The Scum Emperor's Redemption System

The tension in the training grounds was almost palpable. The charred remnants of Faeralys and Fialova's earlier duel still smoldered in patches, the air alive with faint traces of lingering magic.

Esmeralda, however, seemed entirely unbothered by the destruction. With her arms crossed and her usual smirk plastered across her face, she strode to the center of the field as though she owned it.

"Well," she began, her voice dripping with mockery, "I couldn't just sit on the sidelines while the two of you prance around showing off your mediocre magic. Let's see what the 'great wives' of Argider are made of, shall we?"

Faeralys stiffened, her crimson hair flickering like embers as her pride flared. "You're bold for someone who has no magic."

"Who said I have no magic?"

Both of them were stunned. No way. Her? The insufferable Empress who believes that the earth, the sun, and the moon all revolve around her? It was plastered on their face that they thought this was most likely a mistake.

"N-No way... You?" The knight frowned. To her, such an honor was not deserving for such a person.

"Ladies, ladies, let's not argue. This is perfect. I could use some entertainment before dinner. Esmeralda, are you sure you're ready for this? Or will you cry when you lose?" Faeralys smirked.

"I'll do more than hold my own," Esmeralda said, lifting a hand. Green tendrils began to snake up from the scorched earth, unfurling like vines waking from a long slumber. "Besides, I wouldn't want you to forget who the most impressive woman here truly is."

The emperor, watching from the sidelines, groaned and buried her face in her hands. "Why do they always do this around me? I feel like the universe made me the referee of an ongoing ego battle."

Esmeralda turned her head slightly, just enough to wink at Argider. "Because, my dear, you're worth fighting for."

Before Argider could retort, the ground beneath them trembled, and the vines that Esmeralda had summoned suddenly surged upward. Thick, twisting veins of green erupted in every direction, spreading like wildfire across the field. Thorned tendrils lashed at the air, and clusters of glowing flowers bloomed sporadically amidst the chaos.

The red haired girl was the first to react. With a snarl of determination, she leapt into the air, flames igniting around her. "You're making a mess, Esmeralda!" she shouted, flying above the writhing vines.

"Mess? I call it art," Esmeralda said with a laugh, her hands moving as if conducting an orchestra. The vines responded, rising higher and reaching for Faeralys like eager serpents.

Fialova, ever the knight, dashed forward with startling speed, lightning crackling at her feet. Her blade, alive with electricity, sliced through the tendrils with precision, severing them before they could entangle her. "This isn't a garden party, Esmeralda!" she called, her voice teasing yet sharp.

"Interesting," Esmeralda replied, her grin widening. "I barely know anything about magic and yet, I can feel it... I can feel a little control."

The chaos only grew. Faeralys, clearly annoyed, sent a barrage of fireballs toward the vines, incinerating them mid-air. The heat of her flames clashed with the earthy aroma of Esmeralda's magic, creating a strangely intoxicating mix. "If you're going to throw plants at me, at least try something challenging!" she taunted, her flames carving through a particularly aggressive vine.

Esmeralda's eyes narrowed. "Fine. Let's try this, then."
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With a snap of her fingers, the vines shifted. Flowers burst open, releasing clouds of glowing spores into the air. The golden mist spread quickly, and Faeralys, who had been circling above, suddenly faltered.

"What—what is this?" Faeralys coughed, flapping her wings harder to stay aloft. The spores clung to her, dimming the brilliance of her flames.

"Poison?" Fialova guessed, slicing through another wave of vines. "That's dirty, even for you, Esmeralda."

Esmeralda shrugged, though her smirk betrayed her delight. "It's not poison. Just... mildly disorienting." In all honesty, she didn't know how she was doing this. She could only assert that it was her bloodline as the daughter of the Morrigan family.

Argider snorted from her spot on the sidelines. "Mildly? Faeralys looks like she's about to fall out of the sky."

Indeed, Faeralys was struggling. Her wings, normally graceful and strong, beat erratically as she tried to escape the cloud of spores. Her frustration was written all over her face. "This isn't over," she muttered, forcing herself higher and summoning a burst of flame to clear the air around her.

Meanwhile, Fialova took advantage of Esmeralda's focus on Faeralys. With a burst of speed, she darted through the forest of vines, her blade flashing in the sunlight. Lightning surged with every strike, leaving smoldering, severed tendrils in her wake. She was relentless, her movements a blur as she closed the distance between herself and Esmeralda.

"Getting cocky, aren't we?" Fialova said, her voice low and dangerous.

Esmeralda raised an eyebrow, though there was a flicker of nervousness in her eyes. "And you're predictable," she shot back, but her confidence wavered as Fialova's blade sparked inches from her.

Before the knight could land a hit, Esmeralda summoned a wall of vines to block her path. The barrier held for only a moment before Fialova's lightning shattered it, the tendrils crumbling to ash.

"You've got power, I'll give you that," Fialova said, her blade now leveled at Esmeralda. "But you're still a novice."

Esmeralda gritted her teeth, unwilling to admit defeat. She raised her hands to summon another wave of vines, but before she could, a fiery blast from Faeralys scorched the ground at her feet. "You're both insufferable!" Faeralys shouted, landing with a flourish and glaring at the other two.

"Coming from you?" Esmeralda shot back, though her breathlessness betrayed her exhaustion.

The three of them stood at a tense standoff, the training grounds now resembling a battlefield. Argider watched with a mix of amusement and exasperation, shaking her head. "And people call me dramatic."

Finally, it was Fialova who made the decisive move. In a flash of lightning, she closed the distance between herself and Esmeralda, disarming her with a swift strike. Before Esmeralda could react, Fialova's blade hummed with electricity, stopping just short of her throat.

"I win," Fialova said, her voice calm but triumphant.

Esmeralda scowled, clearly unhappy with the outcome. Faeralys crossed her arms, muttering something about unfair tactics.

But Fialova ignored them both, turning to Argider with a grin. "So, what do I get as my reward?"

Argider blinked, caught off guard. "Reward? What are you—"

Before she could finish, Fialova strode over and kissed her. The gesture was confident, almost smug, and left Argider utterly flustered. Her face turned a deep shade of red as she sputtered incoherently.

From behind them, Esmeralda and Faeralys watched in stunned silence. Then Esmeralda huffed. "Show-off."

Faeralys, trying to mask her own embarrassment, looked away with a muttered, "It's not like I care or anything."

Argider groaned, burying her face in her hands again. "Why me?"