The courtyard held its breath.
All eyes were on the two sisters now standing at opposite ends of the battle stage—Serena Valen, the disgraced daughter, and Alina Valen, the cherished star. Their long hair danced in the wind, and neither flinched.
But beneath their stillness, old wounds festered.
"Final match of the round," Elder Thalor called out, his voice unusually steady. "Serena Valen versus Alina Valen. Essence Vein Stage 3 versus Stage 6. Begin."
The moment he spoke, Alina moved.
A blade of wind shot forward, condensed and precise. Serena sidestepped with a practiced calm, her footwork tighter than ever. She didn't summon her weapon—no scythe in sight. Instead, her palm shimmered with Wind Qi.
"Sweeping Gale Palm."
The wind roared from her strike, not nearly as refined as Alina's, but stronger than expected. It collided with Alina's second wave of Wind Qi midair, the two forces canceling each other out in a storm of dust and force.
Alina narrowed her eyes. She had expected this to be over in a few moves.
But Serena kept moving.
A second Sweeping Gale Palm—this one more focused, with better form—slammed toward Alina's side. Alina twisted her body, taking the hit along her shoulder, then retaliated with a gust that cut into Serena's arm. Both girls stumbled back, wounded.
For a moment, the crowd was silent.
Alina rushed in again, unleashing a flurry of wind-based jabs that should've overwhelmed Serena. But Serena dodged just barely each time—slipping between the gusts, absorbing minor grazes while setting up her own rhythm.
She wasn't stronger.
But she was adapting.
Her mastery over a single palm technique and sheer unpredictability kept Alina guessing.
The fight dragged out longer than expected.
And just as Alina prepared her finishing move—
She overstepped.
A crack in her stance. Serena caught it.
With one last Sweeping Gale Palm, she struck Alina square in the chest while using the momentum of a dodge to twist her weight. Alina fell backward, rolling across the platform.
Both were panting, injured.
Serena wobbled, blood seeping from her shoulder.
Alina rose to her knees, clutching her chest.
Elder Thalor's voice rose: "Serena Valen is vict—"
"NO!" Alina screamed.
She leapt forward.
Serena had turned away, already beginning to step down from the stage. She wasn't prepared. The wind howled as Alina gathered one last reckless strike.
Serena's eyes widened.
Her body reacted instinctively.
Something dark pulsed.
A shockwave exploded from Serena's form—silent and suffocating, like the sudden drop in air before a storm. Alina was thrown backward, crashing into the platform's edge. The attack hadn't come from her hands.
It came from within.
The area where Serena stood shimmered with black wisps. Cold. Shadowed. Dark energy oozed from her core before quickly retracting.
Silence.
A silence so loud, it thundered in every heart watching.
Whispers followed. Then gasps.
"That's… darkness…"
"She used a dark element! That's forbidden—!"
"Is she a—"
Serena stood frozen on the platform. Her body trembled slightly from exhaustion… and something else.
Fear?
No.
Realization.
Her secret was out.
The crowd didn't know the scythe, nor the system. But this—they saw. And in Etheria, darkness wasn't just rare.
It was cursed.
Serena raised her head slowly.
Her gaze swept across the murmuring crowd, then locked onto Alina, who now sat pale and stunned against the platform wall.
Then she turned—and walked off the stage.
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