The referee watched as Knox and Jule took their positions across the arena, standing at a measured distance while keeping their eyes locked on each other.
Seeing that both sides were ready, he slowly raised his hand.
For a brief moment, the entire stadium fell silent.
Then his hand dropped. "Start the match!"
The moment the referee gave the signal, the arena grew quiet as if the entire space had been pressed down at once, leaving only Knox and Jule standing across from each other at a measured distance.
Knox remained where he was, his posture relaxed and unbothered, his hands hanging loosely at his sides while his gaze stayed fixed on Jule, calm and observant, as if he were simply taking in what stood in front of him rather than preparing to attack.
Jule, on the other side, did not move either, his hand resting lightly on the handle of his sword without any intention of drawing it, his presence steady yet strangely difficult to grasp, giving off a feeling that something was off even though nothing had happened yet.
For a brief moment, the arena stayed completely still, the kind of silence that made the spectators unconsciously hold their breath as they waited for something to happen.
Then, Jule made his move.
It was not a step, nor was it a swing, but merely a slight shift of his hand on the handle of his sword, so subtle that most people would not even notice it if they blinked at the wrong time.
Yet at that exact moment, something had already crossed the space between them.
There was no visible slash, no arc, and no sign of movement, as if the process itself had been removed, leaving only the result behind.
Knox's eyes sharpened slightly as he sensed it coming, and instead of trying to block something he could not see, he shifted his body just enough to the side with a small and controlled movement.
A thin line cut past the space where he had been standing a moment before, the air behind him splitting faintly as the attack passed through, leaving a shallow tear along the edge of his sleeve.
From the outside, it looked as though nothing had happened, as Jule still stood in the same position with his hand on his sword, while Knox slowly straightened and glanced at the small cut on his sleeve.
A faint smile appeared on his face.
"…Oh."
"Interesting~"
Knox glanced once at the small tear on his sleeve, as if confirming what had just happened rather than being surprised by it.
A second later, the reaction from the audience followed.
"Kyah?!"
"What was that?!"
Some students leaned back, others half-stood from their seats, trying to catch what they had missed. There had been no swing, no visible motion, yet something had clearly cut through the air.
Claudia's gaze stayed fixed on the space between the two of them, her brows slowly drawing together.
Lorain didn't say anything. Her eyes remained on Knox, steady and quiet.
Up above, the professors continued watching without interruption. Jane's expression did not change, while Hong Feng's attention sharpened slightly, clearly more interested now.
Back in the arena, Knox let out a small breath and looked at Jule again.
The faint smile on his face slowly faded. His eyes grew sharper, the easygoing look from before settling into something calmer, colder.
"…Alright."
Near his hand, the air shifted slightly.
A blade formed there, its shape appearing cleanly as a pale blue sheen ran along the metal, the glow staying tight to the edge instead of spreading outward.
Knox caught it in one hand.
The way he held it was unusual. The blade didn't point forward.
Instead, it angled back along his side, the edge trailing behind him as his wrist turned slightly, placing the sword in a position that looked almost reversed compared to a normal stance.
His body remained upright, but his weight shifted just enough to support movement at any moment, one foot set slightly ahead of the other without lowering into a heavy stance.
Then he moved.
He stepped forward in a smooth, quiet motion, closing the distance without rushing.
At the same time, his arm moved.
The blade swept out from behind him in a clean arc, the motion starting from that reversed position and cutting across naturally, a thin line of cold blue trailing behind the edge for a brief moment.
Before the first cut fully ended, his body had already turned.
The second slash followed from a slightly different angle, flowing directly from the first as his footing adjusted, the movement light but precise.
He didn't stop there.
The third came as his momentum carried forward, the blade tracing another quiet arc, each strike linking to the next without hesitation.
Jule responded.
For the first time, his hand moved fully, his sword leaving its sheath in a smooth draw that met Knox's blade head-on as the next strike came in.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
The sound rang out sharp and clear across the arena.
This time, there was no confusion.
No missing motion.
Just two blades colliding in plain sight.
The moment their blades met, Knox didn't stop there.
Instead of pulling back, he let the contact slide, his blade following along Jule' sword for a brief moment before his wrist turned, guiding the pressure away. At the same time, his foot shifted, and his body moved with it.
He stepped in.
The next cut came from behind him, the blade sweeping forward in a clean arc as his body turned, the motion smooth and continuous. The pale blue trace followed the edge for a split second before fading.
Jule blocked it.
Clang!
But Knox was already moving.
He didn't stay in place. His footing slid to the side, his body turning again, and the next strike came from a different angle, lower this time, rising as he stepped forward.
Jule adjusted.
He turned, deflected, stepped back.
Clang! Clang!
The sound of steel echoed as the two moved across the arena, their positions shifting with every exchange. Knox kept advancing, his steps light but constant, his blade never settling in one place long enough to be read.
The line of attack kept changing.
Front.
Side.
Behind.
Each swing flowed into the next, his body turning with the blade, his path curving instead of stopping. The faint blue trails overlapped for a moment before disappearing, replaced by the next arc.
Jule tried to match it.
He blocked one, then another, his sword moving quickly, but the timing kept tightening. Every time he set his footing, Knox was already there again, forcing him to react before he could fully recover.
From the stands, the shift became clear.
"Jule is getting pushed back…?"
They weren't standing still anymore.
With each clash, they drifted across the arena, their blades meeting and separating in quick succession, Knox always the one stepping forward, Jule the one giving ground.
Simon's eyes followed the exchange closely.
He didn't speak.
But the small skull badge attached to his uniform suddenly stirred.
["…What an exquisite sword style."]
Simon blinked slightly.
["Beautiful… yet every movement leads to the next without waste. It's not just technique. It's… flow."]
For a brief moment, Pier went quiet, as if watching even more closely.
["I've never seen anything like this before."]
Back in the arena, Knox stepped in again.
His blade came from behind him once more, cutting forward in a smooth arc, but before it fully completed, his body had already turned, his foot sliding across the ground to carry the motion further.
The next strike came in from the side.
Jule raised his sword—
Clang!
—but the moment they connected, Knox shifted again, letting the contact slide past as he moved around him, his body already repositioning for the next cut.
There was no break in his rhythm. The pressure kept building. Each step brought him closer.
Each swing gave Jule less space.
And the flow—never stopped.
At first, Knox's movements had been smooth and measured, but now the pace began to climb. The space between each strike shrank, and the flow that once felt calm started to press forward with a sharper edge.
He stepped in again, this time faster.
His blade came from behind him in that same curved path, but the follow-up arrived sooner, his body already turning as his foot slid across the ground. The next cut came in from the side without giving Jule time to fully recover, and before that motion even settled, Knox had already shifted again, bringing the blade up from below in a rising arc.
Jule blocked it.
Clang!
The impact pushed his sword slightly off line.
Knox didn't stop.
His wrist turned, redirecting his own blade mid-motion, and the edge came around again from a tighter angle, faster than before. The pale blue traces began to overlap now, no longer fading cleanly before the next appeared.
Each step carried him forward.
Each swing came sooner.
The flow was still there, still clean, still controlled—
but now it was heavier. Sharper. Relentless.
Jule stepped back.
Then again.
His breathing grew uneven as he raised his sword to meet another incoming strike.
Clang!
"Urgh—!"
The sound slipped out as his arm took the impact.
Before he could reset, Knox was already there again, his body turning as the blade came from the side, then from behind, then from a lower angle, each line cutting through the space around Jule and leaving him less room to move.
From the stands, the noise had faded.
No one was shouting now.
No one was even speaking loudly.
"…It's… beautiful."
"…What is that…?"
Some students leaned forward without realizing it, their eyes locked onto Knox as his movements flowed across the arena. The way he moved didn't feel like brute force or speed alone. It felt controlled, almost refined, like each motion had been placed exactly where it needed to be.
The arcs of pale blue light curved and overlapped, forming fleeting patterns that vanished as quickly as they appeared.
Elegant.
Clean.
And yet—
every single movement carried enough precision to cut through anything in its path.
Back in the arena, Jule's footing slipped slightly as he tried to adjust again.
Knox stepped in once more, his blade already moving, the path curving as his body turned with it, closing the distance further.
Jule raised his sword—
Clang!
—but the pressure behind it forced him to shift back again.
"…!"
His eyes narrowed.
"…this sword style…"
Another strike came.
He barely managed to catch it.
"…what kind of sword style is this?"
Knox didn't answer.
His blade was already moving again.