Death, Devotion, Dissonance

But Phel saw that the other dozen defensive spells were still standing strong. Arza only managed to shatter through 15 of them, but seemed like he was stuck on the 16th one. His fist was bleeding from the knuckles and a faint pink smoke was swaying from the wound. It looked basically the same as how he looked like when he had his fist stuck between the pseudo-metal that the Tenarak user first created.

Phel felt disappointed by the fact that Arza wasn't able to penetrate the defenses, but a part of him was also glad, since it meant that Arza's dash was not unstoppable. He wondered what would happen next, now that Arza's momentum was stalled, but then Arza picked up a small stone from the ground and threw it at his designated target. 

The stone shattered the remaining three defensive spells, before landing heavily on the target's lower abdomen. He was pushed back a bit, before he rolled away, holding his bloody wound with his hands. Phel winced, imagining the pain the victim must've been feeling, but his eyes involuntarily fell on Arza again.

"Fourth victory. That was a close one," the red-haired boy sighed out in relief, before designating another girl his next victim. "19… 18…" As he started his next countdown, he grasped at another batch of lodestones and absorbed five of them.

At this moment, Phel realized what was going on. Someone else also must've noticed it, as he heard a panicked voice coming from the crowd.

"Is he using a Conditional Absolute?!"

Phel was also in agreement with the idea, so he was also screaming inside his head. 'Isn't he only 10? What the fuck is even going on?' 

If one thought about it a bit, the answer would immediately become obvious. Him designating one person as his target; his countdowns which increased by three seconds each time he dashed; him standing in place while he counted; the abnormally large mana intake of his spell; and of course, the mind-blowing effects of his spell. 

If his chant had any truth to it, his bones were nigh indestructible, his muscles were stronger than mythical heroes, his fists could destroy anything made of maintained with magic. And on top of it all, he could dash impossible distances before anyone could even blink.

'Actually, it's better if it's a Conditional Absolute,' Phel decided. 'If these effects didn't have any drawbacks, then it would be even more unfair.'

"Shut up! Don't think about useless things and recreate the same defenses again. And after he gets stuck like last time, you use this to block his follow up attack!" Decatur barked out his orders and gave the target a Talisman.

Although he told everyone to not think about it, Phel immediately realized that Decatur was treating it as if he was dealing with a Conditional Absolute. The acting Count must've realized that if he really was dealing with something like this, then he should target its weakness.

As for what that weakness was, Decatur must've deduced it from how Arza was acting and what he was saying. The red-haired boy stopped in place after his dash was stopped and had to throw a rock to knock out his target. Then he commented that it was a close one, meaning that most likely, Arza had a prerequisite of having to knock out his opponent before being able to dash again.

Conditional Absolutes were strong, but like its name said, they needed to fulfill conditions to work properly. And it was common knowledge that a popular way of setting disadvantages was to add a failure penalty. So theoretically, a mage could use an overpowered spell over and over again, as long as they didn't fail a certain condition they set for themselves beforehand. 

'Dec must be betting on the fact that there must be a certain penalty if Arza fails to incapacitate his target,' Phel realized and couldn't help but admire Decatur.

He could think about all these things because he was spectating the fight, but for Decatur to be able to realize these things and even create countermeasures while he's still fighting was nothing less than impressive. 

"3… 2… 1…" Arza finished counting down, and disappeared from his location. But the cacophony of sounds didn't occur this time, instead, a painful shriek escaped the target girl's mouth. 

Confused, Phel looked towards her, to see what was happening, and saw that her left hand, which was holding the Talisman, now had a bloody hole in the middle. A small, bloodied stone could be found lying on the ground next to her.

Then, Phel's eyes caught the sight of Arza' standing casually a dozen steps to the girl's side, his torso slightly tilted backwards, as if he was struggling to stop the momentum of his dash. Something told Phel that Arza must've avoided dashing through the layers of defensive spells blocking his way, and dashed to the side, so that he could have a clear shot at his target… but Phel's mind was on another thing. 

Seeing the girl struggling to look at the gaping hole in her palm, Phel once again cringed uncontrollably. But he could tell that Arza was trying his best to hold back on his attacks, never inflicting more damage than he needed to… except this time, his victim did not lose consciousness like the rest before her.

'Is his spell finally going to get canceled? Should I help him out if the penalty kicks in?' Phel wondered, but the fact didn't seem to bother Arza, as he designated another target as if nothing happened.

"Fifth victory. Next one… is you over there. 22… 21… 20…"

And although he dashed towards a spot close to another student, he didn't even bother attacking him as the latter scrambled away from him with panic.

'So the condition for the next dash isn't incapacitating the opponent.'

Decatur also seemed confused, but he didn't allow himself to fall into confusion and immediately barked orders at the next target, "Get as far away from here as possible!"

The new target seemed flustered at first, but nodded resolutely, and dashed towards the path outside. Of course, Phel was standing in his path, so he definitely wasn't going to let the target get any further.

Without hesitation, Phel stepped froward from the corridor and brought out a Talisman. The three lodestones worth of mana in his core immediately disappeared into the Rune drawn on the Talisman, and in turn, the Talisman created a large body of water that filled the entrance to the corridor and turned into ice. 

A brief pause later, Phel saw powerful spells falling on his ice, but he knew that they weren't strong enough to penetrate it until the countdown was finished.

"Dispel your ice, you traitor!" the next target demanded from him.

"At least you won't die."