Chapter 475: The Grand First-Year Combat Festival: Two Scary Flowers

Once Cyrus’s Flame Alchemy ignited...

A small explosion suddenly erupted beside Tristin’s right cheek.

The blast struck his face with enough force to knock his head violently to the side, almost as if someone had slammed a fist directly into it.

Tristin’s body staggered.

He dropped onto one knee and immediately grabbed his right cheek.

The skin around it was burning from the aftereffect of the small explosion, and a thin trail of smoke rose from the spot before disappearing into the air.

"How?"

Tristin muttered.

His eyes were wide with confusion.

He genuinely couldn’t understand what had just happened.

He had protected himself from Cyrus’s previous explosions.

He had even managed to maintain his Light Barrier while attacking.

So how had Cyrus suddenly managed to make an explosion appear directly beside his face?

And also bypassing his light barrier?

"Did you really think I only need bottles of Dragon’s Tears or objects to perform my Flame Alchemy?"

Cyrus asked calmly.

His expression was different from the careless one he had shown earlier.

There was no teasing smile now.

He simply looked at Tristin.

"With the right conditions."

Cyrus bent down slightly.

His scarlet eyes examined the Prince.

He was looking at the heat gathered around Tristin’s body.

The Prince had spent the entire fight moving aggressively, attacking with his Light Blade, defending himself with his Light Barrier, and enduring the Flame explosions Cyrus had created.

All of that had raised his body temperature.

And that heat had reached a level that met Cyrus’s requirements.

Cyrus could use that hot flow.

He could turn it into a small explosion.

It was similar to Ravenor’s Instant Flame Burst.

However, Cyrus’s version was much weaker in terms of explosive power.

Even so, it still hurt badly because the explosion ignited directly against Tristin’s skin.

There was no visible distance between the flames and his body.

And that made the pain much worse.

"Now, Prince Tristin Aethelmont."

Cyrus spoke still a calmly tone, but this time, much more calmly than earlier.

"Pop quiz."

Tristin’s expression stiffened.

"How long do you think it will take for your hidden Light Blade to stab me in the back?"

Cyrus’s scarlet-red eyes narrowed slightly.

"Between how many instant explosions do you think I can set on you?"

His voice had become cold.

Tristin’s golden eyes suddenly flinched faintly.

When did he figure out that I have a Light Blade hidden in the sunlight?

The Prince stared at Cyrus in disbelief.

He had deliberately hidden the Light Blade in the surrounding light atmosphere.

It shouldn’t have been possible for Cyrus to perceive it.

Except he had a high level of Cognis Perception like his step-brother.

My Light Blade shouldn’t be able to be perceived, by the like of him.

Tristin’s hand slowly moved from his cheek.

His expression hardened.

"Tsk. It’s my Light Blade that is faster, you fool."

He moved his hand forward.

The hidden Light Blade immediately responded to his control.

It shifted through the air at a far distance in front of him before shooting toward Cyrus’s back.

The blade moved quickly.

It was already only a short distance away.

"Wrong answer, Prince."

Cyrus’s hands came together.

Clap!

Cognis flowed from his veins into his arms and then out through his palms.

A Flame Alchemy Circle formed between his hands.

Cyrus didn’t waste any movement.

Slam!

He slammed both palms against the ground just as the hidden Light Blade came within inches of touching his back.

Boom!

A small explosion ignited from Tristin’s hand.

The blast struck the hand controlling the Light Blade.

The force violently knocked his hand to the side.

The Light Blade was redirected with it, passing away from Cyrus’s body.

Tristin’s face twisted from the sudden pain.

He fell onto the ground while clutching his hand.

"ARGH! Fuck!"

He gritted his teeth.

But Cyrus didn’t give him any time to recover.

Clap!

Another Flame Alchemy.

Boom!

A small explosion ignited on Tristin’s back.

"AHHHH!!!"

Tristin’s body jerked.

He immediately grabbed his back in agony.

Before he could properly recover...

Clap!

Another Flame Alchemy Circle ignited.

Boom!

A small explosion erupted against his leg.

Tristin’s body stumbled.

The attacks continued.

Clap!

Boom!

Clap!

Boom!

The small explosions appeared one after another, each one using the heat Cyrus had already built up around Tristin’s body.

The Prince tried to endure them.

He tried to maintain his defenses.

But the explosions were not striking him from a distance anymore.

They were happening directly against his body.

His movements became slower.

His breathing grew rougher.

Smoke began to rise from different parts of his clothes as the repeated explosions continued to wear him down.

The fight that had seemed to be under his control only moments ago had completely changed.

Cyrus remained bent.

His hands continued moving whenever another Flame Alchemy was needed.

There was no wild expression on his face.

No excitement.

He simply continued using the method he had discovered.

Eventually...

"Urgggggg..."

Tristin’s body twitched.

His body finally gave out.

He fainted.

Smoke drifted from his body and slowly rose into the air.

The Arena became quiet for a moment.

Cyrus stood up.

He brushed the dust from his clothes before adjusting his Alchemy gloves.

He looked toward the unconscious Prince.

"Who needs to be a genius when you can just be a Badass."

He said with a calm smile on his face.

"WINNER!"

Patrick West’s voice echoed loudly from the commentator’s section.

"Sir Cyrus Burnwick!!"

He announced Cyrus’s name with satisfied excitement.

The crowd reacted immediately.

Cheers rose from different sections of the Arena.

"Who knew Cyrus Burnwick had such a good understanding of a different style within his family’s Alchemy Path compared to his own stepbrother?"

Liliana, who was still serving as the co-host for the day, said while looking at Cyrus.

A faint, satisfied smile appeared on her face as she watched him walk down the stage.

Cyrus lazily raised one hand and waved toward the crowd, before placing his headset on his ears.

The cheers became louder.

No one had truly expected Cyrus Burnwick to defeat Tristin in this way.

There had been people in the crowd cheering for the Prince throughout the match, but it wasn’t because they knew Tristin was much stronger than Cyrus.

They were cheering because he was a Prince of Britannia.

People knew his name.

They knew his position.

They knew the Royal Family.

Cyrus, on the other hand, was different.

Even though he was the son of a Duke House, only a few people knew much about him.

He wasn’t considered a person of importance by most of the audience.

But now...

With his performance in this combat festival.

No one could really tell if Cyrus Burnwick was just an unknown name in the midst of the two geniuses of Burnwick.

A few minutes later, the Medic team carried the unconscious Prince away.

The damaged fighting platform was also repaired, and the next match commenced.

Diane Bergwyn versus Starke Drakes.

Starke was the last hope of House Drakes, the only person remaining who had a chance of reaching a high enough round to place himself among the top-ranked first-years.

But unfortunately...

The person he was facing was the Ice Sleeping Flower of Britannia.

Diane Bergwyn.

Diane had glided through all of her previous fights effortlessly.

She had defeated her opponents either by striking them with her slim sword or by freezing them before they could properly respond.

Her victories had been as easy as those of the other top first-years.

And after everything she had displayed during the Combat Festival, she had been placed among the top winners of the event.

Not that she wasn’t already placed above all the other first-years except Ravenor.

The fight between Starke Drakes and Diane began as expected.

Starke spent most of the battle on the defensive.

He used Earth Alchemy to create walls and barriers around himself, trying to protect his body from Diane’s slim sword.

Diane’s Cognis flowed through her slim blade.

Every swing carried enough force to break through the Earth Alchemy if Starke failed to reinforce it in time.

BOOM!

Diane’s sword struck an Earth wall.

Cracks spread across its surface.

Starke immediately reinforced it with more Cognis.

The wall held.

For only a moment.

Diane pulled her sword back and swung again.

BOOM!

Another section cracked.

The difference between the two became clearer with every exchange.

Both were clearly Adept Alchemist Rank.

But their levels were completely different.

Unlike Starke Drakes, Diane Bergwyn had already reached a breakthrough toward the Meister Alchemist Rank.

And the difference in strength became even more frightening because Diane’s combat instincts and natural physical stats were visibly ahead of Starke’s.

She didn’t need to think for long before reacting.

Whenever Starke created an Earth wall, Diane was already moving toward the next opening.

Whenever he tried to reinforce his defenses, her sword was already approaching another weak point.

The fight continued for five minutes.

Starke fought hard.

He continued creating Earth walls in front of himself, using one defensive layer after another to keep Diane away.

But Diane kept cutting through them.

One wall.

Then another.

Until finally...

BOOM!

Diane smashed through the last Earth wall Starke had created to protect himself.

The broken Earth scattered across the platform.

Before Starke could create another defense, Diane’s slim sword was already resting against the side of his neck.

The battle was over.

"WINNER!"

Patrick’s voice echoed brightly across the Arena.

The crowd immediately went wild.

"Lady Diane Bergwyn!!!"

"I love you, Ice Beauty!"

"My Sleeping Ice Lady!!"

"Lady Diane Bergwyn!!"

The voices overlapped throughout the Arena.

People waved flags bearing Diane’s image.

Others raised their Diane merchandise above their heads.

The cheers continued from one section to another.

"Lady Diane Bergwyn!"

Patrick shouted her name again.

Diane looked up toward the roaring crowd.

Her eyes were tired.

She remembered what Hermione had told her.

About always waving her hand when she enters the stage.

And after she leaves the stage.

Diane slowly raised her hand.

She gave the crowd a small wave.

Then she turned around and left.

The Medic team walked onto the stage and approached Starke.

He was panting heavily.

His body wasn’t that injured, but the fight had taken much more from him than the wounds alone showed.

He had spent the entire battle pushing his Cognis into his Earth Alchemy, desperately trying to stop himself from being demolished by Diane’s attacks.

But it came to no avail.

The Medic team helped him from the platform.

The damaged stage was also repaired once again by the craft-based Academy staff.

The Combat Festival was ready for the next fight.