Chapter 119: Introductions!

Once Arannis finished speaking, a strange silence settled over the vast field as everyone stood rigidly in their places, having a stare-down.

Even the faintest shuffle of boots or rustle of fabric sounded loud when compared to the quiet tension.

The Professors, such as Arannis, Raphaeline, Kayle, and the members of the student council, quickly departed from the main area of the field, heading towards an elevated platform on the left side where they can catch up with each-other and discuss the happenings between the students.

Raphaeline folded her arms, her crimson eyes drifting over the field below where Celeste stood within the Demon students, a faint, knowing smile touching her lips as she reminisces about the past.

“She’s grown.” Raphaeline finally said.

Arannis inclined his head, his sharp profile illuminated by the shimmering wards around the platform, “Celeste? Indeed. You’re her target you know? Her idol, she uses your speed of ranking up as a baseline. You should talk to her when there’s the chance, I’m sure she misses you,”

“She reminds me of myself when I was younger indeed,” Raphaeline mused, her tone equal parts admiration and wariness, “But hungrier. Less tempered.”

Arannis’ lips curved faintly, “Good. Hunger makes blades sharper. I hope the Elves can find that hunger, I’ve been disappointed by delegations sent in prior years. It feels like we’re getting weaker,”

“I’m sure my students can help with that,” Raphaeline said, her gaze shifting immediately towards Albedo, noticing how his gaze steadily remained on the Demons, and then shifted to Morgana, Lucian & Miranda.

Arannis followed her gaze, taking note of those students, “Indeed, it seems the Humans are going through a golden generation at the moment. It might be their era,”

Raphaeline’s smile widened just enough to show a glimpse of fang, “So, you see it too.”

***

Back amongst the students, Albedo stand standing quietly just analyzing the field, particularly the Demons, as they were the race with the least screentime in the Novel compared to Elves.

As he was doing this, a clear, commanding voice cut through the silence like a blade unsheathed.

“Humans. Elves. Welcome to the heart of true strength.”

The crowd of Demon students parted slightly, and two figures who Albedo could easily recognize stepped forward.

The first was Celeste, who was now radiating an aura much more terrifying than back when he initially battle her. At her waist was a long whip of soul-bound steel that pulsed faintly with golden light, and strapped across her back was a dark heavy halberd that had a demonic aura to it.

Standing next to her was Lilian, draped in a cloak the color of midnight, and whose crimson eyes was glimmering with playful mischief as her gaze locked with Albedo’s through the crowd, winking at him playfully.

Celeste’s presence was like a hammer striking the silence. Her voice was steady, commanding, and left no room for doubt. All of the Demons behind her and Lilian stood extremely respectfully, as those two were the clear leaders of the yeargroup.

“For the next two weeks,” Celeste began speaking, her eyes sweeping across the gathered Humans and Elves, “You all will be training together alongside us, learning together along side us, and battling both against and with us in various classes and exercises.

The ripple of mana in her words silenced even the murmurs forming at the edges of the crowd. The faint crackle of power radiated from her whip and halberd, weapons that seemed to breathe with her will.

“But,” Celeste continued, “I expect no one to hold the rest of us back.”

Her gaze, deliberate and cutting, slid past the Humans, pausing on Lucian, Miranda, Albedo, and even Zeus with a faint nod of recognition, before landing squarely on the Elven delegation.

For a moment, her words hung in the air like the strike of a bell. The implication was clear. The Elves were the ones she was worried would hold them back, and some of them weren’t pleased at that insinuation.

Morgan Elandar’s sharp features hardened immediately. His jaw clenched, and the faint smirk that tugged at his lips was both cruel and offended. He stepped forward, his white hair glinting like silver fire under the aurora sky.

“And what exactly do you mean by that?” His voice carried across the field, smooth but venomous. “That the Elves, my people, are the ones who would hold you back? That Humans, with their ragged mana and broken foundations, are somehow worthy of your acknowledgment while we are not?”

The words drew a collective intake of breath from both Elves and Humans. Even Prince Dorne stiffened, his jade eyes narrowing at Morgan’s brazenness.

Celeste didn’t flinch. Her whip gave the faintest twitch at her hip, like a serpent eager to strike.

“I mean,” she said, calm but dangerous, “that strength is not inherited. It is proven. If you feel accused, then perhaps the accusation fits.”

The words cut cleanly, leaving Morgan momentarily stunned. His pride flared visibly, a flush of crimson rising in his pale face. “You dare, ”

Morgan’s voice rose like steel striking steel, his aura exploding outward in a cascade of silver flame. The pressure of his mana warped the air itself, sending a ripple through the field as though reality bent beneath his arrogance.

The various Elves straightened, many of them with pride swelling in their chests. Most of the Elves brought were Nobles and had similar ideologies to Morgan after all, so they fully supported his actions, but a couple of them were disappointed in how easily he lost his temper.

As for the Humans and the Elves, some of the weaker ones squinted against the force of his unleashed spirit, but most could easily handle it due to their own strength shielding them.

“You dare speak to me like that, Demon?” Morgan spat, his voice booming. “I am heir of the Elandar line, my blood is one of the oldest in all of Elvenkind, blessed by the First Tree itself! I will not be mocked by you or any other creature who crawled their way into power without lineage!”

The silver flame roared brighter, crawling across the stone beneath his feet. Students instinctively stepped back, some shielding their faces from the sheer oppressive weight of his Noble pride.

But Celeste… Celeste didn’t move an inch.

Her halberd pulsed faintly at her back, responding to her calm dominance, but her own aura remained perfectly still, like an ocean yet to reveal its depth. Her golden eyes locked on Morgan with the same unflinching intensity one might give a child throwing a tantrum.

And then, she exhaled.

The effect was instantaneous.

Her demonic aura slammed down like a mountain, black-and-gold energy crashing against the silver flame of Morgan’s pride. His aura fractured like brittle glass, immediately swallowed whole. The silver flames guttered and flickered against the weight of her presence.

Morgan staggered back half a step, sweat instantly beading on his forehead. The gasps from the Elves were audible.

“You mistake arrogance for power,” Celeste said, her voice low and lethal, each word wrapped in an authority that cracked like thunder. “And bloodlines for strength. That is why you will lose.”

Her whip shifted at her hip with the faintest hiss, hungry to be drawn.

Morgan gritted his teeth, fury twisting his face as his pride burned hotter than ever, but before he could retort, Celeste tilted her head, her gaze flicking past him.

“Fade. Dorne.” Her tone was sharp, commanding—less a request and more an order delivered by instinct. “Restrain your comrade before I decide to.”

The two named Elves stiffened. Fade, the aloof swordsman, let his hand fall onto the hilt of his blade, his narrowed gaze flicking between Morgan and Celeste as though weighing what would be the greater insult: intervention or hesitation.

Dorne, however, stepped forward immediately, his jade eyes narrowing with disappointment at Morgan. A faint ripple of emerald aura flickered around him, soothing and firm like iron hidden in silk.

“Morgan,” he said, his voice sharp but calm, “enough.”

The entire field held its breath as the three Elves stood in tension, the silver fire of Morgan, the calm restraint of Dorne, and the lethal threat of Celeste hanging over it all like the executioner’s blade.

But just as Dorne finished speaking, it was cut short by a ripple of laughter, smooth and mischievous, carrying from beside Celeste.

Lilian.

She had not moved much until now, but with all eyes snapping toward her, she seemed to drink in the attention like fine wine. Her crimson gaze danced over the delegations before locking once again on Albedo.

And then, to the shock of everyone, Elves, Humans, and Demons alike, she broke formation.

Her cloak swirled like liquid night as she crossed the field without hesitation, steps graceful yet unhurried. The crowd instinctively parted, whispers erupting in confusion.

“Is she?”

“She’s walking right up to him!”

“Who is that Human to her?”

Albedo, calm as ever, did not flinch. He simply watched as Lilian closed the distance, her smile curving wider.

And then, with absolutely no hesitation, Lilian threw her arms around him, embracing him tightly before the eyes of everyone present.

“Albedo,” she said warmly, her voice carrying just enough to be heard by all, “I’ve missed you.”

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