ONLINE: Blades of Eternity-Chapter 172: A STUDENT NAMED BANE

"The next challenger should come up the platform now!!" Sylvester exclaimed with his usual composed tone.

But after Sylvester scanned the crowd, he discovered that no one else is stepping forward. With the top ten students showcasing their overwhelming strength, it was no wonder the other challengers hesitated. With a silent acknowledgement of the situation, He was just about to declare the tryouts complete when a sudden murmur rippled through the students.

"Seems like I will be the last show in this tryouts"

A boy emerged from the crowd and boldly climbed onto the platform. His face was set with a look of determination, though an undertone of resentment simmered beneath his gaze. "Guinevere," he called out, his voice filled with accusation. "You’re holding a position in the top ten that was meant for me."

The crowd went silent, the tension thickening as Guinevere’s expression darkened. She looked at him, her eyes flashing with barely restrained fury. Bane—the name was enough to ignite a storm of conflicting emotions within her. He had once been close to her late brother, the Fire Prince, sharing dreams and battles alongside him. But that was before everything changed, before the fire that had once connected them was reduced to bitter ashes.

Bane didn’t hesitate. "I don’t know how you managed to take the ninth position, but everyone here knows it was meant for me. I was Fire Prince’s friend and were evenly matched in power—I knew him better than anyone. And I deserve this place, not the sister who lives off his memory."

Guinevere’s fists clenched, and her jaw tightened as she struggled to keep her composure. Bane’s words cut deeply, twisting her grief and rage into a nearly uncontrollable force. She could feel the blood roaring in her ears, her magic sparking dangerously around her.

"Friend?" she finally spat, her voice low but seething with anger. "You’re no friend. My brother’s memory deserves more than someone who’d dare to claim his legacy out of selfishness. You only see his death as a way to raise yourself, Bane. But I’m here because I trained, I fought, and I’ve earned every bit of strength I have."

The audience held their breath as the two faced off, a palpable enmity between them. Even Sylvester seemed momentarily taken aback by the intensity of Guinevere’s response. Bane’s expression flickered with a mixture of frustration and anger, but he held his ground, raising his hand to ignite a flame.

"Then prove it," he challenged. "Show me you deserve that spot."

"Gladly"

Guinevere didn’t hesitate. She stepped forward, her confidence radiating as she prepared to face Bane. But just before she could reach the platform, a hand lightly gripped her arm. Turning, she met Ethan’s steady gaze. He offered her a reassuring smile, his eyes filled with unwavering support.

"Guinevere," he said, his tone both calm and powerful, "don’t just beat him—make sure he remembers why he doesn’t belong in the top ten. Show him the strength of the Fire Prince’s blood."

Her lips curled into a determined smile as she nodded, letting Ethan’s words settle within her. He had always been a source of calm confidence, and in this moment, his encouragement was all the fuel she needed. Of cause, she notice the rest giving her a silent nod of confirmation which encouraged her even further.

With her resolve blazing, Guinevere turned back toward the platform and strode up the steps, her every movement a statement of strength. As she faced Bane, her posture was fierce, her stance unbreakable. She narrowed her eyes, her focus unyielding as she sized up her opponent.

Bane sneered, a flicker of arrogance lighting his expression. "Still think you can keep that spot?" he taunted, his tone laced with condescension.

Guinevere didn’t flinch. "I don’t need to think, Bane," she retorted coldly. "You’ll see exactly why it’s mine."

And right after, As Sylvester’s signal echoed across the platform, both Guinevere and Bane unleashed their flames in an instant, igniting the arena in a roaring inferno.

Bane’s flames blazed a striking royal blue, their fierce brightness casting sharp shadows and drawing gasps from the audience. His fire burned hotter than ordinary flames, a testament to his skill and mastery. He smirked, relishing the intensity of his display, confident it would leave an impression.

But then Guinevere’s flames appeared, and his smirk faltered. Her flames weren’t merely red or blue; they shimmered with shades beyond ordinary fire. Hues of deep red, radiant blue, and a rare glint of silver intertwined, forming a living, breathing blaze that pulsed with the essence of Lehavot itself—the very core of flame.

The sight alone sent ripples of awe through the crowd, their faces marked by wonder and disbelief. Even the Vice Chancellor and the academy’s pillars shifted, intrigued by the ancient power radiating from Guinevere’s fire. They had seen many prodigies, but something like this—flame of primal origin—was a rarity.

Bane’s royal-blue flames flickered, momentarily dimmed as if intimidated by her blaze. Guinevere’s calm, unwavering gaze locked onto him as her flames surged higher, painting the entire platform in ethereal light. Those who had journeyed with her, having witnessed the pilgrimage where she’d awakened this power, exchanged knowing glances, a quiet pride glinting in their eyes.

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With a focused intensity, Guinevere spoke above the roar of her flames, "I hope you’re ready to burn, Bane."

Up above the clouds, right after the all witnessed Guinevere’s flames, the Vice Chancellor’s voice suddenly broke the silence, he leaned closer to General Cao, his expression shaded with genuine curiosity. "Cao, did you teach her that flame? That power… it feels ancient."

General Cao’s gaze stayed locked on the platform, watching the blazing spectacle of Guinevere’s Lehavot flames, a deep pride mingling with his surprise. "No," he replied, his tone uncharacteristically soft. "I didn’t teach her this. She returned with that flame from the pilgrimage."

This answer only deepened the Vice Chancellor’s intrigue, his mind racing. ’The pilgrimage again?’ he mused. ’These young prodigies seem to uncover powers and insights from that place that even the academy’s greatest cannot grant.’ He made a mental note, his curiosity ablaze: ’I need to see for myself the source of their newfound strength.’

But while Vice Chancellor Reeves was pondering the origins of Guinevere’s power, a different thought gnawed at General Cao. His fists clenched tightly as he felt a wave of both grief and pride. His mind drifted to Antonio—the Fire Prince, Guinevere’s late older brother. Antonio, ’my boy,’ he thought, ’it seems your little sister no longer needs the guidance you once offered. She has not only followed in your footsteps—she’s surpassed you.’

With a subtle nod, General Cao breathed out, letting his silent tribute to his former protégé dissolve in the roaring heat of Guinevere’s flames.