The Good Teacher

Even amidst the dense fog lingering over the field, Markus' sight was as clear as though it were any regular day. Nothing was occluded from his spacetime vision. Cleo thought she had finally pulled the wool over his eyes, seeing as her technique worked every single time it was put into use. She was also confident that with his regular senses clipped within his mana domain, Markus wouldn't be able to predict her location or actions.

However, every attack she threw Markus' way was dodged without the slightest falter. Even some of the faster slashes would miss him by a hair's breadth as though he had predicted its trajectory. What she didn't know was that without the distractions from his regular sensors, every single attack was telegraphed in his perception.

"STOP DODGING!" A rage-filled bellow echoed within the blanket of fog.

"TAKE IT LIKE A MAN, DAMN IT!"

"What does my masculinity have-" Markus side-stepped to avoid an overhead slash, "-anything to do with your inability-" he ducked to barely miss a frontal slash, "-to land an attack on me?"

Cleo was thoroughly miffed. She didn't miss the fact that Markus was essentially dodging with his eyes closed. She had no idea what magic he was using to sense her attacks!

"I can do this all day," Markus sighed. Then suddenly, he jerked his head sideways and looked directly into the fog. Even though his sight was occluded by the mist, his pupils were focussed on a single point. He raised his wand and flicked both his hands towards the direction he was facing. "But I don't feel like wasting time..."

The ground started to rumble once again. Cleo expected the ground to wave again like before, but within this mist, no spell could shake her... above ground.

The ground shattered with a hole as a torrent of water gushed out in her direction. It all happened within a split second, leaving Cleo only enough time to bring her blade forward to block the attack.

The reason Markus was stalling for time earlier was that although he couldn't manipulate the mana above ground, he was afforded free reign under. In his predicament, Markus was left with two options. He could either tap into his mana and transmute it to fuel his attacks, or he could search for alternate sources. Even if he had barely dented his mana reserves, Markus preferred to go with the latter method since he found that his opponent had less influence over his actions the less he depended on mana to bridge the gaps in his spells.

For instance, if he started transmuting his mana to burn fuel to propel |Fireball| or other fire-based spells, Cleo would know of this in advance and she could intercept his spell by tampering with the ambient mana (which was fully within her control at the moment). So, Markus extended his senses underground in search of any "fuels" for his attacks. He knew that his ground attacks from before wouldn't be effective in this situation since he could not follow up with another attack given his restricted mana domain. After a few minutes of fruitless searching, Markus stumbled upon the Sect's sewage system flowing right beneath the combat field.

The sewage system was overflowing with water, amongst other things. Furthermore, the region was not under Cleo's control since she didn't deign to restrict him there. Maybe it was her oversight wrought by arrogance or ignorance, nonetheless, it was enough to turn the table to Markus' advantage.

Back in the orphanage, Markus had once seen his Master utilise a bucket of water to clean and properly carve out the near decrepit steps. His Master used a spell that pressurised the water and released it with a destructive spray that literally cut through the stone. He then used a low powered version of the spell to remove the gunk, fungus and moss coating the surface that would cause the surface to turn slippery during rainfall. Markus was floored by the power of a mundane and commonplace item such as water.

"A river can carve through mountains if given enough time. I'm just speeding up the process," his Master had joked.

A similar but violently more destructive spray collided against Cleo's blade, whose enchantments had all been activated in defence. The mist surrounding him had started to dissipate, as Cleo was forced to turn her full attention to protect herself. She could literally feel the destructive power of the attack!

As the fog finally descended, Markus turned from using the sewage as the source and started to call in the ambient moisture. With his control over the environment back in place, he could now literally recycle the water being used in the attack.

A barely audible crack formed on the blade, which was known to be able to withstand blows of a Core Formation realm mage. Cleo's eyeballs nearly burst out of their sockets, and her control almost faltered as the small crack started to grow with a webbing pattern.

She could no longer maintain her defence. If she held any longer, then the blade would shatter. While she could commission a new one, nothing was more disgraceful for a bladesman that having their weapon, which is like an extension of their body, shatter in public. She grit her teeth and dropped the blade, which was also a disgraceful move, and switched to a |Greater Ward|. But the attack was far too concentrated, and her ward also started to display visible cracks.

SHATTER!

Like glass breaking, Cleo's final defence fell through and she was attacked by a million knife-like collisions of water particles. Her clothes shredded immediately, and so did the peripheral skin around her abdomen. Then, once again, she was flung backwards like a ragdoll, rolling a few times before falling face-first with a mighty plop.

If compared to her appearance when she landed on stage, Cleo had been completely defiled. Her demure, lady-like aura had turned to match that of an unclean hag who hadn't washed, bathed, or managed her hygiene for years on end. Her marble-white and smooth face was filled with pockmarks through acidic corrosion and darkened through a mixture of soot deposits, acid charring, and general sewage waste. Her divine clothes had been fully shredded and sullied with the same residues marring her entire body. The only thing keeping her dignity intact was the far superior material composition of her innerwear made of wyvern skin.

"Y-You!" She uttered with a hoarse voice while cradling her abdomen with a hunch.

"Is the match over?" Markus asked the referee, seeing as the girl had entered a feverish trance.

"Umm," the man turned towards the girl to gauge her reaction. But the girl looked away immediately, with faint fear in her eyes. Her arrogance had dissipated, and now she was regretting her actions. But, there was nothing she could do. She had initiated the Life-and-Death Formation. The match couldn't terminate until only one person remained alive on stage. All she could hope for was the arrival of an elder, any elder, to terminate the formation. She was willing to throw away all of her pride to save her from this embarrassment.

"In that case," Markus sighed. "I will play one last spell."

Cleo was winded, she couldn't physically move. She could only look on in fright, as one spell circle after another started to burst out from Markus' hands.

One.

Two.

Three.

.

.

.

Nine.

Ten.

Cleo's eyes widened as the eleventh spell circle fell into place, with a circumference larger than the others preceding it. One by one each previous circle found its home at the eleventh's periphery. Right as the final circle fell into place, the entire ensemble gained a luminous purple shade and started to spin at an unusually fast velocity.

sssssssssssssssSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

An ear-piercing sound burst out from the centre of the rotating circle, as a small dot of nothingness began forming. The vortex started to pull everything around it like a voracious demon. The wind, the water, and even the ground started to levitate and converge at the point, only to stop at a small distance away from it forming some kind of a protective shield. Not that it needed one, Cleo could feel the pure death oozing from the small dot.

She had never seen anything like this before. She had never felt fear like this before. Maybe it was because her spirit had been thoroughly crushed by the one-sided beating she received earlier, but none of her brothers or even her father could scare her to such an extent.

It was the fear of the unknown.

Cleo's confidence stemmed from the fact that she was always in control. She was the Clan Leader's most doted upon daughter. The golden child. She had all the power in the world, and she knew everything. Well... apparently there was a lapse somewhere, and it was about to cost her... a lot.

____

For Markus, there was an insurmountable wall before him ever since his defeat at Gaige's hands. No matter what people told him to assuage his depression, he could never get over that hurdle in his mind. However, he tried.

Every day since his defeat, he pursued ways to win against Gaige. He didn't want to lose anymore. He would formulate a strategy, and immediately pit himself against Gaige to see if he would win. If not, he would try, and try again.

Markus had formed a benchmark to test his mettle against, and he always sought to beat that benchmark. Yet, to date, he could still not defeat Gaige in combat.

What Markus did not realise was that his perception of Gaige's strength grew with his own. In his pursuit of excellence and superiority, somewhere along the way, Markus had left Gaige behind him.

It was in his character to doubt himself. At every point in his internal simulation, when he was about to trounce Gaige, Markus would subconsciously formulate a scenario where his opponent would find a weakness or lapse and regain the advantage. This defeat would spur Markus to think harder and try alternate strategies, each more brilliant and ingenious than the last.

In the end, Markus had formed a nearly unbeatable strategy. To leverage the superior efficiency of his spellcasting to pressure the opponent into a corner. After advancing to the Foundation Establishment realm, he could even leverage his intermittent ability to control spacetime to cause his opponents to make missteps. Every combatant runs mental calculations when fighting. But tampering with their internal model of self - that is by changing their weight - their flow would be interrupted allowing Markus to steal the initiative.

'This was too easy,' Markus sighed. 'Gaige could have easily used his bloodline ability to pressure me from the start. I overestimated this girl.'

"Prepare yourself," Markus declared out loud. Then, he uttered the name of the attack he was about to throw her way. Actually, there was no pre-existing name for what it was in Markus' tongue. But his Master had defined a word in another, cryptic language. It wasn't Ancient tongue, nor was it a language from this globe, according to Mage Nara. Nevertheless, the meaning of the word perfectly defined his attack.

"|Singularity|," Markus said as he released the attack. Even through the shrill, banshee-like scream bellowing from the nothing-ball of terror, his voice carrying the name of the monstrosity echoed across the field and into Cleo's ears.