Killian blurred across the yard with his spear held firmly in front, charging towards Rowan.

  In a straight line, it was fair to say that the Silver-rank was faster than the Wyrmlings. His legs ate away the distance between them, a cheer going out through the crowd.

  Rowan’s heartbeat quickened, the thrill coursing through his veins. It was quickly followed by his mana as well, and less than a second later, a tendril of flame burst out of his back.

  Killian was already halfway across the yard, his eyes narrowing, a focused expression on his face.

  He’d probably expected a [Firebolt], but that wouldn’t have done much. His Aura allowed him to interact with Rowan’s spells directly. And even without that, Killian could simply dodge out of the way.

  Fighting from range wasn’t how he’d win this fight. Rowan needed to hamper his opponent’s movements, and [Burning Whip] was perfect for the job.

  Another one appeared, coming to Rowan with an ease that left him feeling giddy.

  There was almost no strain in keeping the two manifestations active, and he hadn’t even used [Iron Will] yet.

  Right as Killian got into range, Rowan swiped down with both of the whips, forming an X.

  A green glow appeared on his opponent's spear, his Aura finally active.

  With a burst of speed, Killian dodged to the right. His weapon slashed out, deflecting the closest tendril and ducking under the other.

  Rowan started moving. He made use of every single point of Dexterity he had, trying to keep his distance from the Silver-rank coming straight at him. His whips thrashed through the air, slowing Killian down just enough for him to add another whip.

  At three, he started feeling a slight strain.

  His mind was being pulled in multiple directions, and even though the Intents were the same for all three, it was no easy feat.

  Killian’s spear blurred as it deflected each of Rowan’s strikes. At the moment, they were about equally matched. Neither of them gaining—or losing—any ground. The soft green glow covering his spear rose in intensity, his opponent’s speed ramping up.

  Rowan took a step back, an excited smile splitting his face.

  [Iron Will] flared, the strain dropping enough for him to get a cast in. Only this time, it wasn’t another whip.

  Rowan raised his staff, pulling at the Wind mana filling his Core and guiding it to his arm. A [Gust] erupted from the gnarled tip, shooting out towards Killian at a frightening speed.

  The staff made casting Wind magic faster, and more efficient. Two things that Rowan definitely needed. In a fight like this, every second counted.

  Rowan’s goal was to keep Killian back long enough for him to get more [Burning Whip]’s up. His previous best had been four, but he had a feeling that number was a bit lower than what he was currently capable of.

  Killian’s eyes widened in surprise as the [Gust] flew towards him. He threw himself out of the way, barely managing to deflect a tendril with the butt of his spear.

  Rowan used the moment of reprieve his spell bought him to cast another [Burning Whip], his momentum growing.

  The yard was filled with the cheers of adventurers, their voices growing louder with each passing second. A duel between a mage and a Silver-rank wasn’t a common occurrence. Most of the ones that happened were between two Iron-ranks, so this was like a show to the assembled adventurers. One they were certainly enjoying.

  Rowan’s gaze flickered to where Quinea sat, but his eyes weren’t drawn to the Guildmistress. Instead, they focused on the robed man sitting next to her.

  Tremil, the mage advisor of Litwick was watching him closely, his brows furrowed in thought. Few people here knew how impressive Rowan’s showing truly was, but the only Yellow-Core mage in the city was definitely one of them.

  Killian grunted in effort as the four whips snaked through the air, lashing at him with furious intensity. His Aura ramped up once more, giving him the boost in speed he needed to escape Rowan’s ensnaring net.

  [Spinning Guard] activated and his spear flashed, moving faster than Rowan could follow. Each movement seemed to predict where his whips would be, allowing Killian to close the distance once more.

  Up till now, he’d mostly relied on his stats and the mastery he had over his weapon. That alone had been enough to contend with four of Rowan’s spells—an impressive feat in its own right—but it seemed that was about to change.

  Quinea hadn’t been lying when she said he was skilled, and the Silver-rank was proving himself a dangerous opponent.

  He crouched low, dodging a sideways sweep and nudging another whip out of the way with his Aura-covered spear. In the same motion, Killian threw himself forward, jumping in between another two of Rowan’s attacks.

  The crowd roared at the display of agility, and Rowan was forced to take a few steps back.

  Well, if he’s using skills, it’s probably time I do too.

  Rowan pushed [Iron Will] even further.

  His mind cleared, and all thoughts but the present faded to the background. The slight hesitation he felt shifted into a calm, steadfast confidence, his smile widening.

  A fifth tendril appeared, and when that wasn’t enough to keep Killian at bay, it was quickly followed by another. Even with six active spells and the occasional [Gust], Rowan still felt like he wasn’t at his limit.

  He was certainly close, but he wasn’t there yet.

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  Killian tried to keep up with Rowan’s attacks, utilizing his Aura in tandem with his skills to become a whirlwind of steel and fury, matching Rowan’s own intensity. His spear seemed to bend and twist with each one of his strikes, sweat dripping down his brow from the effort.

  His confident smirk was nowhere to be seen, instead replaced by a focused, determined expression.

  From the corner of his eye, Rowan could see the expressions of the adventurers sitting closest to them. And while there was certainly excitement in them, there was also more than a bit of fear.

  I mean, understandable, he thought, sending out another [Gust].

  Now, with six flaming tendrils circling him like long, lashing limbs, he looked more like a monster than a man. He could have probably ended this with a single [Fireball], but neither of them was going for killing blows. Their attacks were designed to burn and wound, not maim.

  A [Gust] clipped Killian’s shoulder, pushing him slightly off balance. His eyes widened in alarm as the movement skill he’d been utilizing faltered, leaving him in a very precarious situation.

  Rowan pounced, four of his whips slashing out towards him.

  “[Forceful Retreat]!” Killian bellowed, using his stumble to bend his knee, push off the ground, and throw himself backward. Two tendrils missed him by a hair’s breadth as he rolled back to his feet and out of range.

  “Whoa,” he laughed, dusting off his clothes. “You weren’t kidding when you said you were fine.”

  Rowan started walking closer. “Stalling, really?”

  Killian tsked, resetting his stance. He bent his knees and got closer to the ground, looking for an opportunity to pounce.

  Rowan's smile widened. This fight was proving much more enjoyable than he’d first expected. Killian’s team might have been thuggish, but he himself was a competent adventurer, and fighting against one of those wasn’t something he often got to do. It would be a shame to waste it.

  “Come on,” Rowan taunted. “You won’t get your five hundred gold just standing around.”

  Killian’s expression was a mix of confidence and focus, and Rowan could admit it put him a little on edge.

  If he had to guess, Killian had fought a mage before, and his opponent didn’t seem like the type of person not to learn from a loss. Meaning that whatever he had planned, Rowan needed to take it seriously.

  The green glow coming from the spear shifted, moving down to Killian’s legs and covering them up to his knees. It was obviously a movement skill of some kind, and Rowan didn’t plan on being taken off guard.

  Four of his whips coiled around each other, creating a single spell as thick as a tree trunk. He pointed the tip at Killian, flaring [Iron Will] to keep his focus steady.

  Then, from one moment to the next, Killian moved. His body was a blur as the tip of his spear impacted Rowan’s defenses. The force of the clash was jarring. Rowan’s eyes widened in surprise, adrenaline pumping through his veins.

  It was like someone had poured a bucket of cold water on his head, and the only thing that allowed him to react was having [Iron Will] active.

  The crowd cheered, their fight slowly reaching a crescendo.

  Killian’s spear impacted Rowan’s spells with such force that his Intent faltered, dissipating two of his spells before Rowan even realized what was happening.

  Gritting his teeth, he jumped back, dragging his remaining whips to the front.

  But Killian had expected that. His legs still empowered by the Aura of Haste, he dodged to the side. Rowan’s head swung around, trying to follow his movements.

  Another [Gust] bought him some time. He had enough Wind mana for another two, but after that, Rowan would need to find another way to maintain his distance.

  The distance allowed him to recast one of his whips, but before he could do more Killian’s spear flashed.

  “[Piercing Thrust]!” he shouted, quickly followed it up with an empowered lunge.

  Only this time, Rowan wasn’t quick enough to defend.

  His mind raced as the spear tip raced towards his side. [Iron Will] flared, and for the first time since Rowan had gotten the skill, he felt it strain. The moment seemed to stretch, a dozen plans flashing across his mind, only to be discarded in favor of what he knew he had to do.

  His coat was enchanted and should be able to fend off the attack, but that was a card Rowan didn’t want to play. That meant he had to reveal his ring—though not the one Killian was familiar with.

  He moved his whips away from the rushing Silver-rank, giving him a straight line to his target. It was an obvious trap, but Killian had no choice but to jump headfirst into it. If he wanted to win, he needed to get close, and this was the perfect opportunity.

  Their eyes locked. Rowan could see a challenge in his gaze, the way his body tensed, preparing for a counterattack.

  Rowan grinned in response.

  If he mistimed this, the fight would be over. Killian landing a blow would count as a win, seeing as if this was a real fight, he wouldn’t have been aiming for his side.

  But Rowan wasn’t going to make it easy for him.

  He’d come into this duel hoping to show off his skills to the assembled adventurers. Winning wasn’t required to accomplish that, but it sure would help. Not to mention he wouldn’t hear the end of it from the Grove if he lost.

  The upcoming raid would consist of most of the fighting power Litwick had to offer, from adventures at low Iron to High Silver. Then having confidence in him—and by extension his team—was a must if Rowan wanted to have a say in their assignment.

  Having the Grove fighting lesser goblins just because they didn’t have Auras of their own would have been an absolute waste of their talents. Something he would make sure didn’t happen.

  Killian moved faster than Rowan could follow, the green glow covering his legs propelling him forward at a breakneck speed. But the problem with his approach was that it was predictable. Moving this quickly, Killian couldn’t turn. His trajectory was set, and that made him an easy target.

  He was gambling on Rowan not being able to get a defensive cast off in time, which, to his credit, wasn’t a wrong assumption. [Firebolt] was his quickest spell, but that wouldn’t do much in this situation.

  Right as Killian stepped into range, the tip of his spear blurring towards Rowan, he sent a small tendril of mana into his ring.

  The enchantment flared to life, a [Wind Barrier] appearing in front of him.

  It wasn’t enough to fully negate Killian’s empowered thrust, and his opponent took that as a challenge. Instead of retreating after his attack failed he continued pushing forward, trying to breach through Rowan’s defenses.

  Got you.

  It took Killian barely a second to get through. But in a fight like this, that was plenty of time.

  The two whips Rowan had been hiding behind his back grew in length, manifesting fully.

  Even with [Iron Will] active and pushed to its limit, Rowan knew he wouldn’t be able to keep it up for long. Having this many congruent manifestations was draining both on his mind, and his reserves. But he wouldn’t need to. This fight was as good as over.

  Killian’s eyes widened in surprise as the trap closed. The two new tendrils wrapped around the shaft of his spear, holding it in place while the other six slashed through the air.

  Without hesitation, Killian let go of his weapon and threw himself back. He managed to dodge Rowan’s strike by the skin of his teeth, but with the loss of his spear, the fight was done.

  Rowan let his spells dissipate, his breathing ragged and sweat he didn’t notice until now dripping down his brow. His reserves were almost fully gone, with barely a tenth of his mana remaining. But no one else needed to know that.

  For a heartbeat, there was silence. Then the crowd erupted into cheers.

  A smile tugged at Rowan’s lips as he slammed the butt of his newly acquired spear into the ground.

  He could see the Grove celebrating off to the side, with Omi and Silvia shouting excitedly while Annie and Nemir tried to calm them down.

  Rowan’s gaze moved across the assembled Silver-ranks, noting their reactions. Some looked thoughtful, while others looked like they’d expected this outcome. But there was one person’s whose reaction interested him the most.

  Rowan locked eyes with the mage advisor of Litwick, and what he saw there made his heart race in excitement.

  Well, he certainly looks impressed, alright.

  With his performance here today, Rowan had no doubt that the Crimson Grove would have their pick of assignments.