"Someone's loss is someone else's gain"—or whatever that saying is—might just perfectly apply to me, even though both the loss and the gain were mine.
My senses were definitely heightened; I could feel it. The same went for my telekinesis—even though I'd limited its usage, the mana around me still responded, quicker than even the mana mist had against the Wraith.
Mana movements have always been strange. Everyone knows that. Sometimes it drifts toward you without warning; other times, it slips away just when you need it most. Unpredictable. Unstable. That very unpredictability was the principle I was leveraging right now. Even Ninia, who was most likely some powerhouse in disguise, couldn't detect anything suspicious about my mana callings. Probably.
"May I?" Ronith asked politely.
Ninia nodded with a smile, granting him permission—not just to use his element but also his weapon: Stardust, a massive spear that allows him to better control and manipulate the earth mana around and beneath him.
The weapon also served another purpose—it made close combat a dangerous option. Which was likely what Ninia had been angling for from the beginning: to force me into a corner and see what speciality I was trying to hide.
Though… one question did pop into my mind.
If she saw my memories... wouldn't she have also witnessed my telekinesis? I used it heavily—both against the Valgura and the Wraith.
I didn't have time to dwell on it. Ronith moved.
He took a stance, the tip of his long, straight spear gently coming into contact with the ground beneath him. The mana around me surged in response, roaring to life as a manifestation began to form under his feet.
Ronith was manifesting a massive, snake-like creature made entirely of compressed earth. He stood firmly atop its rising head—it reminded me of the imaginary dragons in those children's books I used to enjoy.
The ground rumbled. The snake grew, pulling itself free from the terrain like a titan slithering out of a subterranean pit. I let my mana embrace me, pulsing out in rhythmic bursts—side effects of drawing in large volumes of mana.
With an abundant reserve around me, I created massive arcs of mana, shaped in the image of Ronith's spear. One of them hovered at my side—silent, stable, and deadly. The snake reared its head. Ronith pointed his spear directly at me. That was its cue.
The beast came crashing down.
With a thunderous roar, it descended—fast, agile, and colossal. But not fast enough.
I used the mana around me to evade its strikes, my body gliding through the battlefield with precision. My senses tracked its massive body with ease. Even with only one eye, I saw clearly. The arc I'd created remained at my side, maintained with the help of telekinesis—far more draining than I had expected, especially while dodging at full speed.
BOOM. BOOM. BOOM!
The creatures will rain down in relentless waves. Its tail, newly formed and dense, whipped around violently, attempting to crush me under its enormous weight.
I launched the mana arc in retaliation.
The blast tore into the beast's body, shattering sections of its hardened form. Chunks of earth crumbled off in all directions. Ronith didn't hesitate. He channelled more energy through the snake's mouth, forming a barrage of earth arcs—each about four to five meters long and dense enough to pulverise stone.
But my speed and agility made me a hard target.
ZUP!
I manoeuvred around the attacks, my reinforced reflexes weaving through the barrage as I returned fire with a flurry of my own mana arcs, most aimed at the snake's thick neck. The damage accumulated rapidly.
Snowhite shimmered in my grip as I prepared another barrage, this time storing mana directly through its blade. Then, with a groan and a cracking echo, the snake crumbled—like a brittle cookie crushed between two palms.
Ronith leapt down gracefully. The moment his feet touched the ground, he swept Stardust in a wide arc and dashed forward—fast, focused, relentless.
I reacted.
Using the mana Snowhite had previously stored, I countered his incoming dusk-colored slash arc with one of my own—a slightly curved vertical arc, radiant and cold, echoing the silver glow of the moon above.
Our arcs clashed midair, a brilliant collision of light and force.
Neither overpowered the other.
Neither gave in.
Instead, they collapsed into one another—two forces of equal will, unravelling in a cascade of shockwaves and smoke.
Dust surged outward in a haze.
But even in the chaos, Ronith stood out—like a white rabbit darting through an open field, too fast, too focused to lose track of. I could sense him, and no doubt he'd already locked onto me. His blade slashed upward in a sharp vertical arc, and with it, the earth beneath me surged. A jagged ridge erupted from the ground like a newborn mountain, rising too fast to react. My footing faltered—but only for a moment. I pivoted, barely slipping past the stone structure before it could throw me off completely.
But just as quickly as it had risen, the mountain began to crumble, like it was never meant to last. The solid mass, hard as diamond, disintegrated into dust, collapsing under the weight of its own raw, unstable power.
Then the mana shifted again. This time, it didn't target me. It wrapped around him.
Earth mana gathered like a tide, swirling around Ronith and his blade, enfolding them both in a living armour. Layer after layer of dense rock and coarse sand formed over his body, thick, grainy, and yet somehow seamless. It didn't just cover him. It clung to him, fused to him. Two massive sets of horns grew from his skull—one set stabbing skyward, the other running parallel along his cheekbones, ending just past his chin like jagged tusks. His weapon was buried beneath the transformation, its form now more earthen monolith than forged steel—stone and soil compressed into brutal elegance.
He looked less like a knight now and more like some sand-hued war god, sculpted by the earth itself, made to punish anything foolish enough to stand in his path.
BOOM.
I didn't even see the full motion—only the aftermath. One moment, I was searching for his movement—the next, Ronith was already in front of me, his armoured knuckles primed to pierce straight through my chest.
Snowhite caught the blow. Just barely. My blade trembled in my grip as the full force slammed into it, sending a quake through my arms, rattling my bones. The impact launched me backwards, but it didn't matter. I was still breathing.
As I pushed myself up, pain lacing through my forearms, I noticed the veil above us had expanded. Ninia had widened the isolation barrier, giving Ronith more room to move, more space to cast—probably knowing damn well he would. It wasn't a spare anymore. It was training through trial, forged in raw power.
I steadied my stance and raised Snowhite again, pouring mana and telekinesis into the blade—layering it with energy, tracing the same principle Ronith had just shown me. The structure of the weapon thickened under the pressure, reinforced not by the earth but by me, by my intent, my flow, my will to survive.
He charged again.
His armour hadn't slowed him down in the slightest. If anything, it made him faster. And now I knew—this wouldn't be a duel of strength. It would be a clash of resolve, a test of how far I could push myself with only one eye, against someone who wore the earth like a second skin.