Perfect... absolutely perfect, Boien thought, laughing cruelly to himself. Blind, worthless, who cares. What matters is the world watching me tear a Sarnel down. This victory is mine, and their family name becomes a rug under my boots.
"Wait! What is the meaning of this?!" Bishop Owen looked utterly bewildered by the new chaos unfolding.
Arlo cut in immediately. "Bishop Owen! Young Master Lucian has formally accepted Young Master Boien’s challenge! We request you raise a Sanctuary at once as the dueling grounds!"
With a Sanctuary raised, the impact of any magical clash would be fully contained within its boundary, leaving the cathedral itself untouched.
"Have you all lost your minds?!" Bishop Owen snapped, furious. "This is a sacred ceremony! Why on earth would you stage a barbaric duel now?!"
"But as you can see, Bishop," Arlo pressed, needling him further, "every noble here is eager to watch this unfold. Isn’t this the perfect chance to prove whether the one who triggered a white light actually holds real power, or if it was simply a fluke?"
Murmurs of agreement rippled through the crowd. The drama-hungry nobility ate it up eagerly.
Then, a man from the row of academy representatives rose to his feet. "Bishop Owen, we of Tectra Academy support House Kayden’s proposal. Given that a White Awakening is an unprecedented phenomenon, wouldn’t it be wiser to test it directly?"
Another man in a tall hat and a garish red coat raised his hand in agreement. "Rapal Academy agrees as well! We must confirm whether a man can truly hold a white Awakening. Surely you share the same sentiment, Dean Lucy of Orvis Academy?"
A woman of around thirty-four, seated calmly with a book in hand, paused mid-read. Her gaze sharpened toward the man in the red coat.
Clever, Patrik... throwing these vultures’ attention onto me. Sounds like you’re missing my fist, Lucy thought irritably.
"Ah, now, don’t look at me like that, Lucy," Patrik, Dean of Rapal, said with an awkward chuckle. "Aren’t you curious yourself?"
Lucy shut her book with a soft thud. "Curious or not, anyone who wishes to walk through Orvis’s doors proves their worth through action, not through whatever color happens to flash on a stone. A pretty light doesn’t guarantee a place in my academy."
"Come now... I know you’re not the patient type. If you truly weren’t interested, you’d have left this hall already," Patrik teased.
Lucy turned away, resuming her pretense of reading, ignoring him entirely. But behind her indifferent expression, her mind churned:
If that blind boy truly triggered a white light, it could be the greatest curse of his life, or an extraordinary blessing. Either way, Orvis needs to secure him first.
CREEEAK—
Amid the hall’s mounting anticipation for the duel, the cathedral’s main doors swung wide open. Graceful, commanding footsteps echoed into the chamber.
At the sight of the newcomer, Bishop Owen’s face lit up with reverence and emotion. Lucian, by contrast, felt every hair on his neck stand on end.
NO. My star of destruction has arrived, Lucian screamed internally.
"Everyone present, offer your greetings!" Bishop Owen announced, voice ringing out. "Our Great Saintess, Saintess Lumina Augusta, has come to bless this ceremony!"
Instantly, everyone in the cathedral, nobles, academy representatives, and commoners alike, bowed their heads in unison, offering the highest form of respect.
Lucian, witnessing this scale of reverence firsthand for the first time, was struck speechless by the sheer influence and popularity commanded by a girl barely older than himself.
Lumina walked in alone, without her usual attendant Isabella at her side. Her face radiated a purity, an aura of grace shining even brighter than usual.
"Bishop Owen..." Lumina’s voice flowed out soft, elegant, brimming with warmth, utterly unlike the tone Lucian knew when they were alone. "What’s happening here? Why is this sacred hall in such an uproar?"
This damn Lumina. The gap between her human act and her goddess act in front of a crowd is razor thin, Lucian scoffed internally.
Bishop Owen quickly recounted the situation and the sudden chaos of the duel. Lumina listened quietly, then turned her gaze, walking toward Lucian.
She stopped directly in front of him.
"Oh, Servant of Lumielle, Lucian..." Lumina spoke, her tone poetic, gentle beyond measure. "I hear you’ve refused the grimoire prepared for you. Is there a particular reason behind your decision, dear Servant Lucian?"
Of course I have a reason, and it’s you. You’re the one who prepared that grimoire for me. But there’s no way I can say that to your face, not with your fanatics standing right here, ready to tear me apart for it.
Lumina rested her hand gently against his shoulder, and it was right then, while Lucian was still lost in thought about the Blessing, that he felt it: a thread of dark, blood-red energy flowing slowly from her palm into him.
Wait, what is this energy... damn it, why does my body suddenly feel like it’s burning?
He yanked his hand away from her instantly.
"Ara-ara, Lucian, what’s wrong? Why the look?"
What was she just doing to me... and worse, I caught the scent of blood on her. Someone’s blood.
"Forgive me, Saintess. I didn’t mean to be so improper."
"Ah, did I hold you too tightly? Hmm, I suppose I did eat quite a lot earlier."
What exactly did you eat, Lumina, that your whole body reeks of blood strong enough to make me flinch when you’re this close?
The Saintess turned to him with a thin smile, one that seemed almost too pleased with the moment.
"Lucian, seems like you’re starting to feel it", Lumina thought to herself. "I really did choose well with you. Maybe I should try it tonight after all". A dangerous plan was already taking shape behind that gentle expression.
"Lucian, let’s make this a wager. If you win, perhaps you could choose a different grimoire entirely."
"Do you truly mean you won’t force that grimoire on me?"
Strange. Why the sudden change of heart?
"Of course I wouldn’t force you. That grimoire genuinely suits you best, but if you don’t want it, I won’t push. We’ll find something else for you. Tonight."
Damn it. Still can’t slip out of her grip entirely. But at least this buys me time to find a real way out before tonight comes.
"Very well. I accept."
Lumina clapped her hands together and addressed the entire hall, her voice carrying effortlessly without visible effort.
"Very well. Since both sides have agreed, I myself will raise the Sanctuary. But first, come closer, both of you. Let me offer you my blessing."
As Boien stepped forward eagerly, Lucian was the only one reluctant to accept it, pulling back slightly from her reach. Lumina noticed, and without Lucian catching it, slipped a thread of crimson mana into Boien instead.
"There. You’ve both received my blessing. Now, choose whichever weapon suits you."
"Saintess, I’m a magic caster. I have no need for a weapon, especially not against some blind boy a full tier beneath me."
Lucian ignored the jab entirely, though it only deepened Boien’s scowl. Reaching toward a nearby priest, Lucian took hold of a long wooden staff.
"Tch. A Swordmaster family, and you’re wielding a spear?"
"If I used a sword, you’d lose even faster." Lucian’s tone had turned razor-serious, his expression colder than Boien had ever seen from him.
"Arrogant bastard. You’re only Tier Three, Spark Core. I’m Tier Four, Grand Core. How could I possibly lose to you?"
"Enough, both of you. I’ll raise the Sanctuary now."
Light burst from Lumina’s outstretched hand, weaving a barrier that sealed off the surrounding crowd of spectators.
"Remember, neither of you may strike your opponent once they’ve fallen or conceded."
But Boien clearly had no intention of following that rule fairly. He drew his arm back, flames coalescing into a spear of fire. "FIRE LANCE!"
Lucian’s expression, oddly, showed no urgency at all. Hmm. I expected something higher tier than that. Might as well finish this quickly. I’m still injured, and dragging this out won’t help me.
With fluid, effortless movement, Lucian dodged every strike Boien threw at him.
"Damn it, this blind bastard, why is he this fast? He’s dodging everything!"
Lucian closed the distance in a single leap, and the instant he was close enough, he swung the wooden staff with brutal force.
THUD!—
The strike landed square in Boien’s gut. He crumpled instantly, and before he could recover, Lucian’s boot caught him hard in the side.
"Young Master Boien!" Arlo shrieked, watching in horror as his master collapsed under the beating.
Lucian raised the staff once more, pointing it directly at Boien. "That’s enough, Boien. You’ve lost."
But Boien refused to accept it, screaming through gritted teeth. "Damn it... how could I lose to you, this fast?!"
"You underestimated House Sarnel."
Meanwhile, off to the side, Lumina and Bishop Owen exchanged quiet words.
"Congratulations, Saintess. Lord Lucian has won. He’ll receive the grimoire after all."
"Bishop Owen... haven’t you noticed? He’s been avoiding that grimoire this entire time."
Bishop Owen turned the thought over. It wasn’t just the grimoire Lucian kept dodging, it was the result of his white Awakening itself, questioned again and again.
"Judging by his expression, he’s already grown suspicious of the obelisk and the grimoire both."
Bishop Owen startled at her words. "If he already knows, isn’t that dangerous? What of your plan, Saintess? Do we let Lord Lucian walk free, or... do we eliminate him?"
Lumina’s smile turned suddenly, dangerously cold. "And why exactly would you want my Lucian dead, Bishop Owen?"
A wave of pure cold swept over the Bishop, chilling him to the bone.
"Ah, forgive me, Saintess. I didn’t mean it that way. I only meant, if Lord Lucian refuses the grimoire, we lose our grip on binding him to this Order."
"Who said he wasn’t going to take it? If he won’t take it willingly, then we simply make him want to."
"But Saintess, how? Boien’s already lost, hasn’t he?"
"Ngh. Foolish servant. Look closer at Boien. Does he truly look defeated to you?"
Bishop Owen looked toward the fight.
"Hmm"
"Wait, Saintess... don’t tell me you gave him Crimson Blood? Wouldn’t that put Lord Lucian in real danger?"
"I am a Saintess. If his leg breaks, I’ll heal it. If his arm shatters, I’ll heal that too. And honestly, wouldn’t it be so much more interesting if he came crawling back to me, wounded and desperate? We could use that. It would give me so much more time alone with him."
Her voice dropped into something almost giddy. "Ahh, I can’t wait to see that expression again, the one where he tries so hard to run from me."
Lucian remained entirely unaware of the cruelty being orchestrated against him behind his back, while across the Sanctuary, something about Boien had shifted. His eyes had turned a deep, unnatural red, veins bulging grotesquely along his arms.
Something shifted in the air first, a pressure Lucian felt more than heard, like the moment right before a storm breaks.
Then it hit.
A vein of dark, foreign heat surged through Boien’s body all at once, blooming outward from somewhere deep in his chest. His breath hitched, caught somewhere between a gasp and a groan, his spine arching as though something had reached inside him and yanked.
"W-what... what is this...?" Boien’s voice cracked, disoriented, his hands flying to his own throat as if he could physically claw the sensation out.
His pupils blew wide, swallowed almost whole by a spreading, unnatural red. The veins along his forearms rose thick and dark beneath the skin, pulsing visibly with every ragged breath he dragged in.
"This power... it’s incredible" Boien thought, a manic grin splitting across his face. "Why didn’t I feel like this before? Why has my whole life felt this weak, this small, when THIS was sitting right beneath my skin the entire time?"
He flexed his fingers slowly, marveling at how the air itself seemed to bend around them.
"HAHAHA! Do you feel that, Lucian?! Do you feel what I’m about to become?!"
Lucian’s stomach dropped at the sound of it, something primal in him screaming that whatever had just poured into Boien wasn’t a gift. It was a leash, dressed up to look like a blessing.
Damn it. Whatever that was, it’s not natural. That’s not power, that’s a hook. And I’m the only one here who can see the hand still holding the line.
Boien threw his arm back, flames gathering violently along his fist.
"VENOM FLAME!"
A wave of fire erupted violently from Boien’s body. Lucian barely managed to throw himself clear in time.
"HUUGH. Lucian, I’ll kill you!"
What is this. Why is he suddenly this strong?
Abandoning ranged attacks entirely, Boien threw himself into close combat, using his own fists and body as weapons, striking Lucian again and again in a relentless barrage.
Lucian took a brutal kick straight to the chest. But something about the rhythm of Boien’s fighting style tugged at his memory.
Ugh... this style. Doesn’t this look exactly like Archpriest Isabella’s? Is he...
THUD!
Boien gave him no room to breathe, attack after attack crashing into him without pause. Staggering, vision swimming, Lucian caught something deeply wrong with Boien’s body: his flesh had shifted subtly, skin paling far beyond its natural tone. But because of the Sanctuary sealing them off, it seemed only Lucian could see it.
And through his clouded sight, he caught it clearly now: a dark crimson energy coiling through Boien’s entire body.
Damn it. So this is what Crimson Soul looks like from the inside.
Another kick landed square in his chest, followed immediately by a punch that knocked the wind clean out of him.
GAAAH!
Damn it, I can’t keep fighting like this. Every hit’s hitting harder than the last... Agh. This feels..
His vision was already starting to blur, his awareness slipping.
Boien raised his fist high, ready to bring it down with everything he had.
No, I can’t. I have to move. NOW.