Below, the murmurs grew once more.. low but reverent. Girzar's words still lingered in the air like sacred scripture, each syllable finding its way into the hearts of the nobles present. The weight of what had just happened pressed softly over the arena, a shared silence filled with awe, pride, and the birth of quiet legends.

All eyes turned once more to the arena's heart, where Girzar, Miyu, and Eran stood... each locked within the rippling golden glow of something larger than victory.

Professor Girzar's gaze swept across the arena, the faint golden glow of his staff pulsing as the murmurs dwindled to silence. The echo of his earlier praise lingered, heavy and reverent, but his next words carried the crisp steel of authority.

"Now," he intoned, his deep voice and rolling across the dome, "the final judgment shall be made."

He turned slowly, deliberately... toward Eran.

The crowd followed his motion, breaths caught in quiet suspense.

Girzar's eyes narrowed slightly, his tone sharp as a blade.

"As I have always said… the weak barely stand within these walls. To rise, one must prove their potential."

Each word struck through the air like a chime of judgment.

"For the nobles, they remain fortified by blood, by pride, by discipline." He paused, his staff tapping once against the marble floor, echoing across the arena.

"But for the commoners…" His gaze fell upon Eran, the weight of it enough to still even the boldest voice in the stands.

"They are stripped... unless they find a reason to defy the place given to them."

The silence deepened, heavy with meaning.

Then Girzar's tone softened.. barely. His expression shifted, not quite approval, but acknowledgment.

"However…"

He turned slightly, one arm extending toward Miyu, who still stood poised, unwavering, her violet aura dimming behind her.

"Count yourself among those touched by grace," Girzar declared. "For this—" his hand gestured to Miyu, "—is true nobility. And her grace has granted you luck, a shield of favor within the hierarchy itself."

A faint ripple spread through the crowd.. half envy, half astonishment.

Girzar continued, his tone rising again with solemn command.

"But do not misunderstand," he warned, his gaze cutting back toward Eran like a strike. "Weakness has no place in this academy. Consider this mercy a single breath of chance.. use it well."

He stepped forward, staff raised high, his final words ringing with authority.

He stepped forward, raising his staff high, as his final words rang with authority.

"With this declaration, I mark the end of the duel."

The rod struck the arena floor with a thunderous clang. A pulse of mana rippled outward—final, absolute.

For a long moment, no one spoke. The crowd sat in still awe, the echoes fading into silence.

Miyu lowered her head slightly, her expression calm, composed... a perfect noble façade. Yet when her eyes flicked toward Eran, a quiet understanding passed again between them, unseen by all but those who knew where to look.

Eran bowed slightly—not to Girzar, but toward Miyu.

A silent acknowledgment.

And a promise meant to fool the crowd.

Professor Girzar lifted his right hand, the golden band around his wrist shimmering faintly. At the motion, the obsidian crest above the arena shimmered to life once more, runes flaring bright across its surface.

The murmurs stilled.

Two names glowed brightly within the black crystal light ...

'Winner'

Miyu Valerane

Eran Vale

Gasps rippled through the audience.

With a subtle snap of his fingers, Girzar released a single pulse of mana. The crest flared, then dissolved into thin air, vanishing in a soft shimmer of gold dust that drifted down like fading embers.

"And with this," Girzar intoned, his voice deep and final, "we come to the conclusion of this duel."

He paused, his gaze sweeping across the crowd of nobles and commoners alike, measuring the silent awe that still lingered.

"Every student who participated in the dueling evaluation," he continued, "is hereby instructed to report to the Disciplinary Committee Headquarters upon the release of the final text results—no later than a week from now. Further announcements will be made at the Grand Hall."

The hum of mana died down.

Slowly, Girzar lowered his staff, and the crowd began to stir.. first with whispers, then the rising murmur of conversation spreading like a wave through the stands.

"Did he really just… name them both?"

"Impossible, how could a commoner's name appear beside hers?"

"Professor Girzar himself sanctioned it… it must be real."

The murmuring grew, overlapping in wonder and disbelief, before the enforcers began motioning for dispersal.

One by one, the nobles rose from their seats, robes rustling, the faint scent of mana and incense still heavy in the air. Laughter and low chatter filled the corridors as they exited in clusters, their voices echoing long after they had turned from the arena.

From the judges' table above, quills stilled. Each parchment now held its final seal.

Selene rose gracefully, the hem of her silver robe trailing faintly behind her. Her eyes drifted back toward the arena, and caught Eran's form once more. He stood silent at the far end, his posture calm, his golden eyes half-lowered in thought.

For a moment, her lips softened into a quiet, knowing smile.. a breath of relief. He's still standing.

Beside her, Nyssa gathered her parchments with elegant precision. Her presence was all noble composure and charm, but her gaze too strayed toward the pair on the stage.

Miyu and Eran.

The noble and the commoner.

A faint smirk touched her lips. "Remarkable," she murmured softly, just enough for Selene to hear. "For all that fire in her, Miyu Valerane carries herself like the purest of bloodlines… and that boy, he's not as simple as he looks."

Selene turned slightly, her expression calm but distant. "No," she whispered, "he isn't."

Nyssa's eyes lingered once more, her tone low and approving. "She's matured… far beyond a Grade D noble. I'd wager she'll soon ascend to Grade C without hesitation."

Selene gave a faint nod, exhaling softly, "True… she's come farther than I imagined."

Together they turned away, their robes catching the light as they departed the high table.

Below, the crowd thinned.. yet even as the arena emptied, the murmurs of the day clung to the air. Every whisper carried the same question, the same disbelief, the same awe:

"Miyu Valerane and Eran Vale… how?"

And somewhere in that fading noise, as the light dimmed above the grand dome, Eran lifted his gaze once more toward the disappearing judges.. toward Selene, toward Miyu.. and the faintest smile crossed his face.

Miyu's gaze lingered on Eran for a long moment, as though drawn toward him despite herself. There was a flicker of remorse in her eyes, a quiet apology for the bruises she'd left behind.

Eran met her stare, his own expression steady, calm. Beneath the exhaustion, there was warmth.. an unspoken reassurance that he bore no grudge. The air between them hummed before she straightened her shoulders, the edge of a smirk curling her lips as she turned and walked off into the dispersing crowd.

Eran's smirk deepened slightly. A quiet sigh escaped him, a blend of relief and satisfaction. Everything had gone beyond what he expected, the duel, the reaction, even Miyu herself. She's more than I thought, he mused. More than the academy sees. A queen in her own right.

Still bleeding from the shallow cuts on his arm, Eran walked through the inner corridor, the fading murmurs of the arena echoing behind him. The cool air brushed his skin, carrying the faint scent of iron. Then, from the corner ahead, two familiar figures appeared, Selene and Nyssa.

He stopped, almost in disbelief. "Professor Selene," he said, straightening instinctively. His gaze shifted to Nyssa beside her; her smile was calm, unreadable, yet warm.

Selene's lips curved in amusement. "I must admit," she said softly, stepping closer, "I didn't expect you to stand against Miyu in the first place. She's... far beyond most in her rank." Her eyes traced the blood on his sleeve. "You're badly injured, Eran."

He only gave a smirk and Sighed, "I noticed."

Selene arched a brow but said nothing more. Instead, she rested a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Nyssa will take care of it... Heal your bruises. I'll leave you in her hands while I report to headquarters—our transcripts and the judges' evaluations need to be filed immediately."

With that, she turned, her robes whispered as she walked down the corridor, leaving Eran alone beneath Nyssa's quiet gaze.

As Selene's presence faded down the corridor, silence lingered like a soft echo. Nyssa's eyes remained fixed on Eran, the last traces of Selene's perfume dissolving into the air between them. Her gaze was calm, warm, and quietly unreadable... a reflection of composed strength.

"She's softer these days, isn't she? Your professor" Nyssa said at last, her lips curving. "Selene… she seems to care for her students more than she lets on."

Eran tilted his head slightly, with a quiet smirk forming on his lips. "Maybe," he replied, voice low. "Or maybe she just sees more than most."

A soft laugh escaped Nyssa, brief and musical. Her eyes lingered on him longer than before, as if searching for something beyond the surface. Then, her tone shifted—gentle but sure. "Come with me," she said. "You'll need proper healing before those wounds start scarring. My chambers are close by."

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