Sylian regained hisposure and focused on the fight instead of trying to solve mysteries. The guy was well-trained, that much Damian had to give it to him.
Canceling his aura de, he began chanting again. His sword was just an ordinary one, and had an enchanted bracelet as one allowed magic tool for the trial that seemed to enhance his mana control focus, functioning much like a mage''s staff.
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As Sylian finallypleted his chant, he unleashed an advanced spell: Fire Arrows. Numerous fiery projectiles appeared - moving quickly in the air. A few of which he controlled personally using his mana threads. The effort dipped his mana reserves below 80%.
Before the arrows could close in, however, Damian canceled his spell. The fiery arrows dissipated into nothingness, leaving no trace behind except the caster''s confused and frustrated expressions.
Then came Water des—canceled.
ck Vines again—canceled.
Finally, a twisting tornado of mes—a powerful and time-consuming spell, it took him ages to chant - simr to one prince Maelor had used during the first tests. And yet, once more, Damian canceled it with ease.
The crowd murmured in astonishment. Even the professors exchanged puzzled nces. Among them, only Bloodedge appeared unshaken. His expression remained serious, his sharp eyes following Damian''s every movement. He hadn''t moved an inch since the fight began though.
Atst, when the heir of Darkwood was utterly frustrated and baffled, he reignited his aura de and charged straight at Damian—a simple and direct approach.
Damian let hime.
The guy was agonizingly slow.
Damian didn''t need flourishes or wasted effort—he had twice the strength and speedpared to him - he was all about efficiency and precision. As Sylian lunged at him, his hand shot out, fast as a striking viper, mping around the young heir''s throat with a grip that stopped him cold. A twist of his wrist, and Sylian''s sword was wrenched from his grasp, ttering uselessly to the ground. After a minute of silent ring-Damian, with a sharp, controlled motion, flung him aside-sending him sprawling across the dirty stone tform.
Rising unsteadily, Sylian''s face was a mask of disbelief, his pride battered as much as his body. He snarled, picking up and reigniting his aura de with a surge of frustrated defiance. The de burned bright green, but Damian barely reacted. There was not much technique in it just in anger, not trained as good after all.
As Sylian charged again, Damian chanted a few words, adding extra details with his hands to the runic circle that was already hovering around him, pre-drawn and ready - Damian reshaped it anyway. Moments before Sylian''s de could reach him, Damian activated the spell.
Suddenly, the friction beneath Sylian''s feet vanished. His vision narrowed as he realized he was no longer on the ground. He was flying?
Damian had cast a Gravity Reversal spell. Using his ID.
The gathered audience gasped as Sylian began ascending toward the barrier above the tform. There was a barrier so he should be fine. The heir of Darkwood collided with the golden, semi-transparent barrier, his face stered against it as his sword slipped from his grasp, falling back toward the ground.
Before the weapon could hit the stone, Damian caught it.
Then he just stared at the de, a strange muffled silence enveloping him. He.. couldn''t decide what to do now.. Shouldn''t the two Highsword guys call it over..? They too were busy staring up though.
Then Damian heard it—a voice, cold and unfamiliar though eerily simr to his own, echoing in his mind.
''What else? Kill him now..''@@novelbin@@
Without thinking, Damian drew a vine spell rune and released the gravity spell. Sylian plummeted toward the ground. But midway through, Damian activated his vines to catch him, pulling him close and holding Sylian''s own sword to his head.
The boy screamed and begged in a heart wrenching broken voice.
Suddenly the world seemed to snap back into focus for Damian. The crowd''s gasps, the rustle of the wind—everything came rushing back.
Damian stared at his own hands in disbelief.
''What the hell was that? Why did I do that?''
Shaking, he canceled the vine spell and lowered the de, but before he could release Sylian fully, Bloodedge intervened.
With one hand, Bloodedge grabbed Damian''s outstretched arm. With the other, he stopped Sylian''s momentum effortlessly, without any magic.
The sword in Damian''s hand ttered to the ground, the sound echoing across the arena. Too loud, it was too loud.
Everyone had seen it.
He was.. He was prepared to kill him.
He didn''t resist Bloodedge''s grip. Instead, his knees buckled, and he copsed on the stony arena.
''Hmnphh.. Weakling..'' a voice sneered in his mind, but this time, Damian realized—it wasn''t his own thought.
''Who? Who are you? Who the f*ck are you..? How the hell are you in my head?'' he screamed internally, but of course no response came.
Was someone really there? Or was he losing his mind?
"Leave," Bloodedge ordered coldly, releasing Damian''s arm. "Wait in my office."
Damian nodded numbly as the healer rushed in to tend to Sylian. He couldn''t recall how he left the stage or how the guards escorted him. Only when Sam''s cold hand touched his face did he regain some sense of reality.
He was surrounded by his friends in Bloodedge''s office. They murmured worriedly, exchanging anxious nces.
Seeing him finally respond, Einar spoke cautiously.
"Maximus… What happened? Were you really…" She trailed off, but everyone in the room understood what she meant.
Sam, Evrin, and Reize looked at him, their concern palpable. Even his squires and Lucian waited outside, along with the two guards-he sensed.
"I… I don''t know," Damian confessed truthfully. "I heard voices in my head."
Without hesitation, he took one of his runic bracelets from Sam, pulled out a crown adorned with glowing green, yellow, and blue gradient runes, and handed it to Evrin.
"It has a spell that summons hundreds of vines. Bind me," Damian said, his breath uneven.
Evrin and the others stared at him, dumbfounded.
"What?!" they echoed in unison.