4 Show me what you got!

Issac woke up to the morning sun shining through the window. It was the best night sleep of his life. The room he was given was lavish, with a full king size bed and plenty of space. In one of the corners, he spotted a workbench and a strange table with runes carved into it. He walked over to the table, curious to examine it further. As he approached, the runes started to glow a light blue and the symbol on the back of his hand matched their brightness.

A playful knock came from the door, interrupting his exploration. He turned around and opened the door, wondering who it was.

It was Azora, her brilliant smile was the first thing he noticed. On her right side, he saw a curled-up whip that looked like it was made of water. It flowed but kept its form, reflecting the light.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," she said cheerfully. "Are you ready?

"Good morning," he said, without much enthusiasm.

"Come on, we're meeting outside the church. We're going to have a friendly spar. I need to see how well you can fight, so I can make some battle plans," she said.

He sighed inwardly. His time here was short-lived. He wondered how he would ever explain this to anyone. He imagined the incredulous looks and the mocking laughter he would get if he ever told this story at a tavern. They would think he was a madman or a drunkard.

He nodded, trying to look stern. He might as well play along for now. He followed her as she skipped away from the door, heading towards his inevitable humiliation.

He walked beside her as she chatted away.

"I can't wait to see how everyone performs." She flashed him a grin and nudged his leg with her foot, trying to make him trip.

He was caught off guard and stumbled forward, barely keeping his balance. He glared at her as she laughed. She was getting on his nerves. Did she think she was being funny or charming? He wished he had never agreed to this. He only wanted a good night's sleep, and then he would be gone.

"Sorry, sorry," she said, still giggling.

"So, Isaac, what's Sadone like?" she asked, tilting her head.

He wondered how she knew the name of his village. But then again, she was an Oracle. She probably knew a lot of things.

"It's a small village on the coast, where everyone works as a fisherman or a lumberjack. It's isolated from the rest of the world. The people don't trust outsiders and keep to themselves. Most of them avoid anyone who doesn't belong there."

"It sounds like a tight-knit community," she said, nodding. "Nothing wrong with that."

He shook his head. "You wouldn't understand unless you've been there. I loathe it. I've always longed to escape."

"Why didn't you leave before?" she wondered.

He sighed, his voice tinged with regret. "My life was in the village, along with the few friends I had made. I thought about leaving once, taking what little I had and wandering around, trying to make a name for myself." He said.

She smiled at him. "It's admirable that you didn't want to leave your friends behind."

He looked away, feeling a pang of guilt. That wasn't the truth. He was too cowardly. He preferred to stay in his safe haven, away from the dangers of the world. That way he could survive.

They reached the grand doors that marked the entrance of the church. Azora opened them effortlessly, revealing the bright sunlight outside. He squinted his eyes for a moment. Beyond the church, there was a forest, with an arch leading to a long staircase that descended the hill. Trees flanked both sides of the path.

"Follow me," Azora said, heading to the side of the building.

He glanced at the church, or rather, the cathedral. It was too big to be called a church. He didn't know much about the difference, though. He was not a religious man.

He followed Azora as she took him to the side of the cathedral, where a large field lay. The others were already there, waiting for them. As they got closer, The Watcher appeared out of thin air next to Azora. He jumped, trying to get a glimpse of the man. He kept his gaze forward, and they joined the group. Erriana had changed her clothes from the night before. She wore a white tee shirt that was slightly too loose for her, and black shorts. She pulled them off well. Matthaus looked like he was about to explode, he was too restless for this. Vice looked cool and calm, scanning the area.

"Alright, you know the drill. We're going to have a friendly sparring match. No killing, okay?" Azora said, looking around. "So, who wants to go first?"

"I do!" Matthaus exclaimed, raising his hand.

"Good luck," Azora said. She waited for a beat, but no one else stepped up. She spoke again.

"Vice, how about you be his opponent?" She asked.

"Sure," He said, with a smirk.

They moved to a safe distance and faced each other in the middle of the field.

"Show me what you got!" Azora yelled.

"I consent to the terms of this duel," Matthaus announced.

"I consent to the terms of this duel," Vice replied, adjusting his glasses.

Matthaus sprinted towards Vice, closing the gap in an instant. He swung his fist with all his strength, aiming for Vice's face. But before he could land the hit, a barrier materialized around Vice. It was a white circle made of many pentagon-like shapes. It blocked the force of the punch. Matthaus jumped back, creating some space between them. Vice stood there, unmoved, staring at his opponent. The barrier faded.

"Spells without incantations, you're very skilled," Matthaus said.

"Your blow was no joke either," Vice said.

Issac felt a surge of fear as he watched them. They were like monsters, not human.

"I'll go full strength next, be careful," Matthaus said.

"Come when you're ready," Vice said.

Matthaus rushed forward again, his sword flew out of its scabbard on its own. Thunder roared, and electricity sparkled around the blade. He gripped it in his hand, and swung it horizontally at Vice's side. Vice's eyes widened. He raised his barrier again. The sword slammed into it with a loud bang, followed by a shattering noise.

The sword swiped through Vice's body, but he just smiled. Vice started to fade away and appeared behind Matthaus, he extended his hand and a great force of wind erupted. It howled so loud Issac couldn't hear himself think, but Matthaus just stood his ground. Shock found its way to Vice's face.

"Not good," Azora muttered, frowning.

"What's going on?" Isaac wondered.

"That's a high-grade Force spell, but Matthaus hasn't moved an inch. As a mage, he should have kept his distance and attacked from afar. Matthaus was too fast to close the gap, so Vice set a trap. It looks like it won't work out as he hoped," Azora said, watching the fight closely.

He felt a surge of panic in his chest. He was going to die. He glanced at Erriana, hoping she wasn't one of these monsters.

Matthaus let out a loud scream. Lightning burst from his body, destroying the surroundings. Some of it flew towards Vice.

"Shit, it's heading my way," Vice thought. He canceled his spell and dodged. As soon as the wind ceased, Matthaus dashed forward again, his eyes fierce, electricity crackling around him.

Vice leaped back, a ball of magma formed in his hand. He aimed his palm at the ground and spun around in an instant. The magma seeped into the earth, and a fiery wall of flames rose around Vice, at least ten feet high.

Matthaus didn't slow down, he ran through the fire like a madman. He slammed his shoulder into Vice, pushing him through the other side of the flames.

Vice was on the ground, covered in burns, moaning in pain. Matthaus towered over him, his sword aimed at his face. The electricity sparked and sizzled on the metal of the blade. His armor was charred and melted in many places, exposing a lot of burns on his skin.

"I give up," Vice said faintly.

Matthaus released his sword and it flew back to its scabbard. He collapsed backwards and landed on the ground. His body was also in bad shape.

Was that it? How did that happen? Issac could barely see anything. He was crazy, completely insane. He didn't care at all about being scorched by those flames. Issac thought to himself that someone made a huge, huge mistake.