Upon going down to the first floor, the princess realized that Derek and Lein had gone out, leaving her alone with Shadow.
How long ago did they leave? she wondered, since she hadn't seen them go—she'd been too absorbed in her reading.
She decided that until they returned, she might as well keep Shadow company, who still hadn't woken up.
Or so Zara thought. To her surprise, upon entering the room, she found Shadow sitting on the bed with a hand on her head—it seemed she'd woken up recently.
"Shadow!" The girl ran to hug her, leaping toward her.
The woman stifled a cry at the weight of Zara on her.
"Get off. I'm not healed yet," she managed to say in a strained voice.
"Ah, sorry." Zara stood up, giving Shadow space.
"What is this place? It doesn't look like a cave, much less a meadow."
"Derek and I brought you here when you passed out. It's a small farming village."
"It's not Fisherman's Rest?"
"No."
The woman cursed under her breath. She managed to stand, though with difficulty. Her sword was nearby, and Zara told her the bag was upstairs on the second floor.
Everything pointed to the woman wanting to leave right now—an idea that didn't seem to sit well with Zara.
"Hey, you're not in top form yet. You need to rest at least one more day," the princess said with a worried tone.
"You shouldn't have stopped. You could have left me." She tried to head to the second floor, but Zara stepped in front of her with a frown.
"Are you listening to yourself? Derek risked his life to get you out of that garrison. Do you think he'd abandon you just like that?"
"You don't understand, girl. From the moment we escaped the palace, we've been racing against time."
"Against what?"
A knock came at the door—the sound was light, but Zara heard it. It seemed to be a customer.
"Wait a second," Zara said before heading to the door.
She didn't wait long—she simply threw it open. She came face to face with a man with black hair and eyes of the same color, dressed in a white tunic with a large blue crescent moon on his chest.
The man sighed. His breath, cold as ice, reached the princess's face, making all her hair stand on end.
"Mmm, you match the description." The man grabbed Zara by the arm.
The princess shrieked at the man's touch, as it felt like he was freezing her arm. The man dragged her outside Lein's shop, ignoring the girl's attempts to resist.
"Hey, you're forgetting someone!"
The man turned to see a small knife graze his face, followed by a descending attack from Shadow.
An attack the man blocked with a shield of ice that appeared on his arm.
"The report said you would be a nuisance, though a minor one," the man said as he released Zara.
Quickly, a massive block of ice enclosed the princess up to her neck, and the shield dissolved.
The princess screamed in surprise. Though confused, she realized she didn't feel cold this time—she assumed that being a prison, its goal wasn't to freeze her to death.
But she had no time to waste thinking about trivialities, for the man had taken Shadow by the neck, lifting her as she struggled to break free—in vain.
Zara could see how little by little, the woman's neck seemed to be freezing.
"No! Let her go! You'll kill her! You already have what you came for!" she screamed desperately, while Shadow, barely having any strength, tried to free herself from the man's grip.
Then she saw a flash from the corner of her vision—a fireball directed straight at the man, who blocked it by raising a wall of ice.
Zara sighed in relief as she saw the man release the woman, concentrating his attention on Derek, who had just arrived. It seemed the village was about to become a battlefield. This story is hosted at novelping . com.
Pieces of ice and fireballs flew through the place, colliding with each other, causing explosions of cold and heat throughout the area.
The mage of Luneria blocked stray attacks with relative ease, raising walls left and right, while Derek only dodged. So far, neither had been hit.
This isn't working. I can tell just by looking at him—his mastery is far greater than mine. I won't win a battle of endurance, Derek thought.
Another volley of ice attacks was launched. This time, Derek didn't respond—he began running, circling the man, dodging them all.
In his path, a wall of ice rose, taking him by surprise. Unable to continue, he raised a wall of fire that melted the enemy's attacks on contact.
I feel my body burning. This sensation is strange—I've never been able to launch so many attacks in such a short time. What's happening to me?
He couldn't stay lost in his thoughts, as another volley of attacks was launched.
How is it possible that he can launch so many pieces of ice without blinking? he thought as he dodged.
He wanted to go help Zara, to help his sister, but he knew he couldn't ignore the enemy in front of him.
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Lein's figure approaching Zara after circling around his shop. The mage smiled, launching several fireballs as a counterattack.
For her part, the princess couldn't do anything to help, as the ice was too strong to break from the inside. Shadow was still on the ground, conscious but very weakened.
"Damn it. I'm supposed to be the adult, and all they do is save me," she complained, trying to stand.
Lein appeared beside them, gesturing for them to be quiet.
"I'll try to get you out of there, Princess. I'm sure I can make some potion to melt the ice," the man said, helping Shadow stand before heading into his shop.
Derek ran from one side to the other, returning attacks and dodging everything thrown at him. Though they were far away, they could tell fatigue was beginning to take its toll on him.
But Shadow seemed amazed—almost fascinated.
"Zara, when did Derek learn to fight so well?"
"I don't know, but it's good that he did."
He always wore himself out so quickly, even training back in Tarzovia. I've never seen him so determined, Shadow thought.
Derek dodged another group of projectiles. He was already feeling tired—he knew he couldn't keep this up much longer. He came to the conclusion that if ranged combat wasn't working, then he'd have to go hand-to-hand.
He charged straight at the mage, an action that seemed to surprise him. He tried to launch more attacks, but Derek was faster, unleashing a blaze that forced him to flee to the side.
His plan was successful—he got close enough to make ranged attacks ineffective, trusting that he'd be a better hand-to-hand fighter than this person.
"Bastard!" the man managed to say, taking a defensive stance.
"Not everything can be that easy in life!" Derek shouted at him mockingly, before burying his fist in the mage's face.
Or so he would have liked to feel. When he pulled his fist back, he could see that the mage had a thin protective layer of ice, now shattered.
He can do that too!?
The man created an ice blade in his hand and tried to stab Derek. Derek dodged and hit him with a kick to the abdomen, feeling that same sensation.
I think my punches hurt me more than they hurt him, he thought smiling, trying to stay confident.
He threw another punch—this time a small blaze came from his fist, aiming to melt the protective layer before striking, though the man barely managed to dodge it.
The mage counterattacked by creating a diagonal wall of ice, aiming to pierce through Derek. Derek stopped the attack by unleashing another great blaze.
Then he felt it—that sensation he seemed to have forgotten: spiritual strain. He staggered to the side, bleeding from his nose.
"It seems you've reached your limit, boy." The man smiled confidently—it was the first time he'd smiled since the battle began. "A pity I haven't."
The man created small ice orbs floating around him and charged forward. Though Derek seemed better at hand-to-hand combat, he was now weakened and had lost his advantage.
He dodged the ice blades as best he could, while the orbs tried to launch themselves at him. He managed to land some blows, but none seemed to do damage—he also noticed the ice regenerated slowly after breaking.
This is bad—really bad. My knuckles hurt. That ice is harder than it looks.
He knew one hit would be the end of the figth.
He threw a spinning kick at his head, but the man easily blocked it.
Derek watched in horror as one of the spheres hit him in the arm. The sphere quickly grew, trapping Derek's arm in a block of ice connected to the ground.
Derek grunted—the cold ice burned his skin on contact. He tried to burn the ice using fire, but then weakness struck him again, disabling his abilities.
He could only watch in defeat as the mage approached him, preparing one of the blades to finish the job.
"Even defeated, you have that annoying look on your face, Derek," the mage said.
"What?" Derek said, raising his eyebrows in confusion. "How do you know my name?"
"Oh, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything."
He got into position. Derek could see that he was enjoying seeing him in that position—defeated, with no way out.
I can feel it—I still have enough strength for one last burst of power, he thought, frowning. But he's waiting—he's cunning; he won't let his guard down. I need something—something that...
Something hit the man—a wooden spoon. They both looked at it in confusion, but were even more surprised to see that the one who'd thrown it was a woman from the village.
"Leave the boy alone, bastard!" she shouted with clear anger.
"Haven't you had enough of taking our young people!?" Now it was an old man, throwing a stone.
"You can't just show up and start attacking people!" Then a sickly-looking man.
"Get lost, mage! We don't want your kind here!"
"We want our people back! End the war!"
Little by little, more people began to appear, throwing things at the man—stones, utensils, perhaps even a knife—amid insults. Though nothing seemed to do more than scratch the ice layer.
"How annoying," he said, setting Derek aside for a second. "Should I eliminate them?"
The spheres reappeared. It was subtle, but Derek could see a small drop of blood fall from the man's nose—he was beginning to wear down.
This bastard—does he plan to kill them all? He thought, watching him prepare to attack. The frightened people began to back away a little, though some weren't intimidated.
Derek waited, patient. The man didn't seem to want to attack yet.
"Hey, son of a bitch," he said, smiling, drawing the mage's attention. "It seems these people don't like you, do they?"
A stone—thrown with a bit more force, perhaps a bit closer—hit him in the face, damaging the protective layer, leaving it more vulnerable.
"Leave my brother alone, you bastard!" Shadow shouted, leaning on Zara's shoulder. The ice prison lays shattered behind them and Lein has an empty potion on his hand.
The man quickly turned, taking a position from which he sought to attack all the villagers at once.
The spirit is connected to my soul, to my life, therefore to my body, Derek thought as the sole of his right foot began to burn. That means I can launch attacks with any part of my body, right?
The sole of his foot exploded in a blaze, propelling an upward kick. The man turned around, alarmed, but his reaction worked against him—he took the attack directly to his chin.
The layer, already damaged, shattered, and Derek could hear the cracking of the man's jawbones as he flew several meters backward.
Upon hitting the ground, Derek felt a sharp pain and couldn't help but scream. Though it seemed to have worked, that attack was too reckless and he could have hurt himself.
The ice block immobilizing his arm dissolved, freeing him. He began walking slowly, approaching the subject. Though he'd taken a good hit, the man tried to stand again.
"I told you, didn't I?" Derek said, smiling triumphantly over him. "That I'd send you nice and warm to the afterlife."
Derek threw a punch with all his remaining strength, breaking his nose and knocking out a tooth. After that, the man fell, finally unconscious.
"Ha, I won." He raised his arm with his fist closed, signaling his victory.
All the people in the place began to cheer Derek's victory. They seemed truly happy that he'd defeated the mage, though he didn't fully understand why.
His head began to spin. Well, I've held on long enough. That was the last thing he thought before falling unconscious.
Zara and Shadow ran to help him, closely followed by Lein, who couldn't believe anything he'd seen.
"That mage—by the tunic and the crescent moon, I'm sure he belongs to the Order of Mages," he said, laughing, still with surprise painted on his face. "And this boy defeated him. It's simply incredible."
"Yes. Damn it, that's my brother," Shadow said, lifting his unconscious body to hug him, as the villagers approached them to give thanks.