Chapter 6 A Fool

POV: Angela Ashford

Lucas Eldryn was powerful—more so than many could comprehend. He was gifted with a mastery of the elements, an innate brilliance that made him a prodigy among his peers. In any other scenario, he could have saved them. He had the ability to stop the crumbling ceiling from descending upon the students, to extinguish the chaos before it claimed any more lives. He had the power to protect his friends, even in the wake of the violence I had wrought.

But in that moment, he failed. And it wasn't because he lacked the strength—it was because I wouldn't let him. Every time his fingers twitched toward a spell, every time the threads of mana began to weave in his mind, I silently disrupted his attempts. The moment his will sought to form a shield or call forth the wind to pull the debris away, I dissolved his spell from the very core. His magic was scattered before it could manifest, the particles of mana dispersed into nothingness, leaving him helpless in the face of the destruction unfolding around him.

It was almost amusing how futile his efforts were. There was no hesitation in my movements as I watched his panic grow, his eyes darting from the crumbling ceiling to the death of the students and his friends. His desperation to act, to save them, was evident—but all he could do was stand there, helpless against the invisible force I exerted.

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Then, in a burst of speed, Lucas bridged the gap between us, his two flaming blades crackling with fiery fury. His eyes burned with a frenzied need for control, for retribution. He swung at me with all the power he could muster, the blades cutting through the air in arcs of searing light, leaving behind trails of flame that seemed to warp the space around them.

His movements were fluid, calculated—this was a man who had spent years refining his skill. But his anger clouded his judgment, just as it always had. He was a skilled mage, yes, but he was still a boy trying to play at being a warrior. A child wielding fire that he didn't know how to control.

I barely moved.

With a simple, delicate shift of my body, I dodged the first strike. The fiery blade rushed past me, mere inches from my skin, the heat prickling at my flesh. I didn't flinch, didn't break my calm demeanor. It was almost too easy, like swatting away an insect that didn't know how to sting.

Lucas didn't pause. He swung again, this time aiming for my torso with a wild, vicious arc, his flames flickering like a predator's jaws. His desperation was palpable, his rage a consuming fire that made his attacks less precise, more frantic. I watched as he poured all his fury into that one swing, his entire being focused on landing a blow that would finally break me.

I tilted my head slightly, a cruel smile tugging at the corner of my lips.

"Is this really all you have, Sir Lucas?" I taunted, my voice calm, almost mocking. "All that effort, all that power... and yet you're still blind to the truth. If this is all you can do, then your so-called 'hard work' will never amount to anything. Especially not when it comes to curing your sister."

The words landed like a slap, cutting through the fog of his fury. His entire body froze, trembling with a seething rage that was more volatile than any fire. For a brief moment, his flaming blades faltered mid-air as his gaze snapped toward me, his chest rising and falling with the intensity of his breaths. The heat in his eyes was no longer just the flames of his magic—it was a deep, primal fury that had nothing to do with the fight anymore. I had struck a nerve, and it was one he couldn't ignore.

His movements halted. For the first time, Lucas paused, not from the weight of my power, but from the crushing weight of his own emotions. The fire in his hands dimmed, flickering weakly before it flickered out entirely, leaving only the raw tension in the air. His breathing was heavy now, like a beast cornered by its own demons.

Then, without warning, he raised his palms toward me, and something shifted. The very air around us seemed to hum, thick with the charged mana crackling from his body. His eyes glowed with a fierce determination, his lips pulled back into a grimace of frustration and resolve. The energy around him twisted, the storm within him intensifying.

It wasn't just fire anymore. It was lightning—raw, crackling energy that seemed to defy the laws of nature itself, a tempest of destructive power that surged from his core. His mana flowed like a river of fury, a violent blend of fire and lightning, twisting together in a spectacular fusion of his elements. His body trembled with the sheer force of it, his hands shaking as he concentrated every bit of power he had into that one moment.

"RAAAAHHHH!!!" he roared, his voice vibrating with the raw intensity of his unleashed magic.

[FUSION MAGIC: VOLTFLARE]

In an instant, the air around us seemed to warp, the space between us crackling with violent energy. The combined force of fire and lightning was released with a deafening explosion, a torrent of destruction that surged toward me with all the fury of a storm unleashed. The flames roared in tandem with the crackling bolts of lightning, each strike crackling through the air, each burst more intense than the last.

It was an attack that would have obliterated anyone else in its path. A relentless storm of flame and thunder, born from the depths of his desperation and rage.

And still, I remained calm.

I stood there, watching as his magic hurtled toward me, undeterred. His fury was magnificent in its power, but it was also reckless. His desire to protect, to prove himself, had clouded his judgment, and now it was too late. He had forgotten the one thing that mattered most: control.

Just before the blast could reach me, I blinked, vanishing from my spot in the blink of an eye. I moved with an inhuman speed—an ability I had honed under my [????] guidance. He taught me how to manipulate the laws of kinetic energy with magic, bending the very principles of motion to my will.

BOOOOOMMM!!!!

The force of his spell slammed into the wall, shattering it in an explosion of rubble. Yet, the barrier I had placed before entering the room remained intact. The surrounding magical shield trembled violently under the impact, its layers resonating with the shockwave, but it held firm, unwavering.

I had painstakingly crafted this magical artifact to erect a protective barrier that enveloped the entire room, a precaution I had taken for situations like this. It was designed not only to shield me from attacks but also to prevent any external forces from interfering with the unfolding events within.

Just like earlier today with a subtle gesture, I manipulated the artifact, adjusting its enchantments to allow the healers to enter the room. allowing Lucy to get her treatment. And at the same time trapping everyone in the room with me.

And then, the true effects of the explosion began to unfold.

The confined space had amplified the force of the blast, and the aftermath was devastating. The magic, raw and uncontained, spread across the room like an inferno, its power coursing through the air and inflicting its horrific toll on those caught in its wake. The students closest to the blast were the first to suffer. Their bodies, once filled with hope and life, were now consumed by agony. Flesh burned and bubbled, skin peeling away in grotesque sheets, melted away by the intensity of the heat. The fire was merciless, a savage force that didn't care for the difference between friend and foe.

The stench of burning flesh filled the air, sharp and sickening, as it mixed with the acrid scent of singed clothing. Some of the students' clothes had burned away entirely, their fabric fusing into their skin, a horrifying sight of blood and ash. Others were writhing in agony, their voices strained with the pain of their injuries as they fought against the searing torment coursing through their veins.

I could hear the screams, distant and disembodied, as if the noise itself was distorted by the weight of the magic in the air. The explosion had left no mercy for those unlucky enough to be too close, their bodies a testament to the sheer destructive force of Lucas's reckless attack. But I wasn't the one to blame for this carnage. It was his fury, his lack of restraint, that had brought them to this point.

The barrier, while offering protection for me, had also sealed them in—locked them in a room where their suffering could not be escaped. I could feel the tension in the air, the pulse of life and death clashing in a terrible harmony.

I saw Lucas standing still, his breath coming in ragged gasps, his body trembling as if the realization of what had just transpired hadn't fully settled in. His eyes, wide with disbelief, slowly shifted across the room, taking in the wreckage—the scorched bodies of students, the cries of agony that echoed through the room like a sickening symphony.

He didn't move. He didn't speak.

The raw, untamed power he had unleashed had already done its damage. His once-bright determination had been smothered under the weight of his actions, and now, as the dust settled and the cries of the wounded grew louder, it was impossible for him to deny the truth that hung in the air like a suffocating fog.

His fury had consumed everything.

I could see it in his eyes: the weight of guilt beginning to seep in. His chest heaved, but it wasn't from the strain of the magic anymore. It was the silent, crushing realization of what he had done. I had no doubt that he had never intended for this. He never imagined that his desperation to stop me—to stop this—would cost so many lives. Yet here we were.

"Why...?" His voice broke the silence, cracking with a mixture of confusion, rage, and grief. The single word seemed to hang in the air, suspended in the tension that had gripped the room. "Why did you make me do this?"

I didn't answer immediately. Instead, I studied him, the boy who thought he could play at being a hero, whose every move had been fueled by rage and emotion rather than reason. His hands, once crackling with uncontrollable magic, now hung limp at his sides, the flames and lightning long extinguished, leaving only the echo of their destruction.

"Is that really your question, Lucas?" I replied coldly, my voice unwavering. "You think I made you do this? Your own anger, your own desire for control, did this. You're the one who couldn't see past your emotions. You were the one who let your rage drive you to this point. I didn't need to do anything. You destroyed this place all on your own."

I stepped toward him, slow and deliberate, my footsteps almost drowned by the anguish that filled the room. My eyes never left his face, watching the struggle within him unfold like a storm on the horizon.

"You had all the power in the world, Sir Lucas," I continued, my tone growing colder, more cutting with every word. "But what good is that power if you don't have the control to wield it? You couldn't even protect your friends. You couldn't save anyone."

I paused, letting the weight of my words sink in. The silence between us felt like a suffocating blanket, thick with the despair that now defined this place. "You thought you could burn everything down and make it right, but in the end, you only lit the fire that consumed everything."

I could see the flicker of something in his eyes—something darker, more painful than the flames that once danced within them. He understood now. He understood what I had done, what he had done. But it was too late. We were both trapped in this moment, bound by the choices we had made.