Lady Luck Is A Tsundere

Valentina launched her next attack immediately, this time transforming the floor beneath me into a surface so frictionless I lost my footing instantly. As I slipped, she transmuted the air into hundreds of tiny needles of solidified oxygen, sending them hurtling toward me.

I managed to raise a shaky shield, catching most of the projectiles, but several pierced through, embedding themselves in my arm and shoulder. They melted back into gas almost immediately, leaving no wounds but sending jolts of numbing cold through my body.

"Notice the precision!" Professor Blackthorn called out. "Transmuting gaseous elements into solids requires exceptional focus!"

I staggered to my feet, my limbs heavy and unresponsive from the cold. Valentina was already preparing her next assault, her hands weaving complex patterns that made the very air shimmer with potential energy.

This wasn't going well. At this rate, I'd be unconscious in minutes. I needed something unexpected, something even my opponent wouldn't see coming.

An idea struck me, one just desperate enough to work. Or backfire catastrophically. With my luck, either outcome was equally likely.

As Valentina completed her next transmutation, turning the platform beneath my feet into what appeared to be quicksand, I didn't try to escape. Instead, I deliberately sank deeper, simultaneously casting a spell my mother had taught me years ago. It was meant for hardening clay in pottery (a failed hobby of my mother), a simple transmutation that solidified loose material.

The quicksand around me began to harden, but not in the way I'd intended. Instead of solidifying evenly, it crystallized in jagged formations that spread across the entire platform, racing toward Valentina like a wave of glass spikes.

She reacted instantly, transmuting the approaching crystals into harmless vapor, but the unexpected counterattack had forced her on the defensive for the first time.

"Third lesson!" Professor Blackthorn announced, practically bouncing with excitement. "Use your opponent's strength against them!"

I'd bought myself a moment, but I was still half-buried in semi-solidified quicksand. Valentina recovered quickly, her annoyance visible as she prepared yet another assault.

"Enough playing around," she said, her voice cold with determination.

The air above the arena began to swirl, condensing into a miniature storm cloud crackling with electricity. I knew what was coming next, a lightning strike that would end this duel decisively. Even if it wouldn't kill me thanks to the academy's protections, it would certainly render me unconscious.

I braced myself, trying desperately to think of a counter-spell, anything that might deflect or absorb the impending attack. But my repertoire was limited, and my position was precarious at best.

As the first bolt of lightning lanced down from Valentina's storm cloud, something unexpected happened. Not my luck this time, at least, not directly. The lightning struck the crystallized quicksand surrounding me, which should have conducted the electricity straight to my body. Instead, the crystals absorbed the energy, glowing with an inner light that pulsed in rhythm with my heartbeat.

Both Valentina and I stared in confusion.

"Fascinating!" Professor Blackthorn exclaimed. "The crystallized silica has formed a perfect magical capacitor! A rare phenomenon indeed!"

I had no idea what she was talking about, but I wasn't about to question this unexpected reprieve. The energy from Valentina's lightning attack continued to flow into the crystal formation, causing it to glow brighter and brighter.

"Um, Professor?" I called out, suddenly concerned about the increasingly bright glow. "Is this supposed to happen?"

Professor Blackthorn's expression shifted from excitement to caution. "Not exactly. I suggest both duelists prepare fo…."

She never finished her sentence. The overcharged crystals exploded in a spectacular display of light and sound, sending both Valentina and me flying in opposite directions. I landed hard on my back, skidding to a stop just inches from the edge of the platform and the infinite void beyond.

When the dust settled and my vision cleared, I saw Valentina in a similar position on the opposite side. Her perfect uniform was torn and singed, her face smudged with dirt, and the blue streak on her nose now spread across one cheek like warpaint.

Despite everything, I couldn't help but laugh. The situation was too absurd, me, the cursed village boy, locked in magical combat with an imperial duchess, both of us sprawled ungracefully on our backsides.

To my utter shock, after a moment of stunned silence, Valentina began to laugh too. It started as a reluctant chuckle but quickly grew into genuine mirth that echoed through the void arena.

"I believe," Professor Blackthorn announced, stepping back into the circle as the protective barriers came down, "that we'll call this particular demonstration a draw."

She helped me to my feet, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "That was quite possibly the most entertainingly chaotic freshman duel I've witnessed in a while. Absolutely dreadful technique, Mr. Ardent, but remarkable... adaptability."

I brushed crystal dust from my uniform, wincing at several new bruises. "Thank you?"

Valentina had already risen, attempting to salvage what remained of her dignity by straightening her tattered uniform. When she approached, I tensed, expecting renewed hostility.

Instead, she extended her hand. "Not bad, Ardent. For someone who clearly has no idea what they're doing."

I cautiously accepted the handshake. "Coming from you, I'll take that as high praise."

"Don't get used to it," she replied, but there was a grudging respect in her eyes that hadn't been there before. "And I still expect you to find a way to fix my hair."

"Fourth lesson," Professor Blackthorn announced to the class as they filed back into the normal world, "a worthy opponent is worth their weight in gold, even if they arrive in the form of an enemy."

The rest of the class gathered around us as we exited the void arena, most looking at me with newfound curiosity. Finn pushed through the crowd, clapping me on the shoulder.

"You magnificent disaster!" he exclaimed. "Only you could turn certain defeat into accidental pyrotechnics!"

Gavril followed close behind, his expression more concerned than celebratory. "Are you alright? That explosion looked... intense."

"I'm fine," I assured him, though in truth every muscle in my body ached, and there was a strange buzzing sensation at the base of my skull that hadn't been there before.

"Alright, everyone!" Professor Blackthorn called out. "That was merely the introduction. Now let's discuss the theoretical foundations of combat magic, specifically focusing on the control aspects that our volunteers so spectacularly failed to demonstrate!"

The class laughed, and even I managed a smile. As we settled onto enchanted floating cushions that materialized across the training field, Professor Blackthorn began her lecture in earnest.

"Combat magic requires three fundamental components: intent, control, and adaptation. Intent without control leads to destruction. Control without adaptation leads to predictability. And adaptation without clear intent leads to..."

She gestured toward me with a knowing smile. "Well, let's just say unexpected results."

The lecture continued, with Professor Blackthorn demonstrating various combat stances and focusing techniques. I tried to pay attention, I really did, but the buzzing in my head was growing louder, and the edges of my vision had begun to blur.

I remembered Lady Althea's warning too late… Does a magical duel that ended in an explosion qualify as "strenuous"?

I raised my hand, intending to ask for permission to visit the infirmary, but the words died in my throat as the buzzing sensation exploded into blinding light behind my eyes.

The last thing I heard was Finn's alarmed voice saying, "Asher? You okay mate?"

Then darkness claimed me for the second time in a few days, and I fell into dreams filled with amber eyes, blue hair, and the distant laughter of a force that sounded suspiciously like luck itself.