The lush greenery grew scarce as he neared his destination, and by the time he arrived, it was gone, replaced by chalky peach-coloured stone.

  A roughly circular indent in the earth. Ten metres deep and just over a hundred metres in diameter, its exterior was an inward slope of naturally formed rings the colour of faded orange.

  Drinking in the sight from the top of these stairs, Xyn concluded that he was looking at a long dried-up lake. This observation was made at a glance, for there were more eye-catching things that demanded his attention.

  He focused on the source of the sinister aura. What could only be called a magical circle was carved into the stone floor. Ten metres wide, one metre deep, it lay at the centre of the lake. Complex characters of similar depth, composed of lines and circles, were close neighbours within the two rings that made up the array.

  Xyn's face was tight as he stared at the crimson filling each crevice to the brim. The amount of staggering, and unlike the lake of blood that surrounded him in Aflein, there was no mistaking who it belonged to. The closer he got, the louder and more vivid the psychic impressions of the victims became.

  Focusing, Xyn could make out phantom images swimming in the blood. That wasn't all; focusing even more intently, he felt something beneath the tundra of horror, or rather, beyond it.

  Dangerous.

  Something swam within the red liquid, something that could threaten him. Making a mental note to avoid the blood, he directed his attention to the creator of the magical circle. The red-robed figure at the magic circle's centre did a one-eighty as though feeling Xyn's gaze.

  A human - another human - no, Xyn refused to accept the other as the same as him. A monster - no, even they don't deserve to be placed in the same basket as this freak.

  Xyn walked down the gentle rocky slope towards the man whose outer appearance matched his inner ugliness. He was tall, slim, and hairless from what Xyn could see, with pale skin and dark sunken eyes, which brightened as the Void Prince walked towards him.

  Seeing the delighted smile the other showed, Xyn could imagine what was going through the man's head. The blood mage spoke a language lost to Xyn, yet his rejoicing was obvious.

  Ah, another offering was delivered to me, just in time. The dark gods will be pleased with your addition...something like that.

  Xyn's impromptu translation wasn't too far from reality.

  Medric entered battle mode. White energy blazed off of him. Xyn noted its visual and conceptual resemblance to the monkey's. The other's mana output was noted as well. It was unimpressive, halfway between the monkey's and ogre's output.

  His red robe was tossed aside as though yesterday's news. Before it could land on the ground, it vanished - it was translocated.

  Xyn's eyes flickered. A storage ring, he thought, spotting the glowing silver ring on the man's right hand. The band of silver held his attention for a moment more before he shifted to what lay on the blood mage's left hand.

  Near the wrist was a blood-red tattoo the size of a rose petal. Simple lines and circles overlapped to form the runic design.

  That's the source, Xyn felt without a shadow of a doubt. The tattoo and magical circle radiated the same brand of menace.

  Medric, in his black tank top, directed his will through the tattoo, and the blood in the magical circle flew toward him. The liquid's motions were swift, like an explosion in reverse, and precise. Within the blink of an eye, eight-tenths of the blood flowed around his figure and condensed into a full-body suit of armour. The crimson armour set was generic in its design, save for the string of runic characters that formed an unbroken chain that snaked from boot to helm.

  The remaining two-tenths gathered around his outstretched right hand and morphed into a crimson claymore. Medric grasped the handle with both hands and entered a sideways orientation.

  Xyn saw his combat stance and adjusted his expectations. The air of a warrior was undeniable. His opponent, despicable he may be, was no bloody virgin to the battlefield.

  The Void Prince stopped fifteen metres away. He opted for a natural stance.

  The two played statues as they locked gazes. The silence dragged on for several seconds before the blood mage broke it. He uttered the words "blood and slaughter" and then dashed forward. A beeline became a z-line at the last instance. Going left to right, then left again, he slashed at his frozen opponent's neck.

  But...

  The blood mage had to catch himself as he met no resistance. His sword had seemingly passed right through his opponent. Hitting the metaphoric brakes, he had his crimson claymore reverse course and...again, failed to find purchase.

  Xyn was cool in the face of the combination. Unblinking and unfazed, his black locks swayed where his heart didn't.

  He should reckon I have a phasing ability, Xyn thought. He was correct.

  Medric conceived a plan based on the assumption. He solidified his stance and thrust his blade forward. He intended to overlap his weapon with Xyn, then follow him like a shadow until he reached the limit of his immaterialization and impaled himself. That was the blood mage's thinking, so what came next threw him off kilter.

  Xyn disappeared as the crimson tip was an inch away from his navel, oriented himself in the void, and reappeared facing Medric's backside from a half metre away.

  His raised hand was a guillotine ready to drop, at least at first. Xyn had second thoughts. He had intended to kill with one swipe, but changed his mind. The blood mage, foul he may be, smelled of an interesting foe. Xyn wished to see more of him before sending the madman to the great beyond. Thus, instead of his neck, he aimed for his shoulder. His knife hand blackened and sliced down.

  Xyn met with as much resistance as Medric had with his sword earlier. Though that was no surprise. Endera was never given any pause. Completing his arc, the Void Prince eyed his opponent, now fifteen metres away to his right.

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  Bad guy, good reaction.

  A life of blood and slaughter had sharpened Medric's instincts for battle. His mind whirled into action, and his body and mana followed suit. The unknown darkness was a hot knife to his intuition. It screamed like it never had. He listened and followed its simple advice: avoid. The blood armour would not be enough to stop its advance. Trusting this to be so, he directed his energy into his movement technique: Blood Walz. He was not quick enough to escape unscathed; the black parted the red and bit a finger's width into his shoulder.

  Then again, if he were weak, he wouldn't be able to survive in this jungle - huh, he's laughing?

  Medric was and without restraint. He laughed with his whole body, bending and swaying like a manic flame. His ecstasy infected the blood. Popping sounds echoed out as bubbles burst in and out of existence. The chorus merged with his laughter to produce a wicked symphony.

  This guy's not playing with a full deck. Or maybe all his cards are jokers? Xyn stood idle at a bit of a loss.

  His curiosity had slashed at his righteous anger, and this display of madness smothered it to death. Now, his heart was being ping-ponged between awe and befuddlement. Xyn kept his turmoil on the inside, sporting a cool, calm exterior as he waited for the man's laughter to drain from him.

  It did nearly a minute later. Medric composed himself, and the blood making up his armour ceased its squirming. Solid in mind and magic, he broke into stride. A crazed smile was hidden within his visor. To Xyn, his laughter was a mystery. To the residents of Machaeverosa, it was anything but.

  While those in the Crimson Sea would slaughter all, the strong were preferred, and the brief exchange convinced Medric that Xyn was strong. Each slaughter was a gift, and the Blood Cardinal was eager to present Xyn before his god's altar.

  Overwhelmed by giddiness, the blood mage seemingly exploded. Dozens of orbs were ejected from his figure. Speedy one moment, still the next. And by the next, their spherical form dissolved and each became a razor-sharp caltrop. They span on their axis, slicing the air as they did. Following the explosion, the blood mage exploded into motion. He dashed toward Xyn. The caltrops followed along like planets tethered to a star by the heavenly force.

  Once near, he slashed out. His sword stretched and bent at his will and became a crimson whip which cut towards Xyn. Air squealed at its queer trajectory.

  Xyn was forced to Void Shift away. And again and again and again. Never teleporting more than five metres away. The blood mage was relentless in his pursuit. His whip moved like it was alive. The red snake became a hydra as the whip split into eight strands. Each one sought the psionic's death, lunging and biting.

  At the same time, the caltrops drew odd and erratic orbits around Medric. There was no collision between the various blood constructs. They appeared to phase through each other, losing next to no momentum during the meeting.

  On the other end of this crimson onslaughter, Xyn was convinced that the twin-tailed monkey wouldn't last more than a few moments before getting diced to shreds.

  The Void Prince zipped in and out of reality, staying for instants at a time. He was a series of still images. Yet, he gave the illusion of motion, of an easy-going sway. Learning this way and that, he danced through Medric's frenzy, all the while wearing a placid expression.

  The blood mage didn't seem put off by the display. Rather, the middle-aged man only upped his efforts.

  The thought to defend/attack with Endera came and went through the psionic's mind. It was an expensive technique. More than that, he could only summon a patch at a time. Xyn was content to play the mouse to Medric's cat for the time being. The two fighters moved in spirals around the dried-up lake.

  A false opening?

  The thought had no time to echo in his head before Xyn acted. He reappeared at Medric's six o'clock, poised to strike. Instantly, the armour making up the blood mage's backside bubbled. Dozens of spikes raced toward him. Having expected the possibility, Xyn teleported away before getting skewed.

  His madness hasn't detracted from his combat sense. What's next?

  Now, at the centre of the magical circle, the blood mage broke out of his combat stance and straightened. The whips, spikes and caltrops lost their solidity a second later, dropping to form a large puddle at his feet. His crimson armour followed suit. It slid off his scrawny form to join the rest of the blood.

  Unhidden, Medric's smiling face was clear to the world and Xyn. It was crazed, but more subdued, almost playful in nature. His Soul Shroud expanded from an inch around his body to a radius of ten metres. The happening caused the Void Prince's brows to furrow.

  Oh, that's quite the range. He even extended it underground. That will limit my options. Smart, Xyn thought, reworking his plans of attack.

  Void Shifting.

  It was essentially materialising a duplicate somewhere within a three-hundred-metre range. In many ways, it was like teleportation, and a lot of the same rules applied. The process was lightning-quick, but not instantaneous. Xyn also couldn't materialise anywhere within his range. There were exceptions. Depending on the density, he couldn't transpose onto mana-rich objects. Most of the forest was thus off-limits. Similarly barred to him were Soul Shrouds.

  Every mana user had them. It was one's personal domain, where one's magic influenced the world most strongly. Xyn could materialise a duplicate within another's Soul Shroud; however, there had to be a vast difference in mana output for it to be possible.

  There was a sizeable gap between him and his opponent. That said, it wasn't large enough for Xyn to forcefully invade Medric's spherical territory. Thus, teleporting into spitting distance again was not going to happen.

  While he was thinking this, Medric drove his will into his storage ring. Then, without warning, from the edges of his Soul Shroud, a red tide gushed out.

  So much blood...is he trying to fill this place?

  The blood tsunami surged outwards in a vortex pattern, moving faster than any liquid had the right to move. The rocky floor was painted over in a heartbeat.

  Xyn watched the happening from his earlier view. Medric looked up at him while the Void Prince did the reverse.

  That's certainly menacing, but it's not enough.

  As if hearing the psionic's thoughts, Medric flashed a smile. A red cube appeared atop his right palm.

  What's that- ah?!

  The cube flashed red and expanded. Unavoidable was its speed. The wall of crimson crashed into - no, phased through the Void Prince before he knew it.

  As the foreign magic passed through him, so did an immense shock. On the tail of that emotion was a forced enlightenment.

  "Designated Battlefield: Red Room", Xyn muttered, still reeling from the psychic impact.

  A crowning achievement of dwarven craft, Designated Battlefield, was a series of powerful magical tools, meant to facilitate fair duels between two parties: the user and the one or ones they labelled as “enemy”. There were many variants of Designated Battlefield. Red Room was the most common variety.

  Red Room was a hundred metres wide, tall and high, a perfect cube that almost perfectly encased the blood lake. It was transparent, like red-tinted glass. Its bottom was mere inches below the floor's bottom, and its edges ate up no more than two metres outside the lake's dried-up lip.

  For a limited duration, neither Xyn nor Medric could escape the cube. To cross over to the other side would result in crossing over to the other side. A potent soul attack awaited anyone foolish enough to try. Red Room would only come undone after five minutes or if either Xyn or Medric died.

  Xyn understood this all a second after getting entangled by the esoteric magic as it flooded his head with the contract's details. Designated Battlefield was only as powerful as it was because of the fairness embedded within it.

  That was quite something, but you didn't have to do all that. Xyn's back was to the transparent wall, but he didn't feel like it. I wouldn't have run in the first place. You overestimate yourself, worm - no leech.

  The Void Prince grinned at his joke, but the blood mage interpreted his smile differently.

  The middle-aged man barked out a chuckle. In his mind, the smile was one of bloodlust and malice. He was eager to welcome Xyn's blood into his collection. Medric's blood boiled in excitement, and the blood lake grew rowdy in response. Then, at his command, the liquid solidified into dozens of giant spikes and shot out towards Xyn.

  With that, the battle resumed.