Lancelot’s eyes narrowed, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he regarded Mixarnt. The boy’s audacity was both amusing and impressive. "You think you can injure me, kid? You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that," Lancelot said, his voice carrying a mix of amusement and challenge. He twirled his spear in one hand and adjusted his grip on his sword, the artifacts gleaming faintly in the blizzard.

Mixarnt’s grin didn’t waver. "Yeah I get that a lot! But I don’t just think it, old man. I know it. So, do we have a deal? If I land a hit, you pass all of us. If I don’t, well... I’ll let you decide what happens to me."

The girls, still shaken from Lancelot’s sudden attack on Jenna, exchanged worried glances. "Mixarnt, are you sure about this?" Misa asked, her voice trembling. "He’s a former general of the Aether Knights. He’s not someone you can just—"

Mixarnt held up a hand, cutting her off. "Don’t worry. I’ve got this." His confidence was unwavering, though the girls could see the tension in his stance. He knew this wouldn’t be easy, but he also knew he had no other choice. If he didn’t fight for them, they’d be left behind, and that wasn’t an option.

Lancelot chuckled, his deep voice carrying over the howling wind. "Alright, kid. I’ll humor you. If you can land a single hit on me, I’ll pass all six of you. But if you fail, you’ll all be disqualified, and you’ll owe me a favor. Deal?"

Mixarnt’s grin widened. "Deal."

The girls gasped, their protests drowned out by the blizzard. "Mixarnt, you can’t just—" Kara started, but Mixarnt shook his head.

"Trust me," he said simply, his eyes locked on Lancelot.

The general raised an eyebrow, impressed by the boy’s resolve. "Very well. Let’s see what you’ve got."

The girls quickly hid and make distance, to watch the duel with worried eyes.

Without warning, Lancelot lunged forward, his spear and sword moving in perfect harmony. Mixarnt barely had time to react, his wooden sword deflecting the spear while he sidestepped the sword strike. The force of the attack sent him skidding back, his boots digging into the snow.

"Not bad," Lancelot said, his tone almost approving. "But let’s see how long you can keep up."

The moment Mixarnt activated Enigma Enhancement 30%, black lightning crackled across his body, his speed increasing dramatically. He dashed forward, his blade humming with energy as he swung at Lancelot with blistering speed.

CLANG!

Lancelot barely moved, yet his spear met Mixarnt’s sword with effortless precision. The impact sent sparks flying, the force traveling up Mixarnt’s arm, making him grit his teeth. Without hesitation, he spun, aiming a high-speed slash at Lancelot’s side.

But the retired general merely shifted his stance, tilting his spear just enough to redirect the blow. Mixarnt’s sword missed entirely, cutting only air.

"Not bad," Lancelot mused, his voice calm and unshaken. "But not nearly good enough."

Mixarnt’s eyes narrowed. He reappeared behind Lancelot in a burst of black lightning, his blade already in motion.

CLANG!

Lancelot didn’t even turn—his spear rotated backward, perfectly intercepting the attack. Before Mixarnt could react, the veteran warrior twisted his weapon and sent a shockwave through it, forcing Mixarnt to backflip away to avoid being thrown off balance.

"Damn it, he’s reading me like an open book!" Mixarnt thought, landing with a skid.

Lancelot remained still, barely moving from his spot, his expression unreadable. "You're fast. And your enhancement magic is interesting," he said, resting his spear casually against his shoulder. "But you rely too much on it."

Mixarnt clicked his tongue. He didn’t have time to entertain Lancelot’s critiques. He dashed forward again, his speed increasing with each step. His black lightning flared wildly, amplifying his reflexes.

He struck from the right—Lancelot shifted slightly, dodging.

A downward slash—parried effortlessly.

A rapid combination of thrusts—each one deflected with precision.

Mixarnt gritted his teeth and tried to catch Lancelot off guard with a feint, pretending to strike low before instantly shifting to an upward cut.

CLANG!

Lancelot barely moved his wrist, but his spear blocked the attack cleanly.

The difference in skill was staggering.

"This is insane…" Mixarnt thought, his breathing growing heavier. No matter how fast he moved or how unpredictable his strikes were, Lancelot’s defense was absolute.

Then—

BOOM!

Lancelot suddenly stomped the ground, sending a shockwave outward. Mixarnt instinctively leaped back, but in that split second, Lancelot moved.

"Too fast!"

Mixarnt barely registered the shift before Lancelot appeared directly in front of him.

A blindingly fast spear thrust shot toward Mixarnt’s chest only for it to stop millimeters before impact.

The sheer force of the attack displaced the air, sending a violent gust blasting past Mixarnt, rustling the trees behind him.

His heart pounded. Had that hit him, he would’ve been out of the fight instantly.

Lancelot pulled back, lowering his weapon. "That’s enough."

Mixarnt stood there, fists clenched, his body still crackling with residual black lightning. He wanted to keep going. He hated how easily he had been overpowered. But deep down, he knew—Lancelot was toying with him.

"This fight is over," Lancelot said with finality. "You're strong, but not nearly strong enough to hit me."

Mixarnt exhaled sharply, his body relaxing.

He had lost.

But this wasn’t the end.

He raised his gaze to Lancelot, determination burning in his eyes. 

Mixarnt stood firm, "No. This fight isn’t over. If I accept my defeat, it means all of us will fail the exam," he declared.

Lancelot, who had been going easy on Mixarnt out of respect for Gundrik, raised an eyebrow. The boy’s refusal to give up intrigued him. "Hooo~" Lancelot murmured, a smirk forming on his face. "Gundrik was right. You’ve got heart."

Mixarnt then made a bold proposal. "Hey, Old Man! Let’s end this with one strike. No parries, no blocks—just attack. All you have to do is kill me or make me unable to move by hitting me first."

Lancelot’s interest was piqued. He didn’t know what Mixarnt was planning, but the challenge excites him. "Kid, you’re making this exciting for me," Lancelot said, his power surging as he prepared for the strike. His smile turned fierce, like a beast ready to pounce.

Back in the throne room, Gundrik scratched his head nervously. "Oh. Now this is bad," he said, looking away with a comedic sweat. The other former generals sighed, knowing Lancelot’s battle-hungry nature all too well.

Sunshine, unable to contain her worry, grabbed her sword and turned to leave. "Damnit!" she exclaimed. "I’m going to stop this. I’d rather have him forfeit and try again next year than watch him die!"

"Wait, Sunshine," Eclipse said calmly, her gaze fixed on the magical screen. Her Lunar eyes glowed with intensity beneath her mask.

"What!? Aren’t you worried too? I can’t just stand here and watch Mixarnt get massacred!" Sunshine shot back, her frustration evident.

"Of course I’m worried," Eclipse replied, her voice steady. "But I trust Mixarnt."

Sunshine hesitated, realizing that if she intervened, it would show she had less faith in Mixarnt than Eclipse did. Reluctantly, she returned to her seat, muttering under her breath, "Don’t you dare lose."

Althea, trying to ease the tension, added, "C-calm down, Sunshine. Let’s just trust Mixarnt."

Meanwhile, in the plaza, Guild Master Orion and Elara watched the screen with growing anxiety. Orion felt like he was on the verge of a heart attack. "G-guild master, l-let’s trust Mixarnt! He has a plan!" Elara said, though her nervous sweat and awkward smile betrayed her uncertainty.

"He has?" Orion asked weakly.

"Probably." Elara replied, her voice shaky.

Orion nearly fainted. 

The entire kingdom held its breath as Mixarnt and Lancelot prepared for their decisive strike.