The roar of the crowd dulled as Vesper and Rosalind stepped onto their respective platforms. Vesper bit the inside of her lip, her mind racing through dozens of worst-case scenarios. She had watched Kubo and Akane fight, but observing and surviving were two very different things.
"I hope you can provide great support," Vesper called out across the gap, her voice tight with anxiety.
"Hey, Rosalind! You never answered me earlier. What kind of support spells or Ikos do you actually know?"
Rosalind, standing on the Pawn stage, fidgeted with the lace of her dress. "You see, Vesper... I don't really know much."
Vesper froze. "What? What do you mean you don't know much?"
"Silence, please!" the referee's magically amplified voice boomed across the arena.
"The match is about to commence!" He recited the rules of the Pawn and Knight match just as he had in the first round, but his tone darkened at the end. "Let us remember, if the Mord camp does not claim an absolute victory in this round, we will have to restart the entire duel. Only flawless triumph is permitted."
Before Vesper could shout another question at Rosalind, the stage began to encapsulate them. Instead of the grassy terrain from before, concrete erupted from the earth. Walls folded upward, timber and stone slotting into place as furniture sprouted from the ground. Within seconds, the stage had morphed into two sprawling, multi-story mansions separated by a darkened fountain park.
A jarring jolt of teleportation ripped through them, and suddenly, they were standing inside a dimly lit guest room in one of the mansions.
Rosalind stumbled to the floor, unaccustomed to the violent shift in atmosphere. Vesper didn't miss a beat. She hauled Rosalind to her feet.
"Rosalind!" Vesper said, her voice eerily calm but carrying a dangerous edge. "You don't mean to tell me you don't know any spells. No support spells?!"
"Well, I do know a little!" Rosalind defended herself, brushing dust off her skirt. "Like a shield spell, a fire spell, a spell that summons armor... and a few more."
"Hmm, that's good enough," Vesper muttered, her mind already calculating. "What about personal Ikos? Any Proprium?"
Rosalind scoffed, turning her head away and pouting. "I am not inclined to tell you that."
"We are in a death match! Proprium are unique to you, I need to know what you can do—"
"Ugh, just forget it," Vesper groaned, cutting herself off. She thrust out her hand. Dark, purplish Vim coalesced into a slightly oversized, asphalt-gray wand wrapped in thorn and snake motifs, ending in a heavy, golden apple base.
Rosalind's eyes widened in horror. "What is that?"
"It's my Schattenstab," Vesper replied. "The wand I used to play pranks when we were younger."
"That horrid thing!" Rosalind shrieked, backing away. "The one that hid you while you caused chaos around the estate? I'm not touching that!"
"Just take it! It will make casting spells easier, and it allows you to cast a few spells I've embedded into it. Plus, it hides you." Vesper tried to press it into Rosalind's hands, but the princess violently shook her head.
"Fine. Here," Vesper said, dropping the heavy wand onto the floorboards with a thud. "When you are ready, you will pick it up. I hope."
Without another word, Vesper turned and slipped out of the room.
Rosalind stared at the wand, scoffing softly. So this is the wand she used to terrorize us. It looks so different now... ugh, what have I gotten myself into? She stepped over to the window, peering out into the gloom. There was no moon, no stars—just a suffocating, gloomy night separating the two mansions.
Why does Glen Hearthstone allow young children to fight among themselves? she wondered, rubbing her arms. I thought this place was a pinnacle of Noble and Royal Rotesque, not a gladiator pit.
She looked around the guest room. The ceilings were uncomfortably tall, a cabinet was stuffed with strange bottles, and a nearby table was splattered with dry ink and parchment. The whole vibe of the place made her skin crawl.
Sighing, Rosalind re-approached the wand. I guess since I forced myself into this, I might as well go through with it.
She knelt and picked it up. Instantly, a small feeling of familiarity welled up deep within her chest—like a match striking without catching fire. The first wand I have ever held, she thought. Strange.
She gave it a tentative wave. Immediately, a thick veil of darkness cascaded over her head. Rosalind screamed, jumping backward to escape it, but the shadow clung to her. Then, as quickly as it appeared, it vanished.
What was that? Did Vesper trick me? Rosalind rushed over to a dusty vanity mirror in the corner. Her reflection was gone. In its place was a slight, shifting darkness that could hardly be made out unless she blinked three times.
"Hmm... so it was the masking spell," Rosalind whispered, doing a little spin, watching as the shadows twirled with her unseen skirt. "It's actually really nice." Rosalind beamed with excitement.
Downstairs, Vesper was already turning the mansion into a minefield.
She moved quickly, clearing thick spider webs as she swept through the abandoned corridors. This seems like it used to be some kind of party house, Vesper noted, peering through a window toward the opposite mansion. There was no movement over there. Are they stalling? Preparing? Well, they should know I won't attack them first.
She ducked below the windowsill and dragged her finger across the glass. "Augenfalle." The inscription glowed a violent purple for a second before fading into an almost invisible black, camouflaging perfectly against the frame.
She moved to the ground floor, carving the explosive runic eyes into the mismatched wallpapers and tiled floors.
As she approached the kitchen, the floor squeaked under her boot. Vesper crouched, tapping the wood. Hollow. It led to a basement. She quickly scribbled another Augenfalle over the seam.
"What's that?" Rosalind called out from directly behind her.
"Oh, you picked it up. You nearly spooked me," Vesper replied, not looking the least bit spooked.
"I never had any intention of spooking you. What have you been writing all over the walls?" Rosalind asked, leaning closer.
"Augenfalle... what is that spell?"
"It's an inscription. It explodes on command, or when a hostile looks at it," Vesper explained, standing up from the trap door.
Rosalind gasped. "Are you saying it could have exploded on me?!"
"No, dumbass, you aren't a hostile," Vesper sighed. She glanced around the kitchen. "Do you think I should put it on the knives? Kubo might try to use them as projectiles."
"I think maybe you should. Though an exploding spell may not be enough," Rosalind warned.
"Yeah. I'll use this instead. Bloodrot."
Vesper held her hands out. Instantly, the skin on her fingers began to peel, turning a sickening, necrotic gray as the smell of rotting flesh filled the air.
Rosalind recoiled, disgust and terror warring on her face. "What are you doing to yourself?! Are you alright?!"
"Don't worry, it's just a poison spell," Vesper grunted, her jaw tightening against the pain. "It does this to you when you cast it at Anthem Cadence."
She began touching the various utensils scattered around the kitchen—spoons, knives, forks. A greenish-brown fog wrapped around the silver, seeping into the metal before disappearing like it was never there. Her hands slowly knitted themselves back together.
"Anthem Cadence," Rosalind muttered, quietly mocking her. She couldn't believe Vesper actually possessed an Anthem-level understanding of any spell. She chuckled nervously at the sheer absurdity of the lie. "Why haven't they attacked yet?"
"They are most likely preparing to hit us hard," Vesper said, moving toward the main entrance. "If Kubo is going to rush us, I'm sure he'll be buffed up with dozens of spells."
"Does the plan even account for him?"
"The game plan is to draw out Akane and seal her," Vesper explained, crouching to draw complex shapes on the floorboards. "Kubo will be the vanguard. Akane will hide. So I'm going to draw her out and trap her, making her useless, and hopefully forever Vesper whispered revenge in her voice.
They have another operation later, and I'm sure Raina wants to participate in it, so she won't let them waste Vim or one-time-use Ikos here."
Vesper's fingers flew, tracing a huge circle, then interlocking chains of diamonds, squares of triangles, and finally a flower pattern wrapping around a smaller inner circle.
"Is that a magic circle?" Rosalind demanded, her voice flatlining. "I thought only witches drew magic circles."
"Hello! I'm a witch! Have you forgotten?!" Vesper cackled. "And that's not true anyway. Anyone can draw a magic circle with enough Vim and knowledge. What did they even teach you in the Steinvik Wisdomhall? Manners and tea etiquette?"
Rosalind folded her arms, scowling deeply. A sudden, tiny cloud—her Münchwolke—began to form above her head, ready to drop angry snowflakes.
"No! We were taught more than that! But not spells and circles... what do they think you guys are going to use these for? Glen Hearthstone is weird, if you ask me."
"Don't form your Münchwolke here, it will ruin the circle," Vesper warned, finalizing the circle with a heavy cross.
Suddenly, a sharp, twanging tune drifted through the air. The distinct, haunting sound of a shamisen.
"I guess that's the warning," Vesper said, standing up. "The fight is starting. Rosalind, are you sure you aren't going to tell me your Proprium?"
"No. I'm not," Rosalind stated boldly.
"Alright then." Vesper stretched out her palm. A sudden burst of purple light shot from her hand, racing along the magic circle and connecting to every Augenfalle inscription she had placed. "Scanning them."
"Are you... what?"
"Silhouette," Vesper chanted. From the darkest corners of the kitchen, seven pitch-black shadow-clones of Vesper peeled themselves off the walls.
"Set up the rest of the traps," Vesper ordered them. Fourteen black orbs condensed in her hands, dissolving into the clones like melting ice. "Copies of Augenfalle and Fesselkreis. Go." The shadows scattered instantly, melting into the floorboards.
Vesper grabbed Rosalind's arm. "I am going to protect you." She dragged the princess up the grand staircase and down a winding hallway, finally kicking open a bedroom door. The room was a disaster—scattered, scanty clothes littered the floor, and a heavy, musky smell hung in the air, so thick it made Rosalind gag.
"What did they do in this room?" Rosalind asked, taking a step and freezing. "Ewww. It's sticky!" she screeched, looking down at a melted condom stuck to her shoe.
"Well, that answers your question. This was most likely a really fun room," Vesper joked. She held up two fingers and blew on them. A dim, blue light flickered to life at her fingertips.
"Oh, that's Lindsel's Light, I know that one," Rosalind said, desperately trying to scrape her shoe against a clean patch of rug.
"Yeah, but it's not just a simple light. It's a detecting one," Vesper said, sweeping the blue glow across the wall between two heavy wardrobes.
"Lindsel's Light is not a detecting spell, what are you saying?" Rosalind mocked.
"If you reach Chorus Cadence, it branches into a detecting spell for secret passages and magical traces. Not the best, but practical."
"Come on, Vesper, be serious," Rosalind chuckled nervously. "You obviously can't have a Chorus Cadence on a light spell. Downstairs you joked about having Anthem Cadence on a poison spell! You couldn't possibly have such advanced understanding of—"
"I do," Vesper interrupted, her blue light snagging on a faint vertical seam in the wallpaper. "Watch. Bland Palm."
Two misty, black hands materialized from Vesper's shoulders. But instead of the chubby, baby-like arms the spell usually produced, these hands were dangerously thin, ending in fingers like long needles.
"This is Bland Palm? You know at a Prism Cadence? It becomes personalized..."
Rosalind trailed off, actually impressed as the needle-fingers effortlessly pried the hidden door open, revealing a dark, narrow passage.
"But Chorus or Anthem is a ridiculous lie, Vesper," Rosalind continued to argue as they descended the tight, dusty stairs, the secret door clicking shut behind them.
At the bottom was a hidden cellar. A massive, dried-blood ritual circle covered the floor, surrounded by offerings of what looked like heavy narcotics.
"At least we know what they were having fun with," Vesper quipped. "No wonder the condoms melted."
"Stop making such immature jokes!" Rosalind snapped. "What are you going to do?"
"Expansion Room," Vesper called out.
A new magic circle flared beneath their feet, erecting thick, transparent purple walls that sectioned off a corner of the cellar.
Above them, the shamisen's song suddenly doubled in tempo.
BOOM.
A massive explosion rattled the ceiling, dusting them with plaster.white batter.
"It seems Kubo has entered," Vesper noted calmly. "Not to worry, Rosalind."
Vesper rolled up her sleeves. Deep, cloth-like markings began to manifest up her arms, creeping toward her elbows. She opened her eyes, and the whites had vanished, replaced by writhing tendrils of pure darkness. Her Vim began to violently vent into the room in massive, suffocating waves.
Another explosion went off upstairs. Then another.
Vesper began chanting rapidly. Different colored lights sparked around the cellar. More clones—some made of mist, some of solid shadow—began stepping out of the ether. The purple walls of the Expansion Room began morphing, shifting as countless magic circles, runes, and protective wards rapidly layered over one another.
"Vesper, what is going on?!" Rosalind yelled over the sound of a third explosion.
High above the arena, Raina slammed her fists onto the railing of the viewing stands, her face twisted in rage.
"What are they doing?!" she screamed at the glowing sphere screens. "Attack! She's already setting traps! Why are you playing a tune, Akane?! Are you warning them or playing games?! You took too long!"
She watched a camera feed of Kubo triggering a tripwire, dodging a purple explosion by a hair.
"Shit! Now she's chaining spells! When could she do that?!" Raina paced frantically. "Fuck, at least none of the explosions are landing a direct hit. But what the fuck is this map?! It's a kink house! I bribed the officials to pick a map that was hard to observe, and he gives me this?! Great Dragons, I can feel myself balding!" She broke off into a string of furious Mandarin curses
Down below, Mord watched the screens with a calm, analytical eye.
"It seems," Mord speculated quietly to himself, "Vesper's game plan is a brutal game of attrition."