Scarlet flashes of blood streaked past Edma’s side, splattering in bursts of crimson.
If she still had her old body, she would have been seriously wounded by now.
Each of Edma’s attacks grew shorter and sharper, the force behind them swelling like endless storm waves on a raging sea, battering that white silhouette drifting like a lone boat.
But this was actually a sign that the magic she controlled was slipping out of her grasp.
Her power wasn’t focused on her enemy; all these terrifying displays meant nothing and only wasted her magic.
That white silhouette, weaving through the tides of magic, always close behind her, was amplifying the unease in Edma’s heart.
“It’s finally time for the climax, little Edma. Show me your desperate struggle—make me even more excited!”
Motes appeared behind Edma like a wraith, bending low to whisper into her ear.
For the first time, she stopped moving, revealing a face both beautiful and deadly.
Her skin, once almost sickly pale, now flushed with red.
A burning radiance rose from her gentle pink eyes, swallowing the reason of any who gazed into them.
In her off hand, she gripped a blood-red scythe taller than herself.
Its crimson edge flickered hungrily toward Edma’s vulnerable neck, like a starving wolf ready to slip free of Motes’s grasp and devour Edma’s life at any moment.
Edma lashed out behind her with dark-gold claws, retreating explosively to put distance between herself and Motes.
If this weren’t a dream, her back would already be drenched in cold sweat.
For that single instant, she felt death brush past her by a hair’s breadth.
The advantage of fighting on the edge of the Dream Realm was that she didn’t have to hold back.
Even if she died here, her real body outside would remain unharmed, her corpse perfectly preserved.
Of course, for Edma, whose situation was already dire, this was no comfort.
After all, her real body was less than ten meters from Motes outside.
If her consciousness shattered here, she dared not imagine what Motes might do to her body.
A B-Rank Powerhouse wouldn’t truly die until their conceptual form on the Dream Realm’s border was completely destroyed.
At worst, their main consciousness would collapse, but after some time they could recover fully.
But before that, her body might become even more unfamiliar to her—likely not just as simple as her Monster Core being corrupted.
At some point, Edma, who once saw herself as the fearless Dragon King, found her attacks weakening, her fighting style no longer as sharp as before.
Under Motes’s pressure, she was on the verge of becoming a cowering lizard.
But to tuck her tail and run—how was that any different from dying?
She was, after all, the supremely arrogant King Edma Dragon—she would rather die than bow her head.
‘Time to go all out against this damned woman!’
‘Didn’t you want to see my desperate struggle?’
Suddenly, sharp Diamond Scale Armor appeared all over Edma’s body.
Her figure shot up to its original height, and her mouth split open to reveal shark-like dragon fangs.
‘Then pray you can withstand this heat—enough to burn the heavens and boil the seas!’
Brilliant Sunfire burst from every seam of her scales, each spark dazzling as a solar flare.
Beneath the dead sky, a Great Sun rose, tearing through the endless darkness in an instant.
Its powerful corona drove away all chill and scorched everything exposed beneath it.
Yet Motes, the Magic Girl, now looked more like some evil spirit to be driven away.
She grinned in silence, the suffocating blood-red light still blocking Edma’s flames, a hint of excitement hidden in her calm.
Compared to Lando, it was clear Motes was the one who craved battle more.
Perhaps that was why Tang Nai kept her restrained.
She always stood to the left in Edma’s vision, arrogantly monologuing and mocking Edma at will, like a classic villain boss convinced of her victory—treating Edma’s attacks as nothing but a final struggle before death.
Someone like that didn’t look like the sort who would win.
Yet it was exactly this Motes who was the true Magic Girl in this fight.
“Yes, that’s it! Wager all your magic and conviction on this strike. Let me see just how deep your thirst for revenge runs!”
Motes continued her taunting without a care, making Edma burn with humiliation and rage.
Her Dragon Heart Furnace pounded furiously, squeezing out every drop of magic from her body.
She even summoned all her conceptual forms from the Dream Realm’s border, determined to crush Motes with a single blow.
At the peak of her fury, the suffocating pressure from Motes abruptly vanished.
Edma, holding nothing back, charged at the white-haired girl with terrifying magic and heat.
‘I stake my pride, my honor, my freedom—on this blow, I will utterly destroy you!’
The distance between them, less than a hundred meters, vanished in a heartbeat.
In the next instant, Edma was less than half a meter from Motes, slashing forward with claws of crimson-gold, enough to shatter mountains.
The air warped from the heat, hot enough to melt any metal.
Perhaps because of this, Motes’s smile grew even brighter.
“I can feel it, little Edma. Now you truly have the right to seek revenge against me!”
In a flash, Edma’s body froze.
A blood-red tide erupted outward from Motes, swallowing everything like the end of days.
When Edma came to her senses, she was back a hundred meters away, her power still at its peak.
Just now, she’d felt her blood run backwards for a few seconds.
But it wasn’t her blood that reversed—it was everything around her.
Was this her ability?
Turning back time—could such a thing really exist?
Before Edma could even be shocked, Motes calmly produced a Star Crest, placing it in front of her.
“Then, as a Magic Girl, I’ll defeat you properly—and guide you to become more obedient.”
As soon as she finished, a cocoon of pure white light wrapped around Motes.
The magic was so pure it cleansed the surroundings until they shone like a clear night sky.
It was the dazzling form unique to a Magic Girl.
And in that moment, Edma’s fighting spirit drained away, bit by bit.
‘I was about to risk everything, and now you tell me you haven’t even transformed yet? What’s the point of fighting at the market then?’
‘Might as well save my strength for later.’