Anliena froze, like a sparrow struck by sudden frost; she hadn’t thought Auril would step in this time.

“Hold on—why?” Her voice snapped like a bowstring in cold air.

Unease pooled like cold water in her gut. Anliena stood, looked at Auril, then at Lucimia, calm as a stone lantern in storm, and the realization crept in like dawn.

“You made a deal? Auril, you’re helping her?” The words fell like pebbles into a still pond.

“No. I’m helping you.” Auril shook his head, steady as a pendulum.

At that, Lucimia didn’t stir; she kept her eyes closed, breathing slow, like a pond under moonlight.

Annoyance flared like embers in dry grass. “Help me? I’ve prepared for this Duel for a long time. I’m confident I’ll win. Blocking me now breaks fairness.”

Auril didn’t anger; his calm fell like snow on a brazier. “No, you’re not sure. I know what you plan to Duel over—magic. You think her Authority Power is tricky, so you choose the magic you pride yourself on. But hear me: you can’t match her. Her magic is stronger, darker. No loophole helps. If you’re outmatched, you’re outmatched.”

Doubt rose like steam from hot iron. “How’s that possible? I won’t know till I try. I’m a Ninth Rank Mage. Is she the fabled tenth?”

“Then do this: cast whatever you like, anything at all, and watch her response.” Auril’s glance slid to Lucimia like a shadow crossing a sundial. “You don’t mind?”

“Whatever.” Lucimia’s tone was flat, like wind over empty fields.

She knew Auril might help Anliena; better to lift the curtain than shuffle cards in mist.

Confidence sat in her chest like a lit brazier. She didn’t think she’d lose; she would go all out.

Anliena didn’t buy that Lucimia’s magic touched a tenth rank. After two heartbeats, she snapped an ice blade toward Lucimia, cold light like a crescent.

Lucimia sat steady, unmoving, like a statue under frost. The ice blade went bang and shattered into snowflakes inches from her.

Anliena stalled, surprise pinning her like a pin through silk.

She hadn’t moved, yet broke the spell—and there’d been no surge of mana at all, like thunder without rain.

Frown tightening like drawn bowstrings, she fired a flurry of ice blades, a white flock winging for Lucimia.

But just before impact, every blade hung in midair, like swallows nailed to the sky.

?!

Shock hit Anliena like a drumbeat to the chest.

It wasn’t the hovering that shook her; it was the severed leash—her blades no longer obeyed, like horses bolting the reins.

A heartbeat later, every blade spun and lunged back at its maker, like a pack turning on its handler.

Urgency licked up like fire in dry straw. No time to think—Anliena fell back a stride and swept her hand. A wall of wind rose like a cliff, catching every incoming blade.

“Got you mapped,” Lucimia said, voice slipping in like a chill draft.

“What?” Confusion flickered in Anliena like ripples on a pond.

Stubborn pride sat like a rock in a river. She admitted Lucimia’s skill wasn’t low, but refused to believe the gap was a canyon.

What Lucimia had done, she could do too—though only to those weaker, like trimming reeds, not felling pines.

“Try another spell,” Lucimia said, words calm as falling snow.

Frowning, two beats to think, Anliena dropped the usual elements and chose Instant Movement, thought darting like a fish.

But as she reached for Instant Movement, she froze—dread rising like black water.

Her own mana slipped the net; she couldn’t control it, like sand pouring through fingers.

Her spells wouldn’t come, like a locked door under her hand.

Mana churned inside her, chaotic, unruly, like a storm in a sealed jar.

Terror spread like frost across her face. “How is this possible? How can anyone do this?”

The thought struck like lightning—if this were a death match and an enemy seized her mana, it would mean death.

A mage who can do this—does that make her the bane of mages, a scythe over the world’s spellcasters?

Reluctant acceptance settled like dusk. Only then did Anliena believe Auril was right. She couldn’t win in magic. Letting Auril set the Duel terms was, in truth, help.

She said nothing more, sat back down, face dark as brewing rain.

“Start announcing the Duel’s content,” she said, words dropping like stones.

She accepted it, like a leaf giving in to the current.

Lucimia withdrew her grip on Anliena’s mana; only then did Anliena breathe out, relief like warm mist.

Auril nodded; his voice rolled low, like distant thunder, to the three girls: “The Duel’s content—Serial Murders.”

“Huh?” The question popped from Rexi, like a bubble rising.

“What? Serial Murders? What does that mean?” Anliena’s confusion fanned like scattered leaves.

Lucimia’s gaze turned, a quiet lantern of doubt.

Auril explained, voice like iron in shade: “You will each take a role—Investigator and Serial Killer.”

“Investigator victory: obtain hard proof, a steel nail of evidence, point to the killer with it; or convince law enforcement your accusation is right, and you win.”

“Serial Killer victory: by any means, kill seven designated people. Each death must tie to you by a necessary thread; and till the end, no proof nets you, or law can’t confirm you, then you win.”

“The loser offers their time ability to the victor, like laying a clockwork heart on an altar.”

Auril paused, silence settling like dust, giving the three a moment to grasp it.

“Hold up—this is a problem, right?” Rexi stepped forward fast, like a spark jumping. “Fine about the Investigator. But what is this ‘Serial Killer’? If we draw that role, we have to kill? Those people are innocent, aren’t they? You’re this country’s king—this is how you treat your people?”

Anliena looked at Auril too, her gaze a flint of protest, and a curl of doubt—why would he set a Duel like this?

Lucimia’s brow pinched, a fine crease like a leaf vein.

She was eager for power, yes, and selfish in measure, but killing the innocent wasn’t a line she’d cross. Wasan Village had been a special case, and with Reversion, it could be unwound like threads.

Wait—was that Auril’s plan as well? The question circled like a moth around a lamp.

Auril didn’t answer Rexi’s fire; he spoke coldly, like a blade laid on stone: “If you object, you can surrender.”

…

Silence fell over the three, like snow muffling a road.

Only then did Auril continue, rules unfolding like paper screens—

“First, shared rules,” his tone steady like a drumbeat.

“One: both sides must field equal numbers, but only one person holds the role, like two scales balanced with a single weight.”

“Two: roles are random, like lots drawn from a black bag.”

“Three: since you all know each other, to avoid the Investigator shadowing the Serial Killer and breaking balance, once the Serial Killer takes the first life, everyone’s memory is wiped, leaving only what was said in these rules—like a curtain dropped over the stage.”

“Thus, neither side will continue knowing their own role, like masks swapped in the dark.”

“Rexi may not use Memory Power to restore anyone’s memories from the start of the Duel to the first victim’s death, nor disclose information, like sealing a letter with wax.”

“Four: participants can’t be changed, like names carved into stone.”

“Five: because Lucimia and Rexi bear Authority Powers, to keep balance, you’re forbidden to use any Authority Power directly against your Duel opponent, like keeping blades sheathed at the table.”

“Devouring may not target this country’s residents, though it may be used in other situations, like a mouth closed to one field.”

“Memory Power may not target this country’s residents, like a mirror covered in cloth.”

“Severing Authority Power is limited to killing, like a guillotine raised only for execution.”

“Disguise Power is limited to yourselves and allies; when one uses it, the other cannot, like one mask worn at a time.”

“Soul Authority Power may be used only three times, like three incense sticks burned and gone.”

“Six: time abilities aren’t banned, like rivers allowed to bend.”

“But when Lucimia uses Reversion, an Anliena under Time Halt will know, like a chime in frozen air.”

“And since the prior rule forbids Devouring on this country’s residents, when Anliena uses Time Halt, Lucimia will be frozen as well, which breaks balance, like both dancers stopped mid-step.”

“Therefore, after time is halted, Lucimia may use Devouring to resist the halt, but only on herself and her allies, like lighting a lantern within a sealed room.”