Before each student performed, there was a waiting period, an hour in which the academies prepared. During that time, every participant was asked to state what they would need in order to properly showcase their skills.
For Safa, this had been a difficult task. Healing wasnât flashy like fire or lightning, nor could it be easily measured in front of a crowd. To truly demonstrate the breadth of her ability, she would need a long line of injured people, or perhaps even someone hovering on the edge of death. Only then could she show how powerful her light magic really was.
But neither of those options was practical. Injured volunteers were not so easy to come by, and no one was going to provide someone near death just to prove her worth. In the end, Safa had settled on a compromise. She would use Piba. He would create a wound for himself, and she would heal it. Simple.
The truth was, light magic on its own wasnât especially impressive. Plenty of students could wield it. What made Safa unique, the true reason Wilton Academy had chosen her, was her god eyes.
The question was: how to prove them?
She could ask the teachers to set up elaborate traps and then reveal their sources one by one, the way she had done during her little test. But in a public arena, wouldnât people just cry foul? Wouldnât they claim it was staged? Even with her glowing eyes, proving their ability would require repeated demonstrations, too many, too tedious, and too easy to doubt.
So Safa had sat quietly, watching the other students display their power. And as she did, an idea took root.
"You donât have to do what we planned," Safa whispered to Piba, her voice calm but firm. "Iâve thought of something else."
The confidence in her eyes was enough. Piba gave a small nod, stepping back. Whatever she had in mind, he would let her carry it out.
When Safa walked out to the center of the arena, she could feel the crowdâs energy, or rather, the lack of it. She had been placed last, and by now the audienceâs curiosity had faded. To them, the real show was already over. Everything after was just filler, a final performance before they went home.
Some leaned in half-interested, curious only because no one had yet explained how Wilton Academy had managed to outscore the others during the first assessment. But mostly, there was an air of boredom.
Until Safa spoke.
"I would like to request that Nannan, from Central Academy, come out!"
The words rang through the arena like a spark to dry kindling.
The shift in atmosphere was instant. Gasps rippled through the crowd, followed by excited murmurs. A student calling out another student, directly, and in front of everyone. This wasnât supposed to be a battle. The event wasnât designed for head-to-head clashes between academies. But now? Now, there was a chance for something far more interesting.
"She specifically called out a Central Academy student? That canât be random."
"This has to be on purpose. Thereâs no way it isnât!"
The dull air of routine was gone, replaced with a new kind of energy, sharp, eager, waiting.
"Right, like a challenge from Wilton to Central Academy!" someone shouted from the crowd, their excitement carrying through the arena. "This is getting good. And here I thought Central Academy would just dominate everything, like theyâve done in all the other events."
Whispers spread quickly, all of them circling the same realization. Safa hadnât called out just anyone, she had called out
Nannan.
Of course, Nannan could refuse. This wasnât meant to be a head-to-head duel. But if a Central Academy student declined the challenge in front of a crowd this large? It would make them look weak. Frightened.
And with the position Central Academy was in, standing as the clear favorites, they had no choice. They had to accept.
Reluctantly, Nannan stepped forward, her usual confidence dulled by suspicion. She stood across from Safa, her eyes narrowed.
"I donât know what youâre planning," Nannan said coldly. "But you canât just attack other students in this event. Just because youâre jealous doesnât mean you can act out."
Safaâs expression didnât waver. Her voice was calm, almost gentle, but carried enough weight to echo in the hushed arena.
"Right. Iâm not asking for a fight. Just do me a favor. Turn invisible. Keep it up for as long as you can, and head somewhere in the arena where no one can see you."
Nannan stiffened. Every instinct screamed to refuse, but the eyes of thousands were on her. If she backed down now, it wouldnât just be her pride at stake; it would be Central Academyâs reputation.
So, with a reluctant breath, Nannan let her power flow. In an instant, her form shimmered and vanished from sight. The crowd leaned forward, watching eagerly for what Safa had in mind.
Safa closed her eyes briefly, drawing magic inward. When they opened again, her irises glowed softly, radiant light gathering in her pupils, the sign of her god eyes.
The moment the glow appeared, Principal Ibarin shot to his feet, his voice carrying sharp and frantic across the stands.
"That canât be! Those eyes... she canât have them. The last person with those was
Idore!
"
Gasps rippled through the crowd, but Safa ignored them. Calmly, she stepped across the arena, her gaze cutting through the veil of invisibility. She stopped, lifted her hand, and without hesitation reached out, her fingers closing firmly on a shoulder.
Nannan flickered back into existence.
"Youâre right here," Safa said simply.
The arena erupted in disbelief.
Nannanâs invisibility, once considered untouchable, had been pierced as if it were nothing. The ability everyone had deemed unstoppable suddenly seemed far less impressive under the light of Safaâs god eyes.
"How, how did you find me?" Nannanâs voice cracked, panic breaking through her usual poise. "You mustâve gotten lucky! Letâs try again!"
She shoved Safaâs arm off and vanished once more.
But this time, Safa didnât just walk. Her glowing eyes tracked every movement, every step Nannan took in her invisible sprint. The crowd gasped as Safa followed seamlessly, her focus locked like a hawk on prey.
Nannan darted left, right, circling the arena, her form unseen but her movements betrayed by Safaâs relentless gaze. Then, one leap.
With a burst of Qi-enhanced strength, Safa launched forward, her hand snapping out with precision. Her grip closed tight, dragging Nannan back into visibility mid-run.
"Now, thatâs not fair, is it?" Safa said coolly, her hand still locked on Nannan. "You had your turn. This is my show."
*****
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