Chaos erupted. The crowd, which had been roaring for a spectacle of power, fell into a stunned, horrified silence. The vibrant, life-affirming energy of Aria's magic had been replaced by something foul, something that felt like decay. On the arena floor, she was convulsing, her body a beacon of sickly, corrupted fire, her screams growing weaker. The proctor, an experienced Artisan, was frozen, his mind unable to comprehend what he was even witnessing. A spell backlash of this magnitude was unheard of.
Only two people in the entire arena understood what was happening.
Viktor Vane took a slow, deliberate step forward, a sadistic, triumphant smirk spreading across his face. His mission was complete. He was about to press his advantage, to deliver a 'merciful' final blow that would appear to be an act of ending her suffering, but would in reality ensure Aria's circuits were damaged beyond any hope of repair.
And me.
I didn't think. I didn't weigh the consequences. I simply acted. In a single, fluid motion, I vaulted over the stone railing of the spectator stands. The ten-foot drop to the sand below was nothing. I landed in a crouch, the impact absorbed by the steady power of the cadence, and burst into a sprint across the arena.
"Stop the match! Intruder in the arena!" the proctor's voice finally boomed, snapping him out of his stupor.
The crowd gasped, then roared, their shock at Aria's collapse turning into a new, frenzied excitement at this unprecedented breach of protocol. Guards stationed at the arena entrances began to move, their armor clattering, but I was already there.
I reached Aria just as Viktor was raising his gauntlet for the final, crippling blow. I ignored him completely, my focus a laser beam on the screaming, trembling girl. I dropped to one knee beside her, my mind a cold point of absolute focus in the heart of the storm. Her mana circuits were visibly glowing through her skin, pulsing with a sickly purple light, threatening to rupture.
"Aria, listen to me!" I commanded, my voice sharp and clear, cutting through her haze of pain. "Stop fighting it! You're feeding it! Let go of your mana. Release your control. Now!"
Through her agony, she must have heard the authority in my voice. She gasped, her body going limp for a split second, and the raging purple fire around her faltered. It was the opening I needed.
I placed my hand flat against her back. I didn't push my own mana into her; that would be like adding fuel to the fire. Instead, I did something far more delicate. I fully released my Rhythmic Circulation, projecting the Two-Heart Cadence not as a field of awareness, but as a gentle, guiding resonance that enveloped her.
My calm, steady, unified beat washed over her chaotic, raging Aether. It was like a perfectly tuned note being introduced to a storm of discordant noise. The Mana-Blight was a parasite, an alien rhythm that was forcing her own power into a self-destructive frenzy. I wasn't fighting the parasite. I was providing a stronger, more attractive, more fundamental rhythm for her own Aether to follow. It was like a tuning fork resonating with a discordant string, gently, irresistibly, forcing it back into harmony.
From my perspective, it was a battle. Her chaotic energy felt like a physical storm pushing against my hand, a wild, panicked thing trying to tear itself apart. I had to gently, firmly, guide it, not suppress it. The purple flames that licked at her skin flickered, fighting my influence, before they were slowly drawn into the cool, blue-white glow of my own power and dissipated harmlessly into the sand.
Aria's convulsions ceased. She slumped forward, unconscious, her breathing shallow but steady. The immediate danger was over.
It was only then that the world came rushing back in. I was surrounded. A dozen arena guards had their spears leveled at my chest. And standing before me, his face a mask of cold, controlled fury, was Sir Kaelen the Unbroken. The sheer pressure of his Grandmaster's aura pinned me in place, a silent, immovable wall of force.
Across from me, Viktor Vane stood with his arms raised in a gesture of innocence, a look of faux outrage on his face.
"This is an outrage!" Viktor shouted, playing his part perfectly for the judges and the now-silent crowd. "This… this brute from the West attacked my opponent in the middle of our match! He interfered! I demand he be arrested! He has brought shame upon this sacred tournament!"
"Silence," Sir Kaelen's voice boomed, and the entire arena seemed to tremble. His gaze was fixed on me, sharp and piercing as a shard of ice. "You have broken the most sacred rule of the tournament, Lord Ashworth. You have interfered in a sanctioned duel. Surrender yourself now, or you will be cut down where you stand."
My heart hammered in my chest, but my voice was calm. I slowly raised my hands, showing they were empty. "I did not interfere to attack, Sir Kaelen. I interfered to save a life."
"You will explain yourself to the Marquis," he snarled, his patience clearly gone.
"I will," I said, my voice ringing with a cold certainty that cut through the tension. "But first, I suggest you ask Lord Vane a question." I looked past the towering knight, my gaze locking onto Viktor's. "Ask him what he crushed in his gauntlet just before Lady Thorne's spell failed. Ask him about the 'Grave-Wort Alchemist' in the Gloom." I let the silence hang for a beat before delivering the final blow. "Ask him about 'Mana-Blight'."
The moment the words left my lips, Viktor's feigned outrage vanished, replaced by a flash of pure, reptilian panic. It was a flicker, a momentary loss of control, but in a man who was otherwise a perfect actor, it was a confession. It was all the confirmation Sir Kaelen needed.
The old knight's eyes widened, then narrowed into slits of pure fury. "Mana-Blight?" he whispered, the name of the forbidden substance like a curse on his tongue. He turned his head slowly, his gaze falling upon Viktor Vane with the weight of a collapsing mountain.
Viktor's face went pale. He took a single, instinctual step back, a fatal mistake.
"Guards," Sir Kaelen commanded, his voice a low, terrifying growl. "Seize him. Take him to the Marquis's chambers. Now."