The "okay" of the professor wasn't loud, but…
the sound of that single word carried across the arena like a spark.
Seraphine was the first to act. Her wand spun once, and a flare of violet mana shot outward—a circle of light forming around her. Five orbs of fire blinked into existence and shot toward Sylwen in a quick, controlled volley.
They weren't weak—each could've burned through wood or dented stone—but Sylwen didn't even flinch.
She raised one hand, palm open, and a whisper of green light spread across her body. Vines burst from the sand, coiling upward like living shields. The fireballs struck them—exploding harmlessly into bursts of smoke and cinders.
The audience gasped.
"She blocked all five…" "Spirit vines!" "No, that's not ordinary magic—that's spirit assistance!"
They were right. The faint shimmer around Sylwen's body wasn't just mana—it was the sign of a spirit's presence.
A faint, translucent form hovered behind her for an instant—barely visible, shaped like a small sylph with fluttering wings—before vanishing again.
But only elves could see them clearly. Others could only glimpse them when elves actively used their power—and even then, not very well. However, powerful spirits—the kind wielded by Powerhouses or SS-Rank mages—could be seen clearly by anyone.
Sylwen stepped forward, her expression unchanged. The vines unraveled from the ground, shifting their form into long, whip-like tendrils that danced around her like green ribbons.
Seraphine grinned. "Pretty. Let's see how long that lasts."
With a flick of her wand, a gust of wind scattered the sand—and lightning surged between her fingers. A storm spell. Fast and aggressive.
The first bolt struck one of Sylwen's vine shields, splitting it apart with a sharp crack. The second came a moment later, faster, aimed straight for her chest.
Sylwen moved her hand, and the faint glow in her eyes deepened.
A wall of blooming flowers erupted from the ground—not fragile petals, but hardened mana-constructs that deflected the lightning with a flash of green light. The air filled with the scent of grass and rain.
Seraphine clicked her tongue. "You're not making this fun."
Sylwen's response was calm, soft. "I'm not here for fun."
She lifted both hands, and the spirit behind her appeared again—clearer this time. The ground trembled. Roots erupted in a circular pattern, racing outward toward Seraphine like living serpents.
Seraphine laughed and jumped back, her violet robes flaring around her. "Alright then, let's make this interesting."
The gems on her wrist flared—six runes lighting up in sequence. Mana condensed in front of her into a swirling sphere, shifting between red and violet hues—a dual-element spell, rare and dangerous.
The fact that Seraphine could also use magic through sigils just showed how skilled she was.
A murmur of awe spread through the students. Even Professor Thane's eyes narrowed slightly.
But Sylwen didn't retreat.
She took one slow breath, her hair fluttering around her like strands of light. A faint whisper of a song—soft, melodic, almost too quiet to hear—seemed to hum from the air itself.
Then, all at once, the world around her moved.
Wind bent around her form. The dust that Seraphine's earlier spells had stirred settled in a spiral. And the spirit behind her grew larger—its shape still difficult to see, but clearly there.
A collective gasp spread through the spectators.
"Spirit manifestation— even better!?" "No way, she can summon one that stable?"
Even Seraphine looked momentarily surprised. "Okay, that's… impressive."
Seraphine likes magic so much that it doesn't matter if it's magic of friend or foe,if it's good she gets excited.
Sylwen lowered her hand. "You should yield, Seraphine. This will hurt."
Seraphine smirked. "Then make it hurt."
The spells collided.
The violet-red sphere shot forward—flaring with fire and thunder—and met the wall of emerald energy conjured by Sylwen's spirit. For a heartbeat, the two forces clashed—a storm of color and noise that sent ripples through the arena floor.
The shockwave blasted through the air, making students flinch. Sand rose, the ground cracked, and mana scattered like shattered glass.
When the light faded, Sylwen still stood in the same spot—unmoving. The roots around her had formed a dome, blackened but unbroken.
Seraphine stumbled back, panting, her hair disheveled, her wand hand trembling slightly. "You—really don't joke around."
Sylwen's tone remained calm. "Neither should you."
The elf moved forward, and with a gesture, the ground beneath Seraphine's feet rippled. Vines wrapped around her ankles, climbing fast. She cut one, then another, but they kept coming—dozens of them, blooming with faint light.
A moment later, her wand was pinned to her side, her movement restricted.
Sylwen stopped just outside the vine's reach, her voice soft. "Match over."
Professor Thane didn't hesitate. "Winner—Sylwen Starleaf."
Applause broke out instantly. It wasn't the loud, chaotic kind that followed Alaric's duel—it was more reverent, awed.
Even among elves, spirit magic wasn't something casually displayed. And to manifest a spirit form that clear at her age was something extraordinary.
Sylwen released the spell, and the vines crumbled into motes of green light that drifted away like pollen in sunlight. The faint spirit behind her bowed once before fading completely.
Seraphine, brushing sand off her robe, let out a short laugh. "You win. Fair and square. I'll admit, I didn't think magic could hit that hard."
Sylwen shook her head gently. "It's not about power. It's about harmony."
Seraphine tilted her head, amused. "Harmony, huh? Maybe I should try that instead of coffee."
That earned a ripple of laughter from the nearby students. Even Sylwen smiled faintly—a small, rare expression that made her seem almost human for a moment.
As they both left the arena, the conversation among the students exploded.
"I thought Seraphine had her—how'd Sylwen break through?" "That spirit—it was almost like a guardian!" "Did you see how her mana moved? It wasn't forced—it flowed naturally!"
I listened quietly, still leaning on the railing.
Seraphine now have gotten much stronger than before. Finally her skills in fight are catching with that of theory.
The way Sylwen fought was unlike the others. There was no aggression, no desperation. Every movement had purpose, every spell a rhythm.
If Alaric's swordsmanship was precision sharpened through effort—
Then Sylwen's was grace shaped by instinct.
Two different kinds of strength.
And both of them—rising fast.
As the cheers faded and Professor Thane called for the next pair, I glanced again toward Sylwen as she rejoined the others. Her hair caught the wind, glimmering faintly under the sun. She wasn't smiling anymore—just quietly composed.
But I could see it, faint and unmistakable—
the confidence of someone who didn't need to prove her power.
The forest elf who had always stood quietly at the edge of the group had just shown everyone what real harmony with mana looked like.
And judging by the stunned faces all around the arena—
no one would be forgetting Sylwen Starleaf anytime soon.
But this much power wasn't enough for her own satisfaction.
Sigh.
Everyone is struggling in their own way.
A few more matches went by, but I was confused.
The Hero was supposed to fight Roderick, but I fought him instead—so who would fight the Hero now?
Soon, the answer came.
The next match drew a noticeable stir from the students.
Professor Thane's voice echoed through the arena, steady as ever.
"Next — Liora Blackthorn versus Thalia Trystan."
The moment he said Thalia, whispers broke out immediately.
"The Hero herself…"
"She's fighting, finally?"
"I think she must be the strongest first-year."
Liora vs. the Hero—or should I say…
Liora Blackthorn versus Thalia Trystan.
Now, those thinking the Hero will finally show her holy sword will be disappointed—because she won't.
You see, a Hero is someone who can wield a holy sword, but that doesn't mean they must always fight with it. For training, Heroes often use normal weapons, and generally—though not always—they are magic swordsmen. So they learn magic, swordsmanship, and many other disciplines.
Then what about the holy sword?
The holy sword remains where it was first summoned—in the Empire. And when the Hero needs it, they can summon it. Even barriers can't stop it from coming.
The holy sword enhances magic and aura efficiency, reducing energy loss. It also boosts stamina, regeneration, and speed. The holy sword protects its wielder from negative effects such as poison and mind control.
There are many more abilities, but for now, I only mention these to show that whoever wields the holy sword receives a tremendous upgrade.
But in the end, it's still just that—an upgrade. You still have to work hard on your own.
Generally, one's talent improves when paired with a holy sword, so we've only ever seen very strong Heroes. But no matter how great the talent, it's useless without effort.
Liora is cautious about fighting the Hero—after all, the title of "Hero" carries immense weight.
But that doesn't mean she's afraid.
As soon as the professor announces their match, Liora looks directly at the Hero.
The Hero doesn't look back—obviously underestimating her.
But Liora doesn't care about that.