Spring break came, shorter this year due to the extended winter holiday. I took full advantage of the time, immersing myself in relentless training. The end-of-year festival loomed on the horizon, with the Sovereign's Tournament at its heart—a competition that would crown the strongest among us as the Sovereign.
The ultimate challenge.
And standing at the pinnacle was Lucifer Windward, the protagonist of this world. An unparalleled genius, even among a generation of prodigies. If I wanted to surpass him, I had no choice but to push myself beyond my limits.
Since rejecting Rose's confession, my focus had sharpened to a singular point—training. Every hour was spent drenched in sweat, muscles straining, and tendons stretched to their limits. I was consumed by the need to improve, to reach a higher level.
But if I couldn't make a leap, I would settle for a step forward.
And if not a step, then a mere inch.
Progress wasn't just a desire; it was a necessity. Every step forward was driven by the urgent need to become stronger. The stakes were too high for anything less.
Valerie's eyes narrowed, her sword twisting unnaturally, aiming for my neck with deadly precision. A strike like this would have overwhelmed me before.
But that was then.
Digging my foot into the ground, I used the momentum, not to resist but to flow with it, dodging her strike by a hair's breadth. My sword followed through, sweeping around from behind, poised to strike her down.
She raised her blade, ready to parry.
Or so she thought.
I invoked the Illusion Sword, twisting my momentum just enough to create a perfect gap between us.
[God Flash].
Lightning magic surged around my blade, crackling as it sliced through the air toward Valerie.
A grin spread across her lips as she countered, her sword arcing downward with devastating force.
BOOM!
The impact sent me flying across the room, crashing into the wall with a resounding thud.
"You're unfair," I muttered, dusting myself off and wincing at the bruises forming on my body.
"Come on, boy, you've gotten stronger," Valerie said, a hint of approval in her voice. "Even an <Integration>-ranker would've struggled with that angle. And you're just at the pinnacle of the silver core. But don't overdo it with your Gift. It's powerful, but you pushed yourself too far."
I nodded, noticing the subtle tremor in my arm. I had drained too much ambient mana for that last attack, and my body was feeling the strain.
"But when you reach the white core," Valerie continued, "you could become the Sovereign."
Her words bolstered my confidence, but I knew it wouldn't be that simple. Beating Lucifer wasn't just about reaching a higher rank; it was about surpassing a true prodigy, someone whose strength I understood all too well.
Valerie's encouragement, however, did ignite a flicker of hope within me.
I could beat him.
I had to.
Winning meant more than just glory—it meant securing the Ancient-grade artifact from the Windward treasury, something Lucifer's father had promised.
'I can't use Seraphim's Embrace in the tournament, though,' I thought, knowing the powerful artifact was off-limits.
'Well, it's only fair,' Luna chimed in mentally.
She was right. The rule prevented competitors from relying solely on their family's wealth and connections. Victory had to be earned through skill and strength alone.
Every student in Class A would soon receive an Ancient-grade artifact from their parents as a summer break gift. It was a common practice, a rite of passage for those of us destined to wield power.
While these artifacts would undoubtedly enhance my abilities, I knew I couldn't rely solely on them. True strength had to come from within.
I wrapped up my training session with Valerie, my breath coming in ragged gasps. Sweat clung to my skin, trickling down my face in uneven streams, the cool droplets mingling with the heat radiating from my overworked muscles. Each fiber in my body protested, reverberating with a dull, persistent ache that sank into my bones.
As I stepped into the cold shower, the icy water hit my skin like a thousand tiny needles, shocking my system back to life. The pain and exhaustion began to ebb away, replaced by a growing numbness that soothed my weary muscles.
'This world is full of monsters,' I thought wryly, the names of the strongest contenders flashing through my mind—Sun Zenith, Jack Blazespout, Lucifer Windward, Ren Kagu. Each one of them was a force to be reckoned with, and I couldn't afford to fall behind.
As I finished dressing, I caught my reflection in the mirror. The face staring back at me was a far cry from the one I had known before transmigrating here. My appearance had changed so profoundly that it almost felt like I was looking at a stranger.
When I first arrived, the transformation was jarring, but now, after six months in this world, the memories of my old self were fading, replaced by this new image. The once-familiar features had become distant echoes, and this face—sharp, angular, with eyes that held a depth they didn't before—was now the one I recognized.
'Too many questions and too few answers,' I thought as I reached for the elixir provided by Count Chase. The liquid inside the vial shimmered faintly, catching the light as I uncorked it. The smell of herbs and magic wafted up, a reminder of the power I needed to harness if I was to stand a chance against the monsters of this world.
I drank the elixir in one swift gulp, feeling the cool liquid slide down my throat before settling in my core. I quickly assumed a lotus position, closing my eyes to focus on the surge of energy within me. As the elixir took effect, I felt my mana channels expanding, like ancient, rusted gates creaking open after being long shut. The ambient mana in the air rushed toward me, eager to be drawn in, purified, and absorbed.
The process was both exhilarating and excruciating. My mana circulated through my body, spiraling and coiling as it passed through the expanding channels. Each rotation stripped away the impurities from my core, making the mana denser, purer. The silver layer that had begun shedding weeks ago was now thinning rapidly, almost translucent.
A sharp pain shot through my core as the last remnants of silver began to flake away, giving way to the pristine, blinding brilliance of white. My entire body trembled as the mana within me condensed further, a final push toward the breakthrough.
The air around me crackled with energy, the atmosphere charged as my core pulsed in response to the influx of power. I gritted my teeth, enduring the pressure as my body teetered on the brink. Then, with a final, explosive surge, the silver layer shattered completely, and my core radiated with the pure, iridescent glow of white mana.
A wave of power washed over me, and I exhaled deeply, my breath coming out in a misty plume as the ambient temperature dropped from the release of energy.
I had done it.
I reached <White>-rank.