instant.

Arctus flowed his sword from one hand to the other and spun around, creating a whirlwind of energy that cut apart the glass, stone, and Logan’s defensive Barrier that hovered in front of his fingers.

The blue hexagons of Logan’s spell shimmered white with each strike from Arctus, the Fighter’s steel sword staying strong against magical onslaughts and barricades.

Logan’s form warped to its centre as he wanted further distance from this foe, apparating at the far end of the arena to the shocked awe of the crowd behind him. Making two claws, Logan concentrated hard as he closed his eyes, before opening them to four as he activated his Vaskt Vision.

As fire spawned in the air above Arctus, the Fighter’s body had even more air envelope it as he similarly teleported, appearing in front of Logan who had to change his Skystrike spell.

Thrusting hands at his foe, Logan and Arctus entered a battle of death, a dance of fire and steel, reds and silvers clashed and melded. This struggle between the elements and steeled will of men continued into minutes. Logan and Arctus side-stepped, skipped, leapt, and flipped around the battleground as magic met might.

Arctus was relentless in his concentration, his face soaked in sweat and streaking the colours of ruby and topaz. He pressed onwards, forcing his stronger muscles against the forces of nature that Logan employed.

The blur of steel became even more translucent as Logan slammed both his hands together, evaporating water with flame, a large whoosh of fog created in his palms that spread quickly all around.

Grey cut into white to reveal the blues, yellows, and pinks of Logan, getting redder as Arctus merely cut apart the mist to land a solid strike into the Spellthief.

Arctus struck with deadly accuracy no matter the affair, a blockage of sight meant little to one of his experience against other classes.

While Arctus’s face was red from the heat, Logan’s went pale against a Fighter with such speed. He gritted his teeth before chanting, “Haste”, improving his speed to match and surpass the melee opponent he was faced with.

Colours drastically changed as Logan moved on to his other spell types, hoping to lull Arctus into a false sense of safety that he was only facing a fire mage. Lightning crackled in the air as the crowd let out thunderous applause, blue daggers danced over Arctus’s sword and to his fist before he swung the spell away.

Logan waved his hand over the ground towards his foe, the sandstone raising quickly underfoot with countless stone hands grabbing out at Arctus.

The Fighter twirled his sword and dug it down into the rock, shattering the meagre spell effortlessly as it crumbled beneath his feet.

The rock was parted evermore as water surged between the cracks, blasting into a blocking sword of the Fighter, parting the waves like Moses.

Water froze over into shards of ice as Logan continued to cycle his elements against the foe in front of him, the Fighter cutting it apart before relinquishing his position with another teleport.

Logan teleported just like his foe to appear face to face, but they both teleported again to swap another time.

Steel met ice as Logan pulled out his frozen lord edge to meet Arctus’s shortsword. The grinding of materials caused sparks to fly and push the crowd into another state of adrenaline. A caster resorting to a weapon was rare, but Logan had displayed it enough to signal this as a sort of “signature move” of his.

Logan’s wrist felt the weight of his opponent’s strength, twisting his hand he instead allowed the sword to travel to his side. He could only deflect and reposition, he couldn’t fight might with might.

With an increased velocity of movement, Logan let go of his frozen lord edge with his right hand to grab onto Arctus’s face like he had done to foes before. Trying to force a Fighter to the floor was quite the power move, but this time it would not work, Arctus’s body was like a marble column resisting a resting man’s shoulder.

Grabbing his dagger with his left hand, Logan spun around to dive it into Arctus’s back, but his grasp slipped off the man’s face. Arctus rolled away from Logan and returned to an upright position as he cut at the air, sending another wave of energy at the spellcaster.

Logan dodged and formed a great shadowy claw over his right hand as he chanted, “Necromantic Second Shot”, causing the claw to grow from his arm and fly towards Arctus.

Arctus blocked, as usual, the claw wrapping around his blade. Logan pulled back harshly, the claw moving with him and drawing his foe in closer.

Quickly replacing his artefact blade with a normal Bowen dagger, Logan threw it at his foe. Arctus was off-balance somewhat, but mostly dodged the ranged attack as it left a flesh wound on his cheek.

Logan’s shadow spell faded as it let go of Arctus’s blade, forcing him into his next movement. “Lightning Cascade”, Logan chanted, an enormous quantity of electricity arms forming from his fingertips and shot for the Fighter.

Arctus moved to cut at the lightning to dissipate it like so many spells before, however, the lightning soared to the Fighter’s side and hit into Logan’s Bowen dagger.

The dagger shattered, but the lightning persisted, making a U-turn like a delivery driver on a deadline the lightning crashed into Arctus’s back and pricked him all over.

With his other hand, Logan pushed forward slightly as he Multicast another Lightning Cascade, two volleys of the spell compressing the Fighter as he shook all over from the static shock.

Arctus flexed his body to bat away the last breaths of power from Logan’s spell, a massive stomp in the ground starting another Rush at the caster. Arctus’s eyes showed a hint of worry through the concentrated gaze as Logan’s form whirred out from view.

The Fighter knew this wasn’t what teleportation looked like, at least not Dimensional Jaunt, but a second passed before he heard and saw the similar blast of air where Logan just was, and then another behind himself.

Turning on a dime to slash at the foe behind him, Arctus just hit the air. The Fighter had identified the situation wrongly, a split-second decision based on something he hadn’t encountered.

What was a known encounter was that of several stone spikes from the floor having penetrated the Fighter from behind. Arctus coughed up blood as he fell still on the spikes, falling to the floor as they fell.

Logan sighed as he turned off his invisibility. His plan of using Air Blasts in both directions to emulate a warping of wind, and then a Wind Skystrike behind Arctus was guileful enough to have tricked the Figher into thinking he had used Dimensional Jaunt.

“Logan is the victor!” Rebrin announced, accompanied by a loud crowd.

The crowd erupted, a wave of sound that shook the stands they all stood upon. The display of magic versus might certainly continued to prove the worth of casters as a whole, Logan easily showing it was not a fluke when he won against so many others. Arctus was respected, and the fight itself was respectful.

“That’s the first time seeing Logan disappear in such a manner”, Strolbem commentated.

“Such a breadth of mastered spells, Logan is sure to be a contender for the final matches”, Bref praised.

“Can he keep up this pace? That was a fair number of spells cast in a single match”, Rebrin asked.

“The ploy of using several spells to fake a teleport certainly won him some easy hits, but yes, costly in slot economy”, Strolbem replied.

“Let us hope Logan stocked up on many potions. But for now, this match is complete. Return—”

Logan walked slowly through the portcullis gate that reopened to let him return to his room, his mind racing with plans. He would need to weigh different tactics against his next two different adversaries thoroughly but quickly.

While a normal Wizard could easily drink potions to recover spell slots, Logan’s MP was from his elementals, so he couldn’t regain it. He’d need to recover what slots he did have outside of combat, or hazard a drink during a fight.

--- *** ---