Lucifer swung his sword down with deliberate precision, the blade's edge barely grazing the ground before coming to a halt. Multi-elemental astral energy cascaded from its surface in spiraling waves, a symphony of light and shadow painting the training ground in ethereal hues.
Sweat beaded on his brow, tracing a line down his cheek before vanishing into his collar. He closed his verdant eyes, his breathing steady but laced with strain.
In an instant, he activated his twin Gifts.
Yin-Yang Body, the pinnacle of martial prowess, awakened his entire being to the flow of astral energy, pushing his physical and magical capabilities to their utmost limits. God's Eyes, a peerless ocular ability, allowed him to dissect the fabric of reality itself, perceiving mana and its currents with a clarity that bordered on omniscience. Together, these Gifts worked in perfect synchrony, a dance of power and intellect.
His Sword Heart pulsed in his chest, its rhythm guiding the astral energy outward. He focused, spreading the energy in deliberate waves, attempting to encapsulate the entire training ground. The threads of astral energy stretched and intertwined, diffusing into the air like an intricate web of light and power. For a moment, the space seemed to hum, a faint vibration echoing his intentions.
Then, the connection faltered. The threads unraveled, the energy dissipating like mist caught in sunlight.
Lucifer exhaled sharply, his eyes snapping open. A frown etched itself onto his face as he let the tip of his sword rest against the ground.
"Still not possible," he muttered under his breath, frustration threading his voice.
He had been trying to expand his Sword Heart into a Domain, a feat only achievable by Immortal-rankers and beyond. Domains were the ultimate manifestation of control, allowing their wielders to twist the very axis of space-time, bending reality to their will. To even attempt such a thing at his current level—approaching high Ascendant-rank but still not there—was nothing short of madness.
Yet, with his Gifts, he believed he could cheat the natural order. Yin-Yang Body amplified his physical and magical synchronization, while God's Eyes offered an unparalleled understanding of the mechanics involved. Together, they were a bridge between what was and what could be.
But even that wasn't enough.
The thought gnawed at him, a relentless itch just out of reach. He clenched his fists, his sword trembling faintly in his grip. 'An Immortal-ranker can twist the axis of space-time effortlessly with a Domain. A Radiant-ranker does it by existing.' And here he was, grasping at shadows.
He inhaled deeply, forcing himself to calm. His Gifts flared again, drawing his focus inward. He felt the heartbeat of his Sword Heart, steady and persistent. He wasn't weak. Far from it. But the gap between his ambitions and his reality loomed vast.
"I just need a higher mana rank," he murmured to himself, almost as if the act of speaking aloud would summon the strength he sought.
It always came back to Arthur.
Arthur Nightingale, the specter that haunted his every moment of growth. The one rival who had torn down every illusion of invincibility Lucifer once held. That smile—calm, unyielding, and maddeningly self-assured—taunted him even now. Lucifer had surpassed everyone else in his age group, but Arthur remained a wall he couldn't scale.
'Because if this works,' Lucifer thought, his grip tightening on his sword, 'he'll finally have to go all out against me.'
And when that happened, Lucifer would be ready. He would demand the respect he deserved, not as the shadow to Arthur's brilliance, but as an equal. As someone who could challenge him, push him, and perhaps, finally, surpass him.
The training ground fell silent once more, the air heavy with unresolved ambition. Lucifer straightened, his gaze hardening as he planted his sword firmly into the earth. The path ahead was steep, but he wouldn't falter.
Not when the summit awaited.
Lucifer dragged his sword behind him as he left the training grounds, each step echoing softly in the stillness of the evening. His muscles burned with the familiar ache of overexertion, but his mind was alight, running over every movement, every failure, and every fleeting success.
The holographic displays lining the sleek, high-tech halls of Mythos Academy flickered to life as he passed, casting an ethereal glow over the polished floors. Animated banners for the Fall Ball danced across the screens, their colors vibrant and celebratory. The event loomed large, promising an evening of spectacle and connection, a rare chance for the academy's elite to mingle outside the constraints of training and duty.
Lucifer barely spared them a glance.
'The Fall Ball,' he mused. The thought brushed past him like a fleeting wind. Once, the prospect of attending with Rachel would have set his heart racing. But that chapter had long since closed. He no longer harbored romantic feelings for her—not when her path was so clearly intertwined with Arthur's.
Still, the Ball posed a peculiar dilemma. He had no one he felt close enough to ask, even as a friend. His connections were built on respect, competition, or necessity. And relationships born of such cold practicality didn't lend themselves to lighthearted events like this.
As he turned a corner, his steps slowed. Standing beneath a starlit sky, framed by the shimmering glow of the academy's advanced illumination, was Seol-ah Moyong. A martial manual rested loosely in her hand, her gaze tilted toward the heavens as though she were reading constellations instead of stars.
Her silhouette was serene, almost untouchable. Yet Lucifer couldn't ignore the irony: she was someone chasing his back just as he chased Arthur's. A mirror to his struggle.
'She's good,' he thought. Sparring with her often felt like looking into a polished reflection of his own swordsmanship. Where Ren's style was chaotic and unpredictable, Seol-ah's precision forced him to confront the gaps in his technique. She honed the cracks that Arthur exploited mercilessly, but her brilliance stopped just short of Arthur's overwhelming light. For now.
Lucifer's lips pressed into a line. His instincts urged him to move on, to keep walking and leave the awkwardness behind. But something stopped him. Perhaps it was the glint of resolve in her golden eyes, or maybe the memory of how often he hesitated in the past.
'Ponder, ponder, always pondering.' The words echoed in his mind, biting and cruel. How many times had he agonized over Rachel, strategizing, waiting, only to let her drift away?
It wasn't a mistake he wanted to repeat.
He straightened his posture, his hand brushing back a stray lock of his hair. His steps carried him forward before he could second-guess himself, and for once, he embraced the momentum.
"Hey, Seol-ah," he called, his voice firm but lacking its usual sharp edge.
She turned, her movements measured and graceful, as though even in rest she was aware of the balance her body needed to strike. Her onyx-black hair caught the faint light, and her golden eyes settled on him, unblinking and steady. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, waiting for him to speak.
For a moment, Lucifer's composure faltered. His heart thudded—not with longing, but with the strange clarity that often came before a duel. He knew, with sudden certainty, that he didn't feel anything romantic for her.
And that was okay.
"I—" His voice caught, but he pressed on, forcing himself not to overthink. "Will you go with me to the Fall Ball?"
The question hung in the air like a blade caught mid-swing. Seol-ah blinked, her gaze assessing him, as though weighing the offer's intent.
"To the Ball?" she echoed, her tone light, almost teasing.
"Yes." His voice steadied now, his words firm. "As a partner. Nothing more. I think it would... be a good experience for both of us."
She tilted her head, considering. Then, a faint smile curved her lips. "Lucifer Windward, asking me to a Ball. How peculiar."
"I'm full of surprises," he said dryly, though his lips twitched into the ghost of a smile.
For a long moment, she said nothing, her eyes searching his face. Whatever she saw there must have satisfied her, because she nodded once.
"Alright," she said simply. "I'll go."
Lucifer blinked, momentarily caught off guard by her acceptance. Then, he exhaled, the tension in his shoulders easing.
"Good," he replied, the faintest trace of relief in his voice. "I'll see you there."
Seol-ah turned back to the stars, her posture as calm as before, but Lucifer could have sworn he saw a flicker of amusement in her expression.
As he walked away, he felt lighter—not triumphant, not victorious, but as though he had taken one step forward on a path he didn't yet fully understand. For once, it felt like enough.