The passengers braced against the force as the plane taxied down the runway. After about ten seconds, it finally came to a complete stop.

Yichen glanced out the window—blue sky, white clouds, towering coconut trees. Just looking at it, he could almost taste the crisp, clean air.

As Yichen and the others stepped off the plane, over ten people approached to greet them. Except for the two leaders in distinct uniforms, the rest wore white outfits that marked them as students.

"Your Excellency Shirley, Your Excellency Claire," a middle-aged man said politely, stepping forward. Of average height like Yichen, slightly round-faced with circular glasses, he wore an ornate red uniform that spoke of high status despite his unassuming appearance. "On behalf of Halsien Academy, I sincerely welcome you. Such a long journey—you must be exhausted."

"Hello, Principal Long," Zixuan replied courteously from the front. His title confirmed he was indeed the academy’s head.

Principal Long turned to Yichen and Shiyue. "You must be Lin Yichen and Shiyue Zhao?"

"...Yes."

Both were startled he knew their names. Shiyue hid her surprise, but Yichen stared openly at the principal. Unfazed, Long beamed and extended his hand. "Haha! I’m Long Ao, principal of Halsien Academy. Welcome!" He shook both their hands.

*(Why not ‘Long Heaven’? Such a grand name for such an ordinary face.)* Yichen thought wryly during the handshake.

Long then addressed Zixuan. "Your Excellency Shirley, the Martial Arts Festival finals are about to begin. Shall we proceed to the venue?"

Zixuan nodded.

A tall woman in her twenties approached—shoulder-length wavy black hair, sharp features, clad in the same ornate red uniform. Two girls in blue followed her. "Lin Yichen, Shiyue Zhao," she said warmly, "I’m Vice Principal Shangguan Minhui. Please give your luggage to them. They’ll take it to your quarters."

"Thank you," Yichen and Shiyue replied in surprised unison, handing over their bags.

Shangguan chuckled softly at their expressions. "No need to look so shocked. I’m quite a bit older than you."

"How old exactly?" Yichen blurted.

"Tsk tsk," Shangguan chided, dark miasma swirling behind her. "Asking a lady’s age is terribly rude."

Yichen snapped his mouth shut.

After loading the luggage, they boarded waiting cars. Moving slowly through campus, Yichen observed the scenery. Unlike Skyvoid Academy’s lush greenery, Halsien’s landscape was dominated by sleek blue-and-white buildings. The wide roads and futuristic architecture gave the uncanny feeling of stepping into tomorrow.

"Lin Yichen," Principal Long called from the front seat, "what do you think of our campus?"

"The roads are very wide. But why are most buildings spherical?"

"Heh," Long chuckled. "We’re in the Pacific’s heart—typhoons and tornadoes hit often. This shape withstands them best."

"R-right," Yichen agreed stiffly, sweat beading on his forehead at the thought.

Ten minutes later, they arrived before a colossal Bird’s Nest-like structure. Inside, Yichen whispered to Zixuan, "Sister, where is this?"

"The academy’s central arena. The Martial Arts Festival finals are held here."

"Oh... Why do they call you ‘Shirley’?"

"Shirley Estes—my registered name in the Soul Force Wielder world."

"I never knew."

"Convenience," Zixuan said dismissively.

Suddenly, she grabbed Yichen’s hand.

"Sister!?" He instinctively tried to pull away, but she held firm.

"Yichen. Keep holding my hand."

"But—"

Their commotion drew glances from Principal Long and Vice Principal Shangguan. Both widened their eyes, then deliberately looked away. Yichen’s face flushed crimson. Claire beside Zixuan glared daggers at him. From Shiyue’s direction, an icy chill radiated.

Emerging from the tunnel into the arena, Yichen froze. Before him stretched a massive open-air square stage. The stands held not thousands—but tens of thousands.

"WHOOOOOOOAAAAAH!!!"

A tidal wave of cheers crashed over him. Shiyue beside him wore an identical look of awe.

Then Yichen realized where the cheers were directed.

Zixuan offered a polite smile, waving lightly to the crowd.

When they noticed her holding Yichen’s hand, the cheers fractured into shocked murmurs.

"Who’s that guy?"

"Why’s he holding Lady Shirley’s hand?"

"Damn! Who does he think he is?!"

Tens of thousands of sharp stares pinned Yichen. His breath hitched.

"Please, this way," Principal Long gestured. They took seats in the VIP section—three rows deep. Yichen and Zixuan sat center-front, Shiyue and Claire flanking them. The principals settled behind.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" A woman’s amplified voice boomed across the arena. "Welcome to the Halsien Martial Arts Festival finals! I’m your host, Lilim! First—a huge thank-you to our honored guests, Lady Shirley and Lady Claire, for gracing us today!"

Deafening cheers erupted.

"Sister," Yichen hissed under the noise, "you can let go now." The weight of envious stares had multiplied exponentially. He wanted to bolt.

"No."

Zixuan’s stubbornness made his eye twitch. He nearly choked out how he was being murdered by jealousy. Instead, she looped her arm through his and leaned against his shoulder—like a girlfriend snuggling up for a movie.

"EHHHHH—*cough cough*!" Lilim’s shriek cut through the arena, making everyone clap hands over their ears. "Ahem! The moment we’ve all waited for! Let’s welcome our finalists!"

Two doors slid open at opposite ends of the stage.

From the left strode a tall boy with swept-back golden hair, sharp features, and hawk-like eyes.

From the right came a girl with violet hair tied in a high ponytail. Delicate yet fiercely determined, her upturned eyes burned with willpower. Both wore Halsien’s blue uniforms, radiating confidence.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" Lilim announced. "On the left: Thomas Pike! Third-year high schooler! Wielder of the single-handed Soul Weapon—Blazing Sun! B-Rank Soul Force Wielder! After an early exit last year, Thomas has dominated this tournament with flawless swordsmanship—every match a masterpiece! On the right: Clarmi Roger! Also third-year! Wielder of the twin crimson short swords—Cleaving Moon! Five years ago, she awakened her Soul Power in the ordinary world and joined Halsien. This is her fifth Martial Arts Festival—and her first finals appearance! Can she seize the crown? Let’s find out!"

Both finalists bowed toward the VIP section. Yichen caught Thomas’s gaze flick toward him—a look that made his skin crawl.

A translucent, liquid-like barrier rose around the stage, forming a protective dome.

"Quick rules reminder!" Lilim called. "To protect fighters and spectators, Soul Power output must not exceed C-Rank. Exceeding it means instant disqualification. Touching the barrier or having your Soul Power shield pierced also means defeat. Fighters—ready!"

Thomas summoned Blazing Sun—a slender silver longsword with a golden hilt.

Clarmi manifested Cleaving Moon—twin crimson blades, part knife, part sword, with wicked hand-guards.

They assumed stances. Thomas stood calm and poised, like a master swordsman. Clarmi coiled like a predator about to strike.

"BEGIN!"

Lilim’s cry unleashed a roar from the crowd. Thomas and Clarmi exploded toward each other.