Without saying a word, Sigrún stepped toward Thalia as blue fire crackled violently around her. But just as she was about to reach the annoying red-haired woman, Eleonora's voice resonated in the air, sounding with a tone laden with anger and murderous intent.

"Don't play Thalia's game, Sigrún. Let's focus on what's important: the Leifs are yours, I'll take the Xuanling, and together we'll take down the Blackthorn."

Upon hearing Eleonora's words, Sigrún looked at her for a moment, almost as if to confirm they were really going to do it. Shortly after, the blue fire disappeared from her body as she approached her sworn sister to start planning their revenge. But this was interrupted again by Thalia, who asked in an exasperated voice.

"Are you really thinking of attacking the three great factions without consulting the director first?"

"Hmph, don't talk to me about that old bastard; I already have scores to settle with him." Sigrún commented with disdain and continued with her planning, which caused a vein to throb on Thalia's forehead. She added angrily.

"Stop being fools! You know perfectly well that the director's solution was the best. You already took a gigantic slice out of the Xuanling and the Blackthorn, and they will be dealt with by the court. Besides, the director left you the Leifs to deal with. Be content with that and stop creating problems for the faction."

Like lionesses ready for battle, Eleonora and Sigrún turned their gazes full of ill intent toward Thalia, who smiled slyly before commenting in a haughty tone.

"Otherwise, I'll be forced to tell Erik what you're doing."

Upon hearing the threat from the irritating redhead, Sigrún and Eleonora couldn't help but widen their eyes in surprise. They glared at Thalia with hatred for a while longer but eventually stopped looking at her. A beautiful teapot and a pair of elegantly decorated teacups appeared on the table. They poured some tea and sipped with elegance and delicacy, as if nothing were happening.

"Hehehe, who would have thought that the pair of wild beasts of the faction would be so easy to tame." Thalia commented with a disdainful expression toward the famous troublemakers.

"Shut up, Thalia, or I'll seriously throw you out," Sigrún said with disgust, continuing to sip from her cup without even turning to look at Thalia.

"Hehehe, alright, alright, don't be like that. I already know you chose the path of the lecherous old man and took an innocent youngster as a disciple to turn him into a lover." Thalia laughed arrogantly and commented with disdain. But Eleonora responded in her characteristic elegant voice, though it was evident she was truly offended by the comment.

"Don't talk about what you don't know, Thalia. If you dare to denigrate Erik's status that way again, I won't be responsible for my actions."

Hearing Eleonora and seeing the expressions of the pair of troublemakers from the arcane order—who were practically warning her with their gaze to watch her words, even more seriously than when they wanted to attack the three great factions head-on—Thalia couldn't help but widen her eyes in astonishment. She then reflexively asked, with evident shock in her tone.

"Don't tell me you're serious about that kid...?"

For their part, Sigrún and Eleonora chose to ignore Thalia, who stood there with her mouth open, unable to believe what was happening. She wanted to ask more but realized that now the pair of lionesses were truly offended, so she decided on a tactical retreat while curiosity about that young boy consumed her.

"For now, adjust the course toward the territory of the Leifs, Sig. It doesn't feel right to return to the university, leaving that unaddressed."

"I had exactly the same idea, so I've already changed it. It's time to return 'home,'" Sigrún said, a smile full of ill intentions appearing on her face, while Eleonora returned a small 'friendly' smile.

...

...

...

Above a building that evoked the shape of an ancient Viking longhouse—with steep roofs, an elongated structure, and large glass panels reflecting the surrounding landscape, as well as steel structures interwoven with robust wooden beams engraved with all kinds of incredibly detailed runes—Sigrún's cruiser hovered majestically, exerting great pressure on those who saw it from below.

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From the impressive ship, Sigrún descended with an imposing aura, surrounded by blue fire that radiated power. She gently floated down until she reached ground level, at which point all those present knelt respectfully as an old man approached her and exclaimed with evident joy.

"It's a pleasure to see you again after so long, young miss."

Seeing the trash in front of her, who now pretended to play the good guy, Sigrún couldn't help but smile full of disdain. She then spoke calmly, ignoring everyone present. Although contrary to what one might expect from her tone, her voice resonated powerfully in the place, to the point that it made the very ground tremble as if from an earthquake.

"Ragnar, come out and accept your death."

From inside the building, a powerful male voice responded, evidently containing equal parts anger and shame—a voice that brought Sigrún countless unpleasant memories, only serving to heighten her already terrifying murderous intent.

"Damned disloyal disgrace, come and pay your respects to your father and prepare to meet your future husband!"

Filled with rage and murderous intent, Sigrún raised her right hand, where a single beautiful and intricate rune formed. It instantly conjured a gigantic blue fireball that flew toward the building at blinding speed.

As the fireball approached dangerously, the building lit up brightly from the runes that began to glow. At the same time, a luminescent barrier completely covered it, and the Myst in the surroundings stirred violently.

After a brief resistance by the barrier, it shattered like a pile of crystals, allowing the fireball to hit the top of the building squarely, evaporating it completely. A terrifying pressure filled with murderous intent saturated the air, causing everyone present to fall unconscious on the ground.

"If you won't come out to receive death with honor, then let me come and find you."

With a voice that seemed to come from a ruthless demon, Sigrún commented, making her voice thunder through the area. Simultaneously, she rose into the air toward an upper room, which had now lost its roof. There, a large, muscular man—bald with a bushy golden beard—was seen looking with terror at the approaching woman.

"Sigrún, damn traitor, what is the meaning of this? Dare you attack your own father?!" Upon seeing his daughter in front of him after centuries, Ragnar could only exclaim loudly, trying to sound strong, although his voice was filled with the deepest terror.

Sigrún ignored the terrified man and simply landed on the ground near the beautiful black wooden desk adorned with various carved runes. She then spoke in a calm voice, which could only sound grim in Ragnar's ears.

"You know, Ragnar, although you must be aware, I hated you even more than you despised me when I was young. I hated you more than anyone in the world because, thanks to you, I came into this world being hated by my mother, who couldn't bear the idea of having the daughter of her damned rapist."

"THAT WOMAN WAS CRAZY!! SHE SHOULD HAVE BEEN GRATEFUL TO RECEIVE MY GRACE—I DID HER A FAVOR!!!"

Ragnar exclaimed hysterically, but Sigrún simply looked at him calmly, something that, for some reason, made the muscular man's heart tighten even more. When he tried to speak again, he realized he couldn't; his voice seemed trapped in his throat with no way out, which sent him into even more of a panic. He tried to run, but again he realized, to his horror, that his body no longer responded to him.

"You're nothing but narcissistic trash, and let me tell you, absolutely no one respects you, and no one ever has. You're one of the biggest jokes in the galaxy and a genuine disgrace to the Boreal League because you're the perfect representation of a stupid berserker who only knows how to swing his axe around like an idiot.

"Moreover, you're so repulsive that the only way you can have offspring is through rape, as no woman in her right mind could spend a minute by your side without feeling the need to vomit. Your pathetic victims lived their short lives with the stigma of having been harmed by trash like you, which is why they all ended up committing suicide.

"But the point is that despite always knowing this, for some stupid reason I couldn't understand at the time, I never had the courage to kill you and only fled when my mother died, vowing never to return. But over time, I understood that deep inside me, a small part wanted to have a father, wanted to have a family, and that understanding led me to my current state—the youngest Master in history.

"So at that moment, I decided to leave you in peace, forget you existed, and not stain my hands with trash of your kind. But now I realize that was a terrible mistake. You're like a plague and will never stop trying to harm those around me, to the point that you even had plans to get rid of my Erik—something unforgivable. Therefore, in his honor and for his safety, today I will dispose of the trash."

With an expression filled with an infinity of feelings, especially shame and disgust, Sigrún delivered a monologue that had been circling her mind for centuries. Meanwhile, Ragnar, gripped by panic, tried to beg for his life, but all he encountered was an imposing bird made of flames that surrounded him. His vision darkened, and he disappeared from this world forever.

With a deep gaze, Sigrún observed the place where her 'father' had been just moments ago, with mixed feelings in her heart. But at that moment, the image of Erik smiling at her and eating cookies came to mind, causing a pleasant smile to form on her lips.

"Thank you, Ignis," Sigrún said gratefully to her reliable companion, who responded in a voice that held a slight feeling of nostalgia.

"Don't worry about it, Sig. We'd better hurry back to the university—I miss Erik."

"Haha, you're right. Let's go quickly—I can't wait to hug my Erik!"

With a liberated smile on her face, Sigrún exclaimed joyfully before flying to her cruiser, where she was greeted by Eleonora, who gave her a comforting hug. She then made a call to Erik through the long-distance communication artifact, handed it to Sigrún, and left her alone.

Smiling, Sigrún spoke warmly with her proud disciple as the cruiser rapidly approached the Arcane University, leaving behind centuries of regret, pain, and shame. Somehow, this made the world seem to have millions of new colors for the youngest Master in history.