After so ti, Cecilia was the last one to succeed, her dummy finally shuddering from the delayed impact.
"Finally done," she groaned, rolling her shoulders like she'd just completed a chore rather than a crucial combat technique.
Nero barely acknowledged her. He was already moving forward.
"Well done," he said, though his tone was so neutral it barely sounded like praise. "Now, we move on to sparring."
The air shifted imdiately.
No one said anything, but there was a palpable awareness that things were about to get serious.
"The rules are simple," Nero continued, his grey eyes scanning us with clinical detachnt, "Only aura reinforcent and Delay Piston are allowed. No spells. No weapons. No Arts."
He let the words settle before continuing.
"I will be assigning the pairs."
His gaze swept over us, calculating.
"Lucifer vs Ren."
The atmosphere sharpened imdiately. The two prodigies locked eyes, their rivalry practically a physical force in the air.
"Ian vs Jin."
Ian cracked his knuckles, flashing a sharp grin. Jin rely sighed, muttering sothing under his breath about the pointlessness of punching people.
"Rachel vs Cecilia."
Cecilia snorted, her arms crossing.
"Ti to take the title of female representative from you," she said, stretching like a cat preparing to pounce on prey.
"Sorry, but I won't lose," Rachel replied, her sapphire eyes calm, unwavering.
Nero barely gave them a glance before delivering the final pairing.
"Seraphina vs Arthur."
She stepped forward, moving with the effortless grace of soone born for battle. Silver hair, ice-blue eyes, an aura of calm, controlled lethality.
Like and Lucifer, she was a swordsman.
But unlike —
She was half-elven, the princess of Mount Hua, raised in the brutal martial arts traditions of the Eastern Continent.
Which ant, put simply—
I was about to get my ass kicked.
We stood opposite each other in the training arena.
No weapons. No spells. Just aura and fists.
Seraphina's expression was unreadable, but there was an edge to her stance, a kind of quiet expectancy.
I exhaled. No backing down now.
"Begin."
Seraphina moved first.
I barely had ti to register it before her fist was already coming toward .
My instincts scread at to block, but before I could even react—
WHAM!
Her strike slamd into my ribs, sending skidding backward. Even with aura reinforcent, the force rattled my bones.
I barely had ti to recover before—
THUD.
Another hit.
Seraphina wasn't just faster—she was stronger.
Her mana core was higher than mine, and in a fight where raw physicality mattered, that was a huge problem.
'Think, Arthur.'
I adjusted my stance, bracing myself for her next attack.
She ca in again, fluid and precise, aiming for my shoulder this ti.
I dodged, just barely.
'I can't outmatch her speed. I can't outmatch her strength.'
Which ant I had to outmatch her technique.
She threw another punch.
I blocked, letting my aura absorb the brunt of the impact—and then I struck.
Delay Piston.
My fist connected.
At first, nothing.
And then—
BOOM!
The delayed force exploded outward, slamming into Seraphina from within.
Her balance shifted, her stance faltering for the first ti.
I didn't waste the opening.
Another strike—this ti doubling down.
I threw a second Delay Piston imdiately after the first, stacking the impact.
One hit when the fist connects.
One hit after the delay.
Seraphina staggered, her eyes narrowing slightly.
For the first ti in the fight—she was pushed back.
The silence from the others was deafening.
But Seraphina was not done.
Her expression didn't change. She simply adjusted.
Before I could press my advantage, she stepped into my space, closing the gap.
And then—
A punch.
I braced myself for a normal impact—
But it wasn't.
I felt it too late—a delayed force within her strike, perfectly tid.
My eyes widened.
She used Delay Piston against .
The shockwave detonated, sending stumbling back.
She had adapted. Imdiately.
Seraphina didn't hesitate. She capitalized on the mont, driving her next punch into my gut with precise, crushing force.
I gasped, the air leaving my lungs as I hit the ground, hard.
"Match over."
I lay there for a mont, staring at the ceiling.
I had lost.
But it wasn't a complete loss.
Seraphina had expected to overpower entirely.
Instead, I had forced her to adjust.
As I pushed myself up, bruised and aching, I saw her watching carefully.
Not dismissing .
Not ignoring .
Just watching.
"Did he not cheat?" Seraphina asked, her voice as cool and asured as ever.
Nero didn't answer imdiately. Instead, he studied with mild intrigue, rubbing his chin.
"No," he finally said. "His Delay Piston was executed properly."
Seraphina blinked once, her expression unreadable.
"Impressive, Arthur," Nero continued, turning his attention fully to . "Against a stronger opponent, you managed to complete the technique and nearly gained the upper hand."
I swallowed. Nearly wasn't good enough.
"We'll discuss it later," Nero added. "For now, watch the remaining matches."
Rachel and Cecilia's fight was... a ss.
The two of them were stronger than Seraphina and , but that was when you factored in spells, not martial ability.
This was a fistfight. And in a fistfight, they were both out of their depth.
Rachel, despite her refined elegance, was more of a tactician than a brawler. Cecilia, anwhile, had the aggression but lacked the polish.
In the end, Rachel beat Cecilia decisively.
Cecilia, for all her arrogance, simply did not have the technical foundation to keep up.
She groaned as she hit the ground, rubbing her jaw. "Ugh. Stupid rules."
Rachel just offered a small, victorious smile.
Ian vs Jin was a closer match.
Ian's draconic heritage gave him a massive edge in raw physicality, but Jin wasn't so pushover. He fought calmly, efficiently, his movents precise and controlled.
However, there was a glaring issue.
Jin was a necromancer.
His true strength wasn't in his own fists, but in the legions of undead that normally fought for him.
And today, he had none.
Without his army, his mana reserves were useless.
Ian, on the other hand, had no such limitations. His sheer physical power, combined with his combat instincts, allowed him to edge out a victory.
Jin straightened his clothes after the fight, not looking particularly bothered by his loss. "Should've had my skeletons," he muttered.
Ian just grinned, fangs slightly visible.
But Lucifer vs Ren was a different beast entirely.
Ren was a pure fist fighter.
Unlike the rest of us, his entire combat style revolved around raw martial prowess. Even without his Art, his technique was leagues above Lucifer's in a pure fistfight.
And it showed.
Every exchange was a masterclass in efficiency.
Ren moved like a storm contained within a single body, his strikes precise, his footwork impeccable.
Lucifer, for all his unnatural talent, was being pressed back.
I watched closely, narrowing my eyes.
Sothing felt... off.
It wasn't that Ren was winning.
It was that Lucifer was letting him.
I frowned. 'Lucifer isn't serious.'
Even though Ren had the better technique, it simply wasn't enough to bridge the gap between them.
Lucifer was... limiting himself.
Then, without warning—
Lucifer moved.
And the fight was over.
In an instant, the entire arena shifted.
One mont, Ren had the advantage. The next, Lucifer was no longer fighting on his level.
I barely had ti to register the difference before—
BANG.
Lucifer's fist connected with Ren's stomach, the impact so clean and precise it was almost clinical.
Ren staggered.
Then—
BOOM.
The delayed force exploded inside him, sending him flying backward.
The watching students gasped.
Lucifer lowered his fist, eyes still calm, expression as unreadable as ever.
Ren coughed, pushing himself up with visible effort.
And then he froze.
Because Lucifer's aura had changed.
It wasn't High Silver anymore.
It was White-rank.
Lucifer had been holding back the entire fight, keeping himself at Ren's level.
But now?
Now he was done playing.
Ren gritted his teeth, realizing it too late.
Lucifer vanished.
The next mont—
CRACK.
Lucifer's knee buried itself into Ren's ribs, sending shockwaves through the air.
Ren barely had ti to react before—
WHAM.
A delayed strike followed imdiately, the force doubling down, folding Ren mid-air.
Ren's body slamd into the ground, hard enough to crack the floor.
A mont of silence.
Lucifer stepped back, shaking out his wrist.
He didn't even look winded.
Ren groaned from the ground, his pride clearly more injured than his body.
Nero clapped once.
"Match over."
I let out a slow breath.
Ren had been winning. And then, Lucifer decided he was done pretending.
And just like that—Ren had never stood a chance.
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