“What is more dangerous, magic or a sword?”

“Magic, obviously.”

“Wrong. A weapon is only ever as dangerous as the wielder of it. Therefore, the answer is irrelevant. What matters is to think not of the weapon but of the person behind the weapon. That is what it means to wield the sword.”

The person behind the weapon.

With his sword held before him, the cloaked man advanced a step at a time, a more defensive stance than I had expected.

Assuming it’s not self-taught, it must be a southern style.

My mother’s old adventuring friend had once told me how the different regions of the continent had varying official sword styles, us in the northeast were known for our lineage to the swift sword and, as such, often took forms that mimicked it. They favored the brutal sword within the center lands, a style revolving around the accentuated use of strength for dealing with the larger population of savannah monsters and their tough hide. Finally, to the south was where the shield sword had been born, a defensive style that saw usage in the duels of nobles of the true capital.

If he isn’t self-taught, they’re likely coming from the south.

I stepped forward, holding my stance close as I advanced with my first style. The man seemed unphased, as if he expected it.

Probably ready for it, first style was based on the swift sword, after all.

My blade lashed out, but the man caught it on the flat of his blade with a minimal flick of his wrist.

Then comes the riposte.

Had I not been taught the ins and outs of the differing styles of swordplay throughout the continent, I would have been struck through as a lightning-quick return strike came from my opponent. Dropping low, I tossed myself in a backward roll, the move awkward, having never been extensively practiced. It was enough that I managed to clear out of the path of his blade before I popped back up, sword still held before me. My opponent raised an eyebrow at me as if surprised or impressed that I had avoided that lethal parry.

That’s right, not as easy as you thought this would be.

I lunged forward in a move that to most would have looked like a typical strike in the regular repertoire of a swift sword user, and just as well that the cloaked man appeared to anticipate that it was, lowering his sword to once more fend off my sudden rush.

I waited until I was sure his sword would flash out, ready to fend off my strike before I slammed my foot down, halting my forward momentum. As I had hoped, the cloaked man’s sword shot out to intercept my sword, only to catch nothing as I slowed myself just enough to have successfully lured his blade out. Swinging my arms overhead, I swung down with as much strength as I could muster as the cloaked man’s eyes widened in surprise.

Got you!

The sudden shift in my attack pattern had done the trick, the cloaked man unable to react in time to what must have seemed to him as if I had gone from standard north style to central style. My sword came down, his weapon no longer close enough to fend me off as I felt my sword bite into flesh.

Don’t think about the fact you cut a real person.

The cloaked man had managed to get an arm in the way of my descending blade, my sword cutting his arm off from the elbow down. It was a grave injury, but it was better than if my sword cut him through the chest. The man looked down at his dismembered arm as if it were nothing more than an annoyance, cradling his arm for a second as I saw his lips part, a whispered word escaping them.

“Scorz.”

As soon as the word escaped his lips, I saw a red glow come from the bloodied stump beneath his elbow, the smell of burning flesh filling the air as the raw meat was cauterized.

“Magic.” I let out a huff as the man gave his arm a pat before raising his sword to me once more.

“‘Fraid so.” The man gave me a knowing smile. “You got me good there. I’ll give you that. What was that even? Northern style doesn’t use those big overhead swings.”

“Self-taught.” I admitted, no point hiding it now.

“Ahh. The issue with self-taught, most fail to ever teach themselves a good self-made style. Looks like you had some promise.”

“Had?”

“Well, I’m still not letting you leave here alive.”

I glanced over towards where my mother was still fighting against the two foremost mages, her brow furrowed in concentration as her hands danced about and sweat began to roll down her cheek. She was still in a deadlock, and without any help, I feared for her chances. It had been long since my mother actively fought with her magic.

“Try me.” I forced a confident smile. It wasn’t as if I could back down now; I doubted the man would simply let me walk away.

Not like I could. The village was still burning, and my mother was still fighting for her life.

Think. Think. What can I use?

My opponent was some variant of magic swordsmen. I could only guess that he was primarily focused on swordplay, given he hadn’t made use of overt magical abilities.

Or he could just be going easy on me.

I had taken an arm off, but it was far from my favor.

Still, an arm was an arm.

No point trying to be noble now.

I ran forward, keeping to the side where I had taken his arm off, attempting quick darting strikes before bouncing back out of reach, feints that we both knew were never intended to hit their target.

“How do you beat someone better than you?”

“You don’t.” My temporary mentor gave me a shrug as if it were obvious.

“But-”

“A better opponent will always win. But that isn’t what you should be asking.”

“It…it isn’t?”

“No. The better fighter will always be decided by who is left standing, so what you should be asking is ‘how do I make sure I’m the better opponent?’”

I relaxed my grip on the pommel of my sword. It was evident in a pure skill match up, I couldn’t hold a candle to the man, I had gotten him with a quick trick he hadn’t seen coming, but now it was as if his defense had leveled up several times over, I would never pull off such a move again. Not just that, he had magic on his side.

“The thing about fighting with a sword is there will be times when you must understand that you won’t be able to escape unmarked, an equally matched opponent will force you to the limit of your abilities, and a foe gifted with greater talents than your own will force you to push past your limits, to find victory where none would ordinarily exist.”

I stepped forward as if making another feint, and instantly I could see that the magic knight saw that this was different, not a feint, but the real thing. My sword flicked forwards, as did his, and I could feel a sharp pain blossoming from the side of my ribs.

Good.

The enemy magic knight’s sword was currently buried partially in me, meaning he couldn’t react as my own sword, which had been swept out of the way, came flicking back towards him. A momentary flash of surprise shot through his eyes before he stepped back in surprise, pulling away from me as his blade retreated. Perhaps the pain of his sword pulling free from me was too much, as I faltered for a moment, my own blade only carving a shallow cut through the front of his chest, nothing more than a bloody cut. The man looked down at his chest, patting it once before looking back towards me with a raised eyebrow.

“Well. You’ve got grit. Don’t see novices like you willing to risk life and limb for any chance at gaining the advantage.”

I wanted to respond, but the only sound that came out from between my pursed lips was a tightly guarded sound of pain, my mental resolve wavering as my body reacted to the injury.

“You haven’t endured real pain, real injuries yet. I’m guessing you’ve never had anything worse than a broken bone. I’ll give you props for holding yourself together as well as you have, but it’s clear you can’t keep it up. I’ll give you one more chance to leave. You have talent, talent enough that I’ll ensure you get to survive this all. Hell, might even be able to bring you with us; you could get entry into the sword academy.”

I wasn’t sure why he seemed so hell-bent on convincing me to run off, but I felt an inkling of temptation for a moment. What he had offered me was what I had always wanted, a chance to leave, start over, and see new things.

It would only cost sacrificing the people of the village and my mother.

I grimaced, clenching at the hole in my side as blood flowed freely from it, looking once more at the man. Gritting my teeth, I raised my sword in a dueler’s salute once more.

“Well, your funeral.” He shook his head as if annoyed, and for the first time, he came to me. The first step was almost too quick for me, his blade barely missing stabbing me through the head as I flinched out of the way, a cut opened on my cheek.

Shit.

I had assumed the man was only a practitioner of southern style, but the quick forward step, the sheer speed of the strike, could only have come from northern style.

Not just was he a magic knight, he was a multi-style magic knight.

Once more, the sword came flashing towards my face like a striking viper, and once more, I narrowly survived as I tripped over my feet, gravity pulling me out of the way of the fatal hit.

“Stay on the ground, get put six feet below it.”

Words of advice from years ago ringing out in my ears, I altered the course of my fall, turning it into a backward roll as his sword swiped through where my neck would have been moments prior had I kept falling without adjusting.

Crap crap crap crap crap.

I had avoided three strikes and three deaths only by pure luck. I couldn’t keep this up. Lady luck would only watch over me for so long.

What do I do?

What do I do?

What do I do?

I was desperately searching for an answer, a way out, but none came to me. I tried tricking him, putting myself in harm’s way to force some opportunity, but he had blown past them all.

Once more, his blade him shooting towards me, and this time I knew I was out of luck. I could see it all as if I had been caught flat-footed on the backpedal in slow motion. There was no way I would manage to form a coherent defense in time to save myself. I closed my eyes, waiting for the bite of death.

Sorry, mom.

Holding my eyes closed, it wasn’t until a second had passed without any hint of pain that I peeked out, looking out in front of me.

The opposing magic knight had been flung away from me and was staggering to his feet.

“You looked like you needed some help.”

My head whipped to the side, to the source of the voice as she jogged up to me, out of breath, patches of hair burnt away with soot covering her face, but very much alive.

“Sarah?”

“Duh. Unless I’ve suddenly become someone else.”

Even given the situation, I couldn’t help but grin.

“I take it these are the guys behind what’s happening in town?”

“Yeah.”

“Thought so. Everything was fine, then fire started exploding all around us. It locked on me when I tried to counter it with my own magic. I had to use my magic to avoid it, but every time I used magic, more fire appeared. It wasn’t until a few minutes ago that it stopped.”

I nodded. The locking on of the fire user had likely ceased to function when he had been forced to turn his full attention to my mother.

“So, we just need to stop them, right?”

“Yeah, but we need to get through him first.” I pointed towards the magic knight she had blown away with a gust of air.

“Seems easy enough.” She smirked, throwing her hand out. “Rentar!”

A spike of earth ripped out from the ground towards the man, but he likewise flung his own hand out before it could reach him.

“Scortar!”

Sarah’s spike of earth was met by a similarly shaped spike, but whereas hers had been natural earth, the spike created by the enemy swordsman was black colored metal, shattering the earthen spike as if it were glass.

“Uhh, Rook? Did you know he could do that?”

I could only stare at the man, surprise on my face. “No.”

He wasn’t just a magic knight.

He wasn’t just a multi-style magic knight.

He was a multi-style magic knight with an earth and fire deviancy.

“Girl, I was trying to have an honorable duel with the boy there. Now it’s two versus one. Not very honorable, is it?”

Sarah and I stared at one another, unsure what to say.

“If that’s the case, don’t blame me for this.”

A forest of black metal spikes came shooting towards us from every direction, but before they could pierce us, Sarah dropped to one knee, slamming her palms on the ground.

“Rentar!”

A wave of earth rolled away from us, overwhelming the spikes and destroying the terrain around us.

I stared at Sarah, unsure what I had just seen. Such an explosion of magical power should have knocked her out, but she simply looked back at me, huffing with a grin.

“What the-”

“I don’t know. For some reason, I just feel like I’m overflowing with power right now.” Sarah said as she grabbed my outstretched hand.

The enemy magic knight was scowling at us, but he was holding off on attacking for a moment as if gauging us.

“Sarah.” I looked her in the eye, a plan, not a good one, but a plan forming in my mind. “Cover me.”

“What are you thinking?” Sarah gave me her signature look of disproval even without knowing what I had in mind.

“Just cover me. It has to be this way, I can attack, but I can’t defend from his magic.”

“Fine.” Sarah said before looking down at my side, worry forming on her face. “Rook!?”

“It’s nothing.” I lied.

“At least-” Sarah pressed her palm against my injury, eliciting a pained inhale from me. “-scorz.”

A flash of heat burnt my side as the scent of burning flesh spilled out from under her palm. The pain was immense but so short-lived that I had no time to react before she pulled her hand back. “There, at least it won’t be bleeding freely.”

“Thanks.” I tried my best to look appreciative. “Now, shall we?”

“You’re an idiot.” Sarah rolled her shoulders, hands outstretched as a faint smile formed on her face. “But I guess we shall.”

I ran forward, holding my sword with renewed vigor as I focused solely on the man. All around me, I sensed more than saw as great black spikes shot forward but were quickly countered by extra thick columns of earth shooting out and shattering them, Sarah’s sudden growth in her magical reservoir was the only reason this had any shot at working.

Just hold on for a bit longer, you and mom.

My blade swung forward before being met by the enemy magic knight’s sword, his face no longer as easy going as before as I saw beads of sweat roll down his forehead.

“You have no idea what you’re doing, kid.” He nearly hissed at me, his sword lashing out as I struck it away.

“Maybe not.” My attacks came out in a flurry of rapid strikes, meant to ware own on him. “But that’s my mom you’re trying to kill.”

With Sarah backing me up, I felt invincible, like we were always meant to work as a team rather than separate. My sword came from a low angle, and before where the man would have easily deflected my strike, I saw him barely react, the strain building and showing in his brow even more.

I grinned, my plan working. He had talked about fighting nobly and all that, but I had begun to wonder if perhaps it was something else, that the mental capacity to switch from magic to sword fighting instantly was beyond him, like trying to switch between two languages you weren’t fully fluent in. If Sarah could keep pressing him, forcing him to react to her magic, he would be unable to end the fight instantly by skewering me through with his own magic. Focus split between reacting to her magic and my swordsmanship; he would be unable to do either at 100%. Regardless of his skill and power, he was still only one man, a man missing a hand at that.

We could do this.

His sword flashed forward towards my chin, but he narrowly missed as I stepped back and out of the way. In return, I grasped the pommel of my own sword with both hands, striking forward with a heavy downward swing, my emulation of the aggressive center style. His eyes widened, but he could not avoid the hit, a small rolling earth wave beneath his foot tripping him up at the same time.

“Go down!” I yelled and using as much of my strength as I could muster, the flat of my blade slammed down onto his shoulder blade. The man dropped to one knee as my leg kicked forward, my foot catching him square in the face.

The man dropped, apparently unconscious, or nearly as I likewise fell to the ground, the exhaustion hitting me like a sledgehammer.

My body was screaming, and I wanted nothing more than to take a nap.

But.

But my mother was still fending for herself.

“Sarah.” I huffed. I could hear her running steps as she grabbed me.

“Rook! Are you ok?”

“Dunno.” My words were slurring, but I pointed forward. “Mom.”

“Right.” She huffed, looking from me towards my mother. “Got it.”

I may have been out of energy to keep fighting, but Sarah at least seemed to be full of vigor. I watched from the side of my eye as Sarah stood back up, but rather than run forward or make any regular uses of magic that I was accustomed to, she clasped her hands together in front of her as if holding something.

“Renzess.”

Had I not been bone-tired, I would have felt taken aback by the uttered word. Instead, I could only watch as two spears of ice blasted out from between her hands.

Renzess. The deviance magic of ice and earth.

The thing was, Sarah had not once shown any deviant magic.

Where is she getting this from?

I heard two muted grunts, and just like that, the battle was over. The two enemy magicians battling my mother had been so focused on her that they had no chance to ready any form of defensive magic in time. It was why their companion had been guarding their backs in the first place.

Or so I thought.

Before I could even think of relaxing, I felt a sway in the wind around me, before the sway turned into a wind vortex, pulling inward.

Directly towards the magic knight that I had knocked unconscious.

“Your joking.” I muttered, still lying flat on the ground.

The man was standing back up, but something had changed. The way the air hung around him was heavy, dense as if he had his own atmospheric pressure. The swell of power felt as if it were grating on me physically.

“Hate this.” The man was dusting himself off, and as he did, the arm from which I had cut down to a nub began to ripple and flex, before, with a sickening sound that I could only describe as crawling flesh, his arm regrew.

“I was commanded to try to deal with this discretely, you know? So I capped my power and funneled it through my two underlings. And what do you go and do? Kill them. Now my hand is forced.”

I had messed up. By not killing the man when I had the chance, I had given him this chance.

But how was I supposed to know this would happen?

“Sarah!” I heard my mother yell out. A moment later, it was as if the world was spinning around.

No, not the world. I’m the one spinning.

When everything had stopped spinning, I was lying on the ground next to my mother and Sarah.

“Help me.” I had never seen my mother look as desperate as she was now. Even when she had been fighting two foes at once of at least gold band, she had seemed collected and composed.

“What- what is he?”

“Ornnax band at least.” My mother whispered, and even out of it as I was, I felt my body shudder.

“Ornnax?”

“Help me.”

I could see Sarah nod, and the two of them raised their hands, power swirling between them as they readied themselves.

“And not just am I stuck having to use my full power, it’s against two country bumpkins. There is no Sage here. So instead, I’m doing all this just for a witch who was wanted years ago. Beneath me, I swear.”

Danger.

Everything was screaming danger within me. I had to get up, had to help. Danger was coming.

“Rook?” My mother looked at me as I forced myself back to my feet, shakily holding my sword before me as if that would do anything.

“Can’t… do…. Nothing.” I huffed, my sword feeling as if it would fall from my hands at any moment.

My mother smiled, and that was how I knew things were bad. Ordinarily, she would chastise me for trying to act tough.

Now, she simply seemed grim, as if trying her best to put on a show of anything other than hopelessness.

“Here it comes.” Sarah looked towards my mother as the magic knight flicked his wrist.

Death.

That was what I felt as a wave of oppressive power that preluded his magic rolled over us.

“Sanctum.” I saw his lips utter.

“Now!” My mother shouted, and combing their magical might, a lance of white-hot fire was shot between them, seeming heavier, more… real.

It was the most astounding act of magic I had ever seen.

And it did nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

The fire hit the man or should have hit the man, but only an arms distance in front of him, it simply vanished, the entirety of the fire blown away.

“What?” My mother’s voice hitched a pitch, saying what we were all thinking.

Magic didn’t do that. Not without a countering force. Didn’t just expire as if it had never been there.

“See? This is what I mean. Like having an army deal with a couple of ants.” The man sighed, sauntering towards us as if nothing of note had happened.

Somehow he was magic immune. That was all I could think of.

It has to be me.

I gripped my sword tightly, raising it in front of me as I swallowed some non-existent spittle.

“Fight me.” I called out, my voice hoarse and dried out from the sudden blast of heat that had evaporated much of the moisture in the vicinity.

“Hmm?” The man tilted his head at me before he smiled once. “The only one of note here.”

I felt my hopes rise. Maybe, just maybe, I could at least make him focus on me, give Sarah and my mother a chance to escape.

“But I’m afraid there will be no more games.”

The magic knight vanished, and I could sense as he appeared behind me, next to my mother and Sarah.

“Never liked kids with an ego just because they have a bit of magic.”

His hand snapped out, chopping Sarah in the neck. A cry of guttural pain escaped me as the chop hit her with so much force she instantly dropped to the ground, her head turned far too much to one side.

“As for you, Witch, you’re wanted alive.” I turned to see as the man grabbed my mother by the neck.

“Please!” I called out, tears streaming down my face. “Take me instead!”

“Sorry kid. Call it my favor that I’m not killing you, a lot of guts for a kid without magic.”

And just like that, he was gone, a shower of red sparkles appearing around him as he and my mother disappeared.

I couldn’t hold myself together any longer. I dropped to my knees, sobs escaping from me.

My village had been burnt to the ground.

My best friend had been killed.

And now my mother had been taken.

Another sob ripped free from me.

Why?

Why?

What had I done?

Why did I deserve this?

I sucked in a breath, my body needing oxygen to replace what I had lost in my sobs, when a voice called out, one I recognized.

“Would you shut it? I swear, kids are so noisy.”

I slowly turned around, unsure what was going on.

Sarah was standing there.

Sarah who had just died.

“Actually, why are you still a kid?” Sarah looked at me, but something about her face seemed wrong, as if someone else were wearing it.

“S-Sarah?” I felt my words warble out of me, filled with uncertainty.

“Sarah. That was her name, was it?” Sarah seemed curious, patting away at her body. “Hmm. Similar proportions to my own. Little young, though. Didn’t expect that.”

“Sarah? What, is that you?”

Sarah, my best friend, my only friend really, shook her head as if what I had said was a stupid question, the look on her face one I had grown to known, but somehow so alien. “Of course not. Do you not recognize a Sage when one stands before you? And not just any Sage, but the Sage Above All.”

“Are- are you ok, Sarah? Did that hit confuse you?”

Sarah, I refused to believe it wasn’t Sarah, shook her head at me. “Kids, I swear. Oh, I know what will convince you.” Sarah snapped her fingers before pointing towards the sky. I felt the air stir, not just in the area but everywhere, like a storm was about to roll in.

“Seal.”

Before us, where the man who had taken my mother had disappeared, an explosion of purple electrical sparks exploded out as if spilling through the cracks in space. A second later, the man was back, looking very much confused, with my mother.

“What the-” The man looked around before his gaze locked onto Sarah. “You. So you were a Sage.”

“So, at least somebody understands.” Sarah seemed pleased, throwing her hands up as if basking in her own glory.”

“Change of plans. Guess I will nab a Sage after all.”

“A Sage hunter.” Sarah was scratching at her nose as if it was a novel thought. “Well then, do try.”

The man threw my mother to the side, and I dove forward, catching her in my arms.

“Sanctum.” The man shouted, a dome of yellow visibly appearing around him this time.

“Boring.” Sarah sighed before waving her hand toward the dome. “Would you like me to take you seriously or play around?”

The man flung a hand toward Sarah with a shout. “Drain.”

A wave of black shot from his hand.

Sarah yawned.

“Play around, I guess.” Sarah gestured towards the cloud as if it were an annoying pest. “Seal.”

The black cloud fizzled out of existence as the word escaped her mouth.

“Smite!” The man shouted, a bolt of energy cracking out from his hand.

“Seal.” The energy passed through Sarah as if it were nothing more than a light show.

“Burn!” The man raised his arms as if summoning something, but still, Sarah seemed unphased.

“Alright, enough. No point playing around with a Fifth Ringer at best. Seal.”

Whatever magic the man had been conjuring forward died without a sound, and not just that, but the yellow dome around him vanished.

“What?” It was the man’s turn to be confused, but he received no answer. Sarah instead an index finger towards him before smiling once, something about it seemed wrong.

“Scorz.”

The man managed a single scream before he fell to his knees, an orange glow faintly emitting from his every orifice, as he was burned alive from the inside out.

Sarah turned towards me, a smirk on her face.

“Now then, convinced?”

“Who- who are you?” I whispered.

“One of the Great Sages, The Sage Above All. The real question though-” Sarah, or not-Sarah, leaned towards me. “Is, just who aren’t you?”