Beneath the blood moon’s chill glow, cool droplets scattered from the gushing fountain, clinging to my sea-colored hair.

As my chant rose, raw magic surged from the Stardevouring Staff in my grip. In moments, thick threads of pure mana coiled around it, refracting the crimson moonlight and streetlamps into layers of rouge, jade-green, and vermilion.

The Coldblood Azalea sensed the magic spike instantly. Its wings flapped violently as it shot toward me, beak gleaming like frozen blood. Even a half-meter steel plate wouldn’t stop that strike.

Watching the beast charge, hearing the air tear like ripping cloth, I took a slow breath. My foot slid back an inch. Tiny fingers tightened around the pulsing Stardevouring Staff.

*Time to spring the trap.*

"Hear my plea, steadfast earth spirits of heaven and earth!"

My voice rang out clear and steady—though admittedly, it carried that lolita-esque lilt: crisp as ice cream yet soft as melted sugar. Pure. Almost *too* innocent. (Just my imagination, surely.)

Beneath the staff’s glow, elemental threads peeled from the air, weaving into vibrant strands that flooded toward me.

I knew this spell could block any ordinary Contract Beast’s strike. But the Coldblood Azalea? Not enough.

When its beak was inches from my chest, I twisted the ring on my finger—*Teleport!* A smile touched my lips.

Earlier, when it shredded my ice cage and grazed my sleeve, I’d deliberately *not* teleported. Let them think it had a cooldown.

So when I vanished skyward mid-cast, shock rippled through the onlookers. The Coldblood Azalea overshot wildly, crashing straight into the fountain.

"Block its path! Wall of Stone!"

The moment it hit the water, I swung my staff. Earth spirits materialized from the mana haze, sealing the fountain under unbreakable earth—solidifying it completely.

"All done, Master~" I fluttered down on delicate wings, landing with a flourish I *thought* looked cool. (Though he’d probably just call it cute.) "Time for fireworks... and barbecued bird?"

"Tch. That wall can’t hold my Coldblood—" The sneering man froze. Horror twisted his face. His unstoppable beast, trapped? Impossible!

In this magic-drenched world where physics isn’t well understood, he wouldn’t know water resists 840 times more than air. The Azalea’s power came from speed—useless here. Nor would he realize birds need runway to take off. Or that the fountain’s churning currents now drowned its panic like a headless fly.

...Though dripping wet like this? *Will* it still taste good roasted? Maybe I’ll test that theory. With extra spice.