As Princess Elisabeth left the king’s chamber, she encountered Reinhard in the corridor.

Reinhard spoke first.
“During the incident yesterday… someone tried to chase after you when you were taken.”

Elisabeth stopped. “Who was it?”

Reinhard frowned slightly, recalling the moment. “I can’t say for certain. Everything happened too fast when I struck him down. But…” His gaze sharpened. “He was a blond-haired boy. Calm blue eyes.”

At those words, Elisabeth’s heart skipped.

Lukas.

A wave of worry rose within her chest. Reinhard was no ordinary mage—he was the best of the best. Anyone struck down by him should not have survived.

Yet she showed no sign of concern. Reinhard was watching her closely.

Without a word, she turned to leave.

“Princess,” Reinhard called out coldly. “If you ever place the crown in danger—if you bring harm or disgrace upon it—I will personally kill you myself.”

She stopped, her back still turned.

“You won’t have to,” Elisabeth replied quietly. “I’ll be leaving the royal family soon.”

And with that, she walked away.

The next day arrived—Day Two of the tournament.

Princess Elisabeth sat upon the podium, accompanied by the Commander of the Knights, her cousin Lancelot. Though a mage by title, his swordsmanship was flawless, and his mastery of anima was said to rival even the greatest warriors of the kingdom.

The host stepped forward, his voice booming across the arena.

“Welcome, everyone! Today’s matches will be even more thrilling than yesterday’s! We are honored to have Her Highness Princess Elisabeth and the Knight Commander Lancelot in attendance!”

The crowd roared in approval.

“And now,” the host continued, “let us announce the next match!”

“Lukas vs Aron!”

The scene shifted to the waiting area.

Marco clapped Lukas on the shoulder. “You’ve got this.”

Sofie smiled confidently. “Don’t lose.”

Lukas nodded, calm as ever.

Back in the arena, the host raised his hand.

“Aron’s magic—Fire!”

Cheers erupted.

Princess Elisabeth leaned forward unconsciously—and froze when she saw Lukas step onto the stage.

He’s alive…

Relief washed over her, quickly replaced by confusion. How had he survived Reinhard’s attack?

Then the host spoke again.

“Lukas’s magic—Light.”

Laughter spread through the stands.

“Give up and go home!”
“A support mage?”
“How did someone like him even qualify?”

Those who had been disqualified were especially furious.

Princess Elisabeth narrowed her eyes. Light magic… healing.
That must have been how he survived. Still—how reckless can you be, Lukas…

“Begin!”

Aron wasted no time.

“Fire Magic: Gigantic Fireball!”

A massive sphere of flame roared toward Lukas—but this fire was different. Blue in color, far hotter than Edward’s flames.

The air itself screamed.

Yet Lukas didn’t panic.

“Light Creation Magic: Light Sword.”

A blade of pure light formed in his grasp—long and radiant. It was not a fixed weapon, but one that could be reshaped at Lukas’s will, its length and form limited only by his control.

With a single, precise motion, Lukas swung.

The arena fell silent.

The host stared in disbelief.
The princess rose slightly from her seat.
Even Lancelot’s eyes widened.

Aron froze. “…What?”

“Was that offensive magic?!” the host shouted. “Who is this guy?!”

Those who had mocked Lukas earlier felt fear crawl up their spines.

Lukas pointed his blade forward.

“Now that you know I’m not just a support mage,” he said calmly, “fight me seriously.”

Aron clenched his fists… then smiled.

“…Alright.”

Mana surged from both of them as the air itself seemed to tighten.

Both fighters gathered their power.

The real battle had just begun.