Chapter 110: Anger.

Celeste closed her eyes, focusing on the sounds around her—the constant wailing, echoing, and vibrating, threatening to erode her clarity and destabilize her senses.

But… sound is sound.

It didn't matter where it came from. A scream, a whisper, a melody—if it was sound, it belonged to her domain.

She was a sound ability user. She didn't just create sound—she controlled it.

Feeling the vibrations in the air, Celeste 'saw' the sounds through her other senses. She reached out, mentally grasping the 'strings' of vibration as if pulling threads from the air itself. The wailing resisted, squirming under her grip, wild and untamed—but Celeste didn't back down.

No.

She was their master now.

Pouring her will and power into the threads, she yanked them closer, weaving the stray vibrations into patterns, kneading them into submission. The sound that had previously lashed out blindly was now wrapped tightly around her will. These vibrations, once free and hostile, were now bound—tethered.

They had a master now. And it was her.

Celeste wanted to analyze them further, learn their structure, and reproduce the same delusional effects. But there was no time. Not here. Not now.

Eyes snapping open, a grin lighting up her face, Celeste shouted, "There you go!"

With a final push, she flung the now-mastered vibration back toward the monsters. The sound that had once weakened them now turned against its origin. The monsters screeched, clawing at their heads, stumbling and staggering in the chaos.

They were trapped in their own wails—delusional, overwhelming echoes now reverberating right next to their own ears, relentless and close. Celeste had redirected the vibrations to loop back, targeting the very beings that had emitted them.

Unlike her, they were not sound ability users. They had no resistance to having sound focused directly around their heads, no way to dissipate the barrage.

The pressure eased as the monsters became disoriented and confused. With a window open, the Heart Class pushed forward, gaining ground toward the exit.

But Celeste was running out of strength.

Her power, potent as it was, couldn't be sustained indefinitely. The prolonged use was draining her. They have to move fast. So they did, from slow paced to hurried pace with Celeste leading the forefront.

Yuna, noticing the change in pace, allowed herself a breath of relief—

—only to realize, too late, that she'd breathed it too soon.

This domain may have been first rank among the low-tier ones, and the monsters weak individually… but the real threat wasn't them.

It was the sentient being guarding the artifact.

They had stayed away from the artifact's center, treading cautiously at the domain's edge, hoping to avoid detection. But it was no use. The guardian, even out of range attacked them anyway. Even if they didn't vie for the artifact.

This being wasn't like the others.

Its sonic attack ripped through the air, far more devastating than the previous wails. Celeste, already fatigued, couldn't cancel it in time. The impact shattered Yuna's water barrier in an instant.

The Heart Class instinctively moved to shield her.

The soundwave slammed into them like a wall.

Blood streamed from ears. Bodies stumbled and dropped. The impact rattled their organs, shattered balance, and sent waves of agony through their heads. The class crumpled, groaning, some falling unconscious.

And yet, one by one, they crawled toward Yuna, covering her ears, shielding her, even as pain wracked their bodies. Celeste concentrated what little strength she had left, redirecting all her remaining sound control to Yuna's protection.

Still, Yuna could hear it. The terrible, brain-rattling ring.

Her expression slowly hardened amidst her falling classmate as they swarmed towards her, eyes slowly scanning her fallen classmates—her mischievous gremlins who now lay bleeding or unconscious at her feet. Her rapid breathing calmed down.

Her frown melted into a blank, razor-sharp calm.

Raising her head, she looked directly at the sentient being hovering near the Crown with an impassive expression.

"You fucking—"

Flames erupted from her hand—fiery butterflies born of rage and fury. They shimmered and multiplied, flapping with a beautiful, deadly rhythm.

"Die," Yuna spat.

The swarm of butterflies surged toward the guardian. The being screamed, but the fire continued, blooming in waves, multiplying: one butterfly into two, two into four, four into eight—until a sea of flame engulfed it.

The being's wail intensified, directed squarely at Yuna. But she stood her ground, unmoved.

As anger clouded her head, Yuna couldn't care less about the pain or reason.

The sound churned her insides, twisted her gut, shattered bone—but they reformed instantly. She no longer had a purely human body. Her form had long been reconstructed from elemental essence. Her organs, her blood, her cells—everything was elemental.

The mutated Moonlit Orchid inside her veins pulsed in rhythm, healing and restoring as fast as she was damaged.

The being melted.

Her fire—Nami Fire—was no ordinary flame. Refined, volatile, and perfected, it could burn at over 1670°C now. Bone, skin—it incinerated all.

The being dissolved in a brilliant display of fiery butterflies, its silhouette lost in the inferno.

And her classmates, who are still conscious despite the pain, stared at her in awe.

She had single-handedly melted down a guardian far stronger than the combat puppets at the academy.

….

In the observation room, the casual-clothed teacher jumped to his feet.

"This—! That's another Law!"

He pointed at the screen as Yuna's flames swirled and devoured. The fire spread like a living being, birthing more and more butterflies. The sentient being was gone, swallowed by light and heat.

"Two Laws! She's using two Laws! And she's only thirteen!"

Around the room, silence fell, thick with disbelief. For someone to comprehend even one Law before adulthood was rare. To grasp two, at age thirteen? Unheard of.

Even among the oldest Masters—those aged three to four hundred—only a few ever achieved dual Law comprehension.

Genius? No. This was something else. Something on the edge of myth.

The other teachers stared in stunned silence, their faces frozen in expressions of disbelief and befuddlement.

Principal Lillith Noir, however, narrowed her eyes with a thoughtful glint.

"No wonder Elementalists ruled during the First Era," she murmured.

A teacher with a perpetual sweet smile leaned forward. "Do you mean… Elementalists can learn Laws more easily?"

Lillith nodded slowly. "Far easier than Mana users. After all, Nature in itself is Law."

Her gaze lingered on Yuna through the projection. "And Yuna… is a rare All-Elementalist. She is far more in tune with nature than any single-type Elementalist. Her closeness to Law is natural. But it's not just affinity. Her comprehension… her instinct… her mind—it's astonishing."

There was one thing Lillith didn't mention, though everyone could see it:

Yuna's ability to inspire. The way she elevated those around her. The spark she gave others, helping them grasp what they couldn't before. Showing them path, like that sound user—Celeste.

Lillith had been watching her. Quietly. Peeking from the shadows.

Not because Yuna was a genius. But because Yuna was interesting. The way she affected others, changed them, shaped them.

That was what excited the Principal the most.

"What will this year's batch of students bring us, I wonder…" Lillith said with a gleam in her eyes. Then she squealed softly, like a child handed a box of secrets. "Ooooh, this is going to be so much fun."

The other teachers, meanwhile, were still deep in thought, still reeling from what they had just witnessed.