Luo Wei kicked hard off a stump, flipped backward, and landed on the Saw-Beaked Vulture's back.

The ringing in her ears worsened; her vision blurred—but that was fine. She still had the will to live and the instinct to fight.

If she weren't afraid of exposing herself in the arena, she'd have already unfurled her wings, taken to the air, and used black magic to rot its guts to mush.

Or she could slap a teleportation rune on it—drop it on Demon Island—and let the necromancers beat it into paste.

Or grab Gladys's longsword and, with an Earth-Burrow Spell and a Lighten Body Spell from the advanced spell list, go sky-and-soil—punching holes in it until it looked like netting.

Failing that, she could still stack a few dozen low-level Growth Runes on it—accelerate everything and hurry it straight to death.

Annoying part: none of those were allowed here.

The more she thought, the angrier she got. She yanked the dagger from her boot and slashed.

After enough organ pain, numbness set in—the pain dulled; her strength spiked. The blade rasped its neck—like scraping sheet iron—sparks spat; the vulture hissed, twisting to snap with its serrated beak.

She slipped left, right—always into its blind spots. Enraged screeches ripped out; hackles along its nape stood rigid as it tried to shake off the stubborn little flea.

No matter how it whipped its neck or hammered its wings, Luo Wei clung like a plaster patch, dagger sawing lines across its neck.

Fine—no intermediate runes? She'd nest low-level ones. A method she'd learned dismantling academy magic arrays.

If arrays could pattern many small Magic Runes as base symbols, why couldn't she stack small ones together to emulate a larger structure? Academy arrays laid them flat; she would layer them.

Aside from summoning, most runes weren't inherently offensive—but that depended on how you used them, not on the glyph itself.

Even a simple Heating Rune—push two dozen layers—she refused to believe it wouldn't burn through a mere Saw-Beaked Vulture's neck.

Hard neck or not—is it harder than diamond? Diamond melts a bit above 3,500 degrees. How long could a beast last?

That white fireball earlier had been blisteringly hot; the problem was energy loss—spread too broad—so the damage looked small.

She stacked more than twenty Heating Runes and thrust mana into the lattice.

The vulture barreled through forest, deliberately smashing its back against rocks and trunks.

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

It worked. Her internal injuries were already severe; a slam into a trunk jolted a mouthful of blood out of her. Grip gone, she tumbled off.

But the vulture's death also arrived. The layered Heating Runes along its neck spun up; searing temperature climbed, then burned a hole straight through. Black scorched smoke curled from opened flesh.

Luo Wei twisted in the fall, dropped to one knee, dagger planting into soil.

Balanced again, she lifted her head toward the wailing vulture—blood-smeared face forming a victor's smile.

Go on—scream. Not for long. Its death countdown had already started.

Ten… nine…

"There! "

"Wands—now!"

"Lightning Whip!"

"Light of Healing!"

Uninvited guests burst in. Seeing the vulture howling at the sky, they formed two ranks.

Front three unleashed lightning spells; rear two cast Light of Healing, scrubbing the infrasound damage from their bodies.

Several Lightning Whips cracked in succession. Under Luo Wei's rigid stare, the vulture's charred head dropped to the ground.

"That was too easy. Is it really a large magic beast?"

"Strange—why didn't it dodge?"

"Must mean our mana's grown again—hahaha!"

Well-dressed boys strolled over chatting, stowed their wands, drew swords—ready to harvest the trophy: the saw beak.

Closer now, one boy blinked. "It was injured."

"Those people by the river, probably. They never hit a vital and let it run here."

"Yeah. Weak point's the neck. Just hitting wings does nothing."

Luo Wei wiped blood from her mouth, pulled the dagger out of the dirt, and pushed herself upright—unsteady.

"Someone's here!"

"Who?"

Circling the corpse, they finally saw her—bloodied, disheveled.

"She's a competitor from Siria Magic Academy."

Recognizing the dingy gray academy robe, they eased their grips.

"You look seriously hurt, miss—need healing?" one asked politely.

"No. Thanks." Luo Wei's face stayed blank. She glanced at them, tightened her grip, and walked—one step at a time—toward the river slope.

Just one second. One more second and the runes would've burned clean through its neck. They'd taken it a second early.

Outmatched in skill; outmatched in luck. She conceded.

"Captain!"

"Miss Luo Wei—are you alright?"

Jack and Hol rushed from the trees, eyes darting over her wounds.

"How'd you end up like this!" Jack blanched.

Hol flicked a look at the Divine College team behind her. "You okay?"

She shook her head, swallowed the metallic blood, voice hoarse. "Where are the other two?"

"Gladys still hasn't woken. Axina's with her," Hol said.

"Mm. Let's go back," Luo Wei answered calmly.

She didn't ask why they'd taken so long. Pointless now.

Hol couldn't hold it in. "Sorry."

Luo Wei turned her head slightly. "Sorry for what? Wins and losses come with battle. Missing the vulture's points isn't on you."

It was on their team. On her greedy plan.

Hol pressed his lips, lowered his voice. "No—it was me. I didn't give everything."

He hadn't. Axina hadn't. When Luo Wei drew the vulture off, a shameful, cowardly relief had washed through them.

On the way to find her he'd dissected it—why that disgraceful flicker?

Because he was a lich. He feared exposure.

He only hesitated a dozen seconds—but battle shifts in a blink. When he finally moved to chase, the Divine College team had arrived.

"I'm sorry," Hol said again, head down—self-disgust cresting.

"Hol, a simple 'sorry' can't make good a failing," Luo Wei said, eyes dark on the path ahead. "That kind of sorry is cheap. I don't want it."

Silence. Then: "Got it," Hol murmured.

Jack was lost—What happened? Why didn't Hol give his all? And how did he suddenly "get it"?

Curious gazes pricked their backs.

"Siria's Luo Wei—is she the 'Princess of the Misty Plains' my brother mentioned?"

Sylvester studied her elegant, slim silhouette. "Doesn't look that special."

"Sylvester—come look," Feiru called, examining the severed neck. "Isn't something off about this wound?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ patreon.com/BZDXG - Unlock a HUGE stash of advance chapters now! Dive deeper into the story ahead of everyone else!

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.