The performances ended to soft applause, and the atmosphere shifted palpably. From artistry to battle—it was now time for the Valen youth to prove their worth.
A list shimmered in the air, projected by a robed elder using a talisman. "These are the top twenty disciples based on contribution, recent tests, and family ranking," the man announced.
Murmurs broke out as names appeared—Alina Valen was second. Serena Valen was tenth.
Taron scoffed. "Tenth? Must be pity points."
Cenya frowned. "Still… she's in the top ten."
Serena said nothing, her gaze skimming the list. The placement didn't bother her. It was expected. Her strength wasn't something they could measure—not yet.
A large circular platform rose from the center of the arena. One by one, the first matches were called. Explosions of light and bursts of elemental energy flared across the stage. Lightning met flame, water collided with earth.
Serena stood among the Valen youths, white-robed, still, and unbothered.
Alina approached from the side, her hair braided in the family's traditional high-twist style, her robe embroidered in soft violet to reflect her wind affinity.
"Serena," she said coolly, "you've healed well."
"And you've advanced," Serena replied. "Essence Vein Stage 6?"
Alina smiled. "I didn't stop training."
Their words were cordial, but their eyes said otherwise.
"Where did you disappear to, anyway?" Alina asked.
"Shadowpine forest." Serena turned her head slightly.
Alina raised a brow. "Convenient."
Serena didn't respond. Just like that, the conversation ended.
From a distance, an older cousin named Drel watched them. "Those two are going to destroy each other if they fight," he whispered to Renn.
Renn laughed nervously. "Can't wait."
The next few matches passed. Serena quietly observed, noting fighting styles, elemental affinities, and weaknesses.
Then a boy named Jorin called out, "Next match: Serena Valen versus Tyro Vane!"
The crowd stirred. Tyro was known for brute strength and a flame-infused punch technique.
Serena stepped into the ring, wind gathering at her heels. The white of her robes fluttered, her dark hair tied up with a silver thread.
Tyro grinned. "Didn't expect to fight a ghost today."
She didn't reply.
The match began with a flare of red. Tyro surged forward, fist ablaze. Serena twisted, light as air, and Sweeping Gale Palm exploded into motion.
CRACK!
The first strike hit his side. The second pushed him off his stance. The third sent him flying.
He hit the ground with a thud and didn't rise.
Gasps rippled through the crowd. Even the elders leaned forward.
"She beat him with… wind palms?" one muttered.
"No weapon?"
"She didn't even use her full strength," Alina said quietly, her fists tightening.
As Serena walked off the stage, the arena was silent for a heartbeat—then filled with roaring whispers.
The first daughter of House Valen had returned.
But no one knew the full truth—not yet.
Because the real storm was still gathering.
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