"This is it!"

"She's cornered him... no way to run now!"

"Do it, Miyu!"

The voices rose again, swelling through the arena like thunder.

But neither of them moved.

Her eyes softened for the briefest second, too brief for anyone but Eran to notice. His faint smirk in reply said everything: I'm still here.

And though the crowd screamed for blood, something far quieter burned between them, an unspoken promise neither could voice under all those eyes.

"Get up, commoner!"

"She's not done with you yet!"

"Come on... crawl if you have to!"

The crowd's shouts burst like firecrackers, echoing through the dome.

Beneath the archway, the same boy from before leaned forward, laughter spilling from his lips. "It's not over... not with Miyu! Even if he stands, she'll tear him apart. 'Go on, commoner, let's see that smirk crawl across your face again!"

The nobles around him joined in, cruel grins twisting their faces.

"Ha! Look at him bleed! She's just playing with him!"

Their jeers hung in the air like poison.

On the stage, Miyu stood motionless, her hand curled tight against her chest. Her breath trembled as she exhaled, her gaze never leaving Eran.

He was still kneeling, one knee pressed to the cracked ground, blood sliding down his robe... but his head was lifted, those calm golden eyes fixed right on hers.

Their gazes met.. steady, and unbroken.

Something passed between them in that silence.

Something no one in the crowd could understand.

Miyu's chest tightened. Her eyes glistened, glassy under the light as heat rose beneath her skin. She clenched her fist tighter at her side, fighting the strange ache burning through her.

The noise of the crowd became distant, fading into a dull buzz... their chants, their laughter, their thirst for a show.

Part of her wanted to scream at them.

Part of her wanted to snap her circuit wide open and unleash every ounce of mana she had, not at Eran... but at those voices, those flies that dared to cheer as if this was all a game.

Her violet circuit flickered beneath her feet, responding to her turmoil—light trembling like a heartbeat about to break.

Eran watched her quietly, saying nothing. His hand pressed to the ground, not in surrender but in silent understanding, as if to tell her: Hold it together.

Miyu swallowed hard.

Her jaw clenched.

The crowd screamed her name again...

"Miyu! Miyu! Miyu!"

Her fingers twitched, her aura pulsing once more before she forced herself still.

The heat between them thickened... the wild hum of mana, the thrum of restraint, and that fragile thread of understanding only they could feel.

Above the judges' table, Nyssa leaned closer toward Selene, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studied the arena below.

"Don't you think…" she began quietly, "Miyu's holding back a little? It's unlike her, especially after what she showed in the Grade C chambers. Back then, she never hesitated… never slowed down."

Selene's quill stilled above the parchment. She glanced at Nyssa calmly, though her pulse quickened beneath the surface.

"You're sure she's holding back?" she asked, her tone low, even.

Nyssa tilted her head slightly, a faint frown drawing her brows together as her gaze swept toward the stage.

"I guess so. It feels different this time."

Down below, the air shimmered faintly around Eran as he pressed his palm to the cracked ground and pushed himself upward.. slowly, painfully. His movements were strained but deliberate, each motion defying the crowd's mockery.

Blood still traced down his side as he rose from one knee to his feet. He swayed a little, then steadied himself.

A faint sound... half chuckle, half breath—slipped past his lips.

"Ouch… it hurts," he murmured, just loud enough for her to hear.

Miyu's head lifted, her breath catching at the quiet words. Her violet eyes softened, warmth flickering through them as her resolve nearly broke. She almost reached out—her fingers twitching, her arm lifting toward him before she realized what she was doing.

Her lips parted to speak... something soft, something she shouldn't say here.

Then Eran's mouth curved slightly at one corner. A subtle smirk. A message only she could read.

Stay in control.

Miyu froze, understanding instantly. Her hand dropped back to her side, the storm in her chest stilled for a moment. Her gaze lingered on him a second longer—gentle, quiet, and full of something dangerous to reveal before all these eyes.

She clenched her fist, violet light swelling in a slow, rhythmic pulse around her hand. The crowd's voices crashed like a storm, their noise feeding the heat in her veins.

Then... she moved.

In one blinding flash of mana, Miyu lunged forward, the ground beneath her feet fracturing as she drove her palm outward. The force struck Eran square in the chest, a concussive blast tearing through the air.

He was sent flying.

His body slammed against the far end of the stage, dust and shards of stone scattering outward from the impact. The roar of the crowd followed instantly... wild and chaotic, their cheers echoing like thunder inside the dome.

"Did you see that!?" "She sent him flying again!"

"Commoner or not.. he should just stay down!"

Miyu's eyes followed him as he landed, her chest rising and falling with quick, steady breaths. To anyone watching, it looked like domination. But inside, she was trying to hold herself still, her mana pulsing in quiet restraint beneath her skin.

Across the stage, Eran stirred.

He exhaled slowly, the sound barely audible under the chaos. His fingers pressed against the cracked floor as he forced himself upright once more, brushing dust and blood from his sleeve with deliberate calm.

Perfect, he thought, lips twitching faintly into a knowing grin.

The sudden impact had done exactly what he needed—space.

Distance meant time.

Time meant cover.

And for the first time since the match began, he could breathe.

"Definitely…" he muttered under his breath, golden eyes narrowing. "Miyu just gave me what I needed."

He knew deploying a mere flicker of mana—a move so simple it would make the crowds burst into laughter at the commoner's lack of power—was his only viable choice. It was the weakest thing, yet it was the only maneuver that afforded him a slight chance, thanks entirely to Selene working the jurisdiction table.

He rolled his shoulder once, steadying himself as a faint shimmer of golden mana flickered along his arm.. brief, restrained, and unseen by most of the crowd.

They were too busy laughing.

"Look at him, pretending to fight back!"

"That flicker? Pathetic!"

"He'll embarrass himself even more!"

Eran's tipped his head back and let a clam, calculated grin spread across his face.

And if he played this just right as he thought, that flicker would be all it took to turn the whole arena on its head.

The murmurs grew louder, rippling through the arena like restless waves.

Mocking laughter echoed against the stone pillars as nobles jeered from every corner.

"What was that? A flicker?"

"He's really trying now—hah!"

"Even a spark can't save a commoner!"

Their words spilled across the air like venom.

Eran's faint golden glow pulsed once more... small, fragile, almost pitiful to the eyes of the crowd. He stood in still defiance, his face unreadable, letting them believe exactly what they wanted.

And Miyu saw it.

Her gaze lingered on him for a long, quiet moment. The way his hand moved deliberately slow, how his stance wasn't of weakness but of someone weaving something precise behind the laughter.

It hit her then—what he was doing.

Playing them.

Her lips parted before she could stop herself, a whisper slipping out so softly only the arena dust could've heard it.

"My king…"

The words flushed heat to her face, but she didn't let it show. She stepped forward, catching the crowd's attention as her robe swept across the cracked floor.

They roared again at her movement, drunk on the show.

Miyu smirked faintly, her violet eyes flickering with knowing light as she glanced once at Eran. He met her stare—just for a second... and that was enough.

Understanding passed between them like a silent current.

He'd play the fool.

She'd play the predator.

And together, they'd play everyone else.

Miyu's voice rang through the air, clear and sharp as her mana shimmered faintly around her palm.

"Hey…" she called, tone cutting through the laughter, teasing, amused.

"What do you think you're doing?"

Eran tilted his head just slightly, the faint flicker of golden mana still alive between his fingers.

"You really think," Miyu continued, her tone mock-sweet, "that a single flicker like that could ever reach me?"

She let out a low chuckle, stepping closer, the stage vibrating faintly beneath her boots. "I'll give you all the time you need… Come at me."

The crowd erupted.

"You heard her!"

"She's toying with him now!"

"He's done for... just look at him!"

Laughter rippled again, drowning the air.

But between the noise, between the flashes of violet and gold, the two of them stood locked in the same invisible thread—

A shared smirk, a hidden plan, and game no one else could see.

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