Princess’s Struggle for Survival Chapter 373: "Do you have such confidence in her?”

Hearing Lyra’s words, Iris gave a slight nod, her gaze sweeping over the crowd now focused on them, answering with calm indifference.

"Please enlighten , Lyra Beckett."

"I’ve long awaited the chance to fight you."

Let her personally test just how this young knight, whom the Saintess of Light regarded as "one watched by the God of Light", differed from other contestants. Could the legend of overcoming higher-ranked opponents truly continue with her?

Lifting her sword, Iris’s eyes instantly turned serious and focused. She gave Lyra no chance to strike first, lightly tapping the tile with her azure boot heel before charging forward at trendous speed.

Iris’s fighting style was exactly like this, preferring aggressive offense, overwhelming opponents with continuous attacks rather than passively defending and waiting for openings.

Feeling the wind rushing toward her, specks of light flickered around Lyra. In her vision, Iris’s movents left afterimages, the blade slicing air, currents flowing along the sword’s spine.

Though it seed like a storm unleashed, Iris had not actually applied wind enchantnt, this was rely a strike powered purely by speed and strength.

Wrist twisting, blue eyes caught the instant glint at the sword’s tip. Knowing Iris’s attack trajectory, Lyra slightly bent her knees, lowered her center of gravity, stabilized her stance, and switched to gripping the sword with both hands.

She had a premonition: blocking Iris’s strike with just one hand would surely backfire terribly.

A clear tallic clang rang through the air as the Holy Sword t Iris’s blade, sparks flashing. The trendous force transmitted through the sword widened Lyra’s pupils, her mind instantly focusing power on her wrist while her whole body coordinated to dissipate the impact.

Yet even so, Lyra was forced backward several ters, leaving two distinct scrape marks across the tiles beneath her.

Such incredible speed and explosive power, was this the physical strength of an Early Tier Master Knight?

Previously only observing Iris’s duels against various mages, the combat experience Lyra gained had mostly been details regarding magical counters. Now, clashing head-on with Iris on the arena stage, she finally grasped the terrifying might of her opponent.

It wasn’t just weak mages who struggled against her, Lyra herself, who always prioritized martial training, found it extrely difficult to withstand Iris’s attacks.

Giving Lyra no ti to think, Iris quickly redirected the blade pressed against the Holy Sword, angling it sharply to deflect the weapon, instantly shifting from a slash to a thrust and attacking once more.

A piercing chill stung Lyra’s nerves. Iris’s movents were at maximum speed, leaving no ti to react.

Another tallic clatter, the slender knight’s blade just barely intercepted Iris’s sword tip, shielding Lyra’s chest and collarbone. The next second, the semi-transparent blade erupted with blinding light, forcing Iris to avert her gaze and imdiately retreat.

Ironically, on the final stage of what was supposed to be a Magic Exchange Tournant, the two competitors hadn’t even drawn the staffs symbolizing their mage status, and their initial clash was purely sword against sword, with no magic involved whatsoever.

In an instant, the distance between Iris and Lyra stretched several ters. The searing light not only temporarily impaired Iris’s vision, but the residual warmth from the radiance still lingered on her hand gripping the hilt.

Not choosing to clash head-on was a wise decision. Lyra, in the next second, gathered the light erupting from her blade, intensifying it to temperatures hot enough to ignite paper. Had Iris persisted in her attack, this fla-like light would have instantly adhered to her skin.

Besides Lyra’s on-the-spot reaction to the assault, what surprised Iris was the precise interception of her blade at such close range.

A normal Great Knight wouldn’t have that kind of reaction speed, and even if they did, executing a defensive maneuver would take ti.

Lyra, however, acted almost instinctively, releasing the hilt and repositioning the mont her blade was deflected, then re-gripping it to precisely block the second strike with the flat of her sword.

Thus, it seed Lyra wasn’t entirely inexperienced against similar opponents.

In the audience, seeing Lyra narrowly block the attack, Astrid tapped her thigh, crimson eyes reflecting sunlight streaming down from the ceiling.

The private training sessions the head maid had conducted with Lyra finally showed results. When facing an opponent far stronger than oneself, the weaker party’s reaction speed often lags behind. At such monts, bodily instinct becos crucial.

The speed of wind currents, the sound of blades cutting air, the collision angles of elental particles, every factor transford into bodily instinct, allowing instantaneous awareness of the incoming strike’s impact point.

Then, movents faster than thought itself, neutralizing the attack.

In the arena, Lyra, who had temporarily driven Iris back, took shallow breaths, raising her sword without hesitation and driving its tip into the ground before her.

Surging light-elental particles spread outward like a tide, instantly covering the silver-white knight’s boots beneath her feet. Thin strands of light wrapped around the girl, scattered specks resembling stars orbiting a sun.

Lightfall, within the Holy Light Territory, Lyra’s body received massive reinforcent and could release light-elent magic more easily.

In her match against Sentos, Lyra had only activated the barrier midway through the fight. But against Iris, the opponent’s abilities revealed in just one exchange made Lyra realize: if she didn’t imdiately activate Lightfall, she might be taken down in the next instant.

She absolutely needed to boost her speed and strength just to remain standing on the stage.

Seeing Lyra’s serious, battle-ready state, Iris showed not the slightest sign of contempt. She slowly raised her right arm, leveling her sword with her shoulder. Transparent wind, as if summoned, continuously coiled around the blade.

Among the various elental particles, light wind, turbulent lightning, and scorching fire were the three most suitable elents for weapon enchantnt. Of these, Iris particularly favored the first two.

Wind gathered, forming a wind-pressure field clinging to the blade’s surface. Air compressed and collided, emitting a continuous, deafening roar, while faint lightning silently spread.

Iris raised her sword, choosing not to engage in close combat with Lyra, rely drawing a light arc through the air.

Invisible, intangible ntal energy materialized into a sharp blade of force, accompanied by a slicing wind blade and destructive lightning, hurtling toward Lyra.

At the Master Knight level, knights could transform ntal energy from ethereal to tangible, not only generating wings behind their backs that flapped air to enable flight, but also projecting it outward as cutting edges to directly attack targets.

Within Lyra’s elental vision, all other elental particles yielded before this blade of force, aside from wind and lightning. Even the fully expanded Lightfall couldn’t block the sharp montum contained within this strike.

Like slicing cake, the edge of the blade-force tore open a gap in the circular light field. Tiles shattered, light receded, all light elents could only montarily retreat.

No, absolutely couldn’t block head-on.

Realizing the attack’s destructive power, Lyra instantly abandoned her initial plan to raise the Holy Sword in defense, instead relying on the explosive speed granted by Lightfall to dodge toward the open space on the arena’s opposite side.

The blade-force split dust and earth, leaving a finger-deep crack at the spot where Lyra had just stood. The ground was torn by wind blades and scorched by lightning, turning sowhat blackened.

But this was rely the beginning.

Just as Lyra thought Iris wouldn’t quickly launch another attack of similar intensity, elental particles in the air stirred once more.

Iris gazed as dust settled, seeing Lyra standing beside the crack, softly chanting a magic incantation in her mind. Lightning surged, and a crescent-shaped blade of light targeted the pink-haired girl nearby once again.

This wasn’t any ultimate technique, nor did it require prolonged preparation, rely a casual strike released by Iris as she chanted magic.

Lightning and wind entangled once more, using materialized ntal energy as a dium to slam toward Lyra.

Not even having ti to steady her footing, the mont she heard the crackling of lightning, Lyra imdiately dodged further away, using the enhanced speed from the light field to narrowly evade the attack.

To the audience, compared to Iris, who stood calmly, needing only to raise her arm and swing her sword, Lyra’s movents appeared visibly disheveled. Her usually soft, silky pink hair now hung ssily at her waist, and the white stockings at her knees had beco gray and wrinkled from rolling across the dusty ground.

Lyra wasn’t sure whether the Holy Light Armor could withstand Iris’s seemingly casual strike. Even if it could perfectly block it, her current ntal reserves wouldn’t allow prolonged maintenance of the armor. Summoning it would an she had to end the battle quickly.

It wasn’t ti for a decisive blow yet. She needed to conserve ntal energy and fight gradually.

Lyra’s strategy was sound, but she faced a harsh reality, she had to fully concentrate on Iris’s attacks and dodge every blade-force at maximum speed.

In other words, her opponent could afford countless mistakes, while she could afford only one. And if struck by a blade-force, Lyra would undoubtedly lose combat capability instantly.

Even if she narrowly avoided every attack, she was rely trading stamina for Iris’s ntal energy.

In the audience, Monica, the Saintess of Light, noticed this as well. Unlike others, her gaze remained fixed on the light sword in Lyra’s hand, attempting to discern sothing hidden within the flickering light that others couldn’t see.

anwhile, Hibbort also closely observed the battle on stage, his blue eyes completely unflinching, sitting calmly like an unmoving ancient tree.

"Astrid..."

Watching Lyra dodge yet another attack, the petite, refined nose exhaled gently, her breathing seemingly affected by movent, no longer as steady as before. Hibbort spoke slowly.

"Based on your understanding of Lyra, what do you think her chances of victory are?"

Even with an emperor’s dense intelligence network and vast information access, it couldn’t possibly surpass Astrid’s insight, having spent every day with Lyra, even training together at the tower.

Facing Hibbort’s seemingly casual question, Astrid pondered briefly before softly replying.

"Your Majesty, if I may say...I believe she will definitely win this match."

Hearing Astrid’s words, Hibbort continued watching the arena. Lyra was still desperately avoiding Iris’s blade, each dodge and weave resembling a dance on the edge of a knife.

After a while, Hibbort asked quietly.

"Do you have such confidence in her?"

Even at his level as a Crusader , he couldn’t currently see any path to victory for Lyra.

Against the formidable Iris, Lyra resembled a fragile butterfly fluttering its wings in a violent storm, struggling, yet seemingly unable to survive the long night.

Astrid didn’t imdiately respond upon hearing this. Instead, she gently stroked Amalia’s knee, symbolically comforting the dark-haired little girl who appeared timid and shrinking in others’ eyes.

"It’s not exactly extre confidence...At least for now, Iris hasn’t forced Lyra to reveal any trump cards."

The pink-haired knight currently displayed only abilities Sentos had previously tested. The true secret weapons prepared for Iris remained hidden beneath the curtain.

After hearing this, Hibbort nodded thoughtfully, then turned his gaze back to Astrid.

Feeling the emperor’s suddenly focused gaze, Astrid’s body stiffened slightly. The legs wrapped in sheer black stockings trembled lightly before she maintained her crossed posture, suppressing any change in expression. Her cool crimson eyes calmly stared at the arena.

The man’s gaze seed to carry an investigative quality, even making Astrid feel as if he were looking past her at soone else in the audience.

Was it Lucas? Or Alistair?

Or perhaps... Livia Calliste...

Only after Hibbort withdrew his gaze and refocused entirely on the arena did Astrid quietly release a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

Glancing sideways at Amalia, the white-stockinged girl had curled herself into the seat, pure-white princess shoes nervously pressed together, still the sa timid, fearful appearance.

As for the two other princes, aside from briefly glancing her way when she first arrived, they’d spent the rest of their ti focused on the match.

These two heirs’ attention likely remained fixed on each other. After all, Amalia had been locked in the old castle for years. To avoid suspicion and curry favor with Hibbort, they’d never had the chance to contact this illegitimate daughter, let alone directly recognize her.

Unless Amalia removed her red eye mbranes right now, washed away the plant-based dye in her hair, and revealed her original golden hair and blue eyes, the true marks of royal blood.

But the real issue wasn’t them, it was Hibbort.

As long as the emperor lived, he remained the empire’s supre ruler, capable of easily deciding Astrid’s and Amalia’s fates.

"..."

At least outwardly, Amalia’s performance was flawless.

Thinking this, Astrid settled her mind and continued watching this critically important match for Lyra.