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"Dark Magic Burst!"
Mana's staff swept forward, and the arena floor split open beneath a wall of black-violet energy that made every previous attack look like a firecracker. The blast wave from earlier had been a warning shot. This was the real thing. Dark magic saturated the entire arena, filling every cubic inch of available space with killing intent.
There was nowhere to run.
"Silver Moon Fox, Nine-Tail Fox Hammer! Nebula Rainbow Butterfly, focus beam!" Lily's composure cracked. Her voice pitched high, commands firing in rapid succession as the tidal wave of destruction bore down on her cards.
The artificial moon overhead blazed to full intensity. Under the Butterfly's control, every drop of available moonlight condensed into a single concentrated beam that poured directly into the Silver Moon Fox's body. The fox howled, and behind it, eight spectral fox tails materialized alongside the physical one. Nine tails, real and phantom, twisted together into a single massive construct of lunar energy, a fox-shaped battering ram that the Silver Moon Fox hurled directly into the path of the Dark Magic Burst.
Nine-Tail Fox Hammer. The fox's ultimate technique. Everything it had.
It wasn't enough.
The moment the fox hammer touched the Dark Magic Burst, it dissolved. Unraveled like thread pulled from a spool, the lunar construct coming apart layer by layer as the execution effect shredded through it. The Silver Moon Fox behind it had nowhere left to hide. Neither did the Nebula Rainbow Butterfly.
One hit. Both gone.
The residual energy from the Burst slammed into the arena floor and detonated, throwing up a mushroom cloud of dust and shattered stone. When it cleared, a crater the size of a swimming pool was all that remained.
Zane and Levi stared at the crater and felt their legs go weak. If that had hit a person instead of the ground...
There wouldn't be a body left to bury.
"How is this POSSIBLE?!"
On the VIP platform, Helena Frost was on her feet.
For the first time since arriving in Ashenvale, for the first time since anyone in this arena had seen her, the woman who'd earned the nickname "crazy woman" through sheer, unflappable combat obsession had lost her composure. She was standing, hands braced on the railing, staring at the crater where her student's ultimate combination had been erased in a single attack.
Behind her, Edwin Pace and every Moonvale principal had risen too. Monarch Realm, Emperor Realm, Sovereign Realm. Card Masters who'd seen decades of combat, who understood power on a fundamental level. And every single one of them was staring at the arena with the same expression.
"A Six-Star Card Spirit cannot possibly have this level of destructive power. It's not possible."
They weren't wrong to be shocked. Even Victor, Harlow, Townsend, and Brandt had felt the jolt. They'd seen the Burst during the exam, but feeling it from twenty feet away was another experience entirely.
"Harlow." Townsend leaned in while the Moonvale delegation was still reeling. "Is Luke's Spellcaster really Six-Star?"
"Confirmed through Mr. Tanner. Luke told him directly," Harlow replied.
"Then how do you explain that?" Brandt jerked her chin toward the crater.
"There's one possibility," Victor said quietly. "The Spellcaster is Six-Star, but her quality isn't what we originally guessed. Not Collectible. Not even Legacy. She may have reached Perfect."
Silence.
"Perfect?" Townsend's eyes went wide. "That's two full tiers above Legacy."
"Think about it." Victor rubbed his temples. "She's Six-Star. If she were Seven-Star, she wouldn't have needed the Burst to finish the fight. Basic attacks would have been enough. So she is Six-Star, but with Perfect quality stacked on top of an execution effect, the gap between her and a Legacy-tier fox becomes a canyon. It's the only explanation that fits."
Brandt and Townsend exchanged a long look. Then both of them slowly turned their heads toward Luke, standing casually in the arena beside his Spellcaster, and a dangerous gleam entered their eyes.
A student who could craft a Six-Star Perfect quality card on his first attempt. At Soldier Realm. As a high schooler.
"Don't." Harlow didn't raise his voice, but the single word hit like a slamming door. "I can see what you're both thinking, and the answer is no. He's mine."
"Nobody said anything," Townsend replied, far too innocently.
"Your eyeballs said plenty. Westbridge finally produces a genuine prodigy and you want to poach him? Over my dead body." Harlow crossed his arms. "He's staying at Westbridge. End of discussion."
"Relax, relax," Brandt said, holding up both hands. But neither she nor Townsend looked particularly relaxed.
"Well then." Victor turned back to Helena, abandoning all pretense of subtlety. "It seems Ashenvale came out on top this time. About that bet..."
Helena was still standing, still staring at the crater. But the shock was receding, replaced by something harder. Respect, maybe. Or hunger. Hard to tell with her.
"A bet's a bet," she said flatly.
Victor smiled. Getting Helena Frost to concede anything was rarer than a Moon Spirit Ring. Today had been worth every second of stress.