Memoirs of Your Local Small-time Villainess-Chapter 308 - Baptism

Arlene regarded Scarlett in silence, her expression neutral. “You’re here to learn from me?”

“…Yes. That is correct,” Scarlett said, studying her closely.

For a moment, Arlene’s eyes narrowed, as if peeling back layers of meaning in Scarlett’s words. Then her expression eased slightly, and she gestured to the open space before the porch. “Show me what you can do.”

Scarlett watched her for a second longer before lifting her hand with practiced ease. Dozens of tiny fire threads intertwined in hypnotic, intricate patterns, forming a fiery whirlpool. She had performed this exact demonstration more times than she could count.

Arlene observed with a thoughtful expression, then finally nodded. “That’s enough.”

Scarlett dismissed the flames.

“I’ll teach you,” Arlene said, rising from her seat. Scarlett knew from experience that a sparring session would come next. But that wasn’t why she was here.

She stepped onto the porch, her head level with Arlene’s. “I am not here for that kind of training.”

Arlene cocked her head, considering her curiously. “No? Then what might you be here for? If it’s my baking secrets you’re after, I’ll have to disappoint.”

Scarlett held her gaze, silence stretching between them. “…I spoke with Delmont.”

The light mirth in Arlene’s eyes dimmed, leaving them quiet and distant. “…Oh? I wouldn’t have thought he’d know how to find me. Even less that he would send someone like you in his place. Did he have anything particular to say?”

Scarlett hesitated, observing her. For a fleeting moment, she considered saying nothing. To simply…ignore it.

If this version of Arlene truly was as oblivious and detached from the real world as she seemed, Scarlett could do just that. She could continue training here as usual, sparring, learning, keeping the peace. Return here as often as she wanted and talk with Arlene. It would be so easy.

But that would be a betrayal of all the time and effort Arlene had spent on her. A betrayal of the promise Scarlett had once made in return.

She had known what she was signing up for from the start. She’d long since resolved herself to it. And today, she also wanted answers.

“Delmont told me about a family heirloom you once had,” she said at last. “Something your mother left you. A necklace.”

Finding that necklace had been the final quest Arlene had given her — the last trial before she would grant Scarlett what she wanted.

Arlene’s gaze shifted slightly, drifting towards the village square where the children played, their laughter carried on the breeze. “I know the necklace you’re referring to. What about it?”

“You still have it, do you not?”

Arlene didn’t respond. Instead, her expression grew distant.

Scarlett noticed the change immediately. Embers sparked to life in the air, drifting upward like fireflies, their glow casting flickering shadows. A hazy veil spread around them, soft at first, then thickening. The world melted away, like a painted canvas being smeared over with strokes of soot and dust.

And then—

She was standing in the field outside Freymeadow, engulfed in the dead of night.

Fire raged at the village’s edge, its hungry flames consuming homes as frantic villagers fought to douse the inferno. Their shouts were muffled beneath the relentless crackle of burning wood. Smoke choked the sky, staining the horizon a furious shade of red.

Scarlett turned slowly, facing Arlene.

The woman stood as she had moments ago — tired lines etched into her face, a streak of white running through her dark hair. But this Arlene was different. Blood stained her robes, dark and spreading from a wound at her midriff. And yet, her expression was eerily blank, as if all feeling had long since bled away.

Beside her, a smouldering corpse lay still. The figure was gaunt, its leathery grey skin burned and peeling, robes tattered. Though clearly dead, the body refused to crumble, the scorched flesh grotesquely knitting itself back together even as the flames continued to devour it.

The most uptodate nove𝙡s are published on frёewebnoѵel.ƈo๓.

Scarlett recognised him. She had seen this Memory before, after all. He was the one Arlene had fought before Vail arrived. That meant he had belonged to either the Hallowed Cabal or the Tribe of Sin. It seemed his fate had been sealed.

Not that any of that mattered to her.

She focused on Arlene. This version of her still bore the wounds from her first confrontation with Vail. Presumably, she was also drained from the battle with that man, mana spent. This was likely the most vulnerable Scarlett would ever see her.

And yet, even in this state, Scarlett wouldn’t be surprised if Arlene remained one of the most formidable mages she’d ever known. The same mage who, soon enough, would bring ruin to the village behind them.

And it was Scarlett’s job to stop her.

Arlene moved, raising a hand. Fingers curled, and runes flickered to life at her fingertips.

Scarlett tensed.

A crimson sigil flared in the air before Arlene. A heartbeat later, a fireball the size of a wolf roared forth, hurtling towards Scarlett.

She reacted instantly. Water surged up in a wall before her, colliding with the fire in a sizzling explosion of steam. The thick cloud billowed between them, shrouding the field in a white mist.

As it thinned, Arlene lowered her hand, watching Scarlett in silence.

“…Do you know who I am?” Scarlett asked.

Arlene’s response didn’t come in words. A volley of spinning fire arrows appeared behind her, streaking towards Scarlett in a deadly barrage. Scarlett conjured razor-thin discs of water like tiny shields throughout the space. One by one, the fiery projectiles fizzled out, leaving behind only faint wisps.

She had fought this magic a lot before. She knew how to counter it, how to conserve her own mana while dismantling Arlene’s offence. One could even say this was the moment she had been training for all along. All those hours, days, even weeks spent refining her skills — preparing to face a mage like Arlene.

Four distinct runes ignited around her, boxing her in. Without hesitation, she activated her [Garment of Form], dissolving into mist and reappearing a short distance away. But another set of runes was already waiting, glowing ominously.

She barely had time to react before torrents of blistering fire burst towards her.

Honed instinct took over. She conjured a barrier—half water, half flame—just as the onslaught crashed into her defences. Heat seared her vision, her shield barely holding under the relentless surge. Even with her pyrokinesis pushing against Arlene’s flames, Arlene’s magic was nearly overwhelming. The older mage wouldn’t let anyone interfere with her spells, regardless of her state.

Scarlett couldn’t afford to let the attack drag on. She made a split-second decision — something she hadn’t tested in actual combat yet.

Reaching for the power of the [Crown of Flame’s Benediction] on her head, she felt it stir. Energy siphoned from the surrounding fire, easing some of the pressure. It drained some of her mana in the process, but a rush of strength filled her in turn.

She didn’t hesitate.

She unleashed her shield in a shockwave, sending an explosive force outward. Water and fire swelled together, giving Scarlett a brief moment of opportunity. Her eyes locked on the runes still circling her. With barely a flick of her fingers, jets of water wrapped around each sigil. The liquid constricted, suffocating the magic within. All at once, the runes flickered and died.

Then, without pause, she lifted a hand towards Arlene. A formation of her own white-hot fire arrows blazed into existence, their flames sharp and almost hungry. With a single motion, she sent them shooting forward. They struck in rapid succession — but Arlene barely flinched.

The older woman's hands moved in swift, deliberate gestures. Multiple fireballs erupted towards Scarlett, each one streaking through the air with lethal precision. Overhead, a larger sphere of fire began coalescing, its molten core pulsing ominously.

Scarlett cut through the oncoming fireballs with sharp jets of water, dousing them before they could reach her. But the growing sphere above demanded more attention. She shaped a spiralling cage of water around it, feeding just enough mana to force the opposing elements to strain against each other. The clash intensified — then, with a sharp implosion, both forces dissolved into a hissing cloud of steam and embers.

Even as the remnants of the spell faded, a ring of Aqua Mines formed around Arlene. They detonated in a cluster of popping bursts, sending boiling water through the air. Without missing a beat, Scarlett followed up with numerous razor-edged blades of liquid that sliced towards Arlene’s figure.

Each strike found its mark — only to dissolve harmlessly against a shimmering mana barrier.

Scarlett pressed on, attacks flowing seamlessly into counterattacks as she matched Arlene’s spells. Gradually, their battle settled into a rhythm, almost like one of their sparring sessions — except this wasn’t training.

Then, without warning, Arlene raised a single hand.

A wave of pure fire erupted from her, sweeping across the battlefield. It consumed every lingering trace of Scarlett’s magic, a wall of heat crashing against her hastily erected barrier. Then, as suddenly as it had come, the flames receded, leaving behind a charged silence.

Arlene’s gaze remained steady. “This won’t be enough,” she said coolly.

Scarlett exhaled slowly, lowering her arm. “…I know.”

She hadn’t deluded herself into believing these tactics alone would bring Arlene down. Against any other mage, perhaps. But Arlene had never been brought low by anything Scarlett threw at her. Even wounded, she was a force unlike any Scarlett had faced, barring monsters like Vail.

But Scarlett hadn’t given everything she had in any of her attacks. Not yet.

“Tell me,” she said as spears of water formed in the air around her, glistening in the dim light. Their tips trained unerringly on Arlene. “Which version of her are you? Which ‘Arlene’ am I facing?”

A formation of fire spears ignited behind Arlene, mirroring Scarlett’s arsenal.

As if by silent agreement, they attacked at once.

Most of their projectiles collided midair, bursting into showers of steam and sparks. Arlene moved without expression, seamlessly conjuring more fire spears while simultaneously summoning flames that erupted beneath Scarlett’s feet.

Scarlett countered with a swift blend of pyrokinesis and water magic, neutralising the blaze before retaliating with her own barrage. Their battle continued like this — precise, measured, neither wasting more mana than necessary.

Scarlett recognised it for what it was.

There was a weight behind each attack, the intent to injure more than clear. If Scarlett let down her guard, even for a moment, the consequences would be grave. But this wasn’t Arlene unleashing devastation like she had against Vail or the Anomalous One. It was controlled. As if the woman was still holding back. Testing her.

Or hesitating.

Scarlett caught the momentary lapse just as Arlene cast a column of torrid fire around her. Instead of resisting, she allowed the flames to climb — drawing on the [Crown of Flame’s Benediction] to siphon as much of its heat as possible while encasing herself in a dense, protective layer of water. The artifact absorbed the energy, returning to her as trickles of strength that built up within.

She took the opportunity.

Activating the [Garment of Form], she vanished — reappearing directly in front of Arlene.

For the first time, a flicker of surprise crossed the woman’s face.

Scarlett struck.

Her fist connected with Arlene’s injured side, the impact carrying more force than she had anticipated. Arlene staggered slightly, though her defences absorbed most of the blow. Still, it was enough.

This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Scarlett conjured chains of water in the same breath, binding them around Arlene’s limbs before she could recover.

Flames erupted along the bindings, writhing against the liquid restraints. Scarlett clenched her jaw, pouring more willpower into her magic. She fought to suppress the fire with her pyrokinesis, channelling the circlet’s power to absorb the worst of it while reinforcing the chains with every ounce of her hydrokinesis.

Arlene’s gaze lifted from the chains, meeting Scarlett’s evenly. “…Do you intend to keep me shackled forever?”

“No.” Scarlett’s voice was quiet but steady. “I wished only for a moment — a single moment to ask you, sincerely, one last time.” Her eyes searched the woman’s face. “Which Arlene are you?”

Arlene held her stare.

Then, something shifted.

The faintest trace of emotion returned to Arlene’s expression. Slowly, she exhaled, a low, measured sigh. “‘Stubborn, unsociable, mordant…’” A faint, wry curve ghosted her lips. “And most definitely inclined to make bad choices.”

Scarlett's eyebrows rose in slight surprise.

Suddenly, a sense of unease prickled at the back of her mind. Instinct screamed at her, and she activated her [Garment of Form] in the same instant as a beam of scorching white fire tore through the spot where she had just been standing. It struck Arlene instead — only to dissipate harmlessly upon contact.

Scarlett’s gaze sharpened. That attack had been pure pyrokinesis. It was also the most powerful spell Arlene had unleashed thus far. However much mana it had drained, Scarlett doubted the woman could replicate it easily.

[Mana: 7564/12448]

As for Scarlett, she could keep this up for a while longer.

As she refocused, she realised Arlene had taken advantage of the moment to free herself. The woman levelled her eyes on Scarlett, silent once more. Then, purposely, she extended both hands.

A new formation began to take shape between them.

Scarlett narrowed her eyes, studying the spell. Interconnecting runes wove together, forming an intricate, fetter-like structure. Flames curled through the pattern, their glow pulsating with a dangerous rhythm.

She didn’t recognise whatever spell this was. Wariness tempered her mind as she watched the runes connect, forming a spinning circle that burned brighter with each passing second.

“One last lesson, perhaps,” Arlene said, her voice almost reflective. “One that may actually give you something, this time.”

Scarlett’s eyes widened as she caught the unspoken confirmation behind those words.

“There are few others who could benefit from this.” Arlene’s hand disappeared briefly into her robes before emerging with a dagger. Its hilt gleamed with dark sanguine scales, the blade itself like molten rock frozen in time, veined with fiery cracks. She held it aloft, flames licking its edge, then plunged it into the heart of the spinning runic circle.

A shockwave of raw magic erupted.

The circle expanded in an instant, enclosing them both in its near-blinding embrace. Fiery runes seared into the earth as pillars of flame roared to life along the perimeter. The ground beneath them cracked and smouldered, and above, the sky darkened into an ash-choked abyss, thick with the scent of ever-burning brimstone.

Arlene’s voice cut through the growing heat. “The Eternal Flameweaver’s Athame only ever acknowledges one true master.” A thin, ethereal thread of fire extended from her chest to the dagger, which now hovered in midair, its flames writhing like a living thing. “The process of changing its allegiance requires either direct divine intervention or the will of the current master.”

Scarlett’s focus flickered between the dagger and the woman, her thoughts racing. By this point, she wasn’t even sure if there was a point to being surprised anymore.

In the game, the final battle with Arlene had only ever been about one thing — stopping the weakened woman from destroying Freymeadow. But here? Here, so much was different. In fact, it was possible it had always been different, right from the beginning, and she’d never realised.

Arlene took a step back, her feet leaving burning imprints as flames coiled around her ankles, spiralling upward in a slow, wilful dance. “Fire is more than chaos alone,” she said, eyes momentarily moving to the dagger. “But it is not called the element of destruction without reason.”

The temperature spiked as the air itself seemed to ripple.

“In my case, I never had to go through this process myself,” Arlene continued. “A stroke of luck, you could call it. And as for passing the mantle — I never intended to do so. Not even to a disciple. Ties to divinity come with many risks, and this one…more than many others.” Her gaze returned to Scarlett. “But I suppose you, of all people, won’t have to concern yourself with that.”

Then, with a single breath, she began to chant.

“Flame eternal, bearer of will,

Guide this blade, demand fulfil.

Goddess of fire, witness and bind,

Let the chosen in flame be defined.”

“…What exactly are you doing?” Scarlett asked, her tone sharper than intended.

Arlene didn’t stop. Her voice deepened, reverberating with magic.

“In searing oath, allegiance burns,

Through sacred fire, a new path turns.

From one to next, this blade ignite,

Seal the bond in blazing rite.”

The flames around Arlene swelled, their intensity cresting as her raven-black hair rippled like ink caught in an unseen current. “I’m passing to you a torch I never valued much myself,” she said with a flicker of irony. “And forcing your hand. There is no time left for hesitation, Scarlett.”

The [Eternal Flameweaver’s Athame] ignited in a sudden, blinding torrent. A pulse of raw energy radiated outward, crashing into Scarlett like a tidal wave of pure, unadulterated heat.

Her breath caught as a surge of mana flooded her body.

[Mana: 8794/12448]

[Mana: 9912/12448]

[Mana: 11394/12448]

[Mana: 12448/12448]

“This is the Emberbrand Baptism,” Arlene said, watching her closely. There was something different in her posture now — less fatigued, more…resolute. “The only way for a master of the Flameweaver to pass its allegiance to another.” She gave a small, almost dismissive tilt of her head. “It’s typically a worthless ritual. A risk, with a cost few would find worthwhile. The Flameweaver’s power is already substantial without this ritual to bind it to you.”

Overhead, a column of fire erupted from the [Eternal Flameweaver’s Athame], piercing the crimson sky. Constellations of fire flickered to life in its wake, like vast flaming titans gazing down upon their duel.

Scarlett took in the sight, wondering how she had never heard of this before. Then she refocused on Arlene. “…And what is this ‘cost’?”

“Death,” Arlene replied simply. “The Baptism leaves only one standing, and that person becomes the Flameweaver’s master.”

Scarlett frowned. “That is unforgiving.”

The woman offered a rueful smile. “The fire goddess was never known for her mercy.”

Scarlett’s thoughts turned to her visit to the House of Fire, and the trial she’d endured in the temple below.

“Is it your intent to kill me here, then?” she eventually asked.

Arlene shook her head. “We both know that’s not the case. If it were not for that artifact on your head, I would never have even told you about the Baptism.”

Scarlett studied her, then exhaled. “…So this is where you have chosen to meet your end,” she spoke quietly.

“Yes.”

Silence settled between them.

“Are you wondering if there’s a way to circumvent this?” Arlene asked, arching a brow. “Thinking that perhaps, as I am merely a part of this Memory, you can bend the rules?”

“No, that is not—”

“Good,” Arlene interrupted. “Because I am not merely a product of this Memory. I never have been.”

The words Scarlett had meant to say died on her lips. She looked at Arlene, the heat causing her blood to pound in her ears. “…Then let me ask you this,” she said slowly. “Are you the one who created this Memory?”

Arlene nodded. “I am.”

“And all those times I returned here… It was always—”

Arlene's faint smile returned. “I doubt I need to spell it out.”

“…Why?” Scarlett asked.

The shift in the woman’s expression was almost imperceptible, but the weight in her voice wasn’t. “…We’re running out of time.”

She swept her arm outward, and embers spiralled into the air. They gathered, coalescing into a mass of flickering fireballs, swirling together into a seething inferno. The sheer heat was enough to make Scarlett pause.

“I don’t know if Itris can actually see what transpires here,” Arlene admitted, “but the Flameweaver is an impatient witness. While I have no intention of winning this duel, that does not mean I have the freedom to hold back.”

Her eyes locked onto Scarlett’s. “So, Scarlett, if you’ve learned anything from me, remember it now. Do not hesitate. Give everything from the start.”

Scarlett raised her hand.

She reached for her pyrokinesis — and the fire answered.

It rushed to her like a living force, a primal tide eager to consume. With uncanny ease, flames bloomed above her palm, trembling and crackling as though they had been waiting for her all along. The sensation was powerful, nearly intoxicating.

“I said everything,” Arlene repeated. Then, with one motion, she sent the storm of fireballs forward.

Scarlett barely had to think. Virtually by instinct, a wall of flames erupted in front of her, splitting the battlefield in two. But then Arlene’s fireballs tore through the veil, and Scarlett found herself assailed by an avalanche that overwhelmed her defences much faster than anything before.

Pain exploded in her left shoulder as something popped, and the air rushed from her lungs.

If not for her high fire resistance and the protective enchantments from the rest of her gear, that attack alone might have ended the fight.

She gritted her teeth, steadying herself as quickly as she could, determined not to be caught off guard again. Then, she hesitated—only for the briefest moment—realising that the pain in her shoulder was already fading.

And that’s when she noticed.

The towering flames encircling their battlefield were bending towards her. Streams of fire siphoned into the circlet on her head, feeding it in steady torrents without her even trying.

Right. The [Crown of Flame’s Benediction] had a restorative effect. She had tested it before — but it had never worked this quickly…

“Focus, Scarlett.”

Arlene’s voice cut through the haze.

Another barrage of fireballs arced towards her. This time, Scarlett activated her [Garment of Form], vanishing just in time to evade a follow-up strike. She reappeared a breath later, countering with a burst of fire and water. Using hydrokinesis here felt…wrong. Off. Like forcing two repelling forces together. It evaporated into steam almost instantly, but it still managed to deflect part of Arlene’s attack.

Instead of pressing forward, Scarlett decided to follow the woman’s advice. Regardless of the circumstances—regardless of what would come next—she had to give it her all before she could start worrying about other things.

The circlet on her head flared. Firelight spilt outward as it shifted into a radiant crown of molten energy, raw power surging around her. The flames that had once been Arlene’s now bent towards her instead, flowing into her like rivers into the ocean.

Power filled her to the brim, like she could set an entire forest ablaze with the snap of her fingers. The pain in her shoulder vanished entirely, and no matter how much mana she burned, her reserves felt bottomless.

It was as if she could take on the world.

And then, Arlene finished her next spell.

A colossal dragon’s head formed above her, sculpted from fire, its gaping maw flaring with blinding white heat.

Scarlett’s instincts screamed at her to move. But the inferno surging within her urged her to stand her ground. To fight fire with fire.

She did neither.

Instead, she reached for the seemingly boundless font of mana coursing through her—even as it strained under the demand—and summoned water.

A sea of it.

The liquid immediately fought to vaporise, hissing violently under the intense heat, but she forced it to remain. She poured more mana into her hydrokinesis than she ever had before. The swirling mass of water rose, morphing into a towering leviathan, an amorphous giant that rose to meet the flaming dragon head-on.

The two elemental forces collided in a detonation of scalding steam, a seething cloud of vapour that engulfed the entire battlefield.

Scarlett conjured a barrier of fire to shield herself, scanning the haze for any trace of Arlene. Her defences wavered as fiery arcs cut through the mist, slicing towards her one after the other. She countered even more of them that followed, but several still struck, burning into her flesh.

Pain. A brief, searing agony. Then it was gone. The circlet’s energy knitted the wounds within a second.

Scarlett clenched her fist, continuing to scan the dense fog as she reached out with her senses. Another volley of flames hurtled towards her, but this time she intercepted each one before it struck her, the fire barely grazing past her defences before flickering out into nothing.

Through the shifting steam, she finally pinpointed Arlene’s position, relying on her hydrokinesis to detect disturbances in the damp air. With a wave of her hand, Scarlett dispersed all of the steam in an instant, and in the same breath—as her [Garment of Form] had just recharged—she teleported directly in front of Arlene. She didn’t know the first thing about throwing a proper punch, but it hardly mattered when she felt as if she could knock down an elephant.

Her fist connected with Arlene’s midriff once more — and this time, the force sent her flying.

Pain shot through Scarlett’s hand. She was pretty sure she broke something. But just as quickly, the flames feeding into her circlet healed her, the constant heat wrapping around her like a mantle of breathing fire.

Arlene landed hard on her back, and for the first time, Scarlett saw just how much this fight had taken out of her. Even her, empowered by whatever force fueled this ritual, Arlene wasn’t as unshaken as she seemed. More blood stained her robes, and for the briefest moment, a grimace crossed her face as she lay there, unmoving. A pang of guilt crept into Scarlett’s chest.

Then Arlene stirred, and flames flickered back to life around her as she stood, signalling the fight wasn’t over.

Scarlett braced herself, her circlet burning brighter as she honed her focus, attuned to every shift in Arlene’s stance. She could practically feel the pressure of the Emberbrand Baptism bearing down on her now, like a relentless heat stoking her spirit, urging her to take more, burn more, use more. Frankly, it was starting to get on her nerves — but that was the least of her concerns.

Arlene lifted both hands, and with them, a twin column of spiralling flames erupted on either side, twisting upward into the snarling forms of two beasts. Their glowing eyes locked onto Scarlett for a split second before they lunged, tearing towards her with scorching speed. Scarlett raised her arms and summoned all the water she could muster once more, shaping it into a spiralling torrent that met the beasts in a thunderous clash, the impact sending another wave of searing mist rolling across the field.

“I would never have called you the quickest learner,” Arlene’s voice echoed through the fog. “But you always did grasp what mattered.”

Without warning, a jagged bolt of flame cut through the haze, striking Scarlett’s side. She staggered, the pain shooting through her, but she recovered almost immediately. The flames barely had time to sear before her circlet stitched her back together. With a forceful sweep of her hand, she dispelled the last of the steam, revealing Arlene through the thinning veil.

She gathered her strength and conjured a dense array of water spears again, dozens upon dozens upon dozens, hovering in the air above, straining against the fury of all the mana rushing through her. Arlene responded in kind, summoning her own blazing spears of fire. For a moment, the battlefield was quiet, fire and water filling the space between them in a fragile, deadly balance.

The air ignited with streaks of flame and jets of water as they unleashed their magic. Scarlett couldn’t tell how many of her attacks landed — nor how many of Arlene’s struck her. But the sharp burns that tore through her defences healed before she even had to bother with them.

When the final spear fell, and she once more cleared all the trailing mist, Scarlett saw it. For once, her magical assaults had actually left a mark. Arlene stood slightly unsteady, hand pressed to her side, with a new tear in her robes on her upper arm. It wasn’t much, but it was something. And against Arlene, something was more than she had ever managed before.

Scarlett wasn’t sure if she should feel bad at the tiny surge of pride this small victory gave her.

Once more, she drew on the wellspring of power inside her, gathering it for her next strike.

Above them, close to Arlene, she began forming a massive sphere of fire and water, the two elements twisting violently together — an unstable, volatile Aqua Mine barely holding its shape under the force of its own power. The flame demanded more of her attention, threatening to tear itself apart, but she focused, forcing it to stabilize, containing the devastating force within.

She was ready to detonate it.

But…she stopped.

Arlene hadn’t moved. Hadn’t made a single effort to stop her. She just…stood there. The outcome of this fight had been decided before it ever began — that wouldn’t change. But Scarlett had expected at least one final clash. Something worthy of a mage like Arlene.

The woman tilted her head, looking up at the sphere, and let out a low chuckle. Real amusement gleamed in her eyes. “Even now, you are still obsessed with those.” Her gaze flicked back to Scarlett. “Well? Are you going to set it off?”

Scarlett furrowed her brow, unmoving.

Arlene shook her head slowly. “Looks like I will have to act the teacher one more time, then. This much should have been enough, I think.”

“Wait,” Scarlett said, stepping forward, but Arlene was already looking at her, something soft in her expression.

“I already have, Scarlett. For a long time.”

With one last, small gesture, she lifted her hand and pointed at the Aqua Mine. A thin streak of fire shot from her fingertip, connecting with the unstable sphere. Its surface rippled. Then — it broke.

A terrible explosion of steam and furious water detonated in the air, cascading downward in a violent surge. The force of it ripped through the battlefield, a deafening shockwave of scalding heat and vapour swallowing everything in its wake.

And at its center—

Stood Arlene.