The battlefield had already begun to collapse.
Broken stone slid across the ground like drifting ash, dragged by a wind that carried the residue of shattered magecraft. The sky above was wrong — a twisting ceiling of unstable mana where spells had clashed too violently for the world to remain calm.
At the center of the ruined field stood the archer.
His breathing was controlled, though his body was far from unscathed. The Archer Class Card embedded within his system pulsed faintly with magical energy, responding to his thoughts like a second heartbeat.
Not far from him, the woman known as Lust stood with equal composure.
The magical aura around her was dense, intricate, and deliberate — the mark of the Caster card tied to Medea. Layers of spell structures rotated around her fingers like invisible machinery.
Neither of them moved.
They had already exchanged enough blows to understand something simple.
Neither side could end this quickly.
The archer slowly lifted his arm.
"Trace… on."
Blue lines of magical circuits flared across his hand as a weapon formed in his grip. Steel took shape from nothing — a blade reconstructed through pure understanding.
Projection.
Across from him, Lust tilted her head slightly.
"Still relying on that trick?"
Her voice was calm, almost curious.
Around her, several runic circles unfolded in midair. Complex spell structures layered themselves with the precision of a practiced sorcerer.
This was the advantage of the Caster card.
Magecraft of overwhelming complexity.
The archer didn't respond.
Talking had long since stopped being useful.
He shifted his stance.
The battlefield went silent for half a second.
Then both of them moved.
The archer dashed forward first.
A storm of magical bolts erupted from the spell circles around Lust, tearing across the battlefield like artillery. The ground exploded as the archer cut through the attack pattern, analyzing the structure of the spell rather than simply reacting to it.
Three spells.
Layered trajectory.
The core was the second circle.
His arm moved.
A projected blade left his hand and spun through the air like a thrown spear.
The weapon struck the spell circle directly.
The entire structure collapsed in a burst of unstable mana.
Lust's eyes narrowed slightly.
"So that's how you fight."
Not by overpowering magic.
But by dismantling it.
Another wave of spells began forming around her — more complicated this time.
The archer felt it immediately.
The density of magical energy had increased.
She was escalating.
Fine.
His hand moved again.
More weapons began to form around him, hovering in the air as if the battlefield itself had become an armory.
For a moment, neither of them attacked.
Then the air changed.
It started as a vibration.
A faint distortion spreading across the battlefield.
Both of them noticed it instantly.
Lust's spell circles froze.
The archer's projected weapons halted midair.
The space between them cracked.
Not metaphorically.
Literally.
A fracture opened in reality itself, like glass splitting under impossible pressure.
A vortex of unstable magical energy began to form.
The archer immediately recognized the problem.
This wasn't a spell.
It wasn't something either of them had created.
The battlefield itself had become unstable from the sheer amount of power released during their fight.
A dimensional collapse.
Lust realized it a moment later.
For the first time since the battle began, her calm expression faltered slightly.
"That's… inconvenient."
The fracture widened.
The pull of the vortex intensified.
Loose debris began sliding across the ground toward the expanding tear in space.
The archer stepped back instinctively.
But the pull grew stronger.
Much stronger.
This wasn't a simple distortion anymore.
It was becoming a full spatial collapse.
Lust quickly began constructing a new spell circle, attempting to stabilize the surrounding mana.
But the structure never finished forming.
The vortex expanded violently.
The battlefield vanished beneath them.
A flash of light swallowed everything.
And then—
Silence.
Far away, in another world, the sky above the Magic Dimension was calm.
The forests surrounding Alfea College for Fairies rustled gently in the evening wind.
Students moved through the campus, unaware that anything unusual had happened.
High above the forest canopy—
Reality cracked.
A figure fell from the fracture in space.
The archer hit the ground hard, rolling across the grass before finally stopping.
For several seconds, he didn't move.
Then he slowly pushed himself upright.
His eyes scanned the surrounding forest.
Trees.
Wind.
Natural mana.
But the magical structure of the environment was completely unfamiliar.
This wasn't the battlefield anymore.
This wasn't even the same world.
The Archer card inside him reacted slightly, as if confused by the foreign magical system.
The archer stood up fully.
"…So."
He looked at the unfamiliar sky above him.
"…I lost the battlefield."
Not far away, the lights of Alfea glowed through the trees.
Unbeknownst to him, the world of Winx Club had just gained an extremely dangerous new visitor.
And somewhere else in the Magic Dimension—
another distortion began to form.
Because the archer had not been the only one pulled through the fracture.