The Imperial Academy.The Grand Coliseum - Subterranean Staging Pits.Private Waiting Room.01:01 PM.
The absolute, heavy silence of the private waiting room was finally broken by a long, deep, and incredibly satisfying groan.
"Auuugggghhh...."
Rudeus stretched his arms high above his head, his broad shoulders popping loudly in the quiet, enclosed space. He slowly blinked his crimson eyes open, the heavy fog of a profound, adrenaline-crashing sleep gradually lifting from his mind. He was still sitting upright on the hard wooden bench, his back resting against the cold, rough-hewn stone wall.
He groggily turned his head, his eyes focusing on the enchanted, glowing arcane clock mounted above the heavy oak door.
The glowing blue numerals read exactly 1:01 PM.
"Wow. I was completely out cold," Rudeus muttered to himself, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with the back of his calloused hand. His stomach suddenly gave a loud, hollow rumble, protesting its total lack of sustenance.
"I really slept right through the entire lunch period, huh?" Rudeus sighed, resting a hand against his abdomen. He hadn't eaten anything since the cold roast beef sandwich at six in the morning, and he had burned an astronomical amount of calories completely pulverizing his half-brother.
He slowly lowered his arms, preparing to push himself up off the bench and find the nearest cafeteria, when a glint of polished metal caught his eye.
Resting perfectly on the wooden bench, exactly right beside where his left hand had been resting during his nap, was a small, beautifully crafted object.
Rudeus frowned, leaning closer. He reached out and picked it up.
It was a solid silver medallion, roughly the size of his palm, intricately engraved with the crest of the Imperial Academy—a crossed sword and wand beneath a rising sun. Attached to the top of the heavy silver coin was a thick, royal blue ribbon.
It was the official, prestigious token awarded exclusively to the undisputed victor of a preliminary combat round.
"Did she actually leave this for me?" Rudeus whispered to the empty room, turning the heavy silver medallion over in his fingers.
He remembered the blurry, half-conscious moments before he had completely passed out. He remembered Princess Veronica sitting beside him. He remembered her surprisingly genuine defense of his brutal actions, and her confession of her own dark desires regarding the Crown Prince. He hadn't seen her place the medal there, but she was the only one in the room, and she had clearly won her own preliminary bracket to possess one of these.
A slow, genuine smile spread across Rudeus's face as he stared at the silver award.
"For a notoriously prickly, arrogant, man-hating woman..." Rudeus murmured, the heavy cynicism of his past life temporarily receding.
He lightly tossed the medallion into the air, catching it with a soft clink.
"She's really quite a kind person beneath all those terrifying royal thorns, huh?"
Rudeus threw his head back and let out a quiet, highly amused laugh that echoed gently off the stone walls.
"Haha. Honestly, I still fundamentally hate her due to her past actions and her insufferable canonical personality," Rudeus admitted to himself, shaking his head. "But... it seems I am actually starting to tolerate, and perhaps even genuinely like, the person she is slowly becoming right now."
He slipped the silver medallion securely into the inner pocket of his dark-grey combat tunic. He didn't want to wear it like a boastful peacock, but he had no intention of throwing it away. It was a tangible symbol of a shifting alliance.
He stood up, his muscles aching with a dull, familiar soreness. He grabbed his satchel, picked up his heavy, blood-stained Six-Flanged War Mace from the floor, and strapped it back onto his waist.
He walked over to the heavy oak door and unlocked it.
-CLICK!
As Rudeus pulled the heavy door open and stepped out into the dimly lit subterranean corridor, he immediately stopped dead in his tracks.
Leaning casually against the stone wall directly opposite his door, with his massive arms crossed tightly over his broad chest, was Professor Avalon Pendletree.
Rudeus's crimson eyes widened in genuine shock.
"Wha-why are you down here, Professor?" Rudeus questioned him, his tactical mind instantly racing.
Usually, the instructors were heavily occupied in the VIP boxes or managing the logistics of the ongoing tournament brackets. For the Head Combat Instructor to be personally waiting outside a student's private recovery room meant that something highly significant—and likely highly bureaucratic—had occurred while he was sleeping.
Avalon looked at him for a long, heavy second. The boisterous, carefree smile that usually adorned the swordsman's face was completely gone. He didn't reply to the question immediately. He simply pushed himself off the wall, letting out a long, incredibly tired sigh that seemed to carry the weight of the entire world.
"I have some bad news for you, Rudeus..." Avalon said, his voice unusually somber and quiet.
Rudeus felt his stomach drop, but his face remained a completely impenetrable mask of stoic indifference. He let out a slow, controlled sigh.
He already knew exactly what that bad news was going to be. He was a veteran of military tribunals. He knew that actions, especially highly public, brutally violent actions, always demanded a corresponding consequence. He had completely lost control in the arena. He had gone entirely too far in his systematic dismantling of Aemond Blackfyre.
"The Disciplinary Faculty, the Headmaster of the Academy, and even the observing members of the Royal Family convened an emergency session while you were resting," Avalon explained, his brown eyes filled with a mixture of professional duty and personal regret. "They have officially, unanimously decided to disqualify you from the remainder of this practical tournament."
Avalon ran a heavy hand through his unkempt black hair, looking down at the stone floor.
"I argued on your behalf, kiddo. I told them it was a sanctioned duel and adrenaline runs high. But... the sheer, excessive brutality of the beating, and the terrifying intent you displayed at the end... it was too much for the civilian nobles to stomach. I'm incredibly sorry, kiddo..." Avalon said, his voice thick with a genuine, heartfelt sadness at having failed to protect a student he had grown to respect.
Rudeus didn't argue. He didn't scream about unfairness or noble bias. He simply looked at the professor and let out another, softer sigh.
"It's perfectly alright, Professor," Rudeus replied, his voice completely calm and devoid of anger. "Please don't apologize. I already fully expected it."
He casually adjusted the strap of his satchel on his shoulder.
"There is absolutely no way I could have walked out of that arena after what I did and not face any administrative consequences. I crossed the line from combat into outright torture. I accept the disqualification."
Avalon looked up, his eyes widening slightly at the sheer, terrifying maturity and emotional regulation the fifteen-year-old boy was displaying. Most noble students would be throwing a screaming, destructive tantrum at being disqualified from the year's biggest event. Rudeus was accepting it with the cold pragmatism of a seasoned war criminal.
A slow, highly relieved smile began to break through Avalon's grim expression.
"Well, I'm glad you're taking it like a man," Avalon chuckled softly. "Though... I also have some incredibly good news for you, too!"
Rudeus raised a skeptical eyebrow. "What could possibly be good news in this situation? I honestly thought I would get formally suspended from the Academy grounds for a few weeks after the simulation exams concluded."
"Nah, you are actually completely good on the academic front," Avalon grinned, crossing his arms again, looking highly satisfied. "Because during the emergency tribunal, a highly classified intelligence report was suddenly, miraculously submitted to the Headmaster's desk. It was definitively, undeniably revealed that Aemond Blackfyre actively attempted to cheat prior to your match."
Rudeus's eyes narrowed.
"The report proved, with irrefutable financial ledgers, that Aemond was attempting to illegally purchase a Class-A Abyssal Neural-Paralysis artifact from the Capital's black market to use against you in the arena," Avalon explained, his voice ringing with righteous vindication. "Which means, by the absolute laws of the Academy, he is also formally, retroactively disqualified from the tournament for attempted cheating and possession of contraband."
Avalon stepped forward, clapping a heavy hand onto Rudeus's shoulder.
"And because your opponent was officially disqualified for severe infractions prior to the match's conclusion, your own disqualification for 'excessive force' is legally commuted to a 'nullified bout'. You are saved, kiddo. Your overall practical grades won't be negatively affected by this exam at all. You pass by default."
Rudeus was not shocked. He didn't gasp or express profound disbelief. He simply let out a small, highly amused huff of air through his nose. He wasn't even remotely surprised.
'I bet my entire life that this was Amanda's doing,' Rudeus said inwardly, a cold, calculating smile playing on his lips.
He knew the Deathstalker possessed an unparalleled intelligence network. She must have intercepted Aemond's black market couriers, confiscated the artifact, and held onto the financial ledgers specifically to use as political leverage. When Rudeus got disqualified, she smoothly deployed the evidence to save her new, highly valuable intelligence asset from academic suspension.
'I really gotta make sure to thank her later for that flawless bureaucratic save,' Rudeus thought.
Then, remembering the feeling of her poisoned blade pressing against his carotid artery just three months ago, he immediately shook his head.
'Nah, on second thought. She definitely doesn't deserve a thank you. We are even for the neck wound.'
"You're not surprised by this revelation at all, it seems?" Avalon asked, noticing the boy's complete lack of shock regarding his brother's treachery.
"Ehh," Rudeus shrugged lazily, rolling his neck. "There is absolutely no way a coward like him wouldn't attempt to cheat. After all, he already caught a glimpse of exactly how dangerous I had become during a confrontation in the classroom months ago. He knew he couldn't beat me fairly, Professor. Cheating was his only logical recourse."
"I see. I see," Avalon nodded slowly, rubbing his bearded chin, his respect for the boy's analytical mind growing exponentially. He had vastly underestimated the intelligence hidden beneath the 'Defect's' green hair.
"Then, I will see you in class next week, Rudeus. Go get some food, and enjoy the rest of the matches from the stands," Avalon said, turning to walk away down the corridor. He offered a casual wave of his hand over his shoulder.
But after taking three steps, Avalon suddenly stopped. He stood perfectly still in the dim corridor for a moment.
He slowly looked back over his shoulder. His vibrant brown eyes were entirely devoid of mirth. They were deadly serious, piercing straight through Rudeus's soul.
"Oh, and also—" Avalon said, his voice dropping to a low, incredibly intense whisper that carried the weight of a hardened battlefield commander giving a final order.
"Do not ever try to actually, intentionally kill someone with that brutal weapon of yours within these walls again, alright, kiddo?" Avalon warned, his gaze flickering down to the blood-stained iron mace resting on Rudeus's hip. "If Ryekard hadn't stepped in... you would be in chains right now. Don't lose yourself to the bloodlust."
Rudeus stared at the man he deeply admired. He didn't offer a polite lie. He didn't offer a fake promise to appease his instructor.
Rudeus let out a short, dark, entirely humorless laugh.
"That..." Rudeus replied, his voice cold, steady, and terrifyingly honest. "I absolutely cannot promise you, Professor."
Avalon stared at the fifteen-year-old boy. He saw the ancient, unyielding darkness behind those crimson eyes. He realized he wasn't talking to a student who needed guidance; he was talking to a soldier who had already made his peace with murder.
"I see," Avalon murmured quietly. He didn't press the issue. He simply nodded his head in grim acceptance. "Then... see ya around, kiddo. Watch your back."
Avalon turned completely and walked away, disappearing around the corner, leaving Rudeus alone in the shadows.
Rudeus sighed, leaning against the doorframe of the waiting room. He let out another, slightly more cynical laugh.
"There is absolutely no way I could ever make a naive, pacifistic promise like that to you, Professor..." Rudeus whispered into the empty hallway, his hand resting comfortably on the cold iron of his mace.
"After all... I know for an absolute, canonical fact that I will face impossibly powerful, demonic foes in the very near future. And when they come... I am going to need to kill every single one of them."
***
The Grand Coliseum - General Spectator Stands.03:00 PM.
After thoroughly scrubbing the dried blood from his face and armor in the subterranean washrooms, and hastily devouring three massive meat skewers from a vendor stall to replenish his depleted stamina, Rudeus made his way back up to the surface.
He didn't return to the staging pits. Since he was officially notified of his disqualification—alongside Aemond, who was currently languishing in the high-security medical ward under suspicion of contraband smuggling, courtesy of Amanda's Night Ravens—Rudeus had absolutely no reason to remain in the competitor's area.
He navigated the crowded, stone steps of the general spectator stands, searching for an empty seat.
It was an incredibly surreal experience.
As he walked through the aisles, the dense crowds of noble students, wealthy merchants, and commoners seemed to literally, physically part like the Red Sea before him.
The people who had booed him this morning were now completely, fundamentally terrified of him. Whenever he glanced in a particular direction, the spectators would immediately, frantically shift their heads, desperately trying to avoid making eye contact with the 'Monster of the Blackfyre Duchy'. Whispers followed him like a trailing shadow, filled with awe, disgust, and profound fear.
Rudeus simply shrugged his broad shoulders, entirely indifferent to their terror. In his past life, he was used to people fearing the Vanguard. Fear meant they wouldn't bother him.
He finally found an empty stone bench near the middle tier, offering a perfect, unobstructed view of the entire arena.
He sat down heavily, resting his elbows on his knees, and leaned his chin onto his right fist, adopting a posture of absolute, unadulterated boredom.
He spent the next two hours watching the subsequent brackets play out. To the average spectator, the matches were thrilling displays of magical prowess and swordsmanship.
To Rudeus, a man who had fought a Demon God in the abyss, the fights were painfully, agonizingly slow and predictable.
Most of the fights were incredibly boring. They consisted of pompous nobles standing thirty feet apart, dramatically shouting the names of their spells, and exchanging flashy, inefficient magical blasts until one of their barriers shattered. There was no real tactical maneuvering. There was no brutal close-quarters desperation. It was just a glorified, highly explosive light show.
Rudeus found himself yawning repeatedly. The crowds around him were also slowly losing their initial, frantic energy. The sheer adrenaline of the morning's brutal bloodbath had desensitized them to standard fencing.
However, the lethargic atmosphere in the Coliseum vanished instantly when the massive arcane clock above the Royal Box struck 5:00 PM.
With a blinding flash of violet light, the Chief Arbiter teleported back into the center of the scorched, spell-blasted arena sand.
The crowds immediately roared back to life. The energy in the stadium spiked to a fever pitch.
It was finally time for the Final Round of the First-Year Tournament.
And the primary reason the crowd was so incredibly, rabidly excited was due to the identity of one of the finalists.
Princess Veronica had fought her way through Bracket Five, completely obliterating her opponents in the quarter-finals, decisively crushing a highly favored second-year student in the semi-finals, and had majestically secured her place in the grand finale.
She had been the absolute highlight of the afternoon, continually providing the spectators with immense excitement and flawless, devastating displays of high-tier royal light magic.
"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! WE HAVE FINALLY ARRIVED!" The Chief Arbiter bellowed into his horn, his voice echoing over the deafening cheers.
"WE ARE NOW IN THE GRAND FINAL ROUND! BUT BEFORE WE OFFICIALLY COMMENCE THE BOUT..."
The Arbiter turned toward the eastern gate, where Princess Veronica was standing just inside the tunnel, awaiting her introduction.
"WHAT IS YOUR EXPECTED, DESIRED REWARD FOR ACHIEVING VICTORY IN THIS PRESTIGIOUS TOURNAMENT, YOUR HIGHNESS?!" The Arbiter asked loudly, projecting the traditional question across the stadium.
Veronica stepped out of the shadows and into the sunlight. Her silver-blue uniform was slightly singed at the edges from her previous magical duels, and she was breathing a little heavily, but her posture remained impeccably, flawlessly regal.
She looked at the Arbiter, her expression completely calm and devoid of the usual aristocratic greed. She raised her own magical amplification crystal to her lips.
"I do not expect, nor do I desire, to receive any special rewards or boons from the Academy for my performance today," Veronica replied, her melodic voice echoing clearly across the hushed stadium.
"After all... I am merely participating in this tournament for my mandatory compliance regarding my practical combat subject requirements. I fight to pass my exams, not for glory."
The crowd erupted. They absolutely loved the display of humble, pragmatic dedication from the supposedly spoiled Princess. Even the high nobles nodded in deep approval at her mature, dignified response.
"I SEE! I SEE! A TRULY NOBLE SENTIMENT!" The Chief Arbiter shouted, nodding his head enthusiastically.
"THEN... WE SHALL PROCEED WITH THE FINAL ROUND!!"
He gestured grandly toward Veronica.
"STANDING IN THE RIGHT CORNER! SHE IS WIDELY KNOWN AS THE ABSOLUTE, UNDISPUTED FAVORED PRINCESS OF THE EMPEROR HIMSELF... AND SHE HAS PROVEN HER MAGICAL SUPREMACY TODAY!"
"I INTRODUCE TO YOUUUUU....."
"PRINCESS VERONICA ADNELIA VAN ROSANIA!!!!!"
The entire Coliseum cheered wildly. Up in the Royal Box, even the perpetually exhausted Emperor Gherman stood up and clapped proudly for his daughter. He was genuinely, deeply proud of her for reaching the final round of this grueling exam, especially since her most impressive feat of the day had been effortlessly defeating several powerful, heavily favored second and third-year opponents who had attempted to challenge her bracket.
The Chief Arbiter then spun around, pointing his horn toward the dark tunnel of the western gates.
"AND THEN, STANDING IN THE LEFT CORNER!"
The atmosphere in the stadium shifted. The cheers of the high nobility died down, replaced by the frantic, roaring enthusiasm of the commoner students and the lower-tier martial initiates.
"SHE IS ALREADY WIDELY KNOWN THROUGHOUT THE CAMPUS AS THE ABSOLUTE STRONGEST, MOST NATURALLY GIFTED SWORD USER FROM THE ENTIRE FIRST-YEAR CLASS!"
"SHE IS ALSO THE PROUD YOUNGER SISTER OF OUR ESTEEMED COMBAT INSTRUCTOR, PROFESSOR AVALON PENDLETREE! AND SHE HAS BEEN PROPHESIED BY THE HIGH PRIESTS TO BE THE NEXT INCARNATION OF THE SWORD SAINT, BEARING THE DIVINE BLESSING OF OUR GODDESS ZEONHONIAH...."
"I INTRODUCE TO YOUUUUUU..."
"ADELINA VAN HESTIANNA!!!!"
The western gates opened.
Adelina stepped out onto the sand. She was breathtaking. Her long, midnight-black hair flowed freely down her back, and her brilliant, piercing golden eyes scanned the arena with a look of absolute, unyielding determination. She wore a simple, highly functional leather combat tunic that offered maximum mobility.
As the crowd roared her name, Adelina smiled brightly. She raised her hand and enthusiastically waved to the spectators. She then turned her gaze up toward the VIP box, specifically searching the crowd until she found her older brother. She waved her hand frantically at him.
Avalon, standing near the railing, threw his arms into the air and excitedly, happily waved back to her.
"Go get 'em, sis! Beat her royal ass!" Avalon bellowed at the top of his lungs, completely without fear or regard for aristocratic decorum.
The members of the Royal Family sitting nearby clearly heard his treasonous shout. The Emperor simply sighed, rubbing his temples at the instructor's boorish behavior. The First Empress, however, scowled deeply, snapping her silk fan shut in sheer disgust.
"Goddamn, filthy commoners..." the First Empress murmured venomously under her breath, glaring at Adelina.
The commoner section of the stadium was going absolutely insane.
"Adelina!"
"Adelina!"
"Adelina!"
"Adelina!"
"Adelina!"
"Adelina!"
"Adelina!"
"Adelina!"
Adelina's classmates and the martial initiates were cheering for her with a fanatical, almost religious fervor. She was already incredibly famous, not just among the commoners, but even among the lower nobility, purely because of how overwhelmingly powerful and undeniably genius she was with a blade. Even the High Priests of the Capital had publicly called her the next Sword Saint, claiming she was directly, tangibly blessed by Goddess Zeonhoniah herself.
Up in the middle tiers, Rudeus leaned heavily on his right hand, looking down at the two incredibly powerful, incredibly important women facing off in the sand.
He didn't cheer for either of the challengers. He didn't clap. He just looked at them both with a manner of profound, exhausted boredom.
'Sighs. I really, truly just want to go back to my dorm and get some actual, deep sleep already...' Rudeus complained inwardly, his eyes drooping slightly. He had been awake for over thirty hours and had fought a minor war.
Down in the arena, the Chief Arbiter raised his hand high.
"COMBATANTS! READY!"
Both women dropped into their respective combat stances. Veronica's hands glowed with a brilliant, blinding white light. Adelina drew her sword, holding it in a flawless, two-handed Vanguard grip.
"FIGHT!"
The Arbiter blew the horn and immediately teleported back to his secure observation seat, getting out of the blast radius.
The two girls did not immediately clash. They began to slowly circle each other around the center of the vast arena, their eyes locked, assessing distances and magical output.
Adelina offered a bright, confident, highly protagonist-like smile.
"It is incredibly good to finally meet you on the field, Princess..." Adelina called out, her voice clear and ringing with excitement.
"I truly hope I will thoroughly enjoy crossing blades in this—"
Adelina didn't even finish her sentence.
She simply disappeared.
She didn't use a magical teleportation art like Amanda's Shadow Step. She utilized pure, unadulterated, superhuman physical speed, fueled by her divine blessing. She moved so fast she literally broke the sound barrier, a loud crack echoing in the center of the ring where she had just been standing.
In less than a microsecond, she reappeared directly above Veronica, suspended high in the air.
Adelina gripped the hilt of her sword with both hands, channeling a massive surge of golden aura into the blade.
"FIGHT!" Adelina shouted her own battle cry, swinging the sword downward in a devastating, blindingly fast arc.
Up in the stands, Rudeus's sleepy crimson eyes suddenly snapped wide open. He sat bolt upright on the stone bench, entirely shocked by the weapon the commoner girl had just drawn.
'Wait! Hold on a goddamn minute!' Rudeus screamed inwardly, leaning forward. 'That's—that's her ultimate, signature sword from the late-game illustrations! The Blade of the Dawn!'
He couldn't believe his eyes. He absolutely didn't expect her to already have acquired that specific, legendary weapon this early in the timeline. According to the strict, canonical lore of the game, Adelina wasn't supposed to find that sword until deep into Arc 2, after a massive, multi-stage dungeon raid in one of their territories!
Rudeus stared at the golden blade, his mind racing as he realized the terrifying implications.
He let out a heavy, cynical sigh, slumping back onto the bench. He just shrugged his broad shoulders.
'Well. So what? Who cares if the fundamental plot of the universe is already massively, irreparably changing and accelerating even before the main game's timeline officially starts...'
Rudeus crossed his arms, a cold, uncaring smirk returning to his face.
'FUCK THE PLOT!' Rudeus decided inwardly. He was going to survive regardless of what magical swords the protagonist wielded.
Down in the arena, the battle was reaching a fever pitch.
Adelina's downward strike was blindingly fast.
But Veronica, despite her exhaustion, possessed the raw, superior magical reflexes of the royal bloodline.
With a frantic wave of her glowing hands, Veronica conjured a thick, crystalline shield of pure, hardened light magic just inches above her head.
-CLANG!
Adelina's golden sword smashed into the light shield. The impact sent a massive shockwave across the arena, shattering the shield into a million glittering fragments, but the deflection provided Veronica with the crucial millisecond she needed to physically dive roll backward across the sand, narrowly avoiding being cleaved in half.
Veronica scrambled to her feet, panting heavily. Adelina landed gracefully and immediately launched into a relentless, overwhelming flurry of high-speed thrusts and sweeping slashes, forcing the Princess onto the absolute defensive.
Veronica was desperately backpedaling, throwing up rapid-fire light shields and firing off blinding concussive blasts to keep the monstrously fast commoner at bay. She was losing ground rapidly. Adelina's speed was simply too overwhelming.
As she desperately dodged another lethal thrust that singed the fabric of her uniform, Veronica's oceanic eyes frantically scanned the crowd, unconsciously seeking an anchor in the chaos.
Her eyes met Rudeus's.
He was sitting calmly in the middle tiers, watching her get pushed to the brink.
As their eyes locked across the vast distance of the Coliseum, Rudeus didn't sneer. He didn't look bored anymore.
He simply raised his right hand, looked her dead in the eye, and gave her a firm, incredibly confident, supportive thumbs up.
It was a simple, universally understood gesture of absolute good luck.
Veronica's eyes widened slightly amidst the flurry of blades. A sudden, massive surge of warmth and entirely unexpected confidence flooded her chest, completely overriding her exhaustion and panic.
She smiled. It was a fierce, radiant, breathtakingly beautiful smile.
She snapped her gaze back to the advancing Adelina.
"Finally!" Adelina laughed, pressing her attack harder, genuinely enjoying the thrill of the duel. "You are not just ignoring me and running away anymore, Princess!"
Adelina lunged forward again, maintaining her relentless, overwhelming offensive pressure.
Suddenly, utilizing her superhuman speed, Adelina executed a flawless feint. She faked a thrust to the chest, blurred out of existence, and instantaneously teleported directly behind Veronica's unprotected back.
Adelina widened her golden eyes in triumph, raising her blade to deliver the finishing, non-lethal strike to the back of the Princess's neck to force a yield.
But she was entirely too late.
Veronica had anticipated the feint. She didn't turn around. She didn't try to block.
She stood perfectly still, closing her eyes, and channeled the absolute entirety of her remaining royal mana pool into a single, highly classified, profoundly dangerous spell that she had inherited directly from her mother.
"Illumination Art:" Veronica chanted, her voice ringing with ancient, terrifying authority.
The air around her practically vibrated with concentrated light.
"Gaze of the Stars!"
Veronica snapped her oceanic eyes open. They were no longer blue; they were glowing with a blinding, cosmic, starlight incandescence.
A massive, invisible pulse of pure, concentrated mental-interference magic exploded outward from her body in a 360-degree radius.
It struck Adelina instantly.
Adelina's triumphant golden eyes widened in profound, sudden confusion. She stopped dead in her tracks, her raised sword freezing in mid-air.
The mental interference hit her central nervous system like a sledgehammer. Her vision blurred. The roaring crowd faded into absolute silence.
Slowly, her eyelids fluttered. The legendary, impossibly fast Sword Saint stumbled forward, her knees giving out completely.
The heavy golden sword slipped from her grasp, landing in the sand with a dull thud.
Adelina collapsed forward, completely unconscious, falling into an unnaturally deep, magically induced sleep before she even hit the ground.
The entire Coliseum went utterly, breathtakingly silent.
The tens of thousands of spectators, the royal family, and the commoners were left in a state of absolute, paralyzed shock as the entirely unexpected, seemingly impossible result unfolded before their eyes. The untouchable protagonist had been defeated in a single move.
In the center of the silent arena, Veronica dropped to her hands and knees in the sand.
"Haah... haaah... haaah... haaaaahhh!!!"
Veronica gasped frantically for air, her chest heaving violently, her entire body trembling from extreme magical depletion.
'I should absolutely never, ever use that specific spell in a public setting again,' Veronica thought inwardly, her vision swimming with dark spots as a severe magical migraine split her skull. 'It consumes so incredibly much mana. Even back when Mom first taught me the theoretical foundations of that ability, she warned me it could drain my core dry.'
The "Gaze of the Stars" was an ancient, highly restricted Illumination Art designed primarily to manipulate an opponent's optical nerves and mind, rendering them stunned and disoriented for a crucial second during combat.
But because Veronica's magical bloodline was incredibly, uniquely superior—thanks to the potent, hidden Witch genetics she had inherited from her mother—the ability was exponentially more powerful than it was ever documented to be. Instead of merely inflicting a momentary stun, Veronica could actively commandeer the target's neural pathways and force their brain into a deep, inescapable, comatose sleep for a full minute. It was a one-hit knockout against anyone without absolute mental fortification.
The Chief Arbiter, recovering from his profound shock faster than the crowd, quickly teleported down to the unconscious Adelina. He checked her vitals, confirming she was merely asleep and completely unharmed.
He stood up, raising his horn high into the air, his voice trembling slightly with excitement at the monumental upset.
"THE—THE UNDISPUTED WINNER OF THE FINAL ROUND, AND THE ULTIMATE CHAMPION OF THIS TOURNAMENT IS!!!!!"
He pointed dramatically at the panting, kneeling royal.
"PRINCESS VERONICA ADNELIA VAN ROSANIA!!!!!!!"
The Coliseum finally erupted. The silence shattered into a deafening, chaotic roar of absolute jubilation from the high nobles, while the commoner section groaned in collective, heartbroken disappointment.
Princess Veronica had become the ultimate, undisputed winner of the First-Year Exams.
Up in the stands, Rudeus threw his head back and laughed loudly, a sound of genuine, surprised amusement.
'Hahaha! To think she would actually, desperately resort to using that specific, overpowered spell just to win a school tournament, huh?' Rudeus thought, shaking his head in disbelief.
That specific ability, Gaze of the Stars, was absolutely not even supposed to appear in the narrative until much later in the game's timeline, during a critical life-or-death scenario. But here he was, completely shocked that Veronica had actively chosen to deploy that highly classified, incredibly powerful ability, even knowing that it would completely exhaust her and entirely empty her massive mana pool.
It was still highly commendable that she possessed the tactical audacity to use it directly against the overwhelmingly powerful, seemingly invincible protagonist of the universe. She didn't roll over and accept defeat to the "main character." She fought back with everything she had.
"Congrats," Rudeus murmured to himself, speaking to the empty air in front of him. Even though it seemed physically impossible for Veronica to hear his quiet voice over the deafening roar of fifty thousand cheering spectators, he still felt the need to formally, privately congratulate the ultimate winner of this brutal tournament.
Down in the arena, the Chief Arbiter approached Veronica, holding a large, ornate silver platter containing the grand champion's award and the golden medallion.
"WA-WAIT! ONE MOMENT, ARBITER!" Before the Chief Arbiter could even present her with the award, Veronica raised a hand.
She focused the absolute, final, desperate dregs of her remaining mana pool.
She utilized a rudimentary, incredibly sloppy spatial displacement spell. She effortlessly, instantly teleported herself completely out of the arena.
She materialized directly in front of Rudeus, standing on the stone steps of the middle tier, causing several nearby nobles to shriek in surprise and scramble away.
Rudeus, leaning back on his bench, looked up at her in mild surprise. She was panting, her hair was a mess, and her uniform was singed, but she looked incredibly proud of herself.
"What?" Rudeus asked, raising a lazy eyebrow. "I literally just offered you my congratulations from afar. Did you teleport all the way up here just to gloat?"
"I didn't hear it," Veronica replied smoothly.
Suddenly, a bright, mischievous, incredibly triumphant smile broke across her flushed, beautiful face. She placed her hands on her hips, leaning slightly over him.
"I want to hear you say it again. To my face," Veronica demanded, her oceanic blue eyes dancing with amusement. "My dear fiancé."
She deliberately, weaponized the title, saying it with a teasing, melodic lilt.
Rudeus stared at her for a second, absolutely flabbergasted by her sudden, playful audacity.
"Are you... are you really, actually trying to tease me right now?" Rudeus asked, completely baffled by the dramatic shift in her personality. Three months ago, she was weeping in a garden; today she was acting like a smug victor demanding praise.
"Yeeep!" Veronica replied brightly, popping the 'p'. She leaned an inch closer. "So, say it properly."
Rudeus let out a long, heavy, incredibly long-suffering sigh, dramatically rolling his eyes toward the ceiling.
"Fine. Congratulations on your victory, Princess," Rudeus deadpanned, his voice completely devoid of enthusiasm.
"And...?" Veronica prompted, her mischievous smile widening even further, refusing to let him off the hook.
Rudeus groaned, rubbing his temples, realizing he wasn't going to win this specific battle of attrition.
"And... I am incredibly, profoundly proud of my officially mandated fiancée for winning this goddamn, overly loud tournament," Rudeus recited, his voice dripping with heavy, manufactured annoyance at her relentless teasing. He looked up at her. "Are you perfectly happy and satisfied now?"
"Thanks!" Veronica chirped, offering a bright, beaming smile of absolute satisfaction.
Rudeus just aggressively rolled his crimson eyes and leaned back against the stone bench, crossing his arms.
"Whatever..." Rudeus grumbled, looking away.
Veronica just smiled softly at his highly annoyed, flustered reply. She stood there for a moment, basking in the warm sunlight and the strange, comfortable camaraderie they had somehow managed to forge out of the ashes of their mutual hatred.
'That's the exact, perfect payment you get for falling asleep on me in the waiting room earlier without my explicit royal permission, you idiot,' Veronica said inwardly, a deeply fond, triumphant feeling blossoming in her chest.
She turned her head slightly, offering one final, highly aristocratic, but entirely playful, huff.
'Hmph!'