A phrase I couldn't ignore slipped from the man's mouth—something that made my blood run cold.

He wasn't just ranting. He was implying something.

That his newfound strength… wasn't his own.

Someone had given it to him.

I frowned behind my helmet, my mind piecing together fragments of what I'd seen so far.

The men with the red wolf tattoos had been too organized, too driven, to be dismissed as common criminals. Everything they'd done—from infiltrating the academy to attempting the kidnapping of the Imperial Princess—was far too bold, far too reckless, for a band of ordinary lunatics.

Twice now, they'd tried to capture her.

That wasn't desperation. That was purpose.

'So there's someone pulling the strings,' I thought grimly.

Either they harbored an unimaginable hatred toward the royal family… or—

'Someone's backing them.'

And honestly, the latter seemed far more likely.

But then… who could it be?

Someone who viewed the princess as a nuisance? A political rival who wanted her removed from the game?

Or worse—someone who didn't care about politics at all. Someone who simply wanted to watch the world burn.

My thoughts drifted back to the Sage's Bookmark. To that cryptic, chilling response I'd received when I'd asked about beings capable of ending the world.

[Several. Weak. Possibilities. Exist.]

That brief answer had unsettled me back then, but now… now it felt like a warning.

The words echoed again in my mind, a whisper of impending disaster.

And as if on cue, a coarse, mocking laugh shattered the silence.

"Kuahahaha!! You dare attack me, you pitiful insects!"

My gaze snapped toward the man.

The one who had fused with the Faerus essence, twisted into something barely human, was somehow still standing—his eyes bloodshot, his veins glowing faintly red.

He looked like a corpse too stubborn to die.

Despite being on the brink of collapse, arrogance burned in his expression, his laughter ringing through the ruined mansion.

He actually believed this power was his own.

'Unbelievable,' I thought bitterly. 'He's drunk on borrowed strength.'

A puppet who thought himself a god.

Watching him sneer down at us with that crazed grin, I couldn't decide what was worse—the delusion or the fact that someone wanted him like this.

'Whoever's behind this… they know exactly what they're doing.'

I exhaled slowly, tightening my grip around my sword. Lightning still crackled faintly along the blade, eager for another strike.

'Alright, then. Let's see if there's a way to deal a proper blow this time.'

Unlike water, which freely conducts electricity, ice is the complete opposite—an insulator.

For someone like me, who manipulates lightning, that makes ice magic a natural counter.

No matter how powerful my electricity is, if it hits a thick enough layer of ice, it'll just disperse harmlessly across the surface.

In the past, I would've simply smashed through with brute force—shatter the ice, break the caster, problem solved.

But this time was different.

The ice wasn't normal. It was dense, reinforced with mana—solid enough that even my earlier attack hadn't left a scratch.

I clenched my teeth. Tch.

If I kept hammering away recklessly, I'd just waste what little mana I had left.

That's when I heard it.

"Fire Arrow!"

A sharp voice cut through the chaos. Anna's voice.

Flames streaked across the room like fiery comets, striking the frozen wall again and again. Each hit created a hiss of steam, filling the air with a dense, misty fog.

The white haze curled upward, wrapping around us in soft tendrils.

And then—something clicked in my head.

'Steam…?'

Steam wasn't just mist. It was water. Tiny, suspended droplets—each one capable of carrying an electrical charge.

Unlike solid ice, which blocks electricity, steam could amplify it.

My lips curved slightly. "That might actually work."

I closed my eyes and focused.

The world went silent.

My breathing slowed, my senses sharpening until all I could feel was the pulse of magic thrumming inside me.

I drew in every last drop of mana left in my core, letting it flow through my body like molten metal. The static in the air thickened—sharp, wild, alive.

Crackle.

Every nerve in my body tingled as the power surged higher. My hair lifted, floating slightly from the charge.

The pressure built and built—like the sky itself was holding its breath.

Then—

Crack.

A faint sound, like something splitting under immense strain, echoed in my ears.

But I didn't stop. I couldn't stop.

Crackle… crackle…!

When I finally opened my eyes, the air around me was alive with light. Arcs of blue lightning danced wildly across my body, weaving through the mist like serpents made of pure energy.

The steam-filled room became my conductor.

A living storm waiting to be unleashed.

'Alright,' I thought, raising my hand as the air hummed violently around me.

'Let's end this in one strike.'

"Fire Burst!"

Anna's voice rang sharp and clear, the blast of flame lighting up the ruined hall like a small sun.

"Kuhaha! Is that all you've got, Princess?!"

The man's voice was loud, almost manic. His laughter echoed through the smoke-filled air, shrill and unhinged.

"Ugh…!" Anna grimaced, sweat beading on her brow as she poured more mana into her spells.

"I am special! Do you hear me?! Special!"

Still caught in his own delusions, he shouted as though trying to convince the world—or himself.

I watched in silence for a brief moment. His arrogance was almost pitiful.

But that laughter… didn't last long.

"Huh?"

His smirk faltered. His eyes flicked toward me—too late.

Crackle—!

The sound of compressed mana discharging filled the room. A stream of lightning, focused and deadly, shot forward—slipping cleanly into the thick cloud of steam Anna's fire had created.

And then—

BOOOOOOM!!!

A blinding flash erupted, followed by a thunderclap that shook the entire mansion. The explosion of light and sound drowned out everything else.

"AAAAARGH!!!"

The man's scream tore through the chaos as the high-voltage current surged through him. The black ice he'd conjured shattered into fragments, glittering in the air like shards of glass. The storm of light and frost created a dazzling, almost unreal scene.

Anna didn't hesitate.

"Fireball!"

Flames roared to life in her palms, bursting one after another in rapid succession.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Each fireball struck its mark, slamming into the man's body and the wreckage around him. The explosions painted the room in orange and gold, the temperature rising with every hit.

When the smoke finally began to clear, the room looked like the aftermath of a battlefield.

Walls scorched black. Furniture reduced to ash. The floor cracked and smoking.

And at the center of it all—

A body, charred and motionless, lay crumpled on the ground.

The faint smell of burnt ozone and ash hung thick in the air.

I exhaled quietly, lowering my hand as the last traces of lightning flickered out from my fingertips.

'…It's over.'

There was no way anyone could survive that.

"Thank you. Thanks to you—"

Anna's voice trembled slightly, her tone caught somewhere between relief and disbelief. She turned around, brushing a few strands of hair from her face, ready to express her gratitude properly.

But the moment her eyes swept across the room—

"…Mr. Louis?"

Silence answered her.

The space where I'd been standing just moments ago was empty. No trace, no sound—only the faint smell of ozone lingering in the air from the lightning strike.

Her words faltered, fading into the stillness of the ruined mansion.

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