Vana's POV

I glared at the guy, disgusted by the way he portrays my brother. My brother is nothing like how he acts or looks. He never has such as disgraceful personality. I snorted, snarling at him with mockery and dismay.

“If you’re going to dress up as Storm, you should’ve done your research. You disgust me,” I insulted, blabbering my mouth at him.

One of the bandits took a step forward to defend the fake Storm, threatening me as he places a finger on the gun’s trigger. The fake Storm stopped the guy, extending an arm at him as his eyes stayed fixated on me. I held my grip tight around my sickle’s handle; fingers curled.

“Are you calling me a fake, Vanessa?” the fake Storm taunted, chortling. “Maybe you’re the one whose faking names and identity here.”

“I am. But I am telling the truth that I know the real Storm,” I stated, grinning at him. “I know him quite well.”

His grip tightened on his fist, and he gritted his teeth, glaring at me with daggers in his eyes. “Take her and bring her out,” he ordered, before turning away. “The rest of you scram and make sure no other hostages are on the loose.”

Two bandits came to corner me, grabbing me in both sides as they take my sickle away from me. I surrendered until they have me on their hands, struggling right after they thought I surrendered to them.

I hauled them away, one of them tossed and yanked to the floor. The  bandits on my left manage to stay and grab hold of me, but it didn’t last after I pulled his gun from his holster, shooting him on the leg. He yelped in pain, falling to one knee as the bullet pierce through his thigh.

I took my sickle from the fallen bandit, pointing the gun from to the fake Storm. The fake Storm peered over his shoulder, glancing at me with slitted eyes. I glowered back at him, a cold gaze piercing out of my eyes.

“You have potential. For someone who don’t use weaponized magic, you are competent,” the fake Storm stated, turning around to face me.

“If you truly are the real Storm, then you would know who I am and where these skills of mine come from,” I remarked, plastering a mocking smile.

“Who really are you?” he wondered, curious at my identity as a mischievous smile curl up his lips.

He laid his hand down next to him, his hands fidgeting in the air. I can feel the aura around me gathering in the fake Storm’s direction, an icy blue aura forming in his hand. So this is why he thought he could by my brother.

He uses Ice Magic.

I take a step back, preparing myself an incoming attack. It would either be me or the hostages he’ll attack. As much as I do not want to use my magic, I’ll be forced to by the situation to protect these people who are held hostage.

I can use my magic as long as I’m only trying to protect someone. But if I were to use my magic in battle, I’d rather admit defeat than using my destructive weaponized magic against an opponent.

Ice began to form in the fake Storm’s hands, weaving into a sharp ice knife. He took a step forward, which is followed by a loud thud coming from outside the lounge. The thud turned into a crash, and we both paused, taking a glance at the commotion outside.

A guy came crashing inside the room, flying through the air as he breaks the door into splinters. The door broke and shattered into pieces, the guy landing on the fake Storm. They both crashed to the ground, colliding as they both fall.

Wails and screams showered in the room, the crowd of hostages moving and dashing away from my side of the room. I took a defensive stance, a gun pointed in front of me, while my sickle held on a reverse grip as my other hand.

Smoke burst in the air as the door break and the wall around it collapsed. My eyes turned into slits, trying to look through the smoke. A woman walked through the smoke with a dominating aura, an icy atmosphere chilling in the air.

“I arrived in the right time, didn’t I, Storm?” the fake Vana said, appearing out of the smoke with ice floating in her hands. It seems even she can use Ice Magic.

Why am I not surprised?

The woman locked eyes with me, noticing my presence in the room. A small smile perked up her lips, a corner of it curling up. She raised her head up, approaching me.

“How cute… someone tried to attack us without knowing how much danger she could be in…” the fake Vana mused.

I almost laughed, snorting. I swallowed it, feeling goosebumps rise on my skin as I resist the urge. Her appearance as she pretends is already audacious enough. She even tries to impersonate me with much exaggeration and sass. If she’s going to act as me, at least do it right.

I feel annoyed just by her presence, and I can’t help but let a little bit of my aura. My aura simmered in the air, creating a cold tension between us. I had to distract them while I use my magic to free the hostages. The tension was interrupted after the guy who crashed stood up, a rush of aura surging out of him.

A shiver ran down my spine as I turn to look at the guys, recognizing the aura pouring out of him. Its definitely gray-kind of aura. The guy wore a similar semi-formal like many of the hostages, his sleeve ripped after being injured.

My eyes widened as I recognize the emblem in his arm, revealed from his ripped sleeve. Golden Scorpion. Our rival guild. But why is someone from the Golden Scorpion doing here?

“You’re strong for someone whose faking someone else’s identity,” the guy said, scoffing at our direction.

My mouth gaped after I finally recognize who the guy was. Of course, the only person who is a member of the Golden Scorpion and is also a student of the academy.

The S-Class wizard, Jerome Gallamon. But what is he doing here?

The atmosphere between the three of us rose. The fake Vana focused her attention on Jerome, pointing her hand with an icicle on him. Oh, I am starting to get extremely irritated. First, someone impersonated me, now someone from our rival guild shows up and joins the fight.

Just when I thought things are all set, another problem arises. The fake Storm stood up from the rubble, a pissed off expression plastered on his face. The fake Storm had his magic ready to charge in his hand, also aiming at Jerome.

“Oh, seriously—watch out!” I mumbled, before shouting at Jerome.

Jerome snapped, long enough for him to dodge and escape his position. The two fake Farasol siblings charged at him, striking him with their magic. Jerome jumped as ice magic clashes in the air, sending a wave of aura spewing across the room.

I blocked the debris with my arms, taking cover as the two fake siblings—if they are truly siblings—turn their heads at me. Jerome landed on his feet behind them, striking them with his magic.

Wind gushed in the air, whirling ravishly. Jerome commanded the wind, willing it as the wind charges the fake Vana and Storm with a tornado. The two tried to escape it, blocking the attack only to be blown away by it to the floor.

The fake Vana was the first to be back on her feet, creating ice shards in the air. She wielded them and pointed it at Jerom. The fake Storm, on the other hand, snapped his attention to me. He staggered up his feet, one hand forming an ice sword.

The more this fight continues, the more the innocent passengers will get hurt.

“You gave me no choice,” I mumbled, focusing my aura in emitting my magic.

I activated my magic, willing my icy aura to purse through my hands. I could feel my magic burning in my hands, my aura simmering in the air as it crawls out to my surroundings. Ice froze in the palm of my hands, travelling down across the room.

I froze the ropes tied around the hostages, breaking them. The walls, floor, and ceiling frozen in ice. The temperature dropped inside the room. I let out my magic, lifting my hand as I break the ice shards that the fake Vana created. The shards broke in the air, and I wield it to myself, demanding it to listen to my command.

I manipulated the broken ice shards, turning them into icicles. I commanded the icicles and aimed it at the fake Storm and Vana, gazing at them with a cold stare that sends shivers down their spines. I tilted my head diagonally at them, raising my chin.

“Enough of these games. And enough with your impersonations. I’ve already seen through you,” I stated. “How dare you disguise yourself as me and my brother.”

“W-What do you mean?” the fake Vana stammered. “W-who really are you?”

“Me? Oh, so you don’t even recognize the lady you are trying to impersonate. If you’re going to impersonate me or my brother, Storm, please do a better job next time,” I said, musing with a glooming tone.

“You—Are you—”

“Have you realized it now?” I wondered, replying to the fake Storm. “I am the real Vana Farasol. The real sister of Storm Farasol, and the girl that you have been impersonating.”