Vichel gives a beautiful bright blue hair ribbon to her best friend.
"For me?" Jacelin's eyes sparkle with joy as she receives the ribbon.
"Yes, I bought two of them. I'm already wearing mine." Vichel shows her shoulder-length blonde hair, tied up in a high braid and adorned with the blue ribbon. "The fabric is light and soft, so it definitely won't get in the way during battle."
"Thank you so much, Vichel! I'll wear it, and I'll cheer the loudest when you step onto the stage later."
Jacelin, too excited as she raised her hand, accidentally let go of the blue ribbon in her grasp. The wind quickly caught it, lifting it higher into the air.
"Ah! The ribbon!"
The two girls are startled. Seeing a nearby stack of wooden crates piled high, Jacelin instinctively dashes forward and leaps onto them, feeling like she might still be able to reach the flying blue ribbon.
Grab!
The blue ribbon reaches Tseryo's hand on the second-floor balcony first.
Jacelin is startled, but her jump has already left the ground, sending her off balance and about to fall. Tseryo's hands quickly grip her arms tightly, and with all his strength, he helps pull the girl up to the second floor.
"Jacelin!" Vichel shouted anxiously.
Jacelin safely makes it up to the second floor thanks to Tseryo's help. She lets out a sigh of relief, her heart still pounding rapidly.
"Thank you..."
Tseryo hands the blue ribbon to Jacelin.
"You should be more careful with your actions, Miss Lurca."
Those words sound offensive to Jacelin. A spark of sarcasm ignites in response.
"Oh, sorry. I've made Young Master Lavrel break a sweat just to help me."
"Not a single drop. I'm just worried about what ridiculous headlines might appear if the daughter of Duke Lurca were to fall into a pile of wooden crates."
Tseryo's retort is just as sarcastic, seemingly intended to provoke Jacelin even further.
"Oh, Young Master Lavrel is so thoughtful. I feel like asking a reporter to write a five-page article about your heroic act just now."
"That's far too much of an honor—I couldn't possibly accept it."
A cold war laced with sarcastic remarks between a noble son and daughter.
Tseryo's smile—charming in the eyes of other girls—feels utterly revolting to Jacelin.
Until Vichel's arrival finally put an end to the debate between those so-called highborns.
"Jacelin..." Vichel comes half-running, her face filled with worry. "Are you alright?"
"Yes, I'm alright—thanks to Young Master Lavrel's help."
Jacelin means to be sarcastic, but Tseryo ignores her and steps closer to Vichel instead. Jacelin's face tightens, trying to hold back her irritation.
"Vichel, may I know which group you've registered with?"
They're both participants in the battlemage competition.
"Group C."
"Great, I'm in Group A. Hopefully, we'll meet in the semifinals or finals."
There's a spark of enthusiasm and a bright smile on Tseryo's face.
But doubt clouds Vichel's expression. "Yeah, hopefully… though I'm not so sure, since Lugia Walner is in Group C too."
"Ah, Lugia Walner is nothing compared to you. There's no need to worry about her."
"Huh?" Vichel doesn't expect Tseryo to have such an opinion.
The tall young master continues walking away with a slight wave of his hand. "Good luck."
Jacelin moves closer to Vichel's side with a curious expression.
"You two seem close. He called you 'Vichel'."
"I've sparred with Tseryo a few times."
"Really? How strong is he?"
"Honestly, if I faced him in the arena, I don't think I could win."
"Don't be so pessimistic, Vichel. Tseryo Lavrel is just all show."
Vichel lets out a quiet laugh, and they continue walking as Jacelin goes on with his story.
"My friend, Zeff, signed up in Group D. If you manage to win in Group A, you might face Zeff in the semifinals or finals. Don't let him beat you!"
Vichel's expression turns slightly sullen as she recalls an unpleasant memory. "Jacelin, last year you went back to Loudhe during the competition, right?"
"Yeah, even though you competed last year too. Are you still upset that I didn't come to watch you?"
"That's not it. I was so upset I ended up forgetting to tell you. In last year's competition, I was in the same group as Zeff. And... he threw me out of the arena."
Jacelin is stunned by the unexpected story. Her only reaction is an awkward laugh.
"Oh... that happened, huh? Ahaha, sometimes Zeff can be annoying, but believe me, he's a good guy—much better than Tseryo Lavrel, who's always smiling but you can never tell what's going on in his head."
Vichel lets out a sigh, trying to shake off the irritating memory in her head. Jacelin knows she needs to quickly shift her friend's attention.
"How about we grab some juice at the café before the match starts? It'll give you more energy. Remember your favorite blueberry juice~"
Vichel instantly brightens up. "Great idea, let's go!"
.
The announcer's voice still dominates the stage.
"The grand prize in this year's competition is truly special—a rare elemental equipment!"
Two staff members carry the grand prize box onto the stage, still covered with a white cloth, sparking curiosity among the audience—including Zeff and Tseryo, who are watching the event from two different places.
"Here it is, the prize for the champion of the 77th Battlemage Competition... the elemental orb... ARZECHLOUS!!"
A staff member pulls away the white cloth covering the box, revealing to the entire audience a glowing white crystal orb, floating inside an elegant glass case.
On the continent of Arkha, orbs are a type of elemental equipment that grant buffs to their users—especially to battlemages. The power stored within an orb can enhance elemental strength, boost speed, sharpen focus and precision, or even generate protective shields.
Zeff's gaze remains fixed on the elemental orb presented as the competition's prize.
"The elemental orb Arzechlous is crafted from a rare material once believed to exist only in legend. However, the artificer team from Verlyn Academy managed to discover it during an expedition. The Faculty Council unanimously agreed to make it the grand prize for this year's competition. The protective shield granted by this orb is the strongest of its kind. Don't miss your chance to become this year's champion!"
.
Zoi Zirly, a girl with reddish hair, dressed in the black-and-teal uniform of the artificer department, walks alone while sipping a purple drink through a white straw. She scans her surroundings intently, clearly looking for someone.
Zeff's sudden landing right in front of her gives the girl a heart attack.
"ZEFF!"
"Hey, Zoi, did you hear about the grand prize for this year's competition?"
"Arzechlous Orb, right? Of course—I was on the expedition team that found the material six months ago."
"Really?"
Zoi strikes a dramatic pose. "Ah, at last, I've made a meaningful contribution to the academy in my final year."
"As far as I know, only the Grand Master possesses an orb like that. That's why it's such a surprise they're offering it as a competition prize now."
"That means the Grand Master is hoping someone will become a worthy bearer of an orb like his. You get what I'm saying, right? Finding the material was incredibly difficult—crafting it into an orb was even harder. Don't waste the artificer team's efforts. You have to become the one who claims the Arzechlous Orb!"
Zeff stands in stunned silence at Zoi's words—the typical talkative girl.
Zoi forms a magic circle of her dimensional bag. "I was looking for you earlier—here."
A small leaf-green orb emerges from the magic circle. "I've upgraded your orb. I managed to fuse it with Amyer material. When you unleash your strongest attack, the damage can reach up to three times as much."
Zeff looks genuinely impressed as he takes back the green orb, which seamlessly sinks into the back of his right hand.
"Awesome. Having a friend from the artificer class really comes in handy."
"Took me over 12 hours to fuse the material, so make good use of it!"
"Okay, okay. Have you even had enough sleep?" Zeff gestures toward the dark circles under Zoi's eyes. The girl clicks her tongue in annoyance and looks away.
"Fight seriously. Win the Arzechlous Orb."
"Have I ever not taken a match seriously?"
Suddenly, Zeff takes a sip of the purple drink in Zoi's hand—through the same white straw she's been using. Zoi jolts in surprise, her cheeks flushing red.
"I'm going to win," Zeff says after taking a sip, flashing a warm smile. "Thanks."
The young man walks away, leaving Zoi frozen in place, blushing and stunned.
"What is wrong with him?!"
Zoi stares at the straw Zeff just used, then casually takes another sip through the same straw, walking off as if nothing happened.
As the announcement rings out, "All battlemage competition participants are requested to enter the waiting room, as the competition is about to begin."