[Day 2 of the Tournament – Quarter-Finals]

[Location: The Arena Floor]

The world was white. And cold.

Elena stumbled, her boots skidding on the damp stone. She couldn't tell up from down.

The Domain of the Silver Mist was disorienting, stripping away her depth perception and muffling the roar of the crowd into a dull, underwater hum.

She felt like she was drowning on dry land.

WHOOSH.

An ice spear flew out of the void.

Elena threw herself to the right. The spear sliced through the air where her head had been a second ago, shattering against the floor. Shards of ice peppered her legs, stinging like needles.

"Dancing in the dark, Princess?" Elise's voice drifted through the fog, echoing from everywhere at once. "You look clumsy. Like a rat in a maze."

Elena gritted her teeth. She raised her left hand, abandoning her Light magic for a moment.

'If I cannot see through the mist,' Elena thought, desperation clawing at her chest,

'I just need to push harder.'

She channeled her mana into her palm, summoning the wind affinity she had been training in secret.

[Wind Magic: Gale Blast.]

FOOM.

A burst of wind erupted from her hand, striking the wall of mist.

But the result was the same.

The water droplets were suspended by Elise's mana. They were heavy, dense, and sticky.

The wind pushed them back for a fleeting second, creating a small pocket of clear air, but the moment the wind pressure faded, the heavy mist rushed back in to fill the void, swirling thicker than before.

"I told you," Elise laughed, her voice closer now. "This isn't natural fog. It's weighted under my mana. You can't just blow it away with a fan."

CRACK.

An ice whip lashed out from the reformation of the mist. It wrapped around Elena's waist.

"Gah!"

Elena was yanked backward. She slammed into the arena wall, the breath knocked out of her.

The ice whip tightened, freezing the fabric of her uniform to her skin.

She slumped against the cold stone, panting. Blood trickled down her shoulder, staining the pristine white of her uniform crimson.

She was losing.

'I am the daughter of House Solari,' Elena thought, clutching her Photon Lens. 'Daughter, of the high elf queen Aelinor! How can I fail?'

'How can i !?'

She tried to fire another beam. FLASH.

The light hit the mist and scattered instantly, blinding her with a rainbow glare.

Refraction. The absolute counter to her existence.

In the VIP box, the nobles were murmuring. They saw a disgraced noble flailing helplessly against the genius of House Vane. They saw the end of House Solari.

Elena closed her eyes. She felt the cold dampness on her skin. She felt the humiliation burning in her chest.

'You are forcing it.'

The voice inside her head wasn't Elise's. It was Mozart's.

She remembered the Old Gym. She remembered sitting on the floor for hours, trying to thread a needle with a gust of wind.

She remembered screaming in frustration when the thread frayed.

…......

[Flashback: The Old Gym]

Elena sat amidst a pile of ruined threads, breathing hard. The needle sat on the table, mocking her.

"It's impossible!" Elena had shouted, throwing a spool across the room. "Wind magic isn't even as strong as light, what God father what kind of training is this! I should be training my Light!"

Mozart had picked up the needle. However, he didn't use mana, he simply just held it up to the light, inspecting the eye.

"Wind is only chaotic if you fight it," Mozart said calmly, his silver mask reflecting her angry face.

"You're trying to push the thread. Don't push. You cannot push a rope, Elena."

He set the needle down.

"Create a vacuum. Nature abhors a vacuum. If you create empty space, the air will rush to fill it. You don't need to force the thread. You just need to clear the path."

He leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper.

"You are obsessed with Light because it seems to be the strongest. But Light is rigid. It only travels in straight lines. If you want to hit a target that is hiding... you need to bend the world to suit the light."

…......

[Present Day]

Elena opened her eyes.

The ice whip was still wrapped around her waist. Elise was preparing the finishing blow somewhere in the fog.

"I have been stubborn," Elena whispered to herself.

She had been trying to win as a Light Mage. She wanted to prove that her family's magic was superior.

She had treated her Wind affinity as a utility, something to clean boots or speed up her running.

But Damien was right. Light was rigid. It needed a path.

And if the path didn't exist... she had to drill one.

"Elise!" Elena shouted, her voice cutting through the mist. She sounded different. The panic was gone.

"You are right. Your mist is too heavy to blow away."

"Accepting defeat?" Elise stepped out of the fog, ten meters away. She held a massive spear of condensed ice, aiming it at Elena's heart.

"How noble. At least you know when to quit."

Elena dropped her hand from her monocle not even charging a light spell.

She just raised her left hand spreading her fingers.

She didn't try to push the mist outward instead she reached out with her mana and grabbed the air between the water droplets.

"I won't blow it away," Elena said, her eyes glowing with a mixture of Gold and Green.

The air around her began to spin. Not outward in a blast, but inward, tightening.

[Wind Art: The Eye.]

"I will just move it aside."

A low hum began to vibrate through the arena. The mist around Elena started to rotate. It wasn't a messy storm; it was a perfect, high-speed centrifuge.

Elise frowned, lowering her spear slightly. "What are you doing?"

Elena looked at her, and for the first time in the match, she smiled.

"Guess" Elena smiled.

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