Memoirs of Your Local Small-time Villainess-Chapter 301 - Facing off against the villainess

The oppressive air in the chamber hummed with burgeoning magic as the freshly-formed echoes wasted no time casting their spells. Gaspar’s eyes narrowed dangerously, quickly assessing the situation.

“Penney,” he barked, turning to the magister. “Handle those echoes with the others. I’ll deal with the Baroness’ echo.”

The portly man gave a curt nod, already beginning his own spellcasting alongside the junior wizards. Moments later, the chamber erupted in a chaotic storm of magical explosions — spells collided mid-air, blending into a kaleidoscope of arcane forces. The echoes appeared to be roughly on par with those they had encountered in the outer sections, which meant this battle could drag on for some time.

Rosa’s now-familiar melodies pierced through parts of the chaos, a subtle but tangible shift that bolstered Gaspar and the wizards. Fynn and Shin moved into their already well-practised roles. Shin positioned himself as a shield, absorbing what spells he could and fending off whatever conjured foes drew near, while Fynn darted forward with predatory agility, seeking an opening for melee combat.

Gaspar focused on the Baroness’ echo, sensing her mana coiling once more. He promptly channelled his own mana through his staff, casting two spells in quick succession — Flamewrath Barrage and Cinderstrike. Fireballs streaked through the air, followed by a molten bolt aimed directly at the echo. Without fail, however, each attack was met with precision. Impressive walls of conjured fire and water sprang forth, neutralising his spells in bursts of steam and crackling heat.

The Baroness’ echo remained unfazed, her hand raised as if in mockery, and Gaspar could not help cursing under his breath as a shower of flaming arrows and watery spears crossed the chamber, homing in on multiple targets. Clemmons and the rest of the barrier wizards blocked the assault with their own defensive spells, but what unsettled Gaspar was the sheer speed and versatility showcased by the echo. She nearly effortlessly wove dozens of them at once, in an almost perfect combination of both pyrokinesis and hydrokinesis. Gaspar had not even realised the techniques could be used this effectively.

As a wizard, he could not help but respect the skill on display.

The echo’s attention shifted when she noticed Fynn closing in. Walls of searing fire rose in his path, followed by spears of water crashing from above. Forced into evasive manoeuvres, Fynn was momentarily pinned, dodging strikes meant only to kill.

Gaspar slammed his staff into the ground, steeling himself as he began channelling another spell. Clearly, he could not afford to hold back here, and it would be best to finish this as soon as possible. Since projectile attacks were easily countered, he would try a different approach. Fynn’s advance, at least, bought him time.

A surge of heat coursed through him as his mana surged, though slower than he would have expected. A frown crossed his face at the subtle resistance. Was the Baroness’ echo trying to seize control of his spell?

…The audacity.

His anger stoked, he completed his spell with one final push. A twisting whirlpool of flames erupted beneath her, expanding into a fiery maelstrom that sought to devour everything in its wake. Then, with a thunderous explosion, the inferno consumed her and several nearby echoes.

Gaspar did not expect the spell to completely overwhelm her, but he allowed himself a flicker of satisfaction nonetheless. It vanished when the flames cleared. At the heart of the blaze, a shimmering cocoon of fire and water—seamlessly intertwined—stood unscathed. The barrier dissipated, and to Gaspar’s shock and horror, the flames constituting his spell began to converge towards the echo’s head, and the artifact sitting there. They were being absorbed.

For a moment, he questioned his own eyes. What manner of artifact was that?

The thought lingered only briefly — there was no time to dwell on it. His attack had, at least, bought Fynn some time in return. The young warrior leapt towards the Baroness’ echo, showing no hesitation as he brought his fists down in a powerful arc. Gaspar half-expected the echo to collapse under the blow—he had seen the youth perform feats of strength that more than bordered on the absurd by now—but instead, she raised an arm to meet it.

The impact reverberated through much of the chamber, sending a shockwave that disrupted several weaker spells. The Baroness’ echo skidded across the stone floor, her arm visibly damaged and form trembling slightly, but still standing. Gaspar stared in disbelief. A mage—no matter how skilled—shouldn’t have been able to withstand such raw strength without powerful defensive spells, and she’d employed none that he could identify.

Was the real Baroness this strong? Or was this an advantage unique to her echo? Did that artifact on her head play some role in this?

Before Gaspar could formulate a reasonable theory, a swarm of the lesser echoes turned their focus on Fynn, unleashing a torrent of spells on the young man. Meanwhile, chains of water lashed out, and fire blasts sought to engulf him, forcing Fynn to dodge and weave, retreating under the onslaught.

“Wish Scarlett had mentioned that little trick,” Rosa muttered not far from Gaspar, her attention divided between maintaining her other melodic charms and bolstering Fynn against the deluge of attacks. Fynn’s struggle proved an unexpected blessing for the other wizards, though, who capitalised on the distraction to suppress the echoes which longer targeted them. Unfortunately, that singular advantage was short-lived. The Baroness’ echo soon returned to countering spells, her magic terrifyingly precise and swift as she reclaimed control of large swaths of the battlefield, leaving Fynn’s containment to the other echoes.

Gaspar did attempt to exploit her divided attention, hammering her with spell after spell, but found that the results were always the same. It seemed almost painless for her to neutralise his spells with a last-second defence, or by simply absorbing the fire into that cursed artifact atop her head.

His jaw clenched in frustration. He had grossly miscalculated. What he had thought would be a favourable matchup proved to be anything but. The Baroness’ magic was a perfect counter to his. Her arsenal seemed almost custom-made to nullify everything a pyromancer like him could throw at her. Overwhelming her defences would likely require firepower beyond his capacity. Worse still, he doubted Penney or any of the other wizards would fare much better when she displayed no apparent concern for mana expenditure.

If they wanted to win, they might have to rely on sheer numbers.

Gaspar’s gaze flicked to Rosa. The bard’s charms already enhanced their spells, but he could feel it wouldn’t be enough. As if sensing his look, the woman met his eyes, then sighed. “You want me to crack that out already?” she asked with a forced lightheartedness.

Gaspar caught the strain in her expression. No matter how many expensive elixirs and potions they’d fed her to keep her going, there had to be limits to her ominous powers. Even so, he nodded firmly. This was no place for any misgivings or hesitation.

Rosa exhaled deeply, then the very air around her seemed to shift. Her playful demeanour gave way to something darker and more ominous as her eyes dimmed. The melody of her instrument took on a far more haunting note, and from within, Gaspar felt another upsurge of power wash over him as her magic saturated the chamber. The wizards’ spells twisted and warped unpredictably, amplified by Rosa’s sinister charms.

On the battlefield, a tempest of swirling energy enveloped Fynn as his speed and strength both swelled. The burns and blood on his body seemed to melt away, his intangible claws ripping through two echoes in a blur of violence as he growled. Free for a moment, Fynn then took a brief retreat as the empowered wizards’ spells pushed forward. Even the Baroness’ echo faltered, momentarily overwhelmed by the erratic barrage.

Then, without warning, the flaming artifact on her head exploded into blinding radiance. It morphed into a crown of pure, molten fire, wreathing her in blazing energy. Gaspar’s breath caught as he watched the artifact voraciously draw in mana from its surroundings, its light intensifying until it warped the space itself. From somewhere unseen, Gaspar could even see how its ravenous desires were met as massive amounts of mana simply manifested and channelled towards it.

The Baroness’ echo stood bathed in the crown’s fiery glow, her grey-tinted figure gleaming under the flames. With a single, slow gesture, she unleashed a wave of devastating fire that swept across the entire chamber, burying everything in its path. Spells from the Isle’s wizards fizzled out under the overwhelming force, and the translucent barriers maintained by Clemmons and her wizards were the only things keeping the flames back. Gaspar could scarcely believe the amounts of mana he’d seen coursing through the echo. It was unlike anything he’d ever witnessed — an unending, inexhaustible well of power.

He cursed under his breath, even as he unsuccessfully tried casting spell after spell to push back the flood. Worse, he could feel how the Baroness’ newfound power had brought her to a point where she could noticeably interfere with his casting directly. Whatever that artifact was, it granted her a terrifying level of control and potency, surpassing his own. Gaspar could only think of a handful of artifacts in existence capable of anything remotely similar, but this one was entirely unfamiliar.

How had a mere baroness from the Empire gotten her hands on it?

A sudden cry drew his attention to the left. He turned to see several of Clemmons’ wizards convulsing or collapsing on the ground, their faces contorted and pale. Not even a second later, the protective barriers those wizards had maintained shattered, leaving their ranks exposed. A flurry of fire and water appeared among them, and screams of agony filled the air.

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“Someone reinforce those barriers!” Gaspar shouted, his voice sharp and urgent. “Now!”

Clemmons quickly expanded her own barriers, sealing the gaps just in time, though her trembling hands betrayed the strain. She was now forced to shoulder the burden of several wizards alone. Allyssa darted among the fallen with potions, while Rosa’s charms worked to heal the most grievous injuries.

“What manner of sorcery is this?” Gaspar exclaimed, his eyes fixed on the collapsed barrier wizards. He couldn’t tell if anyone had died, but it seemed unlikely many could return to the fight. They had been shielded by their own barriers when they fell, yet something had bypassed their defences. He hadn’t seen any visible wounds at that point, so he didn’t understand what had happened.

At his side, he caught sight of Magister Penney’s face, which had turned a shade paler.

“Penney, what’s going on? Do you know?” Gaspar pressed.

The man hesitated, swallowing hard. “I-I’m not entirely sure, but I suspect that might have been her hydrokinesis at play,” he replied.

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“Hydrokinesis?” Gaspar scowled. “But I saw no—”

He stopped mid-sentence as the realisation dawned on him. His eyes darted to the sea of flames that separated their group and the Baroness’ echo across the chamber.

Could she have manipulated the very moisture and liquids inside their bodies? Targeted the weakened barrier wizards, exhausting them before exploiting gaps in their defences to attack them internally? Such a technique would rarely work against seasoned mages, but after so many battles, these wizards were already physically and mentally exhausted.

Gaspar’s blood ran cold at the thought. Playing with the very lifeblood of those around her — the Baroness was delving into magic far more dangerous and dark than he had even anticipated. Not only did the woman have ties to demonic influences, but this as well? What manner of monster was she?

Before he could dwell on it further, another barrier wizard collapsed, writhing on the ground. Clemmons, prepared this time, sealed the breach almost instantly, but the effort left her visibly shaken. Meanwhile, Penney summoned a small army of water elementals to buffer the rear against the encroaching flames, but they were woefully insufficient against the overwhelming inferno consuming the chamber.

The helplessness clawed at Gaspar. For the first time since earning his title as a grand wizard, he felt truly powerless.

The battle raged on, and Gaspar tried to assist wherever he could, focusing on lesser echoes whenever his wizards managed to pierce a hole in the Baroness’ flames, but it was largely a futile effort. Even when they managed to destroy one, it would reconstruct within minutes. Though the echoes were briefly vulnerable during this process, their numbers made it difficult to exploit this consistently. He assigned a group of wizards to disrupt the reconstructed echoes where possible, but it was far from enough to win them this fight.

The chamber had become the echoes’ domain. Fynn and Shin had long since been forced to retreat behind the barrier, and even Rosa’s struggle was becoming increasingly evident, placed under a similar level of strain as Clemmons simply to maintain the wizards’ current position. Those charms were all that prevented Gaspar’s wizards from being entirely overpowered.

Another barrier wizard fell, and this time, several offensive casters dropped alongside them. Clemmons stumbled as she stretched her protective spells even further. Rosa, too, was nearing her limit — blood-red streaks trailed from her eyes, her body shaking. Both women fought desperately to keep the rest of them alive.

“I don’t think we can hold out much longer,” Rosa finally muttered through clenched teeth.

Gaspar hesitated, his next spell faltering as he turned to her. His gaze swept the chamber, taking in the exhausted wizards still standing, still casting with all the energy they could muster. They had consumed far more potions than planned—or safe—but what more could they do? This had become a battle of attrition, one that they were losing, while the Baroness’ echo drew from an endless pool of mana.

Their current strategy had failed. Perhaps if they could just reach the Baroness herself, they could change the tide. But how? Even Fynn would succumb to the firestorm beyond the barriers, and any opportunity they’d had to push forward was long gone.

“I might have something up my sleeve that could help us,” Rosa said quietly.

Gaspar’s attention snapped back to her. “What is it?”

She grimaced. “It’s a trick Scarlett and I use sometimes. It might buy us a few seconds, maybe clear out parts of the chamber. But I won’t be standing much longer after that.”

Gaspar frowned. A brief opening could prove invaluable, but it likely was not enough to end this. They needed more than a fleeting moment to defeat the Baroness’ echo. Even as the strongest caster present, his magic was woefully inadequate. The unfortunate matchup aside, the Baroness had demonstrated that none of the other wizards’ spells could even reach her.

His gaze shifted to Fynn, standing near the barrier, staring into the chaos. The Baroness’ echo had treated him as the only true threat so far. If anyone could make the difference they needed, it would be Fynn. But with such a narrow window, what could the young warrior achieve?

“How much further could you raise Fynn’s strength?” Gaspar asked, turning to Rosa.

The bard shook her head. “After I handle Scarlett’s flames? Not much. He’s already at his limit.”

Gaspar’s mouth thinned as he looked back at Fynn. The youth’s intense gaze moved to meet his, as if waiting for his decision.

“Boy,” Gaspar finally called, his tone grim. “If we can give you a chance, do you think you can break through and keep it—her—occupied? Be warned, it will be dangerous.”

Fynn held his eyes for a long moment, then gave a single, resolute nod.

“Then we’ll have to rely on you.”

Gaspar motioned for a small group of his wizards to gather. Members of the Rising Isle rarely focused on spells that enhanced physical prowess. Such magic was seldom needed, as wizards typically avoided direct combat, and such spells always came with their own costs. Still, they weren’t entirely without options.

Nearby, Clemmons staggered as a burst of innumerable flaming mines detonated against the barriers, sending ripples of energy through the translucent shields.

“We have to act now,” Gaspar said, gripping his staff tightly. He gave Rosa a nod, signalling her to begin.

The pervasive music ceased, and Rosa closed her eyes, the space around her calming for a brief moment before she began a new melody. Ethereal and otherworldly, the notes floated through the chamber, light yet affecting. Beyond the barriers, the Baroness’ all-encompassing flames flickered in response. Tiny blue flames shimmered into existence around the decolourised inferno, dancing as if in harmony with the music.

A moment passed, then those flickering blue flames exploded into bursts of light, resonating like the plucked strings of an enchanted harp. Strangely, wherever the blue flames touched a barrier, the barriers reacted unpredictably — some cracked under the strain, while others, paradoxically, grew stronger. Soon, the chamber glowed with the brilliance of blue fire as they devoured more than half of the Baroness’ flames, casting an almost blinding light over everything.

As the first of the blue flames began to fade, Rosa reeled back, caught by Shin just before she fell. With the path partially cleared, Gaspar and his wizards had already sprung into action.

Gaspar released his spell, Flare Haste, just as his junior wizards layered their own enchantments onto Fynn: Stonebound Endurance, Wave Strike, Shadow’s Grace, and more. Multicoloured auras enveloped the youth, gleaming as they seeped into his body. The stress immediately showed on Fynn’s face, yet he didn’t waver. His focus remained locked on the far end of the chamber, where the flames had thinned enough to reveal the Baroness’ echo once more. A sudden gust of wind swept through the chamber, as though heralding the coming storm.

Gaspar had worried Fynn might not withstand the burden, but he was glad to see he’d been wrong.

Rosa’s music resumed, though it was weaker now, her magic seemingly focused entirely on Fynn. Then, the moment Grand Wizard Clemmons lowered a section of the barrier, Fynn vanished in a blur of speed. The air tore apart in his wake, a powerful gale rippling through the chamber and nearly toppling Gaspar and the others. Gaspar’s eyes struggled to follow his nightmarishly fast movements.

A deafening crash resounded as Fynn’s form collided with the spot where the Baroness’ echo had stood. Moments later, another impact followed, scattering debris across the chamber in the wake of a fight Gaspar could barely spot. The relentless barrage that had hammered their barriers faltered as columns of flame and water erupted near the chamber’s end, implying that the Baroness’ echo had survived, but now her attention was fully on Fynn.

“Don’t let up!” Gaspar barked, casting a blast of fire at the lesser echoes to keep them from aiding the Baroness. His fellow wizards followed suit, their spells surging across the battlefield with newfound urgency.

Amidst the chaos, Gaspar caught the occasional glimpse of Fynn. His movements were a haze of raw power and momentum, surpassing anything he’d demonstrated before. He cut through the torrent of magic thrown his way, even as the flames burned and tore at his body. Every attack seemed like nothing more than an obstacle to be obliterated. Meanwhile, the Baroness’ artifact flared brighter, almost pure white, as she conjured more and more magic to repel Fynn’s onslaught. A spiralling vortex of fire roared behind her, feeding the artifact with a never-ending supply of fire.

Then, with impossible speed, Fynn lunged at her, his clawed fist trailing violent winds as it crashed towards her. The Baroness raised an arm to block. The impact was devastating, cracking the stone floor beneath them. Yet, impossibly, the echo was only pushed back a few meters. Gaspar could only stare. It was as if she, too, had reached an inhuman level of physical resilience.

Even so, the echo was beginning to falter. Fynn’s relentless strikes battered her defences, gusts of wind tearing through the chamber with each blow. Gaspar had honestly only expected Fynn to buy time, but the youth had seemingly forsaken all other concerns and was doing far more — he was pressing both of them to their limits. His body, marred with burns and wounds, seemed ready to collapse, yet in that moment, he appeared both unyielding and unstoppable. A force of nature, clashing against the embodiment of elemental power.

Their battle reached a fever pitch. Fire and water clashed with wind in an elemental crescendo. The Baroness summoned a swelling mass of flames that engulfed everything around her. But Fynn roared—a guttural, primal sound—and surged forward, his form shrouded in cyclones tinged with faint green light. He plunged into the blaze, undeterred.

A final, thunderous impact echoed through the chamber. For an instant, the air stilled, the cacophony of the battle silenced. Then the flames abruptly dissipated, leaving only stillness in their wake. The oppressive atmosphere lifted as the remaining echoes flickered out of existence, their forms dissolving like ash in the wind while colour bled into the chamber.

Gaspar lowered his staff, his heart racing. His gaze swept the room until it fell on Fynn, standing alone near the center of the chamber, his chest heaving as blood seeped over his form. He stared at the spot where the Baroness’ echo had stood — now empty. Then, slowly, Fynn’s body gave out, and he collapsed.

Around Gaspar, the wizards began to stir. Their spells faded as the realisation set in: the fight was over. Quiet murmurs of relief and exhaustion spread through their ranks. Clemmons sank to the floor, while Allyssa ran across the chamber to Fynn’s side. Gaspar considered calling her back—they couldn’t be certain all threats had passed—but something told him she wouldn’t listen.

His gaze shifted to the spot where the Baroness’ echo had been. Thankfully, she showed no signs of reforming.

Gaspar exhaled, the weight of the battle still persisting. There was much left to do, and many dangers to address, but for now, they had overcome this challenge.

Never in his wildest imagination had he thought the Baroness—or an echo of her—could wield such power. Even with access to far more mana than the real Baroness presumably had, the abilities on display were unnerving in many ways. He would have much to discuss with the woman, should he ever see her again.

A question lingered, tugging at the edge of his mind: where was the real Baroness Hartford now, if not here? Though he had kept it to himself, Gaspar had quietly wondered—and even doubted—whether she could survive whatever trials she would face alone. But after witnessing the echo’s might, he was no longer skeptical.

In fact, he was certain of the opposite.

It would take something—or someone—truly extraordinary to stop that woman.