Chapter 245: The Escalating Duel
The smile on Flamme's face froze entirely, and the fruit in her hand fell to the grass with a soft thud.
An invisible tension, taut as a drawn bowstring, filled the air between the resting travelers.
The fallen fruit at Flamme's feet seemed to be the spark that finally ignited this bizarre atmosphere.
She looked at Serie, whose expression remained indifferent, the elf's mocking words still echoing in her ears. Then she looked at Rhodes, who had made no move to reject the embrace. The courage Flamme had been accumulating for days, combined with her surging affection, finally broke through her last shred of hesitation.
But she did not choose the most violent path.
She took a deep breath, picked up the fruit, and wiped away the dirt. Pulling a handkerchief from her robe, she carefully spread it on the ground and placed the fruit upon it.
Only after completing this ritual did she look up at Master Serie, who was still holding Rhodes. Her eyes were filled with absolute resolve. Even her tone unexpectedly took on a formal, challenging edge.
"Master Serie," she said, her voice clear. "I have always admired your power above all else. I have regarded you as the ultimate goal on the path of magic. Today, your apprentice, Flamme, wishes to request a duel."
She deliberately used the word "duel"—a sparring match—attempting to cloak this conflict in the reasonable guise of a master-apprentice evaluation.
But her eyes, her clenched fists, and the mana fluctuations that began to involuntarily ripple around her body all betrayed her true intent.
She was going to use her own power to prove to this seemingly insurmountable peak that she was qualified to stand by Master Rhodes's side—and even fight for him.
Ela's face paled instantly. She started forward, intending to stop Flamme's suicidal behavior, but a single glare from Serie froze her in her tracks.
She could only frantically signal Flamme with her eyes, trying to get her to retract her insane declaration.
Even Frieren sensed that something was wrong with the atmosphere.
Rhodes frowned.
Flamme's brain had likely been fried by love. She had eaten too many red beans and was suffering from lovesickness.
He was about to speak, but Serie reacted before him.
She looked at Flamme. There was not a ripple of emotion in her gaze, only a pure, absolute coldness.
"A duel?" Serie repeated the word, her tone devoid of joy or anger. "How do you wish to duel?"
Serie's overly calm reaction caused Flamme's heart to tighten, but the arrow had already left the string; there was no turning back.
Forcing down the trepidation in her heart, she raised her voice. "Naturally, in the manner of mages! Please instruct me, Master!"
"Good!" Serie chuckled lightly, voluntarily releasing Rhodes from her embrace.
The group immediately retreated, clearing a space for the two.
"You are even more foolish than I imagined," Serie remarked, watching Flamme assume a combat stance.
Before her words even faded, Flamme's mana erupted!
Flamme knew well that against Serie, probing attacks were futile. Only by going all out from the very start was there even a sliver of a possibility... that she could make the elf see her determination.
She thrust her staff forward. Instantly, countless spears of light, condensed with destructive energy, materialized in the air. They tore through the atmosphere, stabbing toward Serie with terrifying speed.
This single strike already exceeded the full power of an ordinary Great Mage.
Yet, facing this violent barrage capable of piercing solid rock, Serie merely raised her hand casually, her fingers spreading in the air.
There was no complex magic circle. The fluctuation of mana was barely perceptible.
A solid mana shield instantly appeared in the path of the light spears.
BOOM—!!!
A deafening explosion echoed through the forest.
Violent energy turbulence splashed wildly in all directions, scorching patches of the surrounding grass black.
However, the seemingly fragile shield did not budge. Not even a ripple appeared on its surface.
The terrifying spears of light crashed against it, dissipating into harmless sparks after expending their energy in vain. They could not advance a single inch.
Flamme's pupils contracted. Although she had mentally prepared herself, seeing her full-strength attack neutralized so effortlessly still caused an indescribable shock.
Master Serie's power was simply too overwhelming.
"Too weak," Serie's cold voice rang out, sounding exactly like one of her daily lectures. "The mana condensation was too rushed. Energy dissipation exceeded twenty percent. Your control is lacking. It is merely flashy."
Her critique was precise, perfectly pointing out the flaws in Flamme's magic.
"I am not finished!" Flamme gritted her teeth. She fully released her mana, and more magic circles lit up around her body.
In an instant, high-ranking spells of every color poured down upon Serie like a torrential storm.
Flamme was using every drop of her mana, casting every offensive spell she had mastered without reservation. The entire forest was engulfed in the violent turbulence of magic.
Ela, terrified, had already dragged Frieren back several times. The space they had initially cleared was no longer sufficient, and the shockwaves of the battle continued to expand.
Frieren's eyes were wide, her small mouth hanging slightly open as she watched the insane magical bombardment.
Facing Flamme's full liberation, Serie finally began to get serious.
This apprentice's path in magic was far more exceptional than she had imagined.
But it is not enough.
With every wave of her hand, a corresponding counter-spell appeared silently, neutralizing Flamme's attacks one by one.
Rhodes watched the escalating "spar," his expression growing increasingly grave.
Two magic circles were currently active in his hands—shield spells he had quietly cast on both of them to prevent injury.
But as the magic wielded by Flamme and Serie grew stronger, Rhodes began to doubt whether his shields would hold.
It should be fine, he comforted himself.
He had confidence in Serie's strength. She could easily defeat Flamme, forcing the girl to recognize the gap between them and dispelling her unrealistic fantasies.
But for some reason, a bad premonition lingered in his heart.
On the field, Flamme's breathing grew ragged. Her mana was depleting rapidly, and fine beads of sweat coated her forehead.
She felt as though she were fighting a god. All her attacks sank into the ocean, easily dissolved by her opponent. She could even see the relaxed ease on Master Serie's face.
Is the gap truly this wide?
A deep sense of powerlessness threatened to swallow her.
"Why... why is it still not enough!"
She whispered unwillingly. Then, as if making a final decision, she dropped her staff and squeezed out every last drop of her remaining mana in a desperate gamble.
"Master Serie! Please be careful! This is... a magic I created myself!" she warned, her voice hoarse.
As she channeled her mana, an extremely complex but highly unstable giant magic circle instantly unfolded above her head. The spell caused the mana in the surrounding space to vibrate violently.
It was a spell Flamme had only recently created—the highest tier of magic she could currently touch. Although incomplete, its power was terrifying.
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