The arena was still buzzing even after Jiwoo’s match ended.

“He beat someone from the top leaderboard!”

“And without using mana again—did you see that finish?”

Jiwoo stepped off the stage, wooden sword still in hand. His breathing had calmed, but his pulse hadn’t. The rhythm of the fight still ran through him—each strike, each parry, every precise shift of balance.

Seo Nara had been faster, sharper. He’d only won because he didn’t panic—because something inside him ...