Cid burst out of the building, his movements unnaturally swift, propelled by a power that defied conventional enhancement magic. Unlike the typical spells used by most mages, which amplified physical abilities through structured aether channels, Cid’s speed seemed almost fluid, as if he were bending the very air around him to his will. It was a strange, almost otherworldly energy—one that left no visible traces but carried him across the field in a blur, his feet barely touching the ground.
He ran with single-minded determination, his breath coming in sharp, controlled bursts as he put as much distance as possible between himself and Johannes. Cid knew all too well who Johannes was—a senior Arcane Eye student, an honor graduate, and a skilled combatant with a reputation for being both relentless and resourceful. Under normal circumstances, Cid might have stood his ground, confident in his own abilities. But Johannes possessed a particular trait that made him uniquely dangerous to Cid.
Cid’s mind raced as he sprinted across the field, the tall grass whipping against his legs. He couldn’t afford to fight Johannes head-on, not here, not now. The risk was too great. If Johannes managed to freeze his aether or trap him in an icy prison, it would all be over. Cid’s only option was to flee, to buy himself enough time to get in contact with Scarlet or John and escape.
Behind him, he could hear the faint crunch of footsteps and the low hum of Johannes’ blade cutting through the air. Cid didn’t dare look back. He knew Johannes would be closing in, his icy aura already making the air around them grow colder. The chill bit at Cid’s skin, a stark reminder of the danger he was in.
In a blinding flash of speed, Johannes materialized in front of Cid, his movements so swift they almost couldn’t be seen. The air around him shimmered faintly, a residual effect of the magic that propelled him forward. In his hand, he held a blade that glistened with an icy sheen, its surface wreathed in a cold, swirling mist that seemed to sap the warmth from the air itself.
Without hesitation, Johannes slashed toward Cid, the blade cutting through the air with a sharp, icy whistle. Cid barely registered the attack in time, his instincts screaming at him to move. He threw his body backward, the blade missing him by mere inches as it sliced through the space where his chest had been just a moment before. The cold mist trailing the blade brushed against his skin, leaving a faint layer of frost in its wake.
The sudden motion threw Cid off balance, and he stumbled, his feet tangling beneath him. The momentum from his desperate dodge carried him forward, and he hit the ground hard, tumbling across the rough terrain. His body rolled uncontrollably, the world spinning around him in a chaotic blur of sky, grass, and shadow. Dirt and debris clung to his clothes as he finally came to a stop, sprawled in the open field, his chest heaving from the exertion.
Johannes, meanwhile, skidded to a halt about thirty feet away, his boots digging into the earth as he steadied himself. His blade remained raised, the icy mist curling around the metal like a living thing. His piercing gaze never left Cid, his expression a mix of cold determination and barely restrained fury. The air between them crackled with tension, the silence broken only by the faint sound of Johannes’ blade humming and Cid’s labored breathing.
Cid pushed himself up onto his elbows, wincing as he assessed the situation. His body ached from the fall, and his mind raced as he tried to formulate a plan. Johannes was faster than he’d anticipated, and the icy aura emanating from his blade suggested touching the blade with any part of his body was out of the question. Cid’s strange power still thrummed within him, but it felt unstable, as if it might slip from his grasp at any moment.
Johannes: “You’re not getting away,” he said, his voice calm but laced with an edge that sent a shiver down Cid’s spine.
Cid’s eyes narrowed as he slowly got to his feet, brushing dirt and grass from his clothes. His mind raced, searching for a way out, but Johannes was already closing the distance between them, his blade gleaming in the dim light. The cold mist trailing the weapon seemed to grow thicker, the temperature around them dropping rapidly.
Cid: “Fuck me,” he muttered under his breath, his voice low but laced with frustration. “Of all the people to chase after me, why did it have to be you? The student that was born under the star of the Noble Swordsman.” He took a cautious step back, his hands twitching as he prepared to summon his aether.
Cid’s mind raced, calculating the odds of escaping this confrontation unscathed. Johannes Scefer wasn’t just any opponent—he was a wildcard, a variable he couldn’t fully account for.
During his experiments with the Book of Grand Design, Cid had discovered that certain individuals defied the book’s predictions. Their fates were shrouded, their actions unpredictable, and their very presence seemed to warp the cause-and-effect relationships the book relied on. Johannes was one of those individuals. Born under the constellation of the Noble Swordsman, Johannes possessed a connection to a cosmic body that was powerful enough to disrupt the Book of Grand Design. Cid had first realized this when he attempted to eliminate Edward. The proximity to Johannes had thrown off the book’s calculations, allowing the undead to survive longer than it should have. At the time, Cid had blamed the anomaly on Johannes' celestial connection before he discovered Alan’s mysterious connection to an outsider.
Johannes: “Is that supposed to mean something?” the nobleman asked, his tone incredulous as he narrowed his eyes at Cid. His grip on his blade tightened, the icy mist curling around the weapon like a living thing.
Cid smirked, though there was no humor in it.
Cid: “Go ask a fortune teller,” he shot back, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He wasn’t about to explain himself.
Johannes’ expression darkened, his patience wearing thin.
Johannes: “Fine. If you won’t tell me anything else, at least answer this: Was it really you who killed my brother?”
The question hung in the air, heavy and loaded. Cid hesitated, his mind racing as he weighed his options. Lying might buy him time. But in the end, Cid decided to answer honestly.
Cid: “Your brother was already dead when I got involved,” he said, his voice steady but devoid of emotion.
Johannes’ jaw tightened, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the hilt of his blade even tighter.
Johannes: “So, it’s true. You were working with Sorin and Sandra.”
Cid shook his head, his expression hardening.
Cid: “No, I wasn’t. But it doesn’t seem to matter, does it? You’ve already made up your mind about me.”
Johannes took a step forward, his blade glinting in the dim light. The icy mist around it seemed to grow thicker, the temperature dropping with every word.
Johannes
: “You’re right,” he said, his voice cold and final. “I have.”The air between them crackled with tension, the silence broken only by the faint hum of Johannes’ blade and the sound of Cid’s steady breathing. For a moment, neither of them moved, the weight of their shared history pressing down on them like a storm cloud ready to burst.
Then, with a roar, Johannes lunged forward, his blade slicing through the air with deadly precision. Cid braced himself, his aether flaring to life as he prepared to meet the attack head-on.
Cid raised his hand sharply, and with a low rumble, a massive block of earth erupted from the ground in front of him, forming a solid barrier between himself and Johannes. The wall of dirt and stone rose swiftly, its surface jagged and uneven, but Johannes didn’t falter. Not wanting to lose his momentum, he planted his feet firmly and launched himself into the air with a burst of superhuman strength, his physique enhanced by his magic. He soared nearly fifty feet into the sky, clearing the earthen barrier with ease, his icy blade gleaming in the sunlight as he locked his sights on Cid.
From his elevated position, Johannes swung his sword in a wide arc, sending a crescent-shaped blade of icy aether hurtling toward Cid. The attack sliced through the air with a sharp, whistling sound, leaving a trail of frost in its wake. Cid, seeing the attack coming, reacted instantly. He raised his hand, summoning a powerful gust of wind that roared forward to meet the icy blade. The two forces collided midair with a deafening crack, their energies canceling each other out in a burst of swirling mist and scattered debris.
But Cid wasn’t done. With his hand still raised, he gathered his aether, the energy coalescing into a massive ball of fire that grew larger than his own body. The flames roared and crackled, their heat distorting the air around them. With a swift motion, Cid launched the fireball at Johannes, who was still descending through the air.
Johannes, undeterred, adjusted his grip on his sword, the blade humming with icy energy. As the fireball hurtled toward him, he propelled himself forward with a burst of magic, his body moving like a comet. With a powerful thrust, he drove his blade directly into the heart of the fireball. The icy aether surrounding his sword clashed violently with the flames, causing the fireball to explode in a shower of sparks and steam. Johannes emerged unscathed, his momentum carrying him straight toward Cid.
Cid reacted quickly, summoning a burst of wind that propelled him backward a hundred feet, narrowly avoiding Johannes’ thrust. The force of the wind sent him hurtling through the air, his body twisting as he struggled to maintain control. Behind him, Johannes’ blade struck the ground with a thunderous impact, the icy aether surging outward in a wave. The ground within a thirty-foot radius froze instantly, and massive spikes of ice erupted from the earth, jagged and deadly. Thankfully, Cid had launched himself far enough to avoid the attack, though he could feel the chill of the ice even from a distance.
As Cid soared through the air, he focused his aether once more, creating a giant sphere of water where he was about to land. The water shimmered in the sunlight, its surface rippling as Cid crashed into it. The sphere absorbed his momentum, cushioning his fall as he floated inside for a brief moment. Then, with a flick of his hand, he dispersed the water, dropping himself gently onto the ground. He landed on his back with a grunt but quickly rolled to his feet, his movements fluid and practiced.
Cid stood, his chest heaving as he prepared himself for the next round. His eyes locked onto Johannes, who was already pulling his blade free from the frozen ground, his expression as cold and unyielding as the ice around him. The battlefield was a chaotic mess of scorched earth, jagged ice, and scattered debris, a testament to the sheer power both combatants wielded.
Cid wiped a streak of dirt from his face, his lips curling into a grim smile.
Cid: “You’re not making this easy,” he muttered, his voice barely audible over the crackling of melting ice and the faint hum of Johannes’ blade.
Johannes didn’t respond. He simply raised his sword, the icy mist around it swirling more violently, the air growing colder with every passing second. His eyes locked onto Cid, unblinking and unyielding, as he shifted his stance into a low, predatory crouch. The tension between them was palpable, the silence broken only by the faint hum of Johannes’ blade and the sound of their steady breaths.
Then, with a burst of impossible speed, Johannes lunged forward. He crossed the distance between them in an instant, his blade slicing through the air with a sharp, icy whistle. Cid barely had time to react. He sidestepped at the last moment, Johannes’ downward slash missing him by a hair’s breadth. The force of the attack sent a shockwave through the ground, cracking the earth and sending a spray of dirt and ice into the air.
Johannes didn’t pause. He pivoted on his heel, his movements fluid and precise, and slashed at Cid again. This time, the blade arced horizontally, aiming to cleave Cid in two. Cid bent backward, his body twisting like a reed in the wind, the icy edge of the blade grazing the fabric of his shirt. He could feel the cold bite of the mist trailing the sword, the frost clinging to his skin as he narrowly avoided the attack.
Somehow, Cid was keeping up. The two of them moved with such incredible speed that they appeared as mere blurs to anyone watching the fight unfold. Cid’s movements were erratic, but they were as fast as Johannes’. He ducked, weaved, and twisted, his body contorting as he narrowly avoided Johannes’ relentless onslaught. Each slash and thrust of Johannes’ icy blade came within inches of striking him, the cold mist trailing the weapon brushing against his skin and leaving a faint layer of frost in its wake. But Cid’s ability to dodge these attacks wasn’t just a matter of reflexes and instincts—it was something far more calculated.
The Book of Grand Design
was at work, its power flowing through him like a current. While the book’s predictions were unreliable when it came to Johannes—his connection to the constellation of the Noble Swordsman warping the usual cause-and-effect relationships—Cid could still peer a few seconds into the future. It wasn’t perfect, but it was enough to give him a glimpse of Johannes’ intentions, a fleeting window into the swordsman’s next move. Using this foresight, Cid adjusted his movements in real time, anticipating each attack and sidestepping it with razor-thin precision.But even with this advantage, Cid knew he couldn’t keep it up forever. Johannes was one of the fastest swordsmen in the Arcane Eye, his speed unmatched, his precision deadly. Every slash, every thrust, brought Johannes closer to landing a fatal blow. The margin for error was vanishingly small, and all it would take was one miscalculation, one moment of hesitation, for Johannes to strike true.
The predictions Cid was making with his numerology were probability-based, a delicate dance of calculations and adjustments. Even if he was 99% certain about Johannes’ next move, there was always that 1% chance—a sliver of uncertainty that could spell disaster. And that percentage wasn’t static; it shifted constantly, influenced by Johannes’ adaptability and the chaotic nature of their battle. The more Cid relied on his predictions, the harder it became to stay ahead. The strain of maintaining this level of focus was immense, his mind racing to keep up with the ever-changing probabilities.
Cid’s breath came in short, ragged gasps as he dodged another flurry of attacks. His muscles burned, his vision blurring slightly as the mental toll of his calculations began to weigh on him. He could feel the Book of Grand Design’s presence in the back of his mind, a constant hum of power that was both a lifeline and a burden. The book’s warnings were growing louder, its disapproval palpable. It didn’t like this—the unpredictability, the risk. But Cid had no choice. He had to keep going.
As Johannes’ blade sliced through the air once more, Cid twisted his body to the side, the icy edge grazing his arm and leaving a shallow cut and forming a small amount of ice on his skin. He hissed in pain but didn’t falter, his mind already racing to calculate the next move.
“I can’t keep this up,” Cid thought, his mind racing.
Cid found himself backed into a corner, his options dwindling with every passing second.
Finally, Johannes’ blade came too close to avoid. Cid’s eyes widened as he realized he couldn’t dodge this one. In a desperate move, he raised his hand and summoned a burst of aether, creating a vacuum between them. The air seemed to collapse inward for a split second before exploding outward in a powerful shockwave. The force of the blast sent both of them flying backward, their bodies skidding across the ground as dirt and debris rained down around them.
Cid groaned as he pushed himself up, his body aching from the impact. His vision swam for a moment, but he forced himself to focus, his eyes darting to where Johannes had landed. The swordsman was already on his feet, his blade still gleaming with icy energy, his expression as cold and determined as ever.
Cid: “Damn it!” he cursed under his breath, his voice low but laced with frustration. His mind raced as he assessed the situation. Johannes was too fast, too precise, and too relentless.
“I can’t outrun him, and I don’t have any attacks strong enough to take him down—at least, none that are fast enough to hit him. He’s too quick to outrun or outmaneuver. If only I could slow him down… slow him down…” Cid thought silently, his mind churning through possibilities.
Then, an idea struck him. It was risky, and the Book of Grand Design would undoubtedly disapprove, but he was out of options. Cid activated his numerology magic, his eyes glazing over for less than a second as calculations flooded his mind. Probabilities, outcomes, and sequences of events unfolded like a tapestry, each thread representing a possible future. The magic provided him with a series of actions—specific, precise, and meticulously timed—that would create the most probable path to his escape.
As the information settled, Cid’s focus snapped back to the present, and a splitting headache surged through his skull. He winced, pressing a hand to his temple. He recognized the pain immediately; it was the Book of Grand Design’s way of warning him. The book didn’t want him to take this course of action. It was too unpredictable, too dangerous. But what choice did he have? Johannes was closing in, and time was running out.
With a deep breath, Cid steadied himself and turned his attention to Johannes, who was already shifting into another attack stance. The icy mist around his blade swirled menacingly, the air growing colder with every passing second. Cid knew he had to act fast.
Cid: “Hey, Johannes,” he called out, his voice calm but carrying an edge of calculated provocation. “Do you want to know what your brother’s last words were?”
(Author's Note: Putting this in the main body of the story for when a bot takes this. Hey there! You're reading a story be me, Saberfang. This was likely taken from royal road or scribble hub. If you like my work please read it on those websites or on patreon at /user?u=83747391)