Sylph stepped off the stage a few moments later. She sat down beside Damien as Mark and the other boy rose from their seats and walked onto the arena unbidden.

“Mark versus Urvo. Begin!” Teg ordered once they’d taken their positions. “And I better not see any funny b–”

“Teg,” Whisp warned.

The man’s mouth closed. At the same time, sand rushed up from the ground, enveloping Mark in his armor. The boy raised his sword, then lowered into a fighting stance, waiting for his opponent to make the first move.

Urvo thrust his hands forwards. A wave of dark energy rippled out from his hand, buffeting Mark and forcing him back several steps.

“He’s another dark magic user,” Damien said aloud.

“With a lot more energy than I have,” Sylph said. It was difficult to tell if her words were annoyed or if she was just stating a fact.

Blades of dark energy slipped out from the shadows now covering the stage and slashed at Mark. However, not a single blow connected in a meaningful way. Several were caught by his sandy armor, while he blocked the remainder with his sword.

Mark made his way towards Urvo, pressing through the hail of attacks raining down on him. Damien could see Urvo start to panic as the boy realized that his magic was borderline worthless against the other student.

“I don’t think his strikes are as dangerous as yours,” Damien observed as a blade of shadow harmlessly bounced off Mark’s armor. “If you’d landed half of those hits on Mark, he’d probably be down for the count already.”

“It’s possible,” Sylph allowed. “He’s got a lot more magical energy than I do, though. I don’t know if I’d be able to beat Urvo.”

“What about Mark?” Damien asked.

“Not sure about that either. I’m pretty sure he’s been holding back in the fights we had in class. If he actually went all out…” Sylph trailed off, ending the sentence with a shrug.

Mark was gaining ground on Urvo. He was slowly forcing the other boy towards the edge of the arena. Mark bled from a few wounds on his hands and face, but none of them were serious.

Urvo’s expression grew more strained as Mark gained ground on him. He redoubled his efforts, but it was ineffective. Mark’s armor and reflexes were just too much.

With a sudden burst of speed, Mark dashed forward, ducking past several attacks and slicing out with his sword. He stopped it an inch from Urvo’s neck.

“Killing blow,” Teg announced. Urvo’s shoulders slumped and he let out a defeated sigh.

“Damn,” Urvo said. “You’re insane. How can you move that quickly? I’ve never met anyone who could block all of my attacks like that.”

“There were too many of them with too little power,” Mark replied, lowering his sword. “You should focus on throwing some stronger attacks in between the weak ones. You can whittle weaker opponents to death with mosquitoes, but that isn’t going to work against anyone stronger than you.”

Urvo pressed his lips together and gave the other boy a curt nod. He headed back to the stands and Sylph rose, walking onto the arena to take his place.

“Well, it took long enough, but this is the final match of the Year One ranking battles,” Teg announced. “Are the two of you prepared?”

Sylph and Mark nodded, not taking their eyes off eachother.

“Then begin!”

Sylph slipped back, fading out of sight instantly. Sand flowed up Mark’s body, thickening his armor. He used a tactic similar to Damien’s, watching the ground to spot Sylph before she got close to him.

The ground where she’d been standing dimpled. Mark took a step back just in time to avoid a flicker of darkness as Sylph sliced through the air where he’d been standing, flickering into view in the air above him before fading again.

“You jumped that far?” Mark asked, impressed. The response was a slash that carved a deep furrow in his arm, cutting through the sand and drawing a thin red line up to his shoulder.

Mark’s gaze narrowed. He stomped a foot on the ground. Sand erupted around him in a violent storm, pattering around Sylph and revealing her position.

He lunged towards her, his blade flickering like a hungry viper. A clang rang out as Sylph caught the strike with her magic and the two of them started the fight in earnest.

Damien struggled to track the students as they clashed within the sandstorm. Several cuts appeared along Mark’s chest and his armor started to turn a light pink from the blood mixing in with the sand, but the injuries seemed to be little more than superficial.

Sylph’s speed let her stay ahead of Mark’s attacks, but both of them knew it was only a matter of time. They were both low on Ether, but Sylph had always been at the disadvantage in that regard.

The sand started to churn faster. Mark caught a strike with the pommel of his sword and retaliated with a blindingly fast strike. Sylph flickered back, reappearing for an instant with an ugly red wound running across her chest.

Blood splashed down onto the sand, but she didn’t make a single noise. She faded back into her camouflage.

“Don’t let yourself bleed out,” Mark warned her. “That wound looked serious.”

Despite his words, he didn’t let his sword lower for a second. A blur of darkness flew out of the sand, blurring past his guard and carving a deep furrow through his side. Mark grimaced as the magic cut clean through his armor and into the flesh beneath it.

The sand rushed to cover the hole, but the damage was already done. Now both of them were bleeding heavily from their wounds.

Sylph’s invisibility faded. She reappeared several feet away from Mark, a short sword made of dark energy flickering in her hand. A few moments later, the sandstorm faded as well. The two of them stared at eachother, panting.

“Looks like it’ll come down to our swordsmanship,” Mark said, smirking. “You’re lucky Damien bought you that extra time to recover. This would have been over already if he hadn’t.”

Sylph changed her stance, holding the sword in front of her with one hand while placing the other behind her back.

“You aren’t going to win this,” Mark said. “I’m better with the sword than you.”

“I know,” Sylph said.

They dashed towards each other. Sylph’s sword flickered and vanished. Mark’s concentrated frown didn’t waver for a second. They were upon each other within an instant. Sylph twisted, bringing her other hand forward as Mark swung his sword at her side.

Sylph was an instant faster. Her open hand thudded into Mark’s chest. The tiny white corner of a slip of paper stuck out from beneath her palm.

A blast of fire engulphed Mark, the force causing him to stagger and miss his attack on Sylph. The blade flickered back to life in her hand and she raised it to his neck before Mark could recover.

“Death blow,” Sylph said quietly.