For but a moment, Myron might be a bit doubtful of his opponent's accusation, before realizing both parties were ignorant of each other's context. Obviously nobody was smarter than the scribe's headmaster! Unimportant thoughts that didn't linger, the scholar wouldn't have any time to respond to the stubborn gem-wizard's remarks.

In the process of preparing himself for combat, Myron was stressed for time. He could concentrate on a couple things at once, however be unable to complete them all in strict deadlines. His arm waved fluidly, dividing focus between controlling the liquid around him, whilst preparing his book for war. His magic tome was heavily enchanted, so much that at least one of each and every rune he knew existed within its pages, even its cover was marked. To even open the book, he'd need to unlock the adamantine rune which would otherwise hold it at bind. Myron could compete for the title of 'luckiest wizard alive' when upon hearing the bursting sound of wind startled him enough to entice his reaction, however much in vain it was, he'd still leave mostly unscathed.

Immediately, the wizard swiped his wrist as quickly as he could, but the barrier rune would be erected too slowly, the fist sized gem would breach his defence, piercing through the freezing water halos to strike the enchanted tome dead-on. Any low-level codex would've been rendered useless in an instant, however Myron was prepared to face off against a possible destroyer of the world, so he came equipped for the job. Whether the gem would shatter or not, the pressure of impact would still cause the scribe's book to be thrust against his chest, forcing him to be launched backwards momentarily. Luckily his magical control over the book's sturdiness was greater than his less impressive physique, and the slanted edge of the adamant coated book would serve to redirect the attack behind Myron, along with the gem's slight grazing passing through a moving liquid circuit, thus dimming the blow just enough to save him from any serious damage.

An invisible bubble erected soon after the gem's passing, and Myron would find himself stumbling back, nearly forced against a side of his barrier. Had he been quicker on the draw, his most epic defence would've repelled such an attack with ease. Being short of breathe was the price he'd pay, to have a powerful barrier in place that his opponent would be entirely unaware of until the next move. Reality was somewhat displaced within the orbital zone, Myron would be unable to hear anything else spoken about or to him, since he was now divided from what was true to earth's domain. Spiritual magic would pass through, and perhaps that was the only exception. Sound and everything else that effected things physically were banished to the exterior.

After coughing twice, and realizing his life was spared by pure luck, Myron began to gather himself. He was not expecting such a quick attack to come out of an opposing barrier that could also deflect explosive power. There were many gimmicks to his opponent's attacks that needed to be analyzed, and a tactic made to compensate for their impressiveness. In case the gem-shaper could find a way to break this barrier particularly, Myron had to act fast. He had given himself some time, and the illusion of weakness. After regaining his balance from a knelt position, the scribe would thrust his quill forwards, and summon forth his first creation! What was once channeled silver water gathered before him in the shape of a large oval mask, nine feet in length, just tall enough to fit in the barrier when slanted. The mask wore a wide moon shaped grin, and eyes bore wide, the entire outline of each affixed with runes. Envisioning through the mask's right eye, Myron could extend his own sight. A dormant gaze of annihilation held in the left. A toothy grin drooled endlessly thanks to elemental runes seemingly eaten. All made on a palette fortified to adamantine strength. The process wouldn't take a minute, Myron was skillfully dexterous with his hands, especially when focusing all of his effort in to a project. His arm flailed furiously, as his quill want zigged and zagged as if he was a maestro conducting dubstep.

If by chance his opponent could not breach the dividing barrier by the time Myron finished his first creation, he would go on to form another; A mage like himself worked best on preparations, the kind he'd need to handle an opponent of this caliber. Working diligently, the scribe accessed the mask's eye to keep track of any other attacks made in the meanwhile.