Chapter 439 - A Battle of Wizards

Such a fun chapter to write. Our first time in ages having a proper wizard duel :) They're always some of the hardest fights to write but this is the kind of thing I was most excited about when I first came up with Hedge Wizard. So nice that Hump is starting to reach the upper ranks of wizardry.

Celaine raced from the street as heat exploded behind her. She glanced back, trying to make out the battle, but her eyes were filled with black spots. She could hardly see. Her ears rung so loud it was all she could hear. She stumbled against the wall, almost tripping.

Come on, she told herself, calling upon her blessings and directing them toward her injuries. Hunter’s Instinct screamed at her—a feeling she knew well. The sensation of death approaching.

She threw herself back on instinct, just as three daggers pierced the wall she’d been leaning against. She turned to her right, seeing nobody at first, then she caught a blur of motion above her—a shadow moving across the clotheslines suspended over the alleyway.

Silver glinted and she dodged again. Pain seared down her left arm—she’d barely been on time. The poison had slowed her, but the potion Hump had given her was beginning to work. Still, she was in no state to fight.

Fury burned in her. It was her job to spot these things. She should have noticed the poison. She should have spotted the ambush.

And now, she was pursued by a single assassin and no help to anyone.

Burning with indignation, Celaine called upon the shadows around her. The world turned dark, and the pain in her eyes eased a little. She stored her bow away once more and drew her dagger.

She might be slowed, but she would not lose to some nobody assassin.

***

The essence in the air wasn’t the most intense Hump had felt, but it was damn close. It rippled before him, a low, reverberating tremble building into a storm. He gripped his staff tighter, the smooth wood warm beneath his fingers despite the chill in the air, its runes and focus bright with essence. Fear weighed in his gut, but he caught it, shaped it, and let it flow into the River and Waves. His anxiety bled away, lost to the waves, and leaving only clarity and focus in its wake. His heart steadied. His breath slowed. His mind sharpened. He could feel his senses dulled by the poison in his body, but the antidote was working quickly—it would not hinder him much.

He could move. He could fight. Even if it meant burning through every last drop of his strength.

And burn he would.

With an effort of will, Hump activated Accelerated Thought once more. The world stretched. Sound warped, stretched into echoes. The wind slowed to a whisper. His breath misted in the cold air, hovering like frozen smoke. Now, he could see. He could think. Time was his.

Hump stood atop a wide, flat section of the rooftop of a grand manor, his boots balanced on slate tiles. Behind him, the manor doors opened onto the road where his companions clashed with the rest of the enemy force. But here—above, alone—was his battlefield.

The rooftop rose in steps. Above him, occupying the upper slope of the roofline, stood the Master and his apprentice, Air, looming over Hump like hawks watching prey. The city sprawled beyond them, rooftops stacked together like puzzle pieces, the terraced manors flowing into each other to form a treacherous route if Hump did need to make a run for it.

But that wasn’t the plan. Stall them long enough, and Celaine would find her moment to strike. They couldn’t let the ambushers escape, so Hump would make his stand.

There was a sharpness to the air. It crawled across Hump’s skin, raising the hairs on his arms as magic saturated the space, the wills of wizards staking their claim upon the essence of the battlefield. It wasn’t like the battle against Irila, the Lich Queen, nor Karlac. The pressure here was heavy but not crushing. Still… back then he’d had his gear, his battle robes, allies, and no poison running through his body. Tough odds, but Hump liked his chances here better. He might be outnumbered, but he wasn’t facing demons or ancient undead.

These were only men. Wizards. Mortals.

And that gave Hump confidence.

Essence bloomed. The Master’s power unfolded like the rising sun—golden, heavy, disciplined—washing over the rooftop in waves. His staff gleamed in his hand, a polished rod of brilliant silver topped with a multifaceted essence stone. Light fractured across its surface, refracting the golden glow. Everything about the man’s power and intent felt practiced and controlled. There was no doubt he was an expert.

Air stood beside him with a slim wand of white wood, the tip crowned by a brilliant ruby. His essence was faster, looser, wild like a storm. It surged alongside his Master’s, twining through the air in a duelling current, gold and white light mixing like sunlight through mist upon a lake. Their wills coiled outward, golden brilliance clashing with white-hot chaos, twisting together in a dance of dominance. The very space around them shimmered with their manifested souls.

Hump’s soul surged in answer. The dragon in him roared, hot with fury. His manifestation tore through the air, blazing into a curtain of deep twilight. Violet essence ripped outward from his body, filled with purpose, heavy with the weight of his will. Where theirs was a dance, his came roaring like an untamed storm.

The air shook. Not from heat or wind, but from will.

From him.

If they wanted to make this a contest of souls, then he would let them. This was a place he would not lose—the focus of his efforts. He had denied a gorger his soul, claimed the imprint of a dragon, and withstood the trials of a goddess.

Mere wizards could not make him falter.

His essence pressed outward, violet flames flickering across the rooftop, driving the gold and white back like a tide against rocks. Power and pressure layered the air in vibrant hues, humming with energy and turning hot.

Hump felt powerful. He felt ready. The poison in his system was drowned out by the sheer force of his own essence. Months of using Spirit Overflow to add to his soul, and now it poured from his core in full force. His channels strained in satisfaction, and he welcomed it. the world bent to his will. The roof tiles beneath Hump’s feet vibrated. The manor groaned. The rooftop—this space—was his.

Essence coiled around him, caught by the force of his intent and dragged in.

From above, Air’s voice broke the stillness. “How is he doing that?”

The Master did not turn. “Silence. Either fight or leave, Air. Do not speak again.”

Without warning, the Master lashed out with a jagged pulse of bronze. It erupted from the man’s staff, streaking down at the tiles beneath Hump’s feet. The intention was clear—destabilise the roof.

“It won’t work,” Hump growled, slamming his staff down. “Transform Earth.”

The cantrip, enhanced through his Spell Sculpting efforts in the Infernal Halls, surged down through his staff and rippled through the rooftop. The tiles fused together, locking into a single slab of hardened stone, infused with his essence and will.

The Master’s spell struck with a bronze flash and a low boom, sending a tremor tearing through the rooftop, only to ripple harmlessly across Hump’s platform, not leaving even a crack. The Master’s essence simply couldn’t overpower Hump’s own intent from such a distance.

Hump responded with a flurry of spells. Rock Shot sent loose tiles from the edges of his platform flying at the two wizards. Focused Beam was quick and precise—an attempt to catch them off guard, but both defended with ease. Spells bloomed and shattered between them. Hump fought on instinct, his spellbook whirling in his left hand, providing him Compact Formations to enhance his casting while his staff blaze with essence in his right. There was a lapse in the enemy—a brief pause where he didn’t need to shield himself and could call upon something larger.

“Cataclysmic Eruption.”

He poured essence into the rooftop beneath his enemies, trying to return the favour from before and tear the ground out from beneath them. Air stumbled but the Master stamped a foot, his boot dipping into the roof and sending out a wave of bronze that solidified it. Their footing held.

Air struck next with speed that could have rivalled Hump’s own. A streak of blinding white lightning lashed out from his wand like a serpent, arching across the tiles with a screech of raw energy.

Hump had no time for words. His essence rushed through his staff, forming a Shield overhead, the dome of force bursting into existence, transparent and woven with glowing channels. The bolt crashed into it, cracking with the impact, bursting over the surface of his Shield in a surge of blinding energy before dissipating.

Hump gritted his teeth, intent on the task at hand. He threw more essence into the spell. Fire this time. The dome turned red-hot.

“Shattered Shield.” With a flick of his staff, the barrier detonated outward, erupting in a shockwave of flame, Hump’s intent solely on the two wizards, leaving the rest of the roof untouched.

The two wizards moved quickly. Air threw up a swirling wall of wind which howled as it redirected the flames, warping them away in a curling spiral. The Master didn’t even flinch. He turned to stone as the blaze crashed over his body, leaving only scorch marks. He swatted at his smouldering robes with an irritated tut.

He was distracted. Too at ease for this battle, perhaps even underestimating Hump. And that was all Hump needed.

“Lava Coils.” Molten bands of orange-red essence cracked from his staff, whipping across the rooftops like serpents of flame. Air’s wind shield couldn’t handle the strain, collapsing with a shriek and dragging the molten energy with it, warping the trajectory. He screamed as one of them coiled around his waist. Wind howled again, forming a layer over his body that unravelled the coil and freed him from Hump’s spell, but it had burned a hole through the man’s battle robe. Charred flesh, red with blood glimmered within.

Air screamed and leapt high into the sky, essence warping around his boots, holding him aloft, suspended in place.

Even higher in the sky, Nisha stared down, on the hunt, eager to rejoin the battle. Hump willed her to wait for the moment he instructed her to strike. If she descended now, she would only put herself in danger.

From above, Air hurled a spinning disk of white essence.

Hump’s Shield rose instinctively. The spell shattered against it, but more followed. Dozens of the spinning blades fell in a barrage, each glowing with essence. Hump shifted positions under his shield, unable to counterattack. In a one-on-one battle, Hump would have been at an advantage. A levitation spell like that would drain the wizard quickly, especially while maintaining such a barrage.

From the corner of his eye, Hump caught movement.

The Master raised his staff overhead, barking a word of magic that Hump did not understand. A fireball grew above. It swelled, roaring like a furnace. The air became wavy with heat, distorting the distance stars around the fire ball’s circumference. The smell of burning oil filled the air.

The same spell as earlier—the one that had set the street ablaze. If that dropped here, the entire rooftop would ignite.

Hump narrowed his eyes. They’re pinning me down. The apprentice pressures me, the Master lands a devastating blow.

A good plan. Predictable but it made use of their numbers well. If he kept retreating behind Shield they’d wear him down. All it would take was one mistake. One Shield that didn’t hold. One spell that was a fraction of a second too late.

He couldn’t let them continue to dictate the flow any longer. Outnumbered, he couldn’t create an opening like this. He had to force a mistake, and he had just the idea to do it. Only thing was, if he miscalculated, it would definitely kill him.

For it to work, he had to be more reckless. At least, as far as the enemy were concerned. He levelled his staff at the Master, releasing his Shield and using its essence to launch an Essence Beam at the Master.

The spell fired with a shriek of compressed power—thin, sharp, precise. A streak of searing blue light launched across the rooftop like a lance.

The Master took the blow on his body and was blasted back a few steps. Without pause, the wizard twisted his staff around and launched a golden bolt of his own in return. It curved through the air, homing in on Hump.

Hump didn’t hesitate. The attack was too large for Parry Shield, and it would leave him exposed to an attack from Air. With a thought, he snapped a new Shield into place a breath before impact. The Master’s spell struck dead centre. A jagged crack split Hump’s barrier. It held this time, though barely. At the same time, a blast of wind from Air almost took him from the rooftop, but he dug his staff into the ground with Transform Earth, holding himself in place.

Hump dropped to a knee, ripping up a cluster of nearby rooftiles with a thought and hurling them forward with Rock Shot. The jagged fragments shattered harmlessly against the Master’s stone-skin, as expected, but they weren’t the real attack.

Buried within the attack with a dozen glinting needles of obsidian, created with Titan’s Wrath.

The Master flinched. One of the shards struck inside his hood, and for a moment, the man’s veil was destroyed. Hump saw a middle-aged man with a thick beard and hard, gleaming old eyes. His cheek was bleeding, and surprise marred his expression. Unfortunately, Hump didn’t recognise him. The moment the man realised what had happened, he brought his veil back.

Hump prepared another round of needles, when the battlefield descended into chaos.

A storm of spells rained from above. Orbs of golden light. Spinning discs of razor wind. Forked bolts of lightning. Shards of stone like thrown blades. Spells came from every angle, each one with deadly intent.

Hump was at the centre of it all. His focus was clear, but even with Accelerated Thought, all he could do was react. His Shield rose and fell in rapid bursts, blocking one spell, then another, only to break on the third. Each time he found a breath, he fired back. Focused Beam. Titan’s Wrath. Shield. Fire Blast. Shield again. His spellbook spun ceaselessly at his side, pages turning in sync with his thoughts, feeding him formations as fast as he could cast them.

He wasn’t fighting like he usually did. He wasn’t moving. He was standing still, every ounce of his focus locked on reading the battlefield, reacting faster than thought, casting at a pace few could match outside of training dungeons.

But he couldn’t keep this up.

His essence burned low.

His Shield cracked again.

“Now!” the Master roared.

A blade of wind dropped from the sky—blinding, soundless, death in motion.

This was what Hump had been waiting for, but forcing himself not to react took every effort of will he had. Even with Accelerated Thought, Hump could barely comprehend its speed. He had no time to block. No time to dodge.

The blade struck him square in the head, but there was no pain. No blood. No cut.

Instead, Hump let his body go limp. He flung himself back with a convincing jolt, as if thrown by the blow, and crashed to the roof. His staff slipped from his fingers, clattering across the stone. He lay still. Lifeless.

The Lifesaver Charm on his wrist pulsed hot against his skin. A gift from the Vault of the Inquisition—designed to activate upon taking a physical blow to the body and defend against it.

It had done its job well.

“Now, Nisha!” Hump called through their bond. He sensed the little dragon ignite with excitement. He glimpsed her vision as she descended from above, the city stretched out beneath her, the battlefield filled with fire, smoke, and strange water creatures on the street. A few streets away, blessings rose into the air from where reinforcements were on the way.

The sky tore open with a dragon’s roar.

Nishari plummeted from the darkness like a falling star, fire wreathing her form. Her cry shook the tiles beneath them, raw with fury. There was nothing feigned in her rage. His near-death was enough to awaken her full wrath.

Both wizards turned their eyes away from Hump and up to her. They readied their spells, and Hump grinned. He extended his hand toward his staff. “Return.”

It flew to his hand silently. He caught it and took aim. No time for anything fancy. No grand spells. Nothing that would be detected.

All he needed was speed.

He levelled his staff at the two distracted wizards, his spellbook whirling to something he’d stored within with Spell Storage. A spell that burned with the very heart of himself.

He spoke the words like a hammer. “White Flame.”

In an instant, the rooftop flickered with a brilliant white blaze.