Chapter 81: "Good" Game

Team N
Lilian Fraser
Nebra Silva
Fransiska Granvorka
Florian Halcourt

Florian adjusted his glasses, his sharp eyes reflecting the faint glow of his grimoire as he addressed his team. His tone was precise, clipped, and brimming with self-assuredness.

"I believe myself to be a very methodical person," Florian began, pacing in front of his teammates. "And that is why I intend to crush that irritating little sister of mine, once and for all, in my signature meticulous manner. She will finally understand where she belongs—beneath me."

Fani fidgeted nervously, brushing a strand of her long, silken hair back into place. "F-Florian," she stammered, her voice hesitant, "I understand t-that you m-may have p-personal issues with Z-Zoe, but w-we need to focus on w-winning."

"I am focused on winning," Florian replied, sighing as though the matter was trivial. "My primary objective—victory—is not influenced by my secondary one: subjugating my dear sister."

Yet inwardly, Florian seethed. The mere thought of Zoe, with her calm demeanor and infuriating smirks, sent a wave of irritation through him. She had been a thorn in his side for as long as he could remember, undermining his calculated superiority with her unflappable poise.

Composing himself, Florian stopped pacing and addressed his team with renewed focus. "The best way to win any match is through complete subjugation. Meticulous planning, rigorous execution, and total victory—this is the essence of my Blueprint Magic. Our strategy will revolve around controlling the battlefield with precision and shutting down Team M's movements entirely."

He glanced at Nebra, her grin as haughty as ever. "Nebra, your Mist Magic will provide a perfect screen to disrupt their vision and scatter their formation. Franziska, your Hair Magic can be used to create binding traps and barriers—work with Nebra to ensnare their movements."

Nebra flipped her hair dismissively. "Just make sure you're not in my way, Florian."

Florian ignored her and turned to Lilian Fraser, who sat silently with an enigmatic smile on her face. "Lilian, your Prism Magic will act as our heavy artillery. Once we've lured them into position, you'll unleash a devastating assault, forcing them to either surrender or be crushed."

Lilian gave a small, eerie laugh. "Crushing them sounds fun."

Florian clasped his hands behind his back. "And I will dictate the flow of battle with my Blueprint Magic, ensuring every piece falls into place. Lars Mertens, Cade Lynx, Cara Castro, and—" he paused, his lip curling slightly—"Zoe Halcourt will have no choice but to bow to our superior strategy."

…

It had been a quiet evening in the Halcourt estate, the air thick with tension as Florian and Lars sat across from each other, a chessboard between them. Their fathers, Ellion Mertens and Jugram Halcourt, watched with keen interest, their expressions unreadable.

Lars, even as a child, had a calm confidence that grated on Florian's nerves. His moves on the chessboard were fluid and unorthodox, dismantling Florian's meticulously constructed defenses with an almost cruel precision.

"You're predictable," Lars had said at one point, his voice smooth and matter-of-fact. "You rely too much on controlling the board. But control means nothing if you can't adapt."

Florian had clenched his fists under the table, trying to maintain his composure as Lars moved his queen into position. "Checkmate."

The word had been spoken softly, but it echoed in Florian's mind as if shouted. Lars leaned back in his chair, offering a small hand with a smaller, infuriating smile. "Good game."

Florian had reluctantly shaken his hand, the memory of Lars' calm gaze and confident voice burning into his mind. Even now, he could hear those two words—good game—mocking him.

…

"I refuse to let that happen again," Florian muttered, his voice low but resolute. "This time, Lars Mertens will be the one left speechless."

"And Zoe?" Nebra asked, her tone bored but tinged with curiosity as she inspected her nails. "What about your dear little sister?"

Florian's lips curled into a cold smile. "By the end of this match, she'll know her place."

…

Meanwhile, Team M stood next to the portal, making their final preparations. Cade adjusted the cuffs of his uniform, his Thread Magic grimoire glowing faintly. "Alright, everything's set. Let's get this over with."

Cara grinned, flexing her fingers as mana swirled around her. "Can't wait to see the look on their faces when we crush them."

Lars, however, seemed preoccupied. He turned to Zoe, his expression uncharacteristically serious. "Zoe, I need to talk to you."

Zoe blinked, caught off guard by his tone. "What is it?"

Lars placed a hand on her shoulder, his eyes sharp and calculating. "If you trust me, I can manipulate the course of this match so perfectly that your brother will kneel before you. But I need your full cooperation."

Zoe frowned, her gaze searching his face. "Why are you so serious about this?"

Lars hesitated for a moment before responding. "Because I can be meticulous when I need to be. And because I've set my sights on Frida. This match is about control. It's what I do best."

Without waiting for her response, Lars turned and stepped toward the portal. "I'll see you on the other side."

Zoe watched him go, her mind racing. She thought about Lars' words, about the way he always seemed to have a plan, and about her own complicated feelings toward her brother. Finally, she sighed and followed him, muttering under her breath, "Alright, Lars. I'll let this one play out."

…

"Team M vs Team N! Begin!" the capital mage said.

"Hair Magic: Tangle Barrier!" Fransiska cried, golden locks rushing forth from her hair like a powerful river to cover the crystal in an almost impenetrable barrier. The

"I-I'm here, r-right?" Fani yelled to Florian, though her voice lacked conviction.

"Perfect," Florian said, his voice calm yet edged with anticipation. His grimoire hovered beside him, glowing brightly as its intricate blueprint-patterned cover seemed to come alive. He raised his hands, commanding the battlefield with precision. "Blueprint Magic: Dynamic Trap Array!"

The arena's ground shimmered as glowing blue runes materialized, creating a web of interconnected traps designed to detect and subdue any enemy that entered their range. Florian's attention to detail was evident in every aspect of his magic, the audience marveling at the precision. But Lars, standing opposite, remained unfazed, his expression unreadable, his mind already three steps ahead.

Cade, positioned slightly behind Lars, was already weaving his magic into the fabric of the battlefield. His Thread Magic grimoire glowed faintly as radiant threads of mana spilled from his hands, invisible to all but the most perceptive. "Celestial Thread Magic: Resonance Weave," he murmured, his voice almost drowned out by the clamor of battle.

The threads spread subtly across the arena, embedding themselves into the environment. Cade's magic was more than area control—it was a silent siphon, drawing in the emotions of everyone present. The threads pulsed faintly, feeding on the tension, determination, and conflict emanating from both teams. Lars, who had anticipated this effect, gave Cade a sharp nod of approval before speaking.

"Cade, keep weaving. Let their emotions fuel your control. Zoe, engage Lilian. Keep her focused on you. Cara, focus on Fransiska and destabilize their defenses. I'll handle the rest."

Zoe hesitated, Lars' unusually serious tone throwing her off for a moment. But his earlier words rang in her ears. "If you trust me, I can make him kneel." She met his gaze, nodded sharply, and unsheathed her blade. Without hesitation, she sprinted toward Lilian, her movements sharp and purposeful.

Cara, brimming with energy, followed suit, her hands glowing with the volatile light of her Beast Magic as she barreled toward Fransiska's barrier.

Florian, observing the battlefield, smirked. "Predictable." His grimoire glowed once more as he called out, "Blueprint Magic: Hephaestus Golems!"

Dozens of small metal sentries materialized from glowing blueprints that hovered above his grimoire. The golems clanked to life, their metal bodies gleaming as they marched forward with a mechanical precision. Their target: Team M's crystal.

Lars, standing at the center of his team's formation, barely glanced at the advancing sentries. His own grimoire flared open, a regal light pouring from its pages as he invoked his spell. "Celestial Mind Magic: Mana Zone—Königlich Gedankenreich!"

A ripple of mana burst outward, the air growing dense and charged with an almost tangible pressure. From within the shimmering zone Lars created, spectral soldiers began to materialize, their forms made of pure mana. Each one moved with precision, intercepting the Hephaestus Golems and engaging them in battle. Metal clashed against mana in a symphony of strikes, but Lars didn't so much as flinch. Everything was proceeding as he had envisioned.

Nebra, standing beside Florian, tilted her head, her expression somewhere between amusement and exasperation. "You're putting an awful lot of trust in Fransiska's barrier and those little tin soldiers of yours," she remarked, her voice light but teasing.

Florian glanced at her, his normally stoic expression faltering for a split second as a faint blush crept across his cheeks. "Fransiska's barrier is just the first layer of defense," he replied, adjusting his glasses to mask his flustered state. "And my sentries are more than sufficient to counter Lars' strategy. But…" He paused, avoiding her gaze. "It wouldn't hurt for you to add a little chaos to their ranks."

Nebra smirked, brushing a strand of silver hair behind her ear. "Oh, I see. You want me to clean up your mess." Her tone was teasing, but the glint in her eyes suggested she was already considering her next move.

Florian's lips pressed into a thin line as he refocused on the battlefield. Still, he couldn't shake the flurry of emotions Nebra's presence stirred within him. Across the arena, Cade's threads pulsed faintly, drawing in the mounting tension between the two. Lars, aware of every emotional undercurrent on the field, allowed himself a small smile. This, too, was part of the plan.

On the far side of the arena, Cara reached Fransiska's barrier. Her grimoire hovered beside her, flipping to a glowing page as she called out, "Beast Magic: Rhino's Might!"

Her fists crackled with volatile energy as she slammed them into the barrier, sending shockwaves rippling across its shimmering surface. Strands of golden hair frayed and snapped under the onslaught, but Fransiska gritted her teeth, her mana surging as she extended more strands to repair the damage.

"You won't break through that easily!" Fransiska shouted, her voice trembling but defiant.

Cara grinned, stepping back slightly as her energy surged. "Oh, we'll see about that."

Meanwhile, Zoe clashed with Lilian, the sound of steel meeting shimmering magic echoing across the arena. Lilian's Prism Magic created dazzling, multicolored shields that deflected Zoe's Piercing Shadows with an almost playful ease, but Zoe pressed on, her determination unyielding.

"Is that all you've got?" Lilian taunted, her tone exuding confidence as the grunette deflected another strike from Zoe with a prismatic sword. "You'll have to try harder than that, babe."

Zoe's grip on her paintbrush tightened.

She couldn't let him win—not without a fight.

…

Lars, watching from his vantage point, remained calm, every move unfolding as planned. Cade's threads continued to siphon the emotional energy coursing through the battlefield, amplifying the tension and fueling their strategy. Florian's irritation, Nebra's smirking confidence, Zoe's burning resolve, Cara's fiery energy—all of it was feeding into Cade's spell.

Lars smiled faintly, his voice a whisper only he could hear. "Control is my domain. And this match was decided the moment it began."

Iskra popped out beside him, the small humanoid celestial's voice twin. "The purpose of this was to draw out whispers of their Celestial Convergence, right?"

"For Zoe, anyways," Lars said, raising his hands. "But I don't think that Cara needs it. She'll get it in due time. And Cade, for all I know, already has it. Mind Wardens!"

Two at least 7 foot mana soldiers appeared beside Lars, their armour bulkier and more powerful-looking than usual, and began to carry the crystal, Lars taking up a leading position in front of them as they walked.

"Iskra," Lars said, "I must thank you. Without you, I wouldn't have been alive right now. I know I don't say it nearly enough."

To his surprise, however, Iskra cast her eyes towards the ground, and did not respond to Lars. Knowing that he wasn't gonna get any answers, the mind mage decided not to press whatever was bothering her.

"Let's go, in that case," Lars said, and without another words, ran in the direction of Team N's crystal.

The battlefield pulsed with raw magical energy as Lars led his small unit of Mind Wardens forward, their towering, shimmering forms moving in perfect harmony, each step calculated and deliberate. They carried the crystal between them with the grace and precision only magical constructs could possess, their ethereal presence making the air around them hum with anticipation. The power of Lars' Königlich Gedankenreich rippled through the atmosphere. Every fluctuation of his thoughts seemed to sway the very fabric of the battlefield, making it bend to his will as his zone expanded to envelop the area.

Cade stood within the zone, an almost palpable force of emotional energy. His Celestial Thread Magic had reached its full potential, the glowing threads now pulsing with the vibrant emotions of his companions. It was as though he was a living conduit, drawing on every flicker of energy from the others. Florian's calculated frustration, Fransiska's fleeting annoyance, Nebra's playful disdain, Zoe's fiery determination, and Cara's untamed wildness—they all wove themselves into the fabric of Cade's spell, feeding it, strengthening it. His threads began to shimmer and swirl around him like ethereal ribbons, drawing power from the tension rising between the combatants, steadily building toward an inevitable climax.

Lars shot Cade a brief glance, his lips curling into a confident smile. His control over the zone was flawless, his thoughts sharp and focused. "Stage two begins now," he murmured softly, a flicker of a command in his voice as he raised a hand.

Before Lars could issue his next order, Fransiska, clearly fed up with Cara's relentless barrage on her barrier, let out a sharp exhale, the sound laden with frustration. "Enough of this nonsense!" she declared, her voice laced with irritation. "Hair Magic: Golden Web!"

Without warning, her golden locks surged forward with a terrifying speed, twisting and weaving themselves into a dense lattice of threads that lashed out at Cara. The strands were like serpents, striking with precision, each strike accompanied by the sharp hiss of hair slicing through the air. Cara's Beast Magic crackled in response, her instincts kicking in as she used Prowler's Stride to leap and twist out of the way just in time, her Beast Magic surging with feral energy.

"You're more annoying than you're worth!" Fransiska snapped, her voice ringing across the battlefield.

Cara's lips curved into a smirk, a glint of defiance in her eyes as she barely avoided another strike. "Funny," she quipped, her voice laced with sarcasm, "I was just about to say the same thing about you!"

At that precise moment, Lars' spell flared into action, the mana within his zone flaring with a radiant, otherworldly brilliance. He spoke with commanding authority, his voice cutting through the chaos. "Virtual Insanity!"

The very air around them seemed to shimmer and warp. In an instant, everything on the battlefield dissolved into chaos, time and space twisting in an unnatural manner. The positions of every combatant shifted violently, throwing them into disorienting confusion. The sudden shift left the combatants blinking, disoriented, as they tried to reorient themselves, only to realize they were facing entirely new opponents.

Cade, now fully charged and brimming with emotional power, found himself standing opposite Lilian, his threads glowing brighter than ever, swirling around him like celestial ribbons.

Cara, much to her own surprise and Lars' slight miscalculation, now found herself face-to-face with Nebra, whose characteristic smirk only widened at the prospect of facing someone with a challenge.

Lars himself, along with Zoe, found themselves standing before Florian and Fransiska, both of whom were visibly rattled by the unexpected repositioning. The tension between them was palpable, both combatants clearly thrown off balance by the sudden twist in their fortunes.

From the spectator podium, Klaus leaned forward, his sharp gaze focused intently on the field. His eyes narrowed as he took in the unfolding spectacle. "Was your brother always this… conniving?" he asked Frida, his voice dripping with a mixture of incredulity and reluctant admiration.

Frida's jaw tightened, her silver hair catching the light as she glared at the field. Her irritation was barely contained, the energy radiating off her intense. "No," she spat, crossing her arms over her chest. "This is new. And it's infuriating."

Her frustration boiled over as she clenched her fist, slamming it into the ground with a force that left a noticeable dent in the stone beneath her. "Not only did he master Mana Zone," she muttered through gritted teeth, her voice thick with begrudging admiration, "he made it his own. That idiot is going to win. Again."

Back on the field, the tension only seemed to increase as Liora's voice rang out with a teasing lightness, breaking the stillness that had descended. "Oh, Zoe~!" Liora's celestial form materialized beside her mage, her voice playful and full of mischief. "I've been dying for you to try out that new spell I gave you! How about now?"

Zoe's grip on her sword tightened as she shot a glare at her magical partner. "Now? You're kidding, right? We're in the middle of—"

"Just trust me!" Liora interrupted with a sing-song tone, her eyes twinkling with a mischievous glint.

Zoe hesitated, her brow furrowing with frustration. With a reluctant sigh, she opened her grimoire. "Celestial Ink Magic: Tome of Dreams!"

The page began to glow faintly, and in response, a phantom book of shimmering ink appeared in her hands. Its ornate cover was adorned with celestial runes, but Zoe couldn't help but feel a pang of irritation. The book didn't seem to do anything at all.

"What is this supposed to—" Zoe began to ask, but Liora cut her off with her characteristic teasing tone.

"Wait for it~," Liora chimed, her voice maddeningly unconcerned. "Patience is a virtue, my dear."

Zoe's brow furrowed even more deeply, but she grudgingly complied, clutching the phantom book as she steeled herself for the next phase of the fight.

Lars, standing nearby, observed the scene, his gaze flickering toward Zoe for a moment. His expression became momentarily contemplative. Does she really want this win? he wondered, his thoughts sharpening like the edge of a blade. If she doesn't, she has no hope of truly connecting with Liora. This is her last chance to prove herself, to show that she can overcome her own doubts. If she hesitates now, she'll lose more than just the match.

Refocusing on the task at hand, Lars steadied his glaive and took a breath, his tone calm yet filled with rare gravity. "Zoe," he called, his voice cutting through the chaos. "You need to decide now. Are you ready?"

Zoe, still grappling with the swirling uncertainty in her mind, glanced at him. Her expression wavered for a moment, but then her determination flickered to life in her eyes, strong enough to cut through the doubts. "I'm ready."

Lars nodded, satisfaction flickering briefly across his face. He turned his gaze back to Florian and Fransiska, who were now fully engaged, their minds racing to adjust to the new order of things. Raising his glaive high, Lars' voice carried across the battlefield, clear and authoritative. "Good," he said, his words like a final command. "Then let's end this."

Without another word, he rushed at Florian, who summoned his signature weapon of choice from his grimoire - a beautiful golden halberd, and engaged Lars in a clash of weaponry. It seemed like he was enjoying this - at least, to Florian.

But when he looked up at the mind mage, all he could see was hollowness.

That same, empty hollowness that had been there when he played him in the chess match.

Florian cursed. "Fani! Leave the crystal behind!"

Fransiska, who had been parrying Zoe's blasts of ink, snapped her head towards Florian. "Are you i-insane? You want m-me to leave the c-crystal u-unguarded?"

"No," Florian said. "I want you to leave the crystal to me. I stake this whole battle on the fact that I'll defeat my sister. I've calculated every possible scenario."

And that's exactly why this plan of his won't work, Iskra chimed in Lars' head, who just nodded.

"In that case," Lars said, sending the mind wardens over to Zoe. They put down the crystal and dissipated, and Zoe used Binding Glyphs to secure it.

"Don't forget who you are," Lars said cryptically, then rushed off to engage Fani.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Zoe yelled, clearly irritated. But Lars was already clashing with Fani, his glaive cutting through thick strands of hair, while she retaliated with drill attacks shaped from her golden locks. They both seemed to be enjoying the thrill of battle to Zoe, but shed reconverged her focus on the Golden Dawn tactician.

Florian Halcourt. Her brother.

Normally he would be calm, composed, disdainful. But today he seemed… off, almost like something was grating on his nerves. His usually pristine gelled hair was starting to come apart at the seams, strands sticking out randomly like he had pulled them.

As Zoe faced Florian, the battlefield seemed to shrink around them, her brother's words cutting deeper than any blade. His golden halberd gleamed, radiating power as he stood in his immaculate Silver Eagles uniform. His expression, calm and condescending, stoked a fire of anger and doubt within her.

"You're as predictable as ever, Zoe," Florian sneered, effortlessly swatting away her ink tendrils with a casual sweep of his weapon. "All this effort, and you still can't even touch me. How pitiful. Is this the best the Blue Roses can muster, or did they just take you in out of pity? You'll never rise above mediocrity."

The words struck a raw nerve, reverberating through Zoe's entire being. Her ink magic lashed out again, driven by desperation, only to be countered with ease. Each failed attempt, each deflected strike, seemed to confirm his words. Her phantom grimoire shimmered faintly in her hands, a painful reminder of the potential she couldn't seem to reach.

"Why do you even bother?" Florian pressed, his voice calm yet laced with venom. "You've always been a disappointment. Always."

Zoe's fists trembled. She wanted to scream, to cry, to run. Instead, her brother's voice echoed in her mind, feeding into her doubts. He's right. I'll never be as strong as him. Why am I even here?

"Pathetic," Florian muttered, turning away as if she were no longer worth his time.

"Zoe, are you going to let him get away with that?" Liora's voice sliced through the fog of doubt, sharp and unrelenting. The phantom's tone was no longer playful but demanding. "If this is all you have, then maybe I was wrong about you. Maybe you don't deserve this magic."

"Shut up!" Zoe snapped, her voice cracking with frustration. Her chest heaved as emotions swirled within her—anger, fear, despair. Memories began to flood her mind.

She was a little girl again, standing in the shadow of her family's sprawling estate. Her mother, Lady Halcourt, loomed over her, a figure of cold, unyielding authority. The room was filled with jagged edges of steel—her mother's manifestation of Steel Magic, sharp and suffocating.

"You're a disgrace to the Halcourt name," her mother's voice echoed, biting and unforgiving. "Your father and I created this union to produce greatness, not… this."

Zoe's ink magic flickered weakly at her fingertips, a fragile contrast to the polished brilliance of her siblings. She felt small, insignificant, and utterly alone.

Yet, amidst the storm of criticism, there was one moment of light. Her father, Jugram Halcourt, had knelt before her one evening when the estate was quiet.

"Zoe," he said gently, his voice carrying the faintest trace of his foreign accent. His warm eyes met hers, filled with an earnest sincerity she had never seen before. "Our magic isn't just power. It's a bridge between your heart and the world you want to create. Ink magic is limitless, but it demands one thing—belief. Believe in your world. Believe in yourself."

The memory shattered her doubt like glass. The ink around her began to ripple, responding to the surge of emotion within her.

"No," she whispered at first, her voice trembling. Then louder, more resolute, "No."

Florian turned back to her, his calm expression shifting to one of surprise. The air around Zoe had changed, charged with a rising power.

"I am Zohava Halcourt!" she roared, the sound echoing across the battlefield. The phantom grimoire in her hands blazed with light, pages flipping furiously. "I've had enough of your condescension, your bitchiness! You don't know what I'm capable of!"

The ink swirling around her erupted into a vortex, forming intricate patterns in the air that shimmered with celestial light. Liora's voice rang out, now filled with approval. "Finally! Now we're talking, Zoe. Let's show him the true meaning of potential. It's time for our ideologies to align!"

The phantom book in Zoe's hands dissolved into pure energy, and Liora's celestial form merged with Zoe's body. Her transformation was nothing short of breathtaking. Ink-like constellations spread across her skin, glowing with radiant energy. Her hair lifted, streaked with silver and black, and her eyes shone with the brilliance of stars. She was surrounded by an aura of ink-dappled starlight, her magic pulsing with unparalleled intensity.

Celestial Convergence.

Florian's confident facade cracked as he stepped back. "What… what is this?"

Zoe smiled, her voice calm and filled with newfound confidence. "This is me wanting to win."

Elsewhere on the battlefield, Cade clashed with Lilian, his thread magic weaving intricate patterns in the air. Each thread pulsed with emotions—rage burned into fiery whips, sorrow flowed into torrents of water, and hope solidified into shields. Lilian countered with cold efficiency, her Prism Magic casting dazzling beams that sliced through his attacks.

Nearby, Cara struggled against Nebra's Mist Magic, which coiled around her throat like a suffocating serpent. "Is that all your Beast Magic can do?" Nebra taunted, her laughter echoing through the fog.

Lars stood apart from the chaos, his sharp eyes analyzing every move. When Zoe's transformation lit up the battlefield, he nodded in approval. "She's ready," he murmured to himself. "Now it's my turn."

With a deep breath, Lars raised his glaive. The air around him shifted, growing heavy with concentrated mana. He called out to Iskra, his celestial companion. "It's time."

A blinding light enveloped Lars as he activated his own Celestial Convergence. The battlefield stilled momentarily, the sheer force of his transformation radiating outward like a tidal wave. His glaive glowed with celestial fire, and his armor shimmered with an ethereal sheen.

Fani, his opponent, froze mid-attack. Her golden hair glinted in the light as she stared at him in awe. Then, a grin spread across her face. "Amazing," she said, excitement brimming in her voice. "You really don't hold back, do you?"

Lars smirked, his voice steady and filled with resolve. "Never," he replied, charging forward to meet her head-on. The battlefield erupted into chaos once more, the clash of celestial powers shaking the very ground beneath them.

Meanwhile, the air between Florian and Zoe seemed to crackle with tension as their battle intensified. Florian, his golden halberd gleaming in the dim battlefield light, moved with calculated precision, each strike aimed to corner and control Zoe. Yet, no matter how carefully he planned, something always seemed to go wrong.

A trap he had laid earlier refused to trigger, the mana glyphs flickering erratically before fading into nothingness. A chain of magical projectiles meant to pin Zoe down curved unexpectedly, veering harmlessly off-course. His brows furrowed in frustration, and he muttered under his breath, "Mana interference? But how? This shouldn't be possible."

Zoe, meanwhile, seemed to thrive in the chaos. Her movements, now fluid and confident, contrasted sharply with Florian's growing desperation. Each misstep he made only fueled her resolve. She swung her ink-forged blade with renewed ferocity, driving him back step by step. "You're wrong about me, Florian," she shouted, her voice carrying a raw edge. "I'm not the failure you think I am!"

Florian's expression twisted with anger. "You're delusional, Zoe! You've always been second-rate, and this spectacle changes nothing!" He lunged forward, aiming to regain control of the fight, but Zoe countered with a brutal overhead slash that sent him staggering back.

From Zoe's head, Liora's voice rang out, dripping with delight. "Oh, it's happening~! The Tome of Dreams is working perfectly!"

The truth of Liora's cryptic magic finally became clear. Tome of Dreams wasn't a direct offensive spell; instead, it subtly influenced the battlefield, tilting the scales of luck and fate in favor of its user. The stronger Zoe's desire to win, the more the spell ensured events unfolded in her favor. Each malfunctioning trap, each misstep Florian made, was a testament to her unyielding determination.

Realizing this, Zoe's confidence surged. "This is my moment," she thought, her grip tightening on her ink-forged weapon. Opening her grimoire once more, she invoked her most powerful spell yet, dropping her paintbrush onto the floor, it sinking into the ground. "Celestial Ink Magic: Abyssal Canvas!"

The battlefield transformed as inky blackness spilled from her spell, enveloping the area in a surreal, shadowy void. Within this space, everything felt weightless, and the ground beneath them seemed to ripple like liquid ink. Shapes and forms danced in the darkness, shifting and changing like a living painting.

Florian snarled, his frustration boiling over. "You think this will stop me? I'll tear through your tricks!" He charged, his halberd blazing with golden light, but Zoe was ready. In the ink-soaked void, she moved like a shadow, her attacks precise and unrelenting. Each clash of their weapons sent shockwaves rippling through the Abyssal Canvas, but Florian was clearly on the defensive.

"You can't control this fight anymore," Zoe said, her voice cold and steady. "Not here. Not against me."

Florian's anger only grew, his swings becoming wilder, his movements more desperate. "You're nothing but a failure! A disappointment!"

Zoe's eyes narrowed, her determination unshaken. "And you're just a bitter man who can't stand losing control." She raised her blade high, the ink around her surging in response. With a sharp cry, she slashed downward, the kanji for "blade" materializing in glowing ink before slamming into the crystal behind Florian.

The crystal shattered with a deafening crack, fragments scattering across the battlefield. The inky void dissipated, revealing Zoe standing tall over a seething Florian. Her expression was resolute, her breathing steady despite the effort she had poured into the battle.

Florian, on the other hand, was a picture of rage. His hands trembled, his face twisted in fury as he struggled to process his defeat. Memories of the chess match with Lars resurfaced unbidden, the sting of losing to his sister now magnified by the weight of his past failures. "Damn it! DAMN IT!" he roared, his voice echoing across the field.

Lars approached the scene, his presence calm and collected. He rested his glaive on his shoulder, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Good game, Florian," he said, his tone polite but laced with an edge of finality.

Florian's glare could have cut through steel. "You planned this," he spat, his voice trembling with barely-contained rage. "You manipulated everything, just like before."

Lars shrugged, his gaze unflinching. "Control is my domain," he said simply. "But this victory? It belongs to Zoe."

Zoe glanced at Lars, then back at Florian, her stance unwavering. "You'll never define me again," she said, her voice firm. "I'm not who you think I am. I never was."

As the battlefield fell silent, the spectators above watched in awe. Frida, her arms crossed and her expression unreadable, couldn't help but feel a pang of pride for her brother. "He's infuriating," she muttered under her breath, "he's fucking infuriating."

Klaus, standing next to her, chuckled softly. "That's Lars for you."

Frida shot him a look, but said nothing, her attention drawn back to the field where Lars and Zoe stood victorious, their presence commanding and undeniable. In that moment, it was clear to everyone watching: the tides of the Magic Knight squads were shifting, and Lars, Cade, Cara and Zoe were at the center of it all.

A/N: The celestial users strike back! And yes, to anyone wondering (which you probably weren't) Abyssal Canvas's execution is based on Byakuya's bankai (where he drops his sword and it sinks into the ground) Senbonzakura Kageyoshi.

"How is Abyssal Canvas a Celestial spell? Didn't she have it before?" you may be wondering (again, which you probably weren't).

All I wish to say is that magic is inherited (in every case except Lars's). If I say anything else, it's spoilers for what I have planned.