"Do you recognize anyone in this group?" one student asked another seated beside him in the stands.

The second student glanced toward the arena, then shook his head. "No, I don't."

With a sigh, a third student leaned forward and muttered, "I wish I'd picked number two…"

"Me too," the first student agreed, a flicker of regret flashing in his eyes.

Elric, overhearing the murmured exchange, couldn't help but chuckle silently. You were afraid of Ryan… but not of Neve? So brave.

Tuning out the chatter, he turned his attention to Neve, who had just begun walking toward a student standing a dozen meters away.

At least fight only those who come to you, Elric thought, exasperated.

Back on the stage, Neve advanced toward a young woman who had just drawn her sword, her eyes fixed warily on Neve.

Without a word, Neve calmly unsheathed her rapier. When only four meters remained between them, she burst forward—and in the blink of an eye, a small puncture opened on the woman's right thigh.

The strike was so swift, the woman didn't even register pain—until she instinctively raised her sword. Taking a step forward, her injured leg gave out beneath her, and she stumbled.

Neve watched her closely, waiting to see if the woman would concede. But instead of surrendering, the student, caught off guard and shaken, made a desperate attempt to regain her balance.

Irritated by the woman's stubbornness, Neve frowned and drove her boot into the student's already-wounded thigh. This time, it wasn't just a stumble—her entire leg buckled as she was sent tumbling several meters across the stage, crashing to the ground. Her sword clattered from her hand, landing a meter away.

"Do I have to keep going, or was that enough?" Neve asked coolly, looking down at the student sprawled at her feet.

Their eyes met. The student coughed, clutching her thigh, torn between the urge to retaliate and the desire to flee the stage entirely. With a trembling voice, she finally said, "I-It was enough. I admit defeat."

Without sparing the defeated girl another glance, Neve turned and walked away, already heading toward her next target.

Among the spectators, only a few had witnessed the brief encounter—most were distracted by the chaos unfolding across the stage. With no dominant powerhouse asserting control, the battlefield had devolved into a frantic mess of students lunging at one another, shouts and clashes echoing from all sides.

But those who had kept their eyes on Neve felt a jolt of excitement—perhaps they had just spotted another dark horse rising through the ranks.

"Did you see that girl?" a man asked aloud, not directing the question to anyone in particular.

"Yeah. Judging by how easily she took that other girl down, she's probably making it through this round."

"Hmm. Still too early to tell."

"Do you think she's as strong as the guy from the first round?"

"Pfft, are you delusional?"

The spectators who had witnessed Neve's display quickly split into two camps: those convinced she was as powerful as the man from the previous round, and those who believed she still fell short.

While they argued, oblivious to it, Neve turned her head away from her next target, having caught movement behind her.

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Two young men, swords drawn, were approaching at a light jog, clearly trying to stay quiet. Their stealth, however, was far from subtle.

Neve arched an eyebrow, then calmly turned and began walking toward them.

Surprised by her reaction, the two hesitated, exchanging uncertain glances. That hesitation quickly hardened into resolve as they nodded to each other and squared up to face her.

One of them, a man with short blond hair, raised his voice. "We're two against one. Surrender now!"

The other man tensed, every muscle coiled, his full attention locked on Neve as he waited for her reaction.

But Neve didn't even acknowledge the threat. Instead, she accelerated—so fast that, to the two men, she became little more than a blur.

Startled, they halted and instinctively stepped closer, standing shoulder to shoulder—just far enough apart to swing their swords freely, yet close enough to support each other if needed.

What they hadn't accounted for was Neve's speed.

"Jason, in front of you!" shouted the blond-haired man, eyes widening as he caught a fleeting glimpse of Neve's barely visible form hurtling toward his friend.

Jason snapped his head forward, but saw only a vague flicker. Trusting his friend's warning, he brought his sword down with all his strength—yet what happened next felt like something torn from the fabric of a dream.

Neve sidestepped the descending blade with effortless precision. As it arced past her, she calmly raised her left hand and tapped the flat of the sword.

The touch seemed light, almost dismissive—but it carried, at least, half her strength. The impact ripped the weapon from Jason's grip, breaking several of his fingers. The sword flew to his right, spinning through the air before burying itself in his partner's waist.

A sharp scream tore from the man's mouth, but it was quickly swallowed by the cacophony of other cries and the roar of the spectators.

Neve, unfazed, turned her attention back to Jason. Sensing he wouldn't surrender over a few broken fingers, she drove her rapier into his right thigh. Another scream erupted as Jason staggered but remained standing, glaring at her.

"Was that really necessary?" he spat through gritted teeth.

"Do you surrender?" Neve asked flatly, ignoring the question as she raised her blade again, ready to strike.

Trembling, Jason shouted, "I SURRENDER"

Satisfied, Neve turned away and calmly approached the other man—still writhing in pain, his eyes locked in horror on the sword lodged in his waist. The sight alone seemed enough to push him toward unconsciousness.

Hearing footsteps, he forced himself to look up—and saw Neve. Or rather, the demon, as she now appeared in his eyes. Her cold, unblinking gaze fell on him.

He had heard his friend's surrender clearly. He knew exactly what she was waiting for.

Biting his lip to stifle another scream, he forced out the words through shallow, ragged breaths: "I-I s-surr-ender…"

Neve gave a small nod. Then, just as she turned to leave, she said over her shoulder, "The sword didn't pierce any organs. Don't worry."

The blond-haired man stared after her in silence, her words echoing in his head. He wasn't sure what he felt—relief, fear, humiliation. All he could manage was a shaky sigh.

From the participant stands, Elric watched the entire exchange. By the end, his lips were twitching so violently he feared he might've cracked something in his face.

Closing his eyes, he murmured to himself, "Please don't kill anyone," over and over, the words slipping out like a mantra.

It was as though Neve had heard his quiet plea. From that moment on, she fought with more restraint, breaking only a few bones of the unlucky students who dared to challenge her.

Before long, a staff member strode onto the stage, his voice booming over the chaos.

"Round two is over!"

His gaze swept across the last five standing participants. "Please follow me to report your names."

Hearing those words, Elric exhaled in relief, as if a heavy weight had finally lifted from his shoulders.

I need to talk to her again, he thought, his mind already racing ahead.

Elric stopped paying attention to the stage, even as they announced the start of round three. His focus was entirely on Neve, waiting for her to return.

Meanwhile, in the grandstand, Jonathan turned to Victor, a curious gleam in his eyes.

"Do you know who she is?"

Victor spared him a brief side glance. "One of Nova's people."

Jonathan's expression shifted to one of seriousness. "Do you think she's stronger than Thomas?"

Victor didn't answer right away. With a cool, almost dismissive tone, he replied, "Just keep watching."

Jonathan, unsure whether to laugh or be frustrated, simply nodded and turned his attention back to the stage.

Back in the stands, the remaining participants watched as the five winners from the last round returned, having reported their names and academies.

Thomas, standing off to the side, observed the group quietly. When his eyes landed on Neve re-entering the stands, he muttered with a smirk, "Ha! Samuel thought this was a waste of time, but look! There's someone pretty strong here."

A smile spread across his face as he tilted his head upward, staring into the sky, his thoughts drifting.

Elric, seeing Neve take her usual seat next to him, couldn't hold back any longer. He turned to her and asked, his voice tinged with frustration, "Are you trying to kill people here?"

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