The rain was gradually subsiding, leaving behind a trail of mist that obscured their vision. Sirra's rain-summoning technique had been active for an exceptionally long time, and it was rare for it to last this long. Even if it weren't for the battle at the town hall, the rain would still be falling.

  “Where are you going, princess?” A loud voice echoed from behind Mira and Sirra. Mirra, who was still supporting her sister, peeked from the corner of her eye.

  Mirra's body tensed. How could it not? The figure she saw looked very creepy. Muro's melted armor clung to the person's body, boiling lava adorned almost every inch of his body, and his feet left hot trails of steam.

  Shock flickered across Mira’s face. Pati Tirta stood guard behind her, blocking all passage. If this monster had made it through, then Pati Tirta had already fallen.

  ?“My name is Muro, and that person... He has already lost.” Muro responded to Mira's surprise. He smiled slightly, satisfied to see the expression of his prey in front of him now.

  “Mira,” Sirra whispered. She had woken up, freed herself from her younger sister, and turned to face Muro. “Get away from here.”

  Muro was about to approach the two princesses when a sharp whistling sound cut through the hot air. It was not the sound of metal, but of high-pressure water.

  A whip of water shot out from behind a pillar of rubble, striking Muro's shoulder. When the cold water met Muro's magma armor, an explosion of steam occurred instantly. A loud hissing sound filled the courtyard, creating a thick, blinding curtain of white mist.

  From behind the mist, the Eldest Princess stepped forward. Her eyes were not wet with tears, but burning with cold anger. Her hands moved gracefully like a royal dancer, but her fingers emitted alternating blue and red auras.

  She swung her right staff horizontally, sending out a wave of heat to disperse the mist. However, the steam did not retreat. Instead, the fog grew thicker, swirling unnaturally, refracting the evening light into thousands of confusing colors.

  Sirra stamped her foot. The stone floor beneath her cracked, and geysers of groundwater spurted out, mixing with the hot steam in the air. She manipulated the temperature with terrifying precision, heating the water to boiling point, then suddenly cooling it into needles of ice, then vaporizing it again into mist.

  This chaotic cycle of water's changing states created an optical phenomenon—a mirage.

  In Muro's eyes, suddenly, there were five figures of the First Princess standing around him. All five of them were poised to attack. Muro did not hesitate; he charged at the figure in front of him, thrusting his lava staff through the girl's chest.

  But his staff only struck empty air. The figure vanished like smoke.

  A hard blow landed on Muro's back. The real Sirra appeared from behind, her palm covered in condensed fire. The blow was not meant to burn—because Muro was immune to fire—but to cause a kinetic explosion. Muro was pushed two steps forward.

  Muro slammed both staffs into the ground. Magma Eruption. The floor exploded, spewing pillars of lava.

  ?Sirra did not retreat. Instead, she darted into Muro's range of attack. Her body moved smoothly, dodging the pillars of lava as if she were part of the steam itself. When one pillar of lava was about to hit her, she created a mirror of water in the air, refracting her shadow to the left, while her real body rolled to the right.

  Muro was fooled again. He attacked the shadow on the left, destroying the stone pillar into pieces.

  Sirra seized the opening, pressing her palms together.

  Mist Style: Hellish Steam Prison.

  She released a large wave of water that immediately enveloped Muro's burning body. The thermal reaction was brutal. The water, which had been heated to thousands of degrees, exploded into high-pressure steam in the enclosed space.

  Muro roared, not because of the pain on his skin, but because of the air pressure crushing his eardrums and lungs. His magma armor began to crack due to thermal shock—the repeated drastic changes in temperature from hot to cold.

  Sirra continued to press forward. She danced around Muro, creating illusion after illusion. Sometimes she looked like a giant, sometimes she disappeared completely. Every time Muro tried to strike, he only hit shadows. Meanwhile, Sirra continued to rain down on Muro's weak points with water bullets as sharp as diamonds.

  Blood began to drip from the cracks in Muro's armor. For the first time, the giant appeared cornered. His physical superiority and destructive power were being neutralized by cunning and manipulation on the battlefield.

  However, stamina was the greatest enemy of users of complex magic. Sirra's breathing became heavy. Maintaining the mirage in the midst of this hellish heat drained her concentration. Cold sweat poured down her face, her vision occasionally blurring.

  Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  Muro, a sensitive war veteran, sensed the decrease in the tempo of the attack.?

  “Are you tired, Princess?” Muro taunted.?

  Muro stopped chasing the shadow. He did something unexpected. He joined his two short sticks together to form one long stick. Then, he stopped moving. He let Sirra's water attack hit his body.?

  His armor hissed, his skin blistered, but he didn't flinch. He focused all his energy on the core of his staff. The staff changed color from black to a dazzling white.?

  Sirra realized the danger. She tried to retreat, creating an illusion of herself running away to lure Muro.?

  But Muro was not fooled again. He did not use his eyes. He felt the vibrations in the ground. Optical illusions could deceive the eyes, but body weight could not be faked.?

  Muro turned his staff vertically, then slammed it into the ground with full force.?

  Lava Style: Seismic Shock.

  This was not a fire attack; it was an earthquake. Shock waves rippled through the stone floor, ignoring all visual illusions.

  Sirra, who was hiding behind a pillar of mist, was thrown violently. Her balance was destroyed. Her concentration was shattered. In an instant, all the mist and mirage shadows disappeared, revealing her true position as she coughed up blood on the ground.

  Muro wasted no time. He shot forward at a speed terrifying for a body his size. Before Sirra could summon water to defend herself, Muro's huge hand was already around her neck, lifting her slender body into the air.

  Sirra's legs kicked at the air. She tried to burn Muro's hand with her fire element, but the small flame was meaningless to the lava master.

  “Nice trick,” said Muro, bringing his terrifying face close to Sirra's.

  From the shadows of the ruins, Mirra watched, trembling. Her legs felt boneless. She saw her sister—her shield—dangling helplessly in the monster’s grasp.

  Tears streamed down her face. She wanted to run. Her primal instincts screamed to flee. She was just a girl who had only recently learned to spark fire at her fingertips. What could she do?

  But her sister's choked voice shattered her fear.

  “Let go... my sister!” she screamed. Her voice cracked and broke.

  Mira charged forward, stumbling and desperate. She snatched up a rock and hurled it at Muro, but it bounced harmlessly off his armor.

  Muro turned slowly, looking at Mira with a bored expression. He was still clutching Sirra's neck, whose face was now turning blue.

  “Ah, little one,” Muro muttered. “Wait for your turn.”

  Mira refused to give up. She lifted her hands, recalling her teacher’s lessons: Focus. Find the heat inside. Let it go.

  A fireball the size of a fist, dim and trembling, shot from Mira's hand. It was basic magic. Beginner-level magic. The fireball struck Muro's back and... simply shattered. Leaving only a small scorched mark. No pain, no effect.

  Muro laughed. A thunderous, mocking laugh. “Fire? You're attacking lava with a candle?”

  He tightened his grip around Sirra's neck. A soft crackling sound echoed. The Elder Sister's eyes turned white.

  Seeing that, Mira's world seemed to collapse. Her mind went blank. Logic vanished. All that remained was one pure and absolute desire: I must take my Sister away from here. Anywhere. Far away from here!

  An unfamiliar heat spread through her spine. It wasn't the usual fire she trained with, but something older. The noble blood in his body surged in response to her owner's despair.

  She didn't chant a spell. She didn't know the spell. She just screamed, stretching her arms toward her brother and Muro.

  The space between Mira and Muro distorted. The air crackled as glass pressed too hard. The colors around them were sucked into a single point of pitch black that appeared right behind Muro's back.

  Muro's eyes widened. He felt an unreasonable gravitational pull. It wasn't the wind, but the space itself that was folding.

  “What is this—?!”

  The portal was unstable. Its shape was rough, its edges jagged with wild flashes of purple energy. The gaping hole in reality pulled everything near it with tremendous vacuum force.

  Muro, who was heavy and sturdy, tried to stick his staff into the ground. But Sirra, who was in his grasp, was also pulled along. Startled and losing his balance due to the vacuum pull, Muro's grip loosened.

  Sirra's body broke free, sucked toward Mira, who stood at the edge of the distortion. The younger sister caught her limp older sister's body, hugging her tightly.

  However, the portal did not close. The portal was hungry.

  The pull grew stronger. Mira's feet lifted off the ground. They could not resist this current.

  “No!” Muro roared. He reached out his hand, trying to grab their legs, wanting to pull them back. The tips of Muro's burning fingers were only inches away from Mira's clothes. He had been ordered to capture the princesses; he couldn't let them escape again.

  “Go!” Mira cried out through her tears.

  A final surge of energy burst from her, blasting Muro away. The shockwave flung Mira and Sirra into the swirling darkness of the portal.

  Instantly, the hole shrank to a small point of light, then disappeared. Silence.

  Muro stood alone in the middle of a vast field. His hand was still outstretched, grasping at empty air. Dust settled slowly around him. The two princesses were gone, as if they had never been there, leaving the monster growling angrily at the emptiness of the early morning.

  But something happened to him. He felt something moving inside his body, something burning. It felt like it was writhing, spreading throughout his bloodstream. When he tried to scream, he choked, as if his vocal cords had disappeared.

  He could feel his bones melting, his blood boiling, his skin blistering. Muro took a step forward, his left hand falling to the ground. The skin on his face peeled off, melting just as badly as the rest of his body. His right eye fell out, rolling to the ground. His left eye had already melted before leaving its socket.

  With what remained of his consciousness, Muro reached out into the air with his remaining hand, hoping someone would help him. Then he fell, face down on the ground, which hissed from the intense heat.

  Slowly, his form dissolved, powerless. With a final breath, he disappeared.