A faint smile appeared on Zephyrion’s face.
Fiona rose to her feet and stepped into the arena. Across from her, Lucien’s chubby figure stared at her with disdain.
"Tch. Another random nobody," he scoffed. "Can we hurry this up already? I still have a Proving to win."
Fiona swallowed. Her arms trembled faintly, but she clenched them tighter as she rembered her promise.
’Do your best.’
She had promised him.
At this mont, that mattered more than any fear a city lord descendant could instill in her.
Fiona exhaled slowly.
A sharp tallic hum echoed out. A silver orb gathered within her palm, morphing into a gleaming sword.
When she raised her gaze toward Lucien once more, her eyes burned with resolve.
Zephyrion gave an inward nod.
’Good.’
Resolve was the core emotion of the tal elent. Fiona’s resolve had always been calm and steady, like the surface of a still lake.
While that wasn’t inherently bad, it also prevented the tal elent from reaching the overwhelming intensity her comprehension should have allowed.
But now, that had changed.
He had given her sothing to cling to. A promise.
At this mont, her determination to keep that promise filled her entirely.
Zephyrion watched closely.
A mont later, a formless wave burst from Fiona. tal aura surged around her like a violent storm. Even at a glance, Zephyrion could tell the intensity had reached a level she had never attained before.
Lucien noticed the shift as well, but rely scoffed.
"At least you’re trying to look threatening."
Silence descended briefly.
Then the overseer’s voice rang out.
"Begin."
Fiona flowed to the left.
Sothing sharp whizzed past her, slamming into the coliseum wall behind. Blood trickled down her cheek from a shallow cut, yet her eyes had never looked fiercer.
Lucien narrowed his eyes.
"You dodged that?"
Shock flickered across his face. Every battle throughout the Proving had ended instantly from that single attack. This was the first ti anyone had avoided it.
"Hm." He tilted his head slightly, dangerous light flickering within his eyes. "Alright then. Let’s see you dodge this too."
Multiple tal orbs materialized behind Lucien before rapidly thinning into razor-sharp blades.
Lucien flicked his arm. The blades vanished.
Fiona instantly flowed to the right as one tore past her. She bent backward as another ripped above her head before spinning and rolling across the arena floor to narrowly evade the final strike.
As she rose back to her feet, thin cuts slowly surfaced across her cheek and nose, blood trailing down her skin.
Fiona tightened her grip on her sword, gaze unwavering.
Lucien’s expression darkened slightly.
"You dodged that too? Hm... impressive."
He gave a slow nod, though the coldness in his eyes remained unchanged.
"It’s ti to stop playing around."
Lucien raised both arms.
Multiple tallic hums rang out simultaneously like the tolling of bells. An entire army of tal orbs ford behind him before rapidly thinning into blades.
Lucien lowered his arms.
The blades vanished.
Fiona narrowed her eyes as tal aura surged around her continuously.
She slipped left. Blades tore past her. Then right. Then left again.
She weaved through the onslaught like flowing water.
Zephyrion gave another inward nod.
An Ascendant with exceptional comprehension and intensified emotions was capable of truly terrifying things. Stronger control. Superior tal. Even sturdier constructs than those ford by higher ranks.
With her emotions heightened, Fiona’s extraordinary comprehension was finally being given the chance to shine.
Unfortunately, stronger tal did not equate to greater physical ability. Ascending ranks remained the only true thod of strengthening the body.
Fiona’s Slip Step was already faster than soone of her rank should have been capable of achieving. Yet it still wasn’t enough to completely keep up with Lucien, a Mark Five.
As she continued evading, more cuts opened across her body. So pierced through her arms and legs, blood splattering across the arena floor.
Yet Fiona never slowed.
Zephyrion could clearly see the determination burning within her eyes.
She refused to stop.
Lucien finally gritted his teeth in frustration.
"You stupid little rat."
He glanced toward the viewing platform above. His mother’s earlier smile had already faded into a faint frown.
A direct descendant struggling against soone who wasn’t even considered a peer.
The longer this battle dragged on, the more damage it brought to the Donvaire na.
’I can’t disappoint mother.’
Lucien’s gaze gradually turned cold.
"Alright then," he said, abruptly stopping his barrage. "You wanted to play stubborn? Fine."
"Splitting Knives."
The skies above the arena were instantly engulfed by countless thin blades.
Millions watching widened their eyes in shock. There was no possible way to evade that many attacks.
Blood spilled continuously from Fiona’s wounds. Agonizing pain coursed through her body, yet even then, she tightened her grip on her sword, expression unwavering.
A faint flicker crossed Lucien’s eyes as he spoke.
"Fall."
His arm dropped.
The blades vanished.
BOOM!
A deafening explosion rocked the arena as an enormous cloud of dust erupted, swallowing everything within a thick haze.
Silence descended.
Within the haze, Lucien shook his head.
"Tch. Finally, it’s over."
He turned... then froze.
A figure burst from the haze.
Lucien’s eyes widened alongside the millions watching.
Blades riddled Fiona’s body. Arms. Legs. Thighs. Back. Shoulders. Only her head and torso had been spared. Blood poured endlessly from the wounds, staining the arena floor crimson.
Yet Fiona’s eyes... remained filled with resolve.
Her sword flashed forward.
Lucien’s pupils constricted.
The wounds... she had intentionally avoided every lethal strike while enduring the rest instead. Agonizing pain should have consud her entirely, yet not a trace of it appeared on her face.
Lucien gritted his teeth.
"Don’t get cocky."
Closing the distance had rendered his ranged attacks ineffective. The Donvaires specialized in long-range combat, but that did not an they were helpless in close quarters.
A thin blade ford within Lucien’s hand.
He tilted his head slightly as Fiona’s sword tore past him before thrusting his own blade toward her chest.
"It’s over."
Fiona shifted slightly. The blade pierced through her shoulder.
Lucien’s eyes widened.
The strike had nearly torn through muscle and bone, coming close to severing her arm entirely... yet she still didn’t stop.
’She’s going to attack.’
Lucien’s focus sharpened on her blade, anticipating every possible strike. A slash toward his neck? A downward cut? He prepared himself for every possibility...
Then a sharp hum rippled outward.
tal aura rapidly converged before Fiona, forming an oval-shaped tallic do.
"Pulse Break."
Lucien’s eyes widened violently as Fiona suddenly stomped forward and slamd directly into him.
"What th—"
His chubby fra lifted completely off the ground. Together, they shot out of the arena before crashing heavily onto the coliseum floor.
Silence descended.
Several seconds passed before the overseer finally stepped forward. Yet even he failed to fully hide the shock within his eyes.
"Fiona Calderalth versus Lucien Donvaire... Draw. Both candidates are disqualified."
The silence shattered instantly. A deafening roar erupted throughout the entire coliseum.
Zephyrion could clearly see the excitent filling countless faces. Lucien Donvaire was a primary descendant of a city lord. One of the favored candidates to win the entire Proving.
Yet he had just drawn against an unknown Calderalth candidate.
Zephyrion glanced toward the city lords’ platform. A dark expression had settled across City Lord Marisse’s face.
Such a developnt had never been anticipated.
Zephyrion turned away before eting Fiona’s gaze.
She was barely standing amidst the roaring crowd, blood pooling beneath her feet. Yet even now, there was still an expectant look lingering within her eyes.
A faint smile appeared on Zephyrion’s face as he slowly mouthed;
"You did well."
Relief instantly spread across Fiona’s expression.
As though those words had been the final thing holding her together, her body finally gave out. She collapsed unconscious onto the arena floor.
Zephyrion exhaled softly, the smile fading from his face.
The battle itself had been interesting... but his attention had been elsewhere entirely.
’I got it.’
The Donvaire rune art. The source runes were now completely engraved within his mind.
With that, two of his objectives had already been fulfilled.
Zephyrion erged from his thoughts as the next match was suddenly announced.
"Zephyrion Calderalth. Kaelith Korrath."
Zephyrion’s eyes glinted faintly. A chance to witness an Heir directly.
This was good.
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