Spirit Kings!

In the outskirts of Dreadhaven, where the land was barren and harsh, Prince Lórien stood tall, facing Scarlett. The wind swept over the dirt, and the air felt heavy with tension. They were near the same cave where Scarlett had once tested her nuclear magic. With almost no trees and only cracked, dry ground beneath their feet, it was a fitting battleground for what was about to unfold.

For Lórien, this was the first time he laid eyes on Scarlett, and her mere presence seemed to shake the core of his confidence. He had always been sure of his strength, but something about her unnerved him. He couldn't tell if he would emerge victorious or meet his defeat.

In the distance, notable figures like Li Feng, Baron, Cryptus, and others watched with interest. Their gazes were like silent judgments on the upcoming duel. Lórien couldn't help but feel uneasy, unsure if they were allies of Scarlett or if they had simply struck some sort of truce with her. Either way, he knew there was no backing down now. His pride and honor as a prince demanded he fight.

"I shall punish you for poisoning the innocent students," Lórien declared, raising his sword and pointing it at her, his voice steady despite the weight of the moment.

"Poison?" Scarlett's brow furrowed in confusion. But then her expression hardened as she realized what was going on. It had to be Leonidas's doing, not hers. A flicker of annoyance crossed her features, but she refocused on the task at hand.

Lórien took a firm stance, and suddenly, a pure white aura began to form around him. It wasn't magic or mana in the usual sense—it radiated from something deep within him, something powerful and pure. Scarlett's eyes widened as she saw it.

"A noble soul…?" she whispered, her voice laced with surprise.

Lórien possessed a noble soul—a rarity in their world, something so unique that it occurred only once in a million. The aura of a noble soul could signify inner purity, strength, and righteousness, but Scarlett wasn't impressed. What good was a noble soul to her? What she truly sought was a fallen soul, one corrupted and twisted by darkness. To her, a noble soul was a mere curiosity.

Her eyes narrowed with determination. She didn't care for his purity or noble ideals.

With a subtle exhale, she released her aura, letting it flow freely for the first time. Without even opening her eyes or removing her blindfold but still the overwhelming force of her energy began to ripple through the air. The sheer power of it, unfiltered and raw, caused the ground to tremble beneath her feet.

Lórien, who had been charging at her, suddenly felt an invisible weight crash down upon him. It was as if a mountain had dropped from the heavens, pressing him into the earth. His legs buckled under the crushing pressure, and he fell to his knees, gasping for breath.

"Such power..." he muttered through gritted teeth, his face twisted with the strain of resisting her aura.

Scarlett snorted in disdain. "You were no match for me from the start." She took one calm, deliberate step forward, and the pressure on Lórien doubled instantly. His entire body shook as he tried to hold himself up, but the force was too great. He knew, instinctively, that if she took another step, it would be the end of him.

"I guess I'll have to use my trump card from the start," he murmured to himself, his voice barely audible through the pain.

With trembling hands, Lórien drew his sword—a gleaming white jade blade with a large red gem embedded in the hilt. It seemed to pulse with life, almost as if it had its own heartbeat. Wasting no time, he pressed the sword against his own chest and, in one swift motion, plunged it deep into his flesh. The blade pierced straight through his torso, stopping in the center of his chest.

He let out a scream of pure agony. The onlookers gasped in shock, horrified by the sight of Lórien seemingly impaling himself. But Scarlett remained unfazed. She had seen this before, or rather, she had been warned about this. Leonidas had mentioned something to her before leaving, something about Lórien's hidden power—his connection to the warlord.

The moment the blade pierced him, a bright white light erupted from Lórien's body, and a new energy surged through him, far more powerful than before. The ground beneath him cracked as an overwhelming aura began to radiate from his form. Slowly, his body started to change.

His ears elongated, growing into the distinct shape of an elf's. His waist narrowed, and his figure slimmed down. Within moments, his chest expanded, transforming into two distinct pairs of breasts. His entire appearance shifted, and in the blink of an eye, Lórien was no longer a man.

Standing where he had been was now an elf woman dressed in a green elven battle costume. But it wasn't just his physical form that had changed—his entire presence, his very essence, was different. The soul that now stood before Scarlett was someone else entirely.

A voice, calm yet powerful, echoed in Scarlett's mind as she read the title before her:

<Name: Lortell Beatrix>

<Title: Warlord>

Scarlett stood unwavering as Lortell Beatrix's chilling voice pierced the air, "Do you accept this duel?"

In that instant, Leonidas' words echoed in Scarlett's mind. He had warned her, "When Lortell Beatrix challenges you, don't accept. If you say yes, her unique power will trigger, locking all of your mana for the duration of the battle. Say no, and the same thing happens. The only way to keep your mana is to remain silent and attack."

Despite the warning, a wicked smile curled across Scarlett's lips. How could she resist such a challenge?

"Yes, I accept!" she declared without hesitation.

Immediately, a notification flashed in her mind:

<Notification: Conditions Met>

<All mana has been locked down>

Warlord Beatrix's lips twisted into a mischievous grin as she lunged toward Scarlett with blinding speed. Before Scarlett could react, Beatrix was beneath her, driving a powerful punch into her abdomen. The impact sent Scarlett flying into the air, her breath knocked from her lungs.

In mid-air, Beatrix pursued, leaping upward and slamming both fists together for a devastating strike. Scarlett's body plummeted toward the ground, crashing into the dirt with bone-jarring force. The impact was so severe that her body bounced from the ground, yet through the pain, that same menacing smile lingered on her face.

Lying on the ground, Scarlett's laughter filled the air. "Disappointing... utterly disappointing," she taunted, her voice laced with dark amusement. She rolled onto her side, wiping blood from her lips. "This isn't even close to the power of lunatic. Is this really what a warlord can do?"

Beatrix, glaring down at her opponent, prepared for her next move.

Beatrix stood tall, glaring down at her opponent, determination burning in her eyes. With a deep breath, she began channeling her mana, her voice echoing through the air. "Wind Spirit King, Mahazael," she called out, her voice firm and filled with authority.

A glowing magic circle appeared beside her, humming with power. Being an elf, her bond with nature was strong, making summoning spirits a part of her natural abilities. But this was no ordinary feat. Summoning a Spirit King required an enormous amount of skill, focus, and raw power, yet Beatrix wasn't stopping with just one.

Without missing a beat, she raised her arm again, her fingers tracing invisible patterns in the air as three more magic circles formed around her, each glowing with a different elemental energy. "Fire Spirit King, Azazel! Earth Spirit King, Samael ! Water Spirit King, Azrael!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with an undeniable sense of control and power.

One by one, the four Spirit Kings materialized before her. Though they appeared in the form of women, their bodies were ethereal, composed entirely of light and energy, each glowing in vibrant hues that represented their elements. The Fire Spirit King radiated a fierce orange flame, while the Water Spirit King shimmered in a deep blue glow. The Earth Spirit King stood tall, her form pulsing with the energy of the earth, and the Wind Spirit King glowed with a soft, airy light, almost as if her very body was made of the wind itself.

Their presence was overwhelming, cosmic, like beings from another realm. Beatrix could feel the weight of their power, but she stood her ground, ready to command the elements themselves.