Chapter 40: Detection and Disappearance
The Moment Arc and Mica heard the phrase 'Begin', the duel commenced instantly. Mica surged forward with the confidence of someone brimming with mana and seasoned in the magical arts. As expected, she made the first move.
Arc held back, knowing his mana was limited and time was crucial. Lacking offensive spells, he focused on defence, seeking to study her rhythm and casting patterns, hoping to drain her reserves.
He raised his hand in front, forming a subtle clump of mana invisible to the naked eye in the air.
"Let's see if this works… 'Acoustic Edge,'" he thought as he cast the spell. "That name will do for now; it sounds cooler than it is," Arc spoke aloud as the spell began to take form.
It was an improvised title for an untested iteration of the same spell he'd been experimenting with the night before. But this version -- this Stage Two -- was different. The prototype had been a simple one-dimensional one, it was only a proof of concept. Now, Arc shaped the mana into four equidistant points around himself, sketching an invisible square into the very air between him and Mica.
Each clump of mana began to emit a silent hum. Inaudible to ordinary ears, the hums were designed to interfere with one another. As their waves overlapped, they created an antiresonance zone -- a pocket of silence, carefully formulated.
"Four nodes," he murmured. "That's the optimal amount. Three wouldn't give me coverage… not without blind spots and too vague directions of incoming attacks."
With the barrier in place, the air grew tense.
Mica moved swiftly, her hands weaving a familiar spell. She unleashed a flurry of Windblow spells, multiple gusts slicing toward Arc like spectral blades. The spells were nearly invisible -- high-speed jets that distorted the air as they hurtled forward.
As planned, a faint hum reached Arc's ears -- a warning. He sidestepped just in time, the gust grazing his coat.
Mica narrowed her eyes. "He dodged it... again?"
Her spells flew faster than in their last duel. And yet Arc evaded them effortlessly, weaving between her attacks as if anticipating every move. Her frustration showed. She began shifting her stance, attacking from different angles, trying to find a breach in his pattern -- increasing the intensity and speed of her spells with every instance.
Arc remained calm, adjusting the range of his spell as he moved, maintaining the perimeter at a consistent radius between him and her.
By the fifth set of volleys, Mica had started noticing something off. At first, she attributed the low humming to the wind her magic stirred. But the sound repeated -- with precision. Each time her spell neared Arc, it happened again.
A pattern emerged.
Mica scowled. "That sound again… It's not just the wind, is it? Something is off here."
Liya, watching from the sidelines, tilted her head slightly. Her gaze sharpened.
Nearby, Eamon and Aric exchanged glances. They heard it too, though they couldn't identify the source. The sound was too faint for them to register properly from that distance.
Mica clenched her jaw. "He's using detection magic of some kind to anticipate my attacks… that is the case here -- definitely. That should explain his clear dodges so far. But how? with that little mana?"
She needed confirmation. Recalling a basic mana-sensing technique, the same one she had been using to detect those goblins on the night of the attack. A simple yet effective detection spell Liya had once taught her, she cast a detection spell, a thin veil of awareness pulsing out from her core. She couldn't hold the spell for long, but it didn't need to.
Her spell pulsed through the arena, but she could not sense anything, only faint dots of mana, nothing out of the ordinary to catch her gaze. She could even sense Arc with this like a large clump of mana, not as large as hers, but large enough to make him stand out."With so little Mana, how is he doing it?" She could see things, but not the details to counter his spell. "Come on, any clues or hints would help." She thought.
Seeing no results, she increased her mana output for a clearer view -- more like forced to, though it would exhaust her quickly. "I hope this works; I have no other options." In that moment, clarity struck -- she saw Arc's spell, a thin spell formation.
Four tiny nodes hovered in a square formation, tethered to Arc by glowing threads of mana. As she amplified her energy, the threads began to shimmer, showing that the clumps moved in sync with her.
"So that's what's going on…"
She hurled another Windblow spell toward Arc. Again, the hum. Again, he dodged.
It was undeniable now -- Arc was using sound to detect her attacks. But how?
She furrowed her brow. "If I can't hit him, maybe I can disrupt the spell formation. It might work this time."
Targeting one of the mana clumps directly, Mica altered her next spell's trajectory. Rather than weaving between the clumps, she sent it straight through one such that the clump was between the trajectory of her spell and arc.
It was a clever move. Arc's eyes widened as the barrier failed.
"Damn it. She figured it out…"
The spell came dangerously close, and he barely dodged, the wind raking across his sleeve.
"If the attack strikes the clump head-on, I completely lose the signal -- more accurately, I receive no signal. I had theorised this before, but I didn't expect I would register no sound. I was expecting at least a little bit of sound. Regardless, this confirms my theory and gives me a weakness to address later. It also means that she is aware of it. But the real question is to what extent has she figured out my spell?"
He exhaled sharply, mind already racing. "What if I add another field? Cover the blind spots..."
Raising his hands, Arc conjured a second square field, tilted at a 45-degree angle and slightly smaller than the first. The overlapping fields formed a cube-shaped detection matrix -- complex but functional. He mirrored the structure, layering one matrix above the other, which resulted in a three-dimensional defensive net -- more like a cuboidal shell, compensating for the earlier vulnerability. "If she knows about the spell, I'd better cover all the blind spots," Arc thought.
Mica squinted, sensing the new structure but unable to decode it fully.
"He's changed it again… That sneaky bastard."
She struck again, hoping to catch another clump -- another blind spot. As planned, the attack passed through the first shell but was caught by the field of the second shell, which covered the weaknesses of the first. Arc had sealed every opening.
Liya, ever the observer, finally invoked her detection spell, seeking to understand the magic Arc had constructed.
Unlike her student, her reserves were high enough to maintain the spell for a prolonged duration, and the resulting image of her surroundings was much clearer than what Mica could manage. Her eyes widened. "He's using the harmonics principle… passive detection. A symphony of silence."
She smiled, impressed. "Clever boy."
Eamon and Aric noticed her muttering. "Commander Liya, what is he doing?" Aric asked. He could see the spell formation, but not as clearly as she could. The problem was that he hadn't yet managed to connect the dots.
She folded her arms. "He's manipulating sound waves through synchronised mana nodes to track incoming targets. I've never seen a detection spell executed like this before -- not with such precision. Just thinking about how much mental faculty he must have spent maintaining the spell baffles me. Especially at his level of development."
As Mica's attacks slowed, Arc began preparing his counteroffensive. But a critical realisation dawned on him.
"Wait… if I launch an attack… the barrier will hum."
The sound would betray his attack position -- his angle of attack.
"Damn. It's a double-edged sword. Why didn't I think of that?"
If he wanted to strike, he'd have to drop the spell -- if only for a moment.
"I could let her enter the field and keep it active… but melee isn't allowed unless magic's involved. Tightening the field would weaken the effect, and expanding it would consume too much focus and render the whole thing a moot point."
He clenched his fists.
"So be it. I'll deactivate the spell when I strike -- but I'll have to time it perfectly."
Mica was at her limit. Her plan to exhaust Arc had backfired; her detection spell drained half her reserves, and her attacks were easily dodged.
She needed a bold move.
Enveloping herself in a gust of wind, she propelled forward -- a bullet of air and determination -- hands outstretched toward Arc's amulet.
Arc saw the glint of her charm charging at him and instinctively dropped his detection spell. All that mana returned to him gradually.
He focused. A new spell formed in his palm as his mana reserves were recovering from the incoming mana of his detection spell -- a ringed structure of mana resembling stacked discs, each smaller than the last, forming a shrinking tunnel.
"Acoustic Resonance."
With a final push of mana, the spell erupted in the nick of time. A barrage of resonating sound waves fired forward, inaudible but brutal. The ripples smashed into Mica's Training attire, dispelling her wind cloak mid-charge.
She gasped as the spell's force tore through her defences, just as she reached for Arc. Both of them reached for each other's amulet, their spells ending mid-course at the same moment.
Hands clasped.
They landed in a heap, tumbling onto the sand-tiled ground.
Silence.
Then both raised a hand -- each holding the other's amulet.
They blinked at one another, panting, bewildered.
"…So, a draw?" Arc asked.
Mica pouted. "I'm calling it a tactical stalemate at best."
From the sidelines, Liya chuckled as she approached. "Looks like neither of you wins this one."
Behind her, Eamon whistled. "Not bad, for a training match."
Aric frowned, seeing that the result was a stalemate. "A draw, looks like nobody is winning any extra cash today."
"Well, it can't be helped," Eamon responded.
The Scene Shifted as the pupils kept on bickering.
Most supplies for the Crafter Base are sourced from the Crafter Territory and the Capital, with a year's worth stocked just before and after the Arcana Vale Festival. However, restocking is limited throughout the year due to the Base's isolation and security concerns. To extend supply longevity, the Crafter Base hires Resource Gatherers, including hunters and lumberjacks, to forage for extra resources and monitor the area.
Days before Sebeth Muller set out to rescue Arc Crafter, an unsettling report reached the main barracks: a group of forest foragers had gone missing near the outer logging zones. Among the missing were experienced lumberjacks, herb foragers, and mineral scrapers -- men who knew the woods well. Yet, they had vanished without a trace.
One of those men was Elias Forrester.
His son, Luka, remembered the moment vividly. The Commander himself had knelt before him, voice firm with conviction, promising, "I will bring your father back. That, I swear." But days had passed. No word. No letter. No one came knocking. Just silence and smoke rising from the chimneys of the barracks.
Now, boots crunching gravel, Luka Forrester marched toward the main barracks with a fury that clung to his spine. He had been taking daily account of the rescue team assigned to the task after Sebeth left. But as days passed, the information kept getting vague and unyielding. He barely noticed the shouts and clamour echoing from the nearby training grounds. Soldiers circled, cheering and jeering, all eyes drawn to a sparring match in the centre. Magic spun through the air like a gust of wind, briefly drawing his attention.
In the dust-hazed ring stood two young figures -- Arc Crafter and Mica Mistwood. Mana sparked between their palms, dancing like lightning veins. But Luka didn't stop to watch. He had no time for Soldiers and their displays.
He pushed forward, the weight of unanswered questions pressing on his chest.
The outer chambers of the command office were quiet, too quiet. Two guards stood flanking the door, their gazes sharp, hands resting on their hilts. Luka approached, his voice strained.
"Is Commander Muller in?"
The older of the two guards, a stocky man with silver threading through his beard, shook his head. He had seen the boy coming daily at the same moment, so he replied without asking any questions, "Not at the moment. He's... occupied -- most likely."
"With what?" Luka snapped.
The Guard guessed. "Security evaluations. The attack last week has all the higher-ups on edge. All the Commanders have been tied up with base defence and patrol coordination."
Luka's jaw clenched. "And the search party? The Fregers? My father?"
The younger guard shifted uneasily. "We weren't briefed on that. That matter... It's under closed review."
Luka's fists curled, but before he could retort, the older guard gave a measured nod toward the chamber door.
"You can wait inside if you'd like. Your involvement in this matter should be excuse enough to let you pass through, but please don't touch anything, ok? If someone with clearance passes through, you might get your answers."
The younger guard tried to argue about the stated protocol, but he older guard made him shut up quickly, and Luka was allowed to pass through.
The office was bare, except for stacks of parchment, half-used maps, and an untouched cup of cold tea. Unlike just a few days ago when it had been bustling with activity, the atmosphere had grown quieter with each passing day as the staff dwindled. Given Luka's knowledge of the recent attacks, he understood that the losses had been kept to a minimum; the Guard's reports likely indicated that the troops had been reassigned to other tasks. A hanging lantern flickered weakly, casting long shadows on the stone walls. Luka sat down, tapping his foot against the floor, as each minute dragged on longer than the last.
Hours passed. No one came.
The world outside was in motion -- boots pounded against cobblestone, horns blared from distant towers, and tension wove through the air like the fog crawling over the northern ridge. But within those stone chambers, time stood still.
Eventually, Luka rose to leave, disappointment settling in like a dull ache. He paused just outside the chamber, ready to storm off, when he heard the whisper.
Two guards near the corridor stood close, murmuring beneath their breath. These guards were different. Luka did not know their identity.
"-I heard Sebeth found some of them. Mangled beyond recognition."
"You serious?"
"One of the scouts said it was like something tore through them -- limbs everywhere. But not all of them were dead. Some were just... gone."
"Taken?"
A sharp silence followed. Then, a hushed, "That's what the Commanders think. But no one knows why."
Luka's breath hitched. If no one else would keep the promise, he would.
***