บท 57: Chapter 55
Adalbert.
"Blondie."
Stepping forward, I reached my hand into the box, immediately noting that Semiramis had somehow both conjured and enchanted it so thoroughly that even Dumbledore couldn't peek inside. Thanks to some kind of spatial distortion, I couldn't catch a glimpse of any other numbers through the wide slot. Without that distortion, I might have thought Siduri had just been careful enough when drawing her slip not to turn over the others.
"Two," I said, showing the slip to the long-eared one.
"Two… oh, the irony continues. Next."
In the end, the tournament bracket was… interesting.
I was paired with the Chinese boy, with whom I'd developed an instant mutual dislike — probably because we recognized something familiar in each other.
The Japanese girl would face Sergio. The winner of their duel would go up against me, provided I could handle my Chinese opponent, who had actually trained with a great witch.
Given the test results, though, I might be overestimating my competition.
In the other bracket, Siduri was up against the Egyptian, and Yaroslav would face off against Izzat, the apprentice of that guest of King Solomon… There was a movie or a story from one of our teachers about that…
The first lucky contestants to be ushered onto the sizable arena — about two-fifths the size of a stadium and surrounded by an invisible yet impenetrable barrier — were Yaroslav and Izzat, who had drawn the first two numbers.
"Well then, let's see what they've taught you," Yaroslav said, cracking his knuckles to try and intimidate his opponent.
A decent tactic, at first glance. The other boy looked weak and unsure of himself. No matter how brilliant he was, if he hesitated to use that brilliance, he'd be as ineffective as an uncast spell. However… appearances can be deceiving, and who would know that better than Yaroslav?
"I am satisfied with my training," the boy replied without any reaction, letting his opponent know just how little he cared.
"Oh really? Let's see if it holds up in practice," Yaroslav sneered. "Oh, we will see…"
"Had enough talking? Perfect. Go forth, our gladiators, and fight!" Semiramis snapped her fingers, dispelling the visible barrier of compressed wind between them.
Yaroslav immediately unleashed several spells at a level far beyond his age and Durmstrang course level. Madam Romanova would've fought tooth and nail to bring someone like him into the school's main combat division. But alas, an older, more experienced lady had already claimed him.
Still, his opponent wasn't weak either, despite appearances. A complex multi-layered shield of mostly unfamiliar spells materialized in a semicircle before the apprentice of the Queen of Sheba. The orange beams met the first line of defense — a pattern of dark arcs arranged in a twisted star shape — and shattered it with the sound of cracking glass. While the shield dissipated, Yaroslav's attack lost a substantial portion of its force before colliding with a shimmering, translucent half-dome of dark energy.
The follow-up blasts cracked the dome but didn't break through.
Dismissing his shield, Izzat moved his fingers rapidly, each ring-adorned one twisting into intricate gestures. Whatever he was casting seemed powerful, and Yaroslav realized he wasn't just stalling but preparing a serious spell with the help of a unique catalyst: a set of ten rings.
Now, a new volley of red-and-white beams erupted from Yaroslav's wand, streaking toward the Arab (his looks suggested so, though his nationality hadn't been specified by his mentor). A series of artifact shields, which Semiramis had not prohibited, blocked the oncoming attack.
"Ieazafo Gapflo!" Izzat chanted, his voice louder than necessary, and dozens of flickering, rainbow-colored spears formed around him. They looked like static-filled screens, covered in pixelated colors, as if from a broken monitor.
A Light spell — powerful, too. I'd only be able to counter it with a couple of my strongest spells. Light magic is rare and excellent against Dark Magic, but rather weak against standard magic — a double-edged sword, like all types of magic.
The spears shot toward Yaroslav, and for a moment, a blinding explosion, about ten meters in diameter, lit up the arena. I squinted against the glare. Using a defense artifact would be overkill for such a minor goal.
"Well done… weakling," Yaroslav's raspy voice emerged, and he soon followed, standing firm despite his singed, tattered clothes. "Petrificus Totalus."
A flash of his spell struck the stunned Light wizard.
"Your hit was strong, but I calculated it all. I took out your artifact shields and just had to survive yours. To be honest, without my own artifacts, my teacher would be dragging me out on a stretcher right now."
"Yes, you won, but show a bit more respect for your elders…" Yaga responded, as pleased as a litter of cats.
"We have our victor, though the fight was unfortunately short. Yaroslav moves on to the next round, and a certain witch may want to improve her tutoring," Semiramis announced with a sarcastic edge. "Next up is the second pair: Miyoko versus Sergio. Step into the arena, jesters!"
Semiramis couldn't resist reminding us of our role here as her entertainment. A tad annoying, but…
One can't be mad at the truth.
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