49 ~ Even the One Who Refused to Strive Was Denied

Teresa attempted to use Divine Appraisal to analyze the exact functions of Astrid’s Divine Authority and domain. But the moment she activated it, her scalp tingled—the sheer density of the text in the description window made her feel as if her skull was being pierced by silver needles.

Line after line of elegant, flowing Elvish script stabbed into her mind, making her want to cry.

It was far more complicated than Felicia’s Divine Authority—so complex that her current level of mental strength couldn't even parse it. In the end, she had no choice but to give up.

Silver moonlight bloomed as the elf girl danced, her blade tracing an elegant arc in the air.

Laini knew that whether she wanted to or not, the battle had already begun. She raised her shield in defense.

The silver flame exploded on the wolf-headed leather shield, scattering sparks. That noble, moonlight-hued fire bore down like an overwhelming tide, sneering at the leather-clad girl who dared to resist.

The wolf eyes on the shield glowed crimson. At the same time, a dull gray sheen climbed across Laini’s skin—a resistance to the moonfire.

But that faint layer of resistance was too weak beneath Astrid’s overwhelming strike. It was practically useless.

This was a Divine Authority strike. Even if Laini’s shield was also formed from Divine Authority, the difference in both bloodline and Authority level was simply too vast.

As expected, Laini was blasted away by the sweeping arc of the slash, tumbling across the arena floor and kicking up clouds of dust.

Moments later, the Wild Divine Princess lay motionless on the ground.

Astrid slowly lowered her blade. She hadn’t used her full strength—hadn’t even used a fifth of her power.

Seeing the girl who hadn’t lasted even one move, Teresa sighed softly in the stands.

“Victory has been decided—Astrid Oleniman is the wi—”

“Wait, wait a second!”

Just as Astrid turned to leave and the referee prepared to announce the result, a stubborn voice suddenly rang out.

Every eye turned to the girl who was slowly, painfully rising to her feet.

Laini’s leather armor was charred and ruined. Her domain was nearly destroyed. A deep, blackened burn marred her exposed skin.

And this—was after Astrid had held back.

Yet even so, Laini still stood, driven solely by her refusal to surrender.

“I... haven’t lost yet... Don’t go...”

Her eyes at that moment were filled with powerful emotion—stubbornness, defiance, confusion—but for once, no longer dominated by inferiority or weakness.

What filled her now... was unwillingness.

The walls built by bloodline and heritage had carved an unbridgeable chasm before her. But she refused to accept that.

She refused to believe that no matter how hard she worked, she couldn’t survive a single strike from a real Divine Princess.

Was this fate’s way of telling her that effort didn’t matter?

Whether she tried or not, she’d still be felled in one blow—so had all her sweat and blood been meaningless? Had she gained nothing at all?

As a Wild Divine Princess, she had nothing. All she could cling to, all she could hope for, was hard work. And if even that was denied her...

Then truly, she had nothing.

So—she couldn’t fall. She wouldn’t fall after just one strike!

She picked up her sword and shield. Maybe there was nothing worthy about her from head to toe—but she refused to let even her effort be invalidated!

Fueled by this unwillingness to yield, Laini charged again toward Astrid.

“Don’t—don’t you dare look down on me—!”

Astrid, clearly not expecting Laini to stand again, hesitated.

Elves' empathy and her sensitive perception allowed her to feel Laini’s crushing, suffocating desire not to lose. A complex light flickered in her crimson-purple eyes.

Watching her opponent charge again, Astrid raised her crescent blade once more.

She understood—what Laini needed wasn’t pity, but recognition. So she wouldn’t hold back this time.

The second slash fell.

And the match ended.

Laini lost—as everyone expected. And she lost completely.

But in the spectator stands, not a single person mocked her.

Because they had all seen the terrifying will burning in her eyes—and when they searched their own hearts, few could say they’d have the strength to stand up after one of Astrid’s strikes.

To charge once more toward an insurmountable wall.

The arena fell silent.

“May the Mother Goddess bless you,” Astrid murmured, watching as Laini was carried away.

She knew—Laini had gotten the answer she was looking for.

Look. Effort wasn’t entirely meaningless, was it?

If she hadn’t trained, hadn’t worked hard, she would never have stood back up after that first blow.

Laini hadn’t wanted to surpass anyone or defeat anyone.

She just wanted proof that her effort meant something. That was all.

She watched Laini’s figure disappear, then finally turned and left the arena. Her silvery moonlit hair danced in the wind. Just like when she arrived, she ignored the cheers, ignored those who wished to share in her victory.

The match was over.

She was going home.

But the referee’s next announcement halted her steps.

“Third match of the afternoon: Irene Cardifen versus Teresa! Will both participants please prepare. The match will begin in ten minutes!”

...Teresa?

Hearing that familiar name, Astrid slowly turned her head, glancing down at the silver moon emblem glowing faintly on the back of her hand. Her sharp elf senses picked out a small blonde girl in the audience—one she had only met once.

It was her.

If she was here—Then why wasn’t he here...?

Was it because he didn’t want to see her?

Teresa shook her head as if in response to Astrid’s imagined thoughts and hopped down from her seat.

It had to happen eventually.

Let’s go.

Time to get beaten up.

She really didn’t care about what the crowd would say—“Another Wild Divine Princess?” or whatever. She wasn’t a Divine Princess in the first place. Bloodline, pedigree? Meaningless.

To be honest, watching Bryn and Laini get beaten up had made Teresa think about her own turn.

She didn’t need to empathize with them—because soon, she’d be experiencing that same sense of helplessness for herself.

“Your Highness, are you leaving already?”

“There’s no point in staying if Astrid-sama won’t be watching the rest of the matches,” Felicia said with a small smile.

“True, that’s fair... eh? Wait, Felicia-sama, look! Astrid-sama hasn’t left! She even found a seat!”

“You must be mistaken. That’s impossi—huh?”

Noticing the commotion nearby, Felicia froze.

“Could it be... Astrid-sama is interested in the next match?”

With that thought in mind, Felicia glanced at the arena staff cleaning up the field.

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