In the waiting room of the "Midnight Beasts" team, all eyes were fixed on Beatrice, who was about to face Victoria—a fighter renowned for being the most cunning and skilled at psychological manipulation throughout 143 years of combat. Victoria was a key member of the "Cannibals" team, a name that served as a clear testament to her utter lack of mercy toward her opponents.
"Beatrice, be careful... don't take any unnecessary risks, understood?"
Lucy's tone was calm as she placed a hand on Beatrice's shoulder. Yet, it carried a hint of anxiety—a feeling Beatrice could clearly perceive thanks to her "Eye of Truth," an ability that allowed her to see people's emotions as colored auras. In this instance, a violet hue signaled Lucy's worry and her fear that Beatrice might come to harm. Beatrice, however, remained somewhat skeptical; since emotions can be easily manipulated, she found it difficult to fully trust the sincerity of those words.
"Alright, I'll be on my guard."
Lucy stood up and headed toward the arena, her expression composed and devoid of any visible emotion. She walked with steady, firm steps toward the gateway leading to the battlefield, a cold, silver-hued sword resting at her waist. She had no intention of unleashing the full extent of her magical power—a power bolstered by the blessing of a mysterious entity, the authority of the Rulers of Matter and Void, and a talent so extraordinary that she was hailed as the greatest prodigy in human history.
Her gaze remained fixed on the light at the end of the corridor, marking the threshold to the arena. Upon reaching the gate that led to the arena, she paused, her gaze falling upon a young man leaning against a wall nearby—it was Yuta.
"Beatrice, remember one thing: define yourself by your own perspective, not by how others see you. That is my advice to you."
Yuta's tone was calm as he approached Beatrice. She remained indifferent to his words, though she was puzzled as to why he was even there. Stepping directly in front of her—which only deepened her confusion—he gently placed his hand on her hair. Beatrice's expression shifted instantly to one of profound bewilderment; no one had done such a thing in a very long time, as she had never allowed anyone to get that close, always sensing the malicious intent behind others' actions.
"Take care of yourself, and don't risk revealing your true power."
With those words, he headed into the tunnel, leaving her stunned for several moments before she finally resumed her path toward the battle arena.
The Arena: Victoria vs. Beatrice
The crowd roared with intense excitement, still reeling from the match between Griffi de Molière and William Falcona—a rare, live display of the power wielded by a member of the de Molière family, something not seen for decades. Amidst the electric atmosphere, the announcer's voice rang out, signaling the start of the second stage of the sixth round:
"The second match of the sixth round will be between Victoria Seliran and Beatrice Azwasen!"
As soon as the announcer called out Beatrice's name, an absolute silence fell over the stands. To them, Beatrice was like a demon; by the age of just twelve, she possessed power on the level of a "Supreme Ruler." Her talent was so terrifying that they dubbed her "the monster."
Great talent is generally a positive thing, but when it becomes excessive, it is perceived as a threat—especially if the person possessing it is an orphan or lacks high social standing. Had the child of a duke or a count displayed such talent, it might have been considered acceptable; but for a girl of common origin to reach the ranks of the elite and the nobility at such a tender age—that was something they could not tolerate.
What fueled their fear even further was the volatility of Beatrice's emotions, which made her akin to a ticking time bomb. During her childhood, a series of incidents led them to view her as a monster:
"Beatrice... what is that you're holding?"
At four years old, Beatrice was clutching a red, fleshy mass—it looked like a ball of raw, fresh meat.
"It's the servant who used to look after me..."
Before she could explain that the servant had tried to kill her, her father shouted at her in a fit of rage:
"Haven't I told you time and again to control that cursed power of yours? Are you trying to drive us all mad?"
He struck her with such force that she collapsed violently to the ground, leaving her no chance to explain that it had been an act of self-defense. While the powerful often command a certain level of credibility, they are simultaneously the very people toward whom the greatest suspicion is directed. A few days later, word had spread throughout the entire city of Kelowna, where Beatrice lived. On a beautiful, sunny day—perfect for a stroll—she walked along with a lovely smile on her face:
"Hahaha, it's going to be a wonderful day!"
But that beautiful smile quickly turned into deep sorrow as she heard whispers directed at her from all sides—murmurs filled with horror and disgust:
"It's that girl from the Azwasan family... Didn't she kill several people, including members of her own family and even some servants? What a monster!"
"You're right. Killing someone without a valid reason is despicable—a demon in the guise of an innocent lamb!"
The killing of servants—often referred to as "slaves" by Gu Masters or ordinary humans—was considered an atrocious act by Magic Masters. In contrast, "Refiners" viewed it as perfectly natural, adhering to the law that the strong prey upon the weak. For Mana users, however, it was an entirely different matter; the killing of servants and slaves was completely unacceptable in their society. This fundamental disagreement fueled numerous conflicts between the two factions. Mana users were inherently at odds with Qi users, Refiners, and Gu Masters—partly because many Qi users were mercenaries or hunters who had long suffered under the oppression of tyrannical Gu Masters and "Immortals."
Similar incidents occurred, such as her power occasionally spiraling out of control, triggered by her overwhelming emotions. On one occasion, consumed by intense grief and rage, she even opened a portal leading to the Demon Realm. Beatrice was the type of person who struggled to contain her emotions, which frequently caused her power to leak out and devastate her surroundings—leading others to view her as a demon. After the destruction of the Azwasan family left her all alone, matters only worsened; she was blamed for the tragedy, driving her into complete isolation. Nowadays, she speaks only to a select few, such as Lucy, Grey, Roichi, and Yuta.
The Start of the Duel
Beatrice fixed her gaze upon Victoria Seliran; her gray eyes were cold and indifferent. In theory, Beatrice was the stronger of the two—perhaps Even William Falcona himself—whose own power level, a hybrid of the authority over matter and the void, was further bolstered by the blessing of a mysterious entity—placed her in the rank of "Master Sovereign." Victoria, by contrast, held the rank of "Saint" (several tiers below Beatrice).
"Ready... 3... 2... 1... Go!"
A siren blared.
As the second round began, Victoria took a few steps back, but Beatrice, refusing to let her escape, surged toward her at blinding speed. A faint smile appeared on Victoria's face—a sight that caught Beatrice off guard. Beatrice immediately activated her "Eye of Truth"—which she had deactivated only a short while earlier—and as her pupils dilated, she cast her gaze toward the ground, discovering a dense concentration of mana!
It was irrefutable proof that Victoria had set a cunning trap—one that Beatrice had already fallen into.
BOOM!
A pillar of fire erupted into the sky, leaving everyone momentarily stunned. Victoria possessed the ability to transmute the very ground she stood upon into landmines that would detonate the moment someone stepped on them—earning her the title, "Lady of Explosions."
Minutes passed, and as the dust settled, the girl emerged, bearing only a few minor scratches on her face.
"Is this all you've got, Victoria Seliran?"
Her tone was cold and indifferent, before she muttered, barely audible:
"Explosion."
BOOM!
A column of fire erupted from the spot where Victoria stood. Upon witnessing Victoria's explosion spell through her "Eye of Truth"—an ability that deciphers and analyzes spells, as well as magical and combat capabilities—Beatrice grasped exactly how it functioned. She then refined the technique by integrating instantaneous teleportation and her power as a "Master of Matter," enabling her to transmute bricks into landmines without even needing to touch them.
Nevertheless, Victoria survived with only minor injuries, having managed to activate a defensive aura at the very last second.
"So, the rumors are true... You really are the 'Demon of the Azwasen family,' Beatrice!"
"You're an absolute monster! If I hadn't activated my aura, I would have sustained some truly grave injuries!"
Her tone was pained and fearful, reminiscent of a child being set upon by a vicious dog. The crowd's demeanor shifted instantly to unbridled rage; they began hurling whatever they held in their hands at her, accompanied by a barrage of vile insults:
"You scum! Are you trying to kill someone else? You're still that same damned monster—and you always will be!"
"You wretch! How are you even still alive, you piece of filth? People like you deserve to die!"
It was not her power that fueled their hatred—after all, many of those hurling insults had themselves taken thousands of human lives. Rather, it was driven by jealousy, envy, and a profound lack of understanding. Such is the nature of humanity: they seek to destroy whatever they cannot comprehend, rejecting anything strange or unconventional. Beatrice served as the quintessential example of this narrow-minded, petty mentality.
Yet, despite the onslaught of insults, Beatrice's expression remained entirely unmoved. Her expression was as cold as frost as she obliterated everything thrown her way, reducing it all to mere dust.
A malicious smile spread across Victoria's face as she watched her, then she lunged forward, launching a powerful assault toward Beatrice. But the moment she drew near, Beatrice vanished—reappearing directly behind her, her features obscured by her cascading hair.
Beatrice's sword dripped with blood that was still warm.
Victoria clutched her chest, which bore a grievous, gaping wound that stretched from her shoulder all the way down to her flank.
"How... did that happen?"
On the other side, Beatrice snapped her fingers, causing the ground beneath Victoria to explode.
*Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!*
A piercing scream tore through the air, shaking the entire arena. Everyone stood in complete shock, unable to process what had just unfolded; Victoria's defeat had been swift and, by all logic, entirely unexpected. Despite the psychological toll of the insults she had endured, Beatrice had emerged victorious—and with such effortless ease.
As the dust settled, the girl with the yellowish-green hair lay unconscious within the crater left by the explosion, surrounded by a growing pool of blood.
"The winner of the second match in the sixth round is: Beatrice Azwasen of the 'Midnight Beasts' team, defeating her opponent, Victoria Seliran of the 'Cannibals' team!" "Currently, the 'Midnight Monsters' team leads the 'Cannibals' team with a score of 2 to 0!"
A Sudden Intervention
Beatrice headed toward the gate leading out of the combat arena, unaware that an iron ball—thrown by someone in the crowd—was hurtling straight toward her head. Distracted by the remarks of the spectators and the words of Victoria, she failed to notice the projectile.
Just as the ball neared her—too late for her to react—Beatrice instinctively squeezed her eyes shut. A few seconds passed, but the impact never came. Puzzled, she opened her eyes to see a hand gripping the ball, having intercepted it just before it could strike her. She looked up to find Yuta standing there.
Beatrice was left completely bewildered; she had never expected him to do such a thing. Stunned, she lost all awareness of her surroundings.
A faint smile crossed Yuta's face as he glanced at the ball.
"Why don't we send it back to the person who threw it?"
With a powerful motion, he hurled the ball toward a man who appeared to be in his forties—aiming it squarely at his head. The strike was so swift that there was no sound of bones snapping; instead, it was like a small explosion—a spray of blood, skull fragments, and brain matter.
The crowd was instantly gripped by terror and horror at the sight of the man's death. Screams erupted, and some people fainted, while others began to retch, unable to stomach the gruesome scene. Within mere seconds, the individual's corpse began to dissolve, bit by bit, into black smoke—even the blood-spattered remnants of his head transformed into a thick, dark vapor. No one quite understood what was unfolding before their eyes.
Yuta's smile remained fixed as he gazed toward the terrified audience:
"That person was nothing more than a puppet, crafted to self-destruct half an hour from now."
"The sixth round was intended to conclude in thirty minutes with an attempt on the lives of the heirs to the Duchy of De Moliar—Kathali and Beatrice—as this organization views them as a threat to its very existence."
Yuta's voice was calm, yet it carried clearly to everyone present.
A profound, deathly silence descended upon the arena—only to be suddenly shattered by the uproar of the crowd Amidst the praise and adulation:
"Yuta Caseral! Yuta Caseral! Yuta Caseral!" "Long live the hero Yuta Caseral—long live our hero!"
Yuta offered a sly, inward smile as he watched the cheering crowd:
"Fools... so easily deceived."
The entire affair had been Yuta's plan from the start. The individual who attacked was one of the "shadows" created by Rikudo Navi—known as the Ruler of Darkness and Light—acting under orders to strike at Beatrice the moment she reached the gate leading out of the arena.
Yuta had anticipated this; Beatrice's unstable, hidden state of mind would leave her oblivious to her surroundings. The attack was not born of malice, but was a calculated move to earn her trust—a ploy that had succeeded perfectly.
With that, Yuta turned and headed into the tunnel, leaving the arena behind him.
This was no genuine clash between warriors; rather, it was a battle defined by a cunning mind and the shrewd exploitation of opportunities to carry out schemes from the shadows.