Then the few pairs were announced and took their turns in the ring.
After some battles, Professor Lysenna called out the next pair.
"Serena Whitheart and Tristan Rosenthal."
The silver-haired girl stretched with a casual yawn.
"Guess it's my turn now."
Rashira bumped her fist.
"Yeah, go and win."
"—And smack some ass," Serena added with a grin, then chuckled as she walked toward the ring.
Rashira's lips twitched at her vulgar choice of words.
She sighed but smiled faintly as Serena moved ahead.
Serena stepped into the center of the ring just as her opponent entered from the opposite side, a blonde-haired boy with sharp blue eyes.
A volcanic serpent was collided around his arm, molten scales glowing with heat. And he held a flame sword, burning steadily.
"I'll teach you today what it means to mock me," Tristan growled.
Serena tilted her head, clearly unimpressed.
"Who are you again?"
Tristan's jaw clenched.
"Stop playing dumb—!"
