Just as the fight began, Leo's eyes sharpened, his expression growing serious. The easygoing air around him vanished, replaced by the focus of a seasoned warrior.
Briva moved first. Without hesitation, she drew both her daggers and sprinted toward him. At a distance of two meters, she launched herself into the air, slashing downward with her right dagger. Leo raised his sword and blocked the strike cleanly—but she wasn't done.
Using the momentum from her first strike, Briva swung her second dagger in a horizontal arc aimed at his exposed side. Leo's weapon was locked with her first blade, leaving him seemingly defenseless. But with a move he had learned from Rorin during one of their grueling training sessions, he twisted his wrist, sliding his blade free in a tight spiral. In one fluid motion, he brought it across just in time to block the second dagger.
Briva landed, surprised, and leapt backward to create distance.
"It seems this won't be easy," she said with a smirk, flipping one of her daggers in hand.
Leo didn't answer—he only smiled—and then dashed forward, unleashing a storm of sword strikes. His blade became a blur, a rain of steel aimed at every weak spot he could see. Briva was fast. She moved with practiced grace, dodging, parrying, and blocking each blow with agility that reminded Leo why Arthur wanted her on the crew.
At the end of the assault, Leo delivered a heavy slash aimed straight for her side. Briva bent her knees and launched herself backward in a high arc, narrowly avoiding the attack. Midair, she holstered her daggers and drew her bow in one swift motion.
An arrow flew at him with incredible speed—faster than any ordinary shot. Leo's eyes widened slightly. But he didn't flinch. With precision, he angled his sword and deflected the arrow with the flat of his blade.
The moment the arrow was knocked aside, Leo surged forward with explosive force. Every muscle in his legs tensed as he shot across the field like a bullet.
Briva's eyebrow raised—she hadn't expected that burst of speed. She tossed her bow aside and reached for her daggers, but before her fingers could close around the hilts, Leo's blade was already cutting through the air toward her waist.
In a swift move, she jumped again—this time launching herself high. She twisted in midair, and when she descended, she was upside down above him, one hand planting on his shoulder to steady herself, the other holding a dagger raised for a final strike.
She brought the blade down toward his head.
But Leo let go of his sword and raised his left hand. His fingers clamped around her wrist mid-swing, halting the dagger just inches above his forehead. The blade nicked his skin, drawing a thin line of blood, but he didn't flinch.
With a grunt, Leo pulled Briva down in front of him, using his grip on her wrist to redirect her momentum. As her feet hit the ground, still off balance, he drove a kick into her stomach. The impact sent her flying back across the field. She hit the ground hard, skidding to a stop. Her daggers slipped from her hands and clattered across the dirt.
She sat up, coughing violently. A bit of bile and saliva escaped her lips. Despite the pain, her eyes were clear. She hadn't expected to be overpowered like that.
Leo stood still, chest rising and falling evenly. He knew she was strong—by their system, she would easily be classified as a B-minus. But this was a physical-only match. Without magic, it came down to skill, strength, and timing.
"Winner: Victor Black," Carian announced from the sidelines, his voice calm but firm.
Leo stepped forward and offered Briva his hand.
"Who's your champion?" he asked, helping her up.
A voice answered before Carian could speak.
"I'll go."
Everyone turned to the speaker. It was a woman Leo had come to recognize well over the past week—the one who had showed him to the library. Mirana. Briva's mother. Her presence radiated calm strength, and her eyes were focused now, like a blade drawn from its sheath.
Carian hesitated. "Are you sure?"
"She is my daughter," Mirana said, her voice resolute.
Just as Mirana began walking toward the field, the crowd erupted into cheers.
Leo stood still, watching her approach. He could feel her power. Even without fighting, her presence radiated strength. Her aura alone was enough to warn him that she was no ordinary opponent.
As she stepped into the field, a strange weapon materialized in her hand—a blade that looked like a katana, but longer and more flexible, like a whip forged from hardened steel. Its unnatural shape and sudden appearance confirmed one thing, magic was allowed in this duel.
Accepting the challenge, Leo discarded his standard sword and raised his hand. From his palm, the Thorn emerged, its hilt forming in his grasp like it had been waiting for this moment.
Arthur and Carian both reacted visibly, surprise flashing in their eyes at the sight of Leo's weapon.
Leo and Mirana now stood face to face in the center of the field, their eyes locked. The moment the start of the match was announced, both vanished in a burst of speed—so fast that to anyone below B-rank, it looked as if they had teleported, disappearing and reappearing with explosive force.
Their blades collided in a violent clash, releasing a shockwave that rippled through the arena. Most of the spectators had to shield their faces or stumble back from the sheer force of it, while a few—Arthur among them—stood firm, though their clothes flared from the impact.
After a brief pause, Leo and Mirana leapt back, then charged again. Steel met steel in a blur of movement, each strike a test of power, precision, and speed. The ground shook with their footwork, and the pressure from their blows pushed the spectators even farther back.
As their battle intensified, Mirana's blade began to glow with a violet light, its edges crackling with energy. She surged forward, slashing with a force that Leo barely blocked—but the power behind it was overwhelming. The impact launched him across the field, flipping through the air.
She prepared to strike again before he could land, her sword raised for a finishing blow—but then, shadows erupted from the ground around her.
Four phantoms of Leo emerged, each wielding a different weapon. They rushed her simultaneously, forcing her into defense. She spun, slashed, and danced through them with expert precision, cutting down each illusion with swift, practiced strikes. The moment the last phantom vanished into mist, her eyes turned—and Leo was already back on his feet, Thorn pulsing with red energy in his hand.
A soft violet glow shimmered along Mirana's edge, flickering like lightning trapped in steel. It vibrated with a hum that seemed to resonate through the very air. In response, Leo's weapon began to thrum with raw power, a deep red aura spilling out like blood drawn from the earth itself. The energy pulsed in time with his heartbeat.
Their clash resumed, fiercer than before. Each blow now sent concussive shockwaves rippling across the field, blowing dust into the air and shaking the ground beneath them. Spectators braced themselves as a handful of elven mages raised a dome of shimmering magic around the arena to protect the crowd from the growing chaos.
Mirana's speed suddenly surged. Her irises glowed with intense violet light as she vanished from view for a split second—then reappeared inches from Leo. Her katana-like sword swung with unnatural speed in a wide arc meant to cleave him in half.
But Leo didn't back down. Veins bulged across his arms and neck, glowing with crimson energy. With a loud grunt, he brought Thorn up just in time. Steel met steel with a deafening clang that cracked the air like thunder.
Their faces were inches apart, eyes locked. Grit met grace.
"You're not the only one with a boost ability," Leo muttered with a smirk, voice rough and low.
With a roar, Thorn ignited in a bloody flare. "Blood Slash!"
A scythe of pressurized, blazing-red blood-energy burst from the blade. The sheer force of the attack launched Mirana off her feet. She flew backward across the field, her boots barely touching the ground as she twisted mid-air and landed hard against the barrier's wall.
A cloud of dust rose—thick, gritty, and blinding. When it cleared, she was still standing, completely unharmed. Behind her, dozens of thick, violet-flowered branches had grown in an instant to cushion her impact. Their petals still fluttering down like snowflakes.
'She conjured in that situation… Incredible,' Leo thought, his eyes narrowing.
Before the dust had fully settled, ten phantoms rose around him, each one dripping with blood-like energy, far more corporeal than before. They resembled warped versions of himself, each armed with different weapons—an axe, a glaive, twin sabers, even a spear.
The first phantom lunged at Mirana with a roar. She cut it cleanly through the chest—but as it disintegrated, a burst of pure energy exploded from within: Mana Surge Snare. The trap pulsed with destabilizing force, shaking the ground beneath her.
But Mirana barely flinched. Three more phantoms flanked her from different angles. One came low, another from above, the third from her side. With the grace of a dancer and the precision of a blade master, she whirled in place, her long sword carving a perfect spiral in the air. The phantom bodies dissolved before her—but each of them flashed orange.
Boom. Boom. BOOM. The triple Explosion Traps erupted in a furious shockwave, engulfing the center of the arena.
A moment later, emerging from the fire, was a dome of gnarled wooden branches—charred, but intact—wrapped tightly around her like armor.
She stepped forward, barely even breathing hard. Without a word, she drove her sword into the earth. The ground around Leo cracked with a rumble as jagged roots burst upward like serpents striking prey. Leo flipped into the air, his remaining phantoms following close behind.
But four were too slow. The vines caught them mid-jump, crushing them in a violent squeeze. Blood burst from their forms before they dissolved into mist, leaving only two phantoms at his side.
Leo didn't hesitate. He conjured a platform mid-air beneath his boots, then launched himself forward, his sword pulsing with energy. The first remaining phantom rocketed above Mirana and detonated, which caused the Gravity Trap to activate, pressing down like an invisible hammer.
The second attacked from her blind side. As she slashed through it, another Mana Surge Snare burst against her defenses.
This time, the combination visibly slowed her. Another platform shaped in front of Leo. He stood at its edge, Thorn glowing with condensed blood energy, rippling as if alive. The sword absorbed the blood from all destroyed phantoms. Red aura crackled up his arms.
Mirana, however, was far from finished. A violet aura blazed around her, lifting strands of her hair in the pressure. Her sword's glow intensified, and the entire air around her shimmered, warping with raw mana. The vines behind her bloomed into full blossom, releasing waves of floral energy.
The two charged. One red. One violet. Screams of wind tore through the field as both blades came within striking distance—when suddenly—
CLANG!
A blur of silver and black appeared between them. It was Arthur. His sword blocked Mirana's glowing blade, his sheath intercepted Leo's charged strike. Both attacks froze in an instant. No explosion. No flash. Just the unnatural silence that followed immense power being halted by something even stronger.
Arthur stood firm, his feet dug slightly into the ground from the force he absorbed.
"That's enough," he said calmly, his tone as sharp as the blade he wielded. "You're both getting a little too excited."
Leo staggered back a step, blinking in disbelief. He'd unleashed one of his strongest attacks—and Arthur stopped it with barely a strain. But he didn't argue.
Arthur turned toward Carian. "Well? Do you still doubt we can protect your daughter?"
Carian didn't respond at first. He looked to Mirana, whose sword had returned to its dormant state. She gave him a firm, quiet nod.
Then he turned to Briva, who was watching with awe and concern. After a pause, Carian exhaled and spoke. "You have my permission."