Piddruin had yet to break a sweat. His breathing was steady – unlike Riniock, whose dual-element casting was clearly taking a greater toll.
As the standoff stretched, Piddruin exhaled.
'Your use of frost spells is rather odd. I didn't know it was possible to convert a wind spell into a frost one mid-cast…'
'I have your academy to thank for that.'
'Oh?' he raised a brow in surprise.
'I found the trick in one of your library's books.'
Piddruin clicked his tongue, as if recognising the exact type of tome Riniock had stumbled upon. Shifting back into an offensive stance, he didn't strike right away – instead, he began preparing something.
Riniock's eyes widened.
He recognised the nature of the spell immediately. He'd seen it once before, in one of the Absconder's cabins – during his battle with Arthian.
The air around the Ikshari shimmered. Heat surged outward in waves, and tongues of fire curled along the rocky floor beneath his feet.
But unlike that day on the ship, Riniock held firm. Sweat rolled down his skin, his vision blurred, and the pressure weighed on him – but he didn't budge.
Piddruin, however, didn't tremble like Arthian had. This wasn't a desperate attempt – it was measured, deliberate.
The searing energy surrounded him like a perfect shell, a barrier of fire that kept Riniock from making any reckless moves against him.
'You recognise this technique,' Piddruin said, his voice darkening. 'Arthian…He did not deserve to die. That's something I won't forgive.'
Riniock remained silent.
If this technique was anything like Arthian's, it would prove difficult to deal with. One thing was certain: it was costly – devouring odh as quickly as fire consumes dry parchment.
He acted first.
To test Piddruin's defence, Riniock launched two rapid spells – wind and frost in swift succession. Both shots flew straight at him, but upon contact with the fiery barrier, they dissolved instantly. The odh within them vanished, dispersed into the heat-heavy air.
Piddruin moved with precision. With a subtle motion, his barrier vanished – just long enough to hurl a fireball towards Riniock. The moment the spell left his hand, the barrier flared back to life, as if it had never dropped.
Riniock dodged, choosing to conserve his odh rather than conjure a ward. But the decision proved reckless. His hesitation gave Piddruin the opening he needed to close the gap – and with the fiery aura still radiating around him, the searing heat scorched Riniock's skin on contact.
He winced, the sensation like standing beneath a collapsing sun. He stepped back quickly, trying to create distance and regain control. Piddruin saw the opening and pounced.
Dropping the barrier again, he unleashed a barrage of explosive spells at point-blank range.
Had Riniock not summoned a ward at the last moment, the onslaught would have torn through him. The blasts left the surrounding rock scorched and torn, earthen mounds ripped from the ground.
Riniock was thrown back, skidding along the tunnel floor, a shallow trench marking the path of his fall.
'If you think I'm as weak as the other Iksharis you've fought,' Piddruin said, advancing, 'you're in for a world of pain.'
He didn't stop casting. Every word came with a spell, each one a relentless strike.
But just as his streak seemed to peak, it broke.
Riniock had had enough of playing defense, of being tossed around like a ragdoll. He threw himself clear of the blast zone and seized a brief window to retaliate.
With a sharp wave of his hand, a cluster of frost spikes erupted at Piddruin's feet.
His barrier wasn't up.
The icy spikes stabbed through, tearing into him at several points before he could raise the shield again.
'Bastard…' Piddruin shouted. 'I'll have your head!'
Riniock seized the moment.
With a sharp motion, he hurled larger, sharper icicles than before. They collided with Piddruin's spell midair, evaporating on impact. But this time, Riniock noticed something different.
Every time something struck the searing barrier, Piddruin winced – his face tightening, as if the strain was beginning to weigh on him.
Riniock masked his satisfaction behind a calm expression.
'You know,' he began, voice steady, 'I never actually saw Arthian die.'
Piddruin kept his distance, circling, listening warily. 'What's that supposed to mean?'
'The last time I saw him, I left him sinking into the sea. Crippled – too broken to swim. Can you picture it?' Riniock continued. 'Sinking helplessly to the bottom…your last breath slipping away…your vision darkening…knowing there's nothing you can do.'
'You bastard!' Piddruin roared. 'You're a sick bastard. A murderous and sick bastard.'
Rage consumed Piddruin – raw, unrestrained fury.
As he lowered his barrier to strike, Riniock struck first. A gust of wind blasted him off his feet, sending him skidding across the clearing.
More followed, pushing him back towards the wall.
That didn't mean Piddruin simply took the blows. Whenever Riniock's barrage slowed, he retaliated. But whilst Piddruin fired back with precision, Riniock often took the hits directly – either tanking them with his body, failing to dispel them in time with his own projectiles.
If he was going to win, he had to make sacrifices.
And he endured.
Fire licked his clothes, scorched his skin, but still he pressed forward. Slowly, steadily, Piddruin was forced back – until finally, his back met stone.
Riniock changed targets. He stopped aiming at Piddruin and began striking the ceiling above. Chunks of debris rained down. But each stone that touched the searing aura around Piddruin vanished on contact.
Until the flicker came.
The barrier stuttered – flickering in and out of existence – until, at last, it collapsed.
That was the moment Riniock shifted tactics again. To quell flame, he needed frost.
A hail of icy spells surged forward – icicles, flurries, all forms of frozen magick.
They melted on contact, dissolving into droplets that splashed against Piddruin and hissed into steam. Yet the steam lingered, thickening around him.
Desperate, Piddruin let out a scream and unleashed a wave of fire. It cracked through the air, struck Riniock dead-on, and dropped him to one knee.
Battered, bleeding, Piddruin gasped for air. His eyes, wide and wild, locked onto Riniock.
'Damn fucker…' he growled, gathering power for a final, explosive spell. 'I'm nearly drained of odh.'
Riniock raised a hand and tossed a weak frost spell. Piddruin slapped it aside, flames curling around his fingers.
Mist bloomed from the impact, vapour rising all around.
Riniock grinned.
Piddruin turned his head just in time to see the sparks gathering, coiled around his finger like streaks of serpents.
With a hand trembling but charged, Riniock murmured, 'Don't blink!'
The lightning spell erupted – blinding, immediate. It lanced into Piddruin and linked itself to the mist in the air. Chains of lightning danced through the vapour, wrapping around him like a web.
He convulsed violently, held upright only by the current.
Then, silence.
The light faded. What remained was ruin – limbs and fragments strewn across the floor. Piddruin was gone, annihilated.
Riniock staggered forward, dragging himself through the debris. His eyes scanned until they locked onto something.
A severed hand.
He picked it up with a grimace, raising it to eye level. 'With the right hand down…only the snake remains.'
Cradling it like a prize, he carefully prepared it.
He opened a box, whispering a name – a destination.
The hand and the box vanished.
Riniock collapsed, body refusing to move any longer. Flat on his back, he exhaled.
'Well, fuck…'