Fallen Mage Regressor

"Get your hands off him!"

The demon went flying and crashed into the wall with a loud thud. Cracks like spiderwebs spread out from the point of impact. Mal collapsed to the ground without the support of the demon's hand wrapped around his throat, he coughed, his eyes watering, every breath more of a pained wheeze.

Someone placed their hands on his shoulder. "Honorable leader? Are you well?"

Mal blinked the tears from his eyes and looked up at the face of his rescuer. "Rolam?"

Rolam stepped back and stood to his full height. He put his hands on his hips and grinned. "Indeed. This honorable one has come to the rescue!"

Philo picked himself off the ground and glared at Rolam. But even Mal could tell that the expression had about as much intensity as the pout of a particularly angry puppy.

"Great, the elf is here," he said.

Rolam's face fell. "Great, the reptile is here."

There was a loud thump and the roof shook. Dust fell out of the rafters and into Mal's eye, causing him to blink several times.

"How… DARE YOU!"

The demon, who up to this point had been silent, pulled himself up and glared daggers at Rolam.

"I was in the middle of something, you impetuous child," the demon growled. "A mere first-year student, touching me? A full-fledged demon?"

Mal pulled himself to his feet and rapidly started evaluating his chances.

There was a large bruise on the side of the demon's face, presumably from where Rolam had attacked him. Under normal circumstances, Rolam would've never been allowed to get that close. The demon's spells would've warded him off. But due to the distraction that Mal had unintentionally provided, Philo had been able to deal significant damage.

A few more good strikes like that and the demon would be down for the count.

"I'm going to kill all of you!" Spittle dripped from the demon's chin. After that outburst, "I'm going to rip the flesh from your bones and use them as a blanket! I'm going to suck the marrow from your bones! I'm going to tear out your teeth and collect them in a jar! I'm going to—"

"Blah, blah, blah," Mal said. "Are you going to keep talking or are we going to fight?"

The demon fell silent. Both Rolam and Philo looked at Mal with eyes as wide as dinner plates.

Philo gulped and stepped back. "Philo does not think the insulting of a demon is advisable."

"A demon!?" Rolam looked over at the demon and his face turned a pale white. "I'm beginning to think that we're in over our head, honored leader."

The demon's claws twitched.

"I'm going to enjoy every second of this," it said.

It held out its hand and an arcane bolt rushed past all three and toward the air in front of the doorway. It turned opaque, a strange sheen appearing like glass had been inserted in the door frame.

Philo ran toward the open door and his body crashed into the air. He tumbled backwards and stared at the door frame in shock. "But there's nothing in the way?"

Mal didn't remove his eyes from the demon. "It froze the air. It's not going to let any one of us go."

Philo's face crumpled up in pain. "And for a moment, Philo actually thought he might escape the situation."

Rolam's hands shook. "Don't be a coward, reptile. Conduct yourself with honor. We must face our foe head-on and die with dignity."

"Philo would rather not die at all, elf."

Mal cast a glare at the both of them. "No one's going to die."

"You're awfully certain, aren't you?" the demon said. "And just because one more person has arrived? How absolutely laughable. You don't have the slightest grasp of the situation."

Mal snorted and turned back to face the demon.

"Philo," Mal said, his tone lower than before. "Our job is going to be creating an opening. We delay and distract. Understood?"

"W–what? Philo doesn't understand."

"Rolam," Mal said, completely ignoring Philo. "Stick to the side, wait for him to become distracted by us. When that happens, do as much damage as you can, then get out of his range."

"Honored leader, do you really think we can—?"

"Save it!" Mal shot a glare at both of them. "We either fight here for a chance to survive, or we die. Those are your two options. I don't know about you two, but I've got a lot of things I need to get done before my death."

Rolam's hands twitched before he raised his fist into a boxer stance, his eyes sharp and pointed directly at the demon.

Philo's entire body shook like a leaf, but he still managed to hold out his palm. Mana flowed into him from the outside and it was clear that he was starting up a spell.

Mal turned back toward the demon. The anger in his heart drifted away, replaced with total calm.

Realistically, our odds haven't changed that much, Mal thought. At the end of the day, we're still just three first-year students against the demon. But where before, we had zero chance of victory, now there's at least a chance. And I intend to take that chance and squeeze it for everything it's worth.

Mal reached into his satchel and pulled out the ironskin potion he’d made but never used during the exam. He subtly passed it to Philo. Philo gave him a look, then drank it.

The demon's hands twitched. Its claws rose up into the air and Mal jumped backward. It slashed down and the claws drove deep gashes into the ground. Mal activated his thorn bracelet and the vines from the outside window creeped in and snaked around the demon's hands.

It snorted and flames lit up its entire body. The vines and branches disintegrated into ash.

Philo's spell finished and an arcane sphere flew out of his hand. The demon rolled his eyes and a shimmering shield flashed in front of it to block the attack.

"Now, Rolam!" Mal shouted.

Rolam jerked up and ran forward, his legs tensing for a clear kick to the demon's midsection.

The demon growled. It dived backward—

and right into Mal's strike to the back of its head.

The demon barked like a dog and stumbled backward. Its eyes twitched and beat like a pulsing heart.

"You little—!"

"Don't stop, you idiots!" Mal shouted. "Follow up!"

Rolam ran forward, only to meet the claws of the demon. Rolam was forced to jump back to avoid being sliced to ribbons. Philo finished charging up another attack and launched an arcane sphere at the demon. It blocked with the shield and took a step back, getting out of Mal's range while also protecting himself from the arcane sphere.

"Philo," Mal said. "Remember that spell effect that we just learned? Pull?"

"Philo remembers. But how will that help? The demon will just use a shield?"

"Don't use it on the demon!"

Philo's eyes widened in understanding. An arcane sphere lashed out in the general direction of the demon. Its eyes narrowed and it held out its hand and created another shield.

The arcane sphere went wide, missing the demon by a huge margin. It blinked in confusion.

Mal jumped forward with a kick aimed for its head. The demon, startled, stumbled backward and away from Mal.

The arcane sphere hit a table behind the demon. The spell effect activated, and it flew toward Philo like a fish being pulled in by a line.

Unfortunately, there was a demon in the way.

The table slammed into the demon's back and it stumbled forward from the force of the blow. Rolam took two quick steps and delivered a hard kick directly to the demon's chin. Its eyes rolled back in its head and its whole body went limp for a single split second. Mal followed up with a right hook to the cheek and it crumpled to the ground. Mal brought his foot up so that he could give a hard stomp to the skull when its claws flashed as they reflected the light.

Mal dived backward, but he'd been a split second too late. The claws cleaved right through his robes and drove long gashes across his chest.

He hissed from the pain as he stumbled backward. Blood flowed from the wounds and between his robe and skin, sticking the two together like hot glue.

The demon pushed itself to its feet.

"The idea," it said. "The idea, the idea, the idea that MERE FIRST-YEARS WOULD TOUCH A DEMON!"

It roared at the top of its lungs and mana streamed into its body like a river filling up a dam.

"It's about to pull off something big," Mal took a step back. "Find cover!"

Rolam dived behind the table that had managed to pull itself all the way to Philo. Philo held out his hand and a flickering shield appeared in front of him. Mal dropped to the ground and dived behind Philo.

A wave of heat and energy burst through the small room. Philo's shield collapsed from the pressure and he flew backwards and into Mal, throwing them both into the wall. Rolam tumbled backward backward, with his table crashing into him, then coming to a stop thanks to the legs hitting the wall.

The heat slowly died down until all that was left was an uncomfortable swelter. Mal poked out from behind Philo's limp body. The blast had been so strong that glass shards from the window had managed to roll all the way toward Mal.

His hand reached into his satchel and wrapped around the neck of a bottle.

The demon was gone.

Rolam peeked from his table. "Is it over?"

A gust of wind.

The demon's eyes glittered, blood-red and full of bloodlust. Its claws were already in the air, diving down directly toward Philo's chest. Mal pulled the bottle out of his satchel and began to throw it toward the demon.

Mal was too slow. He couldn't beat the demon's speed.

But it didn't matter.

Its claws crashed into Philo's skin, then bounced off.

The demon’s eyes shot wide open. “I’ve killed draconids before, how—?”

Ironskin potion, bastard.

Mal knew that the next killing blow would go for Philo. He was the biggest complication for the demon.

And his gamble had paid off.

Mal completed his throwing motion and the bottle flew forward and crashed into the demon's head. The brown liquid splashed its face and it stumbled backward.

Its eyes drooped and its hands fell over.

Mal tossed aside Philo's limp body. He snatched a piece of glass off the ground and jumped into the air, shard pointed at the creature's neck.

It didn't dodge.

Mal had made sure of it, after all. A potion of restfulness deposited directly into your face, even if not ingested, would cause exhaustion. Especially if you're already worn out from a huge spell.

The demon roared, it’s eyes snapped open, and it slashed out at his head.

Time slowed to a stop.

Imposible. Damn it, he'd won, how could that bastard have cheated!

Think, think, think, there has to be something?

Mal frantically ran through every option he had in his arsenal. Over and over, the answer was the same.

Mal was weak.

It had all been pointless, it had all been to no avail.

He was going to die here.

Please, he thought. Not like this!

The Bramblevine bracelet shifted.

He only had a split-second of confusion before vines burst out of the wood floor faster than Mal had ever seen, wrapping around the demon and freezing it in place.

The shard of glass ripped into the demon's neck.

It gave a startled cry. The vines unwrapped. Its hands reached up uselessly toward its neck—its own claws scratching up its skin even further. It fell to the ground. It rolled around, desperate, trying anything, anything at all—

it gave one final wheeze and then its body went limp.

Its chest started to glow. It grew brighter and brighter until the entire body lit up in flames. The fire swiftly disintegrated the body into nothing. For a few seconds, the center was exposed, revealing a bright red orb—the brightest part of the demon's remains. The orb flickered and disappeared. By the end, the only thing left was a single red horn.

Mal glanced around and took the horn in such a way that Philo and Rolam couldn't see what he'd taken. He stuffed it into his satchel, then turned back around.

He clapped his hands together. "So," he said. "Good work, everyone."

Rolam, the only one who was awake, looked at him, then fainted.

The door slammed open, revealing Igna, Vigil, Cassandra, and Headmaster Puck. Behind the teachers, there was a small army of Keepers, all equipped with staves and wands pointed directly at Mal.

Mal snorted. "Took you long enough."

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