Volume 2 Chapter 4: The Arrogant One Steps into the Trap

Anselm Hydra’s return to the Imperial Capital sent countless signals to countless eyes.

Many watched this young Hydra, who had lain low in his territory, wondering where he’d go and what he’d do after his Northlands journey.

The Empire was at a critical juncture of succession.

The Empress and current Hydra were both fading, while their successors—one fiercely ambitious, the other exceptionally talented—were awaited by the passengers on this great ship, hoping they’d sail to a golden new continent.

But before they assumed their roles, the chaotic factors in this period left the passengers uneasy, steering the millennium-old ship into a stormy, treacherous sea before reaching the new land.

Under the light of the Imperial Capital’s second sun, only a few saw the brewing tempest.

Thus, they placed immense importance on Anselm.

Compared to the haughty Grand Princess, this prodigy, renowned across the Empire for his courteous, gentle demeanor, inspired more goodwill.

In the eyes of these old foxes, the rule-abiding Anselm always ensured mutual wins with his partners.

Over time, everyone preferred working with him.

Cooperation was a profound art.

And our genius Miss Mingfuluo was clearly not adept at it.

“Ether purification of elements? That’s in any book, not worth discussing.”

“A revolutionary upgrade to firearms… who do you think you are, Great Sage Flamel?”

“I’ll say it again, don’t waste my time with such garbage questions.”

In Babel Tower’s seminar room, Mingfuluo on the podium looked at the stunned sorcerers below, paused, then tossed her notes onto the table, coldly dropping:

“A bunch of mediocrities.”

In her white coat, hands in pockets, she left the seminar room without giving the promising young sorcerers any face.

The white corridor buzzed with sorcerers coming and going, excitedly discussing regardless of time or place, some stopping to gesture animatedly.

This vibrant exchange filled every corner of Babel Tower.

Many sorcerers here were resource-starved, even destitute from their obsession with research, lacking the backing of ancient sects or noble sponsors.

Though extraordinaries, they were no different from struggling commoners in this field.

They could live well on their skills, but those with such thoughts wouldn’t come to Babel Tower or pass its admission.

Here, only seekers of truth gathered.

Yet… in this fervent pursuit, Mingfuluo remained an outsider.

Whenever she passed or approached, discussions quieted or stopped.

Most looked at this young, renowned sorceress—some with envy, some with discontent, some with hope, some with complex emotions.

“…Miss Zege,” someone whispered from a discussing group, “shouldn’t she be leading a seminar now?”

“She…”

An older sorcerer shrugged: “Probably thought the topics too simple, not worth discussing, dropped a ‘how boring’ or ‘bunch of mediocrities,’ and walked out.”

“Her personality’s as bad as the rumors…”

“Haha, geniuses have the right to be willful. Miss Zege never disappoints, does she?”

“Speaking of disappointment… Does anyone know how she improved the second-generation floating cannon? I’m still shocked by that design, born from puppets and firearms, with such intricate ether circuits. The ether flow she designed is practically art…”

The faint murmurs about Mingfuluo drowned in a new wave of heated discussion, a daily occurrence at Babel Tower.

Mingfuluo neither knew nor cared.

Having seen true greatness, most “truths” revered by the world seemed dull to her.

She quickened her pace to the teleportation channel reserved for Babel Tower’s senior scholars, stepping into the array’s light after authentication, instantly arriving at the office floor.

Unlike the lavish elegance of traditional sorcerers, Babel Tower’s decor was starkly minimal, even in offices meant to exude grandeur—just white walls, floors, and ceilings.

The only decoration was framed documents and papers on the walls.

Mingfuluo, expressionless, walked to the room at the end of the office floor, pushing the door open without knocking.

“So, your concern is unfounded…”

In the office, a plainly dressed man with a strong scholarly air stood before a desk, speaking to someone seated, but Mingfuluo’s intrusion interrupted him.

He and the person in the chair turned to look at Mingfuluo at the door.

“…Zege,” the man said helplessly, “I’ve told you many times, at least knock first.”

“Rules that waste time don’t need to be followed.”

Mingfuluo glanced at the man, then shifted her gaze to the Grand Princess, lounging in the chair, sizing her up with a faint smile.

“Your Highness,” she adjusted her glasses, a rare touch of courtesy, “I didn’t expect you to visit Babel Tower.”

“No pressing matters recently, so I came to check on Hendrik’s progress.”

Ivora casually blew on her nails: “We were just talking about you—the second-generation floating cannon’s production is much slower than I expected.”

Mingfuluo’s brows furrowed slightly: “Production is handled by the Alchemical Association. What’s it to us?”

“But they say the design itself has flaws preventing mass production.”

The woman’s eyes narrowed, her red lashes sparking as the office temperature rose sharply.

“Impossible,” Mingfuluo replied without hesitation, “I planned the mass-production Hummingbird’s improvements before building the current standalone units. There are no flaws. It’s just their excuse for delays.”

“Then that’s your problem to consider.”

Ivora stood, her flame-colored dress burning with a blinding intensity, exuding the authority and coldness of a superior.

“Without me, Babel Tower would’ve collapsed a thousand times. They’re delaying? Find the reason and make them produce. Or do you expect me to solve it for you?”

“I want to see problems solved, not excuses.”

Babel Tower’s second director, Hendrik Lundell, immediately responded: “You’re right, Your Highness. We’ll resolve this quickly, without troubling you.”

“Quickly?”

The Grand Princess repeated Hendrik’s words.

“…I mean, seven days. We’ll solve the Hummingbird production issue within seven days.”

“Good,” the woman nodded with satisfaction, “Seven days from now, Babel Tower’s deserved rewards will arrive.”

As Ivora’s form began to dissolve into flames, Mingfuluo suddenly spoke:

“Your Highness, I have a request.”

“…Oh?”

Ivora, her dress’s hem already aflame, turned with interest: “A request? That’s rare from you. Let’s hear it.”

“The Ether Academy invited Hydra… I mean the young one, to visit. You must know this.”

“What’s the issue?”

Ivora chuckled: “In traditional magic, you’re far behind the Ether Academy. Anselm may be Flamel’s son, but he has no interest in alchemy. Is it strange for him to visit them?”

“…”

When Ivora said “he has no interest in alchemy,” Mingfuluo’s eye twitched slightly.

“…You could say,” she replied expressionlessly, avoiding a direct answer, “I won’t let the Ether Academy have their way.”

Hendrik, beside her, covered his forehead helplessly, while Ivora, after a brief pause, burst into delighted laughter:

“Hahaha, good, that’s a fine reason! I don’t like those old bugs either, especially that little rat I despise who’s cozy with them.”

“Approved.”

The Grand Princess raised her chin arrogantly: “I’ll give you a reason to intervene. In return… I won’t tolerate failure.”

Mingfuluo calmly adjusted her glasses: “That possibility doesn’t exist, Your Highness.”

“Heh, your confidence is as irritating as ever, Mingfuluo.”

Ivora scrutinized her for a long moment before suddenly revealing a supremely contemptuous smile:

“Speaking of which, do you really think your meddling in tomorrow’s visit to the Ether Academy is merely because you want to make things difficult for them?”

Looking at the silent blue-haired woman, the lofty Grand Princess sneered:

“Don’t think I don’t know what’s on your mind. Three years ago, Anselm was probably just bored and humoring you. You didn’t actually take that time seriously, did you?”

“Mingfuluo Zege, know your place.”

With that disdainful remark, Ivora’s figure transformed into a burst of flames and vanished into the air.

It wasn’t until three or four seconds after the decisive Grand Princess had left that Dean Hendrik let out a sigh:

“Mingfuluo, what exactly are you planning to do this time?”

“…I told you.”

As if only now coming back to her senses, Mingfuluo said in a low voice, “I won’t let the Ether Academy have it easy.”

“We don’t have the resources to confront them head-on right now.”

“So I borrowed the momentum of that arrogant Grand Princess.”

The woman spoke expressionlessly, “Her personality may be as insufferable as mine, but her ability to act is equally impeccable. The reasons she provides will be sufficient. All I need to do is show up and make the Ether Academy lose face.”

Her tone carried no fluctuation, as if challenging this centuries-old academic behemoth was a trivial matter.

Hendrik rubbed his temples, “I know you never act without preparation… Fine, who am I to argue when you’re one of our guiding forces?”

Smiling, he looked at Mingfuluo.

As the leader of an organization, he wasn’t angry at her audacious behavior.

Instead of reprimanding her madness, he encouraged her, “If you need any materials or assistance, just let us know. Who knows, this might be an opportunity.”

Mingfuluo gave her leader a look reserved for idiots, “It starts tomorrow. What help could you possibly provide in one day? Keeping me from wasting time on mediocrities would be more useful.”

“Here we go again,” Hendrik chuckled, “Then who is it that always tosses meticulously prepared analyses, dozens or even hundreds of pages long, onto the lectern for others to read themselves? Teaching a class wouldn’t hurt, Mingfuluo.”

“Because those who can understand those materials aren’t mediocrities.”

Mingfuluo’s tone remained flat.

She glanced at Hendrik, “Knowledge and truth only reveal themselves to the talented.

You should raise Babel Tower’s admission standards, Hendrik.”

With that, she turned and left the office, her purple eyes glinting with cold, metallic light behind her glasses.

In that near-data-like flicker, there was no room for extraneous emotions.

***

These past few days, Anselm had been attending various engagements, conversing amiably with nobles and extraordinaries, slowly activating his vast network in the imperial capital.

For various reasons, he hadn’t brought Hitana along, leaving our wolf beast feeling neglected for a full two days.

Perhaps in the future, Hitana Lansmarlos would grow into a formidable, mature, and confident warrior.

But for now, she was still more akin to a young girl in the throes of first love.

Having recently achieved a spiritual and physical connection with Anselm, and living a comfortable life without worries, it was, frankly, a bit challenging for her to grow under such circumstances.

Thus, when Anselm was set to visit the Ether Academy, Hitana refused to be left behind again.

Fortunately, Anselm had intended to bring her along this time anyway.

“Thank you for your assistance, Lord Solen… Hm? My father? Oh, he should be arriving in a few days. Yes, alright, I’ll pass on the message.”

After concluding a call with some important figure, Anselm looked at Hitana, who was clinging to his side, and chuckled, “What, afraid I’ll run off and leave you behind?”

The girl pouted, “You can’t leave me outside again.”

There had been several occasions when she followed Anselm out, only to be ordered to wait outside, which made her quite unhappy.

“Those old foxes aren’t something you can handle, Hitana,” Anselm said, ruffling her hair. “You wouldn’t be interested in what we discuss.”

Anselm had explained this to Hitana multiple times, but whenever she felt a little down about it, he patiently repeated himself without complaint.

As for Hitana, she wasn’t the type to make unreasonable demands or revert to old habits.

It was just… the slight clinginess a girl feels toward someone she likes—sometimes it seems bothersome, but when experienced, it carries a certain charm.

—Of course, only if it doesn’t become excessively repetitive.

“Hm… Ahem!”

Hitana cleared her throat, choosing not to cling to Anselm’s arm.

Instead, she puffed out her chest slightly, “Anyway, I definitely won’t embarrass you this time. No matter what happens, I’ll keep my emotions in check!”

The first time Anselm took her out, she had been so awestruck by the imperial capital’s architecture that she was speechless, constantly feeling like people were looking at her as if she were a country bumpkin.

Anselm gave her a subtly amused look for a moment before smiling, “You don’t need to suppress your emotions too much. As I said, here, you don’t need to hold back.”

The girl hummed happily but said, “Alright, it almost feels like you’re expecting me to cause a scene… Let’s go, let’s go!”

She pushed open the carriage door and stepped out first.

Then she nearly tripped, almost tumbling to the ground.

Shocked, the girl stared at the scene before her.

If Anselm hadn’t gently supported her as she stepped out of the carriage, she might have stood there, frozen, for who knows how long.

What unfolded before this barbaric warrior, who couldn’t even cast a ripple, was a magnificent sight only sorcerers could create:

The tower named Yggdrasil, the second tallest structure in the entire imperial capital, surpassed only by the imperial palace.

Surrounding this main tower floated seven additional sub-towers of considerable size.

With this massive complex as its foundation, Hitana saw each level encircled by peculiar rings.

The first level was composed of an immensely concentrated ether vortex; the second level consisted of air currents, rocks, flames, and water; the third level was made of a pale green substance Hitana couldn’t comprehend but felt brimming with intense vitality…

At first, Hitana didn’t understand what these rings were, only finding them awe-inspiring.

But as she came to her senses, she suddenly realized…

These were rings of different elements!

These elemental rings stacked endlessly upward, proclaiming the Ether Academy’s profound foundation as a sorcerer’s sanctuary in the simplest, purest way.

Each element’s display signified the Ether Academy’s vast knowledge, resources, and talent reserves in that domain and its extensions.

Amid the endless shimmer of magical radiance, it was as if truth itself burst forth.

Looking higher, Hitana saw, around these elemental rings, miniature mountain ranges, a deep blue micro-ocean, and another sky that seemed to replicate the boundless, infinite concept.

Sorcerers reshaped the earth with knowledge, explored the seas with ambition, and conquered the skies with truth!

At the very top, where the elemental rings vanished, a pitch-black, heavy cloud seemed to drip with viscous liquid.

Hitana had no idea why these people made such a grand display only to crown it with something so ominous.

“Lord Anselm Hydra.”

When Hitana snapped back to reality, Anselm was already standing in front of her.

Further ahead, a young man dressed in an elegant light black robe, with a holy cyan longsword at his waist and a dark gold staff in hand, bowed slightly to Anselm:

“Conrad Sainthue, on behalf of the Ether Academy and every seeker of truth, welcomes your arrival.”

“Sainthue…” Anselm raised an eyebrow slightly, “If I recall correctly, the Grand Duke Sainthue should still be in his prime.”

The youthful man smiled, “Only the head of the house may take the family name as their surname. It’s a customary rule, not a written one.”

Every noble house’s current head would use the family name as their surname, symbolizing that they carried the family’s history and glory as their life.

However, while not explicitly mandated, this young man named Conrad was undeniably bold.

After all, across the entire Empire, perhaps only the Hydra and the Empress disregarded this custom entirely.

“Mr. Conrad, you are quite interesting.”

Anselm chuckled lightly, “It seems this visit won’t be dull.”

“Haha, it wouldn’t be dull no matter who guided you.”

Conrad stepped aside, gesturing confidently to Anselm, “Because this is the sanctuary of truth-seekers.”

Having regained her composure, Hitana stood dutifully by Anselm’s side, eyes forward, suppressing the urge to look around and avoid embarrassing him again.

But just as she steadied herself to play the part of a mature, composed Contract Head, the next moment, a voice that made her eyelids twitch sounded behind her.

“Sanctuary?”

A cold, indifferent voice rang out behind Anselm and Hitana.

“You mean the place that controls the flow of books, builds academic barriers, restricts resource distribution, monopolizes the knowledge sorcerers hold dearer than life, and plunges the entire world into stagnant, dead water?”

A pristine white coat, blue-gray hair tied in a high ponytail, and gray-white glasses glinting coldly on the bridge of her nose.

Only one person bore these distinctive traits: the troublesome genius from Babel Tower, Mingfuluo Zege.

Wearing gray high heels that made her height comparable to Hitana’s, Mingfuluo slightly raised her chin, looking down at Conrad Sainthue with a condescending gaze.

“You dare call yourselves truth-seekers?”

“…Miss Zege.”

Conrad said with a warm smile, “May I interpret your words as a challenge issued on behalf of Babel Tower to the Ether Academy?”

“Hmph, this time, I’m not representing Babel Tower.”

She pulled a crimson envelope from her pocket and flicked it toward Conrad.

Blood-red flames, symbolizing the Flame-Feasting Royalty, blazed fiercely, outlining the image of the decisive and prideful Grand Princess.

Conrad’s expression shifted slightly, and he immediately bowed his head, dropping to one knee in salute.

Hitana, utterly confused, wondered if she should at least nod in acknowledgment, but Anselm gently lifted her chin, shaking his head with a soft smile.

“This is the pass granted to me by Her Highness, the Grand Princess.”

Mingfuluo said coldly, as eight floating cannons emerged from beneath her wide white coat, their design distinctly different from those used in her battle with Hitana:

“In her name, I will engage in… exchange and sparring with the geniuses and truth-seekers of the Ether Academy.”

Caught in the middle, Hitana glanced left and right, completely lost as to what was happening.

But when she tilted her head and saw that all-too-familiar smile on Anselm’s face, realization hit her instantly.

That bad guy Anselm, he’s already started, hasn’t he?

Though she called him a bad guy in her mind, Hitana was so excited she could barely stop herself from hugging him and spinning around.

The thought of this cold-faced nuisance getting thoroughly trounced by Anselm filled the girl with uncontainable glee.

Mingfuluo’s gaze swept over the three before her.

Conrad’s expression grew serious, likely already contacting the Ether Academy’s elders in secret; Hydra smiled without speaking… He’d been like this since his return.

Three years ago, she could occasionally guess his thoughts, but now, she couldn’t fathom what Anselm was thinking at all.

As for that inexplicably giggling, brainless, devolved creature… she could just be ignored.

“Since you come on behalf of Her Highness.”

Conrad soon regained his composed smile, “Then you, too, are a guest, Miss Mingfuluo.”

“No guest would beat their host senseless.”

Mingfuluo strode forward, her expression unchanged, “Just keep treating me as an enemy, like you’ve done with the eighty-six assassination attempts you’ve plotted against me until yesterday.”

Hitana was stunned.

When talking to Mingfuluo, she had only felt anger, but now, as a bystander, she deeply sensed Mingfuluo’s abrasiveness… Wasn’t this even worse than her own way of speaking?!

No, it wasn’t that she didn’t know how to speak—it seemed intentional.

That made it even more infuriating!

Hitana, who had never realized how irritating she herself could be, now found herself in deep thought watching Mingfuluo’s performance.

Anselm… he didn’t have to put up with a lot from me back then, did he?

“Hitana?” Anselm’s voice pulled the overthinking girl back to reality, “Let’s go. It’s time to start the visit.”

“…Hm? Oh! Right, the visit… We’re here to visit…”

Snapping back, Hitana stuck close to Anselm’s side, unable to resist glancing at Mingfuluo, who walked ahead as if she were the guide, then at Conrad, who had managed to maintain some semblance of dignity from start to finish.

“Anselm,” the girl whispered in his ear, “Why did that nutcase suddenly show up to pick a fight, and how did she get the support of that Grand Princess?”

“Something like that…” Anselm said with a leisurely chuckle, “Who knows?”

He was merely an invited guest to the Ether Academy, not someone who had actively sought them out, so their affairs had nothing to do with him.

Mingfuluo had clearly secured Ivora as her backer to stir up trouble.

Everyone knew of the deep grudge between this genius and the Ether Academy, so her coming to throw down the gauntlet was only natural—and still had nothing to do with Anselm.

But why now, of all times?

Well, it was just a coincidence, wasn’t it?

Or could it be that Anselm Hydra, freshly returned to the imperial capital, had orchestrated it all?

—At least, that’s how it appeared to the outside world.

“The first level of Yggdrasil is the foundation of the entire sorcerer tower.”

As Conrad led the way for Anselm, he said with a warm smile, “And as its foundation, this level’s core element could only be ether, nothing else.”

Upon entering the first level of the sorcerer tower named Yggdrasil, Anselm and Hitana stepped into a spacious hall with six branching paths.

The hall was empty, likely prepared in advance for Anselm’s visit.

The next-generation Grand Duke Sainthue continued his orderly explanation, “From here, each direction—”

“Wasting time.”

Mingfuluo interrupted Conrad, “As expected, you’d squander nearly two-thirds of the time on these meaningless displays. Your true intent is to show off your ‘strength’ to Hydra to win his favor, yet you waste every second that could be spent on research just to flaunt your so-called elegance and refinement.”

“You don’t think,” she said, staring expressionlessly at Conrad, whose smile was fading, “that Hydra would actually care about this nonsense, do you?”

“Actually.”

Anselm shrugged, “I’m quite interested.”

“…” Mingfuluo’s already icy, expressionless face seemed to grow even colder at Anselm’s words and the stance they implied.

“Mr. Conrad, let’s continue. Until we reach the sparring part, you don’t need to mind Miss Mingfuluo’s words, do you?”

To top it off, Anselm said this to Conrad with a smile, making Mingfuluo—who was consistently ignored by him—feel a chill in her eyes that was almost sharp enough to become a tangible blade.

Hydra!

The floating cannons orbiting Mingfuluo trembled left and right due to her unstable emotions, their muzzles faintly glowing with condensed laser.

Yet Mingfuluo quickly regained control and from an outsider’s perspective, there was barely any sign of her emotions spiraling out of control.

“…No, Lord Anselm.”

Conrad bowed to Anselm, “Thank you for your support and leniency, but I believe… allowing Miss Zege to continue her provocations would be an insult to the Ether Academy’s dignity.”

“Might I request your permission to engage in a brief spar with Miss Mingfuluo now?”

“You’ve said as much, so of course I have no reason to refuse.”

As the anticipated scene finally arrived, the corners of Anselm’s mouth curved upward slightly, “In fact…”

The innocent Hydra, merely a spectator, flashed a radiant smile:

“I’m rather looking forward to seeing what sparks will fly from your clash.”

Conrad placed his scepter at his waist, smiling confidently, “I certainly won’t disappoint you.”

He turned to Mingfuluo, saying, “Since the first level regards ether as its foundation, shall we make our spar about the manipulation of ether?”

“I have no issue with that.”

Mingfuluo slipped her hands into the pockets of her white coat, “The specific challenge—who decides, you or me?”

“Well, how about…”

The kind-hearted Hydra revealed a warm, earnest smile:

“Let me, a sufficiently impartial third party, set the challenge. How does that sound?”

Conrad was momentarily taken aback but quickly nodded, “If it’s Lord Anselm setting the challenge, it will undoubtedly be absolutely fair.”

Mingfuluo remained silent for a moment before slowly nodding, as she didn’t believe Anselm had fallen so low as to cheat for these vulgar people.

“Then let’s settle it with the most basic spell, the Sorcerer’s Hand.”

Anselm said in a light, cheerful tone, “Whichever of you can, within thirty seconds, use the Sorcerer’s Hand to make Hitana move one step will be the winner.”

“…” ×3

Conrad fell silent, Mingfuluo fell silent, and Hitana, who had been admiring the hall’s ornate murals, turned her head in confusion.

“This…” Conrad hesitated for a moment before saying tactfully, “Lord Anselm, isn’t this challenge a bit… unfair to Miss Lansmarlos?”

Mingfuluo, blunt as ever, left one at a loss for words, “Do you think neither of us can even make that thing move a single step? Are you serious, Hydra?”

“I think this challenge is very straightforward and simple, requiring no extra props, and the time is short enough.”

Anselm smiled, patting Hitana’s shoulder, “Isn’t that perfect? Don’t you agree, Hitana?”

“Uh… huh? Oh! Right! Anselm’s right!”

Though she didn’t know why this involved her, if Anselm said it, it must be right!

“Alright then, Hitana, go stand between them.”

The young Hydra gently nudged the girl, chuckling softly, “Stand firm now, don’t make a fool of yourself.”

“Uh, can I ask what this Sorcerer’s Hand thing is?” Hitana scratched her head.

“In simple terms, it’s using ether to create an invisible ‘hand’ to interact with physical objects.”

“Oh… so it’s just a hand, except you can’t see it?”

Hitana nodded knowingly, “That’s all? Whatever then.”

She swaggered to the space between Conrad and Mingfuluo, arms crossed, glancing left and right.

“Who’s going first?” The girl stretched her neck, looking indifferent.

“Conrad, you start,” Anselm decided for them.

Conrad nodded slightly, clasping his hands behind his back, standing still.

“…”

Hitana turned her head, utterly bewildered.

Sensing her gaze, Conrad’s expression shifted slightly.

He began to extend his hand, making a dragging motion toward Hitana, but she remained confused.

“Wait…”

After three or four seconds, the girl suddenly realized, “You’ve already started?!”

“What the heck, I thought you were just standing there daydreaming.”

She stretched her limbs, seemingly sensing a faint pulling force on her body—or perhaps not—and said impatiently, “Come on, put some effort into it. Isn’t it supposed to be a hand? Even a weak hand should at least make me feel something pushing me.”

The distinguished talent of the Ether Academy gritted his teeth slightly, pulling out the scepter from his waist.

If anyone knew he needed a casting medium for a Sorcerer’s Hand, he’d be mocked for ages.

Yet even so, for the remainder of the time, despite straining so hard that the veins on his hands bulged, the girl standing there merely yawned.

“Lame.”

She pouted, turning to Mingfuluo, “Hey, sour-face, your turn.”

“…”

Mingfuluo didn’t speak, but her eyes revealed that, while she didn’t think Hitana could remain completely unmoved under her Sorcerer’s Hand, she definitely wasn’t underestimating her like Conrad had.

The crude data models she’d built told her one thing.

This creature… this beast might be a monster far beyond her imagination.

She gripped her casting medium, channeling the Sorcerer’s Hand to try to move Hitana’s body, only for the ether flow within her to grind to a halt.

The feedback from the Sorcerer’s Hand indicated that this wasn’t about weight—it was like trying to push a mountain rising from the earth itself!

“Hey… you’re no better than him.”

Hitana glanced boredly at Anselm, “Anselm, how many seconds left? I feel like this is pointless.”

“No way, we have to fill the full thirty seconds, or it wouldn’t be fair to Mingfuluo.”

“Fill it out, huh…”

As she muttered, the terrifying perception of the Head of Wind let Hitana vaguely sense something.

A weakness…

The monster bearing the power of two Contract Heads murmured inwardly.

It’s like… the weakness of ether, the weakness of the spell?

What would happen if she broke it?

Bored out of her mind, Hitana, who already deeply disliked Mingfuluo, suddenly got a mischievous idea.

She clenched her fist slightly, silently sensing the invisible force pushing or pulling at her.

As that weakness drew closer… she abruptly swung a punch without warning.

To others, it looked like Hitana had inexplicably punched the air, but the other three present sensed that in that instant, Mingfuluo’s Sorcerer’s Hand…

Was shattered by Hitana’s single punch.

Not just Mingfuluo, even Conrad was stunned.

How could a physical strike break a spell?

Wasn’t that a physical blow?

Did she coat it with an ether membrane in that instant, or was it some other technique…

As the two were thrown into mental disarray, Hitana scratched her head and walked back to Anselm’s side, somewhat sheepishly saying, “Anselm, uh… did I mess things up again by accident?”

“Mess up? Hmm… not exactly.”

Anselm chuckled, “This challenge tested ether control. While Conrad’s Sorcerer’s Hand failed to move Hitana, at least it didn’t let her sense any flaws. But Mingfuluo…”

The impartial Hydra, completely uninvolved, shrugged slightly, “Mingfuluo clearly made a mistake in her ether manipulation, allowing Hitana to shatter her Sorcerer’s Hand. So, without a doubt… Conrad wins this round.”

The young Mr. Conrad let out a slight breath, looking at Hitana leaning against Anselm with a hint of awe, murmuring, “Thank you for your recognition, Lord Anselm.”

“…”

The crisp sound of heels clicking against the floor suddenly echoed in the hall.

Mingfuluo walked past Anselm, Hitana, and Conrad without expression, not turning her head or looking at anyone:

“Continue.”

With those two cold words, she strode forward.

Anselm watched the tall figure cloaked in her white coat, the corners of his mouth curving slightly.

Only he, the one who knew Mingfuluo best in the world, heard the profound anger hidden in those simple words.

The future sage miss, just as he had hoped, was step by step falling into an inescapable quagmire.

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