Zamel felt the force of the impact ripple through his body—his arms throbbed from the strain, his bones creaked under the pressure, and his muscles teetered on the verge of being torn asunder by his cousin’s merciless attack. Thankfully, his sword managed to absorb the brunt of the blow.

It was a good thing he had reacted in time to shield himself from Merina's strike. Instinctively, he shuddered at the thought of taking the full force of her kick directly. If that had happened, he would be lying on the ground right now, bloody and broken.

His grip on his sword tightened as the bitterness churned in his gut. He had believed he was close to reaching the heights Merina had attained with her talent. He reasoned that with the countless hours of effort he had poured into his training, he would finally be able to defeat his cousin.

Although he was improving, compared to Merina, the paced of his improvements would be akin to a snail crawling on the ground, in contrast to Merina who soared through the sky like a falcon.

He forced himself to calm down, gripping his mind before it spiraled out of control. He purged the dark feelings in his heart before they could fester into something more sinister. Refocusing on the fight, he knew that getting distracted now would do him no good.

With renewed vigor, he swung his sword with all his might, sending Merina flying backward. He watched her soar through the air but didn’t seize the opportunity to launch another attack. Instead, he took a brief moment of respite, gulping in air hungrily to regain his strength.

He strategized first, thinking of ways to gain the upper hand in their fight. Reflecting on their previous clash moments ago, he knew he couldn’t allow Merina to take control, or he would be at a severe disadvantage. If that happened, he wouldn’t last long under the mercy of her unimaginable strength and unparalleled agility.

He needed to stay on the offensive—only then could he dictate the flow of their battle. He had to give his all to force her into a defensive position.

With a strategy in mind, he dashed toward Merina with a great burst of speed, his sword held in a stabbing position as he thrust it toward her chest.

Merina dodged effortlessly. Zamel, undeterred, quickly shifted his body, targeting her legs with a sweeping kick. Merina jumped to evade, but Zamel, already predicting her movement, adjusted his stance and aimed both legs to kick her midair.

Merina instantly recognized his plan and swiftly brought her arms to her chest, bracing for impact. Zamel’s kick sent her hurtling backward, but she used the momentum to twist midair, flipping gracefully before landing on her feet.

The moment she touched the ground, Zamel was already upon her. With no hesitation, he raised his sword high and brought it down in a powerful overhead strike, unconcerned by the deadly force behind his attack.

This time, Merina caught the blade with her bare hands, ignoring the stinging pain. She yanked the sword toward her, aiming to destabilize Zamel, then followed up with a kick to his right side.

Zamel had no choice but to endure the attack. He couldn't let go of his sword—doing so would be the same as admitting defeat, and that was unacceptable for a warrior. After all, if you cut the claws and removed the fangs of a beast, it would die moments later. The same could be said for a swordsman without his sword.

He gritted his teeth as the force of her attack struck his right side, pain throbbing through him. Fortunately, due to Merina's position, she hadn’t been able to shift her body enough to generate full momentum behind the strike.

His mind raced for solutions—he couldn’t let this continue. One attack was painful enough, but if she followed up with a flurry of strikes, he wouldn’t be able to endure for long.

Countless ideas flooded his mind, yet each one ended in an unfavorable outcome. Seconds ticked by, and before he could act, a sharp pain radiated through his body once more. His jaw locked as he endured it—Merina had struck him again and was already preparing to unleash another relentless assault. She showed no mercy, her attacks unyielding as she pressed her advantage.

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After the fourth strike, he finally found a way out—a dirty trick, but a way out nonetheless. Without hesitation, he executed his plan.

He spat at her—aiming directly for her face. He felt no guilt or shame in his actions, justifying that she deserved it.

A shit-eating grin spread across his face as he saw her reaction. His spit, mixed with blood from her brutal strikes, was a fitting payback for the pain she had inflicted.

Merina, unable to react in time, took the hit straight to her face—specifically, her eyes. Her vision blurred as the warm, disgusting sensation spread across her skin. She hadn't expected this. Though she viewed Zamel as a dirt-eating fool, she never thought he would stoop this low.

He heard varying reactions from the crowd but paid no heed. He pulled his sword free—this time with no resistance—and quickly followed up with an attack, shifting his weight in preparation to strike.

Merina, panicked by the loss of her vision, was unable to prepare for Zamel's attack.

Zamel struck with a diagonal slash, his blade biting into Merina’s shoulder. He didn’t need to guess whether it had been effective—her scream echoed through the room.

Merina roared in pain, staggering back as the force of the blow rippled through her body. Though the sword hadn’t cut deeply, the sheer impact sent her staggering back as the force of the blow rippled through her body. Hastily, she leaped backward, scrubbing at her eyes in a desperate attempt to regain her sight.

Zamel pressed his assault. He dashed forward, his sword sweeping toward her hip like a predator closing in on weakened prey.

Unfortunately for Merina, the distance wasn’t enough—she hadn’t recovered her vision in time. The blow landed cleanly, and another cry of pain wrenched from her lips as the sharp sting reverberated through her body. She clenched her teeth, frustration boiling beneath the pain. She had to recover, or this fight would be over before she could even fight back.

Zamel, relishing her agony, smirked. The sound of her scream fueled his satisfaction, and without hesitation, he launched another attack.

This time, his luck ran out. Merina finally restored her sight and locked eyes with Zamel, her glare burning with the fury of a caged inferno. She kicked away his sword, deflecting the thrust aimed at her solar plexus. Displaying remarkable agility, she exploded forward with a speed never seen before—this time, striking with her fist, aiming straight for his chest.

Zamel was unable to brace for her attack—it connected squarely at his chest and pain erupted through his body as he soared backward, crashing into the table.

He gritted his teeth as he struggled to rise, but the force of the blow proved too much. Failing to suppress the urge, he coughed up blood, the metallic taste filling his mouth.

"You fucking piece of shit," he heard her snarl.

"I will fucking kill you for that, you dirty bastard," she spat again, her voice dripping with venom.

He let out a pained laugh. Shit, looks like I pissed her off even more, he thought.

Then, he looked at her and saw that she was walking toward him.

A strange ripple distorted the space around her. Confusion filled his mind, but it cleared seconds later—only to be replaced by shock.

Her hands ignited with flames, her eyes glowed, and her hair shimmered with an otherworldly hue.

Surprised by her transformation, he couldn't help but gulp. It looked like she was dead set on killing him.

Fortunately, he had managed to recover, at least a little. Now standing straight, he quickly adjusted his posture, shifting into a sword stance—his blade held in front of him while his body angled slightly to the side.

He gathered mana as well, the space around him distorting slightly, visible only to those with trained eyes. Although he had no elemental attribute, he was somewhat confident in his mana control, even without a core.

The difference between their magic was vast, but he hoped the gap in their talent wasn’t too overwhelming. After all, neither of them had cores yet—they were set to receive them later today.

He then spread mana throughout his body, reinforcing everything—from his bones to his joints, from his muscles to his tendons. He readied himself for the inevitable clash.

He had hoped it wouldn’t come to this, but it seemed Merina wasn’t holding back. As such, he wouldn’t either.

The crowd now debated whether to step in, especially the guards. This time, the battle between the two could result in serious injuries. Controlling mana without a core or proper supervision was dangerous—it could cripple them or, worse, result in death.

Before anyone could move, a deep, booming voice resounded throughout the room.

"Enough of this," they heard—a voice as cold as winter frost.

"This farce ends now." This time, the voice was even colder, each word laced with an icy finality.

A shudder ran through the crowd as they turned toward the source of the voice.

There, standing at the door on the other side of the room, were three figures.

They stood still, their gazes piercing and cold as they stared down at everyone in the room.