After the aggressively overprotected relaxation period, Oriana returned to the balcony. Tyir was waiting for her so that they could watch the other competitors. There were seven others who completed their own battle against the Minotaur. A few had died at the hands of the large creature or had decided that they no longer wished to compete. Those who moved on met with the princess. Oriana got to know a bit about each competitor. Unlike with Donovan, Tyir refused to leave her side. Afterwards, each was shown to a room. A small dining hall was nearby, where they had been provided refreshments and a meal.
After the Princess had met the last of the mages, Celsy joined Oriana once more. The rest of the competition was going to start soon. "I don't like you meeting all these mages," Celsy grumbled.
"I should be able to trust my courtmage, shouldn't I? And be comfortable being with them." Oriana saw no harm in talking to them one-on-one; most of them were pleasant and polite. Thoughts of Donovan were coming a lot more frequently than she would have expected.
"Thank Novada that you were there as well, Prince Tyir," Celsy said.
"I wasn't going to leave the Princess alone again," Tyir said as he patted Oriana's hand before lacing his fingers with hers.
"Thankfully, we only have to deal with one more competition and then this whole thing can be wrapped up," Celsy grumbled. "Have you thought of who you would pick out of those remaining?" she asked curiously.
"Not quite yet, but if any were to have the upper hand, they would win without bloodshed. I don't think I can stomach it anymore." Oriana said.
"You are quite adamant about that, aren't you, Princess? Since this is the second time you've mentioned it," Tyir asked her.
"I know...but it is the only request I have for my courtmage. It would prove to me that there is still compassion in Lanoria and that Medeis is not all about bloodshed and power. I still believe there can be mages who will rise above without slaughtering others to get to the top,"
Celsy brought the Princess into her arms for a swift hug, unaware that their conversation had not been as private as they'd believed. "Your innocent and sweet personality is wasted on those heathens, Oriana!"
"Celsy, they're not heathens," Oriana grumbled, but she didn't push her away.
Donovan, meanwhile, had been snacking on a turkey leg and listening to their conversation. Hearing the princess, he knew he had better continue his non-killing trend if he wanted to beat the others.
"The first guy was unlucky. I should have just punched him out. The minotaur I wanted to take out with style... I was planning on wreaking through the rest of them, kind of showing off." he grumbled to himself. "Though I guess if I want to win this thing, I have to do it the slow and boring way. Too bad... I really was looking forward to killing that cocky elemental mage." Donovan used his speed to quickly zip away before anyone could notice him.
As the sun began to set and the day came to a close, the rest of the competition commenced. The mages were to be pitted against one another once more. To make it tougher, they were given a certain time limit. It was also a tournament-style competition. Each of them would fight in pairs. All of them would be fighting at the same time. Once everyone was done, they would take a day to rest. The competition took place over the course of the next two days. Above them, safely away from the battle, the Princess watched nervously.
The fights were especially brutal as the mages stuck to their ways. Each fight was fought to the death. One after the other, bodies dropped to the ground, or at least what was left of them. Oriana coughed repeatedly throughout the fights, almost becoming ill a number of times from the gore, though she felt she had to watch. Not just to honor those who had come this far, but to see what her courtmage was capable of. However, there was one contestant who did not kill their opponents; Donovan stuck to knocking out his opponents instead.
Tyir noticed that the only battles Oriana looked forward to watching were Donovan's. To obtain a better view, Oriana always got up from her chair and leaned against the balcony. It was truly a pleasure to watch Donovan now that he wasn't holding back, as even the other mages appeared to be impressed by him. Donovan would dance across the battlefield with his amazing speed. He was able to vanish and reappear at will and effortlessly avoid spells directed at him. He often played with his opponents before appearing behind them. Then, with a swift blow to the head, they would fall unconscious.
On the other end of things was an elemental mage named Creon Surgis. He would summon large amounts of magic and blast his opponents with fire, ice, and lightning. During his fights, the other mages would be paying close attention as well. Everyone except for Donovan, who had his eye on the balcony where Oriana was. She would sometimes look down to find him staring at her, only to have him wave at her and puff up his chest when she would wave back.
To try and not show favoritism, Oriana attempted to focus on one of Creon's fights, as that was who Tyir seemed to root for. But when his opponent was impaled on a pillar of ice, Oriana turned pale and tried to hold down her meal. It was a difficult sight to watch Creon's opponent's intestines gush out.
As she leaned over to cough, a voice next to her said, "Here, take this." Oriana had been handed a white handkerchief.
"Thank you," Oriana said, coughing into the handkerchief. The princess was used to things being handed to her when she needed them without really paying attention to who they were from.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING UP HERE!?!"
Tyir's yell startled Oriana, and she noticed that the person who handed her the handkerchief was none other than Donovan himself.
"Oh my! Sir Donovan! How did you get up here?" Oriana asked.
"Easy, I ran up the wall of the castle." Donovan replied with a smile. Reaching down, he took some of the food off the plate next to her. Oriana hadn't even taken a bite out of it.
"Get out of here! And stop eating the princess's food! You already cleaned us out earlier!" Celsy shouted, waving her hands at him as if he were a pest.
Donovan picked up Oriana's plate and quickly jumped off the side of the balcony. Celsy chased after him, only to have to force herself to stop at the railing. Oriana swiftly jumped out of her seat to stop Celsy from tumbling over the edge and back on her feet
"Be careful, Celsy. A plate of food is not worth risking your life."
"That peasant thief!" Tyir hissed. "Don't worry, Princess," he said, "You can help yourself to something from my plate."
"Thank you, Prince Tyir, but I couldn't eat a single bite right now."
Killian was watching the fight and hadn't noticed Donovan's absence. By the time he turned around, he found Donovan eating from the plate.
"Where did you get that food?" Killian asked.
"Princess Oriana," Donovan replied, handing the now empty plate to Killian and walking towards the center of the courtyard, where Creon was waiting for him.
Killian's eye twitched in anger, "You took the princess' food! When!?"
"Just a moment ago. Try to keep up, old man." Donovan said, before yawning as he went to face Creon in the final round.
"The match is supposed to be tomorrow!" Killian shouted.
"We want to fight now," Donovan said.
"He is right, Sir Killian. I wish to end this now. That way, we can move on." Creon said before smiling at Donovan "Are you ready to die?"
"Yeah, sure, give me your best," Donovan replied.
Creon only seemed irritated by Donovan's response. "You think this is a joke? I am going to kill you. I will be courtmage of Barough. Then I will be set for life." Creon said. "The Prince already thought I was better than the rest," he said, a smirk crossing his features.
"Idiot, it's the Princess's decision, but I didn't expect an ugly bastard like you to remember that. Now are we going to fight or talk?" Donovan replied.
Creon scowled at Donovan, as a whirlpool of fire began to encircle Creon. "I must admit, while those who have mastered the speed spell are rare, they are easy to deal with for a master like me. A simple, high-level inferno will keep you at bay. You are bound to die at my hand, the great and powerful--"
Creon stopped his monologue, as Donovan was already standing right in front of him. He had run right through his fire. Donovan didn't say anything. Instead, he just punched Creon in the face, sending him flying backwards. Creon was forced to use his wind magic to stop himself from hitting the ground, as he pulled himself upright once more. Creon held his broken nose with one hand while blood rushed down his face.
Donovan, who was standing twenty feet away, shouted, "Sorry about that! I was trying to fix that ugly mug. I think I just made it worse. Here, let me try again!"
When Donovan said he was going to try again, Creon panicked. He put up his hand, and a barrage of fireballs began to rain down upon the giant. Donovan quickly dashed forward, dodging the fireballs with ease. Each one of them burst into a magnificent explosion as they hit the ground. It quickly put Creon on the defensive, who once again put up the inferno around himself, adding a cage of lightning around the inferno. A fiery dragon head formed above Creon and breathed a stream of flame in Donovan's direction.
Above, Oriana was puzzled over how Creon had found out where Donovan was. The giant mage was moving so quickly that he couldn't be seen normally. Getting up, she had to look over the balcony to spot it. Creon had created a windstorm around the courtyard. From above, she could just barely see Donovan's form rippling through the wind, right where the dragon's head was aiming. Seeing Donovan's trail in the wind, Creon was able to pinpoint his location.
In his hand, Creon conjured a single fireball and launched it right at where Donovan was going to be. Suddenly appearing again, Donovan shocked everyone; Instead of trying to dodge or block the fireball, the mage grabbed it with his bare hand. He quickly charged it with some of his own magic before throwing it right back at Creon. The cocky, talkative mage never expected such a thing. Nor could he comprehend it as the fireball smashed into his stomach. Creon was sent flying backwards from the explosion. This time, Donovan was not going to let his opponent set up again.
The large battle mage came flying in while Creon was still soaring through the air. Donovan spun around swiftly. At the tail end of the spin, the man's leg collided with Creon's stomach. It caused the mage to reflectively double up in pain.
With a mighty crash, Creon was slammed into the ground. The force of the impact sent a plume of dirt and rocks into the air. The fire, lightning, and wind came to a swift end after that blow. When the dust settled, Creon's body could be seen twitching in a large hole that had been made from the impact of Donovan's kick as the blood pooled under him. The only sound coming from his mouth was a high-pitched whine. His eyes rolled into the back of his head as he passed out. Killian looked upset at the outcome.
Walking briskly towards the two, Killian gritted his teeth. He was hoping before he got there that Creon would come back, maybe try to fake Donovan out, though it never happened. Walking straight up to the unconscious body, Killian got down on one knee quietly. Checking his pulse, Killian would sigh and say, "He is still alive. Get a white mage!"
Oriana swiftly rose from her seat and hurried to the balcony. She clasped her hands together with a smile and called out to the mages.
"Congratulations, Sir Donovan, on winning the competition!" She called out to him, her green eyes locked onto his own. When he winked at her flirtatiously, she smiled in return.
"I also wish to extend a special thank you to everyone who competed! Will the remaining contestants please join Prince Tyir and myself for the celebratory meal as we congratulate Sir Donovan on becoming my new courtmage."