Chapter 45: This isn’t over, Witch

The roots were as thick as a man’s arm and moved like living things, trying to wrap around Morgana’s legs and arms. Some of them had sharp thorns that gleamed like black teeth in the firelight.

Morgana leaped into the air, using the wind to carry her up and away from the grasping roots. But Katerina was already preparing her next attack. She breathed out again, this time sending not just cold air but actual spears of ice flying toward Morgana.

The ice spears were as long as arrows and twice as sharp, and they moved faster than any arrow Jaenor had ever seen.

Morgana spun in the air, her fire forming a shield around her that melted the first few spears into harmless water. But there were so many of them, and Katerina kept breathing out more and more.

One of the ice spears got through Morgana’s defenses and scraped across her arm, leaving a line of red blood that steamed in the cold air.

She gasped with pain but didn’t let it slow her down.

Landing hard on the ground, Morgana placed both hands on the ground and sent fire racing along the surface toward Katerina. The flames moved like liquid, flowing around rocks and trees, trying to surround the other witch.

But Katerina was clever.

She called upon the trees themselves to help her, and their thick trunks moved to block the flowing fire. The flames licked harmlessly against the bark while Katerina used the protection to prepare something terrible.

She began to chant in the old language, words that made the air itself feel heavy and cold. As she spoke, ice began to form in the air above Morgana—not just small spears this time, but huge chunks of ice as big as boulders.

Jaenor watched in horror as the massive ice blocks began to fall toward Morgana like frozen meteors.

If even one of them hit her, it would crush her instantly.

But Morgana had one more trick.

She threw her hands up toward the sky and called upon both fire and wind with all her strength. The flames roared up in a pillar that reached toward the stars, while the wind howled around it like a hurricane.

The falling ice met the pillar of fire and wind, and the sound was like thunder. Steam exploded outward in all directions, so thick that for a moment no one could see anything.

The heat was so intense that everyone watching had to step back, and the wind was so strong that it bent the trees almost to the ground.

When the steam finally cleared, both witches were on their knees, breathing hard.

Morgana’s clothes were singed and torn, and there were cuts on her arms from the ice spears. Katerina’s hair was wild, and her face was flushed red from the heat, and some of her robes had been burned at the edges.

But Katerina was not finished.

With a snarl of rage, she pressed both hands to the ground and called upon the deepest magic of wood and earth. The very trees of the forest began to move, their roots pulling up from the soil as they walked toward Morgana like giant wooden soldiers.

Everything around responded to her; the Origin power was surging.

At the same time, she breathed out the coldest air yet, so cold that it turned to solid ice crystals the moment it left her mouth. These crystals swirled around her like a blizzard, ready to tear Morgana apart.

Morgana looked around at the walking trees and the swirling ice storm, and for a moment, Jaenor thought she might be beaten.

She was tired, hurt, and facing her attack that seemed impossible to overcome.

But then he saw something in her eyes—not defeat, but determination.

She was thinking of him and of the promise she had made to protect him, and that gave her strength she didn’t know she had. She had just found the last of her blood and the only family she had now.

Morgana stood up slowly, fire beginning to dance around her once more.

But this time, the flames were different. They burned white-hot, so bright that looking at them was like looking at the sun. And the wind that came with them was not just moving air but a force of nature itself. A stream of fire flowed like a snake around her figure, giving off intense radiance in the woods. Everything was burning around her.

She brought her hands together, and fire and wind combined into something new—a swirling storm of white-hot flames that moved like a living thing. It was beautiful and terrifying at the same time, like watching a star being born.

The storm of fire and wind rushed toward Katerina’s walking trees and ice crystals. When they met, there was no gradual melting or burning. The ice simply vanished, turned to steam so quickly it seemed like magic. The wooden trees, ancient and strong as they were, burst into flames and crumbled to ash in seconds.

Katerina’s eyes went wide with shock and fear. She tried to call up more ice, more roots, more of anything that might protect her. But Morgana’s storm of fire and wind was too powerful, too pure, too filled with the need to protect those she cared about.

The white flames reached Katerina and surrounded her, but they did not burn her. Instead, they seemed to drain away her strength, her magic, and her very will to fight. She stood in the center of the firestorm for a moment, then slowly sank to her knees.

“I yield,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the dying wind.

The flames around Morgana faded, and she swayed on her feet, exhausted from the effort.

But she was still standing, and Katerina was beaten.

Elizabeth stepped forward, her face showing surprise and perhaps a little respect. “The challenge is decided,” she announced in her formal voice.

“Morgana is the victor.”

Katerina slowly got to her feet, her face twisted with anger and shame. But the witch codes were clear—she had lost, and she had to honor the terms of the challenge.

“This isn’t over,” she said to Morgana as she walked past.

“I’m sure we will,” Morgana replied quietly.

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