There were very few things that could truly annoy Rose.

But when something did… it always went too far.

Riley… is doubting me?

Because of this girl?

Her golden eyes darkened as they settled on Stacia's trembling figure.

The girl was still coughing, still struggling just to stay conscious under the weight of Rose's mana.

Me?

The one he trusted the most?

The pressure around Stacia thickened, growing heavier by the second.

Riley had never said it outright.

He never needed to.

To Rose—young, foolish, and hopelessly in love—his quiet confidence had always been more than enough.

The way he stood beside her.

The way he never interfered.

The way he always looked at her like the outcome was already decided.

It's Rose. It's fine.

Rose can handle it.

There's no one else but Rose.

That was how it had always been.

Not once had Riley ever doubted her.

Not in battle.

Not in judgment.

Not in power.

He trusted her.

So why now?

Why did his voice waver?

Why did he say those words… because of her?

Rose's mana surged again, invisible weight pressing down harder on Stacia's body.

The stage creaked faintly beneath the pressure.

This girl is making him doubt me.

The realization settled in her chest—sharp and ugly.

And with it came something worse.

Annoyance.

Not the fleeting kind. Not the mild irritation she felt when Riley spent time with the others.

Not even the jealousy she learned to bury and ignore.

This was different.

This was the kind of feeling that burned slowly, quietly… and refused to fade.

Her fingers curled slightly, light gathering tighter at her fingertips.

Her gaze never left Stacia.

And for the first time since the battle began, Rose wasn't just testing.

She was angry.

"Stacia Alger Del Luna…"

Rose called her name.

"Summon your wolf."

The command was cold. Absolute.

Stacia was still on one knee, her sword dug into the stage just to keep herself from collapsing.

The pressure crushing down on her felt less like mana and more like gravity itself—heavy, merciless, inescapable.

Her ears rang.

Her vision swam.

The world tilted, blurred at the edges.

She couldn't think.

Couldn't focus.

Even breathing felt wrong, like her chest was being pressed shut from all sides.

If I don't do something now…

She knew it instinctively.

This wasn't just about losing anymore.

She would be hurt.

Broken.

Maybe worse.

"I don't know what happened but…"

Her eyes shifted through the haze.

Among the countless faces in the crowd, she saw him.

Riley.

He was watching quietly.

And that hurt more than the pressure.

I must show him…

That I'm worthy to stand by his side too.

Her fingers tightened around the hilt of her sword.

Even as her body screamed, she forced her mana to move again, drawing it back into her heart.

Beat.

The mana heart pulsed.

Crimson-gold flames wrapped around her body once more, weak at first… then stronger.

For that future to exist—

I won't give up.

With stubborn resolve, Stacia pushed herself up.

The moment she rose to her feet, the pain shifted.

Warmth washed over her.

Not heat.

Warmth—gentle, heavy, almost comforting.

Like being pulled into an embrace.

A presence settled around her soul.

[This will only be temporary, child…]

Her eyes widened slightly.

"Wolf…?"

[It will come at a price.]

[A painful one.]

[But if you wish to stand a chance… this is the only way.]

Her answer came without hesitation.

Her mana exploded outward.

A pillar of fire surged into the sky, roaring as it wrapped around her body, the flames no longer just crimson and gold—but deeper, older, wilder.

Even Rose, standing casually nearby, was forced to take a step back as the heat and pressure washed over the stage.

The wolf had answered.

What descended was not merely fire—it was flame compressed to such an absurd density that even behind layers of reinforced magical barriers, the crowd began to feel it.

Heat washed over the arena like a suffocating tide.

The air itself warped.

Protective runes flickered violently as if screaming in protest, their light distorting under pressure far beyond what they were designed to withstand.

"Reinforce the barriers—now!"

"Emergency containment formation!"

"Seal the outer arrays—don't let it spread!"

Panic erupted among teachers, competition regulators, and academy officials as they scrambled to stabilize the arena.

Sweat poured down faces as mana was dumped recklessly into failing enchantments.

But it was obvious to anyone with even a fragment of mana sense—

The protective spells were burning.

Not cracking.

Not breaking.

Burning.

Soon, they would melt away entirely.

At the center of it all, Rose stood unmoving.

The orb of condensed light remained cradled in her hand, its glow steady—but dimming faster than before.

Her golden eyes stared forward calmly.

Before her was no mere summoned spirit.

This was the pinnacle of flame.

No—

It was the embodiment of fire itself.

A being whose existence defined burning, purification, destruction, and rebirth.

Flames that did not merely consume matter—

But concepts.

Even Rose, who had reached the Eighth Circle of her mana heart, felt it immediately.

Her mana was being scorched away.

Not drained.

Scorched.

Each second the wolf remained manifested, her reserves thinned at an alarming rate, evaporating under pressure no barrier could fully resist.

Then—

GROOOOWWWLLLLL—

The sound tore through the arena.

A deep, primordial growl that sent chills down spines and silenced the crowd instantly.

From the towering inferno behind Stacia, a silhouette emerged.

A massive wolf-shaped form, forged entirely from living flame—its body shifting and flowing like molten sunlight, eyes burning with ancient intelligence.

And beneath it—

Stacia stood.

Her form small in comparison, yet unwavering.

The flames wrapped around her not as a weapon—but as acknowledgment.

"Senior…"

Her voice trembled, but she did not look away.

"…Don't die."

For the first time—

Rose's brows twitched.

She understood.

Both of them did.

This was no longer a test.

They prepared to release everything.

Stacia raised her sword high above her head.

Runes ignited across her blade and along her body, glowing with authority far older than the academy itself.

[Spirit Authority of the Fire King]

[Blessing: Sol Fal]

The flames responded instantly.

They deepened, sharpened, roaring louder as the wolf's presence surged.

[Your flames shall now burn everything.]

[Abstract concepts are no exception.]

The energy flooding Stacia was no longer mortal.

It was divine.

And as the stage cracked beneath her feet and the arena trembled—

Stacia slid into her stance.

Her feet dug into the cracked stage, her grip tightening until her knuckles burned.

The flames around her howled in response, rising higher as her resolve sharpened.

Then she swung.

SWOOOOOOOSHHHHHH—!!!!

A massive arc of blazing energy tore forward, ripping through the air like a falling sun.

The beam was wide, violent, and absolute—flames so intense they warped space itself as they surged toward Rose.

With fire that could burn everything, even concepts, victory felt possible.

Yet…

For a single heartbeat—

FOOOOSHH.

Just like that.

As casually as pinching out a candle flame, the attack vanished.

No explosion.

No clash.

No resistance.

The beam simply… ceased to exist.

Stacia froze mid-breath.

The arena fell silent.

Only scattered embers drifted down, glowing faintly before fading into ash on the stage floor.

Slowly, she lifted her gaze.

Rose stood exactly where she had been, unharmed, her expression unchanged.

I poured everything into that attack…

Her thoughts raced, disbelief clawing at her chest.

And yet—nothing?

"So, flames that meddle with the concepts of reality itself…"

Rose spoke lightly, almost thoughtfully.

"…That is impressive."

Her golden eyes met Stacia's crimson ones.

"But it isn't enough, junior. Simple methods often have simple solutions."

"W-What did you do…?"

Stacia's voice came out hoarse.

"I reversed-calculated the magic you used."

The words hit like a hammer.

Stacia's eyes widened.

Around them, murmurs erupted from the crowd—judges leaning forward, instructors staring in disbelief.

"But—that wasn't a spell…!" Stacia protested.

Rose tilted her head slightly.

"Spells. Blessings. Authorities."

She raised her hand casually.

"To me, they're all the same. The only difference is how much calculation they require."

Then—

Rose opened the palm of her left hand.

Flames ignited.

Not similar.

Identical.

The same crimson-gold fire.

The same density.

The same oppressive heat.

A perfect replica of Stacia's own power danced calmly in Rose's grasp.

"See?" Rose said quietly. "Even I can do it."

"…W—What…?"

Stacia's body trembled.

Her legs felt weak. Her mind refused to catch up.

This wasn't talent.

This wasn't genius.

This was something else entirely.

Her mana was nearly gone, her body exhausted, but what crushed her most wasn't fatigue—it was realization.

Is this… the gap?

Between someone who is talented—

And someone like Rose?

No.

Even geniuses weren't supposed to be able to do this.

Rose's gaze shifted past Stacia.

Behind her, the massive silhouette of the burning wolf was already fading, its form unstable, flames breaking apart like embers carried by the wind.

Even an ancient existence like that seemed caught off guard—its presence wavered, as if it hadn't expected its authority to be unraveled so cleanly.

Rose noticed.

She simply didn't care to explain.

Explaining would be annoying.

And no one here would understand it anyway.

"Well then," Rose said calmly, almost bored,

"If that's all you've got, junior… this will be goodbye."

The condensed light at her fingertip sharpened, its glow tightening into something lethal. The pressure alone made the air tremble.

But then—

"Stop."

A firm grip closed around Rose's right arm.

Her eyes widened slightly.

"Riley?" she said, genuinely surprised, turning her head.

He was suddenly beside her, his expression composed but serious.

"She already lost, Rose," Riley said evenly. "So calm down."

"But she—"

"Look around."

Rose paused.

"Huh… oh."

Only then did she really see it.

The barriers surrounding the arena were cracked, flickering violently, layers of protective magic barely holding together.

Academy staff were shouting orders, professors pouring mana into emergency spells, sweat and panic clear on their faces.

If Rose released that spell now—

There would be casualties.

Unwanted ones.

"…Alright."

With a quiet click of her tongue, Rose let the light fade from her fingertip.

The pressure vanished almost instantly

She looked annoyed.

Casting one last indifferent glance at Stacia, Rose turned around and slipped her arms around Riley's, pressing herself against him.

Like a territorial cat, her golden eyes narrowed slightly—sharp, warning, clearly telling Stacia to stay away from what was hers.

Riley, meanwhile, looked past Rose.

His gaze landed on Stacia.

Neutral.

Calm.

Unreadable.

No praise.

No disappointment.

Just quiet acknowledgment.

That was the last thing Stacia saw.

Her strength finally gave out.

Her knees buckled.

And her vision went dark as she collapsed onto the ruined stage.

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