Thirty years ago, in a tower buried deep within the heart of the Sea of Ancients, there stood a lonely figure upon the tallest peak of its ascent.
A woman with long, billowing white hair stirred a fresh pot of pumpkin stew, the luscious greenery that covered the room providing an optimal hotbed for the plant.
Moving her hands around to flip through pages in her cookbook, her floating utensils continued their job, whether that be stirring, chopping, or even mashing.
There was much to be done, and her priorities were scrambled in the brief timeframe she was given to deliver the meal.
Flipping the broccoli she had been frying on the stovetop, she heard a shrill sound reverberate through her tower.
"Coming!"
Taking a step backward, she snapped her fingers in a quick motion, removing all mana from her hovering possessions.
The spoon fell into the pot, the cutting of the carrots ceased with the blade lodging itself in the wooden cutting board, and the chicken stiffened up from a lack of mashing.
She was out of time, and her guest was only minutes away from entering the room to see the mess of a kitchen she had produced.
Closing her eyes while walking towards the door, she uttered a spell under her breath in a language unique to her own magecraft.
While closely resembling her native Draconic tongue, the Nordic-based linguistics she had been taught contributed far more towards the creation of her spellforms.
『Hearthspell of the Ever-Busy Apron』
Using her own forms of magic with her overwhelming supply of mana, the woman was able to create completely unique chants that were vastly different from normal.
And at her words that echoed through the kitchen like a song, the instruments that she had let fall suddenly vibrated strongly.
Their forms flickered before vanishing into nothingness and reforming into something else in the very center of the room.
Plip!
A bird now floated within the room, its feathers ruffled and its eyes gazing around at the messy space with disdain.
"Prodo. We have guests, please tidy up and fix dinner."
As she was speaking, she tugged boots on her bare feet, careful not to irritate the blister that blemished her pale, slightly pinkish skin.
The bird flared its wings for a moment before diving around the kitchen like a lunatic, its beak picking up various items like seasonings, vegetables, and even spoons.
With those objects, it began to complete the pumpkin stew that had been wronged by the woman, its magically conjured nature making it the perfect candidate for the job.
Gently stepping closer towards the door, she placed her cool, freshly moisturized palm on the surface, a sharp sting of friction nearly making her jump.
Taking a breath, she turned the lock and opened the gate for the guest, and came face to face with Alex Lispentine himself.
"President! It's been so long! How have you—"
She pursed her lips, her eyes finally noticing the blizzard sweeping over the mountain range, the wind ripping trees out of their roots.
"Been…"
The man sighed, stepping inside the warm lodge and walking towards the table without a second of hesitation.
"Bianca, you really must become more attentive. The state of this place is truly horrid…"
Making his way around the corner, he froze, scanning the perfectly spotless kitchen with doubtful eyes.
Pots, pans, dishes, and even measuring cups were neatly stacked by the sink, clean and dry, while the dust tray moved on its own to collect even the smallest specks of dirt from the floor.
"How interesting…"
He ran his thin fingers, which were as cool as ice, along the table, the howling wind at the window beckoning snowflakes indoors and straight into the coals of the fire.
Watching her boss nod respectfully at her hard work, she beamed with pride, speaking loud enough for him to hear even from some distance away.
"I've really improved! Not one spot left!"
Patting her chest proudly, she watched as the man reached behind a cupboard, his hands clasping a tiny bird that cawed weakly, as if trying to sound polite.
"What is this creation then?"
As he carresed its feathers, the sound of the fledgling's blissful purrs echoed throughout the tower, and the woman's expression turned sour.
"Prodo, you traitor…"
Glancing towards the floor, she heard the chair beside the dining table scoot away, the guildmaster sitting down quietly.
"Bianca. Come sit."
The sound of his fingers rasping at the table filled the room, and the white-haired woman followed his command, her rainbow eyes staying downcast as she approached.
As she sat pitifully in her chair, she heard Lispentine's voice resound through the stone tower yet again, his black hair glistening with streaks of gold.
"Well then. You've said you had something to show me?"
Her face instantly brightened, the momentary depression she had undergone vanishing in a heartbeat.
Squealing happily, she conjured her staff out of thin air, holding it out towards the man with enthusiasm.
"Watch, watch, watch!"
Acting like a child showing her father a magic trick, she closed her eyes, chanting steadily in a language outside of normalcy.
『Sacrament of Minorality』
The head of the Hunters' Guild raised his brow, preparing for a flashy display of magic that he had never seen before.
However, much to his disappointment, nothing seemed to happen in response to her words.
"Am I supposed to be seeing something?"
He furrowed his brow, looking straight at the woman who was way too excited over the said nothing.
"Look!"
She stretched her hand with her pointer finger straight out, the distance between her and the guildmaster still a foot and a half.
"And…?"
He crossed his arms, slowly losing patience, yet only a second later, he felt a sudden and sharp snap hit his forehead.
"Hmm?"
He looked up in startled surprise before watching the woman burst out in laughter, her finger still lingering in the air before her.
"What did you do?"
Moving his head around to inspect her palm, he attempted to piece together what she had done, but to no avail.
"Can't you tell!?"
She snapped her fingers in front of the man's face, a sudden burst of pain coming from the center of his skull.
"I bent space to hit you at a distance! Now look!"
Picking up a piece of bread, she tossed it at the wall, the object quickly appearing back in her hands.
"I've created an anti-drop device!"
Beaming with pride, she saw the president's face contort as a thought crossed his mind, causing him to smile at her back.
"You've bent space itself, and the first thing you think of is an anti-drop device… How very you…"
He frowned, considering what that magic could do in the wrong hands; however, at a quick glance at the woman's expression, he knew that such magic would never be used for harm—it was simply another addition to her endless collection of magic.
…
『Covenant of the Unbroken Table』
『Testament of the Final Accounting』
『Mandate of the Immutable Spoon』
『Decree of the Crooked Meridian』
『Canon of the Inviolable Hearth』
Her lips moved at such a speed that the Grand Sea Marshal, Thalax Jeanfall, couldn't keep up, the spells compounding to such a degree that he could only continue to swing his hammer in frenzy, barely avoiding fatal strikes.
Their match had already lasted nearly half an hour, the absurdity of the woman's spells making it impossible to land an attack.
And, as she threw five more at him, he finally lost it.
First, the ground shifted, and the once sandy and soft pavement that was slightly waterlogged solidified like a table, the creaking and groaning of wood beneath his boot making him leap upward in surprise.
Attempting to slam downward with his hammer, he lost his train of thought, random numbers filling his head like he was some accountant filing his bills.
As he fell through the sky with his effort focused on the numbers, he gave up on the idea of hitting her directly, instead trying to toss his weapon.
Unfortunately for the green-haired Marshal, a spell had already been enacted to force the smallest object within his palm to remain glued to his flesh.
Is this woman sane!?
Leaping backwards right after landing, he felt his world spin, the direct center of his vision shifting just a minute angle to the left, making his entire figure feel lopsided.
Rearranging his position, he raced forward, his hammer winding up behind him as he prepared to strike the robed woman who stood defenseless in the center of the arena.
The crowd was already so engrossed in the odd spells that they had forgotten the thought of an actual winner, their surprise at the sudden attack making them instantly focus up.
As he swung the heavy stone hammer at the woman's ribs, he suddenly stopped, his eyes turning around slowly.
Wafting through the entire stadium, the smell of freshly cooked pumpkin soup filled every person's nose.
Before he could turn back and finish his strike, he felt a cold hand on his shoulder, a quiet, feminine voice coming out teasingly.
"You seem to have dropped your hammer. Let me grab it for you."
Whipping his head around towards his weapon, he realized it was still in his hands, an overwhelming amount of rage and confusion erupting in him at once.
Does she think this is a game!?
Feeling the spell that prevented him from throwing his hammer wear off, he grinned, the woman's back turned to him, making the perfect target.
Never turn your back on your opponent, hag!
Launching the stone weapon at its maximum speed, the sound of the air cracking and the barrier around the arena shaking bombarded everyone in the colosseum.
Wind so strong that it could blow away a child blasted out, hitting the barrier and dissipating quickly, while Cauron Thorn shook his head as he strained to hold the already broken barrier up.
As the weapon was about to collide with the woman's back, sending her flying into the barrier and ending her chances of winning, it suddenly vanished.
"What the—"
He never got to finish his words, as, only a moment later, his own momentum contributed to his end, the sound of his bones cracking against his own weapon echoing through the stadium.
In one loud thud, he fell to the floor, and the Multimage, Bianca Santoro, looked back with her hand over her mouth.
"Oh dear, did I give it back too hard? My apologies! An old hag like me needs to watch my strength, or I might hurt you!"
No cheers were coming from the audience, just a wave of stunned silence broken by the occasional laugh at the woman's words.
Her rainbow colored hair, hardened by years of mana overdosing, blew gently in the wind as she looked up at the stars above.
I want to face somebody interesting already… That Grimstall boy can nullify magic, right? I wonder if he would want to spar…
Humming quietly, she walked out of the arena without another word, the fifth day of November ending with the strangest match the world had ever seen.