Prelude to Sophomore Ball II

Lucifer and Ren moved like blurs, their figures darting across the training room in a blur of speed and precision. The clash of steel against skin echoed in the room, each strike reverberating through the walls as they tested the limits of their strength.

Ren gritted his teeth, pulling his fist back, crackling with raw energy around his knuckles. His focus sharpened as Lucifer's blade gleamed in the low light, cutting through the air with lethal intent.

With a quick step forward, Ren launched his fist toward Lucifer, his entire arm coated in the aura of gravity and space. It was a technique that collapsed the very air around it, creating a vacuum-like strike capable of crushing defenses.

Lucifer's eyes narrowed, his blade flashing in a swift arc as he met Ren's attack head-on. Sparks flew as steel clashed against aura, the sheer force of the impact sending shockwaves through the room.

But Lucifer's grip was unwavering, his movements precise. He twisted his wrist, the blade slipping past Ren's fist, narrowly avoiding the crushing force of his punch. In a fluid motion, he brought the blade around again, aiming for Ren's exposed side.

Ren grunted, barely managing to sidestep the strike. His breath came in short, sharp bursts, his muscles coiling as he prepared for the next exchange. Lucifer was relentless—his sword art honed to near perfection.

'He's faster than before,' Ren thought, his mind racing as he circled Lucifer, looking for an opening. 'Stronger too. I can't let him control the pace.'

With a burst of energy, Ren shifted forward again, his fist glowing with dark energy. He was determined to match Lucifer blow for blow, knowing that one wrong step would leave him vulnerable to Lucifer's unrelenting offense.

Lucifer smirked, sensing Ren's intent. His blade gleamed with a faint, ominous light—a sign that he was using more of his mana. "Still holding back, Ren?" Lucifer taunted, his voice calm despite the intensity of the fight.

Ren clenched his jaw, refusing to respond. He couldn't afford to lose focus now. With a sudden burst of speed, he closed the distance, his fist darting forward again, this time faster, more precise.

Lucifer's blade moved like a serpent, weaving between Ren's strikes, each one met with an effortless parry. But Ren didn't let up. He pressed harder, his fist meeting Lucifer's sword in a flurry of sparks.

In the blink of an eye, Lucifer's sword swept low, aiming for Ren's legs. Ren jumped, narrowly avoiding the slash, but Lucifer was already anticipating the move. He pivoted, the tip of his sword aimed at Ren's chest.

Ren's eyes widened, and he barely managed to twist his body, the sword grazing his ribs. He stumbled back, feeling the sting of the cut as blood seeped through his shirt.

Lucifer paused, his blade hovering in mid-air as he looked at Ren with an amused glint in his eyes. "You're getting better," he said, his voice casual. "But not fast enough."

Ren's breath came in ragged gasps, but he refused to back down. "I'm not done yet," he growled, his fists still glowing faintly with the lingering energy of his Void Fist.

Despite his determination, his eyes couldn't deny the glaring truth in front of him.

Lucifer stood tall, his gaze unwavering as they locked eyes—two wielders of God's Eyes facing off. But in that moment, it was clear. The difference between them was more than just skill. It was mana, raw and unyielding.

A smirk tugged at the corner of Lucifer's lips, and in an instant, Ren felt an immense pressure bearing down on him, like an invisible weight pressing against his entire body. His knees buckled slightly, and he had to clench his teeth to keep from collapsing under the force.

The gap between them—it was suffocating.

Ren could feel it in every fiber of his being. The frustration boiled within him, his fists tightening at his sides as he struggled to stay upright.

Lucifer had already completed the first stage of integration, while Ren was still stuck at White-rank. No matter how much he trained, no matter how sharp his instincts or how honed his combat abilities, the sheer difference in mana rank was insurmountable for now.

It was the same frustrating gap that had plagued him during their first year at Mythos Academy—Lucifer had always been ahead. And now, here it was again, staring him in the face, taunting him.

The pressure eased, and Lucifer extended a hand toward Ren, his smirk still in place. "That was good," he said, his tone almost too casual, as if the spar had been nothing more than a warm-up for him. "But you're not there yet."

Ren's anger flared, but it wasn't directed at Lucifer. It was at himself. At the situation. At the fact that no matter how hard he pushed himself, no matter how much he trained, Lucifer always seemed to be one step ahead.

'Unfair bastard,' Ren thought, his frustration simmering beneath the surface. Lucifer had stayed with his family over the summer, training with the Kagu family to refine his God's Eyes, pushing his powers to a level that Ren couldn't yet reach.

The pressure to catch up, to close that gap, felt impossible at times. It almost made Ren want to give up, to relinquish any claim to the top spot and accept that Lucifer would always be better.

But as Ren looked at Lucifer's extended hand, he felt something stir within him—a quiet resolve that refused to be extinguished.

Ren clasped Lucifer's hand and pulled himself up, their breaths still coming in short bursts from the intensity of their sparring match. Neither had gone all-out, refraining from using their Grade 6 swordsmanship or their most potent spells, but the duel still pushed them both to their limits. They had fought with God's Eyes, trying to spot any small weakness in the other's defenses, every move calculated, every strike precise.

Ren's eyes drifted to the white sword Lucifer held. "So, that's your artifact," he said, a hint of curiosity in his voice.

Lucifer nodded, his fingers tracing the blade before it shimmered and condensed into a ring that slid easily onto his finger. "Ancient-grade artifacts are nice that way," he replied, smirking. "You can store them in this form, always ready."

Ren's gaze flickered to the locket around his neck. He wasn't surprised when Lucifer's eyes followed. 'Of course he noticed,' Ren thought, almost rolling his eyes. Lucifer's God's Eyes caught everything.

"Your artifact is pretty cool too," Lucifer commented, his tone casual but observant.

Ren shook his head slightly, amused at how quickly Lucifer could assess everything, always several steps ahead in observation.

But then, Ren's expression grew serious. He had been holding back this question for a while now, and he couldn't resist asking any longer. "Why haven't you sparred with Arthur yet?" Ren's tone was direct, cutting through the banter.

Lucifer raised an eyebrow but didn't turn to face him. Ren could see the hint of a smirk still lingering on his lips as he began to walk away, mana pulsing faintly around him.

Ren narrowed his eyes, trying to make sense of it. "You know Arthur's improved a lot, right? You should've sparred with him," he pressed.

Lucifer's shoulders tensed briefly before he responded. "Not yet," he said simply, his voice low but firm.

Ren's mind raced. 'Is he… afraid of Arthur?' The thought was almost laughable. Lucifer, afraid? Arthur almost came out on top last year during the Sovereign's Tournament but that wasn't it. Ren knew better than that.

Lucifer had no reason to fear Arthur, not with the gap that now existed between them.

Despite Arthur's terrifying growth in skill over the break, there was one thing Arthur couldn't bridge just yet—mana rank.

Lucifer had already completed the first stage of integration, boosting his mana output far beyond that of a White-ranker like Arthur. Even though Arthur's techniques and skills had reached a level where he might beat Lucifer if they were equals in mana, that wasn't the case.

Ren shook his head. 'No, Lucifer doesn't need to be afraid. Not when they're still worlds apart in terms of raw power.'

But still, something about Lucifer's reluctance nagged at him. Was it a matter of timing? Strategy? Or something deeper? He didn't know. But he had a feeling Arthur's time to face Lucifer was coming soon.

"He's waiting for something," Ren muttered under his breath as he watched Lucifer walk away, the white ring gleaming faintly on his finger.

Whatever it was, it would be big.

Ren turned his gaze back to the training room, still filled with thoughts of how far they had come—and how much further they all still had to go.

As they walked through the corridors, the remnants of their sparring match still weighing on them, Ren broke the silence. "Are you going to the Sophomore Ball with Rachel again?" he asked casually, trying to keep the conversation light despite the growing tension he felt.

Although Ren didn't want to admit it, the two of them had grown closer over the summer break. The sheer amount of time spent training, sparring, and pushing each other had built something that could be called camaraderie—maybe even friendship.

Lucifer, however, wasn't the type to talk much, and Ren expected a short reply. What he didn't expect was the one he got.

"No," Lucifer answered flatly.

Ren blinked, surprised. That wasn't what he had expected at all. Lucifer had danced with Rachel at every ball before, their pairing almost a given.

As they continued walking, Ren's mind wandered back to the first day of their second year, to the way Rachel had been acting. And suddenly, a memory clicked into place.

"No way," Ren muttered under his breath, the pieces slowly starting to come together.

Lucifer's eyes darkened, his expression growing colder as if he, too, was thinking about the events of that day. They kept walking in silence, but the air between them felt heavier now, thick with unspoken thoughts and complicated feelings.