The Spirit Said, 'You're Unworthy as My Master, Cancel the Contract!' So I’ll Give It to My Sister Who Wants It - Episode 1.16

“Now that Lord Shaitan has returned, we can use that magic power! Lady Ariel, Lord Shisha, defeat him with all the magic you have!”

Alisha abandoned her chivalrous demeanor and shouted. She could not afford to hold back. Allowing the useless Mistia to bring her to her knees was absolutely unacceptable. Forgetting her usual graceful act, Alisha ruffled her hair in frustration.

(What is this?! What’s going on!? Mistia wasn’t supposed to be able to use magic. Could it be that this spirit is special?)

“Understood. I will bring you victory,” Ariel reassured her with a smile. Shisha, too, silently stepped forward.

“Everyone, I believe in you.”

It was as if a band of heroes were standing against the Demon King. However, they were nothing more than fledgling warriors who had just left their starting village. Watching their theatrical display, Skia let out a small chuckle, lowering his golden eyelashes.

“You relied too much on Mistia. There’s no way I would lose to you.”

At the mention of Mistia’s name from Skia’s lips, Ariel frowned. A dark jealousy bubbled within him.

“Don’t say her name so casually! Water!”

“Wind!”

Both were basic spells of water and wind magic. Alisha had spoken of using all their magic, but she was only capable of casting basic spells. Ariel and Shisha, however, poured large amounts of magic power into multiple spells aimed at Skia. This was the strongest attack they could muster. After seeing Shaitan fall so easily, they knew better than to hold back.

“I’m a little surprised. A spirit, yet you’re skilled with a sword. But can you withstand a coordinated magic attack of this scale?”

As the attacks landed, a thick cloud of steam filled the air, blurring the snow dome into a foggy haze. Ariel smirked. He briefly thought it might be unfortunate for Mistia, but if they could defeat Skia and expose Mistia’s lack of power, a rift between them would surely form—such sweet fantasies made his heart dance.

“How disappointing.”

A quiet voice echoed.

Ariel’s eyes widened in shock. Impossible. They had used enough magic to nearly drain Alisha’s reserves. There was no way an inexperienced Mistia could have defended against it.

“Even as a traitor, is this really all the former spirit of Mistia can do? Ah, perhaps it’s because his master is weak.”

A gust of wind blew, clearing the fog that had filled the snow dome. Standing there, completely unscathed, was Skia. Even Shisha, who had maintained an expressionless composure, showed signs of distress.

“Water Prison—Water Circle.”

Skia cast another spell. From beneath Ariel’s feet, water appeared out of nowhere and encased him in a sphere. He was trapped in a water prison, unable to move.

(I can breathe, but I can’t use magic! Damn it… to think I’d lose to water magic!)

As a water spirit, Ariel could breathe within water, meaning he wouldn’t die. But no matter how much he struggled, he couldn’t break free from Skia’s magic. He was out of the fight.

“Wind Enhancement—Wind Enchant.”

Skia ran a finger along the blade of his sword. A condensed storm-like wind wrapped around the blade, accelerating its speed. If a human were to be struck by that sword, they would be torn apart. But what about a wind spirit?

“I’ve never tried this before… I wonder if the wind spirit Sylph can survive this attack?”

A dark smile.

(Eek!)

Standing behind Skia, Mistia screamed internally. From the start, everything her spirit had been doing seemed rather ruthless. He was utterly destroying the pride of these upper-level spirits, one by one. Skia, effortlessly wielding magic outside his own attribute, had become the center of everyone’s attention.

Watching the battle anxiously, Mistia wiped her sweat in her mind. Then, Shisha stepped forward and raised both hands.

“…I yield.”

Skia raised an eyebrow. Lowering his sword to avoid the wind’s interference, he asked, “Did you say something? I couldn’t hear you.”

“I surrender.”

Silence fell over the area.

Shisha’s surrender—this meant… Mary, watching from outside the snow dome, smirked.

“Lady Alisha Redfield, your spirit has surrendered. Do you accept?”

Alisha, in shock, collapsed to her knees. Lowering her head, she muttered under her breath.

“Surrender… Impossible. I… I…”

Alisha glared daggers at Shisha’s back, clenching her fists and trembling with anger.

“Lord Shisha! Why would you surrender?! Are you trying to disgrace me?!”

“The difference in strength is clear. If you took that wind magic head-on, you wouldn’t come out unscathed.”

“Then protect me with magic!”

“That was an intermediate-level spell. You lack the power to use protective magic.”

“Are you dumping everything on me? Can’t you do at least that much as an upper spirit?!”

Shisha had plainly stated her lack of skill. In frustration, Alisha even forgot to use polite speech. The spectators murmured among themselves at their argument. Mary shrugged at the scene.

Skia, too, had no more use for the wind magic he had charged, so he released it toward the ceiling of the snow dome. The intense wind struck the barrier and dispersed into glittering light.

“Ah, indeed. When swung hard enough, it does sparkle.”

A voice from nowhere. Like a child’s harmless prank, the whimsical sight eased the tension, quieting the confused students. Mistia marveled at Skia’s ability to control the mood so perfectly.

(He’s good at everything, and he understands people so well. I can’t compete with him.)

“Lady Alisha, since your spirit has no will to fight, this is the only option. Or would you like to take up a sword and fight yourself?”

“…”

“Silence will be taken as forfeiture. This match goes to Lady Mistia Redfield!”

A cheer erupted.

It was a cheer that unmistakably welcomed the victor. Mistia blinked in disbelief. Until now, she had only heard insults and jeers. Never before had so many people celebrated her victory. Slowly, Skia turned around, sheathing his sword, and knelt before Mistia.

“This is your victory.”

Though she wasn’t sad, the moment she heard those words, hot tears spilled from Mistia’s eyes. Her chest tightened, and she couldn’t speak. The scene, resembling a holy knight kneeling before a princess, drew envious gazes from noble ladies. Regaining some composure, Mistia roughly wiped her tears.

“It’s all thanks to you, Skia.”

She reached out a slender, pale hand. Skia lifted his face, meeting Mistia’s gentle smile. Drawn to that pure expression, he took her hand.

That day, a new special student was born at the Asteria Royal Magic Academy.