The battlefield held its breath.
Snow drifted slowly through the cold northern air.
The winds whispered across the training grounds.
Hundreds of eyes remained fixed upon a single figure.
Lyra.
The ancient serpent stood amidst crimson-stained snow.
Blood trickled down her arms.
Cuts covered her body.
Her breathing was heavy.
Yet strangely.
She looked stronger than she had at the beginning of the battle.
The ten blood swords orbiting around her moved gracefully through the air.
Like crimson stars.
Like a constellation born from war itself.
Opposite her stood three newly advanced Masters.
Six Aura Swords floated around them.
Three warriors.
Six weapons.
One battlefield.
Nobody moved.
Nobody dared interrupt.
Because everyone present understood.
History was unfolding before their eyes.
The silver-haired Master slowly tightened his grip around his wooden sword.
The second Master lowered his stance.
The third Master narrowed his eyes.
All three felt it.
Pressure.
Not Aura pressure.
Presence.
The pressure generated by conviction.
The pressure generated by someone who had finally found their path.
Lyra slowly looked down.
Her wooden sword.
Cracks covered its surface.
The weapon that had accompanied her throughout weeks of training.
The weapon Kel had forced her to practice with endlessly.
The weapon that had suffered through thousands of corrections.
Its purpose had ended.
CRACK.
The final fracture appeared.
The blade broke apart completely.
Several fragments fell onto the blood-covered snow.
The spectators became silent.
Lyra stared at the broken remains.
Then smiled.
A small smile.
A grateful smile.
Before tossing the broken weapon aside.
The shattered wooden blade spun through the air.
Landing outside the arena.
The moment it left her hand.
One blood sword descended.
Slowly.
Gracefully.
As though answering its master's call.
Lyra extended her arm.
The crimson blade settled into her palm.
The instant her fingers wrapped around its handle...
The entire battlefield changed.
BOOOOOOM!!
The ground trembled.
The air shook.
The spectators staggered.
The nine remaining blood swords accelerated.
Orbiting around her.
Faster.
Sharper.
More dangerous.
The snow itself was torn apart by their movements.
One knight swallowed nervously.
"Why does it feel like she's stronger now?"
Another knight replied immediately.
"Because she is."
Nobody argued.
Because everyone felt it.
Earlier.
The blood swords were new.
Unstable.
Freshly born.
Now.
They had become part of her.
The silver-haired Master slowly exhaled.
Then smiled.
A genuine smile.
The smile of a swordsman standing before a worthy opponent.
"Ready?"
The second Master grinned.
"Let's find out."
The third Master lifted his sword.
"We attack together."
Both nodded.
Meanwhile.
Far beyond the battlefield.
Kel observed silently.
His expression remained calm.
Yet his eyes never left Lyra.
Deep beneath Scarder Lake.
Seiren watched as well.
"Interesting."
Kel didn't answer.
"She's adapting much faster than expected."
A brief pause.
Then Kel replied.
"No."
Seiren blinked.
"No?"
Kel's gaze remained fixed upon the battlefield.
"She's simply stopped resisting herself."
The Guardian smiled.
Because she understood exactly what he meant.
Back on the battlefield.
The battle resumed.
BOOM!!
The three Masters attacked simultaneously.
The battlefield exploded.
The center knight lunged forward.
The left knight flanked.
The right knight attacked from the blind spot.
Six Aura Swords descended.
Like meteors.
Like divine punishment.
Like executioners.
Lyra moved.
Not backward.
Forward.
BOOOOOOM!!
The collision shook the training grounds.
The blood sword in her hand met two Aura Swords directly.
Sparks erupted.
Shockwaves exploded outward.
Snow scattered into the sky.
The spectators shielded their eyes.
The battle instantly entered its highest intensity.
The silver-haired Master widened his eyes.
Fast.
Too fast.
The serpent woman moved differently now.
Not merely stronger.
Different.
Every movement flowed naturally.
No hesitation.
No wasted motion.
The nine orbiting blood swords moved independently.
One intercepted an Aura Sword.
Another attacked from the side.
Another defended.
Another pressured.
The battlefield became chaos.
Beautiful chaos.
Terrifying chaos.
The spectators struggled to follow.
Only flashes remained visible.
Crimson.
Silver.
Crimson.
Silver.
Again.
Again.
Again.
BOOOOM!!
The ground cracked.
Another collision.
BOOOOM!!
Another shockwave.
BOOOOM!!
Another.
The training grounds began resembling a battlefield between armies rather than four individuals.
Minutes passed.
Ten.
Twenty.
Thirty.
Still nobody gained advantage.
The three Masters attacked relentlessly.
Lyra responded relentlessly.
Blood stained the battlefield further.
Aura shattered the air.
The crowd watched in complete awe.
One younger knight finally whispered.
"How long has it been?"
Another replied.
"I don't know."
A third answered.
"I stopped counting."
The battle continued.
Forty minutes.
Then fifty.
Then sixty.
An entire hour.
One full hour of uninterrupted combat.
By now.
Even the Masters were exhausted.
Their breathing had become rough.
Sweat covered their bodies.
Their muscles screamed.
Yet they continued.
Because none of them wanted to stop.
Because none of them wanted this battle to end.
Then.
The decisive moment arrived.
The silver-haired Master attacked.
The second Master followed.
The third Master supported.
Six Aura Swords descended together.
The strongest combination attack they possessed.
Everything depended on this strike.
Everything.
The spectators held their breath.
Even Gareth stood.
Even Seiren became silent.
The six Aura Swords streaked through the sky.
Then...
Lyra smiled.
A calm smile.
A confident smile.
A victorious smile.
Her blood swords accelerated.
All nine.
The sword in her hand moved.
Not quickly.
Perfectly.
The crimson constellation expanded.
And for one brief moment...
Everyone saw it.
Not blood swords.
Not weapons.
A giant celestial serpent.
Formed from crimson stars.
Watching over its territory.
Protecting what belonged to it.
CRASH!!!
The first Aura Sword shattered.
The battlefield froze.
CRASH!!!
The second Aura Sword exploded.
The silver-haired Master's eyes widened.
CRASH!!!
The third.
CRASH!!!
The fourth.
CRASH!!!
The fifth.
CRASH!!!
The sixth.
Silence.
Absolute silence.
The six Aura Swords vanished into countless fragments of Aura.
The three Masters stood frozen.
Their strongest attack destroyed.
Their greatest weapons shattered.
Their breathing stopped.
The battlefield stopped.
Everything stopped.
Then.
Nine blood swords floated around the three knights.
One at the throat.
One at the heart.
One at the neck.
One behind.
Perfect positioning.
Perfect control.
Perfect victory.
The sword in Lyra's hand pointed toward the silver-haired Master.
The serpent woman stood quietly amidst the crimson battlefield.
Snow fell around her.
Blood stained her clothes.
Her golden eyes glowed beneath the winter sky.
The image engraved itself into every witness present.
A future legend.
A future story.
A future memory.
Then Lyra spoke.
Her voice calm.
Yet carrying throughout the entire training grounds.
"So?"
A smile appeared.
A beautiful smile.
A dangerous smile.
A victorious smile.
The blood swords pressed slightly closer.
"Do you surrender?"
Silence followed.
Then the silver-haired Master laughed.
Loudly.
Freely.
The second Master laughed as well.
Then the third.
All three lowered their weapons.
The silver-haired knight raised both hands.
"I surrender."
The second Master nodded.
"I surrender."
The third Master smiled.
"Completely."
The spectators erupted.
Cheers exploded across the training grounds.
Knights shouted.
Guards celebrated.
Veterans laughed.
Meanwhile.
Kel simply watched.
Quietly.
Calmly.
The same way he always did.
Because the battle had ended.
But something much greater had begun.
The birth of Lyra's own Sovereign.
The Crimson Constellation.