A gale howled.

Cold gleams fell like snow.

The earth was torn apart.

Sand and stone were ground to dust.

On this battlefield evolved from the All-Phenomena Simulation, it had long since become a terrifying, end-of-the-world scene.

But it wasn’t because of some grand clash of magic, and it wasn’t because of a gorgeous duel of martial techniques.

It was only two humanoid beasts who had completely forgotten themselves, using all their strength, speed, reaction time, experience, and decisiveness—using everything they had carved into flesh, bone, and soul up to this point—to carry out a brutal slaughter.

This was already far beyond the level of two fourth-rank warriors sparring. There were no fixed martial-technique buffs, no profound, mysterious moves—those things had long since lost their meaning. Every strike, every motion was the most instinctive attack the two of them had honed again and again at the edge of life and death, and yet just this kind of attack was enough to shake the mind of every person present.

Flesh was cut open, then after recovering in the blink of an eye, collided again. Blood flowed—so they simply let it flow, let it spray.

Pain couldn’t force either of them to retreat. Instead, it made the booming of their heartbeats even heavier, even more excited.

In their eyes at this moment, it was as if there was only each other, and only the most direct collisions and exchanges between blade and sword! Even collisions and exchanges of blood and bone, of soul and spirit!

...

But slaughter always has a moment when it stops.

After yet another violent collision, the two of them stopped at the same time.

The howling gale also calmed, turning into a breeze that only stirred a thin veil of sand and dust.

It ended so suddenly, yet it still didn’t let the spectators’ suspended hearts relax in the slightest. The stands remained deathly silent. Everyone held their breath even harder, staring into the arena without blinking, unwilling to miss a single instant.

The two people in the arena stood less than ten meters apart. They raised calm eyes stained red with blood and met each other’s gaze.

"Can you still fight?" This time, it was Muen who spoke first.

"What do you think?"

"Then make your move."

"You move first."

"No. I’m a gentleman. I should yield to a lady."

"I’m not a lady. I don’t need you to yield."

"..."

"..."

"Steel Plate! If you’re a woman, come slash me!"

"What did you say, damn yellow-hair?!"

"I’m talking about you, weakling!"

"Ahhh! Get over here—I'll chop you to death!"

They had just been so cruel and intense that kids under eighteen would’ve needed their mom sitting with them to watch, yet now the two of them were here, cursing at each other from a distance like two dogs barking through a fence—a husky and a chihuahua—packed with an inexplicable sense of comedy.

But everyone knew this wasn’t some tacky comedic curtain call from a trashy novel. Since it was a duel, there would be a moment when a result was decided.

Muen lowered his head and touched the injury on his chest again, but this time that grievous wound could no longer recover in an instant.

Because this time he really had been squeezed completely dry. There wasn’t a thread of magic power or battle aura left. With no fuel, he naturally couldn’t drive the black flame to repair his body.

And across from him, Ariel didn’t look much better. She didn’t have an injury as deep as his, something that exposed bone, but large and small blade marks covered nearly every part of her body. Even now they kept seeping blood. It seemed she didn’t have any spare strength to deal with them anymore, leaving her slightly tattered academy uniform almost completely dyed red.

Both of them looked wretched and weak, like another strong gust would blow them over.

But in the end, it had been Muen who spoke first just now.

"Still... just a little short."

Muen suddenly let out a self-mocking laugh. He lifted his head, and in that dizziness where his mind was being gradually emptied and the entire world was starting to darken and spin, he sighed with regret and reluctance.

"Fighting a pay-to-win freak like you while jumping a whole minor realm... it’s still too forced. And besides... three external kidneys—right now, that’s a bit too much of a burden on me..."

"Hah? Who are you calling pay-to-win? You’re the one with those things tattooed all over you that look expensive at a glance—have some shame, will you—"

Ariel was about to reflexively bite back, but with a thud, Muen in front of her simply toppled to the ground and lost consciousness completely.

So sudden—yet Ariel wasn’t surprised at all.

"You bastard... you finally went down?"

Looking at the fallen Muen, Ariel took two deep breaths, wiped her face, then started laughing with her hands on her hips, flaunting the posture of a victor.

"Haha... I won! Muen Campbell, you really are still a bit too green. This battle’s victory belongs to me in the end! I’m the winner, I’m the better one—did you see that? I totally just took it eas—ga!"

Unfortunately, that arrogant laughter didn’t last long before it cut off abruptly.

"Ah. I forgot."

Ariel’s expression stiffened. She suddenly muttered with a bitter face, "Those skills of mine... have side effects too... damn it. Making me this pathetic... damn Muen Campbell."

As she spoke, she kicked her legs out, threw her head back, and fainted straight backward as well.

Just as sudden.

The two of them lay there head to head, like even after passing out, they still wanted to keep fighting.

"..."

Silence filled the area.

With both fighters fainting one after the other, the entire arena fell back into a bizarre atmosphere. Many people looked at each other, not knowing whether they should clap and cheer.

Fortunately, the academy’s referee had professional composure. Moving quickly, the referee rushed up to check them, and after confirming there was no danger to their lives, he lifted Ariel’s limp, powerless hand and announced the final outcome in a loud voice:

"The winner—Ariel Bugaard!!"

...

...

"Damn it."

In the resting room, Hertz—normally a man of excellent self-control—couldn’t quite restrain himself this time. He reflexively crushed the stone railing under his hand with a single squeeze.

Stone fragments trickled through his fingers. At this moment, the shouts celebrating the winner and praising the loser finally surged in like a tide, yet to his ears they were unbearably grating.

He didn’t even have the time to comfort the outstanding disciple beside him, to tell him there was still hope and that tomorrow he should keep working hard... Instead, he stared fixedly at Muen and Ariel on the field, a fierce glint flashing through his eyes.

The All-Phenomena Simulation had already vanished, and the two of them were now on the actual platform.

But even that platform was in ruins.

That was because the delicate magic-guidance apparatus All-Phenomena Simulation—specially set up for the exchange tournament’s duels—had failed to completely isolate the aftermath of their battle.

Although since it was student combat, the threshold All-Phenomena Simulation was designed for certainly couldn’t compare to the academy’s famously formidable grand ritual array, being able to pierce through it and let power seep out was already an extremely terrifying thing.

At least, before this truly happened, he had believed it was absolutely impossible.

But this impossible thing had happened anyway, just like that slaughter that even he had found mind-shaking moments ago.

From this, it was clear: these two people’s talent and upper limits completely surpassed everyone’s imagination. If they were allowed to grow, they would inevitably become a great threat to the kingdom.

At that thought, a flicker of jealousy flashed through Hertz’s heart, and the vicious light in his eyes gradually brewed into killing intent.

Right now, everyone was immersed in this atmosphere of cheering and acclaim. If he struck suddenly while they weren’t prepared, there should be a sixty-percent chance to...

"Hertz-qing."

But at that moment, a clear, cold voice made Hertz’s aged body shudder reflexively, snapping him back to himself.

The killing intent vanished in an instant. Hertz turned his head and bowed respectfully toward that silver-white figure.

"Your Majesty the Empress, you... why have you come?"

"To check on you. As guests of my empire, I can’t very well leave you here all day and ignore you."

Celicia had appeared in this resting room at some point. Now, with her lips faintly curved, she nodded at Hertz with an unexpectedly mild expression.

"How is it? Have you adapted to the empire’s arrangements?"

"To be remembered by Your Majesty the Empress is truly our honor."

Hertz lowered his head. "Reporting to Your Majesty, of course we have adapted."

"Very good. Then after watching today’s match, what do you think of my empire’s young geniuses?" Celicia asked again.

"...Outstanding to the point of being shocking."

After a moment of silence, Hertz still answered honestly. "With figures like that, it is the empire’s fortune. I imagine they will also become a solid foundation for the empire’s future."

"Mm, Hertz-qing flatters them. It is still too early to speak of ‘foundation.’ Your kingdom’s students are also quite good—don’t forget, those two fought to the death only to compete for one finals slot, while your side already entered the finals early." Celicia’s lips traced a mocking curve.

"...Your Majesty overpraises us."

Hertz still didn’t dare raise his head, because he feared that if he did, he truly wouldn’t be able to hide that trace of killing intent.

"It isn’t overpraise. It is sincere praise."

Celicia smiled lightly and said, "Since that’s the case, I won’t stay longer. I hope you prepare well. I’m very much looking forward to the finals afterward, and I hope you can also offer me a duel as splendid as this one."

After she finished speaking, Celicia drifted out of the resting room and swept straight toward the platform, telling others to hurry and help Ariel, while she herself personally picked up Muen Campbell and left.

So she wasn’t giving anyone even the slightest chance?

Hertz’s aged hand clenched abruptly, dark veins jumping on the back of it like poisonous snakes.

But in the end, he still loosened it, defeated.

What else could he do? This was the empire.

Rather than fantasizing about something as boundless as carrying out an assassination in the heart of the empire, it was better to think pragmatically about how he should comfort and encourage his student next.

Yes. His Highness Milne was not inferior to anyone. His talent was still top-tier across the entire continent. It was just that those two... were far too abnormal.

The most important thing now was to steady his mentality. He simply hadn’t experienced hardship, but his talent was still there. As long as his mentality didn’t break, the future was still promising.

But... before Hertz could even speak, Kordes—who had just come back to ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ himself from the earlier shock—suddenly asked in a trembling voice, as if to summarize and verify everything Milne had said before:

"Y-Your Highness... you really... can beat monsters like that?"

"..."

Milne’s hand trembled. He didn’t answer.

Instead, he finally lifted that noble head he’d kept lowered ever since the battle reached its climax, and that had remained lowered the entire time.

Yet his gaze didn’t fall on the center of the arena where the whole crowd was cheering, and it didn’t look at the two people who would become his terrifying enemies. It fell instead on that gradually departing silver-white back.

Whether he could beat them or not—he could no longer think about it.

Because it was hard for him to place himself into that earlier battle.

He only stared at Celicia’s back, and suddenly thought...

That Empress, from beginning to end, hadn’t even looked at him properly.

This grand, widely watched journey to propose marriage—was it, from the very start, only him, a clown, performing alone on the stage in a ridiculous, laughable solo act?

...

...

Muen opened his eyes, and what he saw was a pure white ceiling.

An ordinary wooden ceiling, without even a decoration, unable to highlight any nobility—but to Muen, it was so familiar.

"Awake?"

He turned his head.

The same white curtains fluttered in a light breeze. The dim yellow of sunset squeezed in through the gap, mischievously smearing vivid color across that clear, cold face. Unfortunately, that face was so aloof that it instead seemed to freeze the sunset, turning it into the perfect embellishment for that breathtaking high-mountain flower.

"Such a familiar feeling."

"What?"

"Wake up in the academy infirmary, and the noble President Celicia is thoughtfully peeling an apple for me."

Muen propped himself up to sit.

"It feels like I’ve seen this before, doesn’t it?"

"Mm. It does seem like there was the same scene before."

An apple peel of even thickness—thin enough to let light through—hung down from those scallion-like fingers. Celicia answered perfunctorily, focused on peeling off the very last strip, then with a light tap of the fruit knife, the apple was evenly cut into small pieces.

Even in using sword technique like this, she was still outstanding.

"Eat."

She held the apple out to Muen and gave the order coldly.

But Muen didn’t take it. He suddenly smiled meaningfully.

"Though it also seems like there’s something a little different, too."

"Oh? Like how the one peeling your apple in person is no longer some mere student council president, but Her Majesty the Empress of the empire?"

"That does sound like its own kind of fun, but what I mean is..."

Muen pointed at the apple, then at himself, and finally spread both hands.

"Look, I’m injured. So as my dear fiancée, shouldn’t you do something?"

Feed me.

Muen blinked.

"..."

Celicia thought for a moment, then nodded with a very serious look.

"Indeed. I should do something."

With that, she suddenly stood up and lunged at Muen with fierce momentum.

That icy pretty face, plus the fruit knife clenched in her hand, made it look like she really was about to execute a scumbag on the spot...

"Wait, wait, wait—I was wrong..."

Muen’s expression changed. He immediately caved...

"Mmh!"

However, what he received wasn’t the cold judgment of the knife tip, but...

Just a piece of apple.

"How is it?"

Celicia speared a piece of apple with the fruit knife, lifted her hand, and personally fed it into Muen’s mouth.

"An apple fed to you by the Empress of the empire—does it taste good?"

"Mmm... so gooo—"

The apple was sweet, and with the gentle offensive of a tsundere ice-mountain empress layered on top, it instantly became the sweetest thing in the world.

"Hmph. This is only because you’re a wounded patient right now. Don’t get carried away."

Celicia still didn’t forget to warn him.

"Heh heh... Your Majesty is the best."

Muen grinned foolishly, about to seize the chance to pull the adorable empress into his arms, but as soon as he tried to move, a violent pulling pain shot through him.

"Hiss—so painful."

That intense pain surging from inside his body immediately reminded Muen why he was here.

"Hah... I really did lose, huh."

Leaning against the wall, Muen let out a long breath with a complicated expression, then looked at Celicia and suddenly said, "Sorry."

"I don’t remember any place recently where you needed to apologize. Did you do something that wronged me again?"

"No. What I mean is... sorry. As your fiancé, I lost the match and made you lose face."

Muen gave a bitter smile and scratched his head.

"I see..."

Celicia nodded as if she understood, but then Muen felt another jolt of pain.

This time it wasn’t because of his injuries—it was because Celicia pressed the flat of the fruit knife hard against his arm and said with a cold face, "When did I, an emperor of the empire, ever need a man to give me face?"

"Ah, I didn’t mean it like that—"

"Are you looking down on me?"

"No, no, no—Celicia, Cia, Your Majesty, listen to me explain—"

"You really have been getting more and more arrogant lately."

The knife’s spine slid upward, all the way to a dangerously vital place. It looked like it was really about to dig in... but at that moment, Celicia suddenly hooked her arm and pulled Muen’s neck into an embrace.

"However... the intention deserves praise."

"..."

Muen—who had just been worried his life was on the line—flared with irritation at this whiplash between hell and heaven.

He wrapped an arm around the empress’s slim waist and bit down hard on her lips in retaliation.

Unfortunately, the empress’s methods were even sharper than he’d imagined. With only a few counterattacks, she left him rather flustered instead.

A few minutes later, the defeated Muen separated their lips on his own.

Celicia twisted his waist and asked, "After this battle, what insights do you have?"

"Insights?"

Muen panted. "A piece of good news and a piece of bad news, I guess."

"Oh?"

"The bad news is, I still lost."

"That’s nonsense."

Celicia shot him a look. "The good news."

"The good news is, I didn’t lose by much."

Muen turned his head and stared toward the sunset that was about to sink.

Back then, he had been like this ever-darkening sun—never knowing what kind of heights the heaven-chosen protagonist Ariel would go to, a place he could never touch in his life, when he had just clawed a sliver of life out of a dead end abandoned by fate.

But now, on this road of climbing toward higher and higher peaks, he was no longer someone who couldn’t even see Ariel’s back.

He was only one step behind her.

Even half a step.

And after this, it might even be... shoulder to shoulder.

Even in that earlier battle, Muen could indeed feel that Ariel probably still had some trump card she hadn’t used, but he himself... wasn’t without bottom cards he couldn’t casually take out either.

A year ago, when he was lying in the academy infirmary bed just like he was now, it was something he wouldn’t even have dared to imagine.

But he had still done it.

It was hard, but he still did it.

"Of course, what’s most important is..."

Muen pulled Celicia into his arms again and, catching her off guard, kissed her soft lips hard.

Yes—what was more important was that he no longer had to worry about Ariel killing him easily. After all, the gap in strength between them had already shrunk to the point where it wouldn’t be decided so easily.

...And for a yellow-haired villain who had, without realizing it, already owed the phoenix-proud heroine Ariel far too many karmic debts, wasn’t that the best good news of all?