Questing Sucks! Book II (71 page)

Sehn tightened his grip on his sword, raised it to where it was level with the left side of his head, and pointed it at Duncan while bending his knees. His flame-covered blade was warm near his face, but it did not burn him. He had learned to immunize himself from his own flames a few days earlier thanks to Issius.

“Come at me, you decaying bitch!” he beckoned the Archmage. “The Great Sehn thirsts for combat.”

Duncan laughed. “You don’t get it, do you? You’ve already lost. This fight ended several minutes ago.”

“Oh?”

“I cannot kill you, Sehn—not yet, anyway. But what I can do is send you away. This time, you will go somewhere that I am sure you will not escape from. Just what is it that you think I was doing down there?” He nodded at the gap in the center of the stage. “It takes a while to prepare the spell of banishment.” He again laughed, and before long, his laughter turned to maniacal cackling.

“Issius, the fool that he is, believed
you
a worthy challenge for me? And to think! They call
me
the mad one. I would be insulted if not for all I stand to gain. You, an elf who knows two or three worthless spells, and I, a devoted mage who has lived, breathed, and thrived in this world of magic. And yet Issius has placed all of his faith in you. Don’t make me laugh!”

Sehn did not so much as flinch while Archmage Duncan extended his staff, pointed it in Sehn’s direction, and then released more of his disturbing laughter. This was good. Sehn had been waiting for this. He never expected that Duncan would start with this right off the bat. But he was, and Gods this was fantastic. Sehn had fantasized about this moment: he’d even dreamed of it in the short time he’d allowed himself to rest between learning his new magic. Finally, it was time.

Both Cah’lia and Patrick shouted his name as if worried a repeat of last time would take place. But Sehn ignored them. If not for his need to focus, he would have released his wrath upon them for feeling such a disgusting thing as “concern” for him. For now, he could not afford the distraction. He kept his eyes on Duncan’s, and he waited for just the right moment. He needed to be ready to react. If he was off by even a second, it would be too late.

Do it,
Sehn thought eagerly.
Cast your spell, you pitiable fool.

“It is time for you to disappear,” Duncan said. Sehn watched him closely, refusing to even blink. This was it. This was the moment he’d dreamed of. Duncan’s chest inflated—he was inhaling. This meant he was about to recite those few words that Sehn had trained himself to react towards the moment he overheard them. He inhaled, drawing a breath of his own and holding it. He waited, calmly. Any moment now…

In a shout, Duncan chanted “
Tellas
—”

Now
!

“
Sellos
Vi
NUHL
!” Sehn chanted as fast as possible while taking his right hand off his sword, throwing it out, and unleashing a tiny blue orb no larger than a coin that moved so fast it appeared almost as a trick of the light. Duncan likely did not even see it—or feel it—enter into his chest.

“—
Vi
Nara Sehl
!” Duncan finished.

There was a moment of quiet, both from the crowd and from those on the stage. Sehn did not turn his head to look, but he knew Issius would be nodding his head in approval. Sehn grinned. He had wanted to do this so, so badly.

It took a few moments longer than Sehn anticipated it would for Duncan to both realize that his spell had failed and also for him to understand why. But when he did, his reaction lived up to Sehn’s expectations. His voice rife with denial, he said, “Y-you…you used a—”

Sehn laughed victoriously. He pointed at Duncan while continuing to laugh. “You’ve just been counterspelled, motha’fucka!”

“Impossible. From
you
?”

Sehn could barely contain his elation. “
Hahahaha!
Hmm? What’s that?” Sehn again removed his right hand from his blade and placed it next to his ear. “I’m sorry. What was that? Did you want to cast a spell? Too bad, fool! The Great Sehn has denied you. You just got counterspelled like a
bitch
. Oh, how that must ache with the heat of a thousand burns. Kneel before my greatness!”

Originally, Sehn had been disappointed when Issius insisted he learn this spell. It was neither destructive nor awesome-looking. But Gods it was useful. Unlike other spells, this one had to be “chambered,” as Issius had called it. Apparently, some spells required a good deal of preparation and needed to be primed in advance then “held onto” for future use: chambered. Most mages, they claimed, lacked the ability to chamber even a single spell, whereas others, such as the Holy Magus, could chamber up to six powerful spells at a time. And although Sehn could chamber over a billion, he’d decided the fight would only be fair if he chambered just one at a time.

Come to think of it, the “banishing” spell that Duncan had been trying to cast was one he must’ve chambered during the few minutes he’d been left on his own. And now that it had been foiled, the Archmage did not appear happy. Sehn giggled at his misery, which only seemed to further his unhappiness.

“I’ll…kill you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. His eyes were now bloodshot. Had Sehn made him so upset that he’d popped a few blood vessels?

“I’ll…kill you. Slowly. Then I will kill Issius as well.
I’ll kill all of you!
” The Archmage howled. “I’ll find someone else for my master to use, but you…you will die. And it will hurt. Mark my words, elf. You’re going to regret humiliating me in front of my people. You’re going to wish you’d never—”

“
La’saala
Vi
Nara MAHR
,” Sehn whispered.

The moment after Sehn chanted the spell, a tremendous, upside-down fist three times Duncan’s size appeared in the air above his head, and then with a single downwards motion, it pounded him face-down onto the floor before disappearing into a puff of purple smoke. This caused Duncan to make “
durrfff
” sound instead of whatever word he’d been about to say.

As Sehn continued to laugh at him, Duncan, who now lay flat on his stomach, lifted his head, giving Sehn a good look at the hatred in his eyes. Clearly, he didn’t like being laughed at, which was precisely why Sehn laughed at him some more and even imitated the sound he’d made as he’d tried to talk more of his bullshit.

“Say that again, Archfool. I didn’t quite hear you.
Bahahaha
!”

Sehn was far from alone in enjoying himself. It seemed the people of Magia appreciated Duncan’s humiliation as much as Sehn enjoyed administering it. With a glance over his shoulder, they became even more enthusiastic after he granted them the honor of being looked upon by their God-King. Issius and the mages, however, showed no such enthusiasm. Issius merely pointed forward, as if to imply Sehn should keep his eyes on the Archmage. In response, Sehn slid a finger across his throat, threatening the Holy Magus. And why? Because
fuck
Issius, that’s why. Look at how he thought he was so great just because he was the “Holy Magus.” Pfft! More like mag-
ass
.

“Sehn! Look out!” Patrick’s voice called out to him in warning. “Pay attention! He’s already back on his feet!”

Sehn yawned and turned his head so that he again faced forward—then yelped and kicked off his feet to throw himself backwards. He landed painfully on the stage’s hard wooden surface. If not for Patrick’s warning, he would’ve been hit with some sort of pink beam that flew over him then continued across the stage. Instead, the beam struck one of the High Mages.

Sehn felt something deep inside his chest at the sight of the man on the receiving end of Duncan’s magic. He looked as though he wanted to scream, yet he clutched his throat and no sound came out of his open mouth. The pain that he was in…it must have been unimaginable. His skin began to sizzle on every inch of his body, his jaw half broke away and dangled off his face, and his eyes popped out of their sockets. Even his teeth fell out of his mouth one by one. Eventually there was nothing left of him but bone with a few pieces of cartilage.

Issius, Archmage Bennet, and quite a few others had run to his side, but not one of them were able to help. He’d died so quickly. And the thing that had killed him…it had been meant for Sehn.

For just a few seconds, Sehn took a breath and held it in his lungs. When he released it, he could feel the grin that’d been planted on his lips up until now give way to a frown. Suddenly, this was no longer funny.

Then came the anger, and it came on quickly, too: far more quickly than he’d thought possible. It wasn’t the usual sort of anger, either, but the deeper kind. The dangerous kind. It was a raw, burning sensation that originated from his gut and gave him the unbearable desire to clench his teeth.

“You will regret that,” Sehn warned him.

“Will I now?”

Rather than reply, Sehn charged at the Archmage, his sword still raised and gripped tightly in both hands. But closing the distance proved more difficult than simply running up to him, as Duncan began firing off several more of the pink beams, each emerging from his staff and each moving with great speed towards him.

The first came in low, and Sehn jumped over it. The second went wide and burned a small hole in the stage. But it was the third that came in too fast and at too close a distance to maneuver around, and it nearly killed him.

Sehn threw himself forward at the stage floor, entering a roll and avoiding the deadly beam of light, and then he hopped back up to his feet in one smooth, continuous motion. Now he was just a small distance away from the Archmage, who sent yet another pink beam of light at him. This, too, was also a close call.

Sehn spun his body ninety degrees to the right in order to avoid the beam, which would’ve struck him in his shoulder. It came in fast and flew right under his chin where it then continued to zip across the stage. Sehn traced its movement with his eyes. Then he gasped.

No!

A moment of panic seized control of him. The beam was heading in a path straight for Cah’lia. Sehn opened his mouth to chant a spell, something that would save her. But his fear clouded his thinking, and all he did instead was stare openmouthed, watching in horror as it honed in on her. She didn’t even look as though she saw it coming. But rather than take her life, the beam stopped short and disappeared after colliding with a yellow-orange light that bloomed into existence just in front of Cah’lia’s face.

“I made it,” Issius said, panting. He now stood close enough to Cah’lia that the two could link arms. “Sehn, don’t worry about your friends. Worry about Duncan. As in
right now
!”

For the second time, the distraction almost got him killed. Now that Duncan was so close, the pinkish beam of light he sent at Sehn moved at a speed that he could not begin to dodge, let alone mumble a spell to protect himself. In just a fraction of a second, it moved from the end of Duncan’s staff to less than a foot in front of Sehn’s eyes. And to his terror, he realized there was nothing he could do to stop it.

That was why it came as a surprise to him when the beam met its end after hitting something transparent, prism-shaped, and glasslike in appearance. Sehn had seen it before—through the eyes of Estelle when she’d saved Shina. It was a barrier that, for some reason, she knew how to make but
he
didn’t, which was bullshit! How dare she know magic that he didn’t know?

Sehn felt a tiny pressure on his scalp. He lifted his eyes and realized Estelle was standing on top of his head, breathing heavily. “I should’a done that quicker, but I’m so exhausted ‘cause I did a lot today.”

“You…saved me?” Sehn whispered.

“Yep-yep-mhmm!”

“I’ll kill you for this!” Sehn snapped, swatting the spot where she stood. All he ended up doing was hitting himself on the head. Estelle was far too fast. She jumped off and then flew circles in the air around his face.

“Stop being mean! I just saved you.”

“Saved me? Don’t be ridiculous. The magic would have bounced off me from the force of my greatness. And I told you and the others to stay out of this.”

“I don’t have to, nope-nope! I’m your greater summon. So I get to be here.”

Sehn prepared to chastise her for saying something so stupid, but when he thought on it, he realized it actually made sense. “I suppose you do have a point,” he admitted. “You’re a spell I created to aid me in combat.”

“No I’m not! I’m a person too. Yes I
am
.”

Sehn ignored her and focused his attention on Duncan. He was tired of being put on the defensive; he wanted to counterattack. “
La’saala
Vi
Nara MAHR
!” he shouted.

Like before, a giant fist popped into existence in the air above Duncan’s head, intent on smashing down on him. Only, this time, a red mist appeared above the Archmage and the fist came to a complete stop as it tried to smash down on him. Shortly after it vanished into the same puff of purple smoke.

“I have not taken you seriously enough,” Duncan said “You have succeeded in surprising me—several times, in fact. But no more. I will not fall for your tricks again. Every success you’ve had thus far is a result of surprise and opportunity. But now, elf, that all comes to an end. You will not humiliate me further.”