At Ikerite Academy, the entire Jera morial Square fell utterly silent.
Every tree, every fallen leaf, even the drifting wind seed frozen in place—caught in a mont of stunned stillness.
Around the square, professors, students, and staff alike all stopped what they were doing, eyes wide with disbelief at the sudden, shocking sight.
On the battlefield screen—
The Saintess of Destruction had collapsed to her knees before Lan Qi, unable to rise.
It was like watching a headmaster catch a defiant troublemaker, forcing them to bow their head in punishnt.
Finally—
“Did you all see what card he just used…?”
A student asked in a daze.
“I rember there’s a psychic-type spell called ntal Disruption—it can briefly interfere with targets within three ters, forcing them to pause. Lan Qi’s card looked similar, but… I can’t say for sure…”
That’s what makes psychic control so maddening—it’s either chained and endless, or so brief that cleansing is pointless.
Which is why even Adelice, the Saintess of Destruction herself, looked bewildered.
She hadn’t even realized what happened before she found herself kneeling before Lan Qi.
“What the f***—no way you can make that card without ten mothers helping!”
“It’s gotta be Lan Qi’s own creation!”
Before, if they saw such a card, they might have suspected it was so twisted artifact born of the Shadow Realm’s madness.
But now? Everyone at Ikerite knew Lan Qi’s bloodline traits—and the fact that he was already a near-Platinum-tier cardmaker. No one needed to ask who had crafted it!
“Damn that Teacher Lan!”
“Seriously, what kind of thing is this White Mage of his?!”
The lightning-fast battle, from Lan Qi revealing his White Mage profession to turning the fight completely around, had taken less than a minute.
The students were still reeling from his era-defining healing style when another realization struck them.
“And why doesn’t he fall under the Great Love Poet’s influence?”
Everyone knew the Great Love Poet was the keystone of Lan Qi’s system—synergizing perfectly with his people’s natural talent for provoking enemies.
But the Poet’s flaw was terrifying: she targeted allies and enemies alike. Without iron will, anyone could be consud by her allure and emotional amplification, reduced to a puppet under her sway.
And yet, countless students had watched Lan Qi’s Shadow Realm challenges. He’d driven others into madness, yes—but not once had he himself been affected by the Poet.
Man and card together, running wild without restraint—yet he bore no cost at all!
After a long silence, soone finally spoke:
“…Because he is the newborn Dawn of the East, untouched by mortal emotion.”
“……”
“You’re right. That’s Lan Qi—high stamina, enormous mana, a White Mage with control, disruption, immunity to influence, natural taunt, can trick you into contracts, inflict undispellable rage and confusion—and then unleash the Great Love Poet like aaaarghhh—”
A burly fighter from the Spirit of the Brawler team broke down mid-sentence, voice trembling, tears streaming.
It was as if he could finally confess his long-buried suffering.
Even now, he could not forget that day, after Lan Qi crushed their clubroom, when their iron-willed leader Zirvini—the woman who had never shed a tear in her life—cried for an entire day.
Lichtenstein Castle Cathedral
Though the sunset heralded dusk, shafts of light still pierced through the stained glass windows, as if to reach every corner of the world.
In the glow of the great rose window—
Adelice, the Saintess of Destruction, had lost her balance and knelt on the cold floor.
Lan Qi stood tall before her, gaze steady, with a trace of pity and regret in his eyes.
“……!!”
When she finally realized what had happened, humiliation crashed down like an invisible mountain, crushing her dignity. Her fingers dug into the stone tiles, nails screeching against the floor.
“Ahhhh…!!!”
Her body shook violently with pain and fury. Each tremor was a defiance against cruel reality. Her lip split, blood seeping out, as pride and self-respect bled away with it.
“Do you admit your fault?”
Lan Qi’s voice was calm, yet edged with severity—an interrogation that scourged her final shred of dignity.
For Adelice, the humiliation was unbearable. Her vision blurred uncontrollably, tears swelling, ready to spill.
At last, a single crystalline tear slid down her cold, proud face, striking the floor.
The Saintess of Destruction—who had never once knelt before anyone—finally realized she had bowed before a boy younger than herself, under the eyes of the entire southern continent.
Even through the Shadow Realm’s broadcast, she could feel the burning stares of the real world piercing her, sharp enough to flay her alive.
She wanted to reduce Lan Qi to ashes.
But that one step between them felt like an endless chasm.
Lan Qi’s detached expression showed he had never once regarded her as a true opponent.
He was simply punishing her.
Adelice couldn’t comprehend what trump card he still held that gave him such audacity to look down on her.
On the brink of losing herself to rage, only a thread of reason remained, forcing her toward a final choice.
Seeing this, the executioner, paladin, and male guardian sprang into action!
“Kill!!”
“Fight!!”
They knew this was their rare chance.
The three of them charged at full speed, weapons cutting the air like lightning bolts, aid straight at Adelice.
Her trembling legs hinted at returning strength—she would soon rise again.
Even if subduing her today ant certain death, they resolved to do it—for their comrades, for the world. Their footsteps carried the weight of sacrifice.
But then—
As Adelice pushed herself up and t Lan Qi’s eyes once more, she froze.
In his hands, two cards glead orange.
The left—wreathed in sinister mist, deep as an abyss.
The right—crackling with blazing holy light, radiant as the sun.
Both radiated a terror that pierced her very soul.
These were no ordinary orange epics. Either one could end her fate in an instant!
“……”
Lan Qi said nothing.
But his faint smile was like that of a serene spirit, silently asking her—
Which one would you like to use on you?
Reviews
All reviews (0)