In the chaos of the combat hall, amidst the tense clash of swords, Sonia suddenly heard a soft, melodic sigh.
And then, her vision split in two.
On one side, she saw the faces of her fellow students—mocking, expectant, envious—each an expression of the varied human condition.
On the other side, she saw a woman.
A woman who looked strikingly like her but wasn't her.
The woman stood on the surface of a moonlit lake. Suddenly, a massive horned beast surged from the distance, a tsunami of darkness charging with destructive force. Its shadow engulfed the moonlight, threatening to plunge the world into oblivion.
Compared to the creature, the woman was so small, so fragile.
And yet, she stood still. No hesitation.
She summoned her sword spirit, then—
One strike.
Darkness was cleaved in two. Moonlight poured through the beast's fissured body, illuminating the woman's elegant yet ferocious form.
Sonia couldn't quite see the woman's movements, nor could she discern the spirit she had summoned. Yet, inexplicably, Sonia felt she could replicate it.
The desire to mimic that strike burned within her. So strongly, in fact, that her body began to move on its own.
She's not putting down her sword?
Leoni, mid-flight, noticed Sonia's unwavering stance.
Internally, she awarded her opponent a high score. In battles where the outcome seemed inevitable, conceding was the rational choice. But it was only through stubborn defiance that miracles were born.
How could one develop the heart of a true swordsman without daring to challenge the strong, even in the safety of this controlled environment?
Trozan Sword Saint sure knows how to pick students, Leoni thought, though she had no intention of holding back.
Not for her pride, not for Trozan's reputation, but because to fight without giving her all would be the ultimate insult to her opponent.
Miracle: Rhythmic Melody — Third Movement!
As Leoni unleashed her next strike, she noticed something peculiar.
Sonia… was she sheathing her sword?
Around Sonia, threads of moonlight began to form. They connected to her body, creating what looked like a trap.
A trap? A self-sacrificial move?
Dozens of thoughts flashed through Leoni's mind, but her decision remained unchanged. The response to any uncertainty was always the same:
Cut through it with the sword.
Forward. Always forward.
This was the way of the swordsman.
The golden brilliance of her blade illuminated the hall once more, only to meet resistance the moment it touched the threads.
Leoni's eyes widened. Her miracle, Rhythmic Melody, couldn't cut through the threads.
No—it wasn't just moonlight.
Upon closer inspection, streams of water flowed along the threads, dissipating the force of her attack and giving the threads an unbreakable resilience.
But more than that, the energy from her strikes wasn't disappearing—it was being redirected.
The threads and Sonia formed a single interconnected system, like a coiled spring. Every strike Leoni delivered only strengthened the power waiting to rebound back at her.
Water currents. Moonlit threads. Wavesplitter Blade…
This was a counterattack miracle.
Clang!
Sonia's blade sliced through the air with speed so swift it left afterimages.
Leoni reappeared, her protective scales shimmering faintly, her hand empty.
Clatter.
The sound of her broken wooden sword hitting the ground reverberated through the stunned silence of the hall.
"Leoni… lost?"
The voice trembled, as if fearing the repercussions of declaring such a reality.
"She lost. The Orange Dancer lost…"
"Leoni was defeated by Sonia!"
"What was that move? I've never seen a miracle like it before. Is it new?"
"A first-year defeating a fully-fledged Silver-tier Spellblade!"
"This is insane! Am I witnessing the rise of a new Sword Saint?"
As the shouts and cheers of the crowd grew louder, Leoni, drenched in sweat but still composed, looked at Sonia. The younger girl was barely standing, her entire body trembling with exhaustion.
Leoni smiled warmly and asked, "What's the name of that miracle?"
In Sonia's mind, the image of the woman standing on the moonlit lake resurfaced. Without hesitation, the name came to her lips:
"Water Moon."
The tension broke as Inglit, Sonia's ever-loyal supporter, pumped her fist into the air and shouted, "Sonia!"
The first-years roared in unison.
"Sonia! Sonia! Sonia!"
Not to be outdone, Leoni's fans countered:
"Leoni! Leoni! Leoni!"
The hall was a symphony of their names.
Leoni raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Congratulations, Sonia. Today, you've become one of Swordflower University's brightest stars."
"Just like me."
Sonia tried to smile back but faltered, her body finally giving in. She began to collapse.
Leoni reached out to catch her, their eyes meeting briefly before they both chuckled.
The crowd erupted into cheers.
Meanwhile, in another corner of the hall.
Felix and Lorien, locked in a grueling stalemate, glanced over at the commotion.
Watching the raucous celebration for Sonia and Leoni, they simultaneously let out sighs, their strength drained by the realization.
With shared wry smiles, they shook their heads.
The fight that had begun over their conflict had ended with neither of them in the spotlight.
For men like them, born into privilege and used to attention, being overshadowed was a bitter pill to swallow.
Lorien threw down his sword and muttered, "Don't move. I need to punch you."
Felix blinked. Before he could respond, Lorien walked over and socked him in the face, sending him sprawling.
"Remember this punch, Felix," Lorien said coldly. "Not every woman is yours for the taking."
He turned and walked away, leaving Felix sitting on the ground.
Watching Sonia and Leoni bask in the limelight, Felix sighed softly.
"Yeah… you're right."
Unbeknownst to him, two shadowless figures had joined the audience.
Invisible to everyone else, their conversation seemed to exist outside reality.
"So, losing to the 'Orange Dancer' Leoni was one of your greatest humiliations, wasn't it?" the Observer teased.
The Sword Maiden remained calm. "Not really. I beat her three years later, so it doesn't matter."
"Three years… you really held onto that grudge," the Observer muttered, flipping through a notebook.
"What surprises me is that this so-called 'Duke of Vice' used to be a swordsmanship prodigy. That wasn't in the records."
"It's not surprising. For a Vosloda, being a swordsmanship prodigy is the bare minimum."
"Do you think this experience helped him develop his strategies to counter Spellblades later in life?"
"Who knows? No one truly understands how their present choices will shape their future self. Every Spellblade digs for the treasures of destiny but risks unearthing their own grave…"
The Observer chuckled. "Getting philosophical, are we? That doesn't sound like the Death-crazed Sword Maiden I know."
A cold blade kissed his throat.
"I'm not that foolish girl, and you're just my defeated prey," the Sword Maiden growled. "Watch your tone."
Raising his hands in mock surrender, the Observer grinned. "Apologies. If you're really upset, you can always take it out on Ash. I don't mind."
The Sword Maiden scoffed, lowering her sword.
"You know," the Observer mused, "the 'Water Moon' I saw before wasn't quite like this. Have you been tweaking miracles even in this state?"
"Hardly." She shook her head. "What you're seeing is one of the earliest iterations of Mirror Water Moon. Crude, unpolished… but perfect for the current Sonia."
"Fitting," the Observer agreed. "No miracle is 'the best,' only the most timely. Still, I'm curious to see how Sonia grows when she's not burdened by the past."
The Sword Maiden's gaze turned cold. "Perhaps you should worry about Ash. Today is his Blood Moon Judgment, after all."
"Why worry?"
The Observer's smile turned chilling, sending a shiver down the Sword Maiden's spine.
"The Four Pillars are watching him closely."