The black skull wreathed in green flames froze solid.
It wasn’t just a thin frost clinging to its surface. The blazing emerald fire itself was sealed inside the ice.
It looked like a living specimen encased in a flawless crystal sculpture.
Time itself seemed to have stopped.
Casey lifted her head in shock.
All the torrents of water she had drawn from the sea and spread around the area had frozen stiff, turned into vast sculptures of ice.
Through the frozen stillness, snowflakes began to fall.
And lighter than the drifting snow descended Marias Selmore.
“Hah.”
Casey twisted her lips.
“What took you so long?”
“I had other places to handle first~.”
“Tch. If you were coming, you could’ve come earlier.”
Though she spoke sharply, Casey couldn’t help but marvel inwardly at Marias’s power.
‘She froze it all in an instant. Even that black skull I struggled to restrain, she sealed so easily.’
True, it had weakened somewhat fighting her, and had replenished its fire by draining Kaloto’s disciple.
But even taking that into account, it was strong.
And yet Marias suppressed it effortlessly, as if to make a point.
‘We both bear the title of Color, but... the gap is still this wide.’
Casey had thought she’d grown stronger. But Marias was still far ahead.
Not as unreachable as before—at least she could see where her sister stood.
Even so, the frustration rose in her chest.
‘If I ever fought her, I’d lose without question.’
Marias not only had greater mastery of her element—she also held the advantage of affinity.
Casey controlled water.
But Marias commanded ice and cold.
No matter how much water Casey gathered, Marias could freeze it all and claim it for herself.
‘But I won’t give up.’
She had tasted enough defeat.
She had realized bitterly how much she had relied only on her talent.
From now on, she swore, she would not repeat that failure.
“Hm.”
Marias, eyes narrowed, watched Casey clench her fists.
Her sister probably didn’t even realize she was burning with excess determination.
Marias didn’t hold it against her.
In truth, she felt like praising her.
‘My little sister really has grown, living in this world.’
She was no longer the reckless idealist she once had been. She could now face reality too.
Marias had once worried her sister’s naïveté would leave her constantly deceived and beaten down.
But looking at her now, perhaps not.
‘Still, her growth isn’t the issue at this moment.’
Marias’s gaze returned to the skull.
Frozen along with its flames—but not dead.
Crack.
Water trickled down the ice as it began to melt.
Crash!
The skull burst free, green eyes blazing, shattering the prison.
Whoosh!
Its flames roared higher, seething with rage.
It had been doused, frozen, humiliated. For a being born of hellfire, it was an unbearable disgrace.
And yet, it acted shrewdly.
It didn’t rush at Marias immediately.
“Oh my.”
From its posture, Marias read its thoughts.
“Not long born, but already scheming? Clever child.”
She spoke lightly, but it was no joke.
This creature had been born to destroy—kill, burn, and leave nothing but ash.
Its mana stank of death.
But worse was that it had intelligence.
What if a wildfire had a will of its own?
What if it could deceive and fight psychological battles against humans?
The devastation would be countless times worse than any natural disaster.
And the black skull before her was far more dangerous than even that.
It had to be ended here and now.
“I suppose I’ll have to finish this properly.”
Marias’s eyes swept the surroundings.
Two people were missing.
One was Kaloto’s first disciple, still alive.
The other was Ludger Cherish.
‘One fled, and the other chased. A wise choice.’
Staying here would only hinder her.
“Casey. Step back, will you?”
“...You’re going to face it alone?”
“Yes. I’ve been sitting still too long. I need to stretch my body a little.”
“Hah. Fine.”
Casey retreated without protest.
Once Marias declared herself so firmly, watching from the side would be more exhausting than helping.
She could fight if she wished.
But then she would have to endure the coming storm of ice.
‘And I hate the cold.’
Given the skull’s strength, Marias would have to use ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) considerable power.
Her ice magic would spread far beyond this dockside warehouse.
“I’ll warn the agents.”
“Please.”
Marias waved absently in farewell, eyes never leaving the skull.
“Well then. Shall we begin?”
Fwoosh!
The skull tried to flee.
Crash-crash-crash!
Countless massive pillars of ice fell from the heavens.
“No, you don’t.”
There had been no chant, no gesture, no staff.
Just her will. And dozens of colossal ice spears erupted in midair and slammed down into the earth.
Sheer mass, keen edges, and cold that bit to the bone.
“You won’t take a single step away.”
The skull, barely surviving within that cage, felt a chill of its own.
This human was dangerous.
* * *
Kaloto’s first disciple, Delmart, ran without looking back.
‘Damn it. Damn it!’
His master was dead. His master’s corpse had become a monster. His fellow disciples were all slain.
But he felt no grief.
Among black mages, there was no place for camaraderie or friendship.
He was called the first disciple, but he knew: if his skills ever faltered, he would be discarded.
But that was when everything still stood intact.
Now that all had collapsed, Delmart had only one choice: run for his life.
‘I need to hide, anywhere.’
He didn’t know what that green monster truly was, but it was clearly after their hellfire mana.
He had seen his junior drained dry, unable to resist.
Had he lingered, he would have been next.
‘Good thing I prepared a hideout for emergencies like this.’
He would hole up there, then slip away when he could.
The future was uncertain—but also promising.
‘Master is dead. All the others are dead. I alone survive. That makes me the sole heir of the Hellfire School.’
And sole meant the greatest.
Compared to Kaloto, he lacked much, but he had already learned all there was to learn in theory.
With time, he could surpass him.
‘I’ll revive the Hellfire School!’
Not out of loyalty—out of ambition.
The dream of becoming the best kept him running, even in fear.
But Delmart overlooked one thing.
Fate’s shadow always waits to snare those who dream.
“Huh?”
He pitched forward suddenly.
His body rolled across the ground, dragged by a force beyond his will.
“W-what—”
He looked down and saw his ankles severed.
He screamed.
“M-my legs! What happened?!”
Through tears and pain, he summoned mana.
Someone had cut him. His enemy was near.
And then the thought hit him.
He had seen this before.
From the ground, his shadow speared upward like a spike, piercing both his palms.
“Gaaaaahhh!”
The hellfire mana he had barely gathered scattered.
Legs gone, hands pinned—he looked like an insect specimen.
“Busy night for you.”
A calm voice, footsteps in the alley.
A man stepped from the darkness.
“You... you’re...”
Delmart’s face went pale as if seeing death itself.
That man. The one who had killed his juniors, who had turned his master into a monster.
The monster had come for him.
Delmart understood instinctively.
This was no Bureau agent.
This was something far worse, a creature crawling from deeper filth than himself.
“P-please... spare me...”
“That depends on your answers.”
Ludger stood before him.
“If you answer what I ask faithfully, I might overlook you and let you slip away.”
“A-anything! Ask anything!”
Delmart was quick-witted.
To resist now would only earn him more pain.
“Good. That makes things easier.”
Ludger snapped his fingers.
Warm light sealed the bleeding stumps of his legs.
Delmart shivered.
Not holy magic—something else entirely.
To him, Ludger looked like a monster beyond reason.
“Your Hellfire School was based in Isla Machia. Who drove you out?”
“We... we don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
“It’s true! One day, they appeared. I don’t know where they hid before, but the other black mage schools were crushed in an instant. There was no chance to resist!”
“Nothing suspicious among them?”
“N-no... wait! One thing! Just one!”
He scraped his memory desperately, offering anything to survive.
“What was it?”
“There was one strange figure. They said he looked like a knight. He wore a hood, but underneath was black armor. You couldn’t miss it.”
“Black armor...”
Ludger murmured.
“So it was like that.”
The incidents in Isla Machia.
The Black Dawn Society was involved.
The First Order itself.
‘Knight Verom. If he’s moved, then Isla Machia is staging something.’
As Ludger knew, Verom wore relic armor and wielded immense close-combat strength.
But if such a man rallied followers in a mage-filled city, could he really build power so successfully?
‘And judging from before, Verom preferred working alone. He came because of Victor Dreadpool.’
So this time too—was it tied to Victor?
‘That mad scientist could do anything. But Victor wasn’t the type to build power and control people.’
There was only one who could.
‘Nicolai.’
Schemes. Information wars. Hidden moves.
If anyone could have prepared Isla Machia for this, it was him.
‘But why stage it there?’
Ludger shook his head.
As if they needed a reason.
The point was—they were scheming in Isla Machia.
And Isla Machia mattered to him too.
“Fine. I’ve heard enough.”
“Th-then...”
Delmart’s eyes lit with hope.
But a blade whispered, and his head fell sideways.
The swordstick had cut his throat.
Ludger had never intended to let him live.
Erasing the evidence, he turned to leave.
“What are you doing?”
Casey stood there, watching him with eyes of distrust.