She was relentless. From the first second, she was on the offensive, wielding that massive shield as if it weighed nothing. She alternated between swinging it like a weapon and surging forward in short bursts of incredible speed, her shield leading the charge.

  I made the mistake of activating my slow-time spell to counter one of her attacks. The effort left me dizzy, and I couldn’t react in time—her shield slammed into me, sending me sprawling to the ground.

  My own attacks were either too sluggish or easily deflected by her shield, which she wielded with frustrating efficiency. Unlike my earlier matches, I didn’t have the raw power to overwhelm her outright. The only thing keeping me in the fight was the reputation I’d built from previous victories; she hesitated at each of my spells, unsure whether to dodge or absorb them.

  When I finally cast quicksand, I understood her caution. As soon as the spell took effect, she drove her shield into the ground and activated a skill that sent her hurtling toward me, her momentum turning into a fresh attack. It wasn’t a desperate improvisation, it was clearly something she’d practiced and perfected. Meanwhile, I didn’t even know what her exact class was, let alone her full capabilities.

  Ironically, my secret weapon, the slow-time spell, which I’ve not used until now, was barely an option. I could push myself to use it once or twice more, but that wouldn’t be enough to get through the yellow aura of her anti-magic shield. I needed another plan, and fast.

  Sensing my faltering energy, she ramped up her aggression. With a single motion, she touched her sword to her shield, transferring the glowing yellow aura to the shield itself. Was she now vulnerable to spells? I tested with a lightning bolt. Big mistake. She caught it with her shield and charged, her impact more devastating than before.

  Every hit now felt like poison coursing through my shield, weakening it further. While the strikes no longer staggered me, her relentless pace left little room to dodge or counter. My spells were neutralized almost instantly. A flick of quicksand? She slammed her shield into the ground, dispelling it. A lightning bolt? She either deflected or disrupted my cast with a precise shield bash.

  I was on the ropes, barely hanging on. Every spell I cast was countered, every move met with force. My shield’s energy was draining fast, and it was only a matter of time before it failed entirely.

  If I didn’t take a risk now, defeat was inevitable.

  She had made a critical mistake. Before, her glowing aura had made her nearly untouchable. But now, the protection was concentrated solely on her shield, leaving her body vulnerable. It was an opening I could exploit.

  Feigning weakness, I stumbled and staggered after every hit from her enchanted shield. It wasn’t difficult to sell the act—I was already on the brink of collapse. She took the bait, intensifying her assault. Meanwhile, I accepted that my shield was about to fail and focused on gathering what little energy I had left, bracing for what would come.

  Truth be told, I’d never experienced my shield failing completely—not in combat, at least. The few times it had happened, I’d been unconscious or fighting something far beyond human. A small part of me was curious about what it would feel like when it dissolved entirely.

  After a few more blows, a tingling sensation crept over me, signaling the shield’s imminent collapse. With one final hit, the tingling vanished, and I felt the cold night air bite against my skin, a little anticlimactic I had to say. This was it—now or never.

  Summoning every last ounce of strength, I activated my slow-time spell. Her next attack seemed to crawl toward me, and I dodged it with precision, planting a quicksand spell beneath her feet. The time dilation shattered instantly, leaving me dizzy and sprawled on the ground, vertigo spinning the world around me.

  When I opened my eyes, she was ankle-deep in the ground, clearly disoriented by how quickly her feet had already sunk. She slammed her shield into the earth, trying to dispel the spell, but the earth had solidified and all it did was scatter some dust. Her shield’s ethereal glow faded as she struck the ground again, this time scattering chunks of earth to the sides.

  I seized the moment, recasting quicksand as soon as the shield hit the ground a second time. This time, it sank a third of the way in before I canceled the spell, leaving her shield firmly stuck. Rage flickered across her face as she yanked the shield free. But I was ready. Another cast brought the quicksand back, and now her knees were buried.

  She was panicking. She tried switching the shield’s glow back to its yellow aura, but by now I had her rhythm down. I toggled the spell on and off, timing it perfectly to avoid her dispelling attempts. Her shield became trapped again, and this time, one of her arms was caught in the earth as well. She struggled furiously, but it was no use.

  I waited for the arbiter to begin the count, but he hesitated, looking between the two of us in confusion. That’s when I realized why—while she was immobilized, I was also sprawled on the ground, barely propped up on one elbow. With great effort, I dragged myself to my feet, swaying but upright. Only then did the arbiter begin the count.

  The crowd erupted in cheers, their roars echoing in the arena. I hadn’t even noticed them during the fight, too absorbed in the battle to hear anything.

  Another louder roar from the crowd signaled the end of the match and immediately the noise began to die down and even the arbiter made his way back from me. I almost started laughing. Were they expecting me to cast lightning bolts into the sky after the match I had? I couldn’t even remember how many I was supposed to—was it four or five?

  Whether it was the crowd’s energy fueling me or—more likely—the spell just wasn’t as exhausting as I feared, I managed to fire off one lightning bolt after another. Each one gave the audience a chance to settle before roaring back to life. By the fifth bolt, when the noise still hadn’t died down, I figured I’d finally hit the magic number.

  Officials were gathered around the paladin, trying to free her from the ground. She was really stuck in there. She’d been polite enough earlier, so I gestured for them to give me a moment. With a quick spell, the earth softened again, and they managed to pull her free. Hopefully, that was the last spell I’d need to cast today.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  “Thanks for helping me out,” she said, brushing dirt off her armor.

  I nodded. “You almost had me there. I have to respect a good opponent.”

  She squinted at me, a look of disbelief crossing her face. “Even if I’d won, I get the feeling you weren’t at your best today.”

  “Yeah, some days are just bad,” I murmured, already turning toward the exit.

  “If that was you on a bad day, I’ll be sure to bet on you in the semifinals,” she called after me.

  I winced internally. She had ten attendants buzzing around her. Clearly, she could afford to lose a few bets. At least it was over. I could already picture myself sinking into the bed, the old feather-and-straw mattress, once barely deserving the name, now felt like the pinnacle of luxury.

  ─── ????? ───

  Distant noises stirred me from sleep, paired with an odd light pressing against my eyelids. My half-conscious brain registered the inconsistency. Sunlight never hit my window except at sunset. Forcing my eyes open, I realized it was sunset, which meant I had been asleep for almost an entire day.

  Unfortunately, the rising clamor shattered my brief moment of peace. The sounds came from the hallway—footsteps, knocking on doors, and the unmistakable scrape of furniture being dragged across the floor. Even my door wasn’t spared, as loud knocks reverberated through the tiny room.

  Dragging myself upright, I shuffled to the door and opened it, greeted by three soldiers standing stiffly outside. My exhaustion dulled any urge to react defensively.

  “Yes?” I asked, squinting at them.

  The lead soldier, a man with a rigid expression, faltered the moment he saw me. His stoic demeanor cracked into something hesitant. “Are you... the lightning man?” he asked, his voice betraying uncertainty.

  I glanced down at myself. Still in the clothes from my last match. No wonder recognition came so easily. “Yes,” I answered, though my attention was drawn to more screeching noises from the hallway. “What’s with all the furniture-moving?” I muttered, more to myself than expecting a real answer.

  The soldier cleared his throat, his tone turning robotic. “There’s a citywide search mandate. Every building and room must be inspected.”

  A full sweep of the city? That seemed excessive. Then it hit me—the heist.

  Shaking off some of the grogginess, I gestured for them to come in. “Go ahead, search all you want. Just keep it down, will you? I just woke up.”

  The soldiers exchanged knowing grins, and I couldn’t help but notice the shift in their demeanor. One of them chuckled. “I imagine the victory party went until dawn,” he said, a hint of admiration in his voice.

  I laughed lightly, though I had no idea why everyone assumed I was the king of parties. People really did like to project their fantasies onto others. Still, I wasn’t about to ruin the illusion. “The party never stops,” I quipped with a grin.

  That seemed to satisfy them. They entered the room but spent more time eyeing me than conducting any real search. One of them, the chatty type, started peppering me with questions about the matches. I indulged him. It wasn’t every day I got to meet actual fans. The other two mostly listened, nodding along as if the conversation itself was the real task.

  As the room filled with idle chatter, a tantalizing scent of food floated in from the open doors. My stomach growled loudly enough to make me pause. “Mind if I leave you to it? I haven’t eaten yet.”

  They didn’t object, so I headed out, weaving past rooms that had been completely upturned. Did they really think they’d find anything incriminating in a random inn? Stranger things had happened, I supposed.

  I glanced back to find the soldiers trailing me downstairs. I stifled a groan, hoping the talkative one wouldn’t invite himself to my table. Some peace and quiet would be nice for once.

  Fortunately, they didn’t linger long, likely needing to continue their searches elsewhere. Left alone again, I felt conflicted about my next move. Should I head to the docks and check on the safe house? Curiosity tugged at me, but caution prevailed. Wandering the city at night during a citywide search mandate seemed reckless. There might even be a curfew or something similar in effect.

  I decided to return to my room and change into something cleaner. I was definitely sweaty, and the stares I’d been getting could just as easily be from my odor as from my newfound fame. While rummaging for fresh clothes, I stumbled upon a pouch—not just a purse, but a heavy sack. Opening it, I found at least a hundred gold coins inside. I groaned and slapped my forehead. If the soldiers had found this, they might’ve assumed I was tied to the heist. Either that or I’d have been stuck explaining the intricacies of match-fixing.

  Clearly, the money couldn’t stay here. If things went south, I might need to vanish without a moment’s notice, and returning to retrieve it wouldn’t be an option. Besides, with staff cleaning the rooms, leaving such a tempting prize behind was asking for trouble.

  The city itself wasn’t safe for a stash—too many eyes, too many searches. That left the outskirts. There weren’t any forests nearby, but the rocky outcroppings beyond the city should be secluded enough. Just barren stone, far from prying eyes.

  Grabbing the pouch, I conjured a portal to the city’s outskirts, letting the night’s darkness mask the spell. Under the faint moonlight, I adjusted the portal’s view, searching for an inaccessible spot. I could’ve stepped through with the gold, but the searing pain wasn’t worth it. In the hour it would take me to get there on foot, the odds of someone finding it were practically nonexistent.

  After locating a suitable hiding spot, I memorized its position relative to the rocky terrain and the city skyline. Satisfied, I tossed the pouch through the portal and began preparing for the journey to secure it.

  The city loomed in the distance, its towering spires piercing the silver haze of the rising moon. The silhouette was almost serene, a deceptive calm hiding the chaos that brewed within. I tightened my grip on the heavy bag, the coins inside shifting with a muffled clink. It was right in the place where I dropped it off, so now it was time for a more permanent place.

  I stopped at a rock outcropping that jutted out from the barren terrain in a distinctive arrow shape. It was weathered and worn, but sturdy. It would do nicely. I scanned the area for any signs of life, nothing but the occasional caw of a crow.

  Kneeling by the largest boulder, I placed my hand on its surface, closing my eyes to focus. A familiar warmth coursed through my arm as I summoned my magic, whispering the words under my breath. The rock beneath my hand began to soften, the once-solid surface rippling as though it were water disturbed by a pebble.

  A small pit formed in the stone, and I quickly dropped the bag inside, its weight vanishing into the hollow. Releasing my hold on the spell, I watched as the stone solidified again, the surface smoothing over as if it had never been disturbed. It was the first time I had used the spell like this, and there was always a certain satisfaction in seeing it adapt to new purposes.

  I stood, brushing the dust from my knees. The gold was safe, at least for now. If things went south in the city, I’d have something to fall back on. With one last glance at the hidden stash, I adjusted my cloak and began the trek toward the gates.

  The moon hung low, casting just enough light to guide my way back toward the city. The faint crunch of gravel beneath my boots was broken by muffled voices and the shuffle of feet carried through the still air. I slipped off the path, ducking behind a cluster of jagged rocks.

  The voices grew louder, and soon I saw them appearing from the valley, four men carrying torches, rough-looking and armed, dragging a fifth between them. He stumbled, barely able to keep his feet, and his groans of protest were quickly silenced with a harsh shove. My pulse quickened as they passed closer to my hiding spot.

  It wasn’t until one of them barked an order and the light struck the captive’s face that recognition hit me. It was Lucien. His disheveled appearance and bruised face were nothing like the confident man I’d seen not long ago, but there was no mistaking him.

  What was he doing here? And who were these men? I debated my next move. He knew a lot about the castle and the current guards and defenses. If they were planning to kill him, he could be persuaded to join the resistance or at least get any useful info he might have.

  I wasn’t the greatest rogue but the torches they carried made it easy to follow them from a distance.