Enjoyment

The towering gates of the Divine World Academy loomed before them like the threshold to another world. Lucien Crimson stood calmly amid the crowd of aspiring entrants, his red hair slightly tousled by the wind, his deep crimson eyes quietly scanning the field. Six years of growth and training had sculpted his presence into something refined — handsome yet powerful, a quiet flame cloaked in grace.

But this wasn't a welcome ceremony. This was war in disguise. The Divine World Academy didn't hand out invitations. You fought for the right to step through its gates.

Swordsmanship. Alchemy. Magic. The three pillars of cultivation and supremacy. And only the worthy would be accepted. Lucien's name had barely been called when whispers erupted among the crowd. "Crimson? As in that Crimson family?"

"He doesn't even have a weapon… Wait—what the hell is that aura? And what's with that on his back"

"...He's not using any magical fluctuation at all." His opponent stepped forward. Jake Everhart. The youngest inheritor of the Everhart lineage — one of the Eight Transcendent Families known for their sharp, unyielding swordsmanship. He was calm, focused. And above all, proud. As Jake unsheathed his blade, his lips curled into a sharp grin. "Crimson, huh? Let's see if your name carries more than just weight."

Lucien didn't respond. He simply stepped forward, drawing his sword from his back with a quiet whisper of steel. There were no grand speeches. No drawn-out posturing.

Just two swordsmen.

Two families.

One clash.

A bell sounded.

Both moved instantly. No hesitation. No wasted motion. Two blurs of red and silver collided in the center of the arena, steel crashing against steel with a deafening shriek. Gasps rippled through the spectators. Each blow was clean. Precise. There were no exaggerated swings — only masterful footwork, razor-sharp reactions, and mechanical exchanges. Neither had yet to unleash their sword techniques — this was a test of fundamentals, and both were clearly beyond prodigious. Jake's blade grazed Lucien's shoulder — only for Lucien to twist and almost disarm him in return.

Clang. Clang. CLANG. Every strike was laced with years of pressure and pride.

"They're both at 3-Star level, but this... this is on a whole different scale." The instructors watching from the tower exchanged glances.

Even among noble families, this kind of refined combat was rare — terrifyingly so.

Still, Jake's expression was calm, though there was the faintest flicker of frustration behind his eyes. Lucien wasn't just fast. He read everything. But Lucien? He was... smiling. Not wide. Not cocky. Just a faint curve of the lips — like this was something he'd been waiting for. And he was enjoying it.