At the Dark Stadium…

With the sun climbing above the horizon, the spectators roared at the appearance of their queen, Seraphim D'Angelo.

The crowd had seen both her brutal side and her calm, kind demeanor in her fight with the Persistent Mantis. Since then, she'd fought again, winning without much effort.

Spectators flocked to see her, drawn by the promise of witnessing a legend in the making.

Victory here would put Seraph just two fights away from claiming the title of strongest Knight since Kysa's disappearance.

However, something was different this time. After countless fights, Seraphim finally approached the podium with her sword.

This was bizarre.

Though her opponent was formidable, she'd refused to draw her blade even against Clara, the Persistent Mantis, one of the competition's strongest fighters.

The entire arena was bemused, even the announcer, but all were eager to see her fight. She was captivating, yes, but more than that, her fights made spectators feel fortunate to witness them.

Even so, while gamblers placed bets and cheerleaders cheered, the Child of Deceit didn't look as welcoming as usual.

Her hand rested on the hilt of her sword, gripping a magnificently carved wooden sculpture of herself tied to it. The hilt itself was peculiar. It lacked the traditional design, it looked more like a celestial force compressed into matter.

Seraphim's faded blue eyes never blinked. They were cold as ice, firmly fixated on her opponent.

The man's presence spoke of villainy. He wore a cocky smile, practically adopting a nonchalant pose as though Seraphim's presence amused him. His clothes suggested he came from the slums. Wherever his Purpose took him wasn't pleasant.

Before the fight could even begin, he spoke.

"Seraphim, hm? I knew your purpose the moment you walked in."

He wore a smirk.

"You're still chasing revenge? You've killed before, don't pretend otherwise. She had to die, so I killed her. I never thought you'd drag this grudge so far, but fine. You couldn't beat me back then. You won't beat me now."

Normally, when people deliver such long speeches, they look serious right after. But this inflexible man? He surely believed he had already won.

Even so, the Child of Deceit hardly showed any emotion. She breathed heavily, her eyes unwavering, her grip tightening on the sculpture.

"I will avenge you, Shia."

She muttered, barely above a whisper.

Shia was Seraphim's first true friend in this world. She spoke to everyone and laughed with everyone, but in the little time she spent at the academy, Shia was the only person she could vent to.

However, their friendship didn't last long. The bastard before her, Dumpy, had killed her over what was supposed to be a friendly duel.

It was an unbearable sight for Seraph, watching the bastard stab her only friend over and over in the chest while everyone else watched, including the staff.

Her blood trickled everywhere.

The small splash that grazed her hand, carrying warmth and fear, revealed to Seraph her friend's fate.

She swore to avenge her—she believed that was what Shia would expect of her.

She'd tried back then but failed due to her lack of strength. But now it would all start with the person who took Shia's life, Dumpy. From him to the staff present, then to everyone who laughed or even smiled at that injustice.

While Seraphim reminisced about the past, about the solace unlike any other that Shia gave her, the announcer spoke up.

This time, the announcer knew better than to regard Seraph as just a pretty lady. He learned his lesson.

In an instant, Dumpy summoned his chains, whipping the metallic links through the air despite their sheer size. The force alone should have been enough to break the sound barrier.

Dumpy tried to explain what his chains could do, but Seraphim barely listened. Instead, she drew her own sword, and the crowd went silent.

The blade was long and straight-edged with a faintly glowing outline, as though reality itself struggled to contain the power within. It looked as though forged from the night sky, filled with pinprick stars scattered across the deep void of blue and purple.

The crowd looked stunned. Dumpy didn't look alright either.

This was only a piece of the Star Seeker, and even this was enough to draw anyone who hadn't seen it into a daze. The Star Seeker belonged to the strongest knight ever, Kysa. Before her disappearance, Seraph had traded her friend's life, Halo's life, for a piece of it.

Dumpy took a step backward, terrified, and the crowd began cheering once more, though the aura of the Star Seeker held them spellbound.

The announcer, however, looked as though his soul had left his body. He tried to form words, but only gibberish escaped him.

The real Star Seeker was approximately four feet tall. Its sword didn't cut like a typical sword; instead, it consumed everything it touched with a sharp intent.

Anything captured by the sword was trapped in the cosmos, transforming into a new star on the blade, enhancing its power.

At the Star Seeker's peak, the one Kysa wielded, it bypassed the barrier of logic and erased souls. Even at its weakest, it was strong enough to trap someone with cunning immortality like Fade of Bridle in a death state for decades.

This was a sword that whoever saw couldn't forget, despite how much it changed. And from the terror on the announcer's face, he'd faced the Star Seeker before.

After taking in the terror on Dumpy's face, breathing steadily as though she wasn't ready to end everything so easily, Seraphim took a deep breath and calmed her nerves.

In one swoop, she moved—a massive wind erupted. She closed the distance between them in barely a second.

The bastard's eyes flickered, his grip on his chains failing as he watched the Star Seeker come for his limbs. Paralyzed by fear, he couldn't move a muscle. He screamed at the top of his lungs, cursing as his limbs were severed without effort.

Blood splashed across Seraphim's face, even touching her faded eyeball, but she didn't even blink.

Dumpy begged for his life, but at this point, death was mercy. His legs and arms were gone. To survive in this world in such a state would be beyond miraculous.

This was Seraphim D'Angelo, her name spoke for itself. She was the most angel-like person Dumpy would ever meet.

Without letting the poor soul suffer any further, she ended it without flinching.

The crowd had seen worse than blood, actually, this was what they were there for. But the announcer was still horrified. He couldn't even announce Seraph's victory.

For the Child of Deceit, though, this was the beginning of the end for her. She was done with the tournament, and even if she wasn't, she'd be disqualified anyway. She was only a Sin Fragment away from being an Assassin again. That spot had been reserved for Dumpy.

There'd be more to come because Shia wasn't truly avenged. This was what Seraph lived for. She'd even left a dear friend to die for this very reason. And she'd do it again if she went back in time.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.