CHAPTER 848: BY SALT, BY STONE

Across the duel venue, Adam watched Dorian cross his arms over his chest. The smirk playing on the teenager’s face, his laid-back posture with his head slightly tilted to the right, not so subtly making his gaze appear to come from above, as if he were giving something inferior the pleasure of being gazed upon; they made it painfully clear to anyone watching that Dorian didn’t see him as an adversary worth his time.

The other students mirrored Dorian’s contempt. Victory was on their side. All that was left was to watch how their strongest duelist would humiliate the fool who dared challenge them.

The flutter of Astride’s dark robes cut his observation short. She walked between him and Dorian, raising her palm overhead. "Whoever steps out of the venue, stays down for over three seconds, or gives up, loses. I won’t allow lethal spells, curses, or any form of magically permanent debilitation. Understood?"

Adam chuckled at her transparent intention. "So he can cripple me as long as it’s not with magic."

"We have healers. They’re a bit busy right now, but they’ll take care of you in a couple of days. No longer than a week at worst." She let out a sharp laugh that sliced through the small talk. "Ready?"

"Always." Dorian drew his wand, deep-blue mana swirling through the lines carved like conduits.

Archmage, Adam noted as he yawned with exaggerated indifference and waved his hand dismissively.

The students erupted into cheers for Dorian or insults for Adam. Among them, Elliot gripped Desmond’s robe, his tight fist trembling around the fabric. "Why is he not drawing his wand?"

"Does he even have one? If he does, I’ve never seen it. Relax, Elliot." Desmond patted the boy’s shoulder. But his gaze never left Adam. "I know more than anyone else how strong Dorian is. He beat me up last year and the year before that. But Adam..." He shook his head. "I don’t believe he’ll lose."

"I know Adam uses blasting spells. I’ve seen them in Diane’s class!" Elliot rebutted, his fist tightening a little more. "But Astride will disqualify him if he uses them. Too dangerous for Dorian, even for us watching. W-What else can he do?"

"Focus on him. You’ll see."

With Desmond’s barely reassuring words, Elliot scrutinised Astrid’s descending hand.

"Begin!"

As soon as the words fell, Dorian’s mana surged. Tidal waves erupted from the teenager’s wand. They took up his entire side of the venue, obscuring his frame from Adam’s view and threatening to wash him out. A powerful spell, Adam judged, but far too simplistic compared to what an archmage could do.

He curled his fingers. The ground in front of his feet rose into a reef-shaped wall with the movement. The water roared against its rugged surface, sending tremors through the stones. But the irregular surface forced the reluctant waves aside. And through it all, he heard Dorian speak.

A diversion. Of course. Not to cast a spell, but for a summoning ritual. That was what he wanted to witness. His eyes narrowed through a peephole he formed in the reef, past the waves, and on Dorian’s blurry form. He saw mana dance in unfamiliar patterns, as if drawing a complex circle around the teenager before vanishing to some faraway place.

And through it all, Dorian chanted with fanatical fervor.

"Depth-born Monarch, forged in fire and tide, Abyrath, breaker of shores and silencer of storms. Hear me! I call you from the rift where light has never dwelled. From the blackened womb of the world’s first breath! Rise now, Drowned Colossus! Let your steps quake the land as they once stirred the sea! May your molten veins burn through mortal soil, and your roar drown the cries of kings and beasts alike."

"By salt, by stone, by the pressure that crushes all, I unseal your name, I summon your wrath, walk beside me, Abyrath, until the tides reclaim the earth!"

The waves faded, and a solemn silence consumed the students’ voices as the summoning circle turned blinding.

From it, a titanic, amphibious creature forged of coral, volcanic stone, and living sinew materialised. Its body glowed with veins of molten blue. Six limb-like fins shifted into clawed legs that met the ground in a cloud of dust. Through the crown of spiralling shells and glowing eyes ringing its skull-like head, it glared at Adam with regal authority.

"Welcome, Abyrath, my companion. Today, we defeat this presumptuous fool. But we do not kill him. He’ll die sooner rather than later with his foul mouth and baseless arrogance." Dorian’s voice awakened the students as Abyrath nodded and moved toward Adam.

They roared about how rare it was to witness Dorian’s strongest summon—a named one—that Adam couldn’t win against these two monsters.

Elliot closed his tear-filled eyes, unwilling to watch the hideous creature pummel his friend, while Dorian bombarded him with spells. This was the invokers’ usual strategy. He had warned Adam, told him that duelling them was useless. Not because exorcists were weaker. Because their purpose had never been to defeat humans, but ghosts and demons and evil creatures.

But even with his eyes closed, he felt Abyrath’s steps reverberate through the ground and smelled the scent of salt, sulfur, and storm they carried.

Desmond snickered beside him. "You’ll miss all the fun."

Before he could understand, he felt fingers lift his brow, prying his eyes open to a spectacle he didn’t want to watch—just as Adam dismissed the reef in a gentle trickle of mana.

His lips curved into a mischievous smirk as the armored titan approached. Pressurised water swirled around two bulging arms like saws, shrill hisses splitting the air.

"Two archmages. A specific ritual, probably using a medium and a pact signed beforehand." His eyes darted to the dissolving summoning circle. "I don’t know how to make that or what to chant, but..."

Abyrath’s descending fist cut through his mutters. It roared like a toppling mountain, blasting air that cracked the ground beneath his feet. Behind it, Dorian hurled water javelins, each waving with its own drill-like stream.

There was no escaping that. But did Adam need to?

He simply tilted his head to expose his neck, as if asking to be struck there. Simultaneously, sky-blue mana threads wove layers of flexible walls around him until they looked like enchanted metal. Diamond-shaped barriers condensed over it, layered again like armored glass.

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AN: No time to edit before reset. I’m late, but... let’s just say I made it in time...