In the third round of the competition, Luciel found himself facing a familiar opponent—Taylor. The last time they met was at the Swordsmanship Association, where Luciel had left Taylor in complete shock. Now, fate had brought them together again, this time standing as rivals on the same battlefield.
Had Luciel not emerged, Taylor would have been the one to challenge Lawrence for the title of Chief Student. Unfortunately for him, Luciel's brilliance shone too brightly—so dazzling, in fact, that even Lawrence's presence was nearly eclipsed, leaving Taylor in complete obscurity. No one even considered comparing Taylor to the other two anymore.
Taylor stared at Luciel with a complex mixture of emotions—bitterness, envy, and motivation. Their last encounter had pushed him into action. After returning from the Swordsmanship Association, Taylor threw himself into rigorous training, and with the aid of several fortuitous circumstances, he had broken through to become a sixth-level apprentice knight.
He had returned full of confidence, thinking he was ready to make his mark. But just as he was preparing for the tournament, news reached him: Luciel had defeated an eighth-level apprentice knight. It felt like a powerful punch had deflated all his confidence.
"I don't believe you're that strong!" Taylor snarled.
"I'd rather believe Flower was careless and underestimated you," he added with clenched teeth.
Luciel glanced at him with calm indifference. "You're welcome to try."
"You arrogant—!"
With a cry, Taylor charged, both hands gripping his sword, aiming a fierce strike at Luciel.
But Luciel didn't flinch. He raised his sword and calmly swung.
Boom!
The clash sent Taylor flying backwards, as if he'd been rammed by a charging carriage. His body crashed to the ground, groaning in pain.
"What?!" gasped the spectators, eyes wide with disbelief.
"Taylor… lost in one strike?!"
"Luciel's strength is terrifying. That wasn't just skill—that was overwhelming power."
"I heard that when Luciel fought Flower, he had just finished extreme physical training. Some said he was only at a third of his peak strength then. I didn't believe it… but now, I kind of do."
Offstage, Lawrence stood silently, his tall figure cutting an imposing silhouette. His eyes narrowed with focus.
Even he couldn't defeat Taylor that easily.
Luciel, it seemed, was stronger than anyone had expected.
There was no more doubt: the final showdown for the title of Chief Student would be Luciel versus Lawrence.
Excitement surged through the crowd. The noise swelled with anticipation as murmurs and cheers filled the air. All eyes were now on the stage, where the two stood, facing each other in silence.
Lawrence was like a hawk, eyes sharp and calculating. He was tall for his age, and the sword in his hands was not the standard long sword of most knights—it was a broadsword, nearly two palms wide, heavy and intimidating.
"No one in the third grade has ever made me feel this kind of pressure… or excitement," Lawrence said, raising the massive sword. The muscles in his arms bulged like solid stone.
Luciel replied calmly, "You'll soon experience the feeling of defeat."
Lawrence chuckled coldly. "Then I hope your sword is as sharp as the rumors say."
Before he even finished speaking, he sprang into action. The broadsword roared through the air, carried by sheer brute strength and speed—a lion lunging for the kill.
Even the audience felt the intense pressure of his attack from afar.
"This… this is Lawrence's real strength!" someone shouted.
"The last time I saw him wield that broadsword, he looked clumsy. But now? He's clearly reached the strength of a seventh-level apprentice knight."
"Incredible… in the third grade?!"
Most students in the third grade were still stuck at level three. Level four was considered excellent. Level five? Almost unheard of. And Lawrence had reached level seven. He was a monster even among older students.
Even Taylor, still reeling from his own defeat, turned pale. He realized then that even if Luciel didn't exist, he still wouldn't have stood a chance against Lawrence.
Everyone held their breath.
How would Luciel respond?
Luciel narrowed his eyes and, with elegance and ease, moved his sword.
A subtle parry—one fluid motion, one graceful shift.
Clang! Lawrence let out a grunt. The broadsword was knocked clean from his hands. In the next moment, Luciel's slender blade rested lightly on his shoulder.
"You lost," Luciel said quietly.
Lawrence stood frozen, eyes blank, unable to process what had just happened.
The crowd was silent. Stunned.
That was it? Over already?
The final match they had all anticipated—between two prodigies—was over in a single strike?
It felt like a dream.
Off to the side, a group of instructors stood watching. One of them couldn't help but marvel.
"Julian, your student is truly something else."
"Such grace and efficiency… It might look simple, but that move was terrifying in its precision. If I'm not mistaken, Luciel is using court swordsmanship."
"Court swordsmanship? Against a broadsword? That's like using an embroidery needle to block an iron rod! It should've been a joke… but Luciel pulled it off flawlessly."
Another instructor's eyes lit up. "To execute that, his swordsmanship must be at least two levels above Lawrence's. They say he's reached the realm where heavy strikes seem weightless. Now I believe it."
Julian, Luciel's mentor, looked conflicted—pride mixing with awe.
"He actually broke into the third stage of swordsmanship two months ago," he revealed. "Right under my supervision."
"What? Two months ago?!" The instructors were astonished.
Another teacher, Fielding, stepped forward. "I taught him a set of fancy swordsmanship just once. He memorized the whole sequence immediately and mastered it in days. What he used today wasn't pure court swordsmanship—it was something more, something of his own making. Stronger. Sharper."
Everyone was speechless.
"A monster. A complete and utter monster," one instructor whispered.
"No, not a child anymore," said another. "With this strength, he's easily at the level of an eighth-level apprentice knight."
One of the tutors turned to Julian with a sly smile. "Julian… aren't you being selfish keeping this talent in Orlando?"
"What do you mean?" he asked, though he already knew.
The others' eyes widened as realization dawned.
Julian's expression turned serious. "Yes… I've already made plans. With Luciel's talent, he deserves a recommendation to the Royal Knights Academy."