In a spectacular showcase of firepower, Nia simultaneously launched beams of every element imaginable at Thomas. They rained down on him like artillery strikes, wreaking havoc on all that stood in his vicinity. Pillars of rock smashed into the earth; lofty waves came crashing down; dark storm clouds hovered over the battlefield; wildfires spread through the chaos; plants caught in the midst were revived by rays of luminescence, only to wither again in the malodorous haze that followed.

  It was a symphony of devastation, the elf its maestro and her Gift the full ensemble.

  While the man didn't fear for his life, he did labour to move around lest he tripped over the ravaged terrain and actually lost the match. Deftly, Thomas negotiated the obstacles in his way, ducking under, leaping over, and even busting through the conjured hurdles in his path. In spite of his musclebound frame, he was rather quick and agile, thanks to more than a decade of martial arts training. Still, unlike the orc, the man's energy was finite, and he was beginning to feel the fatigue kick in.

  As Thomas fought to stay on his feet, Nia summoned a staircase of floating pebbles and effortlessly ascended them high above the mayhem she orchestrated. From her elevated vantage, she surveyed the landscape—the manner in which it warped and deformed. And her eyes fell upon the pitiful dot that darted about it. "I suppose it's about time I ended this," the elf uttered, lifting her arm, hand splayed toward the heavens.

  Specks of light converged at the base of her palm. Gradually, they coalesced into a pulsating, violet sphere—an incandescence that entranced all who beheld it. It ballooned into roughly the volume of a small moon, barely able to shackle the volatile energies that hissed and thrummed beneath its shimmering veneer. And the man skidded to a halt, gaping at the lesser sun that had manifested in the sky.

  "I... I'm not dreaming that right now, am I?"

  Unbeknownst to Thomas, the orb looming over him contained none of the six elements. It was instead mana in its purest form—particles so potent and dense they were visible to the naked eye. It was a matter previously thought beyond the bounds of possibility, now tightly packed into a ball. From behind the rock, Gretchen, who had given the out-cold Lilith a lap pillow, uneasily peeked at the whole ordeal. Frightened by the light works, she prayed her friend would rouse from her unconscious state.

  "N-never have I seen Nia go all out like this. This guy must be the real deal. Actually... are we even safe from that thing?!"

  When the bubble attained critical mass, Nia took one last look at the man; her expression was serene, but her voice faintly tremored with exhilaration as she addressed him. "It's been a while since I could let loose like this... I hope for your sake that ward of yours holds up..." With nowhere to run and nowhere to hide, Thomas could only plant himself on the crumbling floor beneath him and steel himself for what was to come.

  Gliding her hand downward, the elf flung the sphere at the man. A hush descended over the plains as the orb tumbled toward the earth like a falling star. And when the ball touched Thomas, a blinding flash consumed the scenery. Seismic pressure, enough to obliterate an entire village, lay waste to the grasslands. Trees were uprooted, and boulders went flying as a cataclysmic shockwave rocked the surrounding lands.

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  Shelter blown away by the powerful gust, the orc thrust her stave into the dirt to anchor herself and held on for dear life, seizing the halfling by the scruff of her neck. Oscar, sound asleep atop his carriage with a newspaper draped over his face, was jolted awake and thrown off his seat by the blast. Even the headmaster in his office, mid-sip of his afternoon tea, noticed the surface of his drink ripple.

  And from her aerial perch, Nia overlooked the full scale of the spell's ruin. A barren wasteland was all that remained—a deep crater carved into the flesh of the wilds, its craggy rim molten and charred. The waves had evaporated into a veil of steam that cloaked the impact site. Gretchen's shoulder heaved as she gasped for breath and loosened her fingers around her rod, clutching Lilith's collar behind her. It was an armageddon of epic proportions.

  Taking the silence that ensued as her victory, the elf shrugged.

  "I suppose not even he could withstand the intensity of concentrated mana. Perhaps I expected too much from him. Oh well." Preparing to descend, however, Nia's ears twitched. Footfalls echoed from the heart of the basin. Impressed, the elf felt a smirk tug the corner of her lips. Loafers muddied by the damp earth, the man stepped out of the mist. Not only had he survived the attack, but he stood completely uninjured and only somewhat disoriented.

  Since there was no point in prolonging this fight, Nia tipped backwards and plunged off her foothold.

  "He really is a strange man," she mouthed as she accelerated toward the ground, gazing at the shafts of sunlight that pierced through the retreating gloom.

  "H-hey, watch out!"

  Abruptly, her torso made a springy landing sooner than she'd anticipated, the force of her drop arrested by a pervading warmth. It was only when her violet eyes fluttered open that the elf realised the position she was in. Thomas had caught her in his strong arms—one under her legs and the other supporting her back. And losing his balance, the exhausted man's legs buckled.

  "Are you okay?" Winded but worried, Thomas checked up on the girl.

  Inches away from his rough-hewn visage, Nia's heart stirred ever-so-slightly. For a brief moment, they stared at one another.

  "Mm... I was going to cushion my fall with a blast of wind..."

  "O-oh, you still had mana? Thank heavens," the man let out a sigh of relief. "I thought you'd blacked out like Lilith..."

  Momentarily taken aback by his sincere concern, the elf stood up and confronted him with her nose in the air. "Putting that aside, aren't you flat on your bottom right now?"

  "Ah..." It then dawned on Thomas that he had inadvertently lost the game. An hour had not passed since their match, and Nia's mana reserved had not depleted, yet he was still knocked off his feet. Crushed by his unwitting defeat, he buried his face in his hands and groaned. "Darn it! I got too careless toward the end! I was doing so well, too..."

  Amid his despair, the elf allowed herself a small, fleeting smile. "Well, I had no intention of continuing this battle of ours when you persevered that attack. So, I suppose you could say, I lost the will to fight."

  And registering her words, the man bounced back up and leaned forward. "Huh, really?! Then, doesn't that mean..."

  "It's your win... Professor."

  The title hung in the air like a benediction, and Thomas felt a strange pang in his chest. Was it pride? Relief? Maybe both. He straightened up, brushing the dirt from his clothes and running a hand through his dishevelled hair. Nia offered him a beam of acceptance, one that Thomas felt was the most genuine he'd ever seen from her.