We all moved at once.

Lisa sprinted forward, her demonic aura flickering like unstable flame.

Elena swung wide to the left, her mana gathering sharply around her blade.

And I charged straight in, my aura-wrapped sword cutting through the air with a sharp hum.

Three angles.

Three simultaneous attacks.

There was no way Clarisse could handle all of us at once—

"Not a chance."

Her cold voice cut through our momentum like a blade.

In the next instant, her shadow beneath her feet rippled.

Then—

Burst!

Several arms—sharp, long, pitch-black silhouettes—erupted from the ground like monstrous roots.

Dozens of them, twisting and coiling, moving with impossible fluidity.

They intercepted us effortlessly.

My blade clashed with one of the shadow arms—

CLANG!

It grabbed my sword perfectly, stopping it dead in its tracks.

"Tch—!"

I tried pulling back, but it held on with inhuman strength, the darkness tightening around the blade like a metal vice.

Fine. If she wanted a close-range fight—

I shifted my weapon into gauntlets through the illusory orb's power, the transformation instantaneous.

Crackle—

Lightning crawled up my arms.

"Lightning Strike!"

BOOOOM!

My fist slammed directly into Clarisse's face.

Or at least, it should have.

But right before impact, shadows surged up from her collar, forming a thick barrier over her skin.

My fist struck the barrier instead, sparks flying wildly.

Clarisse didn't even flinch.

"That level of attack cannot hurt me."

Her voice was flat.

Almost bored.

I barely had time to react before her hand—no, a shadow-coated claw—swung toward my neck with lethal precision.

"—!"

I activated Magnetic Force instantly.

A violent pull snapped through the air—my body and Clarisse's locking together for a split second as opposite charges collided.

Her eyes widened.

"What—?"

Before she could finish, the repulsive force kicked in.

BOOM—!!

We were blasted apart like magnets forced to separate.

I felt my stomach lurch as my body shot backward, skidding across the ground until I tumbled to a stop.

I groaned, clutching my back.

"…What was that just now?" Clarisse muttered, genuinely confused.

She looked around as if expecting the culprit to be hiding behind a tree.

But there was nothing—no visible magic circle, no spell formation, nothing she could identify.

That uncertainty made her irritated… and cautious.

I forced myself up despite the ache in my spine.

Elena and Lisa continued to engage Clarisse, but it was painfully obvious they weren't making progress.

Clarisse moved between shadows like they were stepping stones—slipping between strikes, turning hits into misses, and avoiding every blow by a hair's breadth.

We couldn't keep this up.

If this drags on, our magic will run out first.

Then—

Lisa brushed past me, barely avoiding Clarisse's blade.

"Just once," she whispered, her voice low and urgent. "Give me one opening. I'll try something."

She had a plan.

And if it came from Lisa—the girl with forbidden power—it wasn't going to be simple.

I nodded.

"Got it."

I tightened my grip and sprinted forward.

"Elena! Fall back!"

"Understood!"

Elena disengaged immediately, creating space.

Now it was my turn.

I dragged every last drop of magic up from my core, feeling the familiar heat spreading through my veins.

"Lightning Strike!!"

CRAAAAAAAAACK—!!

A blinding bolt descended from the heavens, slamming into the ground.

The impact shook the earth beneath us.

Clarisse leaped back with inhuman agility—but I kept going.

"Don't stop… don't stop…!"

BOOM!!

KRA-KA-THOOOM!!

BBBBZZZZZZZT—!!

Lightning rained down in rapid succession, turning the forest clearing into a storm-torn battlefield.

Shadows scattered like smoke wherever lightning touched, forcing Clarisse to abandon her comfortable rhythm.

She clicked her tongue in annoyance,

Clarisse focused entirely on shielding her head, shadows gathering and swirling around her like living armor.

All her attention was locked onto defending against my lightning—so much so that she didn't notice what was happening behind her.

Lisa, who had been silently gathering her magic all this time, finally stepped forward.

"Take this!!"

Her voice rang out sharply.

A surge of magic exploded from her body—so immense the ground trembled beneath our feet.

The air rippled, heavy enough to make my skin prickle.

And then—

RUMBLE—!

My breath caught.

From the ground beneath Clarisse, a massive black spike—towering, jagged, and unmistakably lethal—erupted upward like a spear fired from the depths of the earth.

"What—?!"

She reacted too late.

Still focused on blocking the last of my lightning, Clarisse couldn't defend herself in time.

"Kuh…!"

The spike impaled her cleanly through the chest and lifted her into the air.

For a single horrific moment, she hung there—suspended like a broken marionette.

CRASH!!

The spike shattered, and Clarisse's body plummeted.

She hit the ground with a sickening thud, dust exploding around her.

Silence followed.

A heavy, shocked silence.

Even Lisa, who had unleashed the attack, stared wide-eyed at the motionless figure on the ground.

I waited for the cloud of dust to settle—slowly, grain by grain—before approaching her.

Even now, I didn't relax my guard.

Clarisse lay on the ground, a gaping hole torn through her chest, her eyes unfocused as she stared up at the sky.

"...Cough!"

She spat out a mouthful of blood, then dragged her gaze toward me, her eyes hollow but still conscious.

She was alive?

I clicked my tongue, unable to hide my disbelief.

How was she still breathing with a wound like that?

Unbelievably tenacious.

"Have I… lost…?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper, trembling at the edges.

She was still conscious, but her body clearly couldn't continue fighting. The pain alone must've been unbearable.

"Yes, you lost," I answered plainly. "We won."

"I see…"

She let out a faint exhale, turning her eyes back to the sky as if accepting her fate.

I crouched beside her.

"One thing," I said, my voice low. "Who exactly gave you that power?"

That question had lingered in my mind since the very beginning.

Someone had given her this power—this demonic, corrupted force.

But who?

"I don't know the details…" Clarisse murmured. "He just… told me to call him… the Doctor."

The Doctor.

I narrowed my eyes.

Before I could ask anything else, Clarisse shut her mouth tight, refusing to say more.

Under normal circumstances, she'd eventually be forced to talk. But right now, she was barely clinging to life.

I stood and lifted my gaze.

Above us, the transparent barrier that had sealed the area was slowly unraveling—fading away like mist under sunlight.

Then, from far away—voices.

"Quick! Rescue the students!!"

You're too late…

By the time the professors sprinted toward us, panic written all over their faces, exhaustion crashed over me like a wave.

My legs gave out.

I let myself collapse right there on the ground, the world tilting sideways as everything finally caught up to me.

*****

A dimly lit room.

Only a handful of candles flickered, their flames swaying gently in the darkness.

Then—

A breeze slipped in from somewhere unseen.

Fwooo—

One of the candles went out with a soft hiss.

"…Hmm."

The elderly man standing before them stroked his long, silver beard as he stared at the extinguished flame.

"So it's already over?"

His voice was calm, almost bored.

He had known from the start that one of the world's greatest transcendents—a dragon—was present at the scene.

Even so, the old man let out a hollow laugh at how disappointingly simple and anticlimactic things had turned out.

"I put quite a bit of effort into that work…"

He murmured to himself, recalling the look in the eyes of the red-haired girl—

The girl who desired power more desperately than anyone else.

He tapped his finger against the wooden table, lost in thought.

He had hoped for more chaos.

More destruction.

More fun.

But it seemed she was far more incompetent than he had expected.

Still…

"It wasn't without results," he whispered, a faint smirk forming.

He had already accomplished the most important objective of his plan.

So even if things hadn't unfolded as dramatically as he wanted, it wasn't a failure.

Leaving behind the two extinguished candles, the old man turned his gaze toward the remaining ones—

Faintly glowing, their light unsteady but alive.

"Now… for the next work."

His murmured words slipped into the darkness.

With calm, half-lidded eyes, he stepped toward the wall where several photographs were pinned.

One by one, his gaze traced over them, studying each face.

Then he stopped.

A slow, satisfied smile curved his lips.

"You'll do nicely."

The eyes of the old man settled on a single photograph—

A portrait of Louis's fiancée.

Viola.

The old man's finger traced the edge of Viola's photograph, his smile deepening—slow, deliberate, unsettling.

A faint crackle traveled along his fingertip.

A spark of mana.

"Viola," he murmured, savoring the name. "A vessel with talent, but more importantly…"

His eyes narrowed, glinting with something close to amusement.

"…a heart that can be shaken."

He snapped his fingers lightly.

Fssshh—

Another candle extinguished, snuffed out without even a wisp of smoke.

The flame simply vanished, as though erased from existence.

The old man didn't even glance at it.

All his focus remained on Viola.

"She has something the others lacked. Stability. Attachment. Fear."

Each word was whispered as if he were reciting a recipe.

"And people like her… break beautifully."

He turned away from the photograph, his robe sweeping across the stone floor with a faint rustle. The remaining candles flickered in his passing, their flames bending toward him like they were being pulled by an unseen gravitational force.

From the shadows, a figure stirred.

"Master," a rasping voice whispered. "Shall we proceed?"

The old man did not answer immediately.

Instead, he looked again at the wall of photographs—faces of students, nobles, knights, people scattered across the Empire. Lives he could twist at any moment.

His gaze lingered for a breath on Louis's face.

"…Not yet," he said at last. "The boy is changing faster than expected. Let us watch a little longer."

He gestured toward Viola's picture with two fingers.

"Begin with her. Slowly. Gently. Fear grows best when it believes it is safe."

The shadowy figure bowed its head and melted back into the darkness like a stain sinking into water.

Only the old man remained—silent, smiling faintly before whispering to the flames:

"Louis… let us see how much you can lose before you break."

One more candle went dark.

The room fell into deeper shadow.

The game had already begun.

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