There was a strange tension in the air after Morgan made her announcement.
She looked around the room, expression calm but teasing. "When you guys are done staring into space," she said, "I'll meet you at the training grounds."
Marek's jaw dropped. "How?! She's literally a Guildmaster! There's no way we can fight someone of that caliber!"
Zerathose glanced at him, then at the rest of the ragtag group. He sighed and said, "Okay, so here's what we're going to do…"
About fifteen minutes later, Morgan was still waiting at the training grounds. She had gotten completely absorbed in one of the books she was reading.
"Hmm… not bad," she muttered, flipping through the pages. "I like how he handled that one. Now that was clever."
She sensed the group's approach and calmly closed the book. It vanished into thin air.
A mage of her level could easily store such items in a space called Extra Space—a fourth-dimensional storage area that only the creator could access.
Kagetsuchi, Marek, and Arashi stepped onto the field. Zerathose, however, was noticeably missing.
Morgan raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Did your little friend run off? Too scared to fight?"
Marek stepped forward, fists clenched. "That doesn't matter." He took three determined steps forward. "This time… I will beat you."
She let out a short laugh. "Is that so, little bro? You've tried to fight me countless times—and lost just as many."
"True," Marek admitted, his voice steady. "But that's not going to happen this time. I've been training for this day. And I will get that license."
Morgan's smirk widened as the wind tousled her hair. "Is that so? Alright then. Here are the rules."
She held up a hand and raised two fingers. "Only two: knock me out of bounds—or incapacitate me. That's it. Think you can handle that?"
Marek gave a fierce grin. "That's all I needed to hear."
He charged first.
Slamming his hands onto the ground, thick vines tore from the earth, erupting toward Morgan at breakneck speed.
She narrowed her eyes. What's he trying to do? she thought.
Just as the vines latched onto her arm—that very instant—Kagetsuchi appeared right in front of her.
Morgan's eyes widened. Teleportation? Spatial magic? That's rare…
Before she could react, Kagetsuchi had already channeled mana into her fist—and delivered a solid blow to Morgan's abdomen with a sharp, resounding thud.
Kagetsuchi was never one for flashy declarations—but her ability spoke for itself.
Phase Blink.
An innate spatial ability so refined, it let her dance between the edges of reality itself. She could move in ways others couldn't follow—warping space, folding distance, and striking from impossible angles.
It wasn't just teleportation. It was something deeper. More instinctual. More dangerous.
Few ever saw it coming. Fewer still could react in time.
But Kagetsuchi wasn't done.
The moment her fist connected, she vanished again—warping out of the material plane like a glitch in reality. The ground pulsed, and suddenly, the air around Morgan shimmered with distortion.
One Kagetsuchi became two.
Then four.
Then eight.
Space Clones. A rare extension of her Phase Blink, these weren't illusions. Each was a fragmented echo of her, pulled from warped timelines and compressed through the folds of bent space. Individually weaker than the original, but very real—and very dangerous.
They emerged from warped slashes in the air, moving in perfect sync, attacking from every angle like a coordinated swarm. Time twisted slightly around them, as if their presence bent causality itself.
Morgan narrowed her eyes, the grin fading from her lips. "So," she muttered, "she's using that already?"
Each strike from the clones was sharp, precise—warped fists and kicks aiming for pressure points, weak spots, and blind angles. They phased in and out of visibility, some disappearing mid-swing, others blinking past Morgan's counters entirely.
It was a dizzying barrage.
But even as the clones attacked, Morgan's stance remained steady. Calm. Watching. Waiting.
Morgan staggered from Kagetsuchi's gut-punch, the force of it more than she expected.
But then—something shimmered.
A flicker in space, a ripple of warped light.
In a blink, Kagetsuchi was gone—and Arashi was already in her place.
"Tag," Arashi whispered, grinning inches from Morgan's face.
She reared back to blast her with a lightning surge—
Morgan instinctively raised her arms to block—
But they wouldn't move.
She froze.
The vines.
From earlier—Marek's spell. Subtle, thick, coiled around her arms just beneath the sleeves.
She'd shrugged them off as nothing. Now, they'd reactivated, tightened, and locked her stance at the worst possible time.
"No—!"
BOOM.
The lightning hit her dead-on, sending her skidding back in a crackle of white-hot arcs, smoke trailing from her boots.
The blast cleared.
Smoke curled in the aftermath of Arashi's attack. For a moment, all was still.
Marek's eyes lit up. "No way… did we actually get her?"
Kagetsuchi smirked faintly, panting. "That swap was perfect."
Arashi cracked her knuckles. "Told you she wouldn't see it coming."
They stood there, adrenaline still high, watching the crater. Silence stretched.
Then—"Is that all?"
The voice came from behind them.
Morgan stood perfectly fine, barely scuffed. Her expression was cool, almost bored.
The team turned in disbelief. Their moment of victory shattered.
She stepped forward, eyes glinting with quiet menace. "You did well. Coordinated. Clever." A slow smile crept across her face. "But let's be clear—this was never a real fight."
And then it happened.
The ground beneath them shimmered as an invisible field surged out from Morgan. Not magic. Something deeper.
Their bodies locked up—as if gravity itself grew heavy in their bones.
Marek's eyes widened in panic. "My… legs—what the hell?"
Kagetsuchi tried to phase, but fell to one knee. "No… it's not my mana—it's my body!"
Arashi clenched her fists, trembling. "She's… draining our strength?!"
Morgan walked past them slowly, as if admiring her own work.
"I don't just cast spells," she said calmly. "My ability manipulates physical potential. Muscles, stamina, even reflexes—I take what makes you move and press it down like clay."
One by one, they dropped. Muscles weak. Limbs heavy. Not paralyzed—just overpowered by the crushing absence of strength.
Morgan stopped in the middle of the field and turned to look at them.
"This is why you're not licensed," she said bluntly. "Because if this was a real mission…"
She snapped her fingers.
"…You'd already be dead."