The earlier elegance was still there, but now it carried an edge, something more aggressive layered beneath the beauty.

Bliss' calm expression finally cracked, her brows pulling together as a faint frown formed on her face.

Stanley didn't let up.

In the middle of another exchange, he suddenly maneuvered in a way that caught even seasoned eyes off guard.

His footwork twisted, his body turning with unnatural smoothness as he slipped past her guard.

In the next instant, he was behind her.

His sword flashed as he delivered a swift slash aimed directly at her back.

Bliss reacted immediately.

Even without turning to face him, she shifted to the side, her body moving on instinct honed through years of combat.

The blade passed by her, slicing through the air where she had been standing.

The sound of it whizzing past was sharp, close enough to draw a few sharp intakes of breath from the watching elites.

But before she could fully reset her stance, the sword vanished from behind her.

In the same heartbeat, it reappeared in front of her neck, the tip hovering dangerously close.

The transition was so fast it looked unreal, as if the blade had simply teleported.

Bliss' eyes widened in surprise, and she reacted on pure reflex.

Her hand snapped upward, and she raised her sword just in time, blocking the strike with a loud clang as steel met steel.

Stanley's lips curved into a smug smile at the sight.

Leaning in slightly, he muttered in a low voice, "I told you, instructor… you'll need to use your sword."

Gasps rippled through the other elites almost instantly. Shocked murmurs spread as eyes widened and heads turned toward the clash.

They spoke over one another, voices hushed but urgent, all focused on the same thing.

Stanley had forced Bliss to guard with her weapon!

That alone was enough to leave most of them stunned. It was a feat many of them had never achieved, no matter how hard they trained or how talented they believed themselves to be.

Bliss was known for how rarely she needed to draw her blade in earnest, especially against students.

Only a handful of third and fourth years, those considered extremely talented even among the elites, had ever managed to push her that far.

And even then, it had taken everything they had.

Stanley, however, was only a first-year elite.

And he had already done it.

The realization settled heavily over the crowd.

For many of them, it made them feel small, insignificant in comparison.

No matter how hard they trained, no matter how highly they thought of themselves, the gap between them and Stanley felt wider than ever.

Bliss frowned as she glanced at Stanley's smug expression, irritation flickering briefly in her eyes.

Their swords were pressed together now, locked in place as neither of them gave ground.

The air between them felt tense, the clash frozen in a momentary deadlock, steel against steel, as the class watched in excitement.

Without warning, Bliss pushed back against his blade.

The sudden force broke the deadlock instantly, and Stanley stumbled a step backward, his balance faltering as he was caught completely off guard.

His eyes widened slightly, surprise flashing across his face as his footing slipped for just a brief moment.

Bliss did not waste that opening.

She moved in smoothly, swinging her blade toward his neck in a clean, controlled arc.

The intent was clear, and the speed of the strike left no room for hesitation.

Stanley gnashed his teeth and reacted on instinct. His sword came up quickly, arms tensing as he prepared to block the incoming attack.

His focus narrowed, every thought centered on stopping that blade before it reached him.

But the attack never came.

Instead of following through, Bliss shifted her movement mid-swing.

Her blade dipped, and in the same fluid motion, her leg swept out toward his feet. The change was so sudden that Stanley didn't even have time to process it.

His balance broke completely.

His legs were knocked out from under him, and his body tilted awkwardly before crashing down onto the ground with a heavy thud.

The impact knocked the breath from his lungs, and before he could properly react, everything had already gone wrong.

He tried to push himself up, muscles straining as he moved to recover, but Bliss was faster.

Her foot snapped out sharply, striking his sword and sending it skidding out of his hand across the floor.

The metallic sound echoed as the weapon slid away, far beyond his reach.

Before he could even turn his head, Bliss stepped forward.

She placed one foot firmly on his chest, pinning him to the ground, and raised her blade, aiming it directly at his neck.

Her posture was calm, her grip steady, her expression unreadable.

"You lost, Stanley," she said.

Stanley gnashed his teeth, his gaze fixed on the foot pressing against his chest.

His hands clenched into fists at his sides, frustration and disbelief boiling inside him.

It was only a single foot, nothing flashy or overwhelming, yet it held him down completely.

No matter how much he strained, he couldn't move her even an inch.

His mind raced.

'We're both not using our class abilities… so how is she still… so strong?!' he thought.

The thought echoed over and over again, confusion mixing with anger.

He didn't understand it. By all logic, by everything he believed, this shouldn't have happened. And yet, there he was, flat on his back, weapon gone, defeat undeniable.

No matter how much he hated it, he couldn't deny the reality in front of him. He had lost.

Bliss lowered her blade and stepped back, removing her foot from his chest.

"You get easily carried away," she said calmly. "If this was a real fight… you'd be dead now."

Stanley remained on the ground for a moment longer, his jaw clenched so tightly it ached.

'Damn it… how could I lose like this…?'

The thought burned through his mind as he stared up at the ceiling, the sound of murmurs beginning to rise around him once more.

Stanley lay there for a brief moment longer, his chest rising and falling as his thoughts spiraled.

This was never how it was supposed to go.

From the start, he had been planning to win against her, or at the very least push her far beyond this point.

Even if outright victory had been unrealistic, he had been certain he could force her to acknowledge his skills in front of everyone watching.

That had been the goal.

If he could make her admit it, even indirectly, then the other elite students would have no choice but to follow.

The praises would come naturally, just like they always did. The attention he craved would return, stronger than before.

And his earlier blunder would disappear, since his amazing performance would overshadow it. All they would see was his strength.

But at the end of the day, he failed.

Not only did he lose, but he lost in the worst way possible.

He had been caught off guard, fooled by a simple shift in rhythm, punished for letting himself get carried away.

The realization gnawed at him, making his stomach twist unpleasantly.

To make things even worse, she had scolded him in front of the other elites. Not harshly, not loudly, but enough. Enough to shatter the image he had built in his head. The image of standing tall while the others watched in awe crumbled completely.

He couldn't even argue with her. As much as it burned, he knew she was right.

If that had been a real fight, if the stakes had been anything other than a lesson, he wouldn't be standing there thinking at all.

Stanley pushed himself up slowly, movements stiff as he rose to his feet.

He brushed the dust off his clothes, patting himself down more carefully than necessary, as if trying to restore some of his dignity through the motion.

He tried his best to maintain a calm expression, but his jaw kept clenching and unclenching so hard it seemed like it hurt.

He walked over and picked up his sword from where it had landed after being kicked away.

His grip tightened around the hilt as he lifted it, grounding himself in the familiar weight.

Without looking back, he turned and walked toward the other elites.

Each step felt heavier than the last, his senses painfully aware of the eyes following him, the unspoken thoughts lingering in the air.

As he walked away, Bliss watched him quietly. Her gaze lingered on his back, and her eyes flashed with a strange glint.

'What was that… that attack he did?'

The memory replayed vividly in her mind. The sword had vanished before her eyes, only to reappear in front of her neck in an instant.

It hadn't felt like a simple feint or a trick of speed. It had been something else. Almost like an illusion.

If her guard had been just a little off, if her reflexes had lagged for even a fraction of a second, Stanley could have cleaved off her head right then and there.

Fortunately, she wasn't just any body, so she was able to react to the attack even though it was so sudden.

The realization sent a chill down her spine as she exhaled slowly, her grip on her sword tightening without her noticing.

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