Waves crashed into each other in violent spasms, swallowing both warriors till their knees.
The catgirl, Selvara Stormveil, frowned a little.
'They are not dead yet.'
As if that mere fact drilled into her a confusing surprise.
Her blue-tinged glare snapped, meeting Ciel's black, round eyes.
From the start, the white-haired girl's calmness was unnatural, even more disciplined than hers.
And without any awareness, Ciel and Selvara had the same thought process.
'Not including us, the leaderboard still had fewer than ten examinees left.'
'The Nightfall is still here. If the battle lingers for too long, we would be too weakened or distracted to deal with the attracted examinees and shadebeasts.'
They readied themselves.
'So we must end this. Quickly.'
And the only one that didn't match their line of thinking-
"Stripey. Paw!"
Acted first by leaping onto Selvara, noticing her gaze seemingly distracted.
Paw summoned and lashed out in an arc, knowing Selvara's speed was now neutralised.
Both hands gripped as Selvara blocked the strike, her legs almost collapsing under its weight, combined with the violent stream beneath her.
Quia didn't waste the opening. Her fist launched and crushed into Selvara's stomach, eliciting the first gasp as her grip let loose.
The paw, despite its initial momentum loss, slipped through the weakened guard as it crashed into Selvara's head, sending her tumbling.
Waves of water screeched the roll to a halt. Yet as Selvara's sword stabbed stubbornly into the seabed to recover-
A blue ray blasts into her from the left. Selvara's hand jumped. Blue mana scattered away as she winced, her left palm tarred a deeper black.
'A strange feeling.'
Ciel let down her pulsing staff as she stared at Selvara, confused.
The catgirl's pupils moved, scanning every detail from the elf's wind-shrouded sprint, as if to evaluate something.
And as those pupils darted to Ciel herself, they narrowed in understanding.
'...heh…'
Ciel hummed inside. Selvara had just evaluated and figured out her weakness.
But that strange feeling didn't dissipate.
And then Selvara, with her scorched thumb, pressed into her pummeled nose as it spat out a patch of blood.
It melted like ink as it dropped in the water, before the ruthless tides wiped it away.
'That white-haired shortie. She couldn't aim at a moving target.'
That was Selvara's first evaluation.
'Or else, based on her efficiency, adaptability, and quick decision making, she would lend relentless supporting fires when luring me till here. Even now, when the elf was attacked-'
"Hey."
A left hook descended as Selvara cupped the wrist without looking.
"Don't look at my Ciel that way, pervert."
A kick sent her away. Selvara weaved through the flurries of left hooks and kicks.
Her knees shifted and buckled between the dodges, adjusting to the river current. The elf's useless right arm made every move clumsy, each strike more telegraphed than the last.
To Selvara, at least. She could tell a regular examinee would die in a few blows by the elf, one if they couldn't track the elf's speed as she could.
She glanced at Ciel, whose staff flickered with hesitation, now that the elf was so close to her.
Unlike the attempt with the mimic, Selvara mixed in faints and dodges, turning the exchange unpredictable, making any clean shot much more difficult.
'Ciel, was it?' She concluded the thought before a breeze wheezed into her ear, its source from a summoned tiger paw thrusting forward.
Selvara cast one more glance at the elf's wind shroud. A simple duck, then she swung her blade beneath the paw.
Mana flickered, then-
An explosion echoed. A curtain of water ruptured where Quia and Selvara were, blocking Ciel's vision temporarily.
And as the curtain fell and splashed back into the river's torrent, it revealed Quia's palm clenching onto the tip of the blade.
The water explosion nearly obscured the strike, a technique intentionally released by Selvara at the right time.
Ripples cackled beneath the duo's sparring, the first change for Selvara in a strange, new state.
'...'
A flicker of surprise, however subtle, bloomed on Ciel's expression.
A blue, volatile aura now shrouded and caressed Selvara's wet suit. Her dripping black hair flew, a new kind of strength unleashed.
The waves that reached her knees, always merciless, now dodged around the trousers as if held back.
Ciel's eyes keenly observed. The blue aura was thrashing away the water, not unlike the elf's wind shroud.
'Did she… no.'
Ciel could tell it was far from a clumsy imitation.
The elf leapt back. Cold sweat trickled on her forehead, and a thin red line now adorned her palm.
"...hm."
For the first time, Selvara let out a regretful groan.
"The cut was too shallow."
A blade swing needed proper positioning, momentum and posture. Using this new technique threw her balance off more than expected.
Yet now with enough room above her feet, the catgirl took up an experienced stance.
Both her grips clung to the katana's grip as the blade rose skyward and glared at Quia, a standard form of posture.
Both Ciel and Quia took this time to realise Selvara's new technique.
'Mana armament.'
Quia's wind shroud, noted by Ciel, was a shallow imitation of a technique used by Tenebera IV or above.
Air bred mana. So Quia simply allowed her blood veins to release a continuous flow of wind mana gathered by breathing, disguised as a simple wind shroud that offered no protection.
But if Quia's was a shallow imitation, Selvara's was much, much more refined, which strengthened the skin like a fabric of iron.
'...ridiculous.'
Quia's face could almost fall away with the shock.
'Based on how the aura is fluctuating, this was the first time she did it.'
But even veterans in High Tenebra IV usually took ages to master this technique.
And to imitate an 'imitation' in one try, even improving it, was beyond genius from Selvara Stormveil.
Though Ciel remained unimpressed.
Believe it or not, she had witnessed more ridiculously talented people from the Stormveil in her years.
Some of whom, unbelievably, learnt Mana Armament unconsciously when they were an infant.
Equally dead silent, Selvara merely stood, watching.
Then, as if made up her mind, she let slip a faint sigh.
She bent her knees, unsheathing her sword.
"Let this be my last."
Her low voice was a vague, silent warning imbued with finality.
As her eyes caught a violet, sudden lightning.