"Don't worry," Reiko said confidently. "We can handle this."

"Looks like it’s time to use IT" Karna said calmly.

Kenta brought his hands together, summoning a large water sphere and holding it steady with controlled precision. Karna stepped forward and infused the sphere with lightning, streaks of electricity crackling across its surface.

Tenko was stunned. "Did I just see lightning?! No way…" he muttered to himself.

Kenta fired the electrified water sphere at Eto. The sphere zipped through the foggy battlefield, trailing sparks of light. Eto countered with a huge fire blast from his staff. The two attacks collided, triggering a thunderous explosion. The resulting shockwave discharged electricity wildly through the mist.

Eto’s teammate was stunned. "No way! How can a Twilight wield the lost element?!"

From the treetop, Tenko explained. "There is no way a Twilight just used the lightning element. The Lightning Spirit stopped granting blessings centuries ago. Mastering lightning without its blessing takes decades of training and unmatched magical manipulation even for high ranking mages. There’s no way someone that young learned it."

Eto’s team was reeling.

"He must have the Lightning Spirit's blessing," one of Eto’s teammate said in disbelief.

"But that’s impossible!" another teammate blurted out.

"Relax," Eto said calmly. "Let’s concentrate on defeating them first. His lightning doesn't seem all that strong anyway."

"Even if it’s weak," the first teammate replied, "the fact that he can use it at all is something we can’t ignore."

Tenko’s teammate turned to him, curious. "Two of them using elemental magic is surprising enough. But a regular wielding lightning? That too a Twilight? That's unheard of."

Tenko watched from his perch, his expression grim. "Not just that. The earlier attack sent an electrical discharge, ionizing the mist." He leaned forward, eyes fixed on the field below. "If the Twilight uses more lightning now, it might amplify the effect. They aren't simply countering their opponents' fire. They're making every move strategically."

With a roar of frustration, Eto spun his staff, and a vortex of roaring flames erupted, hurtling toward Karna and Kenta.

"I guess it's time to stop holding back," Kenta said, a flicker of grim determination in his eyes. He thrust his hands forward, and a massive wall of churning water rose before them. As it surged, Karna thrust his palms toward it, and streaks of blinding blue-white lightning raced across its surface. The combined assault was a spectacle of raw power. It consumed Eto's fiery vortex in a deafening hiss, swallowing the flames whole. The wave then crashed into Eto and his team, the water acting as a conductor for a devastating electrical discharge. Their bodies seized, muscles locking as they were hit with a paralyzing shock, their cries choked by the sudden, overwhelming current.

As the steam cleared, Eto struggled to recover, his movements sluggish and shaky from the after-effects of the lightning.

From the treetops, Tenko's teammate watched in confusion. "Why are they simply infusing the lightning into those water spheres? The Twilight could just shoot some fast lightning strikes and defeat them!"

"Lightning's hard to control, even for a B-class wizard," Tenko replied, his voice low. "It's nearly impossible to direct it perfectly in a chaotic fight. If he used it recklessly, he might hit his own teammates."

Using the opening, Gyoda, seizing his chance for redemption, flanked Eto's team. He fired a concentrated magic beam, striking one of Eto's teammates and knocking them out of the test.

Another of Eto's teammates retaliated with "Shooting Stars," a homing magic attack shaped like starbursts. Gyoda, undeterred, quickly conjured a barrier that neutralized the attack.

Eto, despite being visibly shaken, made one last stand. "This is my final attack," he yelled, his voice strained. "I'm going to give it my all!" He launched a huge wave of fire with his staff.

Kenta's eyes narrowed as he saw the sheer size of the blaze. "If that hits us, we're done for." He immediately conjured a massive water wave, covering a large area, amplified once more by Karna's lightning. The attack surged forward, dousing the fire and crashing into Eto's team with a final, devastating blow. The lightning arced wildly, paralyzing them even further. They all fell to the ground, unconscious.

Tenko's teammate watched in awe. "That lightning… Even if he's holding back, it's terrifyingly effective."

Tenko's gaze was fixed on Kenta. "And that guy... he put out the enhanced fire? They're strong, especially when they're together. We need to separate them to win."

The field was silent, filled with residual steam and the faint sound of crackling electricity. Eto and his team lay incapacitated, their defeat a stark lesson in strategic cooperation.

Karna’s team collected the 5,000 points they came for. The golden coin dissolved, and their team total increased. Kenta walked toward the unconscious Eto, bent over, and pressed his own device against Eto’s. A soft chime rang out, and a small, translucent bar on his screen labeled "Steal" filled up.

The point transfer was immediate. “Three thousand points! Sweet!” Karna exclaimed.

Gyoda, who had picked up the Enhancer lying next to Eto, examined it with a gleam in his eye. “Oh! An Enhancer, huh? I’ll add it to my collection.” He grinned, his excitement overriding his earlier embarrassment. “I wonder how to use it during this test.”

“Not like an idiot, I hope,” Karna said dryly, a teasing smirk on his face.

“Oi, Karna! You want to get your butt kicked?” Gyoda shot back, his grin turning to a feigned scowl.

Karna stepped closer, his own grin widening. “Bring it on.”

Just as Gyoda prepared to lunge, Reiko intervened. She smacked them both on the back of the head with a sharp, resounding thwack, sending them sprawling to the ground. “Cut it out, you two,” she said, her voice a low, exasperated growl.

Fumiko chuckled softly at the familiar commotion.

With a bump already forming on his head, Gyoda stood up, brushed the dust from his clothes, and with a satisfied smile and a triumphant fist pump, he tied the Enhancer to his back, a satisfied smile on his face. This would make a fine addition to the collection he was building back home.

The team moved through the forest, their pace quick but silent as they hunted for more opponents. After a few minutes of quiet, Kenta broke the silence, his tone one of genuine curiosity.

"I’ve been meaning to ask you something, Fumiko," he said. "The five Lycians who put on a show in front of the arena, why did their attire look so different from yours?"

Fumiko’s hands fidgeted with the hem of her dress. "Well, I got mine custom-made to fit this continent's aesthetics so I wouldn't stand out. Looks like it wasn't enough, though." She glanced down at her simple blue-and-white dress, a flicker of disappointment in her eyes before she continued. "Their clothes are more than just suits; they're defensive, woven with enchanted fibers and reinforced. And more importantly, I can use magic. Based on their gear, I believe none of them can. They're completely reliant on their enchanted items to fight."

"I see," Kenta said, a thoughtful expression on his face. He scanned the dense trees around them. "Then I wonder how they're doing."

In the murky light filtering through the canopy, a new scene unfolded by the sluggish water of a canal. The five Lycian candidates, impeccably dressed in their form-fitting suits, strode through the dense forest as if they were taking a leisurely stroll through a city park.

George, in his Forest Green suit, and a bracelet with a green stone, took a dainty sip from a teacup he held in his gloved hand. The cup, a delicate piece of porcelain, seemed impossibly out of place. "I say, Albert," he began, his smooth, upper-class drone carrying an accent utterly foreign to this continent—an accent which, like that of his companions, was so gratingly mannered it could only be called insufferable. "Do clarify something for me. What, exactly, was all the fuss regarding the 'Twilight' people were discussing prior to our little excursion? You, being our resident scholar of this peculiar continent, must have the precise details."

Albert, in his navy suit and a bracelet with a dark blue stone, adjusted his cravat with a nonchalant air. "Of course, George." The 'Twilight,' as they call him, is a curious subject indeed. The term itself is a title of pity, bestowed upon members of the Ashijiki Clan who are born without the legendary Light Magic of their ancestors. Their clan, once revered, was declared a pariah tribe by the reigning nations. A veritable purge was attempted, but the then Head of the Magic Council interceded, creating a treaty that allowed the clan to exist only on the condition that any child born with their original magic, a Luminar, would be put to death."

Albert paused, his gaze coolly sweeping the shadows of the forest around them. "And a mere eight or nine years ago, the entire remaining clan was... wiped from the face of the earth. All except for the boy we saw today. He is, by all accounts, the last of his kind, a Twilight in truth. Some here refer to him as the Calamity Child."

Charles, in his white suit, a bracelet with a greyish-white stone, and a knight's sword at his waist, peered over the top of a book through his monocle. "The Calamity Child? A rather dramatic moniker, wouldn't you say? To what cause do they attribute this, pray tell?"

Albert continued, "Well, they believe his very birth was the reason for two wars that broke out in quick succession, wars in which the armies of three great nations were utterly decimated. And, in a rather ironic twist, the very Council Head who fought for the Ashijikis perished during the conflict."

Edward, in his maroon suit, a bracelet with a reddish-maroon stone, and a pair of pistols at his waist, spoke next. "But what does the Twilight have to do with these wars? That is simply barbarous logic."

Albert scoffed. "Nothing, of course. These people are backward savages who cling to their superstitious beliefs. They see him as a harbinger of doom, a bad omen. A truly pitiable state of affairs for the lad."

"That is outrageous," Henry said, his voice clipped and cold beneath his immaculate golden coat and a bracelet with a golden-brown stone.

"Indeed," Albert conceded. "It is precisely why I so loathe coming here. Our people, however, insist that we partake in this test to better understand their… culture."

"Poor Twilight," Edward sighed, his eyes scanning the treeline with chilling indifference. "I pity him. I pity him just as I pity the twenty souls who have surrounded us and are now lurking in the shadows."

George’s teacup remained perfectly steady. "How utterly underhanded. Four teams ganging up on a single one, a group that cannot even use magic, at that. It is simply ridiculous."

Charles turned the page of his book with a crisp flick of his thumb. His voice, crisp and imperious, echoed through the quiet forest. "You might as well come out now. I don't have all day, you see. I find I absorb the material at a much faster rate when my attention isn't... divided."

From the surrounding shadows and thickets, a wave of twenty mages emerged, their hands already crackling with mana.

A rugged-looking mage stepped forward, his eyes burning with resentment. "What gives you foreign fops the right to come to our home? You think you can just waltz in and take our spots?"

Another mage, a burly woman with a staff, added, "It's bad enough you don't use real magic, just your little glorified toys!"

"We've worked for years to get to this test, to earn our rank!" a third mage shouted, her voice thick with rage. "You're stealing our glory!"

Finally, a fourth mage, a leader in the group, stepped forward, his face contorted in disgust. "The very thought of it is filthy!"

Henry, in his pristine golden coat, adjusted his sleeves. "My, my. Look at your attire, all rugged and dusty. And you have the gall to call us filthy? The irony is quite lost on you, I believe."

Albert, his nonchalant air gone, spoke with a sharp edge. "Enough chit-chat. We're not here to sip tea with them."

George, who was, in fact, sipping his tea, offered a graceful tilt of his head. "I beg to differ, old sport."

Edward, stepping forward, made a simple gesture with his hand. "Enough with these charades. Let's begin."

The mage leader, seeing the Lycians' condescending attitude, roared with frustration. "The odds are four-to-one! They can't win! Attack!"

Twenty mages surged forward, each of them jumping toward their designated Lycian target from four different directions. Four men jumped towards George, each casting a spell as they lunged.

In one seamless, impossible motion, George tossed his teacup's scalding contents into the face of the man in front of him. With the same hand, he flicked the saucer to the mage on his left and spun the teacup to the mage on his right. His body was a blur of motion as he bent down, raised his leg, and delivered a powerful kick to the mage behind him.

The first man screamed as the hot liquid burned his face. The saucer and cup struck the other two mages on their temples, knocking them down instantly. The final mage in the back was sent sprawling by George's kick.

At the same time, two mages leaped at Charles from the front. With a calm sigh, Charles turned the book he was reading toward them. The greyish-white stone on his bracelet pulsed with a soft light. As the mages closed in, he closed the book with a resounding snap. The sound was deafening, a sharp clap of thunder that echoed through the trees. A concussive gust of wind erupted from the pages, sending both mages flying backward, their clothes whipping violently as they were slammed into the trees behind them.

The remaining mages froze in their tracks, their initial ferocity replaced by pure shock. They stared from the unconscious mages to the five pristine figures who had just incapacitated their teammates with such effortless, impossible speed.

"What just happened?" one of them stammered, his voice filled with disbelief. "They just sent our men flying like it was nothing! And with so little effort!"

"How are they so strong?" another mage whispered, his eyes wide with fear.

Albert adjusted his cravat, his nonchalant air having returned. "You see, we have been trained at the most esteemed institution in all of Lycia. Our dressing, our language, our knowledge, and our fighting skills are all meticulously polished and refined. And do remember, we are merely first-year students at the Lycian College of Advanced Artifice." He scoffed, looking at them with thinly veiled contempt. "If you are so bold as to call us strong, then you should truly be grateful you never see the fifth-year graduates. They would not even need to move a muscle to put down a hundred of you, not to mention the Elite Guards. Their very presence would simply be… fatal."