"Begin!"

Later, what followed wasn’t a surprise charge, but the three scholars from Class E moved forward in what could generously be called a formation.

Garen at the front with a blade clutched in both hands. Mikael flanking to the right, muttering a water incantation, and Linnea at the rear, already channeling her spell into a basic wind projectile.

Rosalin didn’t even move, she simply let them come.

Garen swung first, the blade slicing diagonally, hoping perhaps to force a reaction from his foe. However, Rosalin easily stepped aside with just a shift of weight.

Behind him, Mikael’s palm ignited with a thick burst of water mana, shaped into a concentrated jet that screamed toward her side.

"[Water Jet]!"

Turning her head, Rosalin lifted her blade, not to block it, but to redirect its path of the spell. It hissed past her and splashed harmlessly against the enchanted floor.

"Seriously!?" he exclaimed.

Then, Linnea’s wind spell fired a breath later but it was too soon.

"[Wind Blast]!"

The projectile veered, wobbling in flight, and dispersed before it even touched her. The casting was rushed and the aim was poor.

As the fight went on, Ruvian narrowed his eyes, tracking every motion.

’Rosalin could end this at any moment if she wanted to... in fact, she could probably do it blindfolded.’

All because the difference in ability between them was chasmic.

But instead of crushing them with that gap, Rosalin gave them the one thing that all early fighters needed most: a chance to see themselves fail with dignity and learn from the fight.

’She’s always that kind of person...’ Ruvian thought.

The three scholars regrouped, panting heavily.

Later, Ruvian caught the faint shift of Rosalin’s stance, the smallest change in grip.

And at that moment, he wondered...

Has she finally decided to attack?

And truth be told, she was.

Rosalin moved, there was no weighty footfall to signal her advance, only the sound of a single foot gliding against the training floor.

And just like that, she closed the gap between her opponent.

’She’s fast...’

Ruvian admitted, surprised as well.

Garen barely saw her coming. His stance, meant to be solid and braced, had been thrown off by a single breath of hesitation.

Rosalin’s blade met his ribs, not with an edge, but with the flat, and tapped him squarely.

Garen stumbled, grunted, then went down to one knee. The force was so strong that it gave him difficulty to breathe.

The duel had started only moments ago, and yet the floor was already calling for his name.

"Tch." Mikael clicked his tongue.

Then, he reacted fast, perhaps the fastest of the three, but not fast enough. He had managed to raise his mana, the words of his water spell already half-shaped.

And yet...

Rosalin easily turned her body with perfect balance and stepped across the line of his spell before it fully left his hand.

’Huh?’

’Is she a monster!?’

Garen was shocked, but there was nothing much he could do.

Rosalin’s sword dipped low, its hilt clipping Mikael’s wrist with just enough force to make him flinch and drop the casting mid-flow.

The water sputtered, lost cohesion, and fell to the floor in a harmless splash.

"Shit!" Mikael stepped back, then caught himself.

His fists clenched, but the second he looked into her golden-amber eyes, his face paled and without realising... he began to drop his both arms.

"Ah..."

He had surrendered himself.

Now, only Linnea was left, she stood behind them, still gripping her staff, knuckles pale beneath her gloves.

Her wind spell crackled faintly at the tip, ready to fire again. Her eyes darted between her fallen teammates and the red-haired girl who now slowly approached her.

Rosalin didn’t raise her blade, only simply walked forward, as if she was giving her opponent all the time she needed.

But in the end, Linnea didn’t cast her spell, she couldn’t and she didn’t dare. The spell faltered and she stepped back without realizing it.

That was the end of the fight.

With that, Rosalin lowered her sword completely. Her expression neither carries triumph or pride, but a soft look of acknowledgment.

Still, she let out a calm smile. "Keep your head ups. There is no shame in this defeat. It’s just practice, and you all did very well," she said softly.

Linnea’s eyes widened, then she bowed her head.

That was all she could do.

Silence followed, then, the crowd erupted.

The applause came in waves. Class A students clapped first, but soon Class E followed. Even the most jaded of them could not deny what they had just witnessed.

In the stands, Delila’s arms were crossed neatly in front of her, her lips drawn into a polite smile.

But the muscles along her jaw told a different story.

Her gaze flicked toward Rosalin, then to the three from Class E, heads low but eyes open.

They had been spared humiliation.

But that wasn’t part of her plan.

’Why is Lady Rosalin holding back?! Ugh!’

Delila growled in her thoughts.

She had hoped for something else to happen. A crushing defeat that could be cited in faculty memos.

Something that would let her slash points from Class E’s score without question and quietly bolster her own top scholars.

But this became an exhibition of skill instead of dominance. The spectators were too impressed, too moved, so there would be no morale collapse from Class E from this fight.

Ruvian stood with arms loosely folded. His eyes were fixed on Delila, he caught the slight falter in her fabricated expression.

He sighed quietly but satisfied.

’Too bad. Her first card had been played and even that one had slipped through her fingers.’

As the applause slowly faded into murmurs, Rosalin calmly stepped down from the dueling stage.

She did not bask in the crowd’s approval nor acknowledge the ripple of admiration in the eyes of those she passed.

Her expression, still calm and composed, remained untouched by pride. Then, for a brief moment, her gaze caught on a person standing near the edge of the ring.

Calyra Arcanis.

Rosalin’s golden eyes stayed on her a little too long.

She held her chin just a degree higher, the faintest tension rising beneath the collarbone, invisible to most, though not to Ruvian, who watched from afar.

’Rosalin still has her eyes on her...’

’That’s a positive thing to know.’

If Rosalin had been forged through expectation and discipline, then, Calyra was carved from potential that was caged.

Rosalin turned away without a single word and stepped into the line of Class A scholars who stood at ease near the platform’s edge. She hoped that one day, she would get the chance to test the so-called prodigious mage with her own blade.

’If my memory was right, the fight happened quite late in the story... but Rosalin didn’t have to wait long.’

Because Ruvian had already planned their fight to happen earlier than what the novel wrote.

’I need both of them to get stronger.’

But that was for the future.

’Now, it’s time for me to discuss a few things with my teammates.’

And by means of teammates, they were from his Polaris Circles who also volunteered as soon as they saw Ruvian did.

With a casual sigh, Ruvian walked towards the two of them who stood among the sea of Class E scholars, still watching the stage.

──────── ✦ ────────

[Chapter 72: The First Blade Drawn (2)]