CHAPTER 52: A BATTLE OF WILL AND POWER

Darius’s every nerve burned with a fire he couldn’t quench. The energy of the battle surged through him like a storm, his mind working at a pace that far exceeded his body’s ability to keep up. Lucien, now undeniably stronger, was a force in and of itself. The Eye of Dominion’s power was everywhere. The air vibrated with its weight.

Darius darted to the left, his footwork flawless. He phased, using his ability to become intangible, moving like a shadow. The ground beneath him shimmered, his body half-fading from view. Lucien, however, didn’t flinch. He simply watched Darius’s movements, his red eye flickering, adjusting.

Before Darius could complete his attack, Lucien moved—a swift flick of his wand, a casual motion like he was swatting a fly. Darius’s arcane bolt veered wildly off course, its magic evaporating before it could make contact.

"Did you really think that would be enough?" Lucien’s voice was calm, almost bored, as if it was a simple inconvenience.

Darius gritted his teeth and pushed forward. His body reappeared behind Lucien in an instant, hands already gathering arcane energy. A split-second later, he shot off a cascade of fire lances, each one aimed to overwhelm Lucien’s defenses.

Lucien’s response was as fluid as it was effective. He didn’t dodge. He didn’t block. His eyes flared with power, and with a simple gesture, the fire lances bent mid-air, redirected as though they were nothing more than leaves in the wind. They ricocheted back toward Darius with blinding speed.

The air crackled with energy. Darius had no time to react, his body caught off-guard. He twisted his form, becoming intangible once more, allowing the fire to pass harmlessly through him. But he knew that Lucien was always one step ahead. There was no trickery that would work. No illusion or misdirection that could fool him.

Darius shifted, his thoughts racing. The Eye of Dominion could bend magic, alter its course, and even see the underlying threads that shaped spells. Darius understood now that this wasn’t just a fight for survival—it was a battle of knowledge, wits, and magic.

His pulse quickened. His next move had to be different. He needed to push Lucien into a corner.

Lucien’s voice rang out again, smooth and untroubled. "You’re still trying to fight me like you did earlier. You’ve failed every time. Just give up, Darius. You can’t win this."

The words were disarming. Lucien’s tone wasn’t taunting, it wasn’t harsh—it was simply the voice of someone who knew the outcome.

Darius’s breath caught in his chest, his magic still swirling. He didn’t have the luxury of giving up. His promise to himself, to his academy, to his family—it was all on the line. With one deep breath, he spoke, his voice low but firm.

"I won’t surrender, Lucien. Not when I’ve come this far. I promised to push forward, no matter the odds."

Lucien’s expression softened for a brief moment. There was respect there, an understanding. But it was fleeting. In the next heartbeat, Lucien’s gaze hardened, and the red of his eye burned brighter. The air itself seemed to hold its breath.

"As you wish," Lucien said softly, almost like a whisper. "Then I’ll finish this."

The atmosphere in the arena shifted, the weight of the battle bearing down on both combatants. Darius could feel it now—the hum of his mana as it surged, the sweat on his brow. Lucien was far too calm, too controlled, and Darius’s chest tightened.

Then, it happened.

A sharp, burning pain suddenly seared through Darius’s chest. It was as though something was pressing against his ribs from within, a raw, fiery agony that made his breath hitch. His hand flew to his chest instinctively, fingers brushing against the cool metal of the emblem his brother had given him earlier.

It was a strange, star-shaped emblem, its design smooth and intricate. At the time, it seemed like an odd gift—a mere trinket—but now, as his body screamed in pain, Darius’s mind raced. His brother’s voice echoed in his mind, "Use it to call for me when you’re in danger."

Danger.

He felt it now, the suffocating weight of it all. His brother had always been reckless. But this was too much. In his panic, his hand shot out to grab the emblem, but as his fingers touched it, a sudden surge of energy pulsed from the trinket.

Darius’s eyes widened.

The emblem pulsed, shifting shape, bending and warping as if it had a life of its own. The star twisted, its light flashing brighter and brighter until it practically burned through the air. And then, just as quickly, it pulled Darius’s mana toward it—like a vortex sucking in everything around it. His mana spiraled toward the emblem, yanking at his very core.

Darius’s breath hitched, and he stumbled back, eyes wide in disbelief. This was not normal.

Lucien’s eyes flicked to the star, his red gaze narrowing. "That’s weird..." he muttered, as if he couldn’t quite place the power he felt emanating from it.

The star, now fully formed, began to spin wildly, its energy building at an exponential rate. The air hummed with raw, unbridled force. Darius didn’t have time to think. The power that radiated from the star was uncontrollable, and before he could react, it shot out toward Lucien like a comet, a streak of light that blazed across the arena.

Lucien barely had a moment to react. His eyes widened as the star struck him, the force of the impact throwing him backward. His body slammed into the ground with an earth-shaking crack, a wave of power rippling outward. The arena floor fractured where he landed, and the crowd’s collective breath was held in a stunned silence.

Darius stood there, breathless, watching as Lucien lay crumpled on the ground. But the silence was short-lived. Lucien’s figure shifted, slowly rising, though his posture was slightly unsteady. He shook his head, blinking as if clearing away the haze of the impact.

His eyes, still glowing red, now seemed even more intense—he was no longer just reacting, he was studying, calculating. And as Lucien looked up at Darius, his lips curled into a small, almost amused smile.

"Well, that certainly hurt," Lucien said, voice strained but still carrying that same quiet confidence. He wiped a trickle of blood from his lip and met Darius’s gaze with something deeper in his eyes—a challenge, an unspoken understanding that this was far from over.

Darius felt a chill run through his spine, despite the heat of the battle. Lucien was standing now, his posture stronger than ever, a flicker of something darker in his red eye. He had been hit hard, but it hadn’t been enough.

"Let’s see if you can do it again," Lucien’s voice was calm, but the weight of the words made Darius’s heart race. The fight was far from over.

Darius stood tall, hands trembling slightly as he clutched the star emblem. It pulsed faintly in his palm, as if it were alive, drawing on his energy, draining him in ways he didn’t fully understand. The sensation made his chest tighten, but he ignored it. He knew he couldn’t afford to let it dictate the outcome of this fight. Lucien had been knocked back by the star’s strike, but there was no telling how much longer he could stay down.

Darius took a slow, steady breath. His mind raced—he had only one option left. Lucien could read mana flows. The Eye of Dominion was an unshakable advantage. So, Darius had to throw him off balance.

With a sharp flick of his wrist, Darius unleashed his Abomination Magic. His body split into multiple clones, each one a perfect replica of him, each one acting independently. It was the only way to fight Lucien on even terms. The clones darted in all directions, each one moving with the same speed, the same intensity as the real Darius, creating a dizzying array of targets.

The arena swirled with chaotic movement as the clones scattered. Some went high, leaping across the platform with acrobatic grace, while others rushed along the ground, weaving through the dust and debris from their earlier battles. Each one seemed to press Lucien from a different angle, testing his defenses, forcing him to react.

Lucien’s eyes narrowed, his red gaze flicking from clone to clone, trying to read the flow of mana. He was calculating, too calm. Darius could feel it—Lucien was not just fighting him, he was studying him, analyzing every move, every shift in the energy around them.

But Darius was banking on one thing. Lucien’s focus would have to be divided. With that, Darius slipped his brother’s emblem into one of the clones, a subtle act, a hidden gamble.

One clone broke off from the others, its movements erratic and distracting. Lucien’s eyes locked onto it immediately. The clone was weak, vulnerable, and Lucien saw it as the real Darius.

With a quick motion, Lucien raised his finger and fired—a crackling shot of energy shot out from his finger, a precise strike aimed at what he believed to be Darius’s true body. The clone exploded in a burst of magical energy, scattering in a thousand pieces.

Lucien’s brow furrowed, but his smile returned. He had anticipated this. He was ready for it. But as the smoke cleared, something caught his attention—a slight flicker of mana. Not from the destroyed clone, but from the aftermath.

Lucien’s red eye flickered, catching the faintest hint of something hidden within the explosion’s chaos. His gaze shot downward to the remnants of the clone’s body, and his eyes narrowed. He knew what he was looking for now.

He had been tricked.

Darius’s real body, hidden in plain sight, surged forward from the shadows. Lucien’s own calculations had given him the opening he needed.

The real Darius launched himself forward with a burst of magic, fire swirling around his fists, and earth shifting beneath his feet. He moved in close, closing the distance with blinding speed. Fire magic laced through his strikes, each punch and kick infused with heat, enough to scorch the air around him. At the same time, Darius used his Abomination Magic to send his clones in different directions, further confusing Lucien and keeping him off-balance.

The first strike hit Lucien square in the chest, sending him skidding back, the air crackling with the force of the impact. Darius didn’t stop. Another punch, this time infused with the power of the earth, sent Lucien tumbling backward, his footing slipping beneath him. Lucien’s eyes widened in shock, a flicker of surprise lighting in them for the briefest of moments.

Darius pressed the attack, his clones coordinating with him, each one adding to the barrage of magic. Fire lances, bursts of wind, and shadowed illusions all surged toward Lucien from every angle. The sheer intensity of the assault was enough to force even someone like Lucien to stumble.

Lucien, however, was quick to recover. His body twisted and shifted, his mana rippling through the air as he adjusted. He gritted his teeth, but there was no doubt in his eyes now—this wasn’t the same Darius he had been fighting at the start. This was someone who was pushing his limits, refusing to be outmatched.

With a roar of frustration, Lucien’s red eye flared, his power rising to an even higher level. He moved with the speed of a storm, deflecting blows with the precision of someone who had mastered the battlefield. Every move was calculated, every dodge purposeful.

But Darius wasn’t done yet. His clones scattered once more, adding to the chaos, pulling Lucien’s focus in multiple directions. Darius’s real body, now imbued with a combination of fire, earth, and illusion magic, closed in on Lucien’s side, catching him off guard. Lucien wasn’t expecting the shift in momentum, the overwhelming assault of multiple elements.

The blow landed—another strike to Lucien’s ribs, sending him to one knee. The force of it pushed Lucien back, winded and briefly rattled. His Eye of Dominion flickered in intensity, wavering as if even it were struggling to keep up with Darius’s assault.

But Lucien wasn’t finished. His expression turned grim, but there was no fear in his eyes. He wiped a trickle of blood from his lip and looked up at Darius, his red eye gleaming with an unsettling intensity.

"You’re stronger than I gave you credit for," Lucien said, his voice low but full of respect. "But it’s not enough."

With a snap of his fingers, the Eye of Dominion flared once more. Lucien’s gaze locked onto Darius, and the temperature in the air shifted, growing colder. Lucien’s power surged outward, an invisible force that seemed to freeze the very fabric of Darius’s magic.

In an instant, Darius’s movements slowed, his body feeling as if it were encased in ice. His clones faltered, their movements sluggish and disjointed. His magic, the very essence of his being, began to solidify—frozen in place by Lucien’s control.

Darius’s eyes widened in horror as he tried to fight back. His mana, his very essence, was being locked down. It wasn’t just his body that was paralyzed—it was everything he was. His magic, once flowing freely, was now trapped, unable to move.

"Stop fighting," Lucien’s voice was cold, devoid of mercy. "You’re mine now."

Darius’s body struggled, but it was useless. His muscles locked in place, his mana solidified, and he could do nothing but watch as Lucien stepped forward, a chilling calm in his every movement.

Lucien raised his wand once more, his red eye burning with power. With a final, decisive gesture, he unleashed a surge of pure mana that crashed into Darius with enough force to send him flying across the arena. His body contorted with the force of the impact, crashing into the ground with a violent tremor.

The arena was silent for a moment, the sounds of the battle fading into a distant hum. Darius lay there, gasping for air, his body broken and bruised. Every inch of him screamed in pain, but there was no fight left in him. He tried to move, tried to summon his magic, but his body refused to respond.

As his vision blurred and faded, Darius heard a voice echo through the haze of his consciousness, booming over the loudspeakers.

"And with that, we have our victor—Lucien Ashford!"