Lucifer's flames blazed with a purity of mana that far surpassed the frozen energy wielded by Seraphina. As his fiery attacks clashed with her violet petals, they sliced through with ease, burning them away like paper in a fire.

This outcome was inevitable. Both wielded Grade 6 arts, but Lucifer's level of mastery was higher, and his mana rank placed him a tier above Seraphina. Even without tapping into the full power of his Gift, the odds were stacked against her. It was no surprise that Lucifer would one day earn the title of 'Divine Swordsman.'

His verdant eyes narrowed in focus as he swiftly performed mental calculations, deploying his circle magic with practiced precision.

"Four-circle spell: Fire Lance."

A spear of roaring flames materialized before him, crackling with intense heat. With a flick of his wrist, he sent the lance hurtling toward Seraphina.

Her crystalline blue eyes sparkled with determination as she raised her sword, unleashing a flurry of violet petals to intercept the attack. The petals swirled around the fiery projectile, trying to smother its advance. But Lucifer's flames were relentless, burning through her defenses until the lance finally met her blade.

BOOM!

The impact sent a shockwave through the air, blasting Seraphina backward. Her skin bore the brunt of the explosion, slightly singed from the fire, but largely protected by the icy aura she had hastily conjured. She landed on her feet, her expression resolute, though the burn marks on her skin revealed the toll the battle was taking.

With skilled healers on standby, there was no fear of lasting injuries, even if someone were to lose a limb. This allowed both contestants to unleash their full power without hesitation. However, despite the intensity of the battle, Lucifer wasn't giving it his all against Seraphina.

Seraphina's gaze sharpened as she observed Lucifer. His stance was relaxed, his sword held with a loose grip, and there wasn't the slightest tension in his body. He exuded confidence, his posture almost casual, as if this duel was nothing more than a routine exercise.

"I give up," Seraphina finally said, her voice carrying a hint of resignation. She knew there was no point in prolonging a battle where the outcome was already clear. The gap between their strength was too wide, and continuing would only delay the inevitable.

The audience, who had been holding their breath in anticipation, erupted into thunderous applause. They understood the disparity between the two and appreciated Seraphina's decision to bow out gracefully.

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"Lucifer, Lucifer, Lucifer!" they chanted, their voices echoing through the arena as they celebrated his victory.

As Valerie announced Lucifer's victory, Seraphina descended the steps of the arena, the roar of the crowd fading into a distant hum. Each cheer and shout felt like a distant echo, a world away from the turmoil within her. She walked past her friends without a word, her steps brisk, her focus singular. Reaching her room, she closed the door behind her with a forceful thud, the sound reverberating in the silence that followed.

Finally alone, she opened her eyes, allowing herself to feel the emotion she had been holding back. A sharp pang struck her heart.

Ah.

This was disappointment.

It was an emotion she had long since buried, taught to suppress from a young age because of her adopted brother, Sun Zenith. No matter how hard she trained, no matter how much she accomplished, there were walls she could never surmount. The shadow of her brother's prodigious talent loomed large over her, a constant reminder of her own limitations.

But now, faced with the reality of her defeat, a question began to gnaw at her.

She had always told herself she could live with it. But why? Why did she have to accept it? Was it because she was weak? Because she wasn't Sun Zenith, or Lucifer Windward, or Ren Kagu? The thought twisted in her mind, unsettling and bitter.

"...How annoying," she muttered, her voice low and filled with frustration. The feeling churned within her, foreign and unwelcome. She didn't like it—this sensation of inadequacy, of being less than she wanted to be.

And yet, there it was, refusing to be ignored.

"I wonder," Seraphina thought, her mind drifting, "How did Arthur deal with this?"

Arthur Nightingale.

From a glance, no one would have pegged him as a member of Class 1-A. After all, Class 1-A was filled with the world's elite—princes, princesses, and prodigies. And then there was Arthur, the son of a knight captain serving a count in the Slatemark Empire. His lineage was humble, a stark contrast to the noble bloodlines of his peers.

In the beginning, it wasn't just his lineage that seemed lacking. His strength, his talent—they both paled in comparison to the other members of Class 1-A. He was an outlier, seemingly out of place among the chosen few.

Yet, something about Arthur drew Seraphina to him. She had approached him initially because she thought he might be like her—someone who couldn't feel disappointment as acutely, someone who had learned to bury it deep within.

But she was wrong.

Arthur was nothing like her.

He was relentless, always striving to be the best, pushing himself beyond what seemed possible. What amazed her even more was his ability to connect with others. He was sociable, likable, effortlessly making friends with nearly everyone in Class 1-A and beyond. There was an undeniable charm about him, a magnetic quality that pulled people in.

Now, Arthur was no longer the boy overshadowed by his peers. He had grown, evolved, and was now a serious contender for Lucifer's crown, poised to claim the title of Sovereign in the tournament.

He had come so far, so quickly.

As Seraphina reflected on Arthur's journey, she couldn't help but feel a mix of admiration and envy. He had faced his challenges head-on, never allowing himself to be defeated by doubt or fear. He had turned his perceived weaknesses into strengths, proving that it wasn't where you started but how far you were willing to go that truly mattered.

She wanted to be like him.