A palm-sized fairy with crimson red butterfly wings, slightly shaped like licks of crackling fire.
Only that it didn't appear in a blaze like Oliver declared.
Merely fizzled into existence in a whisk of grayish smoke.
Similarly…
*tsssss*
...instead of the fire covering the surface of the weapon Oliver cast the enflame spell on, only a sizzling sound and gray smoke were released…
"Tee-hee~! Bur-HGNGH…!?"
The fae giggled in a high-pitched voice, only to suddenly flinch and clench its tiny hands on its chest, turning ghastly pale… even bluish, and it started shivering so hard it seemed its fragile wings would fall off at any mo…
"Piligri! Do it!"
Gritting his teeth in annoyance as if what was happening was only a series of minor mishaps and inconsequential hurdles, Oliver shouted while launching himself at his bleached-blond-haired opponent.
*crack*
…but at the moment that Oliver was passing by his contracted fae, its wings shattered into pieces from their own movement, and as the wingless fairy began to fall down, it dispersed into red specks of light that disappeared in a flash the very next second.
Without a word, with the tiniest crack similar to the thin layer of ice on a puddle stomped by a child, the physical form of the fire element fairy, Piligri, was destroyed just by coming in contact with ice mana gathering around Rotsard.
The saddest part was that Piligir's master didn't even notice it, too focused on the strike aiming at Rotsard's neck.
"...!"
*SHING*
Well, at least he didn't have tunnel vision bad enough to miss a block of ice forming in front of Rotsard and then shooting straight at him, so he swung and sliced right through it!
But instead of the two halves diverging dramatically so much that they would miss him, as Oliver expected to happen, the two halves slid through the blade, diverging only a little bit…
*WHAM* *WHAM*
"...ughhngh…!"
Both hit his chest, although in slightly different spots, forcing a groan of pain out of his mouth and stopping most of his momentum.
"!?!?"
Not giving him any chance to recover, two blocks of ice materialized behind him and slammed into his ankles, swiping him off his feet, and as he swung his arms in a futile attempt to keep the balance he already lost, a block of ice from above struck him in the face.
…all while Rotsard didn't even budge…
"That should do it, shouldn't it?"
The bleached-blond-haired youth tilted his head slightly towards the vice headmaster and asked.
"...hmm…? Y-yes, of course!"
"N-no…! Wait!"
Syon flinched as if he didn't expect the question and finally managed to take his eyes off the circle and wings of light to glance at the fallen Oliver and agree in haste, but Oliver himself growled as he rolled to the side and then scrambled back up at his feet.
"I… I can still fight! It's not over!"
The sixth-year student called out, gritting his teeth as he clenched his sword in a trembling hand.
"No, it definitely is."
"NO, IT'S NOT!"
Rotsard raised his brow and pointed out, but Oliver shouted furiously in response, taking a stance again.
"...student Berdon, one of the rules you agreed on was that this duel was to first blood drawn…"
"AND WHO IS BLEEDING EXACTLY?!"
This time, it was Syon who raised his brow and pointed out, and Oliver's reaction was even more visceral.
"You."
"I...! Wh-wha…?"
Rotsard rolled his eyes and shook his head as he casually pointed out, and Oliver clearly fully intended to continue shouting, but the blood spilling out from a large wound on his forehead spilled into his eye. Only when he hurriedly tried to wipe it off, thinking it was sweat...
Only the sight of his hand stained red had finally shut him up.
"Rotsard Vallhall is the winner!"
"N-no! NO!"
The vice headmaster raised his hand and announced to the baffled audience, causing Oliver to grimace and rush over to him, still with his sword in hand.
"Teacher! That's not fair! He cheated!"
Oliver howled while pointing at Rotsard with the weapon.
"How?"
"Wh-what…?"
Syon furrowed his brows and stared straight at the sixth-year student, causing him to hesitate momentarily.
"Student Berdon, you claim that student Vallhall cheated. I'm asking you to explain to me how he cheated."
The vice headmaster pointed out calmly, although he did keep glancing at Rotsard over and over again as if he just couldn't hold himself back.
"Those blocks of ice! There's no way they weren't spells! A-and this whole light show! In what world is that a meditation technique!? There's something obviously wrong going on, and you're going along with it!"
"...student Berdon, are you actually suggesting that I'm…!"
Oliver shouted with agitation, first aggressively poking his sword towards Rotsard but then pointing it right at Syon's face, making the feminine man's expression darken as he let out a warning in a low voice…
*WHAM*
But the very next moment, a block of ice struck and shattered against Oliver's temple, knocking the young man out like a light…
*THUMP*
"Do not threaten teachers, you uncouth, peasant-like trash."
"S-student Vallhall!
As Oliver fell to the side like a downed log, Rotsard scoffed, and the circle and wings of light disappeared as Syon called out to him with a troubled expression, as if he wasn't entirely sure what was the appropriate way for him to act in that situation.
"He was getting ahead of himself. Not to mention that he didn't seem keen to accept the already announced result. If he doesn't like the idea of losing by being the first one to bleed, I thought that he may prefer to be rendered unconscious."
Rotsard shrugged his shoulders and said casually before turning around.
"Have a nice day, Young Lord."
He added and left with a slightly more pep in his step, smirking to himself.