Zyler did not hesitate and went past the thick glass pane, entering the anti-mana zone.

Across him was a bronze-skinned young woman with wavy ginger hair and honey brown irises. His eyes darted off to her well toned pear-shaped build and her fitted clothing, as well as the small daggers lodged at the sides of her thigh.

'She uses daggers?'

"Keep your eyes off me, pervert."

He coughed in embarrassment.

"...Pardon me if you found it rude. I was looking at your daggers."

She shook her head and rolled her eyes sassily.

"Men and their excuses."

Zyler flashed a coy smile in return, he picked up an ebony bow at the weaponry. He casually hopped on to the arena.

"How may I entertain a beautiful lady such as yourself?"

"I appreciate the effort, but I don't like flirtatious men."

She kicked the ground and sprinted towards Zyler, revealing her dual short swords from its leather sheathe.

"Charging at me head on. How feisty~"

Zyler slid forward, matching her pace.

'He's closing in the distance? Not widening it?'

As soon as Alvarra's feet left the floor leaving her midair, Zyler lowered his posture and pivoted his body, quickly drawing his bow to her defenseless body.

As soon as the arrow left his bowstring, Alvarra smacked it with her dagger, making the the arrow lose its momentum and fall on the floor.

She landed gracefully and rolled to fix her position.

"Tsk."

She swung her short sword, drawing a diagonal crescent arc towards Zyler's shoulder. The latter dodged and widened their distance and shooting another batch of arrows.

"Your fighting style is peculiar for an archer."

Alvarra ducked and moved from side to side to avoid the arrows, but some grazed her side and left a faint tear at her leather top.

"Thanks, I grew up from street fights."

She unleashed a flurry of her remaining flying daggers, each aiming at Zyler's vital points without hesitation.

"That wasn't a compliment."

Zyler used his bow's wooden arc as shield, the daggers firmly planting onto its ebony shell. Having many daggers attached to it that can hinder his movements, he threw it away and grabbed two arrows, breaking away its feathered end.

He held it in reverse grip and firmly pointed its sharp ends at Alvarra, who relentlessly swung her sword with connected movements.

"Quit playing around—"

She dodged his shallow attack to her side, pivoting her body to throw a straight jab at Zyler's jaw. Utilizing his clear surprise, she gripped her short swords tightly to prepare her next attack.

"—And pick up another bow!"

Alvarra raised her arms and crossed her short swords, intending to put her all into this last blow. He seized the small opening at her front and lunged the sharp tip of the arrow at her throat pressing it lightly.

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Consequently, Alvarra's short swords each touched the sides of Zyler's neck, ready to cleave it.

Professor Louise blew her whistle placing her hand between the two to separate them.

"Zyler Elijah Ravencrown, passed!"

"Alvarra LeFlorence, passed!"

Zyler let out a quick exhale as the blade moved away from his neck.

"I hope you pass the last trial. Having a rematch in the future wouldn't be as bad." Alvarra went past him, sheathing her short swords.

"I'll look forward to it." Zyler shot her a faint smirk, narrowing his eyes slightly. "I won't go as easy next time."

Alvarra darted her head around and eyed Zyler from head to toe.

"You wish."

Professor Louise checked her pocket watch before continuing.

"We're up for the last match."

"Aster Riverblood. Lancelot. Ascend the fighting arena."

Expecting his turn, Aster rose from his seat and headed for the arena. Everyone in the room seemed to halt their breaths as they watched his every slow and nimble steps. Likewise, Lancelot also rose from his seat, now unable to hide his sharp aura. He was clearly excited.

'Huh?'

Zyler stared at Aster with dumbfounded eyes. Alvarra had long left the arena, and he was there in the middle standing still like a fool.

'He was Aster Riverblood? The top passer? The rude guy who left the examination room first?'

Zyler recalled all the empty seats around Aster, and how he confidently scoffed at his aloofness.

'Goddamn pride, I should've just sat next to him...'

In actuality, the one standing before them wasn't actually Aster, but Seith, now having his long hair tied up in a high ponytail to not hinder his movements. He held his trusty cold steel sword with an odd sense of familiarity.

'This room really repels mana. These guys, if only they knew how dependent Sorenians are to mana, it'll be chaos.'

'I'll only garner unnecessary suspicion if I finish this too quickly and one-sidedly. At the very least, I meed to match this human's level.'

Seith stopped circulating the mana within him and forcibly kept it all within his body, blocking it from oozing out of his mana veins. His core responded with a dull ache, but he ignored it.

If he were to basically admit it, mana to Sorenians was akin to the earthlings' oxygen. Their mythical bodies are maintained by the constant flow of ambient mana in their surroundings; attracting, consuming, and expelling it. Putting a Sorenian in an anti-mana zone is like putting an human in a vacuum.

Most Sorenians undergo trainings at their earliest age in order to deal with this potential encounter, but the fragments' circumstances are a little unique to consider, so all they could rely on was their meager experience and a bit of nonexistent willpower.

'10 minutes is my limit. I just need to hold on for 10 minutes before my mana reaches dangerous levels.'

Seith circles around Lancelot with slow steps.

Tap.

His sword's scabbard lightly tapped the first corner of the room in nimble motion.

Lancelot's face hardened.

'He's standing there without much regard, yet I can't see any openings.'

Tap.

Seith tapped the second corner of the room. Lancelot remained standing at his place, his eyes intently observing his every motion.

'What is he doing?' Is this some kind of diversion tactic?'

"I've always wondered about who scored the highest in the written test. Turns out you seem to know a bit about fighting as well."

Tap.

"Do you know what I hate dealing with the most?" Seith gently lowered his head in a ferociously cold voice, subtly imitating Aster's way of speaking.

His wrist twisted the sword on hand, preparing his stance in an unnoticeable way. He kept his posture relaxed while his feet was firmly planted on the ground.

"It's always the talkative ones."

Tap.

As soon as his sword tapped the last corner of room, he lightly nodded to himself.

Normally, he relied on the ambient mana in the air to sense the world around him. In a zone that repels the presence of mana, he had to rely on one of his body's most basic sense: his sensitive hearing.

'Any form of sound will do.'

He just needed to utilize the frequency waves scattering across the room to sense his position. After quickly familiarizing their plain terrain, Seith slightly unsheathed his sword with his thumb.

The two disappeared from their positions with a wisp of smoke.

Their first exchange of blows was swift and concise. Lancelot made the first strike, while Seith parried it by rotating the direction of the attack back to him.

Lancelot connected his failed attack with a fust to Seith's ribs, which the latter avoided by shifting his body to strike Lancelot's wrist with handle of his sword, holding it in reverse grip.

Lancelot lightly shook his throbbing wrist and lunged towards Seith again, his blows going increasingly heavier.

Seith moved agilely, dodging his sword just by a few inches. His jet-black hair tied in a high ponytail would sway vigorously, accompanying his movements. Seith emptied his mind, solely focusing on Lancelot's attacks.

Then, seizing a slight opening, Seith managed to leave a cut at Lancelot's left thigh. The latter grimaced in pain, while Seith hid his displeasure with a cold, emotionless expression.

'Too shallow.'

The crowd watching their spar held their breaths in anticipation tracking their each movements. Professor Louise crossed her arms, her eyes flickering in interest.

More specifically, her eyes curiously trailed trying to peek at his arctic eyes, which remained unmoving and steady in place.

She had been observing Aster Riverblood particularly among the applicants present, discreetly showing her curiosity since reading his test answers. Since a while ago, his eyes remained blank as if he was staring into nothingness, and this confused Professor Louise. She could barely catch him blink, as if he was some inanimate statue.

'He...couldn't be, could he?'

Her mind wandered to his odd movement of circling the arena first, as if feeling it, not seeing it.

Lancelot cracked his knuckles and swung his sword again. Seith blocked it holding his position firmly as he pushed forward. Lancelot squatted and slid his feet towards Seith's side, attempting to disrupt his balance. The latter hopped and backed away to a corner of the arena, tapping the wall with his sword's handle twice while lowering his head.

"Where—"

Lancelot responded by stabbing his sword to Seith with a faibt trace of killing intent, seizing the opportunity of striking him while he's trapped in the corner.

"Are you looking...!"

Seith focused on the sound of Lancelot's sword cutting the wind, lunging straight at him. He reflexively raised his own blade vertically to slide it off and repel its attack, but his timing missed, creating a rough friction between the two swords' edge. Feeling it was too late to stop the incoming sword stab, Seith shifted his body to barely dodge the sword from piercing his shoulder blades, only leaving a light graze.

Intentionally dulling his movements to match his opponent's, on top of his lack of practice, was harder than it seemed.

Seith's feet faintly stumbled, his footwork not connecting with his body's movement.

Seith clicked his tongue.

'Tsk, Careless. I guess there's a limit to what muscle memory can do.'

[Cover it!]

'What?'

[It's barely even a scratch, but you must cover it!]

[Kaisellin's gilded Sorenian blood!]

'Shit.'

How could he forget?

With the two standing close to each other, Seith used the wall behind him to propel his feet, flipping his body upwards while his hand clutched Lancelot's shoulder for support.

Unable to react on time, Lancelot could only raise his head and catch a glimpse of Seith's face up close, with his gaze inevitably landing on his unfocused blank eyes.

Suddenly, it all clicked like a gear moving in sync. The continuous tapping, the unfocused eyes never looking directly at him, and the way he missed his defensive attack despite the closeness in proximity.

Lancelot's face tensed up in confusion. He couldn't take off his widened chocolate eyes at Seith's blank arctic ones.

'He's...blind?!'

As soon as Seith's hand left its grasp on Lancelot's shoulders, he spun midair and landed a horizontal kick straight at Lancelot's neck.