That morning, Elaine woke up with mixed feelings. She quickly prepared herself and had breakfast with Elvan before heading toward the tournament arena where the long-awaited final would soon take place.

  Just as they stepped out of the mansion, the rhythmic sound of approaching horse hooves echoed through the street. A carriage, opulent with gold filigree, rolled to a halt before the gate. It was the private carriage of the Duke’s family.

  The coachman stepped down at once and bowed respectfully to the two of them.

  “I have been sent by Lady Selena to escort you. Please, come in.”

  “Ah, thank you!” Elaine climbed into the carriage, its interior lined with soft velvet. “Look, Elvan! Lady Selena truly supports our struggle.”

  “You’re right,” Elvan replied shortly, his sharp gaze already fixed toward the distant arena.

  —*

  As they traveled toward the stadium, a festive atmosphere filled the city. At the center of the arena field, elite mages from the Duke’s residence stood in a circle, chanting in a complex combined casting technique.

  A massive bright-blue magic circle materialized, covering the entire stadium. The mages slammed their staffs down in unison.

  “Weather Control”—a sixth-circle high-tier spell.

  In an instant, the gloomy clouds blanketing the city were swept away, replaced by a clear blue sky. The sun shone brilliantly, warming the city that had been frozen by snowfall.

  “Wow, isn’t this incredible? It’s my first time seeing large-scale combined magic!” one spectator exclaimed in awe.

  “You’re right. The Duke’s military power is terrifying. Using high-tier mages just to adjust the weather for an event… that’s an insane display of power.”

  The magical spectacle served as a dazzling opening performance for both commoners and nobles alike. Far more nobles attended than the previous day, as news of the Duke’s personal appearance had spread widely.

  For lower-ranking nobles, this was a golden opportunity. Even exchanging a glance with the Duke was an honor they could boast about at every social banquet.

  Elaine gazed at the sky in admiration. As a mage blessed with the Stigma Mana Blessing, she dreamed that one day she too would command mana with such mastery as those sixth-circle mages.

  Upon arriving at the stadium, Elvan headed to the contestant waiting room, while Elaine was guided by a personal attendant to the VIP seats near the Duke’s throne.

  There, Selena sat elegantly beside her father. When their eyes met, Elaine offered the most respectful greeting she could. However, her presence in the VIP section drew sharp whispers from surrounding nobles.

  “Hey, look at that. Isn’t that the commoner who’s always glued to Lady Selena?”

  “You’re right. I heard her brother is competing in the final. Quite clever—must be very close to Lady Selena.”

  “Tch, just a lucky commoner,” sneered a noblewoman from the back row.

  Elaine tried to ignore the envious murmurs. She scanned the VIP stands, searching for someone—Rey Lucien. But the silver-haired man was nowhere to be seen.

  Just as she turned her attention back to the arena, a gentle voice spoke beside her.

  “Excuse me… may I sit here?”

  “Ah!” Elaine startled slightly. When she turned, she recognized the girl from the marketplace—the brown-haired girl who had been with Rey.

  Now seated in the VIP section, Len cradled a small white puppy in her arms. Though her attire was simple by VIP standards, Elaine sensed something different about her—an elegant and composed aura far beyond her age.

  “This is our first formal meeting. My name is Len,” she greeted gracefully. “You look like you’re searching for someone,” she added with a faint smile.

  “No… I was just looking around. Nice to meet you, Len. I’m Elaine.”

  “I don’t mean to meddle,” Len said while gazing toward the arena, “but it seems you have no intention of forgiving Rey. It’s rare to see a commoner stand so firmly against a high-ranking noble.”

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  Elaine fell silent at the direct remark, gripping her skirt tightly.

  “I’m only speaking the truth. Asteria suffered because of him. If I forgive him easily, it would belittle my friend’s pain. What he did cannot simply be erased.”

  “Morally, you’re not wrong,” Len replied, gently stroking the sleeping Chorma. “But… have you ever considered how hard someone must struggle to correct their mistakes? Especially a stubborn person who insists on carrying every burden alone?”

  Elaine frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “Even when facing destruction, he hides his problems and tries to solve everything by himself,” Len continued without looking at her.

  “Destruction? What destruction are you talking about?” Elaine began to feel uneasy.

  “I happened to meet him during my travels. He didn’t look anything like the scoundrel described in rumors. Look—he even keeps something adorable like this,” Len said, patting Chorma’s head softly. “But pay me no mind. After all, if he were to... fade away one day, wouldn't that be the happy ending you all desire?"

  Elaine lowered her head, her voice uncertain. “…That would be a fitting punishment for him.”

  “Keep thinking that way if it brings you peace,” Len said casually. “Just a small piece of advice: the world isn’t as simple as black and white. Well then, I’ll leave so I don’t disturb your focus in supporting your brother.”

  Len stood and walked away, leaving Elaine frozen in place. Her thoughts churned after the brief but piercing conversation.

  “Destruction? What did she mean?”

  Elaine hated Rey’s past behavior, but deep down she knew his actions had not caused permanent physical harm. Yes, his obsession had been sick and disgusting, and Asteria had suffered trauma from the confinement. But Asteria was recovering.

  The Asteria Elaine knew was not weak—she would not be destroyed forever by one person’s wrongdoing. Even after losing her noble status, she still stood tall and smiled.

  “Am I… being too harsh?”

  Before Elaine could sink deeper into doubt, the roar of the crowd suddenly exploded. In the center of the field, Elvan and Alex entered the arena to begin the long-awaited final battle.

  ---

  Inside the arena, the two young men stood facing each other. Elvan assumed his stance, eyes locked onto Alex’s every movement. After a brief respectful greeting, both prepared themselves.

  The moment the referee shouted the start, Elvan dashed forward, launching a swift vertical slash toward Alex’s left shoulder.

  Alex skillfully blocked with his blade. Neither yielded, exchanging strikes while searching for the smallest opening. The intensity escalated rapidly; cheers thundered through the massive stadium.

  After a heavy clash, Elvan leapt back two steps. “Alex… you’ve improved quickly.”

  “Just because it was vacation doesn’t mean I was idle,” Alex replied firmly.

  This time, Alex charged. He delivered a diagonal slash toward Elvan’s neck. Elvan ducked swiftly and countered with a straight thrust toward Alex’s face, but Alex twisted away. The tip of Alex’s sword grazed Elvan’s shoulder, leaving a thin red line.

  Seeing the blood, Elvan realized Alex’s technique was far sharper than what he had seen at the Academy. In pure technique, Alex now stood slightly above him.

  Elvan closed his eyes briefly, steadying his breath. It was time to fight seriously.

  He began channeling mana through his veins, converting it into surging energy. A faint white aura enveloped his body. Alex frowned as the air pressure shifted.

  Alex was still at the first stage of Aura usage, while Elvan stood on the brink of the second. A thin gap—yet in battle, it was a vast chasm.

  Elvan surged forward, executing a horizontal slash strengthened by aura-enhanced muscles. Alex blocked, but his hands trembled violently under the heavier force.

  With no choice left, Alex activated his own aura.

  Now both fought wrapped in intense energy, moving so fast that ordinary spectators struggled to follow.

  “Look at that! Aren’t they both under nineteen?” someone whispered in awe.

  “I heard they’re elite students from the Imperial Academy. No wonder their strength is absurd!”

  In the VIP section, the Duke observed with narrowed eyes. “What do you think?” he asked Selena.

  “Elvan is in Class S, while Alex is in Class A. There should be a wide gap, yet Alex has closed it remarkably,” Selena answered objectively.

  “You’re right. Even if he is the son of a concubine, Lucien blood still flows in him.”

  The Duke’s cold praise sparked murmurs among the nobles. They compared talented Alex with Rey, long branded as the family’s disgrace.

  Another clash echoed. Alex’s breathing grew ragged, his stamina draining to compensate for the aura difference. Elvan, meanwhile, remained composed.

  Cornered yet refusing to yield, Alex drew strength from the Lucien name and the responsibility to save the Southeastern border.

  He roared forward, unleashing a relentless barrage without pause, forcing Elvan back several steps. Surprise flashed across Elvan’s face—but then his heroic instinct awakened.

  His black pupils shimmered blue. A faint bright-blue aura began to coat his blade.

  The knights watching leapt to their feet.

  “Incredible! Captain, isn’t that—?”

  “Yes. Aura Coating,” the Knight Captain said, stroking his chin. “He has manifested the true color of his aura and condensed it onto his weapon. To achieve that at such a young age… he must have reached the second stage. Terrifying talent indeed.”

  This collision was far more violent. Alex was blown backward, crashing onto the arena floor. Yet he forced himself to stand again. He knew he couldn’t win against Aura Coating—but his pride forbade surrender.

  “Alex, stop!” Elvan shouted. “If you keep forcing yourself, you’ll destroy your body!”

  “Elvan… I have a reason I can’t let go!” Alex poured every last ounce of strength into one final strike.

  Elvan responded with his finishing blow, seeking to end his friend’s suffering. The blue-coated blade clashed against the fading white aura blooming around Alex’s sword.

  Alex’s sword shattered in two.

  He fell to his knees, breath fractured, unable to support himself. The crowd erupted in cheers, but amidst the chaos, Alex stared blankly at his broken blade.

  “WINNER: ELVAN!” the referee declared.

  Thunderous applause followed.

  Alex slowly rose, offering Elvan a final respectful salute with trembling hands. He walked toward the exit corridor, gripping the broken hilt tightly.

  In this world, cheers belonged only to the victor—while the defeated were swallowed by shadows.

  At the end of the dark corridor, a silver-haired young man stood waiting.

  “You fought very well, Alex,” Rey said gently, welcoming his younger brother who returned with wounds and devastation in his eyes.