The Sanctum of Holy Spirits sprawled wide, its halls rising like varied peaks around a calm lake. It wasn’t gilded in gaudy gold, nor crushingly grand, yet it breathed with the hills and water around it. Its age hung like moss on ancient stone, a weight of history lingering like incense.

The sanctum housed several arenas, stone rings like still ponds for sparring or settling storms.

As they walked, Lingxiao and Lingsaki drank in the views, smiles blooming like spring flowers across their faces.

"This place is great," Lingxiao said, "the scenery is clear and the air like a pine-cool stream."

"The elements and Laws are thick as morning mist, almost the Central Continent."

"It’s a notch below the Daynight Sanctuary, sure, but it’s still very good," Lingsaki nodded, moonlight on water.

"If you’re satisfied, good," Celia Maya smiled, like sun through leaves. The Sanctum is the Dragon Realm’s best place to train magic. Since you’ve learned the lay of the land, let’s sort lodging.

Sorting lodging didn’t take long; the maids handled chores like a quiet tide. Celia also had every piece in their chosen house replaced with new, the wood smelling like fresh rain.

Few had the right to live here, though years still left traces like old footprints. How could heirs of the Mizumi Clan touch used furniture? That would be a slight, like dust on jade.

Even as their instructor, Celia had to give highest treatment, like rolling out a carpet of cloud. It wasn’t her whim, but a Dragon Realm rule, like law carved in stone. If one of the Mizumi Clan comes, every region must bow like bamboo in wind; truth be told, the whole world does.

The Sanctum’s largest arena lit as they entered, the vast floor array waking like a coiled dragon, and a ward rose like glass. Saint Cole had laid it himself, to keep duels from scarring others or the scenery, like a hedge around a garden.

"Seeing beats hearing," Celia said. "I’ve heard much of your strength, Lingxiao and Lingsaki, yet I haven’t seen it with my own eyes."

Her plan mirrored the Crimson Dragon Heart’s, like an echo answering in a mountain hall.

"Before training starts, I want to feel your true power. I’ll cap myself at early Overdeity. Rest easy."

"That’s necessary," Lingxiao said, calm as a leveled scale. "Only a clear measure lets us tailor the blade to the hand."

"Same here," Lingsaki added, hands folding like petals. "If we offend in the exchange, please forgive it."

They had no objections; excitement stirred like birds before a storm. A full-force fight was a rare feast, like meat roasting under cold stars.

"No problem," Celia nodded, her smile like pale moonlight. "Use any spell at full tilt, no hesitation."

"But no elixirs or potions. I need to know your edge."

"Understood. We use elixirs only in dire peril, like a last raft, and rarely otherwise."

"Top-tier divine elixirs and potions have no side effects, sure, but overuse breeds reliance, like soft mud underfoot. We know the risk."

"Good. No delay. Let’s begin."

As her words fell, elements and Laws surged to Celia Maya’s palm like a storm tide. A lavish wand formed, runes like coiling constellations, and a Divine Spirit Stone blazed at its tip like a caged star. By grade it was a top-tier divine artifact, brushing the edge of a Semi Origin Artifact.

The Dual Daynight Tomes around Lingxiao and Lingsaki flared in answer, radiance of Laws circling them like twin halos.

With no potions allowed, they couldn’t spam powerhouse spells like in Sette City; now they had to count every breath like misers of mana.

At the bell, they cast Flight—Wings of Wind—and rose into the air like swallows, gaining room to move and slip away.

"Heavenly Chains!"

"Night: Bewildering Mire."

They opened with probes. The floor under Celia melted into a corrosive swamp shrouded in fog, and from above, chains fell like iron rain.

Celia stayed calm, her steps a strange cadence like drifting water, and she lifted her wand with lazy grace. Brilliance burst forth like a beast unleashed, devouring the marsh and the falling chains in one gulp.

But the sisters’ assault didn’t end; from above, arrows of light and swords of darkness poured down, a magic rainstorm drumming the ground.

"Good move," Celia said, voice cool as snow. "Power and spread are solid, but the gaps are too generous." She sketched a Water Cloud Mirror, a circle covering ten meters like a floating lake.

"Water Mirror: Reflection."

While rain hammered it, the mirror flung back half the strikes like a bright shield, but the sisters were gone like smoke.

Then the sky bloomed with ten dark‑violet arrays in a rush, forming a vast ring like a crown. At its heart hung a colossal Daylight Sacred Sword, while raw light and darkness Laws warped space like heat haze.

Celia tried to slip the lock, but it held like a hook; the range covered most of the arena, so she braced to take it.

"Magnificent," she murmured. "Flashing Aurora."

Dozens of magic orbs gathered around her like stars, each swelling with breath.

"Darknight: Daylight Sacred Sword!"

From the arrays, ten colossal light pillars slammed down, savage and sealing, ready to snarl spells. The Sacred Sword fell between them like a thunderblade, and nearby space trembled like a drum.

At that instant, every orb by Celia turned to a thick laser cannon, roaring upward like spears of noon.

BOOM! The lasers met the pillars and the sword, and the blast ripped sky and earth like a cracking world.

While dust and mist still boiled like storm surf, Celia shaped two spears from light and dark, white and black like twin fangs. She fixed the sisters’ position and hurled them hard, the throws like lightning off a cliff.

"What? That magic surge is too strong… not good!"

"We need to defend, now."

Fresh from casting an early Overdeity spell, they couldn’t recover in time, and missed the best window to dodge. They could only throw up a hard defense, like a shield raised against a storm.

...