If life is all about movement, then Emile's life must be like a mighty river flowing from the sky down to the depths of hell, only to evaporate and fall again.

Because she is just too restless.

Especially when she doesn't listen to anyone.

I see her left hand pressing against her own split head, muttering something diligently. I guess if an ordinary person tries rubbing their head like that, they would have rubbed off dead skin from the newly regenerated one. Her other hand is raised slightly at her side, with a glowing ball of light resembling Turtle School Qi Gong in her palm.

She keeps muttering, "Grow, grow, grow quickly!" That kind of thing.

That's a small matter.

The problem is, every time a word pops out of her mouth, she viciously raises her hand towards those two culprits and unleashes some sparks, lightning, or fire, occasionally accompanied by a strange twist. Even someone with a little knowledge like me understands that she's using spatial magic.

But that's just a small matter.

The bigger problem is that her ever-increasing malice has unconsciously spread to the onlookers. Almost everyone, except for me, shivered simultaneously, with the sudden thought in their minds that if they didn't close their eyes, they would go blind, or that if they didn't run away, they would die.

Although most mages have peculiar and daring personalities, under the influence of this inexplicable psychological shadow, most people instinctively closed their eyes instead of looking at Emile. Unfortunately, after closing their eyes, some mages with poor skills veered off their escape routes. Just as they were leaving, they almost ran straight toward Emile.

I intervened and redirected their bodies away from Emile, and in return, received a bunch of "thank you" and gratitude.

Hmm... although the scene was grand, it was still a small matter.

The problem doesn't lie with Emile herself, but with her hair.

Those things act like they're alive, rolling around on the ground, entangling together, and forming a small storm behind Emile. Don't even ask me why a few strands of hair can create a storm. Just watching them twist and turn like a fan, I feel a bit uneasy.

Vaccaca and Miss Forest Elf, on the other hand, have some skills. Under Emile's fury, they can still stick together for warmth. While hiding in the empty playground (after everyone ran away), they keep saying non-stop apologies like "I'm sorry, I accidentally created a light for you" or something similar.

By the way, the other faculty members seem to lack any sense of responsibility. Some of them run faster than the students. They seem quite used to this kind of situation, judging by their skill in escaping.

It seems that I am the only one who can stop all of this!

A noble sense of responsibility surged within me.

"Actually, you look quite cute like this, with some comedic effect added. I don't dislike it..." or something like that.

Now, here comes the biggest problem--

I actually intended to intervene when the situation became a bit chaotic--

But of all things, a strand of hair separated from that mess and came rushing at me like a little snake. The only thought left in my mind was, "Touching hands is the archenemy of magical girls."

And then it entangled me.

Ah, this thing doesn't behave inappropriately. It just clings to my fingertips like a pet. I can feel its joy and excitement, and even perceive that it lazily stretched and yawned.

If it were only like this, it wouldn't hinder me much.

The problem is, I can feel its spiritual body crawling all over me, being licked by something...

-like it.

No wonder it came from Emile; it's just a mini version of her.

...

...

——————————————————

On the rooftop of the administrative building, in Damia's room.

The owner of the room is watching the commotion on the playground from afar, casually waiting for someone to "inform" her of the current catastrophe.

At the end of Damia's sight is a chaotic flow of elements, where no one can see clearly.

The silver pupils of Emile's eyes are flickering with a flashing red light.

"It's really giving me a headache..."

Damia's body gradually began to fade, then disappeared with a flash, leaving only a faint silver light in its place.

The accident investigator finally pushed open the doors to the principal's office.

"Principal, our competition has encountered another problem... Emma, I knew the principal wouldn't be here at a time like this."