Bael raised his head back up, slowly turning to face the enemy approaching.

  A human. Large build for their kind. Well equipped, clearly comfortable with a blade and armor.

  No arcanonaught suit, which meant this human was already resigned to dying.

  Any other day, Bael would have been surprised to see such a thing. Today was not any other day.

  And before Bael could think of anything else, Wade was already rolling off the ground in that strange insane way that he could. The moment he was out of the roll, his hand drew out that earth-wand-weapon and a deafening crack sounded out.

  The enemy ahead tilted his head slightly, bemused. Something further off the bone walls far behind cracked, and Bael saw traces of lightning there.

  "What?" Wade hissed. "That's bullshit, I hit him dead center."

  Bael wasn't certain what was going on, but Wade caused the weapon in his hand to crack off four more times, each time some bone further behind off angle from the approaching mortal broke apart.

  The last hit, Bael could see a faint flicker of a mana deflection appear off the armor. It would mean wards on the armor had triggered and forced a… projectile? Forced it off track at least, off to the sides. So it really did work as the mortal had told him. More like a sling or an arrow.

  "Everything okay over there?!" Medy called out, still holding the mana wall in place to block the pathway of the larger beast behind. "What's going on?"

  "An enemy." Bael said, turning to face the approaching man. "I'll handle him. Wade. Handle the wheel."

  "You sure?" Wade asked, slowly taking a few steps backwards.

  "I am." He wasn't. But Bael didn't want the mortal fighting, that would run a far higher risk of him dying than simply turning the wheel.

  That meant he had to handle this himself.

  The enemy swung his blade ahead of him in an arc, enchantments powering it up fully. A display of power. Showing off the superiority of his blade. How much the runes were able to handle.

  Hubris in this mortal. That could be exploited.

  Bael drew a hand near the hilt of his own sword, answering the unworded challenge. "What can you tell me of this mortal? You seem to know him."

  "Uh, he's mimicking the appearance of a friend. A shapeshifter." Wade started. "And he's going to be able to do things like I do them."

  "Physics defying?" Bael slowly drew out the earth-blade.

  "Yeah. Expect bullshit."

  The man opened his mouth and words Bael couldn't understand flowed out. A low throat-like chanting, the tone of which already sounded like derision and hatred condensed into a language of its own.

  "Explain what he can do." Bael fully extended the blade out, and slowly lifted it into position for enchantments. "Be quick about it."

  "He's going to be able to hit with a sword really hard. And if he stands still after an attack, the damage he deals gets magnified. Maximum five seconds."

  "That… makes absolutely no sense."

  "How much of all this actually does?"

  "…Fair." He focused his sight instead on what the enemy had equipment wise. At least that part he could understand.

  The enemy's blade was clearly forged with excellent runes and sturdy metal, Bael would consider it an apex piece. Likely a smith's most premium blade offerings - but it was built for an environment where mana was limited. Specialized for it.

  Bael's own blade had no runes, and that was obvious from a distance given the sneer the man held staring back at him. Waiting.

  But what this earth-forged blade had instead was raw purity and perfection.

  He brushed a hand over the sleek metal to enchant it with free magic. Breathing life into it.

  Lethal edge.

  Inertia control.

  Impact.

  Mana disruption.

  He kept casting spell after spell. The metal was strong. The blade would resist more. He let his years of smithing guide his instincts on how much he could overload this blade.

  With each enchantment, the man's features slowly went from gloating to serious.

  Each rune system would handle one enchantment in a typical blade. A pre-written enchantment, requiring only power supplied into it. Bael was laying dozens of variable enchantments on the earth-blade, far above what would have shattered anything he could have forged himself, abusing the strengths of free magic - adaptability and flexibility.

  In this realm where mana was uncapped, he didn't need to care for being efficient. Only powerful.

  And the blade in his hand remained whole and unbroken after all the energy he channeled into it. It was truly flawless metalcraft. If there had been even a single slag pocket within it, the blade would have shattered into fragments.

  Bael nodded at the crackling blade, then took a stance, sword tip pointed at the enemy ahead.

  The man's head frowned, looking down at his own blade for a moment before back up.

  More words flowed from the man, but the emotions were far more clear - Hatred. Anger. Superiority.

  Not a trace of fear. Which was unnatural. All mortal kind had faint traces of fear when faced with any fight. Some hid it better, others could hide it from even themselves, and a few races instinctively felt far less.

  This was beyond unnatural for a human.

  Certainly a shapeshifter. Or abusing a mind-altering drug from an alchemist. Dangerous, that.

  The man slapped a hand on his armor, and Bael saw the typical recharge phase. He mirrored it on his own side, left hand holding onto his demonic plate, forcing attuned mana within it.

  Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

  The process of forcing mana into the armor was the difficult part, once it was there, all it needed was to be nearby Bael's influence in order to be turned on.

  Generally, among warriors, fights were one of attrition. Both sides had a limited amount of mana they could burn through safely.

  Here… they could continually recharge their armors as many times as they wished.

  He hadn't been in a situation like this before, despite having lived centuries, but he could already tell what the fight would be like.

  The victor would be the one who could prevent the other from recharging their armor.

  Which meant neither side could allow the other more than three seconds of free time. They'd need to be hyper-aggressive the entire fight.

  The shapeshifter had a far more advanced armor. The runes there were more dense, and higher quality. An armor made for nobility even.

  Bael's was standard gear, with only one set of runes for the most basic arcane ward. It wouldn't hold even an tenth the charge that the enemy would.

  But he could recharge his armor far faster due to the simplicity of it. And Bael's earth-forged enchanted blade would hit with blows powerful enough to equalize their fight.

  The man flickered his blade, then sheathed it, a hand extended out, waving him forward.

  …

  Was the man boasting? Here?

  Bael snorted.

  If the man decided to toy around in a boast, that would be between him and his gods.

  "Oh, shit." Wade hissed behind, grunting as he started to push the bridge in Bael's steed. "If he's sheathed his blade, the first attack's ending will do some kind of area of effect attack, heads up!"

  Bael dove forward at the same moment. Mana flared through his legs, empowering his leap. Even before he'd begun, he was already spinning on himself, his breath steadily exhaling a cloud of attuned mana around him as he flew right for the enemy.

  Not even a quarter of the way at the enemy proper, Bael's field of control was prepared and locked in place around him.

  All these years later, and he could still fight as he had before.

  Then, almost at the same moment as his own field was complete, he felt himself collide against the enemy's.

  Ten feet away from the caster.

  Impossible.

  And yet Bael felt the currents of mana that were under foreign control colliding against his own smaller cloud of command, revealing the true range his enemy possessed.

  It was vast to an absurd point.

  And a moment later, the fight was on.

  His blade wove and spun through the air, calculations of combat and angle speaking to him in sharp sounds of metal slicing into metal. The old bloodsong began in the back of his mind.

  His field of control was smaller than the enemy, but at this distance it didn't matter. Every move the man did, Bael could sense it as the mana around him was disrupted. He knew his own movements were being tracked the same way by the enemy, sensing where he was, where his blade moved.

  What was more important now was raw skill and having the better plan.

  Bael's own bladework was better, taking hit after hit off the enemy's shield, easily controlling the pace of the fight. Punishing every mistake.

  Not much of a surprise to Bael. He may be long retired from duels of this nature, but he was still a demon. He'd lived several lifetimes, fighting without fear of death, learning all the while. His experience greatly crushed the enemy ahead.

  The enemy was overly confident. The bladework was something that would fit more powerful and heavier blades, which made little sense to Bael. And worse, the man didn't adapt to his tools.

  He also fought with hyper aggression, as if his armor's shields were infinite. Anytime there was a chance to trade damage, the man would take it. Defense pulled out only when Bael was moving too quickly for him to counter attack.

  Perhaps this man really was on mind-altering drugs. He certainly didn't ever pause in place or stop moving for a single instant.

  Technically, shields could be infinite in this realm. But the enemy would need time and focus in order to recharge his armor, something Bael would execute the enemy if they tried. One couldn't both recharge the shield and trigger it. The man would need to run a desperate personal defense, which would interrupt the rest of his casting - specifically the field of control. Bael would then be able to easily weave his blade past the defense where the man couldn't see.

  Each time Bael's blade bit into the enemy's exposed armor, the mana drain cost to keep his earth-forged blade away was significant.

  And then what Wade had warned him would happen, happened.

  The man struck forward, landed a heavy blow that Bael allowed through in exchange for several of his own. An excellent four for one trade, which was further magnified by Bael's blade dealing far more damage for each of those four hits.

  The man launched himself backwards in the same attack, landing further off, one hand slapping his plate to recharge it, while the rest of his body froze in his landing pose.

  Bael snorted, diving after. There were strong chances this might have been the last mistake the enemy made.

  A hundred slices came out of the man's surrounding, all around in a sphere. As if he'd slashed his blade in random directions, all at once.

  Bael took the damage head on, caught by surprise. He hadn't even seen them come in his field of control, no warning. He was forced to back out, letting his armor take the hits, mana whisking away within the metal.

  The mortal remained frozen in his pose, hand slowly recharging the plate all the while.

  Fine. Bael would recharge his own armor, and then be back to full and attacking again before the man could even sink even half the mana Bael's attacks had drained. This was a fool's gambit, and the man was dead already if he committed to this strategy.

  Except… Bael's shields were still active, mana draining away all the while. As if continuously preventing an attack. Right where the earlier air slashes had landed.

  And if he stands still after an attack, the damage he deals gets magnified. Maximum five seconds.

  The physics defying bullshit. Bael's mind raced through the options.

  He couldn't recharge his armor while it was being actively drained. So instead, he charged forward at once, one hand extended out to fire off a few quick arcane bolts forward.

  The man shaped his field of control around him, forcing the mana to turn into a dense molasses of power, dissipating Bael's attempt. All the while he continued to recharge his shield, and held the stance that kept Bael's own shields engaged.

  Bael reached the man a moment later, sword slicing down. At this point, the man was forced to interrupt his System-granted power while standing still.

  But Bael was now on the back foot.

  His enemy could continually escape, and slowly recharge his armor second by second, while Bael would be taking damage on his own armor, preventing him from matching the enemy.

  They traded further slashes, Bael now focusing on defending himself against any damage. And the moment he took any kind of hit, the man would leap far backwards, land with a hand on his armor to recharge, and hold his position. The damage of that single attack would grow on Bael's side, forcing him to chase after the man instead of recharging his own.

  He'd catch up with the mortal quickly, but that combination of sheathing and drawing the blade gave the enemy an opening attack that Bael simply couldn't parry or block, only dodge backwards, which would give the man that chance again.

  On the third recharging run like this, Bael decided to take a gamble: Recharge his own shields right this moment.

  He took his own distance, diving further away, waiting out the five seconds that Wade claimed the damage magnification would continue. And when he felt his armor stop draining mana away, he slapped his hands to power the armor back up, hoping he had enough distance to get at least one or two seconds of charge.

  The gamble failed.

  Not because he wasn't able to recharge his armor back to full, but the opportunity cost - he wasn't protecting anyone anymore, nor keeping the enemy focused in a fight.

  The shapeshifter used a mana empowered leap and raced across the bone - directly for Medy.

  She saw it coming, hyperventilating as she realized she'd be caught in a fight. The wall behind her wavered. The monster scrabbled at it further, as if sensing a weakpoint.

  "Medy, abort the wall!" He called out instead, committing to powering his armor back to full. She could handle herself. The real danger would have been if the enemy had gone after Wade.

  "Oh gooooood HELLL-" She was cut off halfway through with a scream, already racing away to keep herself from getting bit in half by the monster she'd been keeping at bay.

  And exactly what Bael had hoped would happen, happened - the monster was now closer to the shapeshifter than to Medy. Which meant it would come after him instead of her.

  ... It didn't.

  Bael swore under his breath.

  The monster completely ignored the shapeshifter as if the mortal wasn't even there, racing after Medy. She screamed in panic, trying to get away, throwing every trick she had to survive.

  All while the mortal enemy started walking, directly for Wade. Sword drawn out, chortling to himself.

  Bael made a choice. Defend Wade or defend Medy. He had to pick Wade.

  And he heard that throat-like language again, but this time… it came from Wade. The human had stopped raising the bridge, and was now walking forward to meet the enemy, that strange language coming out, as if mocking the enemy.

  Who equally answered back in that disturbing language. Laughing.

  They were trading barbs.

  "I got this." Wade said, "Go help Medy! Go, go go!"

  "Mortal?" Bael asked for a split second.

  Wade spat to the side, a bit of blood mixed in, the mana necrosis clearly near the terminal phase. "Don't worry. " The mortal wiped his mouth with a sleeve, then spat again to clear his mouth. "I got a plan."