As an orchid-type flower spirit, Bluegrass was naturally able to use some plant-based magic.
It used its magic to connect the silver-hued flower it held with the one it had originally given to Aurora, thereby pinpointing Aurora’s location.
Beatrice and Avila had followed Bluegrass’s guidance deep into the forest, finally stopping before a thick bed of flowers.
“Huh? That’s odd. She should be right here.”
The magical trail ended abruptly.
Bluegrass stretched out its tiny green hand and scratched its head in confusion.
“Teacher, don’t tell me we’ve been tricked by this spirit?”
Avila spoke with growing irritation in her voice as she glared at Bluegrass.
“How could I dare lie to you two? Let me take another look—there must be something here hiding her!”
With that, Bluegrass dove headfirst into the flowerbed.
A rustling came from within the dense foliage, followed by Bluegrass’s excited cry:
“There’s a magic array!”
“A magic array? Get out of the way—I’ll burn down this flowerbed and expose it.”
Avila raised her right hand.
From the wide sleeve of her witch’s robe slid a sturdy, beautifully carved redwood wand, smoothly gliding into her grasp.
Bluegrass quickly popped out of the flowerbed and darted far away, afraid of being accidentally scorched.
“Source of hellfire, incinera—mmph?!”
Just as she began chanting, her mouth was suddenly stitched shut by a transparent thread.
Avila blinked in confusion and looked toward Beatrice.
“No burning.”
Beatrice crouched down, plucked a pink petal from the flowerbed, and held it out in front of Avila.
“These petals all have miniature magic arrays on them. Judging by the structure, it’s a spatial-type spell. If you burn them, we won’t be able to get in.”
“Mmph mmph! (As expected of you, Teacher!)”
Avila gave her a big thumbs-up.
The thread sealing her lips dissolved into water, and Avila was finally able to speak again.
“So what do we do now, Teacher?”
“Step back. I’m going to force her out.”
“Force her out? How?”
“Reconstruction.”
With that single word, Beatrice placed her hand on the flowerbed and began chanting softly.
Though Avila was terrible at her studies, she still knew what magical reconstruction meant.
It involved adding new elemental patterns onto an existing magic array to alter its effect—either modifying or removing certain functions.
It was a technique that not only required immense magical power but also deep knowledge of magical theory.
This was only the second time she’d ever seen magical reconstruction—the first being a demonstration from their teacher in class.
As Beatrice chanted, new patterns began to surface over the original magic circle—red and fiery, like living flames.
The red patterns gradually overtook the original magic circle, radiating waves of blistering heat.
Whoosh…
The flower petals suddenly began to stir without wind.
One by one, they detached and swirled into the air, forming a colorful vortex.
“It’s hot! So hot I’m gonna die!”
A young girl’s voice came from within the vortex.
She coughed twice, then raised her voice and shouted, “Who dares destroy my nest!”
The vortex slowed to a stop, revealing a small, blue-skinned girl drenched in sweat.
Her forehead was glistening, and her flushed cheeks made it look like she’d just stepped out of a sauna.
“Teacher, teacher, is—is that the Fairy Queen?!”
“This is my first time seeing one! I need a keepsake!”
As she spoke, Avila bent down, picked up a petal from the ground, and stuffed it into her sleeve.
Beatrice: “…”
“Ive Aurora. She’s with you, isn’t she?”
“Hand her over.”
Her voice was icy cold.
The thought that the fairy she’d been searching so long for had been in their hands all along filled her with a barely restrained urgency.
She lowered her voice, trying to sound less frantic, but her bloodshot eyes betrayed her.
They were the kind of eyes one only had after traveling for days and nights without rest.
She had been anticipating this moment for far too long—how could she not be on edge?
“Fairy? No idea what you’re talking about.”
Shhh!
A sharp wind blade whizzed past the fairy queen’s ear, followed by the loud crack-boom of trees toppling behind her one by one.
The Fairy Queen, who had been feigning ignorance, was so startled she went silent.
She slowly turned her head and saw the wreckage behind her, gulping involuntarily.
“I said—give her to me.”
Beatrice’s voice this time was practically a growl through gritted teeth.
Her patience had worn paper-thin.
She had no interest in wasting words on this spirit.
Just the thought of that parasite fairy—whom she both longed for and hated—being within reach made her hearts race violently.
If she saw Aurora again, the very first thing she would do would be to forge a familiar contract—to bind Aurora to her side for eternity.
That idea had been etched into her mind from the very moment Aurora fled from her.
She had even refrained from contracting with any other familiar until now—because that place was always meant for Aurora alone.
“You listen here, you damn witch!” the Fairy Queen shouted, puffing herself up despite trembling.
“We forest fairies may not be the strongest, but we know how to repay kindness with even greater kindness!”
“That girl named Aurora—she helped my daughter. So there’s no way I’m handing her over to a dangerous lunatic like you!”
“Then die.”
Beatrice’s voice was calm and cold, but the instant the words left her lips, a terrifying wave of magic erupted beneath her feet.
A massive, glowing purple magic circle unfurled around her, so vast it engulfed half the forest.
From the circle, countless thick, writhing tentacles surged forth.
One lazy sweep from them reduced a huge swath of forest to rubble.
Viscous, strange purple slime dripped from the tentacles, hissing as it landed on trees and soil—corroding everything it touched.
Trees melted, the ground began to dissolve.
Nearly half the forest was soon reduced to a bubbling, ruined mire.
There had been no incantation.
It all happened in an instant.
Beatrice stood at the very heart of the spell formation, her eyes unusually filled with fury.
Her patience had been utterly exhausted. She no longer cared for explanations, negotiations, or delay.
The Fairy Queen, despite her long life, had never seen a magic of such overwhelming scale.
She sat there, stunned, her mind blank.
What could her humble plant-growing magic possibly do against this terrifying destruction?
“Die,” Beatrice said coldly.
She flicked her right hand, and one of the enormous tentacles swung down toward the Fairy Queen with bone-crushing force.
“I… I’m finished.”
The Fairy Queen shut her eyes in resignation.
There was no way she could dodge this blow.
But at least, she thought with relief, her daughters had already fled with Aurora.
Even if she died here, her daughters—and that girl—would be safe.
Whoosh.
Just as the massive tentacle was about to crash down, a golden arrow tore through the forest—flying straight and true—and struck the falling appendage.
The moment the golden arrow hit, the tentacle froze midair.
Time itself seemed to stop.
Even the viscous slime that was about to drip from it halted in place, suspended in the air like a frozen raindrop.
The Fairy Queen, who had tightly shut her eyes and braced for death, noticed the lack of impact.
Trembling, she cracked one eye open—and found the enormous tentacle frozen just a foot above her head.
“M-mother of—!”
Terrified out of her wits, she transformed into a tiny cluster of blue flowers and flopped onto the forest floor.
“Beatrice… you can’t just hurt innocent people like this.”
A soft, fragile voice echoed from behind Beatrice.
Her heart thudded violently in her chest as she slowly turned around—and saw that familiar face.
Aurora.
But she didn’t look quite the same as Beatrice remembered.
Her eyes were no longer clear and serene—now they were filled with deep sorrow, as if shadowed by a long-forgotten sadness.
Her long silver hair was no longer tied up, but flowed freely down her back, giving her a more gentle, mature look.
Beatrice’s gaze sharpened.
She noticed something was wrong.
Aurora’s body was slightly transparent—a sign of energy depletion.
“Aurora… my little fairy. I’ve finally found you.”
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