The Archmage Who Cares for Her Senior (3)

A groan escaped Seraphina’s lips.

She still didn’t really know what magic was.

No matter what answer she came up with, that monstrous archmage junior would only point out its flaws.

But there was one thing she could be certain of.

Magic had to bear the individual traits of its mage.

Magic without one’s own color was nothing more than an empty shell.

‘Redefine myself, huh...’

And so, Seraphina looked back on herself.

The keyword she found was none other than the myriad phenomena.

Her identity as a noble lady, and her identity as the student council president...