"Take my Ice-Iron Elbow, you damn Fanatic!"
Armor crackling with jagged ice thorns, Vinny staggered forward, body pitched low, pouring every ounce of his weight into his shoulder and forward-driving elbow, smashing it rcilessly into the Fanatic’s abdon.
In an instant, the Fanatic was blasted clean off the ground, tumbling through the air for dozens of ters before he barely managed to stabilize himself.
Vinny honestly had no idea how much of that impact was really his doing. Maybe one percent? Maybe less? Whatever—he didn’t care. The satisfaction of sending the bastard flying? That was enough.
Sure, factually speaking, Aesphyra probably contributed ninety-nine percent of the force behind that blow... But didn’t he provide at least one percent?
Hey, even glaring at the guy should count as a visual assist, right? Saying the Fanatic got repelled by him wasn’t exactly a lie.
The Fanatic, flung backwards, finally steadied himself with great difficulty. Scalding blood and crystallized frozen blood dripped from his body in rivulets. But there was far less frozen blood—the searing, boiling blood poured down in sheets, lting and overtaking what little ice crystals had ford.
"Tch... This guy’s random Alchemical Blood package is that versatile? He’s got fire, ice, and lightning elental affinities all mixed in?" Vinny muttered.
“Ugh... Ugh...!” The Fanatic crouched low, swiping away the steaming blood pouring from his forehead. His trembling hand was slick with crimson.
“Pitiful humans... You dare wound ?!” The rage blazing in his eyes left no doubt—Aesphyra’s last strike had completely infuriated him.
The nearly three-ter-tall mutated monster let out a guttural, tearing screech, like a shattered organ pipe. Slamming both arms into the ground, sparks of lightning and roaring gales burst forth. Two fundantally different elental forces rged into a singular, chaotic storm, erupting violently before the Radiant Sanctum.
[Lightning Storm]
Two-Elent Storm?
Vinny’s eyes twitched. He still rembered watching Isatia conjure a Three-Elent Storm during the academy entrance exams—etched deep in his mory.
On the continent of Tyrelis, Multi-Elent Storms were practically legendary. Even ordinary folk who didn’t know a fireball from a mana crystal had heard whispers of these spells.
They were infamous for good reason—deadly powerful, impossibly difficult, and symbolically prestigious. Unlike typical high-tier magic, Multi-Elent Storms required not just a mage-type Soul Armant, but also exceptional elental affinity and comprehension across multiple forces.
Think of it like tea—different flavors crafted from the sa basic ingredients of milk and leaves. Multi-Elent Storms were built on the sa principle. The base? A storm. The mix-ins? As many elents as your control could handle.
The Fanatic’s concoction? Lightning and wind—a classic, brutal combination. His affinity and control over both elents must be absurdly high to conjure such a potent Dual-Elent Storm.
Compared to that... Vinny's earlier Lightning enchantnt from his magic ring? Child’s play. Hell, the storm hadn’t even swept over yet and his bones were already tingling with static.
And the worst part? The Fanatic cast it instantly. No preamble. No build-up. Just raw effort and fanatical will, befitting a high-ranking Alchemical Demon God zealot.
Vinny clenched his jaw. He wanted to hurl out another Frostmoon Crescent Slash, maybe pop up an ice wall for defense—but reality sucked. That spell wasn’t sothing you could spam freely. It needed charge ti, and against the Fanatic's firepower? His own magic arsenal was embarrassingly weak. Either bank on Frostfang's enchantnts or gamble with Condensed Ice Lock and headbutts.
"This bastard... Planning to wreck the cathedral like it’s his personal dance floor or sothing?" Vinny growled.
If this lunatic kept raging unchecked, even Saintess Selina Cathedral's reinforced do wouldn’t hold.
A thousand-year-old sanctuary, built from holy silver and jadeite that resisted the erosion of ti itself... Every brick, every tile, priceless beyond asure. The damage bill alone would be astronomical.
Thankfully... Aesphyra moved.
Grasping her radiant, divine sword, fingers pale as jade weaving glowing spell-seals in the air, she conjured dozens of intricate magic runes in an instant.
Vinny stood frozen, jaw slack.
His Soul Armant wasn’t mage-type—he couldn’t decipher these spell patterns—but the sight still left him awestruck.
Those complex, cryptic runes made his scalp prickle, reminiscent of those maddening ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ advanced calculus equations from his past life. One glance at the tangled ss of symbols and numbers, and your brain was overloaded.
And Aesphyra? Effortlessly sculpted dozens of them with a flick of her delicate wrist.
Standing before her, even the most dazzling prodigies seed utterly dull.
“Boom—BOOM—BOOM!”
The Lightning Storm ravaged the second floor of the cathedral, but Aesphyra remained unfazed. She reversed her grip on the holy sword, flicked it skyward, slicing apart the compressed runes—unleashing a storm infused with multiple elental forces, roaring straight into the heart of the enemy’s tempest.
Gods clashing, mortals suffering. Vinny, knowing full well he couldn’t contribute to this exchange, wisely retreated several dozen ters to avoid any stray AOE.
Against the Fanatic's Dual-Elent Storm, Aesphyra retaliated in kind—with her own Multi-Elent Storm.
"One, two, three... four..." Vinny counted the storm's elents aloud. Lightning. Earth. Wind. And of course, her signature—flas.
The visual impact? Ridiculous.
In Vinny's eyes, the storm carried roaring crimson lotus flas. Thunder bood within its swirling eye. Debris whipped along its edges as jagged cracks split the earth in its wake, the ground itself trembling under its might.
“Four-Elent Storm... Damn.” Vinny swallowed hard.
Theoretically, Multi-Elent Storms had no hard limit. As long as your control and elental affinity were high enough, even Nine-Elent Storms were possible.
Emphasis on theoretically. Historically? No one had ever pulled that off.
Look, reality was cruel. Mastering a Nine-Elent Storm ant possessing a mage-type Soul Armant plus peak affinity across every elent—a fantasy at best.
It’s like saying every person has strengths and weaknesses—no one’s perfect. No one had flawless affinity with all elents.
Hell, plenty of elents outright conflicted—light and darkness, ice and fire, water and fire, fire and nature...
Even if soone had the potential, rging all nine was practically impossible. Jumping from a Three-Elent to a Four-Elent Storm was already a quantum leap in difficulty, not a minor upgrade.
And yet... Aesphyra checked every impossible box.
Her Hero Soul Armant? Officially warrior-type, yet uniquely capable of casting every mage-type spell known.
Her fire affinity shattered all limits, and her overall elental affinity? Outstanding across the board. On paper, she was the first person in history with a legitimate shot at conjuring a Nine-Elent Storm.
Others might not believe it. Vinny? Oh, he believed.
Among first-year students, finding even three who could manage a Three-Elent Storm was impossible—forget a Four-Elent one.
Don’t get it twisted—four wasn’t Aesphyra's ceiling. If she really wanted to, maybe one day she'd unleash a full Nine-Elent Storm.
Her Four-Elent Storm crashed into the Fanatic's Dual-Elent Storm, both devouring magic at a brutal pace.
But the collateral damage?
Cathedral roof, support beams—under imnse strain.
"Hey! Maybe try not blowing the ceiling down?!" Vinny shouted, clutching his wind-tangled hair, but his voice vanished beneath the roar of clashing storms.
Not that she needed reminding.
Vinny's eyes widened. The cathedral walls, floors, and beams glead with layered water shields and earthen barriers.
What the hell... When did she set those up?
He hadn’t even seen Aesphyra’s casting motions.
And in that brief ti, she’d blanketed every inch of the structure in intricate, multi-elental defenses. Like doing impossible calculus while simultaneously acing every other subject. Multitasking beyond reason.
Vinny had lost count of how many tis he’d asked himself this:
Was this pocket-sized gremlin even human?
Why was the gap between people this absurdly massive?
Honestly? Apart from her... modest height, there wasn’t a single imperfection you could find in Aesphyra—even under a magnifying glass.
Vinny, reluctantly, started understanding why the original novel’s heroines fell for her.
This silver-haired girl was absurdly confident, unwavering, impossibly skilled, dangerously flirty... Gender? That was irrelevant.
Soone this outrageously powerful, this maddeningly flawless, this shalessly good at everything—what sane person wouldn’t fall?
Not that he planned to join the harem ranks anyti soon. But still, he could empathize. A little.
"Hey..." Vinny began, but froze mid-sentence.
He just noticed—the sa transparent water and earth shields covered him too.
Was she... protecting him?
Vinny wasn’t sure if he should be touched or alard.
Honestly? His emotions were... complicated.
Never thought he’d see the day Aesphyra went out of her way to safeguard him.
But...
Vinny’s brows furrowed.
Protecting him ant dividing her attention—a deadly gamble in a life-or-death fight. She’d said so herself: hesitation in battle could kill you.
Diverting spells and energy to shield him and the ancient cathedral? Reckless.
Turns out, Aesphyra was surprisingly devout—willing to burn through precious resources to protect millennia-old relics.
But that sa devotion drained her magic reserves fast. The Fanatic’s raw power, his Dual-Elent Storm alone, was damn near as destructive as a Three-Elent Storm.
Even Aesphyra couldn’t secure a swift victory under these conditions.
Terrifying, really—considering how young she was. First-year student, at that.
A Four-Elent Storm should’ve overwheld a Dual-Elent Storm—but Aesphyra’s magic and stamina were stretched thin, and in the end... it was a stalemate.
The raging storm nearly blinded Vinny, debris howling in every direction.
But as the elental fury dissipated, Vinny stood dumbfounded.
The grand hall? Completely unscathed.
The devastation Multi-Elent Storms could unleash—everyone knew that.
But Aesphyra? She’d flawlessly counteracted the collateral damage, nullifying both her own magic and the enemy’s within the area.
One slip-up, and it all would've collapsed.
But now? Silver hair pristine, expression calm, radiant composure untouched—Aesphyra stood as if the elental clash never even happened. Not a single strand of hair out of place.
The ease of the strong...
“You’re powerful, human,” the Fanatic sneered, shaking his head. “But you’re shackled by hesitation. That’s your weakness.”
“Unlike you, I have no such restraints. I exist to shatter your false ‘order.’ Nothing more.”
“My goal is pure. That’s why... you’ll never defeat .”
Aesphyra smiled faintly, lips curling with understated pride. “You’re not bad yourself. You’ve lasted this long against —congratulations.”
Vinny cupped his hands around his mouth, shouting, “Keep talking, buddy! The two of us can stall you here all day. Once the combat instructors show up? You’re screwed. So, maybe run along now, yeah?”
The Fanatic chuckled darkly. “Our infiltration of Carillian Academy wasn’t so random prank.”
“We’ve been embedded for years... all for one purpose. Waiting for the right mont to strike down this so-called ‘proud institution’ in one decisive blow.”
“You think this little scuffle is so harmless distraction? You think we exposed so many of our operatives just to ‘play around’?”
The Fanatic’s laughter echoed, eyes glinting with cold finality.
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