Millennium Witch

Book 3: Chapter 214: Hurry It Up

While Conrad Dean was questioning his life over Lucia’s bizarre performance·In the arena, after spending quite a bit of effort, Lucia, who had gained the upper hand through swordplay, finally defeated the boy from the Herman Empire. She let out a quiet breath—and, to her surprise, felt a touch of satisfaction.

She realized that while her dad’s version of the combat art wasn’t as strong as the Witch’s version, it wasn’t without its own merits.

For instance, opponents who would be one-shotted by the Witch’s version could trade a few proper exchanges against her when she used the dad version. Winning on sword skill like that gave her a greater sense of accomplishment.

However, not long after that bout ended, the next challenger vaulted onto the platform.

Unlike the boy ranked twelfth before, this time it was the fourth-ranked candidate straight away: Parris Komodo, a wolfkin from the beastkin. Unlike humans, beastkin tend to have weaker innate magic talent, but they wield a bestial transformation awakened from deep in their bloodline. With that power as a boost, beastkin usually hold the edge over humans in same-tier fights.

Very soon, after restoring stamina and mana with potions, Lucia’s fight with Parris began.

At first Lucia slowly took the advantage with her excellent sword technique, but the wolfkin youth didn’t hesitate—he immediately entered beastform, thick wolf hair bristling over his body.

In that second-stage form, Lucia indeed lost her initial advantage and shifted from offense to defense。

“Good sword technique. She either has remarkable talent or has been guided by a master.” Up on the tower’s viewing platform, Ignatius offered a brief assessment and sipped his tea. “Mm—she’s certainly qualified to be my disciple.”

Conrad at his side said nothing, only frowned and stared fixedly at the arena. He still didn’t think he’d misread things. With the red-haired girl now at a disadvantage, he felt he might witness again that mysterious combat art that had made even him jolt upright.

Sure enough, after Lucia had been on the back foot for a long while and looked about to falter, that shade of red light Conrad cared so much about appeared again.

Different from the original orange-red glow, in that instant the sword-light turned blood-red!

In that instant Conrad’s pupils contracted. He could all but confirm that this strike was the very one that had shocked him before—and only this strike carried that utterly pure power of flame!

Watching the wolfkin boy get swept away by that scorching slash, Conrad grew excited and blurted, “Did you see that, Dean? That strike—I mean that strike!”

But when he turned his head, he realized Ignatius wasn’t beside him at all.

He stared, then saw Ignatius strolling out of the tearoom behind them, a cup of freshly topped-up hot tea in hand. With an innocent look he said, “Mm—did something happen?”

Conrad’s expression froze. He drew a deep breath and said, “Nothing—but could I ask that during the rest of the matches, you don’t just wander off? This matters to me.”

On the platform, seeing the wolfkin youth clamber up, covered in dust and disbelief, Lucia gave an apologetic little smile, then watched him leave with a crestfallen face.

Her switch had been extremely discreet, and since the two versions of the combat art looked very similar in effect, no one noticed when she suddenly swapped them mid-fight.

“I didn’t expect you to beat Parris—truly beyond my expectations. Seems you’re not as simple as you look.” As Lucia stepped down from the platform, another person came over—clearly to challenge her as well.

Lucia glanced at him and confirmed that this finely dressed youth was the third-ranked candidate of this Spring Admissions, Regan Avarret from the Sitt Kingdom—a prodigy with a magic-talent score of 80.

Why is everyone lining up to challenge me? Is this the fate of being number one— She felt a bit bitter, then turned to a black-haired, gray-eyed girl not far away and asked, “Are you going to challenge me too?”

This black-haired, gray-eyed girl was the second-ranked candidate, Flami Frost—a mysterious girl from the southern nations like Lucia. Not only was she beautiful, she also had a frightening talent score of 89. If Lucia hadn’t burst onto the scene out of nowhere, the one standing at number one right now would have been her.

“Nope. I’m grateful you’re taking the heat for me.” Flami said with a bright smile. “I’ll be cheering for you, Miss Sterling.”

The unexpected encouragement made Lucia blink, and she took a liking to the black-haired girl. She dipped her head slightly, then turned and mounted the platform again.

So, having just finished with the fourth-ranked wolfkin youth, she was immediately facing the third-ranked next. Even with potions to restore stamina and mana, this kind of gauntlet was draining.

“Look at his wrist—is that the Avarret family’s White Crow blood-mark?”

Among the audience, someone knowledgeable voiced a question.

The Sitt Kingdom is the second-largest human nation. With the Herman Empire and the Elven Kingdom, it’s one of the Radiant Continent’s three great upper nations—and it’s also the birthplace of one of the three great True God churches, the Crimson Sanctum.

Compared to other human realms—be it the Herman Empire, the southern nations, or the human city-states of the Free Alliance—the Sitt Kingdom has a unique feature: the noble houses’ “blood-mark secret arts,” handed down generation after generation.

These secret arts are special powers unique to each house and are never taught outside. Even if leaked, they can’t be activated without the designated bloodline. The Avarret family’s White Crow blood-mark, for example, is known to summon phantom white crows that, like a flock of ghosts, obey the summoner’s commands and assist in battle.

Precisely because of that mysterious White Crow blood-mark, many believed that in this Spring Admissions, Regan was the most likely to take first place.

After all, no matter how gifted Lucia was, she was still a country girl from a small southern nation at the moment. Regan, on the other hand, was the young lord of the Avarret family in the Sitt Kingdom—endless resources since childhood, and a trump card like the White Crow blood-mark. In overall combat strength, forget the freshmen—how many current students could beat him for sure?

On the platform, noticing the seriousness in Lucia’s eyes, Regan wore a proud expression and said coolly, “No need to be so tense. Losing to me is normal—relax. If you don’t perform well, it’ll be boring for me to win.”

After watching Lucia’s earlier fights, he was brimming with confidence—he already felt the victory was his.

The wolfkin’s loss had been a bit inexplicable, sure—but that wouldn’t happen to him.

On the other side, hearing the provocation, Lucia curled her lip and quietly sheathed herself in searing aura. When the instructor announced the start and Regan stood motionless with a “you go first” look, she didn’t stand on ceremony—she closed in at once, probing for an opening.

Just then, she suddenly noticed, in an empty little corner of the stands behind Regan, a nondescript short-haired girl with chestnut hair standing there, quietly watching her.

Lucia’s eyes lit up at once. But before she could send her joy across with a look, she saw the chestnut-haired girl raise a hand and make a gesture Lucia knew very well: hurry it up.

The next second, a blood-red slash wrapped in scorching hot wind tore through the air, streaking straight toward the far side of the platform!

Before anyone—teachers on standby included—could react, the “genius” boy who’d been standing so proudly a moment ago was already flying backward like a kite with its string cut. He only stopped when he slammed into the array barrier at the edge of the platform. Wisps of blue smoke curled off his charred robes, and he had already slipped into unconsciousness.