Demons, Witches, and Toads (BoyxBoy) - Chapter 79: Chapter 79

"Alright," Mulock said as they entered the arena, carrying a box under each arm. "I made pink flags for Priscilla and green ones for Wheeler."
Mister Pumpernickel croaked excitedly, his head popping up from one of the boxes as he ecstatically waved a flag of each color in his mouth.
Priscilla peered into the pink box, eyes growing wide. "When did you have time to make all these?"
"The whole bloody year," Mulock replied, rolling his eyes. "Though I did intend on throwing yours out if you flunked your classes."
Wheeler picked up one of each, a small bow had been carefully painted onto the pink flag and a toad onto the green. "These are amazing," Wheeler breathed. "Mully, you're incredible!"
"Ohmygosh a bow! That's so adorable!" Priscilla squealed, pulling the demon into a hug. "Mulock, you really are a sweetheart under all the assholeness!"
"Ew, ew, ewwww, get off me," Mulock hissed. "They're just flags. No need to piss your pants over them."
"Ooooooh, someone's grumpy."
"Priscilla, I will literally throw you in the trash along with these stupid flags if you don't shut the hell up," Mulock snapped, finally managing to shake her off.
A bell chimed, echoing through the arena signifying that the second year tournament would be starting in approximately fifteen minutes.
"Shit, Mister Pumpernickel and I need to start handing these out and fast," Mulock muttered. "We should have gotten here earlier."
"Well, whose fault is that?" Priscilla said with a huff, crossing her arms. "You two dweebs are never late for anything. What was with you rolling out of bed two hours late?"
Mulock and Wheeler exchanged a glance.
"We were... studying..." Wheeler said slowly.
"Yeah," Mulock replied. "Really hard."
"All night."
"Ugh, you're both such nerds," Priscilla said, rolling her eyes.
"Yep. That's us, just nerds doing nerdy things," Wheeler stammered. "Nothing interesting about that whatsoever. So, uh... why don't we just change the subject to something less boring."
"I have an idea," Mulock said dryly. "Maybe we should change the subject to, 'you have fifteen minutes before the tournament begins so get your asses in gear and actually check in with your professors'."
"Crap, you're right," Priscilla gasped. "The headmistress is going to kill us if we're late. C'mon, Wheeler, let's go!"
"I expect you both to do your best out there," Mulock called after them. "And don't worry, Priscilla. My bar for you is so low you can practically just step over it."
"Wow, thanks, Mulock. What a confidence booster," Priscilla muttered.
The demon let out a rare, genuine laugh at that. "Alright, but in all seriousness, good luck you two. We'll be cheering you on."
Mister Pumpernickel let out an excited croak, waving his little flags with furious vigor.
***
Wheeler moved through the first rounds of the tournament with ease. Priscilla managed to make it surprisingly far considering she'd only picked up her textbook about three times over the course of the entire year. But at last, there were only two students remaining for the tournament's final battle.
As expected, it was Wheeler and Violet.
Wheeler stood at one end of the arena, Violet at the other. In the viewing box above them was the Grand Emperor and the princes, just like before.
The Grand Emperor looked as radiant as he had the first time Wheeler had seen him. His robes were made of an ink black velvet, beautiful gold lacing trailing up the sleeves. Diamonds covered the garment, appearing almost like stars speckled against a pitch black sky. As always, he stood there proud, lustrous, and powerful— a God among men.
Wheeler let out a low breath, trying to ignore the anxiety clawing at his gut.
He'd worked so hard for this moment.
He'd dreamed of it his entire life.
He would make him proud. The Grand Emperor would see him and invite him to be a royal mage, and then at last Wheeler could finally feel worthy of calling someone so incredible his father.
He just needed to pull this off.
Wheeler had been underplaying his magic in the previous fights all to save his power for this final battle. All he could do was hope it was enough to at last get his father's attention.
From the other side of the arena, Violet smirked at him, looking incredibly smug thanks to her previous victories.
Wheeler tried to calm his breathing as he waited for the bell to chime. His fingers slipped under his shirt collar, curling around the wooden toad hanging from his neck. He clutched it tightly, feeling the soft wood beneath his fingers.
He could do this.
"Hey, toad boy," Violet jeered, her voice carrying across the arena. "Are you ready to get decimated?"
Wheeler grinned at her despite his nerves. "Good luck, Violet!"
"Good luck?" she snapped. "You're not supposed to wish me good luck. God, you're such a weirdo."
"Sorry," Wheeler said. "Um... bad luck then? Is that better?"
"No," Violet replied sharply. "That's considerably even lamer."
And at last, the bell chimed.
A wicked grin spread across Violet's face. "Ugh, finally." She sprung forward, wand in hand. "I'm about to kick your scrawny ass, toad freak."
She cast a wind spell, which Wheeler easily blocked, then a water attack, sending a wave crashing towards him. Wheeler flicked his wand, quickly countering with a reflective shield that sent the water flying back at her. Now soaking wet, Violet cursed under her breath, shooting a flood of fireballs towards him as water dripped from her face and hair. Luckily, thanks to Mulock, Wheeler had nearly two years of experience with fire attacks. He didn't even need a spell, easily dodging and darting before a single one could hit.
Violet was beginning to slow, a glisten of sweat becoming obvious on her brow.
"What the hell, Wheeler?" she snarled.
Violet tried ice next, shooting shards at him. Wheeler instantly countered with a fire spell, causing them to evaporate with a hiss.
"Why aren't you attacking me?" Violet barked. "The fuck are you doing only defending yourself? Am I a joke to you? Are you not attacking just to mock me?" As she said this, she attempted to hurl a ring of fire at Wheeler which he easily deflected.
"No," Wheeler replied, shaking his head. "I'm sorry if it seems that way. I, uh... I just needed enough time to make it."
"Make what?" Violet snapped.
"Um... that," he said, pointing behind her.
As he spoke, Violet spun around, her face going ashen at the sight she was met with.
Towering above her was the massive tree Wheeler had created while she had been fruitlessly attacking him.
The tree lunged forward, vines springing towards Violet before she could even react. They twisted around her, swinging her into the air with such force that her wand was thrown from her hands.
Exhausted, trapped, and wandless, all Violet could do was wait helplessly as the bell rang, signifying the end of the tournament.
An explosion of cheers instantly rang out from the crowd. As Wheeler looked out, his gaze caught on a sea of people ecstatically waving the little green flags Mulock had made.
Excitement flared in Wheeler's chest and he frantically looked up to the viewing box to see the Grand Emperor's reaction.
The joy was instantly smothered when he saw that only the apathetic princes remained, the Grand Emperor nowhere in sight. He must have left at some point during the battle.
Wheeler's heart sank, the sting of tears threatening to spill from his eyes. It took everything in his power to force them back, his lower lip trembling.
"Incredible!" an announcer exclaimed, his voice booming across the arena. "In an amazing display of breath of life magic, the young Wheeler Trevil was able to split his consciousness, casting multiple spells at once, a nearly impossible task."
More cheers rang out at this. The announcer continued on, talking more on the techniques and attacks used, but Wheeler could hardly hear it, the exhaustion finally starting to overtake him. He'd saved up just enough power to pull off the plan he and Mulock had devised, but at last he was drained, the magic taking its physical toll. Wheeler's vision was starting to grow blurry, the sounds and voices around him muffled as if he was underwater. He struggled to stay on his feet, the world around him beginning to sway.
Suddenly a sensation cut through his dulled senses. Someone had tapped on his shoulder.
Slowly, Wheeler turned to see the headmistress standing there, her magnified eyes only an inch from his face.
"Mister Trevil," she said, a grin pulling at her lips. "You must come with me. The Grand Emperor wishes to meet you."