Chapter 7 - Quarrel

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Lux pierced the throat of a bandit with a quick thrust. Valentine wielded the thin blade with skill. His movements were quick and precise rather than powerful, focusing on counterattacks rather than an all-out offense.

Percival was charging through the enemy in front of him, clearing the way to the pesky mage. His shield was raised, and his spear was always poised to strike. He was a great and honorable warrior. Perhaps a little too naive, but Valentine honestly liked that about him.

They almost made it up the hill, and Valentine, being impatient as usual, wanted to get there faster. A pillar of earth and stone erupted from the ground below him, launching himself into the air above the fighting. With a grin on his face, he quickly closed the distance between himself and the other mage.

As he got closer, he got a good look under his opponent's hooded cloak. He was thin and had long black hair. His eyes were dark green, like the needles of a pine tree.

When Valentine approached the ground, he shot out a powerful burst of wind to slow his descent. The impact of the wind nearly threw his enemy off of his feet. The hood he was wearing was blown off his head, revealing long, sharp ears. Ears that matched Valentine's. He, too, was descended from the fae. It was probably why his raven eye could see more magical power coming off him than an ordinary mage.

But Val didn't care about all that. He only cared about accomplishing his mission.

He pointed his finger at the black haired mage, and ice started to form around his feet. But the mage was quick. A small burst of flame melted the ice.

"Aren't you clever." Valentine praised him before firing a blast of magic. The multi colored attack was dispersed when it struck a barrier formed of hexagonal shapes.

"I've never had a duel quite like this." Valentine said. His curiosity was getting the better of him, and Percival and the soldiers had everything handled. "What's your name."

The other mage looked appalled, clearly never having expected the blond to ask such a question.

"Arkon." He answered with some hesitancy.

"Good to know." Valentine prepared for battle once more, raising his sword. He could overwhelm him with magic, but wouldn't it just be easier to close the distance? Val settled for doing both.

He dashed forward, shooting off magic spells as distractions.

Arkon replied in kind, using barriers to block the attacks and give him time to create some distance. But the panicked look in his eyes showed that he was unprepared for this onslaught. The hexagonal pattern began to crack.

Valentine knew he would win. Compared to Arkon, he had an overwhelming magic power that was focused on offense. It was clear that Arkon knew this as well. Whenever he had the chance to counterattack, Val would easily dodge it.

The combined efforts of clairvoyance and his raven eye. made fighting easier. He could see through both magic and technique.

The distance had been closed, and his sword nearly met its mark. Arkon extended his hand and used a strong blast of air to send launch himself backward. But he wasn't unscathed. Lux did draw blood, and the evidence was the two fingers that were now on the ground.

The pinky and ring fingers on his left hand had been cut off. The black haired mage clutched at his injured hand and glared at Valentine with clenched teeth.

I suppose no one likes to lose, Valentine thought.

"Surrender and live." He warned, "Someone with talent shouldn't be associated with tyrants anyway."

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