Dawn exhaled, his breaths ragged but controlled. Three battles had passed, each pushing him deeper into exhaustion, yet the fire in his veins refused to dim. His heart thrummed like a war drum, and though fatigue gnawed at his limbs, he forced himself to stand tall.
The competition field stretched before him, the dust unsettled from past duels, the echoes of clashing steel still reverberating in the air. Around him, students murmured, some watching in wary anticipation, others whispering disbelief.
He had won. Again.
But it wasn't enough.
Dawn's gaze swept across the assembled combatants, his focus narrowing on the faces he recognized—those who had bested him before, who had once stood leagues above him. Now, their superiority was uncertain. Now, it was his turn to carve his mark into their memories.
Without hesitation, he raised his blade and pointed at his next opponent.
"Elian."
A hush fell over the crowd. The tall, spear-wielding noble stepped forward, his smirk tinged with curiosity rather than arrogance.
"So, you think you're ready?" Elian twirled his spear effortlessly, the polished silverhead gleaming under the celestial light. "Last time, you barely touched me."
Dawn didn't answer. Words wouldn't decide this battle.
---
The moment the match was called, Elian exploded forward, spear lashing out like a viper. His reach was monstrous, his speed a blur of silver, thrusts coming in machine-like precision.
Dawn twisted away, [Silver Tide] guiding his movements into a seamless dance, each dodge effortless, like water flowing around a stone.
The spear came again—faster this time. Too fast to dodge completely.
Dawn raised his rapier, intercepting the strike. A mistake.
The impact reverberated through his arm like a hammer blow. Elian was stronger. His muscles screamed in protest as he was forced back, boots scraping against the dirt.
Elian didn't let up. His strikes were relentless, probing, forcing Dawn onto the defensive. It was the same as last time—a game of reach, of control.
Except this time, Dawn had something new.
His eyes sharpened. [Astral Eyes]
The world slowed, edges sharpening to unnatural clarity. Each shift in Elian's footwork, every minute flex of his arms—Dawn saw it all.
The next strike came. Dawn sidestepped a fraction of a second early, his rapier snapping outward mid-motion fluidly transitioning into a whip.
Elian's eyes widened as the metal coil wrapped around his spear mid-thrust.
With a sharp pull, Dawn wrenched the trajectory aside.
Elian stumbled, only for a fraction of a second, but that was all Dawn needed.
He surged forward leaving afterimages at his wake.
[Echoed Steps.]
A spectral afterimage remained where he once stood, flickering like a mirage. Elian, reacting by instinct, swung toward the false image.
Dawn was already behind him.
The whip retracted, morphing back into a rapier. The vibrating blade struck—a direct thrust.
Elian barely turned in time, raising his spear to block. But Dawn's blade hummed with high-frequency vibrations. Where a normal strike would be parried, this one dug in. The moment of contact sent a sharp recoil into Elian's grip, as if hundreds of impacts had landed in the same instant.
His fingers faltered.
Dawn's knee came up, striking into Elian's side with calculated force, unbalancing him further. He staggered, and Dawn didn't waste the opening.
With a final, fluid motion, he drove his rapier forward—stopping just at Elian's throat.
Silence.
The noble's breath was heavy, his muscles tense. Then, after a moment, he sighed and lowered his spear.
"...I Yield."
Dawn withdrew his blade.
Victory.
---
Another match. Another opponent.
Reiner.
Dawn had not forgotten him—the dagger-wielder who had left him in the dust just days prior. A blur of steel, faster than the eye could track.
Now, he faced him again.
Reiner rolled his shoulders, flicking his twin daggers into a reverse grip. "I should have known you'd come for me next."
Dawn merely lifted his weapon in response.
The match began.
Reiner vanished.
Or at least, that's what it felt like. He moved with such erratic unpredictability that normal eyes would fail to follow. But Dawn's eyes were not normal.
His Weaver's Threads had already mapped the terrain, the vibrations of movement painting a ghostly image in his mind. He felt the displacement of air, the shift in weight behind him—
There.
He pivoted, rapier flashing up just in time to deflect the incoming dagger.
The second blade followed, a slashing arc toward his throat. Dawn countered, [Hunter's Grip] reinforcing his control. His rapier twisted expertly, deflecting the attack while allowing him to reposition.
Reiner clicked his tongue. "You're keeping up this time."
Dawn didn't reply.
Instead, he took a step forward—and left an afterimage.
Reiner's dagger struck air.
For a split second, confusion flickered across his face. That was all it took.
Dawn was already behind him.
The rapier lashed out, sending Reiner tumbling away with enormous strength. Then, the two students started running around each other, fully determined to use speed and skills to gain victory.
For a moment, the place qas filled with shadows moving around rapidly and mirages appearing here and there. Onlooking students simply couldn't discern their positions at all.
After what seemed like an eternity, they began to clash head on. Only a few swings mid clash, a dagger was thrown away with such force that it embedded itself into the ground until only the hilt remained visible.
The other dagger came fast, but Dawn was faster.
His rapier, vibrating at an impossible frequency, pierced through the air.
The tip stopped just an inch from Reiner's throat.
"...Tch." The dagger-wielder exhaled sharply, tension fading from his muscles. "I yield."
Dawn lowered his weapon. Another victory claimed.
---
The final fight would be different.
Marius. A noble student, both skilled and strong.
Dawn had beaten warriors with raw power. He had outpaced those with speed. But Marius was both.
Their weapons clashed with brutal force. Dawn's rapier vibrated wildly against Marius's longsword, sending out sharp echoes of metal upon metal.
Dawn was tired. His stamina was thinning.
Marius noticed.
A savage grin split his face. "Running on fumes already?"
Dawn didn't respond. Instead, he breathed—focused.
And then, he moved.
[Silver Tide] turned every dodge into liquid motion, [Echoed Steps] leaving behind confusing phantoms.
Marius cut through the illusions, eyes sharp, but Dawn had already shifted, his rapier striking from an impossible angle.
The noble barely parried. The force of the high-frequency impact rattled his grip.
He grimaced. "Annoying tricks—"
Dawn lunged. His rapier thrust—a lethal feint.
Marius moved to counter, but his footing wavered.
Dawn had made him step wrong.
The opening was microscopic. But for Dawn, it was everything.
His eapier lashed out, transitioning into a whip, entangling the sword arm.
A sharp pull.
A blur of motion.
Dawn closed in. His left hand punching Marius at the head. The noble tilted his head, dodging the punch. Then, he suddenly felt the unmistakably cold sensation of a dagger on his neck.
The noble's eyes widened. He froze. And realised that a dagger had somehow found itself nested in Dawn's left hand.
And then—slowly, begrudgingly—he yielded.
---
Dawn stood amidst the aftermath, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths. The whispers around him had changed.
Disbelief.
Awe.
Respect.
Days ago, he had been an afterthought in this competition. Now, he was undeniable.
And yet, he knew—this was only the beginning.
Because there were still battles ahead. Stronger opponents. Greater challenges.
And Dawn would not stop.
Not until the sky itself acknowledged him.