Hindel's body hit the ground with a dull thud, dust curling around him as he tried to push himself up on trembling arms.
Above him, Stella stood like a crimson wraith, her long red hair flowing with the faint wind her telekinesis stirred.
Her gaze was coldand imperious, as if she were looking down not at an opponent, but at something already dead.
The sheer pressure radiating from her was suffocating. Invisible hands seemed to crush the air itself, pinning Hindel where he knelt.
'So this is the 'Red-Haired Witch' huh', he thought bitterly.
A student? No… a monster.
"Why did you hurt my brother?" Stella's voice was deceptively calm, but each syllable carried a quiet menace that silenced the world around her. "How dare you lay a hand on him?"
Hindel coughed, crimson splattering the dirt. His body ached, but his pride refused to kneel.
"Why?" He raised his eyes, golden hair sticking to his bloodied face. "Look around you!"
He gestured weakly to the devastation—the bodies, the smoke, the remains of what was once a battleground.
"Destruction, death… even your own allies lie in pieces because of him. Your brother did this!"
Stella's expression barely shifted. Her head tilted slightly, her crimson eyes narrowing with faint disinterest.
"So?" she said softly. "Do I look like I care about that? They're peasants. Their lives mean nothing to me."
Hindel's jaw clenched. Disbelief flashed in his eyes, followed by disgust. "You… you're just as twisted as he is. I guess it's true what they say about your kind."
Her lips curled into a cold smile. "Stand up, Hindel," she said, releasing the invisible weight crushing him.
"Face me. I'll show you why we of the ruling families call your kind lessers. Let me show you the gap between us."
Hindel spat blood, his runes igniting in desperate defiance. Golden light coursed across his arms and weapon.
"You think you're superior?" he snarled. "Fine. Let's see how far that arrogance of yours takes you."
He launched forward, spear blazing with condensed light mana, slashing down in a brilliant arc. Stella didn't move at first—then she flicked her wrist.
The ground trembled. Dozens of discarded weapons—swords, spears, shattered blades—rose from the rubble, orbiting her in a spiral of telekinetic energy. They shot forward like a metallic storm.
Hindel barely dodged the first volley. Sparks scattered as his spear deflected two swords, but three more came from behind.
He rolled, spun, and blocked again, his light barriers forming and shattering in the same breath.
Stella didn't stop. Every parried weapon was instantly replaced by another.
Rubble floated into the air and sharpened to deadly fragments; fallen corpses were hurled like lifeless puppets.
Weaving through it all, he leapt in, thrusting his spear straight at her throat.
But, the tip met empty air as she sidestepped faster than he could follow.
Her hand snapped out, catching his wrist. The next instant, she twisted. Bone cracked audibly.
Hindel gasped, but she didn't let go. She used his own momentum, dragging him forward before driving her knee into his ribs.
The impact sent him stumbling back, his breath leaving him in a broken cough.
"You fight with conviction," Stella said, her voice low and amused, "but conviction doesn't make you stronger."
"Arcus Lucis!"
Hindel roared and slashed upward, his spear forming a crescent of pure white energy. Stella raised her arm; the ground rippled.
A wall of levitating debris intercepted the blast, disintegrating in the process.
Through the haze, she dashed forward and punched—a brutal, precise strike that cracked against his jaw.
He reeled, barely managing to block her next blow with his weapon's shaft.
They exchanged a flurry of strikes. Spear met sword—then staff, then dagger—each time a new weapon formed in Stella's telekinetic orbit and shot into her waiting hands as she fought.
Her movements were terrifyingly fluid; each swing of her arm seemed to bend the air around her.
Hindel fought desperately to keep up, parrying with both weapon and magic, light flaring from every impact.
He ducked under a sweeping blade, countered with a thrust toward her abdomen—but she vanished, so fast it was almost like she teleported, then reappeared a few feet behind him in a blur.
Before he could turn, she struck the back of his knee with a floating hammer, sending him collapsing onto one leg.
Her palm glowed crimson; she slammed it into his back, sending a telekinetic shockwave that cratered the ground beneath him.
In the distance, River and Maria arrived—just in time to witness the storm.
Maria's breath caught as she spotted Lucas lying motionless, a metal rod jutting from his stomach.
She ran to him, panic twisting her expression, while River's black eyes locked on the duel ahead.
Nathan descended from the smoke, carrying Natasha in his arms. He set her gently on the ground, his face carved in rage.
River turned toward him, but one look into his eyes was enough—his silence said more than words could.
Meanwhile, the battle raged.
"Is this all you've got, Hindel?" Stella asked mockingly, her voice echoing through the wreckage.
"You were the leader of this little expedition, weren't you? How disappointing."
Hindel staggered to his feet, blood dripping down his chin. His vision blurred, but his pride kept him upright.
"You'll… pay for this," he rasped. "You and your damned arrogance."
He raised his spear one final time, runes across his body burning brighter than ever.
With a guttural roar, he conjured a colossal spear of light mana—ten times larger than before—and hurled it straight at her.
The weapon cut through the air like a meteor, trailing searing light. Stella raised a single hand.
The air rippled—and the spear stopped mid-flight, frozen inches from her face.
She tilted her head, studying it with mild curiosity before closing her fist. The weapon imploded into glowing dust.
"Pathetic," she said softly. "As I expected, you're nothing but a lesser. And now, you'll die exactly like one. As pathetically as possible."
As she said so, she extended her arm. The ground split as telekinetic force surged forward, wrapping around Hindel's body. He tried to resist, summoning barrier after barrier, but they shattered instantly. His body lifted from the ground, suspended helplessly in midair.
"St—Stop—!" he choked, struggling against invisible chains. His limbs trembled as the pressure intensified.
Stella's expression didn't change. "You should've stayed down."
The air filled with a sickening crack as she began to twist. One arm bent unnaturally, then the other.
Bones snapped, as his screams cut through the silence. She watched him writhe, her crimson eyes reflecting no emotion—only quiet fascination.
"You… monsters!" Hindel spat, his voice raw. "You think you've won? Enjoy this victory while you can… soon, Fantasia will—"
The words ended in a wet snap.
With a flick of her hand, Stella ripped his head from his shoulders. His spine trailed behind it for a heartbeat before she clenched her fist.
Flesh and bone burst apart in midair, reduced to a crimson mist that painted the dirt.
The battlefield went still. Only the crackle of distant flames remained.
Stella exhaled softly, brushing a strand of red hair from her face. Behind her, Theodore stepped from the smoke, his expression one of smug amusement.
"Well," he said, his voice light, "that was entertaining." His eyes flicked to the still-drifting ashes. "Shall we finish cleaning up, dear sister?"
Stella didn't respond. Her gaze shifted to the group in the distance—Maria kneeling over Lucas, River standing tense with her staff ready, Nathan frozen, his fury burning brighter than ever.
Her crimson eyes met Nathan's for a long, silent moment. The air between them seemed to tighten—rage and contempt colliding in the quiet aftermath.
Then Stella turned away, as if none of them mattered. The invisible weight of her power faded, leaving behind only ruin and silence.
And for the first time, Nathan realized what true power—and cruelty—looked like.