Prelude to Paired Evaluation V

The failures of the previous teams were expected.

Lucifer and Jin had overwhelming individual strength, but their styles clashed too much—Lucifer, a relentless force, needed a partner who could match his tempo. Jin, a necromancer, fought methodically, wielding both his twin blades and the dead. They weren't actively working against each other, but neither were they fully in sync. They landed some solid hits but couldn't capitalize on them, allowing the six-star beast to recover again and again.

Ren and Ian were worse. Ren fought like he was the only one on the battlefield. Ian, disciplined and strategic, tried to cover him, but Ren refused to acknowledge him as an equal. It was a disjointed effort, two warriors with terrifying techniques but no cohesion. Their defeat wasn't from a lack of skill but from sheer arrogance.

And then there was Rachel and Cecilia.

A disaster. An actual catastrophe of a pairing. It was impressive how bad they were together. Not only did they fail to coordinate, but they actively hindered each other, arguing mid-battle, their magic clashing, their spells disrupting each other's flow. If it hadn't been a training exercise, Nero might have had to intervene much earlier.

Three failures. Three lessons in what not to do.

Which meant it was our turn.

Seraphina stood beside me, her expression neutral, her grip firm on her sword. Unlike the others, she wasn't concerned. She wasn't tense. She wasn't overthinking.

She was simply ready.

And I liked that.

Nero called for the next match. The six-star beast materialized in the arena.

A Dreadhowl Juggernaut.

An apex predator of the wilds, standing at nearly five meters tall, with obsidian-colored fur and eyes that pulsed with a deep violet glow. A monster designed to take punishment and keep moving, its natural mana-infused hide making it highly resistant to physical and magical attacks.

It was an endurance fighter. Which meant we had to be faster.

Seraphina and I moved at the same time.

She dashed forward, her blade unsheathing in a single motion—clean, precise, effortless.

I followed, lightning flickering at my fingertips.

The beast roared, the force shaking the arena, but we didn't hesitate.

Seraphina reached it first, disappearing in a flicker of movement.

Not teleportation—pure footwork.

Her blade moved like a falling petal in a storm, graceful yet lethal, slashing across the beast's thick hide. Sparks flew as her sword carved into its defenses, each movement flowing seamlessly into the next.

Seven Blossoms Blade Art—Third Form: Whispering Petals.

She became a blur of steel and motion, never staying in one place long enough for the beast to retaliate.

And then I was there.

I activated Lucent Harmony, Luna's sigils appearing on my arms as I felt the rush of power.

The superiority that came with having the power of a qilin.

I reached out, tapping into the raw energy around us, bending it to my will.

The battlefield itself became my weapon.

Lightning flickered from my hands, but I didn't just hurl a bolt—I shaped it.

I pulled in stray mana, enhancing the spell, weaving it into something sharper. I didn't need brute force; I needed efficiency.

The air crackled as I thrust my palm forward.

Storm Pierce.

A condensed spear of lightning shot through the air, striking the Juggernaut right where Seraphina had weakened its hide. The beast staggered—not from the force alone, but from the sheer precision. The attack had burrowed into the exact spot with the lowest resistance.

Seraphina didn't waste the opening.

Her footwork shifted.

She stopped dodging.

Her aura condensed.

The very air around her shimmered.

Her blade, once light and flowing, became absolute.

Violet Mist Divine Art—First Movement: Violet Sunset Genesis.

The shift was immediate. Before, she had been wind. Now, she was a storm.

Her sword blurred, its edge wrapped in a deep violet glow, and she drove it straight into the Juggernaut's chest.

For the first time, the beast howled in genuine pain.

I moved again.

The beast retaliated, its massive claw swinging toward Seraphina.

I raised my arm, my mana surging.

Five-Circle Spell: Aetheric Bastion.

A barrier materialized in an instant, an iridescent shield flickering with the combined energy of multiple elements. The claw crashed against it, force meeting force—but I had fine control over ambient mana.

Instead of brute resistance, I redirected the energy, twisting the impact so that the claw slid off the barrier instead of breaking through it.

Seraphina spun away, her attack completed, her blade flicking to the side to shed the violet glow.

The beast snarled, wounded but far from defeated. Its hide rippled, its mana surging as it adapted to our attacks.

It was getting stronger.

"Keep moving!" I called to Seraphina. "If we stop, it'll regenerate too fast!"

She didn't respond with words—just a sharp nod, already understanding.

We moved together again.

Seraphina struck from the front.

I struck from the sides.

We used the battlefield, the gaps in each other's movements, the disruptions in the Juggernaut's mana flow.

We weren't just attacking it.

We were breaking it down.

Every strike, every spell, every movement—they all had a purpose.

For the first time, the beast was forced on the defensive.

It wasn't enough to kill it. Not yet.

But it was enough to matter.

Enough that Nero actually smiled.

After several minutes, he finally raised his hand, signaling the end of the match.

The beast was teleported away.

The arena fell silent.

And then, Nero spoke.

"Finally, someone actually understands teamwork."

His voice carried across the field, unimpressed yet approving.

He looked at Seraphina first. "Your technique is refined, your execution precise. But your greatest strength is adaptability. You worked within Arthur's rhythm and adjusted on the fly. That is what makes a warrior great—not just skill, but understanding."

Seraphina simply nodded.

Then, he turned to me.

"And you," Nero said, tilting his head slightly, as if assessing something deeper. "You have something most people don't. You don't just fight alongside someone—you utilize them."

He gestured to Seraphina. "You saw her strengths. You adjusted. You complemented her style instead of forcing her to adjust to yours. That is what made your teamwork superior."

A pause.

Then, with a glance at the rest of the class, he added, "Take notes."

Lucifer looked vaguely interested. Ren scowled. Ian nodded, as if filing the information away. Rachel smiled.

And Cecilia…

Cecilia just grinned.

I had no idea what that meant, but I had the sinking feeling I'd find out sooner rather than later.

'Your use of Lucent Harmony needs work,' Luna's voice echoed in my mind, her usual serene tone laced with mild disapproval.

'How so?' I asked, though I already suspected the answer.

'You use it sporadically,' she explained. 'Lucent Harmony has divided itself into separate abilities in your mind. You're treating them like isolated tools when they should be functioning together as a single, fluid system.'

I absorbed her words, replaying my recent fights in my head. She wasn't wrong. I had managed to synchronize my abilities when I used the five-circle God Flash against the Abyssal Tide Serpent, layering my elemental affinity, spellcasting, and ambient mana control into one seamless strike. But that was more instinct than intention. My usual approach had me cycling through abilities instead of weaving them together as one cohesive force.

'So you're saying I need to stop thinking of them as separate skills and just… act?'

'Exactly,' Luna said. 'The power is already there. You just need to stop overcomplicating it.'

I let out a slow breath. Easier said than done. But not impossible.

Across the training ground, Nero clasped his hands behind his back, surveying us with that ever-present air of scrutiny. "Now, all of you know what you need to improve before the paired evaluation," he announced. "That will be held next Friday. You have ten days to work on your coordination and ensure you don't humiliate yourselves again."

That last part was clearly directed at two people in particular.

"Before you go, I'll be assigning grades based on today's performance," Nero continued, eyes settling on Rachel and Cecilia first.

"Rachel Creighton and Cecilia Slatemark," he said, voice exasperated. "F. The worst teamwork I've ever seen in my life. Not only did you ignore each other, but you actively sabotaged one another. I've seen rivals cooperate better under threat of death, and yet the two of you—" He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Figure it out."

Cecilia, of course, looked entirely unbothered. Rachel, on the other hand, shot her a glare that could have melted steel.

"Lucifer Windward and Jin Ashbluff," Nero continued. "C+. Lucifer, you treated this as a one-on-one battle and expected Jin to keep up. He didn't. You didn't adjust, nor did you attempt to incorporate his fighting style into your own."

Lucifer's expression remained unreadable, but Jin gave the faintest nod. It was rare to see him react at all, so I took that as something.

"Ian Viserion and Ren Kagu," Nero moved on. "B-. Ian, you tried. Ren, you didn't. This was salvaged entirely by Ian's efforts to coordinate. Ren, I suggest you try remembering that a team battle is not a solo duel with extra background noise."

Ren merely scoffed, crossing his arms. Ian sighed, clearly expecting this response.

Then, finally, Nero turned to me and Seraphina.

"Seraphina Zenith and Arthur Nightingale. A."

I felt Seraphina glance at me, the faintest flicker of curiosity crossing her otherwise impassive face.

"Your teamwork was near-perfect," Nero continued. "You adapted to each other naturally, covered weaknesses, and didn't hesitate to shift strategies. The only reason this isn't an A+ is because, Arthur"—his gaze locked onto mine—"you were still holding back. Had you utilized all of your abilities, you would have had an easy A+."

I clenched my fist slightly at his words. He was right. I had held back. Not because I lacked confidence, but because I still wasn't fully accustomed to using Lucent Harmony the way Luna described. If I could incorporate everything into a single, fluid style rather than treating each ability as a separate tool…

I exhaled slowly.

I had ten days to figure it out.