Chapitre 74: I can't copy your magic
The world seemed to stop. My mind went blank, my magic flickering and stuttering like a dying flame. The crowd erupted into gasps and laughter, their voices distant and muffled as I tried to process what had just happened.
Mirra kissed me.
My cheeks burned, but not with embarrassment something more volatile stirred within me. It was a strange mix of anger and confusion, a searing heat that radiated from my core. My magic, usually under control, responded with an intensity I hadn't summoned.
Before I could fully register the shift, my red flames roared to life, surging forward as if they had a mind of their own.
The fiery tendrils lashed out toward Mirra, crackling with fury. She barely had time to react, her amber eyes widening in shock.
"Damn it!" she cursed, darting back with a leap that left her hovering just above the ground, her shadowy magic swirling protectively around her. The flames struck the edge of her barrier, hissing and spitting as they collided with the dark energy.
Mirra glared at me, a mix of irritation and curiosity in her expression. "Looks like this doesn't work on you," she muttered, brushing a hand across her lips. "I can't copy your magic."
I stared at her, still trying to shake off the haze of her earlier move. Copy my magic? What did that mean? My thoughts were interrupted as Mirra raised her hands again, dark tendrils spiraling outward.
"Fine," she said with a smirk. "Let's see how you handle this."
The crowd's excitement surged as she attacked, her shadows whipping through the air like vipers. I could feel the pressure in the room shift, the energy thick and oppressive.
But something had changed within me.
I raised my hands, channeling my fire into a more focused form. The flames danced and coiled, solidifying into a blade that glowed white-hot at the edges. It felt natural in my grasp, the heat humming in tune with my heartbeat.
Mirra hesitated, her confident smirk faltering as she watched me. "Oh, you've got tricks, huh?" she said, her tone a mix of sarcasm and caution.
I didn't respond. I couldn't waste energy on words not when the fight was still raging.
She launched forward, her shadows darting toward me like a storm of spears. I swung my flame blade, cutting through the tendrils with ease. The air shimmered with the clash of magic, the heat of my fire meeting the chill of her darkness.
Mirra growled in frustration, her attacks growing more erratic. I advanced, each swing of my blade forcing her back.
She was powerful at a distance, her shadow magic thriving when she could keep her opponent at bay. But up close, she was faltering.
I pressed my advantage, stepping into her range with a series of swift strikes. My movements felt sharper, more fluid, as if my training with Valeria and Elira had all been leading to this moment.
Mirra's frustration turned to desperation. She lashed out with a massive wave of shadow, the tendrils merging into a single monstrous force. I raised my blade, pouring more energy into it, and swung upward with all my strength.
The collision was explosive, the impact sending a shockwave through the room. Students staggered back, shielding their faces from the heat and force. Mirra was thrown off balance, her barrier flickering as she tried to regain control.
"You're not bad," she admitted through gritted teeth, sweat dripping down her temple. "But don't think you've won yet."
Her voice was defiant, but her movements betrayed her. She was slowing down, her attacks losing their precision.
I stepped forward again, closing the gap between us. My blade burned brighter, its heat intensifying with every swing. Mirra tried to dodge, but I anticipated her movement, adjusting my aim to cut through her defenses.
Finally, I saw an opening. With a burst of speed, I thrust my flame blade toward her core.
She raised her arms to block, her shadows forming a last-ditch shield. But my blade pierced through, the fire scorching the edges of her magic and forcing her to retreat.
She staggered back, her breaths ragged. Her amber eyes were wide, not with fear, but with a grudging respect.
"You..." she began, but before she could finish, her legs gave out beneath her. She crumpled to the ground, her magic dissipating into wisps of smoke.
Silence fell over the training grounds, broken only by the crackle of my flames. I let out a shaky breath, the tension in my body easing as I released the blade.
The fire dissipated, leaving only a faint warmth in the air.
The students stared, their expressions ranging from awe to disbelief.
"Well," Andor's voice broke the quiet, his tone as lazy as ever. "It was a good fight."
I turned to look at him, expecting some kind of acknowledgment or critique. But he was already lighting another cigarette, his attention drifting back to the wall he'd been leaning against.
The crowd began to murmur, their whispers and laughter filling the space as they processed what had just happened. I looked down at Mirra, still unconscious but breathing steadily.
For a moment, I felt a flicker of guilt. But then I reminded myself that she had been the one to push me, to provoke me.
This wasn't about malice it was about proving myself. And I had.
I straightened, wiping the sweat from my brow, and stepped back into the circle of students. They parted to let me through, their gazes following me as I walked.
My heart was still racing, but beneath the adrenaline, there was a growing sense of pride. I had fought and won against someone older, stronger, and more experienced.
But I also knew this was just the beginning.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone