Third Master

The morning air in Ghender was crisp and quiet, the stone walls of the academy cool to the touch. Alice stepped into the arena for the third time, her stride confident, her energy restored from her sex with Otrera. Whatever happened next, Alice was ready.

In the arena stood a woman of unremarkable stature—slightly smaller than Alice, dressed in a simple dueling uniform, her dark hair tied back in a single braid. She looked more like a clerk than a warrior, her blade slim and plain.

When she spoke, her voice was light but laced with contempt. “So you’re the one who beat Havel and Otrera.”

Alice raised an eyebrow. “And you are?”

“Barbara,” the woman said flatly, lifting her chin. “You don’t look like much. I’m honestly impressed you made it this far. Pity it ends here.”

Alice’s eyes narrowed. “You’ll regret underestimating me.”

Barbara smirked. “Prove it.”

The battle began with a clash of steel. Barbara’s swordplay was competent but uninspired. Alice moved faster, more gracefully, slipping past her guard with ease. She wasn’t just stronger—she was evolved. A week ago, she would have lost to this woman. But now?

Now she was something more.

Just as Alice began pressing the attack, intending to end it quickly, a sudden blast of invisible **** slammed into her side, sending her skidding backward.

She caught herself, raised a shield of flame just in time to deflect the next magical surge.

Barbara straightened, her eyes now glowing with a cold light. “Oh. You thought I was just another swordfighter? No, dear. I’m a battle sorceress.”

Magic crackled in the air.

Barbara came forward, launching a barrage of sharp, invisible **** strikes between precise sword thrusts. Each movement was laced with magical energy, her blade like a conductor for raw destruction. Alice parried what she could and absorbed the rest, but Barbara gave her no time to cast, no time to breathe.

Alice realized the truth—she couldn’t match Barbara in hybrid combat. She had to choose. One path, one focus.

She tried again to charge a spell—just a single firebolt—but Barbara’s blade flashed before she could raise her hand, nearly slicing through her ward.

I can’t keep up, Alice thought. Not like this.

And then, the answer came.

She couldn’t match Barbara’s dual-wielding of blade and spell—but she didn’t have to. She had more magic. She had better technique. All she needed… was control.

Alice centered herself, then poured everything—everything—into her defense. A shimmering shield of holy light burst around her like a cocoon, deflecting every magical strike with ease. The moment her defenses stabilized, she moved.

Fast.

Her blade became a blur, cutting through the air with terrifying grace. Barbara’s confident expression faltered as she backpedaled, her own sword clashing with Alice’s, barely holding the line.

Now Alice was in control.

Barbara’s spells ricocheted off the magic shield, useless. Her sword swings slowed under the relentless pace of Alice’s ****. It wasn’t just speed—it was clarity. Precision. Power focused into a single direction.

Then—clang!

Alice knocked Barbara’s sword from her hand with a furious upward slash and spun low, sweeping Barbara’s legs out from under her. The sorceress fell hard, gasping as the wind was knocked from her lungs.

Alice stepped forward, blade raised. “Yield.”

Barbara looked up at her, eyes wide, shocked.

And then she screamed.

Raw energy exploded from her hands as she unleashed everything—rage, fear, pride—into a single cataclysmic blast of magic. The air howled with the **** of it, and the arena’s floor cracked under the pressure. The light blazed white-hot.

Alice with supernatural instincts fired her own blast of holy magic

The blasts combined and the light surrounded them both as energy exploded around them.