By all logic, Alicia should’ve felt joy, like sunlight breaking through fog. She’d planned to turn red mana into blue. Yet her face held no smile, only shock pooling like cold water.

—Why?

The question rose again, a knot in her chest before thought. Not self-reproach this time, but bafflement at the tides shifting inside her.

If her guess was right, the red, fire-tinted mana should’ve flipped straight to blue, like day to dusk. Yet a hiccup rippled the stream—no, not a hiccup. The red first bled into green, nature mana, like spring leaf before summer sky, then flowed into blue.

So the rule bent sideways. To change forms, it had to pass through nature, an intermediary ford in the river.

She filed the answer away like a pebble in her pocket. It didn’t touch the end result, so she didn’t dwell.

Flame roared on her left hand like a bonfire in the wind. Water spiraled on her right like a whirlpool in a clear lake. Two clashing elements, braided and alive.

Her gaze met Ying, the one who’d “taught” her so much, like a student staring down a storm. In the red dragon head’s eyes, surprise flared like sparks.

“Human! How can you do that?!”

Pride twitched under the scales. He’d thought only he, of all under heaven, could wield both elements—like a lone peak above the clouds. Now a girl he wouldn’t value over a loaf of bread cracked that peak with a laugh.

If the challenger were stronger, the red head might’ve bowed like bamboo in wind. But this girl, less than food in his eyes, dared to topple his pride. Absolutely not.

—[Scorching Purgatory]!

A pillar of fire roared from his maw, a molten lance tearing the air toward Alicia. She wasn’t who she’d been moments ago. Earlier she’d feared the bite of water magic; now, a flick could call it like rain to ground.

She didn’t cast it. She wanted a test, like tapping steel against stone. How strong was a column made of pure water mana alone? After all, her water was built on a fire foundation; what if it was cheap tin under the paint?

It turned out the worry was only her shadow.

A pure water column burst forth, a river leaping its bank. It met the fire head-on with needlepoint precision, like two stags locking horns. Neither gave an inch.

Their clash grew savage. At the seam where river and flame wrestled, steam billowed thick as a blindfold, veiling the center so no eye could judge the balance.

—[Frozen Path]!!

The blue dragon head—timid till now like frost before dawn—lunged in at last. The balance snapped like a twig; advantage swung to Ying in a single breath.

Alicia slipped into disadvantage for a blink, but fear never rooted. Instead, excitement lit her like a torch; her grin showed battle-hungry teeth.

“You lot! Don’t sell me short. I might not know water like a native river—but fire? That’s my pride.”

Her burning left hand cut toward Ying like a blade. Five fingers opened. Three nested equilateral triangles bloomed into a magic circle before her, like a crimson mandala. Hair-thin red threads ran from her palm to the circle, spider-silk taut and humming.

Fire bird drowned in the Underworld.

You bear a furnace’s might.

You know the truth of flame.

You understand. You create.

You are the best wielder of fire.

Now…

Are you done sleeping, damn it?

If you’re awake, get over here.

[Underworld Fire Raven]!!

The triple circle shuddered like a drumhead, then spun a few turns, clicking like locks catching. A raven of living flame smashed the sigils and burst free, a comet with wings.

It lifted eyelids made of fire, and the red eyes beneath pinned Alicia like a spear.

“You are my Mas—”

“Charge!”

She gave it no room for courtesies, only the simplest order, sharp as a whipcrack.

The raven tried to speak, but the summoning bit like a bridle. Its body obeyed, shooting toward the oncoming ice pillars like an arrow to a mark.

Boom—!!

They collided. The fire raven held the sky like noon sun. It hammered through the ice unhindered and knifed straight for the blue dragon head.

——————————————

Currently available intel:

Alicia’s first water spell turned ambient mana straight into water, a sea against a forge—its nature clashed with her fire. The backlash raked her body like thorns.

Her later method converted her already-transmuted fire mana into water, a river flowing through familiar banks. It kept a trace of fire’s nature, so it didn’t clash, letting her wield both at once.

Drawing huge mana from the air swells your pool like inhaling a storm. It boosts power briefly, but it drains the body like a long march, so it’s for emergencies. Day to day, slow breathing restoration suffices.

If mana exceeds the body’s capacity, it’s like forcing water into a sealed bottle already full. You can cram in a little more without instant rupture. But push past the bottle’s limit, and—instant explosion.