What was Lumine supposed to do in this situation?
From the very moment they entered the forest, they had already started fighting among themselves over who would take the lead.
The blonde-haired girl, Lisa, and the bulky, tall guy with auburn hair, Leonne, had no objections. In fact, they even favored Lumine as their leader.
But the problem wasn't with those two—it was the other two.
Max Blackthorne, with his short black hair and piercing purple eyes, stood as an heir to the Blackthorne Clan, one of the lesser clans allied to the Great Dusk Clan. He refused to follow Lumine or anyone else, insisting he should be the leader. Ranked 16th among the first years, his arrogance radiated. And then there was the girl. Anastasia. A cold, aloof figure who stood at the same height as Max and Lumine. Her long white hair, resembling the snow-capped mountains, contrasted sharply with her piercing dark blue eyes—the depths of the ocean itself. Ranked fifth among the first years.
While Max wore an expression of barely contained rage, Anastasia remained composed, her gaze as cold and indifferent as the winter winds. The sight of her was enough to make Lisa and Leonne uneasy.
It was incredibly difficult for Lisa and Leonne to get involved in the conflict between Anastasia and Max.
While Anastasia was ranked higher, there was nothing known about her—not even her last name.
And then there was Max. He was capable, no doubt. But the fact that he was from a lesser clan made even Lumine hesitate.
What exactly was a lesser clan?
Lesser clans were those allied with one of the four great clans.
But how did one even form a lesser clan? Lumine wasn't part of one.
To establish a lesser clan, one had to be acknowledged by the government or by one of the four great clans. They had to achieve something significant, either as a soldier, a soldier of one of the four great clans, or perhaps even as a hero in a guild. Only then could one form their own clan—but a lesser clan, bound by an alliance with one of the four great clans.
Most of the heads of lesser clans were retired soldiers or heroes, but it was still possible for them to hold such a position while active, as long as they could manage both roles.
The Blackthorne Clan was one of the more well-known lesser clans in WASC. Neither Lumine, Lisa, nor Leonne wanted to provoke them. Offending Max, their heir, could bring danger to their families.
"So, what will you do? I'd rather not waste more of my breath on someone as weak as you."
The sound of Max's teeth grinding echoed in the tense silence.
But after a few moments, Max took a deep breath, calming himself. His anger faded, replaced with a cold, calculating look that mirrored Anastasia's.
"Very well," he said. "You wish not to waste any more of your breath, right? Let's have a duel. The winner becomes the leader."
Anastasia raised an eyebrow, her face softening for a fraction of a second, before the cold mask returned. She nodded, preparing to speak—but before she could, Lumine interrupted.
"I hope it's okay if I compete for the role of leader too?"
Instantly, every head snapped toward him.
Anastasia and Max narrowed their eyes, clearly unimpressed. Max scoffed.
"Listen," he said, his voice colder than before, "I acknowledge your talent, Cadet Lumine, but don't think that someone one level above me is impossible to beat."
"Do you think your swordsmanship is on par with mine? Do you have a Soul Armor stronger than mine, or a sword art that rivals mine? Lesser clans might not rival the great clans, but we are still above you—no clan."
Lumine could see it clearly in those purple eyes. There was arrogance there. Confidence. Perhaps Max had the skill to back it up.
Lumine understood that, but what he couldn't understand was the way Anastasia's cold blue eyes regarded him. They held the same kind of confidence as Max's—no.
It was far colder. Far more overwhelming.
Like an azure snake, slowly coiling around his body.
Lumine couldn't comprehend it, but something about the way she looked at him stirred a memory—a feeling he couldn't shake.
It reminded him of Azriel.
Azriel, who always held a quiet, unwavering confidence, as if he could do anything—anywhere, anytime. It wasn't just Lumine who thought that. His classmates liked to gossip, and Azriel was always a favorite topic.
But recently, their gossip had shifted. They now spoke of Azriel as if he were a god. Someone beyond their reach. Someone not of their world. He was on an entirely different level.
Even Lumine couldn't help but feel inferior in his presence.
So then... who was she?
Who was this girl called Anastasia, who carried herself with the same confidence as the Crimson Prince?
Yes, she was ranked fifth. But the gap between fifth and first was immense.
At least... that was what Lumine would have thought if not for the feeling deep in his gut—the warning that sent a shiver down his spine.
Those eyes... they triggered something in him. Every instinct screamed at him to flee.
Anastasia's icy voice sent a shiver down everyone's spine.
"The fact that you two base your strength on a mere number the academy assigns is already pathetic enough. I would be surprised if either of you could touch a strand of my hair before losing your entire arm."
A tense silence followed her words.
Max clenched his fists tightly, and in the next instant, a massive greatsword materialized in his hands.
Lumine did not hesitate. He summoned his long sword, gripping it tightly.
Then, suddenly, Anastasia's lips curved upward ever so slightly. Her hands moved gracefully, and two dark twin blades appeared in her grasp as she twirled them with fluid elegance.
Leonne and Lisa scrambled to move some distance away, not wanting to get caught up in the madness.
Anastasia placed both blades on her shoulders, and her smile widened.
"If the two of you can make even a single drop of blood leave my body," she said, "I will do whatever you desire."