“Why are we here?” Alex asked, looking around.

  “We’ve got twenty, maybe thirty minutes. A perfect chance for a little duel. Let’s measure each other’s strength.” The Jester’s voice held no bravado, no arrogance—only curiosity. A magical circle glowed in his hand, forming into a long, elegant sword. “So show me everything you’ve got.”

  “I’ve been waiting for this chance,” Alex smiled. In his hand, a clot of blood solidified into a dark sword.

  Both took their stances, and in the next instant, a sudden strike exploded between them. Their swords clashed with a thunderous crash, and their faces froze for a heartbeat opposite one another—each wearing a smile of eager joy. Then the real battle began.

  Alex struck first, his blood blade cutting through the air in a series of rapid slashes. The Jester dodged and parried effortlessly, gracefully, as if dancing to the rhythm of an unseen orchestra. His sword of light gleamed each time it clashed with Alex’s crimson blade.

  Then Alex leapt back, flung out his hand—and from it snapped a whip of darkness, tearing into the ground. The Jester crossed his arms, summoning a barrier of light before him, which shattered the darkness and absorbed the blow.

  “Good,” the Jester smiled. “But I want to see more.”

  He lunged forward, leaving a trail of light behind him. His attacks were so fast, it seemed as if he disappeared and reappeared beside Alex again and again.

  Alex, barely keeping up, blocked and countered, but with each passing second the pressure grew.

  Suddenly, the Jester raised his sword to the sky, and it exploded into hundreds of light needles that rained down on the clearing. Alex created a dome of darkness above him—some of the beams deflected, others sliced into the ground around him. The boy swept his hand—and a massive wave of darkness erased all the light needles around him, like a tsunami.

  "Whoa!" was all the Jester managed to say, shielding himself from the wave with a barrier of light.

  But when the dust settled, the Jester was already holding a double-edged blade of light in his hands. His eyes burned with excitement.

  The air trembled as Alex rose into the sky on a magical platform of darkness, which seemed to grow from nothing itself. It pulsed beneath his feet, formed from concentrated magic, its edges swirling with dark spirals. Alex stretched his hand forward—and it began.

  From his palm burst five massive projectiles, each as dark as a starless night. With a hum, they tore toward the Jester, who now hovered slightly lower, suspended in the air by radiant wings of light beating from his back.

  The Jester gracefully dodged the first, the second, the third. One flew so close it scorched his sleeve. Two others, pursuing him, began to curve, tracking his movements—Alex had imbued them with homing.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  "Not bad," the Jester called out in midair, spinning and extending his hands. In his palms, two circles of light ignited, releasing beams with a thunderous crack—they struck the dark projectiles, tearing them apart in midair with explosions that looked like black flowers.

  Alex barely managed to grip his sword with both hands when the Jester appeared before him. Their blades clashed with such force that the air around them cracked. The Jester spun swiftly in the air and struck horizontally from the left—Alex blocked, trying to counter with a thrust from below, but the Jester easily flipped over him, hovering above the platform.

  "Better," he remarked, and in the next instant his sword carved a downward arc.

  Alex blocked the strike, but the impact made him slip on the platform.

  "And now let’s see how you fare without support," the Jester said with a grin, suddenly leaping back, raising his sword overhead with both hands. From the blade burst a projectile of light that crashed against the platform with a roar.

  Alex instantly conjured a barrier of darkness before it, which held for a moment, but the Jester’s light pierced through. The platform cracked, shuddered—and shattered.

  Alex plummeted. He twisted midair, cushioning his fall with magic, and landed softly on his knees. Dust rose around him. A shadow flashed overhead again—the Jester was already diving for another attack.

  At once, from the ground, a black spike erupted like a spear—then another, and another. They shot upward, trying to impale the Jester, but he merely shifted his path slightly, slipping between them like a shadow in light.

  "Not bad!" he exclaimed, dodging.

  Alex thrust his hand forward, releasing a wave of dark magic—it rolled across the ground, tearing it up like a tide. The Jester descended, meeting the wave with a blast of light—the two forces collided in the center, triggering an explosion that scorched the grass and lifted clouds of dust.

  Alex lunged through the haze and struck with his sword—the Jester blocked, and once again they traded blows. One, two, three—each strike left cracks in the earth. Then Alex suddenly leapt back and fired two dark projectiles point-blank. The Jester raised his hand—and the projectiles simply vanished, consumed by an invisible barrier.

  "Now it’s my turn," he said, sweeping his hand. From his blade erupted an arc of light that raced across the ground, forcing Alex to hurl himself aside.

  When Alex braced for another strike—the Jester was already standing right before him. The light sword stopped a few centimeters from his neck.

  "This was fun," he said with a smile, lowering the blade. "But I’m still stronger."

  Alex, breathing heavily, lowered his blood sword and gave a small nod.

  "Only for now."

  The Jester laughed.

  "I’ll be waiting for a rematch."

  Alex, exhausted but with confidence in his eyes, wiped the sweat from his cheeks with the back of his hand and smiled.

  "I’m ready anytime. Another round?"

  The Jester chuckled, flicking his light sword aside, where it dissolved into sparkles.

  "Oh, I like your spirit. But for the first time—that’s enough. I’ve seen what I needed. Now I can craft a training plan that’ll squeeze out every drop of your potential… and then some."

  Alex caught his breath, dismissing the blood sword.

  "Perfect. I’ve got plenty to improve."

  The Jester wiped an imaginary bead of sweat from his brow and squinted mockingly.

  "By the way, have you changed your mind about dinner?"

  Alex sighed heavily.

  "I already promised. Though… judging by the way you looked at me back then, it seems I didn’t really have much of a choice."

  The Jester snickered and theatrically pressed a hand to his chest.

  "A refusal from you would have disappointed not only me, but all my guests. And that, my friend, would be a true crime against hospitality."

  "I figured as much."

  A magical circle appeared beneath their feet once more. Light and shadow swirled, spiraling together—and in a moment both men vanished from the clearing, leaving behind only the battlefield’s desolation and a faint lingering heat.