The Kamar-Taj's Version of Battle Royal

As I looked around, my surroundings began to spin clockwise. The ground under my feet morphed into a wall, while the never-ending ceiling stretched sideways. Beneath me, the floor transformed into intricate layers of glass patterns, each one a geometric masterpiece. The whole scene felt like a tilted, surreal maze.

The strange weightlessness threw me off balance, but I quickly steadied myself using nearby ice and snow. Then I spotted Kaecilius—standing on the "wall," his battle stance weird but determined, and he was charging straight at me.

With a flourish, Kaecilius brought his hands together, then pulled them apart. An invisible blade appeared in his right hand, shimmering faintly. As he closed in, he raised his hand for a strike.

"Haha—nice! That's a killer spell!" I couldn't help but admire his technique. His invisible blade was a lot like Artoria's sword in form, but Kaecilius had woven mystical techniques right into the magic itself. His style wasn't so different from mine, honestly.

Sure, Kamar-Taj's mirage magic was impressive. But if he thought he'd pin me down with it, he was overestimating himself. As his blade swung down, it stopped mid-air, blocked by a thin shield of ice I'd summoned just in time.

"Is it my turn now?" I raised my left hand. Without any chants or fancy moves, a burst of frost erupted from within me. "Frost Nova!" I didn't need incantations for my ice magic anymore, though they did add a little extra punch when I wanted it.

Kaecilius, caught off guard, had been searching for a weakness in my ice shield. He barely managed to cover his head before he was frozen in place. My hand morphed into an ice spear, and just as I prepared to close in, he slipped free, teleporting away with a surge of mirage magic. His escape took him far across the battlefield, out of the ice's reach.

Kaecilius darted around, his movements a blur as he exploited mirage space, shifting his position unpredictably. My ice spear missed its mark, and suddenly, he reappeared just behind my left shoulder. With a beast-like leap, he lunged, aiming a fierce blow.

I swung up to block, deflecting him just in time, and then I countered. Dragon Cutter—my sword, cloaked in icy magic—glowed as I moved through flawless, practiced strikes, each thrust and parry smooth and precise. It only took five exchanges for Kaecilius to start slipping up, his movements lagging while I held back to avoid overpowering him completely.

"Why?!" he finally burst out, his voice a mix of frustration and disbelief as we clashed.

Since the age of seven, he'd poured everything into training, showing early talent, inheriting techniques, and working endlessly to earn his spot as the Ancient One's apprentice. He'd put in the hours, mastered skills, and risen to a high level in Kamar-Taj. And yet, here I was, someone new, an outsider, disrupting everything he'd worked for and shaking the pride he'd built up over the years.

He couldn't accept it. Not without a fight.

As the Ancient One watched with keen interest, she murmured, "Tina, assist him." The crowd around us buzzed with anticipation, unsure if she would step into the fight. After a hesitant pause, and with a subtle, encouraging smile from the Ancient One, Tina finally joined in, stepping onto the now frost-covered battleground that resembled an icy tundra. She drew her Staff of One—a mysterious artifact she wielded with considerable skill.

The Staff of One was powerful and versatile, requiring little magic from Tina herself. By simply uttering a word, the staff would release a unique, matching spell. But it came with one significant catch: she could never repeat a word, or it would trigger a dangerous backlash. This meant she had to be extra careful in a fight, making sure she remembered which words she'd already used.

"Moist Heat," Tina said softly. Instantly, the frozen wasteland shifted, replaced by a lush, tropical oasis. I noticed the change as I battled Kaecilius, who now seemed more like the novice here. I glanced at Tina, then at the staff she wielded, admiringly.

"Impressive!" I smirked, studying the staff. "It's based on some rule-bending magic, isn't it? Minimal energy output, but remarkable effects!" I knew exactly how it worked, its concept, and the ingenuity behind its design.

But while I admired the staff's creator, Tina herself, not so much, she looked tense and focused, beads of sweat forming as she carefully picked her next word, cautious not to make a mistake. That gave me an idea.

As I extended my hand, the air around me shimmered. With a flash of light, another Staff of One appeared in my grasp.

Tina's eyes widened in disbelief, thinking at first it was an illusion. But her doubts vanished as I said, "Arctic Cold." Instantly, the polar landscape returned, and Tina looked at her own staff to make sure she was still holding it.

The Ancient One nodded with appreciation. Each moment seemed to build her confidence in her choice.

"I can do this all day," I said, smiling. "I don't have the same restrictions as you do; I can recreate the staff and reuse any word I like."

The match was still a sparring session, not a serious duel, so I didn't expect Tina to use heavy-duty words that might turn the battle too much in her favor. But even so, she had to remember every word she'd already used, and it was clearly taxing her. Her apprentice scrambled to keep track, jotting down the words Tina spoke one after the other. It was almost funny—proof that despite its power, the Staff of One could be unwieldy. The human mind isn't a computer; keeping a mental list of dozens or hundreds of words quickly becomes overwhelming.

"Miss Kara," the Ancient One suggested, "perhaps a bit more force would serve you well. Still, if your version of the staff has no restrictions, refrain from overuse!" Her tone hinted at a bit of impatience, her way of urging us to pick up the pace without draining the exercise's purpose.

It didn't take long for me to realize the Ancient One was using this sparring session as a trial run for her students—and maybe even for herself. I stored my Staff of One and conjured an illusion to sidestep Kaecilius's sudden thrust, smoothly shifting position until I was right behind him. I gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder, murmuring, "Hey, you're fucked, dude." My tone was casual, like we were discussing something trivial.

This was my Death Compulsion spell, one of my black magic techniques. With just a simple suggestion, it could urge someone toward their own death. Besides that, I had other charms—Paralysis Compulsion, Madness Compulsion—but this one was particularly striking. Subtle and silent, it jolted Kaecilius like a bolt of lightning. He was flooded with visions, and a twisted look appeared on his face as he began nodding.

The memories of his losses flooded back: his son, his wife, and the refusal of the Ancient One to use the Eye of Agamotto to bring them back. Maybe it was time he joined them. With this new conviction, he turned the invisible blade he held inward, aiming it at his heart.

Tina, nearby, snapped to attention. She immediately reacted, her hand wrapping around a golden magic whip, and she managed to seize Kaecilius's hand, stopping him.

"What are you doing?" Kaecilius asked, horrified, staring at me like I was some sort of apparition.

"Your willpower needs more work, Kaecilius," I said, adopting a mentor-like tone that only seemed to make him more unnerved.

After that, I continued trading blows with both Kaecilius and Tina, managing to keep them at bay. I targeted Tina with a Paralysis Compulsion, catching her off guard; she stumbled but leaned on her staff to ground herself, fighting back with all her willpower.

"Seems like your will needs work too," I noted, smirking. The compulsion spells, effective against most, had less punch against seasoned magic users like her and Kaecilius. Tina focused, using the Staff of One to shield her mind, and Kaecilius grew warier, making them both harder to pin down.

Kaecilius used his experience to his advantage. The mirrored space distorted my movements, pulling me in all directions, while he added gravity shifts and spatial traps to keep me off balance. Just as I prepared to launch my next attack, he lashed a golden whip around my left arm, pinning me down. At the same time, Tina attacked from the opposite side.

Despite the challenges, I fought on, countering Kaecilius's traps and Tina's strikes. The Ancient One watched intently, her expression unreadable.

"Master Hamir," she called, turning to an elderly man with a topknot and a missing hand, his garb reminiscent of a Taoist sage. "Care to spar with my new student?"

"It's been ages since I've shown off my hidden arts," he replied, chuckling as he stepped in, ready to fight.

"Mr. Lucian, now's a good time to join in," she added, calling on another sorcerer, and she kept at it, inviting more of her elite students into the arena.

At first, I stayed calm. Kaecilius and Tina alone were like taking on kids; handling sixth-year students shouldn't take too much effort. But as more seasoned sorcerers piled in, things took a frustrating turn.

"Seriously?" I thought. "Here I am, casting two spells simultaneously while they bombard me with ten each. I'm fending off attacks from all sides, searching for an opening to strike back. Maybe I should use other elemental magic and my telekinesis, but nah, this is actually good practice. But damn this is annoying."

Whenever the pressure lessened, the Ancient One would send even more sorcerers my way, as if testing my limits. I was starting to think this was all some big display of dominance toward the new arrival.

I sighed. "This is getting ridiculous. You want me to try harder? Fine. But I'm holding back for a reason, you know." With my more destructive spells still in reserve, I decided to ramp up, trying to find a middle ground between caution and a show of force.

I chanted a quick spell, blending elemental magic: "Elemental Fusion, Nature's Myriad Forms—Frigid Cold, Vines Grow Wild—Vines of Azure Sentience!" As I spoke, I could feel the shift in the air. Suddenly, blue vines burst from the ground, their icy tendrils shooting out toward the surrounding sorcerers. They moved like ice serpents, winding and lunging with almost predatory intent. The sorcerers started to panic, spells faltering as they dodged the blue onslaught. A few top sorcerers managed to destroy some vines, but new ones grew instantly to replace them. The vines wrapped around robes, arms, and necks—freezing them in place, turning them into statues amid a forest of blue tendrils.

The battlefield quickly transformed from chaotic to downright eerie. But then, the Ancient One, looking way too pleased, cheered the others on. Encouraged by her, more sorcerers and apprentices piled in, some with golden shields like little islands in a storm. They actually managed to hold off my vines long enough to pull their friends out.

The Ancient One, smiling slyly, waved a folding fan and said, "What, just going to watch for Kamar-Taj's honor?" Instantly, the remaining disciples rushed in to fight. Suddenly, it wasn't just first-years versus sixth-years; even total novices had jumped in with sticks, ready to give me a beatdown.

What was supposed to be light sparring escalated fast. With attacks coming from all sides, I barely had any room to breathe, much less fight back. Ice spikes, blizzards, arrows, spears—I threw them all, but Kamar-Taj's defenses were solid. The few under my Compulsion Charms were quickly woken up by their teammates, making it nearly impossible to keep control.

"You guys just don't quit, huh?" I muttered, feeling frustration boil over. This had to end—now. "Reflective barrier on!" A shield flared around me briefly, then vanished, but it deflected every attack back at the attackers. That gave me a moment's breather, but I knew, I had to resort to my other elements just a bit, not cheating, right...I released a blinding pulse of electricity, leaving them stunned and disoriented. Then I transformed the ice into a dense, swirling mist, blanketing the battlefield and obscuring me from view. Under its cover, I sank into my shadows, slipping out from the encirclement.

Reemerging behind them, I chanted, "Nature's Myriad Forms—10 times Gravity!" A surge of black and purple energy radiated outward, thickening the air until a heavy, crushing force blanketed the courtyard. The gravity pressed down on everyone, driving most to their knees. Some staggered, sluggish, and struggling, while others simply collapsed, unable to bear the weight. With a final flourish, I froze the remaining vapor, locking them all in place within a glittering cage of ice and mist.

"Alright, alright! Can I call it quits?" I shouted, covered in dirt and grime. Thinking to myself, this was getting out of hand. It was a fine line between incapacitating and killing, something I normally do not care about. I used a water spell to clean up, then sighed and floated off the battlefield. 

The apprentices seemed relieved, probably feeling like they'd won, but really—what was there to brag about? Over ten high-ranking sorcerers had ganged up on me, and they hadn't even seen my full power. If I had prioritized, and taken out the strongest first, I would've cleared the field way faster.

The Ancient One watched, calm and amused. "Well done, everyone. It seems progress has been made," she said, her tone light but with that knowing edge.

I landed in front of her, visibly annoyed. "Was that supposed to be a sparring match? Since when does sparring involve more than a hundred people?"

The Ancient One chuckled softly. "Your reaction is completely normal. Young people should act like young people. Being overly mature and cautious—that's our job as older folks."

I crossed my arms, refusing to let her brush off my frustration. "This was supposed to be a sparring match. Instead, it felt like a marathon, and I wasn't exactly prepared to fend off a hundred people."

The Ancient One's gaze held that mix of amusement and insight. "It was also a test of character. I can observe you on the timeline all I want, but that's different. In those cases, you often determine the outcome. Here, you had more powerful—and very dangerous—magic you could've used at any time to end this."

I clenched my jaw, already anticipating her point. "Yeah, sure, but I wasn't trying to maim or kill innocent people."

A flicker of something crossed her face—approval? Maybe relief? I wondered if she'd pushed me this far to see what I'd do under intense pressure. Was she willing to sacrifice me to teach a lesson? But then, I realized she'd been right there the whole time, ready to intervene if things got out of hand.

She gave a faint smile, one that seemed to say, You passed the 'I'm not evil' test, though it was hard to tell with her. Then she turned to the other sorcerers who had gathered, some looking battered, others clearly shaken from the intense battle.

"You all," the Ancient One addressed them, her tone shifting to something more serious. "I have nothing against hard training, but never lose your humanity in the process. It's your humanity that keeps you resilient against temptations of all kinds."

I could see it now: she'd used me as a teaching tool. One, to remind the Kamar-Taj sorcerers about restraint. And two, to ground any inflated confidence I might've been feeling. It was a double win for her.

There was no denying my power. But if I wanted to be a force for good—or even engage in some hero work—I had to keep control and make wise choices...which to be honest is something I still need to work on. Because of my type of justice, being the dark one, I've ended up becoming the enemy in every universe I have been so far.

Despite my frustration with how the match had played out, I saw the lesson she'd woven into it all: harnessing power, handling high-stakes moments with care, and staying grounded in my humanity through it all.

"Understood," I muttered, feeling the weight of the lesson sink in.