Ailith led their team out into the square in front of the Guild’s hall. The people were subdued, militia and Guilders alike all standing with loose arms, some with heads hanging. They had already given up.

Faye did not like it. Morale and mindset were important to fighting. If your mindset was not right, then you were more likely to make a mistake by giving your opponent an opening you would not have normally.

She held her tongue.

Ailith was leading their triangle formation, but that did not guarantee that Faye or Gavan were not still in the crosshair. She switched focus to beyond the square. [Mana Sense] did not have anything of value to tell her. The Primalist leader’s mana was blanketing the town around the Guild. She could not see how far it stretched, but in wrapped their pocket of resistance in a globe of virulent green mana.

Working purely on instinct, Faye sent mana out into the area surrounding their team. Hers was a fiery red, mixed with yellows and oranges, which contrasted starkly against the virulent green of the Primalist.

“What are you doing, Faye?” Gavan asked, quietly.

“I’m not… sure.”

He did not reply, but she could sense his mana swirling out and around the team as well. His was a surprisingly bright aqua, tinged with streaks of sea green. As it emerged, it swirled around Faye’s mana and seemed to attack it.

Her mana sparked in the air around them.

It looked like the embers of a fire spitting out in a shroud around their team as they walked forward. Gavan raised an eyebrow, as if to ask is this what you were aiming for?

Faye shrugged.

Ailith, on her part, did not turn around as she stalked forward with her maul held casually across her shoulders.

“I hope that one of you is doing something sensible and is not about to explode us all to the high heavens.”

“It’s, uh… special effects?” Faye replied, just as quietly.

“Right,” Ailith said, with a barely noticeable nod, “just as long as your special effect doesn’t burn us, it will be fine.”

“Command your mana,” Gavan said, “not to interact. We are wasting mana.”

Faye glanced at the mage.

That makes a lot of sense, she thought, embarrassed she had not thought of it.

Concentrating, Faye looked carefully with [Mana Sense] at the boundary between her mana and Gavan’s. Sure enough, it was easy to see that the roiling boundary between their overlapping volumes of mana were interacting and annihilating each other — producing the sparks.

After a few moments of thought, Faye stopped the mana from interacting negatively with Gavan’s mana but used a tiny portion of her own to convert into similar sparks that still spat and danced around her group as they moved forward.

“Faye?” Ailith asked.

“Problem solved. Don’t want her to know that.”

“Good.”

Faye heard the smile in the Guardian’s words, despite not being able to see her face.

The light-hearted moment vanished in an instant, as the Primalist launched herself through the veil of mana surrounding the square to land directly before them. She landed with a rattle of bones clacking together, and her headdress’ antlers swayed as she righted herself.

“Well, then,” she said, her wide grin almost the only thing they could see under the headdress, “what have we here? Some playthings sent by the Goddess to amuse me; I hope.”

Ailith ground to a halt a step later, holding up her empty hand.

“We are Guild Adventurers; this is our home.”

The Primalist tilted her head slowly, the dangling pieces of bone and stone clinking against one another.

“Adventure… such a pretty word for a despicable thing.”

They waited. Ailith was clearly uncertain how to approach the conversation, and Gavan was his usual self. Faye was not sure that interrupting was a clever move, however.

“Will you leave us?” Ailith asked.

The Primalist’s leader stepped forward. Her foot sliding forward against the ground, almost like the movement a dancer would make. She was not wearing shoes.

“Leave you? Yes. We will leave you. On the ground, in the air, far away, left to rot as nourishment for the Forest.”

Faye grimaced.

The Primalist was just out of range of Faye and Gavan’s mana, the sparking fizzes and crackle still surrounding them like a barrier. She held out a finger and pressed it forward, as if to touch the mana itself.

As her finger met the swirling mana, a mass of sparks erupted in the air, and she pulled her finger back as if burned.

“Fire.” The Primalist spat out the word as if it were a curse. “Disgusting, dangerous thing.”

Faye shifted, but she should not have brought attention to herself because the Primalist’s eyes locked straight on hers.

“Dirty, little Firestarter. Yes. I know it is you. I have seen you, watched you. Starting fires refusing to reduce douse smother them, killing my people, violating the Goddess’ creatures.”

Faye lifted her head. She glared back. This was not a time for weakness, despite the tremble she felt in her soul.

The Primalist bared her teeth once more in a parody of a smile, then tried to step forward.

Faye concentrated the mana there and ignited it. The bloom of flames burst in the Primalist’s face, causing her to shriek and throw herself backwards.

“Firestarter! Dangerous! How dare she? What gives her the right to bring fire?”

Replacing the mana that had been burned, Faye commanded the motes of mana to surge forward into a barrier before their group. It formed a domed wall, something that would not stand against the masses of mana that still surrounded the square.

But, before Faye had finished forming her barrier, the Primalist lifted a hand and jabbed a finger at Faye. The virulent green mana that surrounded the square flashed forward.

In an instant, the green mana that had been swirling around the square, forming a terrifying display of expectant power, created a tsunami of bright green energy that bore down on Faye’s half-formed barrier.

Panicked, Faye lashed out. Forming her mana into a lance, she threw it at the Primalist. Her mana had a fraction of the distance to travel, which was the only reason she managed to get it to the Primalist in time.

The first lick of her fiery red mana touched the Primalist, and it immediately burned, bursting in a flash of power.

The Primalist screamed.

Faye screamed, the overwhelming wave of green washing out her vision as it impacted her.

It felt like being swallowed up by vines, each one riddled with thorns, writhing and masticating her twitching body. She could not move. Each moment was torture, pain that wracked the fabric of her soul.

Gavan reacted at the same moment Faye did. The wave of disgusting green mana bore down on them from on high, but he saw its true target.

Faye.

With half the mana that was already surrounding their team, Gavan created a bubble around Faye’s skin, a layer of protection that would not do much, but might do something. He sent the rest spiking into her from behind.

Unlike most mages, Gavan was not a true specialist. Despite wanting to work more on his core Mage abilities, the reality of his situation here in Lóthaven was that his healing skills were much more valuable. As it was, he still experimented.

What he had found was that a quick mana infusion at the moment of an attack was sometimes enough to boost the recipient’s defences.

Anything against that tide of mana was worth it.

Then, turning to the Primalist at last, he activated his fastest offensive spell.

[Ice Shard].

A shard of ice shaped like a javelin formed from mana, condensing the cold and chill already in the air to deadly ice at his will. A heartbeat later, it sliced through the air toward the Primalist. She was concentrating with venom on Faye, who had started screaming despite his precautions.

The Primalist shattered the ice with a backhand the moment it reached her.

Not to be deterred, Gavan started running away from Faye and launched more shards.

[Ice Shard].

[Ice Shard].

[Ice Shard].

He also concentrated and sent a [Lesser Heal] at his friend’s body. He could not help more than that, because he knew that the pain was mental more than physical. The best thing for Faye was to take down the attacking Primalist who was ripping apart her mind.

Each shard of ice either smashed upon a piece of the Primalist’s armour, or when she swung a fist through the ice.

He grimaced. The system had always told him that his ice spells were more powerful than anything else he had learned. That meant putting those others to the side and focusing on these. Ever since opening his eyes to the possibilities of being a mage when he was younger, Gavan had but one goal in mind.

To be a powerful spellslinger.

His habit recently had been to delve into one branch of his magic and attempt to power through using it. But this foe was too strong. His sense of her aura just told him ‘powerful’.

But she appeared to have one weakness.

Gathering his mana in the palms of his cupped hands, Gavan protected the growing spell until the last moment.

[Fire Dart].

Not unlike Faye, Gavan knew that pushing more mana into the spell would cause different effects. He had figured that out early in his path, too. Now that he was experienced with that technique, he could add other mental nudges to the mana as it formed.

The [Fire Dart] spell was a beginner’s staple. It was unruly, brash, eager to follow paths that its caster had not intended. It was why it was so inaccurate in its basic spellform. But by concentrating the mana the caster could force it fly true.

The swirl of mana as it entered the spellform was chaotic, but Gavan caused it to spin like a drill instead.

What emerged was still called [Fire Dart] by the system, because he had not focused on creating a new spellform but was functionally quite different to the spell Faye knew.

The bolt of fire and smoke drilled forward, moving in a straight line toward the Primalist’s back. It hit her in the side, which was a surprise in itself, but the energy that Gavan had imparted to the spell was higher than most darts by the time it reached the target.

His exploded in a balloon of fiery embers and force.

It knocked the Primalist to the side, and for a moment Faye’s screams faltered as the Primalist’s attention wavered.

She turned to glare at him.

Shit, I should have realised she would turn on me.

[Ice Wall].

A modified [Ice Shard] spell, the shards landed around the Primalist and rapidly formed a barrier of ice. Normally, it might entrap an enemy for a few minutes, the weaker they were the longer they stayed inside.

The Primalist burst through the barrier almost the moment it formed.

But before she could punish Gavan for his transgression against the Forest, which seemed to be what she was screaming at him, but he barely paid her words heed, Ailith’s armoured form spun into place between them.

Ailith’s maul arced through the air to slam into the Primalist, but she avoided the blow with a swift change of direction. Despite being a caster, her high level meant that even her physical attributes were a match for them. Gavan had known this would be a risky fight. The Guild Leader had perished, after all.

[Fire Dart].

Each time he used fire, her ire grew, until she was frothing at the mouth as she ran for him. Her patience had burned up with their repeated creation of open flames.

She was about five steps away when another figure appeared in Gavan’s vision and impacted with the Primalist. His sword blurred and drew lines of blood across her robes as he cut repeatedly. Each attack parried or pushed away, even a little, meant that none were truly dangerous blows.

The screeching had risen in volume. Gavan was still launching [Fire Darts] that drilled into her back, limbs, or face whenever it was free.

Arran easily avoided the spells in a practised dance.

Faye’s senses returned after an age of pain.

Surprisingly, her limbs were not shredded messes, she was in fact still standing. The sounds of the battle returned immediately.

She spun to face the fight, fighting down the burst of nausea that threatened to spill over. Her inner ear was spinning as her mind readjusted to the change in mental location.

Arran had arrived. He was battling the Primalist in close quarters. Gavan was launching what looked to be supercharged [Fire Dart]s into the Primalist every time she had to turn and deal with the Duellist.

She grinned. Excellent teamwork.

But something changed. The Primalist’s screech had risen in pitch, until she stopped, bulled through one of Arran’s attacks to get close, and she stabbed him in the throat with her hand, poised like a claw.

Faye heard the gurgle from here. She shouted and threw herself forward, drawing her sword that she had not yet had time nor the senses to unsheathe, and allowed it to be engulfed in flame.

The Primalist’s head swivelled as if on an owl’s neck, fixating on the flaming brand Faye carried. She dropped Arran to the ground, who writhed in pain, and ran for Faye.

She was fast. Faye barely had time to think. Fortunately, her instincts had been primed and ready. Slashing down, Faye intercepted the Primalist’s attack with her blade. It cut into her outstretched arm, sinking in barely a centimetre.

The Primalist screamed regardless, the flames of Faye’s sword hungrily licking at her flesh.

The scream cut off.

Silence descended.

The headless body before Faye dropped to the ground bonelessly.

Faye blinked.

“What the hell?”

Emerging from the wall of mana that surrounded the area they had been fighting in, the Guild Leader hobbled. In his hand, his axe dripped with blood.

He stared at the Primalist’s body with undisguised hatred.

“It is over,” he said, his voice rumbling, before he came to a stop and dropped to his knees before them all. “They are done.”

Then he slumped over. Faye was not certain he was breathing, but she shouted for Gavan to get over here.

She ran for the man’s form.

His skin was burning, flushed and angry with blotches of colour; red, green, and black. She peeled back his eyelids to look at his pupils. His eyes were bloodshot and the pupils tiny. His pulse felt thready in his neck.

“Gavan! Get over here, now!”

She had not even seen his attack. She was certain the Primalist had not either.

Looking up, Faye realised that [Mana Sense] had been blocking her sight of the town, the Primalist’s mana had surrounded Faye so thickly. Now, she could see the massed Guilders rushing out to help the militia harmed in the aftereffects of the battle, healers rushing toward Gavan and the downed Adventurers.

Without wanting to jinx it, Faye allowed herself the small hope that it truly was done, as Eanraigh had said. They had won.