“Extreme Magic: Blazing Inferno!”

  The flames erupted with a ferocity that engulfed both Roselle and Sylra. The searing heat and scorching intensity of the fire were enough to force Sylra to lose her grip on Roselle, who seemed to have been fading.

  Alan dragged his feet forward. He exhaled sharply and shook his head.

  “Damn… I haven't even recovered completely yet, and now here I am using my extreme magic again… This is the third time today…”

  Roselle lay on the ground with her chest barely rising with each breath. Her body was battered and her own flames flickered weakly around. Her eyes were nearly closed. Alan crouched beside her with a steady gaze despite his own exhaustion.

  He nudged her shoulder. “Hey kid, you sleeping after coming this far?”

  Silence.

  Alan clicked his tongue, then leaned in closer. “ Impaled by Rocks, now wouldn’t that just be a bad ending.”

  Roselle’s eyelids rose.

  Alan’s gaze shifted toward Sylra, who was already regaining her footing. The dark energy around her surged with murderous intent.

  “She’s not gonna stop until she destroys you,” Alan muttered. “Are you just gonna let her do that?”

  Roselle’s lips trembled and a nearly tearful frown formed on her face. She wasn’t crying, but something in her face made it clear—she was breaking inside.

  Alan narrowed his eyes. This wasn’t the Roselle he fought earlier. The one who burned fiercely, the one who refused to fall.

  Alan leaned in slightly. “Listen… if you’re waiting for someone to tell you it’s okay to give up…” He paused and then lowered his speech to a near whisper. “…you won’t hear it from me.”

  Roselle’s eyes widened.

  “You three fought the four Elite Mages,” Alan said firmly. “Beat three of them. Came all this way, faced down Arlysa and her little protégé.” He glanced at Sylra. “And you’re just gonna burn out like this?”

  The flames in his hands flared. “What was all that fire meant to do?” He stepped forward and faced her. “Be extinguished?”

  Roselle flinched.

  Alan scoffed and turned around. “Hell no. You don’t blaze this bright just to flicker out when things get tough! Fire is destruction, yeah, but it’s also the will to keep burning no matter what tries to put it out.”

  He clenched his fist with flames coiling around it. “You can cry later. Right now, you still have a fight to finish.”

  He let his fire fade and looked back at her expectantly. “So? What’s it gonna be?”

  Alan’s words ignited something deep inside Roselle. Dr. Kintovar. Her sisters. Everything they had fought for…. She thought, ‘ I shouldn’t just think about surviving this fight, I should prove that I deserve to win!’

  Roselle clenched her fists and felt the heat surge back into her veins. She locked eyes with Sylra. The doubt was gone. Now, there was only resolve in her gaze.

  Alan smirked. “That’s more like it.”

  Roselle exhaled slowly. “Let’s finish this.”

  Sylra’s eyes twitched in frustration as her rocks launched toward Roselle, but something was off. They weren’t as massive or as fast as before.

  Roselle’s mind raced. ‘ Oh, that’s right! In Alan’s Extreme Magic, fire dominates the other affinities! Sylra’s gonna be easier to cook now!”

  Sylra lunged, but Roselle’s fists were wreathed in golden flames. It crashed against Sylra’s arm and sent cracks through the stone armor she tried to summon around her body.

  Sylra staggered back. Roselle didn’t stop. Another punch. Then another. Each strike sent flames rippling outward in surging waves. Alan’s fire coiled around her own, intensifying the heat which made each blow stronger than the last.

  Sylra growled and tried to retaliate, but Roselle’s attacks came faster—burning, relentless.

  Alan smirked.

  Roselle just kept punching. Harder. Faster. Until Sylra’s stone armor shattered. The moment this happened, Roselle vanished in a crackle of yellow lightning. Her fists, once raised in defense, now flailed uselessly as Roselle’s speed became untouchable.

  Then— CRACK!

  A crushing blow slammed into Sylra’s side. The force sent her flying across the dirt. That one attack—just one—left her struggling to inhale.

  Roselle stood still in thought.‘She’s just like Thalindra, isn’t she? Coming at me with everything she has and willing to throw herself away just to take me down.’

  She exhaled. ‘I don’t hate her. I never hated Thalindra either.’

  She looked down at her hands—the same hands that had taken lives. ‘But I have sisters now. Runebelle, Risebelle…’ Her thoughts shifted to Dr. Kintovar. The woman who brought her into this world and gave her a purpose.

  Her flames grew hotter.

  ‘I can’t let them stop me. Not her, nor the Academy. They sacrificed lives—innocent, guilty, it didn’t matter to them. I’m not gonna let that stand anymore!’

  Her gaze locked onto Sylra, who struggled to get up. “It’s time to light you up!”

  Roselle clenched her fists, feeling the lingering warmth of Alan’s fire still coiling around her own.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  Then, an idea struck.

  She spread her hands apart and gathered the energy in front of her. Alan’s flames flickered like a serpent ready to strike. The heat surged and grew into a massive shape.

  Alan squinted at the sight and suddenly stiffened.

  “Hey, wait a minute… that’s—”

  Roselle thrust her hands forward.

  “INFERNAL COMET!!!”

  A monstrous, burning meteor formed above her. The sheer heat distorted the air, warping everything around it. The pressure bore down and caused cracks to spread beneath Roselle’s feet. The comet roared as it plummeted toward Sylra.

  Alan let out an incredulous laugh.

  “…That little thief.”

  Sylra barely had time to react. The comet struck her dead-on.

  A deafening explosion engulfed everything in searing heat. Sylra let out a loud scream. Her silhouette flickered within the blaze before the raging inferno swallowed her whole.

  Alan let out a whistle. “Well, damn. That’s even more intense than when I do it.”

  The firestorm slowly began to settle. The oppressive darkness that once coated Sylra’s body vanished like mist under the morning sun.

  Sylra began her fall to the ground. Her consciousness wavered, but in those fleeting seconds, memories flashed before her.

  Alan’s speech echoed in her mind from their recent skirmish. "You really think Arlysa’s doing all this for you?" He had gritted his teeth. "She planned to sacrifice your magic from the start—to take it all for herself!"

  Sylra had denied it, but now…she gave it thought. Arlysa had pushed her. Had filled her with hatred, told her that revenge was the only way forward. That she had to reach the level of Extreme Magic, and she had done it.

  Her mentor’s voice came back to her. "Expect the unexpected."

  It was words she once admired. She once thought that meant being ready for anything, adapting and rising above challenges. Now she realized—she had been the unexpected variable.

  Her vision blurred. She was falling. Dying.

  And where was Arlysa?

  Sylra’s lips parted weakly. “…Arlysa…?”

  The world around her spun. Her body slipped into the abyss—until everything went black.

  --

  When her consciousness returned, the first thing she felt was heat. A searing sensation wrapped tightly around her body, keeping her arms bound to her sides. The second thing she felt was pain—her entire body ached and left her barely able to move.

  Her vision adjusted, and through the haze, she saw a glowing fiery whip coiled around her torso.

  At the other end of it stood Roselle.

  "You’d better not move," Roselle warned. "Unless you wanna die."

  Sylra let out a weak, bitter laugh. You’re… showing me mercy?" she rasped. "Why?" Her breath was shallow. "Why haven't you ripped my head off? That’s what I tried to do to you."

  Her bloodshot eyes locked onto Roselle’s. Was this pity? Mockery? Or something else entirely?

  Roselle exhaled sharply. The heat was beginning to take its toll on her body—her strength was slipping.

  "Alan," she said steady despite the exhaustion creeping in. "Switch with me."

  Alan raised a brow but stepped forward and grabbed hold of the burning whip. The moment his fingers curled around it, the flames adjusted to his magic and stabilized under his control.

  As soon as Roselle let go, the heat in her body dissipated. Runebelle’s fire fusion had ended. She took a slow breath before stepping in front of Sylra."You wanna know why you’re still alive?"

  Sylra met her gaze with narrowed eyes.

  Roselle continued,"It’s because of Thalindra."

  The name alone sent a jolt through Sylra’s battered body. Her breath hitched.

  Roselle’s hands curled into fists. "You want to know what happened back then? She sealed off every exit and forced me into a fight I never wanted. I was only trying to defend myself, but in the end, she still died by my hands."

  Sylra’s eyes darkened with pain.

  Roselle studied Sylra’s face carefully. "I'm sorry," She said softly. "But unlike Thalindra, I’ll give you a choice."

  Sylra's breath hitched.

  "Join us," Roselle continued steady. "Fight against the Academy."

  Sylra let out a sharp, bitter laugh. "Join you? Join that quack doctor Kintovar?" Her voice was hoarse. "No way in hell."

  She turned her head away, her. "Just kill me and get it over with."

  But Roselle could see the hesitation. The way Sylra's fingers twitched, the way her breath caught just a little at the offer.

  Roselle’s face didn’t change.

  "You're lying."

  Sylra scoffed. "You think you know me that well?" she snapped. "I don’t need your pity! I don’t need your choices!" She tugged at the fire whip binding her, but Alan pulled it taut.

  Roselle didn’t flinch. She simply exhaled. "If you really wanted to die, you wouldn’t be talking so much."

  Sylra’s jaw clenched.

  "You’re angry. You feel betrayed. And you have every right to be," Roselle continued."But deep down, you don’t want this to be the end. You just don’t know what comes next."

  Sylra glared at her. "And you do?"

  "No, but I know this—you’ve been fighting for a lie. And you felt it, didn’t you?” Roselle remained firm. "Arlysa filled you with rage but you wanna know something? The second she cast that spell—where is she now?"

  Sylra’s eyes widened slightly.

  Risebelle approached with her arms crossed. "She ran. The moment she used that spell, she was gone. She could be anywhere, but I don’t feel her magic anymore."

  Meanwhile, at the Magic Academy…

  The pristine halls stood untouched by the chaos of battle. Unlike the battlefield, the Academy remained an island of serenity—until a ragged figure staggered inside.

  Arlysa gasped for breath with sweat slicking her forehead. Her entire body screamed in agony, She clutched her side and seethed.

  "That damn Alan!" she spat with fury. "That damn traitor! Teaming up with those abominations—he ruined everything!"

  Her legs nearly gave out beneath her, but before she could collapse, two dark-robed figures rushed to her side. Firstly was a girl with short brown hair adorned with magical earrings and then another with long red hair. They both wore worried looks.

  "Lady Arlysa!" the brown-haired girl called while reaching for her arm.

  "You’re hurt!" the red-haired girl added. "Let us take you to the medical wing!"

  Arlysa flinched at their touch but didn’t push them away.

  "Tch... get your hands off me," she hissed, though she spoke without her usual venom.

  Still, she didn’t stop them as they carefully supported her down the corridor.

  Arlysa’s steps grew steadier with the girls helping her move through the Academy’s halls. She forced herself to stand straighter but once they neared the medical wing, something made her stop.

  She turned her head slightly, scanning the open corridors and the massive gathering of mages beyond them. Even with the losses suffered in battle, there were still hundreds left. A slow, wicked smile crept onto her lips.

  "I could use them… I could restore my power if I just—"

  A quiet chuckle escaped her throat, low and sinister, growing into a full, rasping laugh. The two mages at her sides tensed at the eerie sound.

  Then, her voice snapped into command. "As the Elite Mage of the Academy, I am issuing an order."

  Both girls stiffened at attention.

  "Once you’re done carrying me, get every available mage ready for battle. I want them to attack those three creations of Kintovar—and Alan." Her grin widened. "And retrieve Sylra at all costs."

  The two girls exchanged glances.

  The brown-haired girl’s grip on Arlysa tightened. "So that’s why you left Sylra out there… You wanted to weaken them first!"

  The red-haired girl’s eyes lit up with admiration. "Of course! You planned for this from the beginning. While they were busy fighting Sylra, they drained their strength, leaving them vulnerable for the rest of us to finish them off!"

  "That’s why you’re our Elite Mage," the brown-haired girl added with a smirk. "Always thinking steps ahead."

  Arlysa merely smiled. "Yes."

  It was a lie. A boldfaced, effortless lie.

  The girls finally reached the medical room. The glow of enchanted lanterns casted a cool light over the sterile space.

  Carefully, they lowered Arlysa onto one of the cushioned medical seats. The brown-haired girl brushed back loose strands of her mentor’s hair. "A healer should be able to get to you from here, Lady Arlysa."

  The red-haired girl nodded. "We’ll gather the others and prepare for the assault. Those abominations and that traitor are about to know what doom feels like."

  With that, the two mages swiftly exited the medical room.

  The moment the door shut, Arlysa’s lips curled into a wicked grin.

  Then, she laughed until she rasped into a choking cough. She wiped the sweat from her forehead, but still grinned through her exhaustion.

  "That was the last time you’ll ever get the upper hand on me, Alan…and you wretched scientist Kintovar and your creations.”

  Project Mage