"Alright, Yalian, it's your turn to take the stage," Tilan glanced over the few remaining people behind her and designated a familiar companion.
"Yes, Your Highness, our princess," Yalian bowed half-kneeling on the ground, then threw off his black robe and leaped up lightly, landing in the clearing among the trees.
Tonight, he was dressed in glittering gold and erald Elf clothing, especially eye-catching and giving off the illusion of a scion of a wealthy family, his fingers also held a deep blue rose that represented Edith Academy.
Inhaling the fragrance of the rose, Yalian patiently plucked off the black petals, one by one, until the referee announced the start.
"Twilight Secret Art - Vine Growth."
As Yan Hu intended to make his move right after the battle started, Yalian uttered these words, and instantly, a mass of black thorns and vines began to grow from the ground beneath Yan Hu's feet. Despite Yan Hu jumping out of the way at the first sign of danger, the ground quickly turned into a black thorny forest.
His robust punches shattered many thorns, but Yan Hu, unable to leverage himself in the air, fell back down and was soon subrged by the black thorny forest, continuously roaring and struggling inside, punching and kicking, tearing apart any thorn that entangled or drew near him.
However, the black vines and thorns kept coming incessantly, and before long, Yan Hu couldn't hold on any longer, tightly bound by layers upon layers until he couldn't even let out a complete sound.
"Mmm... mmm..." He reached out looking at that only patch of sky above, then was quickly subrged by the black vines.
"Edith wins!" The referee declared succinctly, prompting Yalian to bow in thanks, then with a snap of his fingers, the vines dispersed, withered instantly, and gradually turned to dust and faded away.
Yan Hu, lying on the ground, appeared lifeless, and even after breaking free, wore an expression of utter despondence.
"Wow, what kind of spell is that? I've never seen it before," many audiences below the stage said, curious and amazed.
"Can't find it online, probably sothing he developed himself." There were murmurs of surprise from the crowd below, expressing their astonishnt at Yalian.
"He's no ordinary person, you know. Yalian himself has Elf blood, and his parents are both experts in the field of plants. Developing a new class of plant-related spells isn't really strange," an audience mber who was well-inford quickly explained, and only then did so people begin to rember this unique young man.
"Tonight it seems Edith has pulled off a surprise victory. Are they really going to surpass Saint Ingo in this year's Winter Festival competition? The thought is pretty exhilarating," soone mused.
"Ahaha, don't joke around. Although everyone is well aware of Edith's long-standing aspiration, every year they've been firmly locked in the first position by Saint Ingo. The outstanding students from the third and fourth years at Edith Academy had their fair share of lilight last year but didn't have many notable individuals. Defeating Saint Ingo is still too difficult," laughed another.
"How about waiting another two years? By the ti Yalian Aifni and their cohort reach the fourth year, there might be a strong year for them," soone suggested.
"Two years, huh? Suddenly, that feels so long. I heard that this year, Saint Ingo Academy accepted several freshn assessed with 'Perfect Level' Talent. By the ti they grow up in two years, it might not necessarily be Edith's advantage," another chid in.
"Timing waits for no one, it's all about how Edith Academy seizes the opportunity," the speaker said, resting their head on their hands, continuing to watch the matches at the venue.
After Yan Hu's defeat, Saint Ingo seed dissatisfied. Subsequently, Suochensi made no further reservations and designated the top student from the second-year students of Saint Ingo Academy to take the stage.
"Saint Ingo - Second Year, Vivina."
This girl had erald green hair and pale gold eyes. She was slightly tall, with pointed ears, indicating her Elf lineage.
"Oh, looks like she's from the sa race," Yalian said with a smile, but his eyes were on alert. As an Elf, he knew all too well that even though she looked similar to the other students, Elves grow slowly. This ant that she was quite certainly not just seventeen years old and would have several more years of experience than her peers.
"You seem a bit nervous," Vivina said as she shook her waist-length light erald hair and then spread her hands wide, a green and a red rose blooming in each hand.
The petals unfolded and the stans swayed, from which tender green Sword Edges erged and quickly grew. Soon after, two blooming swords were grasped in Vivina's hands.
"I've always looked up to Senior Temisia, and it was because of her that I applied to Saint Ingo Academy. Sadly, by the ti I enrolled, she had already left," Vivina spoke while spinning the Sword Edge in her hand and ntioned an off-topic point unrelated to the match.
"What I didn't expect was that Senior Temisia had a sister, and this blood sister didn't go to Saint Ingo but to Edith Academy instead," she revealed with a sigh of regret.
"If she had been at Saint Ingo, I think I definitely would have beco good friends with her."
"What a pity," Vivina said, after which she gripped her Dual Swords and, quick as lightning, flashed past Yalian's side and then stood still.
A drop of blood fell from the tip of the erald Sword Edge, followed by the sound of Yalian collapsing to the ground. He was clutching his abdon, his face deathly pale as beads of sweat rolled off his forehead. It was as if he was being continuously stirred by a blade inside, and on a closer look, one could see he had only been cut by a very small wound.
But around the edges of this wound were black and purple lines, spreading outward as if it was a virulent curse.
"The dance-like elegance of the Dual Swords, those srizing and toxic purple eyes, the sharp and proud fighting spirit, and the gaze that scorned all, a confidence and strength that was daunting." Vivina described the scene that had shocked her back then. The night those demonic purple butterflies soared in the night sky was an unforgettable mont for many.
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