Today was the day.
The day of the semi-finals.
And the first matchup was mine.
Lucifer Windward vs. Rachel Creighton.
To the world, it was an inevitable conclusion. The Second Hero against the Saintess. A preordained victory. A battle where I was supposed to shine briefly, gracefully, before succumbing to the natural order of things.
Nobody expected me to win. Not because I wasn't strong—I was. But because Lucifer was simply stronger.
His mana rank towered above mine. His swordsmanship was refined beyond mine. His Gift was an anomaly, the power to wield what no human should possess—black mana and white mana, chaos and order, the perfect balance of existence itself.
But I didn't step onto this stage for them.
I wasn't fighting for their expectations.
