[Last Chapter I made a small mistake saying only Sorcerer level mage can participate so here is correction "Highest level of participants can be Magnus level"]
The registration process for the Magic Exchange Competition lasted three days in total. On the afternoon of the fourth day, Charlotte, received from the administration office a list of participants. Alongside it ca another list, exchange students from the Kingdom of Velvys and their attendants who had been invited into the Valeria Empire.
"Sixty-four students from the academy have registered for the competition. Among them, three have reached the rank of early Magnus level, eight are peak-tier Sorcerers, and twenty-two are Mid-tier Sorcerers..."
Seated at her desk, Charlotte elegantly crossed her legs. Her chestnut-brown eyes lowered as she carefully flipped through the participant list in her hands.
Na: Lyra Beckett, peak-tier Sorcerer (peak-tier Grand Knight).
She really did participate.
Charlotte wasn’t surprised to see Lyra’s na on the list. In her eyes, soone who stood out among a crowd of geniuses naturally possessed a desire to prove themselves.
Not to ntion, she was Astrid’s officially acknowledged best friend. Winning a resounding victory during this competition would undoubtedly bring honor to the Imperial Princess.
After thoroughly reading through the student list, Charlotte took a sip of tea. Her long, fair legs gently rubbed together beneath the desk, producing the soft, distinctive rustle of silk.
On paper, Lyra wasn’t outstanding. The competition restricted participants by grade level, and Lyra, with less than two years of academic training, would face third-year seniors. Both in magical theory and ntal power refinent level, she was significantly behind.
Even with that Sword of Light Astrid held in such high regard, Charlotte still didn’t believe Lyra could stand out among several Magnus.
An early apprentice might use experience and equipnt to overco a gap in raw power and defeat a mid-tier apprentice. A mid-tier apprentice could do the sa to defeat soone one level higher. But such tricks had their limits. As magical ranks increased, direct confrontations and attempts to overco higher-ranked opponents beca increasingly impossible.
The reserve and strength of an early tier Magnus’s ntal energy were several tis greater than that of a peak-tier Sorcerer. If the difference between each minor rank among apprentices could be compared to a bottle versus a wooden basin, then later on, the gap beca that of a stream versus a lake. Every rank leap at the Arcanist Mage level might as well be compared to filling an entire sea.
Her high heels softly tapped against the floor tiles. The silver-white shoes reflected scattered glimrs of light. Charlotte picked up another docunt, her beautiful eyes narrowing slightly.
In the personnel movent report provided by the Kingdom of Velvys, Charlotte obtained this intelligence not through her position as an academy professor, but through her political status as an Imperial Count, pioneer in magi-chanical research, and leader of the reformist faction.
Monica Angelis.
Seeing this na, Charlotte fluttered her eyelashes, slightly surprised by Hibbort’s decision. She carefully read through the woman’s recent circumstances and background, but found no further useful information.
Charlotte couldn’t recall the last ti a Saintess of Light had visited the Valeria Empire. At least, there were no records of such a visit in the fifty years before her birth.
What exactly had Monica said to Hibbort to be allowed onto Imperial soil?
After pondering for a mont without finding an answer, Charlotte continued reading. Among the previously known candidates, another unfamiliar na appeared.
Iris Kroyd.
If it were just the na Iris, Charlotte wouldn’t have reacted strongly. But the surna "Kroyd" was key.
That was the royal family na of the Kingdom of Velvys, representing the monarchy. Her official appearance on the list confird beyond doubt her status as a royal.
One Saintess was already unexpected, what was this princess coming here for?
Rubbing her temples to ease the fatigue from a long day of teaching, Charlotte cast a Refreshing Spell on herself. After a mont, she stood and left her office.
She’d best send soone to investigate this person’s background first.
..............
Three days later, at the sparring platform of Elizabeth Academy of Magic. For the competition, the platform normally used by students for practice duels had been reclaid by the academy.
Astrid sat in the audience, watching the elental fluctuations stirred up by the two mages fighting in the arena. Her bright red eyes remained as calm as still water.
On her left and right sat Lyra, who would soon be fighting, and Amalia, who had co specifically to accompany her older sister.
Since it was inconvenient to reveal that the Sword of Light possessed special spatial abilities, Lyra didn’t choose to conceal the blade within her body and summon it later. Instead, she held the sword between her soft, white-stockinged thighs, her fingers lightly gripping the hilt, maximizing space efficiency without risking injury.
After defeating two peak-tier Sorcerers, Lyra’s next opponent was scheduled to be Nosse Jostlin, a third-year senior known as the "Fla Dancer," who had reached the rank of Early Magnus.
The deeper one studied magic, the clearer it beca just how difficult it was to overco an opponent an entire major rank higher. Lyra estimated her chances of winning today at only one or two out of ten, and even that required her to exhaust every trump card and give it her all.
Noticing the pink-haired girl beside her seed uneasy, continuously scraping the dust on the ground with her white heels since sitting down, Astrid turned her head and saw Lyra intently watching the battle in the arena, her long eyelashes trembling faintly in the sunlight.
"It’s just an ordinary points match. Winning or losing won’t affect the overall outco," Astrid whispered gently, comforting Lyra with a soft voice.
"Don’t be too tense. Relax a little."
For this competition, Elizabeth Academy of Magic would send twelve top-ranking freshn as representatives. Given Lyra’s strength as a peak-tier Sorcerer and peak-tier Grand Knight, qualifying wasn’t difficult.
Hearing Astrid’s words, Lyra nodded. Her sky-blue eyes shifted from the arena to the delicate, beautiful face beside her.
Those clear, crystal-like crimson eyes gazed quietly at her, blinking as if carrying a magic that could soothe the soul.
"I understand... Astrid..."
Reassured by Astrid’s words and encouraging gaze, Lyra relaxed slightly. Her fingers, previously clenched white, loosened a little.
Astrid was right. The outco of one match wasn’t important.
The points-based system ant that as long as she had enough strength, steady progress would secure her advancent.
"Enjoy the match. Absorb techniques and knowledge from combat and apply them flexibly in future battles, that’s what Lyra should do."
Guessing that Lyra’s nervousness might also stem from her presence as an observer, Astrid continued guiding her, her voice low enough that only the two of them, and barely, Amalia beside them, could hear.
"Also, rember what I told you before. The competition format is long. Don’t expose your trump cards too early."
"There are many future matches ahead. Reserving so ergency asures can help you win more victories."
Seeing Lyra nod seriously and respond with a soft "I will," Astrid curved her lips into a smile and leaned back comfortably against her chair.
Compared to the original tiline, with her intervention, the fated heroine not only improved in strength faster, but her mindset was also beginning to mature beyond its forr childishness.
In the novel, Lyra never considered holding back. Though her ultimate goal was to win the prize and sell it to support her family, logically aiming for final victory, she pushed herself to the limit in every match. In inconsequential fights, she even revealed her ultimate techniques, which triggered the original villainess Astrid’s greed for the Sword of Light and her determination to crush this promising young knight before she could rise.
As she pondered, the magical duel in the arena reached its conclusion. One of the mages had exhausted their ntal energy and, with regret on his face, raised his hand to request termination of the match.
Not every duel was as intense and bloody as Lyra’s previous battle against Rots. When fighters reached exhaustion, a sensible and tily surrender was the choice of most rational mages.
It was just one match. Why risk your life?
Noticing staff mbers beginning to clear the arena, with less than a quarter hour remaining until the next match, Lyra picked up the knight’s sword nestled between her knees and slowly straightened her legs.
"Astrid, and Livia, I’ll go prepare now."
Glancing back at the two seated in the audience, Amalia gave her usual blank nod. Astrid, in contrast, offered an encouraging look.
"Don’t hurt yourself. Just do your best."
Hearing these words filled with care and encouragent from the one she loved, warmth welled up in Lyra’s heart, and an indescribable strength surged through her body.
"I will."
With that, Lyra picked up her sword, cast one final glance at Astrid, and followed the staff onto the sparring platform.
.............
An hour later, on the sparring platform, Lyra, cornered by the Fla Dancer Nosse, realized that the power of love was not omnipotent.
As a senior an entire rank above her, Nosse’s strength against Lyra could only be described as overwhelming. The pressure this low-tier Magnus exerted was absolutely greater than that of five or more peak-tier Sorcerers combined.
Relentless spellcasting. Elental bursts that required her full effort to block. Ambush-style dual-elent combination spells.
A mage at the Magnus level already possessed the ability to stand alone. Suppressing a lower-ranked knight was effortless.
Her lips parted, gasping for fresh air, Lyra tightened her grip on her sword, her legs faintly trembling.
The stamina of a peak-tier Grand Knight was insignificant compared to the ntal reserves of a Magnus. Each casual spell forced her to dodge at explosive speed. In just thirty minutes, half her physical strength had been worn down, while Nosse showed no signs of running low on ntal energy.
Of course, this didn’t an Lyra’s approach was wrong. If she had stayed in place and tried to counter through spellcasting alone, whether in ntal intensity or spell quantity, she couldn’t match Nosse and would have fallen even faster.
"O eternal sun burning high above the sky, I beseech you to send down flas that incinerate all..."
As Nosse’s words ended, ripples of fla rapidly spread outward. Lyra watched the surging mass of fire elent particles approaching, twisted her wrist, and transford the translucent Sword of Light from a sharp edge into a slender blade surface. Blinding light burst forth, shooting straight into Nosse’s eyes.
The sudden burst of light elents left the woman dazed, its powerful blinding effect robbing her of vision for a brief mont.
However, a mage didn’t rely solely on the eyes on their face. Her elental vision, constructed from ntal energy, remained unaffected by the light-based blindness. Nosse could still endure the discomfort and continue pushing the wave of flas toward Lyra.
Orange-red flas surged forward. The scorching heat even drove away excess wind elent particles in the air. The rising temperature attempted to turn this place entirely into a territory of fire.
Lyra had excellent fire elent affinity, on par with Nosse. But the other’s raw strength was simply too far above hers. Lyra couldn’t possibly counter by chanting a sa-elent spell to drain elental particles.
Her skirt swayed constantly. The wind roaring in her ears felt heated. Lyra could feel the air she breathed growing hotter.
The fla wave was less than half a ter away. The pre-chanted defensive barrier made of light elents beca Lyra’s final line of protection.
Two elents deeply compatible in mysticism violently collided at close range, accompanied by a thunderous boom like an explosion.
Seizing this chance, Nosse once again channeled her ntal energy, silently reciting the incantation for the fire-consuming spell. As the shockwaves faded, the decisive ultimate spell shot straight toward Lyra at the center of the arena.
Blazing fire ignited around her, drawing closer to her body. Lyra, her stamina nearing its limit, had no possibility of escape. Most of her ntal energy had already been depleted in prior defense.
A mage without ntal energy was no different from an ordinary person. There was no chance of counterattack.
Defeat was certain.
Feeling her strength steadily draining, flas nearby about to ignite her hair, Lyra leaned on her sword with one hand and slowly raised the other.
Seeing this, the referee activated the arena’s magic, blocking all elental activity. The gathering flas instantly dissipated, leaving only a wisp of white mist drifting in the air.
Lyra Beckett, the prodigy unrivaled among her peers, ultimately failed to achieve the underdog victory typical of a protagonist in a conventional story.
"Miss Nosse... is very strong..."
Leaning on her sword to stand straight, Lyra spoke softly.
"It was an honor to spar with you."
Hearing such sincere words from a junior known for her brilliance at the academy, and recalling the Imperial Princess standing behind her, Nosse was montarily taken aback by the girl’s attitude. After a few seconds, she replied.
"Just a lucky win."
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