Rita still remembered a saying that made a lot of sense.
Practice is the sole criterion for testing truth.
Now, immersed in such a dense and bizarre magical environment, Rita couldn’t help but pay attention to the flow of magic, the way it existed.
What kind of nature did it possess?
It was only now that Rita, for the first time, truly and personally understood why Valfys had said that Dream Demons were a race skilled in magic.
She could comprehend it, seeing even more clearly than during her duel with Sumili, and found controlling it came much more naturally.
Because of this, she was able to instantly recognize when Dorothy used short-range Transfer Magic, knowing what it was, its function, and its ultimate goal.
It was for this same reason that she was able to try, for the first time, to condense her own charm aura into a tangible shape—not too forceful, not too gentle, just the right amount, and it was already enough to serve as a weapon.
Likewise, that was how she discovered the crimson aura around Dorothy was highly abnormal.
Although it was also a trace of magic, it resembled her own charm aura more than some random fireball or icicle anyone could throw.
That’s right, Rita always felt a sense of incongruity. Dorothy could set the entire city ablaze, yet ever since they started fighting, her actual strength was much less than Rita had imagined.
“A Magister isn’t a profession known for brute strength. What matters more is exploration, the study, refinement, and creation of magic. Though most Magisters aren’t weak, what truly determines a Magister’s level is her understanding of magic.”
Old Johnny had once told her this, but even so, Dorothy’s strength was still unnaturally formidable.
“Lady Dorothy.” Rita stared at the red in Dorothy’s palm. “This doesn’t seem like magic you could learn with human power alone, does it?”
Cecilia added at just the right time: “If I’m not mistaken, that’s a Blood Demon’s power.”
Blood Demon—Rita had learned a bit about them from two plays she’d watched. They were a race of demons who fed on blood.
Or, to put it simply: Blood Princess, Blood Clan, Vampire—just different names for the same thing. A Blood Demon was exactly that.
“Dorothy, could it be that you’re a demon too?”
“Demon? Don’t be ridiculous. I am utterly and completely human. Everything I have obtained and mastered is something you fools—something you people could never comprehend, something gained by constant striving.”
Dorothy sneered, raising a hand to grab her own sleeve. With a screech of tearing fabric, the entire sleeve was ripped to shreds by brute force, revealing an arm covered in suture marks.
“Do you understand? Years ago, I once encountered a Blood Demon. It was then I suddenly realized, only ordinary people are forever shackled by the limits of human magic, while the demon magic so despised by others is an unexplored treasure trove.”
Dorothy spread her arms wide, just like a Mad Scientist eager to display her world-shattering creation, and spoke aloud.
“So, I thoroughly studied that Blood Demon—no, not just once, but several times over. It turns out the bodies of demons are so fascinating, and their techniques can be used in such ways! To get the most authentic data, I even merged her flesh and blood with my own!”
“Heh.” Listening to Dorothy’s long-winded speech, Rita raised her sword and stabbed her black blade—shimmering with a golden halo—straight into the magic circle at her feet. At once, a large swath of the circle, veined with dark red patterns, dimmed, just like a broken neon sign.
“What are you doing!” Dorothy shrieked.
“Nah, you’ve been rambling for ages and I can’t even follow half of it. Promy, Johnny—their theories are useful to me, so I pay attention, but I don’t care what you’re saying. Lady Cecilia’s task for me was to tear this place apart, so I’m just getting started, alright?”
Rita scratched her head, spun around, and thrust her sword into another part of the magic circle, extinguishing another section of its patterns.
“You! How dare you call their words useful and ignore the truth I’ve discovered!” Blue veins bulged on Dorothy’s forehead—she reacted even more fiercely to this than to the fading of her own magic circle.
Rita drooped her mouth, face bitter, and shuffled a couple of steps aside. But Dorothy was too close to Cecilia—Rita didn’t want to risk exposing Cecilia to danger.
“Huh? What’s that got to do with me? I haven’t wanted to sit through a lecture since I graduated from university!”
Dorothy acted as if she’d just heard the most unbelievable thing in her life: “What?! You actually went to school?!”
Insanity.
Say whatever you want! I’m poking it!
“Stop! Stop stabbing it!”
Dorothy finally couldn’t keep up her composure. Since Rita and Cecilia had already seen through her power, there was no need to hide anymore. She raised her hand, sending several blood-red Light Blades flying at Rita.
Rita blocked with her sword. The crimson blades melted away like ice before the golden halo from her crest, easily deflected with no effort.
Besides, Rita’s weapons were not limited to just one.
She swung the single-handed sword condensed from pink charm aura, and the rhythm between the two swords perfectly covered the brief gap when the single-handed sword was retracted, making her defense impenetrable.
Dorothy’s toes tapped the ground again, red light wrapping her entire body. In an instant, she appeared at Rita’s side.
The crimson magic at her hand turned into a claw-like phantom, slashing straight for Rita.
“No way?” Rita blurted out in surprise, twisting and raising her sword to meet the attack, but Dorothy’s wild assault forced her to retreat several steps: “You, a grand Magister! Resorting to fists and kicks against me—isn’t that embarrassing?”
Dorothy’s forehead twitched violently, lips tightly pressed together as she continued her relentless attacks, forcing Rita to block again and again.
This was only Rita’s second time fighting such a strong foe.
No—her third time.
The earlier encounters with Albert and Momoka had also caused Rita quite a headache.
Actually, those times had been even tougher. She couldn’t use her killer moves on them, and she didn’t want to get hurt herself, so she could only look for flaws between moves to escape.
But all of it was meaningful.
Because of that, Rita was able to carefully observe and internalize things she couldn’t see from the outside, making everything she saw her own.
When one sword finished an attack and withdrew, the other would fill the gap. Back and forth, move after move—though it was a crude imitation, what Rita learned wasn’t Albert’s sword technique, but his core battle philosophy.
Rita even felt like she was looking in a Mirror, recalling her duel with Albert.
Yes, just like that—back then, just like now.
Only, the sides of offense and defense had swapped.
Although Dorothy appeared to be brawling at close range, every move was still constructed from magic.
Blood-red Light Bullets, blood-red Light Blades, blood-red claws—all weaving together into a world dyed in crimson.
And yet, within that crimson world, a touch of pink and gold still danced, never once extinguished.
Something was off—something was definitely wrong there.
Dorothy, it seemed, had another goal.
As if to prove Rita’s foreboding hunch, red light suddenly shone from the ground—not at Dorothy’s feet, but next to Cecilia.
Judging by the flow of magic, the destination of the teleportation was…
The very center of the magic circle.
Just like how Rita’s goal was to destroy the circle, Dorothy’s aim had never changed.
She wanted to complete this experiment.
Damn, still lacking experience—she’d been too focused on Dorothy herself, neglecting her magic.
But those threads could still be destroyed. There was still a chance.
“Now, I won’t be so gentle.”
Dorothy snorted coldly, beckoning toward the magic circle. This time, the crimson glow didn’t form into slender threads, but into blood-red Thorns, as if they would pierce Cecilia in the next second.
No! There’s no time!
No! I have to make it!
Rita flung out a burst of charm aura, forcing Dorothy back a few steps, then desperately beat her wings.
It was such a short distance—should have been covered in an instant—but to Rita, it felt impossibly long.
The rapidly growing Thorns surged toward Cecilia, their sharp spikes stretching longer and longer, ready to impale her at any moment.
“Hurry up! Come on!”
Spurt.
Countless Thorns pierced the girl’s body at almost the same time, and blood gushed out at once.
Cecilia, slumped on the ground, her pupils contracted to pinpoints.
Rita, moving at a speed she herself couldn’t even see, darted over, then reached out and shoved herself into the very core of the magic circle.
Then, just like the guilty maiden in a classical painting—created for the sake of art—she was pierced through by all the Thorns.
“Tch.”
Dorothy clicked her tongue in annoyance. Rita’s speed far exceeded her expectations, allowing her to accomplish what she thought was utterly impossible.
But her magic had already been triggered.
Well, no matter—Cecilia couldn’t escape anyway. She could always activate the spell again.
Now, let’s see what a Dream Demon closest to the source really looks like.
As long as she could make brief contact, she would definitely be able to obtain from her enough knowledge to change everything.
Dorothy closed her eyes, connecting her consciousness to the great ritual she had constructed.
Success!
Dorothy felt herself plunging into a pink-woven realm, her consciousness sinking deeper and deeper, the sensation of power and charm growing ever closer the further she went.
No, no, deeper still—she had to get closer to the source!
Yes! This is it! Right here!
Dorothy latched onto the thickest patch of pink, willing her consciousness to dive in, as if swimming.
In the next instant, she saw a fleeting scene.
A young girl lifted her foot and kicked hard at her.
Then, the connection with that consciousness was cut off.
At the same moment her consciousness broke, Dorothy realized that another consciousness had entered the region she wanted to reach.
Tch, was it Rita? Was she pulled into this ritual as well?
Well, that’s to be expected. As the sacrifice and core, she had every reason to be here.
But even if she came face to face with the supreme being, given her stupidity, she probably wouldn’t realize what a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity this was.
From Rita’s perspective, all she felt was searing pain throughout her body, followed by a total loss of consciousness.
When she opened her eyes again, she saw a familiar green-haired girl lying on a bed, kicking her feet and yawning.
“Hmm?” The green-haired girl turned to look at her, then casually kicked into empty air, before hopping off the bed.
“Hey, sis?” Valfys scratched her head. “I thought I taught you well? How come you still lost to that woman? Isn’t that embarrassing! Did you really learn what I taught you?”
“I—I totally did!” Rita’s guilty conscience peaked under that barrage of questions.
She had, but only a little.
Then Rita suddenly realized her thoughts were being led astray. “Wait! Where’s Lady Cecilia! Now’s not the—”
“Oh right, things on your side are pretty urgent.” Valfys nodded seriously and waved at Rita. “Go on, go! If you want to see me, just say the word and I’ll show up anytime! Now hurry and deal with that woman!”
“B-but how do I leave?” Rita was so anxious, but now even more flustered.
“See! See, see! I knew you didn’t pay attention to my lessons! Such a simple thing and you have to ask me?!” Valfys put her hands on her hips, not at all angry—she looked just like when she complained to Rita during exams.
“Then…” Rita hesitated.
“Fine, I’ll help you out too.”
Valfys sighed, walked slowly to Rita’s side—
—and promptly delivered a heavy kick to Rita’s backside.