Kintovar found herself trapped iendrils' grip. Her options narrowed with the Headmaster’s asserting her own dominance over her.

  The Aqua Whirlwind barrier shattered and the psychidrils captured Roselle, Risebelle, and the unscious Runebelle. Panid despair washed over the two sisters.

  Roselle and Risebelle, caught within the clutches of the psychidrils exged panicked gnces.

  "Roselle!" Risebelle cried out. She trembled ohe tendrils tightened around her.

  "Risebelle!" Roselle echoed, her blue eyes wide with worry. She struggled hard against the grip of the tendrils.

  Meanwhile, Sybil's sword sliced through the psychidrils with remarkable ease. She was captured, but she was easily able to free herself from their grasp. Her trol over wind magic allowed her to push bay tendrils that attempted to ensnare her, giving her a unique advantage.

  ‘Sybil, you've always had a lical affinity than most,’ her inner self pondered. ‘So why you cut through the Headmaster's magic with such ease? Is this some kind of miracle?’

  She tio fend off the tendrils with her sword moving with a grad precision that defied her limited experieh it.

  ‘Could it be... a tent power awakening within me? ‘Sybil wondered. ‘I've always been different, always felt like there was something more to me thahe eye. Maybe it’s just the beginning, a glimpse of what I'm truly capable of.’

  Sybil felt a sudden surge of power c through her. Her hair fshed aqua and her eyes glowed with magical iy. It was a breathtaking sight, and Sybil couldn't help but marvel at the newfound strength that had surged within her.

  She swiftly dispatched the remaining tendrils, her movements now imbued with a grad power that felt almost otherworldly.

  "What... was that?" Sybil whispered to herself.

  Sybil's eyes, still aglow with newfound power, turoward the captive sisters.

  "It's not the time to wonder," Sybil decred with a newfound resolve. "I o free those three. “

  "I must say, Kintovar," the Headmaster admitted with a wry smile, "I didn't anticipate you'd be so bold as to e after me like this. Your resourcefulness is impressive, but you’ve proven how one slip-up be your undoing as a stist. You see, my Extreme Magic was a trap. The real target was right here, by my feet."

  The Headmaster gestured to the spot where she stood, and her yellow aura fred with renewed iy. It was clear that she had phis move meticulously.

  "But it seems you've figured out the trap," she tinued, "though you didn't realize where to strike. You were a fasating oppo, Kintovar."

  Kintovar's mind raced. She knew she was ensnared by the psychidrils and she o find a way out. She sidered all of her options but at the same time, the Headmaster's words came ringing in her ears.

  ‘I don't have any cards I py right this moment,’Kintovar admitted to herself. ‘But if my mind is destroyed, it's all over. I 't let that happen. If only I could…’

  Kintovar searched hard for a way out of the predit. She looked down and made o effort tle free but only tightehe grip.

  "This is it, Kintovar," the Headmaster taunted, her energy intensifying. "It's over for you. Say goodbye to your mind! Miru!"

  The psychisught surged forth, threatening to overwhelm Kintovar's mental defenses. It was a battle of wills, and Kintovar fought with every ounce of strength she could muster to resist the destructive force that sought to obliterate her sciousness.

  Despite her valiant efforts, Kintovar found herself overwhelmed by the relentless wave of power. In her mind, she pushed back against the torrent of energy, but it proved to be an insurmountable force. She could feel her mental defenses crumbling. Despair washed over her upon the loss of her mind.

  The Headmaster's dominance was too great and Kintovar's resistance began to falter. Her hands, which had been desperately pushing against the oning wave, trembled as they struggled to hold back the iable.

  Risebelle, trapped within the psychidrils, called out desperately, "Kintovar!"

  Roselle shouted, "Dr. Kintovar!"

  Sybil who had been on her way to rescue them came to a sudden halt. Her eyes widened in shock upon seeing Kintovar’s struggle against the Headmaster's overwhelming power.

  The sisters were still trapped. They were helpess at the moment and could only wat horror as an explosion of psychiergy enveloped Kintovar. Her uniform bore the scars of the intense mental battle, and she began to desd slowly, her mind utterly destroyed just like Becky's had been.

  Tears welled up in Roselle's i blue eyes and Risebelle's face twisted with anguish while witnessing the devastating oute.

  Sybil, overe with shod grief, rushed toward Kintovar's falling body, her heart heavy with the weight of their losses.

  As Sybil rushed over to Kintovar. She cried out in despair, "Kintovar, NOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

  Sybil reached Kintovar just in time to see her sungsses drop off, and her headphones began to release static, a dangerous sign. Without hesitation, Sybil snatched the headphones and flung them away before they could explode.

  The explosion echoed in the distance, but Sybil's quick thinking had averted further catastrophe. She turned her attention back to Kintovar, her heart heavy with grief.

  Sybil, her eyes filled with tears and frustration, shouted defiantly, "Kintovar 't die like this! We won't let her!"

  The Headmaster, still standing fidently looked at Sybil's curiosity. "'Sybil' was it? Sybil? Why have you turned against the Academy? With uidand without that teology, you could have been trained into a skilled wind mage, a true prodigy. You should have remained loyal instead of following this idiot around."

  Sybil respoo the Headmaster's questioning while trembling. "Headmaster, You ask why I've turned against the Academy? Because the Academy was going tainst me. For years, I struggled with my low-tier magic, barely able to jure a simple wind spell. The Academy's teag methods left me feeling worthless, like a failure destined for elimination."

  She tinued speaking stronger. She no longer quivered and with vi said, "The Academy always taught us that teology couldn't rival magic, that magic was superior, but then Kintovar came along with her teology and she showed us that there was more to this world than just magic. She gave me a ce to be more than what the Academy thought I could be."

  Sybil's eyes brimmed with tears, but she pushed on, "I sought out Kintovar, knowing that she might have me killed because I khat she might be my only ce to survive! I chose to embrace teology because it gave me a ce to be more than just a low-tier mage that the Academy would discard without a sed thought!"

  She looked back at Kintovar’s dying body, "I…..I won't let the Academy's narrow-mindedness win. We will find a way to save Kintovar!"

  Inside Kintovar's shattered mind, the words "game over" echoed relentlessly, like a haunting game s. The overwhelming assault had left her sciousness in tatters and it seemed like there was no way out of this seemingly endless loop of despair.

  But in the darkest ers of her sciousness, a flicker of her will remained. It was a tiny spark, almost extinguished, but it refused to die. It whispered to her.

  "Varta... Varta..."

  The voice called out to her, pulling her away from the abyss of despair. Slowly, memories began to coalesce around her, f a fragmented se of her past.

  She found herself in a small room with barely any light. The walls adorned with sketches and blueprints. A man with long e hair tied in a ponytail stood at a cluttered workbench. He wore a jacket and sungsses. His attire was all to familiar to her.

  "Varta, it's time for another day of teology," he said with a warm smile, his eyes filled with pride and affe.

  In the fragmented memory, Kintovar trembled but she questioned her father, "Father, what are you w on? “

  Her father was a bea of hope even in the face of their dire circumstances. He looked at her with a reassuring smile. "Ah, Varta. I've been w on something remarkable. My iion will be the oo free us from this wretched pce. Haha! They may have imprisoned us on this isnd, but they 't our minds or our creativity! We'll find a way out, and when we do, we'll show the world the power of teology!"

  He chuckled "Besides, who would've thought that we'd end up on an isnd with people who've never seen teology? Not only that, people who think Magic is superior. you believe this? It's like we’ve been transported in a whole different world. This is aing time for us stists! We’ll show these uneducated mages what teology is all about!"

  Kintovar soon found herself transported to a grim se. Her father, standing tall and resolute, faced a group of mages who wore the emblem of the Magical Academy. The tension in the room was in the air, and Kintovar could sehe gravity of the situation.

  The head mage spoke with authority. "Vartan, your execution has been scheduled for the 14 days."

  Kintovar's father, Vartan Kintovar, stared back at the mages with fusion. "Execution? What the hell is the meaning of this nonsense! I demand to know why I am beieo death!"

  The head mage remaioid offered no expnation. "You will be informed of the reasons iime. All you o know now is that your fate is sealed."

  Kintovar's father quivered with anger and desperation. "This is an injustice! I have itted no crime worthy of execution! You 't simply take my life without reason or a fair trial!"

  But his protests fell on deaf ears, and the mages began to escort him away, leaving Kintovar to watch helplessly as her father was dragged away to an uain fate.

  Tears welled up in Kintovar's eyes while reliving this painful memory. The injustice of her father's impending execution was etched deeply into her heart.

  In another memory, Kintovar found herself in a dimly lit er of the small, cluttered room they called home. Her father, Vartan, sat hunched over a workbench covered in tools and half-finished iions.

  Kintovar's test creation sat on the workbench—a small device with intricate wiring and circuits. She had spent tless hours meticulously crafting it. She only hoped that it would impress her father.

  Vartan had a weary face from hunger and exhaustion. He examihe device with a critical eye. His once-vibrant e hair now hung in disheveled strands.

  Kintovar held her breath, awaiting her father's verdict. It was important to her that he found sod distra in her creations, especially in their dire circumstances.

  After a moment of silent iion, Vartan finally spoke, with appreciation and sadness. "You've done well, my dear. Your abilities knows no bounds. But..."

  He trailed off, his gaze shifting to the meager scraps of food that remained in a er of the room—a few stale bread crumbs and a nearly empty water fsk.

  Vartan trembled as he tinued, "I wish I could eat, my dear. But those... 'Bastards,' as you would so aptly put it, stole our food rations. It seems they'll stop at nothing to break our spirits."

  "One day, Father," Kintovar decred, her eyes shining with unwavering resolve, "they will pay for what they've doo us! We won't be prisoners forever, and we won't let them break us. I'll use my teology, and you'll use yenius, and together, you’ll see! We’ll find a way out of this pce."

  Vartae the hardships he faced, managed a weak but proud smile at his daughter's words. He reached out and ruffled her hair affeately, a glimmer of hope returning to his weary eyes.

  "You have your mother's spirit, my dear," he said with pride. "With your brilliance, I have no doubt that we'll overe this together. One day, our iions will free us from this prison."

  Kinthed within the realms of her mind

  "But you abahat idea...didn't you, Father..."