CHAPTER 86: THREE

No spell interference. Just a gesture, she rotated one hand mid-cast, and the bolt warped off-course like the air had folded.

Lucen didn’t swear.

He just flung himself behind a pillar and snapped a [Crater Bloom] underfoot as he passed.

The trap detonated late, just enough to slow the polearm guy’s follow-up.

Not enough to stop him. The man shielded with his arm and burst through the shockwave, dust curling around his boots.

Lucen rose from the crouch and cast [Frost Spire] backward.

The spike launched into the area behind him, not aimed.

A warning.

A control threat.

He was counting steps, not targets.

The older fighter was still circling wide.

Lucen pivoted toward him, just as the man tossed a vial casually into the air.

It burst midair.

No flash.

No smoke.

Just a shimmer, and the pressure around Lucen’s chest locked tight. Not crushing. Just... slowing. Like his blood took half a second longer to obey.

Lucen’s spell delay stretched.

His system pinged, not with an alert, but with a time lag.

[Mana: 118 / 148]

[Delay: +0.4s]

He didn’t have time to curse.

A flicker of light hit the floor in front of him, then jumped. The caster flung a wide-angle surge across the floor that chased his steps, arcing like a whip of live current.

Lucen kicked off the floor and barely cleared the strike.

Then the polearm guy was on him again.

The haft of the weapon came low, Lucen ducked.

Then high, Lucen blocked with both forearms, gritting his teeth.

His system pinged faintly.

[Impact Damage: 9%]

[Mana: 102 / 148]

Lucen lashed out with [Soundlash], the pulse hit hard this time, point-blank, and staggered the spear-wielder back two steps. Just enough to breathe.

"Little sharp for a support class," the girl called.

Lucen fired back, "Little slow for an A-rank."

He heard a snort.

Then the older man closed distance without warning.

Lucen turned just as the guy vanished from his peripheral—

Not teleported.

Just moved.

Too fast.

Lucen caught the edge of a strike across the ribs, blunt, but pressure-packed. Not magic. A skill.

Something that emptied his lungs in one hit.

Lucen dropped to one knee.

He activated Null Reversal without thinking.

It wasn’t a cast.

It was a spike.

His system pulsed.

[Spell Activated: Null Reversal]

[Mana: 86 / 148]

[Trigger: Unknown Skill — Reverse Logic]

The shimmer from the enhancer’s last movement reversed. Literally. The pressure that locked Lucen’s limbs unlocked, then whipped backward, hitting the caster girl instead.

Her eyes flared, startled, as her left leg locked under her like it weighed too much. Her next cast fizzled mid-motion.

Lucen didn’t capitalize.

He couldn’t.

He was still catching his breath.

But he surged left, dodging another strike, and flared [Piercing Flare] toward the wall.

Not at anyone.

Just a rebound vector.

The beam hit the reinforced corner panel and shot back at a tight angle—

Cutting between the two melee fighters like a blade of hot light.

The older one leaned back just in time.

The polearm guy caught the edge across his gauntlet, it sparked, scorched, but didn’t stop him.

Lucen retreated fast.

His boots skidded, mana pulsing sharp and wild underfoot.

They were adapting.

—

Lucen’s boots skidded across the stone again. His coat dragged sideways, soaked through with sweat and the faint crackle of lingering static.

Across the arena, the three fighters were adjusting.

The spear-user rotated his weapon once, switching grip. Defensive now. Testing angles.

The caster had reset behind him, weight on her back foot, still limping from the reversed pressure hit. She didn’t look angry.

She looked interested.

And the enhancer, calm, short-tempered, mouth slightly parted like he was already muttering activation phrases, kept circling wide.

They weren’t attacking.

They were boxing him in.

Lucen had five meters of space and half a second to break it.

He went vertical.

[Ignition Burst] flared beneath his feet, not aimed to hit, just propel. The fire pulse launched him skyward in a crooked arc. It hurt.

That much backdraft without shield seals always did. But it got him off the ground.

Mid-air, he snapped a [Crater Bloom] downward. The delayed glyph flared on the floor as he descended.

He twisted, landed off-center, rough but upright, and the glyph detonated.

The caster misjudged her footing and staggered into the blast radius. The concussive edge clipped her side and spun her off balance.

Lucen snapped a [Shockweave Bolt] immediately.

The arc chased her across the field, she dodged, but not cleanly. The crack hit her shoulder. Sparks burst. She grunted, stumbled.

The polearm guy charged.

Straight through the smoke.

Lucen triggered [Frost Spire] as fast as his fingers could draw.

But the man read it.

He kicked the forming glyph mid-cast, before it could rise, and the ice spike burst sideways, half-formed.

Lucen dropped low again, slid under the blade as it passed overhead with a metallic hum that made his teeth vibrate.

He hit the floor hard, hands burning, mana running hotter than it should.

[Mana: 61 / 148]

Still fine.

Just not forever.

The enhancer threw another vial.

Lucen watched it arc.

Didn’t try to dodge.

Instead, he cast [Soundlash], not toward a target, but up, catching the vial mid-air and detonating it early.

The air pressure snapped. The glass burst harmlessly in place.

He was halfway through his next glyph when the polearm hit him square in the gut.

The haft caught his ribs. It didn’t break them, but Lucen folded anyway, air gone, head ringing.

He dropped.

The enhancer moved to pin him.

Lucen grit his teeth and flared [Piercing Flare] point-blank across the ground, not at the man.

At the floor.

The beam tore a hot line between them.

It didn’t hit.

But it stopped the advance.

Lucen crawled backwards, one hand dragging through ash and sweat, glyphs trailing half-finished across his palm.

He had time for one spell.

Not because of slots.

Because his vision was starting to tunnel.

[Mana: 23 / 148]

He saw the caster flare again.

Lightning gathered, different angle, tighter coil.

’If it hits, I’m done.’

Lucen looked across the floor and felt the air bend.

He saw the enhancer flick his wrist.

The pressure change came again.

The spear-wielder raised his weapon.

Lucen moved.

Not away.

Forward.

He flared [Null Reversal] again.

The pressure wave collapsed backward.

The enhancer’s suppression field ruptured. Not enough to hurt, but it silenced his buff.

At the same time, Lucen shouted across the field.

"To your left."

The caster’s eyes twitched.

For just half a breath, she turned her head.

And Lucen hit her square in the chest with a full-power [Ignition Burst].

She flew backward, rolled once, and didn’t get up immediately.

Not unconscious.

But out.

Two left.

Lucen stood, barely.

His legs burned. His hands twitched.

His system blinked.

[Mana: 5 / 148]

[EXP: Pending]

The polearm wielder twirled his weapon once.

Then lowered it.

Not out of mercy.

But caution.

Lucen smiled. Just a little. Dry. Empty.

"I’m out."

The man didn’t answer.

Varik stepped forward from the edge of the ring.

"Match ends."

No bell. No timer. Just finality.

Lucen dropped to his knees.