Chương 21

Holy fucking shit. It was his final thought before he was plunged into the ice. For a second he was submerged; he could barely see. He cast about wildly, instinctively feeling with his senses, and felt only a uniform brightness, everywhere he 'looked' with his soul— This water was rife with mana. A few feet above he felt a different kind of mana, more tightly packed, a fractured ceiling of this mana type above his head— ice mana?

A chunk of this ice mana was 'dimmer' than the rest, and its fissures ran deeper than the brighter ice. And then his head was clear of the water and he was gasping, teeth clenched. The cold shocked him awake. Everything felt perfectly clear. He wasn't lying when he'd spoken to the Templar archer. In a second, a line of hardened mana stretched between him and the shore.

The icy water felt so cold, he swore he could feel it draining away his ability to move, numbing his limbs, but it didn't stop him splashing for the edge—grabbing his sword, which was lying on an ice chunk right next to where he'd fallen through. He glanced around, gasping—he was currently in a fifteen-foot-long 'lake' littered with shattered chunks of ice. He knew he had to move very fast.

I can't let them up, not after I worked so fucking hard to get them in— He was very aware of the Templar archer and the Templar warrior's positions. They'd fallen from something like seven feet up, and they were also significantly heavier, laden down—they'd fallen deeper in, but he could see them rising to the surface. A cry in the distance; Alex chanced a glance up and saw a Templar collapse a few dozen feet away, skidding into the distance.

It was the Templar healer, who'd tried rushing in to help his allies—a man who'd escaped Alex's thinking entirely, up until this point. An arrow speared the Templar through the midsection. Alex grinned through chattering teeth. Archer-guy, coming in clutch. Archer-guy wasn't done. He drew a second arrow, fumbled it briefly—his hands seemed to be shaking a bit—then he notched it, lit up the arrow with Pure mana. The arrow speared into the waters just as Alex pulled himself to shore.

Its arrowtip visibly dimmed as the instant it entered the water, almost like the mana in the water suppressed it slightly. But still— SCHLUNK. Blood in the water as it stabbed into the Templar warrior's side. There was a sound like a shout from in the lake; the Templar archer kicked ferociously for the surface. Alex clenched his teeth tight. Now for the question, can I turn a mana shield sideways? If he was honest, his idea had stopped pretty much at this point.

With the Templars in the water, and him and a teammate over. This bit was sheer improvisation. The Templar warrior reached the surface first. Or he would've, if not for the Mana Shield Alex placed right on top of the water, like a lid—wedging it between two chunks of ice. In the open space where the warrior tried to surface. He couldn't yet place two Mana Shields at the same time, so he fashioned two Mana Spears for the Templar archer.

As she breached the surface, she was greeted by two Force-slicked spears, diving at her with hardly any wobble. She raised her arms to block; the force pushed her back under a few feet, and Alex heard her scream of frustration. He was quite cold, and it was still a little chilling. If she hadn't been going 100% before, there was no question about it now. Still— that water… He'd felt it a little when he was in it, but he'd thought it was just sheer cold doing its work.

She wasn't moving in it like he would've thought, and neither was the Templar warrior. It was like the effects of icy water on a human was exaggerated. The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. This wasn't any simple water, this was mana-filled water. A second arrow pierced the water, this time arching for the Templar archer's head; even suppressed as she was, she somehow had the awareness to deflect it off the steel bracers on her arms.

More shouts in the distance. Alex chanced a glance over his shoulder, and saw the Templar swordsman—the guy he'd kicked across the ice—seemingly ready to make a break for it, across a twenty-foot-long stretch of fractured, glassy ice. An arrow arrived from archer-guy, breaking up the ice at the swordsman's feet, and the man seemed to lose his nerve. A part of Alex's mind was still on the fake Mana Spears he'd just unleashed. They flew almost exactly as he envisioned. The Templar warrior was right.

Even if Alex hadn't been consciously altering his spear, clearly some part of him was subconsciously getting better and better at it purely from practicing under pressure. On impulse he sent a third Mana Spear diving at the Templar archer, a bit prematurely; it lost a lot of its energy when it impacted the water, and she deflected it easily. With the water impact lessening its force, the spear hardly moved her. He created a fourth Mana Spear, and felt a ping! in his soul.

His newest spear appeared a fraction of a second faster than usual. It felt a little different, and visually he saw differences as well. The spear was a more streamlined, less misshapen. He added in Force mana, and it speared a perfect line into the water; the spear itself seemed to have more integrity too. It crashed against the Templar archer's bracers and visibly shoved her several inches. He had a suspicion he knew what'd just upgraded. How long have they been underwater, twenty, maybe thirty seconds?

And this was icy magic water, water they were having to deflect and fight through. He was starting to wonder how long they could hold their breath without passing out when he heard the sound, saw a dark-blue Force mana signature— CRACK! His Mana Shield held, which spoke to the sheer suppressive ability of that icy water. But a second CRACK! moments later, and the shield shattered, and the Templar warrior was gasping for air.

It seemed he'd taken off his helmet and some armor on his upper arms, likely a deliberate choice he'd made underwater, but his chestpiece was still there. Alex sent a Mana Spear right at the back of his head. If Alex had an arrow in his side, hadn't breathed for thirty seconds, and had just exerted himself on two massive swings through icy water, this would've driven right into his skull. But the Templar warrior showed, once more, he was some kind of mutant; he turned and blocked it, if barely, with a bracer.

The force of it helped push the warrior onto the ice float. It felt like the chance was slipping through his fingers. Sunlight slicked off of steel in the water, catching his eye— A second Templar broke the surface, and he was a fraction of a second too slow to stop her. His try at the Templar warrior had sacrificed the chance. He sent a Mana Spear after her, but it was chasing where she'd been a split-second before.

The Templar archer was on an ice float one instant; the next she'd leaped high off the ice, drawing her bow, arm lighting up with Pure mana. Her face was expressionless, and her eyes were very cold. Her shadow stretched over the shattered ice. The sun was directly overhead, beaming, and in the Alex could hardly see her. A line of Pure mana slashed through the air. It wasn't at Alex, but at the man who'd put an arrow in her brother. Archer-guy leaped, which was why the arrow went through his belly and not his heart.

He cried out as he fell. Very calmly the Templar archer drew a second arrow, arm lighting up once more, and fired it. The arrow went through Archer-guy's skull. Blood; his body hit the ice, and vanished into virtual bits. Fuck. Somehow Alex knew, looking at her expression, it wasn't some act of vengeance for hitting her brother. It was a very logical decision; she was removing the ranged element. The Templar warrior was on his feet—he'd reached the shore. He ripped the arrow out of his side, wincing slightly.

He was grinning, almost exhilarated. The chance's finished, Alex realized. Like that. The Templar archer turned her gaze on Alex. She'd seemed curious before, hesitant, in a polite way, at times, even amused. It was like all the humor had drained out of her in the ice. She reached for her quiver, then realized she was out of arrows. They were floating in the water. She drew her daggers instead. She stalked toward Alex like a huntress after difficult prey. The Templar warrior circled the ice from the other side.

Alex took a few steps back, trying to keep the two of them in his field of view. They were all soaking wet, and their weapons all gleamed under the 12 o'clock sun.

"Two on one?" said Alex, smiling wanly.

"Against a newbie—an armorless newbie, no less? At least give me a chance." The warrior returned the smile.

"You have a chance," he said.

"You're dangerous, friend." It wasn't only that Alex was without gear. His mana, by this point, was under 20% full. He'd just received, with that last ping!, an across-the-board mana efficiency upgrade; it still wouldn't last him very long. He drew his sword. The Templars attacked. What followed was possibly the best stretch of fighting he'd ever managed. It was helped when, after the first few exchanges, he felt a second ping! —and his body flooded with new strength, new energies, a bit of new mana.

Almost at the same time, a third ping! He was in flow. His Mana Shields could halt the Templar warrior's smashes; they'd shatter, but they'd stop them. Partially his shields getting stronger, and partially the warrior's injuries, and the sheer time he'd spent in the ice. Similarly—the archer was definitely slower, but Alex was also faster, more precise, especially after the ping! s and the influx of energies.

He wasn't sure if there were still other Templars on the field, but if there were, they only watched; they didn't engage. Maybe they didn't dare. Thirty seconds passed like this. Silent, except for the sounds of the duel. Two world class talents engaging a single, unarmored warrior. SCHWING! Blood splattered. Alex let out a gasp, eyes widening. A few seconds later— SCRNCH — His entire left arm shattering. SCHLUNK-SCHLUNK— He tilted his head to the sun, breath frosting in the air above him.

CRNCH— Lines of blood-droplets, scattering over the ice. SCHLUNK— A body hit the ice. His eyes were very distant, his lips blue. Words appeared overhead, announcing the conclusion of the match, and the teams were returned to their respective sides.