Starting with Frieren

Sorry, guys, for some incorrect reference.

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As expected, Serie's sense of time adhered to elven standards. A ten-year nap? That'd make him some sort of Sleeping Beauty! Ivan knew he couldn't afford to hold back now.

Before the fight officially began, he needed to test what kind of magic he could unleash with the immense mana saturating the battlefield.

"Mind if I warm up a bit first?"

"Go ahead."

"Great," Ivan muttered, then began chanting in a low voice. "You-ka pi-yi si-er for-ser eve o ro-wa, o don sor-ro-er xi-li-ya, er-for eres—"

(Heaven and earth ignite into a myriad flames; the gates of hell open to darkness. The demon descends to cleave mountains, and the Sun God's Winged Dragon soars to the ends of creation.)

"I offer all the mana of this battlefield as a sacrifice! Come forth—Sun God's Winged Dragon!"

"???"

A vortex of immense mana spiraled upward into the sky, creating a fierce gale that made their robes flutter noisily. Serie, intrigued, didn't interfere. Squinting slightly, she gazed upward to see what might manifest from Ivan's summoning.

Meanwhile, Ivan appeared to be sneaking in some additional gestures.

Serie, unfazed by the summoning spell, remained confident. She wasn't worried about the battlefield being drained of its mana—this place was like an endless reservoir. Even with two people drawing from it, it'd take weeks, maybe months, to deplete it completely.

Barely three minutes passed.

With the accompaniment of dramatic background music, heavy clouds split apart, revealing a radiant golden sphere that shone as brilliantly as the sun. Under the duo's watchful gaze, the sphere began to shift and deconstruct, accompanied by a series of metallic clangs.

When it fully emerged, the Winged Dragon spread its gleaming, metallic wings. Its head tilted back, releasing a piercing cry that scattered the surrounding clouds with invisible shockwaves. Then, with a majestic flap of its wings, it gracefully descended… onto Ivan's shoulder.

Ivan: "..."

The good news: the Winged Dragon could actually be conjured through imagination.

The bad news: it was a shrunken version, barely larger than a sparrow.

As the summoner, Ivan instantly understood its strength—or lack thereof. Its appearance wasn't the only thing diminished. Its power was similarly meager. Summoning gods clearly wasn't the way to go.

"Cute," Serie remarked, observing the miniature dragon with some interest. She waved a hand dismissively. "Have that bird attack me."

Bird?

The Winged Dragon let out a sharp cry of fury and immediately launched a Divine Breath Flame Cannon at her. In truth, it was more like a tiny jet of golden flame.

Serie responded by casting a defensive spell. While the attack seemed feeble at first glance, it did contain a sliver of the Sun God's unrelenting heat. Carelessness might've led to a burn… the kind that left a small blister.

Having analyzed the dragon's miniature assault, Serie responded with a casual magical projectile. Despite weakening the attack power, she dramatically increased its speed.

Unable to dodge, the Winged Dragon took the hit head-on. It disintegrated into golden particles and faded away.

Sun God's Winged Dragon—defeated.

"Warm-up time is over. The real fight begins now," Serie reminded.

Suddenly, the ground trembled violently. Instinctively, Ivan leapt into the air, narrowly dodging the strikes of countless massive vines erupting from the earth.

Serie tilted her delicate chin upward, her eyes fully open and her initial nonchalant demeanor gone. "Oh? You can fly without wings? It's very similar to the way demons do it. Impressive."

"Sevenfold Celestial Radiance Shield."

Ivan laid down a circular, chrysanthemum-shaped barrier around him before speaking. "There are four principles to the magic of flight. If you're interested, I can teach you."

"No need. I learned it the moment I saw you use it," Serie replied with a faint smile. "But placing a defensive barrier mid-air doesn't make you invincible. Many demons have died like this. Watch closely."

She slightly bent her knees, and with a sudden burst of mana, propelled herself toward Ivan at an incredible speed. No matter how he repositioned, Serie adjusted her trajectory instantly with mana surges, closing the gap like an assassin.

"Za Warudo! Time Stop—"

Serie's movements froze for about 0.01 seconds. Then, with her fingers forming a blade, she sliced through Ivan's barrier like a hot knife through butter, stabbing directly at his chest.

But something was off—there was no sensation of hitting a solid body.

"An illusion?" Serie frowned in surprise. However, she quickly dismissed the idea. With her perpetual curse and mental attack resistance, it was impossible for her to fall prey to external illusions.

After fully penetrating Ivan's defensive barrier, she realized his actual position differed from what she had perceived outside the barrier.

The truth was simple: Ivan had slightly adjusted the refractive properties of light passing through the barrier. Just like observing fish in a lake from the shore, what appeared to the naked eye wasn't accurate.

This trick would normally be ineffective in the outside world. Skilled mages could easily sense discrepancies using their mana perception, akin to thermal imaging. But here on the ancient battlefield, with neither combatant carrying any inherent mana reserves, such perception was unavailable.

"Rasengan!"

Ivan swiftly formed a magic-enhanced version of a spiraling sphere in his right hand, counterattacking with the sphere. Although Serie quickly retreated and set up a defensive barrier, the attack broke through and struck her arm.

"Interesting. It's been a long time since someone managed to injure me," Serie said, watching as green light emanated from her wound, healing it almost instantly.

"What was that move you used to misdirect my attack earlier?" she asked.

Ivan replied, "Middle school physics. Light refraction. Uh… I call it physical illusion magic."

"Using reality to create hallucinations in the brain without mental interference? Fascinating. And that orb-like attack magic—using the rapid rotation of mana streams to generate cutting force—simple and crude, but I like it."

Serie extended her hand and flawlessly replicated Ivan's earlier spiraling sphere. Within moments, it grew visibly larger.

Ultra Giant Spiral Sphere!

The high-speed rotation of the mana streams produced an ear-piercing sound, forcing Ivan to ascend higher in the air to put as much distance as possible between them. "Carrying something that big is bound to slow her down. If I can maintain a wide enough gap, I'll have more room to maneuver."

"You think you can escape?"

Serie grinned, placing her free hand on the ground and chanting, "Substitution!"

The area of Ivan's body that had previously come into contact with Serie suddenly throbbed with pain. In the next moment, his vision flipped upside down, and he found himself forcibly restrained beneath her.

"It's over," she declared.

The Ultra Giant Spiral Sphere slammed into Ivan, burying him deep into the ground. The violent collision of energy caused massive cracks to ripple across the battlefield.