At first, Hilia wanted Benovia and the others to help her take care of those audience members serving as array nodes.

But unfortunately, they were all stopped.

Later, with Rose’s help, Hilia broke through the blockade of the Tier Four Mage, but then another mage watched over Benovia’s group, not allowing them to make any moves.

Maybe these two Tier Four Mages had good intentions, but later, because Hilia refused to cooperate and insisted on interfering, one of them ended up half-blown to death by Rose. As far as Hilia was concerned, he deserved it.

The Northern Alliance is sluggish and slow with everything, but when it comes to blocking their own allies, these guys act fast and decisively—how infuriating.

After that mage got half-beaten to death, the other mage ignored Benovia and the others, and instead joined the group to surround Hilia.

At that moment, Benovia and her three companions seized the chance to leave, captured the three heretics who had tried to escape, and brought them back.

"If it hadn’t been for your obstruction, maybe I wouldn’t have killed anyone at all. Just like these three core nodes, I could’ve just thrown them out for you to interrogate..."

Hilia spoke, then shook her head.

What’s already happened doesn’t need to be talked about anymore.

Besides, the dead weren’t innocent civilians—they were heretics who nearly froze thousands of innocent civilians to death.

Honestly, there’s nothing to regret. It’s just that blowing someone’s head off is a bit too impactful.

Adrian gestured to one of his men, who understood and brought the three heretics over.

He stared at the female heretic whom Hilia had been the first to stop, and asked coldly, "Spill everything you know, and we might be lenient with your punishment."

The woman just kept laughing, her grin twisted and strange. "Hehehe... You bunch of useless trash—even if you knew everything, you wouldn’t be able to do a damn thing."

As she spoke, she looked at Hilia, her eerie smile twisting into hateful malice.

"The Holy Court really is a nuisance. No matter where we are, you’re always there causing trouble! We were already withdrawing—why did you have to mess with our plans? You should die, you should die, you should die! Our leader won’t let you off. Heeheehee...hahaha..."

Hilia looked at her calmly. "I probably won’t let your leader off either. Sooner or later, I’ll end the Polar Blood Alliance with my own hands."

"Ha...hahaha! What a laughably arrogant thought. Even if you wiped out the Northern Alliance, the Blood Alliance will never die. Frozen world! Blood Alliance forever!"

The other two yelled along:

"Frozen world! Blood Alliance forever!"

"Frozen world! Blood Alliance forever!"

"..."

Hilia pointed at the three, whose mental states were completely deranged, and looked at Adrian: "President Adrian, do you think these three are heretics?"

Adrian’s mouth twitched.

He had to admit, maybe Hilia was right.

But what, he—a dignified Tier Five Mage—should apologize to a Tier Three Mage?

Absolutely impossible!

If he bent his back now, Adrian knew his career would be over on the spot. All the Northern Alliance’s resources would be out of his reach.

So, he waved his hand for his men to escort the three heretics away, then said icily, "We’ve uncovered the situation as well. This was indeed the work of a Sect. We also thank you, Ista, for helping us find out.

"However, as a contestant, not only did you refuse to obey the referee and stay put, but after acting on your own, you seriously injured the referee. This is a serious violation of the Mage League’s rules. As president, I have the right to revoke your right to compete."

To Hilia, these words just meant he couldn’t do anything else to her and could only wield his pitiful authority to disgust her.

Mr. Nikodemos looked at Adrian and spoke: "President Adrian, isn’t this a bit too much? Contestant qualifications can’t be taken away so lightly, can they?"

"Lord Nikodemos, I am the president. Of course, I have to make a careful judgment before revoking anyone’s qualification. Let me ask you, if a contestant ignores the referee’s orders, ignores the league committee’s arrangements, acts on their own, and not only that, but seriously injures a committee referee—shouldn’t their qualification be revoked?"

Before Nikodemos could reply, Adrian continued: "Lord Nikodemos, as the Duke of the Northern Alliance, I sincerely thank Miss Hilia for her actions just now, saving the lives of thousands of spectators.

"But rules are rules. Such egregious conduct in the Mage League deserves more than just revoking this year’s qualification—in principle, it should mean a permanent ban."

"But this was an emergency—"

"Even in emergencies, you don’t injure referees! The referee wasn’t trying to harm Miss Hilia, he just wanted her to stay put. Does the so-called just Holy Court cover up this kind of behavior too?"

Mr. Nikodemos frowned, staring intently at the utterly unyielding Adrian.

Just as he was about to say something, Hilia spoke up: "Mr. Nikodemos, forget it. I’ve embarrassed President Adrian, so it’s only fair he uses what little authority he has. If they want to punish me, then punish me. I don’t care for any competition that holds a few thousand spectators in contempt."

"Sorry, Mr. Nikodemos, for wasting your time. Thank you for your help. I’m a bit tired now, so I’ll head back first."

After speaking, without waiting for anyone to respond, she walked off the stage.

Coming to Doris’ side, Doris complained, "Why accept the punishment? We trained for so long..."

Benovia stopped Doris. "Say no more. Let Hilia be alone for a while."

Hilia nodded to Benovia, then bowed her head and walked past everyone, heading out of the arena.

She’d long been ready to lose her qualification.

It was a shame, sure, but just a tournament, after all.

The rewards were tempting, but Lord Rose had even stronger passive magic spells for her.

It was only a fleeting title—world’s number one—anyway.

Hilia didn’t care at all.

Rose chuckled. "Really don’t care at all?"

That one line made Hilia’s tears immediately gush out like a fountain.

She lowered her head, watched them drip onto the damp cobblestones, and stubbornly muttered, "I really don’t care! Just a stupid little competition, it’s no big deal!"

Rose smiled, watching her cry as she walked away.

No matter how prepared she was, no matter how firmly she’d nodded when Rose asked, now that it was over and the punishment was real, she cried anyway.

After all, she was only seventeen—a high school sophomore in another world, with a touch of innocence still clinging to her.

Not crying in front of everyone was her last bit of pride.

Rose’s phantom appeared at her side, reached out to pat her head, and chuckled softly, "It’s not over yet..."

"Don’t be in such a hurry to cry."