There Prota was, standing against two of the people she thought she could call friends. They stood against her, hands stretched out, tears in their eyes. It wasn't them she held a vendetta against.

It was Draco.

"Well? What are you waiting for? Give me a show."

Somehow, those words felt familiar. She wasn't sure why, but it felt like a long-lost memory.

She shook her head. Pointless thoughts would only serve to distract her right now. John was accustomed to throwing out taunts and insults during battle, but she wasn't at a stage where she could afford to be distracted. She'd barely managed to make it a tie against the siblings last time, and the two had definitely improved more than she had over the past few months.

Well, that wasn't exactly true. She hadn't been going all out the last time they fought.

"I'm sorry," Prota whispered, but she wasn't holding back anymore.

Her eyes began to glow as the air around her froze, her Blossom of Ice forming before her.

"What the- Ryan, she's doing it! Hurry!"

"I know!"

The red-haired boy quickly began to chant his own spell, and while it was a little faster than Prota's signature move, they still hadn't practiced chanting high-circle spells while moving. Frozen by fear and panic, the twins forgot some of their training.

The giant spear of fire shot right toward Prota, but the small girl was already moving, the grass underneath freezing as she moved, shattering as her legs ran through the fields, crumbling under her feet. Tears streaming down her eyes, she threw the crystal flower, the petals shattering as soon as they reached the twins.

This time, though, they were more prepared. They knew what it was, having dealt with it once. Shields were quickly put up, blocking the shards of ice that would've done some serious damage had they ignored them once more.

Prota was somewhat shocked. While she'd known they'd improved since the last time they'd clashed, this was the first time in a while that they'd seriously fought against each other. Their control over their emotions. Their reactiveness to Prota's attacks.

At this point, she wasn't even sure if she could win. Not without Soul Steal.

"...let's do it," Lilith said, but her voice was weak.

Right. That was one thing she had going for her. Just as much as she didn't want to fight them, they didn't want to fight her. She could use that to her advantage. They'd make more mistakes, trip up, and that was when she could strike.

"Go!" Ryan yelled, his voice cracking.

Lilith launched a giant spear of ice, forcing Prota to turn to the side, the edge of the magic brushing against Prota's cheek, drawing a thin line of blood. The smaller girl didn't hesitate to dash in, taking advantage of the fact that both of them were slower at casting than she was. Ryan, however, still had his own attack prepared.

"Please, don't make this harder than it has to be!"

The giant spear of flames came hurtling at her, but she was ready. Moving her lips without making a sound, she froze the ground and slid, ducking right underneath the attack without losing her momentum. In moments, she was back up, moving as if she'd never stopped.

"Lilith. Ryan. I want to win," she said quietly, her cold eyes glowing blue.

The twins flinched. They weren't used to Prota acting like this. Where was the soft, shy girl who sat by herself? Where was the girl who flinched at strangers brushing by, the girl who listened but barely spoke?

Now. They were hesitating, just as she'd expected. They wouldn't expect her to do such a thing, and—

Hold on. Since when had she started thinking like this? Since when had it been like her to take advantage of an enemy's mental cracks? She wasn't seeing them as friends. She saw them as targets to take out. Something like that was more up John's alley, and it was one of the things she hated seeing.

No, she was changing. Without her even realizing it, all of John's talk about [Plot] and [Story] subtly influenced her. When she listened to him mumble, she unconsciously adapted his way of thinking. She'd learned to fight by watching him, learned to dance with death by dying with him.

But she wasn't John. She was Prota. She didn't want to just tear through everything the way John did. She wanted to protect those she called precious.

Unfortunately, this caused her to hesitate far longer than the twins did, resulting in an icicle piercing right through her left shoulder. She clenched her teeth, grabbing her arm, but it didn't hurt. She looked back up, blood dripping down her cloak as she analyzed the situation.

She'd have to make a decision now. She'd been in a situation like this before. John had taught her what to do. It wasn't about making the right choice. It was about making a choice and sticking to it. And right now, she wanted to win. The aftermath could be dealt with later.

Draco needed attention now.

Right. She didn't want to walk the same path John had walked, but that didn't mean she couldn't accomplish her goals. "Victory." Right now, that meant winning, even if that meant defeating her friends.

Having cast Blossom of Ice, her mana reserves were sitting around half-full. She had to keep in mind that she needed to fight the cocky noble after this, too. She racked her brain, searching for a technique, when one finally came to mind. One that used first circle spells, but was still incredibly effective. It was interesting that she hadn't used it more. After all, the one John called the "strongest" was the one who'd shown it to her.

In her right hand, a swirling ball of flame formed. In the left, a nearly invisible ball of wind. She still didn't understand why it worked, but the combination of forced oxygen and flame was something comparable to a third circle spell at the very least.

"What's she doing?" Lilith said in a shaky voice.

Ryan frowned, putting his hands together. "I don't know, but it can't be good! Get ready!"

"But they're just first circle-"

Lilith didn't get to finish her sentence. The fireball was thrown, and the twins blocked, saving as much mana as they could, but that was their mistake. Their plan to save their energy would have been the right move against any other attack. This one, though, was not what it seemed. To their eyes, she was simply throwing two different types of spells. They were surprised that she could use wind magic, but still, how much could a first circle spell hurt?

The answer was a lot. It could hurt a lot. A massive explosion swept them off their feet, sending them flying through the air. Lilith barely managed to form a ball of water to cushion their landing, but the damage had been done.

"What the hell was that?"

"I don't know! I've never heard of a spell like that!"

Prota grit her teeth. This wasn't good. She'd been relying on the element of surprise, and if that hadn't worked, then she was out of—

Wait a minute. There was something left. One more trick she'd just learned, something no caster would expect. It wasn't anything related to her abilities. It wasn't something she needed to keep hidden. She wasn't sure if she'd be able to recover after, but-

No. She'd recover. Right now, it was all or nothing.

Channelling her mana into her brain and eyes, time seemed to stop. She couldn't move either, but she could see everything. Lilith and Ryan preparing their spells, a spark of flame and bits of ice gathering together. Their mouths open, chanting, their eyes wide open, ready to shoot.

Prota wanted to breathe. Her mind was telling her that she should be taking in a breath, that she needed oxygen, but she couldn't breathe. Her brain was too fast for her body to catch up. But mana, magic, those weren't things she needed her body for.

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Mana rose from her core, flowing out of her fingers, pulling the air around them together to form yet another ball of wind. But that wasn't enough. She summoned another. And another. And then a fireball. And another. And another. Compressing, shaping, forcing them into what would look like a normal first-circle spell. The flames would be blue, but there was nothing she could do about that.

She couldn't keep it up any longer. The mana flowing to her brain stopped, leaving her with a measly ten percent of mana in her core, but if she used up everything, she would stand absolutely zero chance against Draco. Time seemed to resume in a snap, and all the gathered mana smashed together, magic forming in the air.

"What the- she didn't even chant!" Ryan yelled as he saw the spells form in the blink of an eye.

As far as he knew, even castless chanting wasn't that fast. To them, the spells had appeared out of thin air. His mouth began to move as he chanted the spell for a shield.

It was too late, though. The two spells went hurtling toward the twins. They knew to protect themselves better this time, but it was useless. The explosion knocked them off their feet, and Prota was ready this time. They were flying fast, but Prota's icicles were faster, and their sharp tips pierced the siblings' throats. Their bodies turned to light before they could even land.

Prota rested heavily on her knees, panting, feeling the sweat drip down her face. It didn't hurt, but she could feel her lungs burning, her mind going fuzzy as a consequence of using that strange ability for so long with so little mana. Still, there was one thing left to do.

Her vision was swimming in and out of focus. Her stomach was turning on itself, making her nauseous from the mana she'd used. She was so used to using mana recovery over and over that this kind of exhaustion was a feeling she was largely unfamiliar with. She staggered like a drunkard, her footsteps erratic in rhythm, but she was moving forward.

There was no time to rest. No time to stop. There was still one opponent to vanquish.

~~~

"What was that?!"

Leora, normally calm and composed, stood up, her eyes bulging as she watched what had just transpired.

That wasn't a technique she'd ever taught the students. The ability to use mana reinforcement on specific parts of your body. If anything, that was something the older Fighting students learned. But that still didn't excuse anything. Even if Prota had friends in the Fighting class, they wouldn't be able to teach her the technique. No, forget that. Even if she'd been taught the technique, how had she mastered it so quickly?

And how had she known to use it like that?

The ability was something Leora used herself, to compound and compile spells together to create powerful magic. However, it was impractical for most casters that she never bothered to teach it. They were meant to focus on other things, meaning their ability to use mana reinforcement was far from that of fighters.

In the first place, perfecting the technique required an intricate understanding of mana reinforcement. Sure, there was biology and how the body worked, but that wasn't knowledge the mortals were supposed to have. All they knew was that they needed to concentrate their mana in their body to an incredible degree.

Casters shouldn't have any of that knowledge.

But somehow, this tiny girl had done it. This technique wasn't in the syllabus for a reason. It wasn't supposed to be possible for mortal casters to learn.

Maybe… maybe the girl was a battle mage? No, surely not. Her body was frail, and she'd never used her fists once. Sure, she fought in an interesting manner, moving with swiftness and grace, fighting in close quarters, risking her life at every move, but that didn't make her a fighter. A few casters she knew employed that tactic.

No, a battle mage needed to use their fists. The whole point was to use your overwhelming strength. Prota never displayed such physical prowess, not once.

So there was no answer. No solution to this puzzle. The girl was an anomaly.

"Go," Leora whispered without even realizing it. "Go."

~~~

Draco got up from his sitting spot, casually making his way to Prota.

"Bravo," he said, clapping slowly. He slowly got up from his sitting spot, walking forward with a smug smile. "I honestly didn't think you'd win that. Well, you are a-"

He didn't get to finish his sentence. Prota's eyes were wide and trembling, her teeth grit as she threw spell after spell at the noble. Gone was her finesse. Gone was her strategy. There was one word in her mind.

Kill.

Memory after memory played through her mind like a movie, and the antagonist of each scene was Draco Wynton. At this moment, he was infinitely worse than the Demon King. Yes, Diaboli was strong. Yes, she wanted to kill John and was responsible for so much of her suffering. But she had a hard time connecting her pain to the Demon King, and so that individual wasn't a target of hatred.

But Draco. He just kept going. And going. And going. Doing his absolute best to make her life the absolute worst. Living as if consequences weren't a thing.

Rage began to fill Prota's heart. She was getting sick of this. She was sick of getting stepped on, watching others be abused, played with like toys, unable to lift a finger against someone who was clearly beatable.

Destiny? The [Protagonist]. Kit? A Mystic. The headmaster? A dragon. John? Diaboli? Gods, potentially even stronger than Celeste herself.

But this was just a stupid, bratty kid. Why did she have to suffer at the hands of someone so much weaker than her? It just didn't make sense, and the illogicalness of the situation only served to fuel her anger.

Prota had never really experienced rage. She'd experienced sorrow. Trauma. Pain. They were close to rage, but she had never truly been upset the way she was now. The only emotion left in her was anger. There was nothing to mourn, nothing to despair over. There was only an enemy to defeat. And because she didn't understand this feeling, she also didn't know how to act.

So, with no thoughts left in her mind, her body took over and did what it'd been trained to do.

Fight.

"Hey, you can't- stop! What are you doing?!"

The idiot was asking for a timeout. A timeout? In a battle? That wasn't how things worked. If Prota had been allowed timeouts, her life would've been very different. But she didn't get those breaks. She didn't get the privilege of near absolute power. She and Draco were on opposite ends of the same spectrum; he was always looking down on people, stepping on them, and she was always looking up, seeing nothing but the soles of shoes.

"Cut it out!" Draco yelled, but he was so busy yelling that he didn't have the time to chant a spell.

As a result, he was permanently running, as if his words were spells in their own right, spells to stop Prota from attacking. But nothing short of death would make her stop.

"The exam. It's in a month. I mean, killing him then would be a pretty good way to get some stress off your back, right?"

John was right. This felt refreshing. Incredibly refreshing. Day after day, week after week, nothing but constant bullying, actions nobody could stop despite their absolute unfairness.

"Hey, this isn't fair! I wasn't ready!"

Fair? Since when was Draco about fair? He abused the rules. Got away w here nobody else could. All because of an authority that wasn't his.

This wasn't a fight anymore. It was a one-sided slaughter. Prota had yet to awaken any type of sadistic streak, but her anger blinded her to the point that she was missing a lot of her attacks. This only led to Draco suffering even more. Spell after spell hit him in the legs, the arms, the stomach, slowly causing the noble to fall to the ground until he was helpless, trembling and afraid. His eyes were bulging as Prota slowly moved toward him, and despite her small stature, she towered over him like a giant.

"W-wait! You can't do this to me! You filthy commoner, you're just-"

Prota didn't bother to listen to the rest of it. Sweat covered her face, and her mana reserves were basically empty. At this point, she was relying purely on her ability to sense souls, with her fatigue and rage rendering her effectively blind. It was a good thing Draco was such an idiot, because any experienced fighter would've killed her right there and then. Instead, she looked around the area only to notice something reflecting the sunlight. That was where Lilith had died.

Curious, she went over, squinting to barely see mana potions. The blue liquid inside sloshed around appealingly. Staring at the bottles for a second, she looked back to Draco, who was still moaning and crying on the ground, then back to the bottles. With the noble incapacitated, the rage that'd been blinding her was slowly starting to fade.

The exam. She still needed to do well. These… these could help. But she had to pay homage to the one who had given her the gifts.

She opened one bottle and took a sniff. It didn't smell like anything. Tilting her head, she took a sip, only to recoil in horror. It really did taste awful. Still, she had a job to do. Staring at the thing with a look of disgust, she quickly downed all the potion and promptly cast mana recovery, sighing as she felt her body slowly recover.

She drank the second potion, feeling her mana reserves fill back up, and then went to Draco. The magic that the twins had used. Even though they were gone, she could take her enemy out in the way they would have. Those giant spears. If she focused hard enough, she could—

[Don't.]

Her eyes shot wide open.

[I can tell what you're thinking. Don't copy their magic. A lot of people are watching you right now. If you do something like that. Well. You get the idea, right?]

Prota closed her eyes as she took a deep breath. She wanted to do this her way, but… he was right. It wouldn't do to get found out here. Still, she could retain some of the spirit of what she wanted to do. Forming a small spear of flame in one hand and a small spear of ice in the other, she held them high above Draco's head.

"No more."

She plunged both spells into the ground, a feeling of euphoria washing through her as she watched the noble disappear. She couldn't have known it, but there was a large amount of cheering in the stands and stadiums.

"...she's quite good, that one," Leora said quietly, but there was a smile on her face.

Nobody had been able to stand up to the son of the Wynton household. Their influence was too strong, even in other countries, their power too great. It was not just the authority of their name, but the connections they held, the people they knew. The children simply couldn't afford to make any enemy out of this one child. There was simply too much to lose.

But Prota had nothing left to lose. She'd never had anything to begin with besides John, and that man hated Draco as much as she did. He wouldn't just fall over and die to the noble. So she'd done something nobody else could.

Stand up to Draco Wynton.

"Huff… huff…"

She was panting, not from fatigue this time. It was simply recovering from the massive emotional outburst she'd just felt. It was different from the way she felt around John. This was a feeling of satisfaction, of power, but it was different from other times. Learning new skills and defeating powerful enemies felt good, but this was… different, somehow.

It wasn't the feeling of a satisfactory performance. It was the thrill of revenge.

Still, she couldn't afford to rest up just yet. There were still other students to deal with. There was still an exam to finish. Looking down, she saw five mana potions lying on the ground.

…five? Just how many had this guy collected?

It didn't matter. She picked one up, pouring its contents down her throat, casting mana recovery once more. She sighed in relief as she felt her body piecing itself back together, slowly but surely. Prota fell back, the soft grass underneath a cushiony mattress. She didn't close her eyes. She wasn't stupid enough for that, but the rest felt good.

She felt good. Really good.

There were other opponents to battle, though. In a few minutes, she sat up, shaking the grass that had gotten tangled in her hair and ran off.

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