Overwhelming Firepower

Even now, Mireya, who was lying on her bed, was in a state of stunned silence. She knew that Lucen was strong, but she never imagined he was strong enough to defeat Eisen.

She had known Eisen since she was very young. She was someone her mother personally scouted, and he was also someone Seraphina taught alongside her.

The first time she felt that vast amount of mana, she was so afraid that she cried then and there.

Mireya was convinced that no one of the same generation as Eisen would be able to beat him, but then Lucen showed up and did it.

She had only seen half of their battle and was amazed by the sight. She started to wonder if she and they were truly of the same generation.

Her fingertips brushed against the fabric of her blanket as she whispered to herself,

”… Am I falling behind?”

Mireya, who did not really care too much about strengthening herself and only cared about learning more, suddenly felt something weird.

She never wanted to compete. She never wanted to compare. She loved learning, not fighting. She preferred books over blades.

As an Aeromont, there was no question of her talent. She had only done the bare minimum of training for combat and focused on learning new things, new spells.

’Yeah, they might be ahead of combat, but I’m good at other things.’ Mireya comforted herself.

’Still, I guess it won’t hurt to get a little stronger than I am now... just a little.’ Mireya decided to ask her mother to help train her for combat.

She then tried to sleep, but as she closed her eyes, the memory of Lucen and Eisen’s final exchange would not leave her mind.

Mireya then got up and got into a lotus position. Since she was unable to sleep, she might as well do something productive until she gets sleepy.

Mireya felt the mana core in the center of her abdomen. She then sensed the two circles that spun like rings around her mana core. She breathed in and out, allowing her to sense the flow of mana within her and outside.

The faint moonlight that entered her room through her window shone down on her, matching the light of her mana that enveloped her.

***

In another area of Caelhart, Evander Judicar was inside the Temple of the Goddess of Justice and Judgment.

The temple was quiet, its marble floor cold beneath his knees, its tall pillars lit by only a few lanterns. The faint scent of incense drifted through the air, heavy yet calming.

Unlike Elyra and Mireya, who felt inadequate when they watched the battle between Lucen and Eisen, Evander did not feel such a thing.

He was in awe of the skill the two had shown in the last match, but that was it. He did feel a little embarrassed that, as the oldest among the ducal heirs, he was also the first to be eliminated among them in the tournament.

Despite his image of someone with grace and maturity, he was still a teenager. In his mind, the reason for this shame was that he was not pious enough.

Evander lowered his head further, pressing his forehead against his clasped hands.

”As an apprentice holy knight of the Goddess of Justice,” he murmured quietly, ”I should not be swayed by pride… or by comparison.”

The pale blue flames in the lanterns flickered as if responding. In truth, it didn’t matter if he was not as good as the other ducal heirs in combat.

His purpose was different. His path was different. He was meant to embody fairness, discipline, and unwavering faith.

And yet... He still felt a sting of disappointment when he thought of losing first.

”To feel envy... To feel humiliation...” He whispered, hands tightening. ”These... They are impure thoughts. I should not have them. As an apprentice holy knight who serves the Goddess of Justice and Judgment, I must never waver in my path.”

He clenched his fist and tapped it lightly against his chest, a knight’s vow. He inhaled deeply, letting the incense fill his lungs, then exhaled slowly to calm his thoughts.

Evander lifted his gaze to the beautiful statue towering before him, her blade in one hand, and the scales in the other resting in elegant stillness.

”Please forgive my weakness,” he whispered. ”Grant me clarity. Allow me to walk the path of Justice without faltering.”

The temple remained silent. No divine voice answered him, no miracle occurred. No light shone down from the heavens, but Evander didn’t need any miracle.

His faith was not so fragile that it could be shaken by his uncertainties; it never had been. He closed his eyes. He accepted his emotions, not as sins that needed to be forgiven, but as reminders.

”Then I shall reflect. I shall refine myself. I shall grow not to compete with them… but to uphold Your justice more perfectly.”

He did not notice it, but there was a tiny light that seemed to embrace him. He rose to his feet slowly, his posture composed once more, his mind quieter.

There was no bitterness in his heart. No jealousy, only resolve. He was going to become a better knight who could uphold the Justice the Goddess he served stood for. He placed a hand over his chest, a gesture of prayer and promise.

”I will become someone worthy of my title.”

With that, he left the temple in silence, stepping into the moonlit courtyard—his shadow long, but his resolve unwavering.

***

In another area of Caelhart, Lysette Crowlorne was sitting in front of her desk in her room. The mana lamp illuminated her desk.

She was looking at the documents she had written about Lucen Thornehart. Among all the documents she had, Lucen was the one she had revised numerous times now.

She was a little confused right now. She was unsure when it started, but now every time she thought of Lucen, she could feel her heart racing.

She was already very interested in him, long before he changed, when he was still that young boy whom everyone thought was talentless.

The effort he put in back then was something no one his age would have done. He was already interesting back then, but when he reappeared in front of her sight in the underground arena, he became even more interesting.

It didn’t just stop there; every time he sees him, the changes he produces were significant. From the weapons he made in secret to the toys he shared with the children.

He wrote the most compelling play in all of Norvaegard, and he had become a powerful fighter beyond any of his generation.

Lysette wanted to know more, much more. The interest he had in knowing about others paled in comparison to her interest in Lucen Thornehart.

What was he really? Sometimes he was a shrewd businessman, other times he was an inventor, and so much more. She knew that everyone had a mask to wear, and the mask they showed others was different depending on who they were facing, but Lucen seemed to have so many masks, yet at the same time, he had none.

He was someone who looked like he had many masks to wear, but every time Lysette saw him, it felt like he was just being his genuine self.

This confusion, this duality, frustrated and excited Lysette. She could not truly comprehend what Lucen was to her at the moment, but she understood that to her, Lucen was someone who took most of her attention.

”I wonder, in tomorrow’s match, will you, as always, be able to take victory into your hands?” Lysette mumbled to herself. ”Yeah... I can’t imagine you ever losing. That confident, cocky grin of yours, that seems so sure that everything is going as planned. The only way I can see you losing is if you allowed yourself to lose, if you planned to lose.”

Lysette froze for a second as her hand trembled. It was an unfamiliar loss of control, a detail she noticed and instantly frowned at.

’My mind seemed to be a mess. It’s hard to concentrate on other things. Why do I keep on thinking about him, like this? Am I so interested in him that I see nothing else but him?’

She leaned back in her chair, folding her arms. She stood up and walked toward her window, pushing it open.

Cold night air brushed against her cheeks. The moon hung high above the city, the same moon that watched Elyra train, the same moon that illuminated Mireya’s meditation and Evander’s prayer.

Lysette rested her elbows on the windowsill. A gust of cold wind swept into her room. Lysette shivered, but she didn’t close the window. Her eyes, sharp and analytical by nature, softened as she whispered.

”... You’re infuriating. Making me think about you so much.”

Lysette closed the window and returned to her desk. She stared at Lucen’s name scribbled across page after page, neat lines, organized research, detailed observations. She hovered her hand over the stack.

The answer to all her questions was already in the back of her mind; it was hazy, but it was there.

”... I wonder, what kind of surprises will you show me tomorrow?”

Lysette’s fingers brushed the topmost sheet, tracing Lucen’s name as if confirming it was real. Her chest tightened, not painfully, just strangely. She let out a soft breath, unable to suppress the small, conflicted smile tugging at her lips.

”Tomorrow... show me something new again,” she whispered. ”You always do.”

She extinguished the mana lamp. Only moonlight remained, washing her room in silver calm, while her heart, rebellious and warm, refused to quiet.