The arena erupted into cheers as the magical monitor focused on Rosalind, who had found and challenged General Kalavan, the infamous Demon Hunter. The crowd was both excited and anxious, knowing how dangerous Kalavan could be, even when holding back. Moonlight, watching from the sidelines, murmured, "Kalavan..." She hadn’t expected him to be the General participating in the trial. Kalavan was a bad match for the participants because he struggled to hold back in battle. Even though he wasn’t using his main weapon—the Demon Hunter Sword—and instead wielded a bastard sword, he was still a formidable opponent. Rosalind was clearly outmatched, and one wrong move could result in serious injury—or worse.

In the royal viewing box, former General Rosalinda, Rosalind’s grandmother, nearly fainted at the sight of her granddaughter facing off against Kalavan. "R-Rosalind! Ahhh... I feel dizzy," Rosalinda said, clutching her chest as she watched the match. Rosalind was holding her own and utilizing the offensive scrolls and potions really well, but it was clear she was barely avoiding lethal blows, her composure unwavering despite the danger.

"Calm down, Rosalinda. Take a deep breath," Former General Theron said, trying to comfort her.

Lancelot, though worried, couldn’t help but smirk. Kalavan was known for his strength and ruthlessness, having spent years hunting and killing high-level demons to protect the kingdom. But Lancelot remembered his own match with Mixarnt and how the boy had managed to overcome him. "Your granddaughter has spine, hahaha!" Lancelot said, his tone a mix of admiration and amusement.

Rosalinda glared at him, her annoyance cutting through her worry. "You think this is a laughing matter, you old brute? Ah, my head..." she muttered, rubbing her temples.

Leoric, another former general, chuckled. "Haha. At least have some remorse Lancelot."

"Hey, hey, Leoric, can you not say that? It makes it sound like the kid will die," Lusaric interjected, trying to lighten the mood.

Gundrik, ever the boisterous one, laughed heartily. "Gahahaha! That girl’s got guts, eh, Rosalinda? Just like you in your youth, gahahaha!"

Rosalinda was baffled by her friends’ lack of sensitivity. "Lady Rosalinda, please sit down and relax," Sunshine said, stepping in to comfort her. She couldn’t believe how casually the former generals were treating the situation, though she knew their era had been one of life-and-death battles. The king and queen also tried to reassure Rosalinda, their voices calm and soothing.

Amidst the chaos, Former General Xavier, always the logical one, spoke up. "She will die if she doesn’t disengage."

The room fell silent for a moment, the weight of Xavier’s words sinking in. Rosalinda’s face paled, but before she could respond, the magical monitor showed Rosalind narrowly dodging another of Kalavan’s strikes, her movements precise but clearly strained.

Sunshine, still by Rosalinda’s side, spoke softly. "Rosalind is strong. She knows what she’s doing. If anyone can survive this, it’s her."

Rosalinda nodded, though her worry didn’t fully dissipate. The former generals, despite their teasing, were also watching intently, their expressions a mix of pride and concern. Rosalind’s bravery was undeniable, but the stakes were high. The trial was a test of wits and might, and Rosalind was pushing herself to the limit.

As the battle continued, the whole Aetherlight held its breath, hoping Rosalind would find a way to survive—or at least have the wisdom to retreat before it was too late.

CLANG!

The force of Kalavan’s bastard sword sent Rosalind flying backward, crashing into a tree. She coughed, blood trickling from her lips. Her body was battered—scratched, bruised, and cut from just the shockwaves of his attacks.

“Amazing,” she muttered, her glare unwavering as she wiped the blood from her mouth and pushed herself to her feet, gripping her rapier tightly while she drank a healing and stamina potion, "I can’t believe you blocked all my attacks and even countered so effortlessly."

Kalavan tilted his head, amused. "Of course. You’re strong, but you’re not there yet."

Rosalind ignored him and activated the Rosaria's secret ability—Rose Aura. Blue, glowing mana petals swirled around her like a storm. The air hummed with power as her energy surged. Then, without hesitation, she charged at Kalavan again, as fierce as before.

Kalavan whistled as he watched the technique unfold. "Blue rose petals, huh? Your grandmother’s were red," he mused, recalling the legendary warrior Rosalinda. "Too bad yours are weaker."

Still, he was mildly impressed—Rosalind was faster now, her movements sharper, given some years, she would be able to surpass even her grandmother. Their swords clashed in a flurry of steel and sparks, her rapier striking with precision while his massive blade met each attack with ease. She was no longer just defending—she was pressing forward, forcing him to react.

Kalavan’s grin widened. “Not bad. You’re actually holding up.”

Rosalind gritted her teeth, pushing herself harder. She aimed for his openings—his wrists, his knees, his sides—each thrust precise, aiming to wear him down. Kalavan blocked, sidestepped, and countered, his sword moving with terrifying speed for its size. Each time he swung, the sheer force of it sent shockwaves through the air, tearing through trees and shaking the ground.

Then, in one brutal motion, he caught her blade with his own and twisted. The impact sent her skidding backward, her feet digging into the dirt. She barely had time to recover before he was on her again, his sword coming down like a falling mountain.

She dodged—barely. The ground where she had stood exploded in a cloud of debris.

Panting, she tried to lunge again, but Kalavan was faster. He closed the distance in an instant and struck. His blade slammed into her rapier, shattering her guard. The impact sent her flying again, her body tumbling across the forest floor.

She groaned, struggling to rise. Her vision blurred, pain screaming through her body. 'He’s too strong…'

Kalavan sighed and rested his sword on his shoulder. "This is over."

Just as he was about to finish it, footsteps echoed through the trees.

Three figures emerged from the shadows.

Kalavan grinned. "Oh? More guests?"

Rosalind coughed and looked up, recognizing the newcomers. 'Three more participants… Are they here to fight him too?'

Kalavan cracked his neck, his bloodlust flaring. "Good. I was just getting warmed up."

Aurelian, Caelum, and Adrian—the three nobles, participants who had previously tried to ambush Mixarnt—stepped forward with smug expressions.

"Kuku, found you~," Adrian sneered. "We heard a commotion and decided to check it out. Lucky us, huh?" His voice dripped with annoyance, still bitter over the damage Mixarnt had inflicted on him earlier. Now, he was eager to release that frustration—on Kalavan.

"Let’s see how tough you really are," Aurelian said, gripping his staff.

"Thanks for wearing him down for us, Rosalind," Caelum chuckled, his words laced with sarcasm.

Rosalind gritted her teeth. She was in no condition to fight—her body took a considerable amount of damage from Kalavan's attack earlier, blood dripping from her wounds. 'At this rate, I’ll die here…' She dragged herself to a nearby tree and reached into her supply bag, pulling out a healing potion.

But before she could drink it—thud!

A dagger flew through the air and shattered the bottle in her hand.

Then, flames erupted as Aurelian incinerated her supply bag which she immediately threw away.

"What the hell are you doing!?" Rosalind gasped, struggling to breathe. "Aren’t you here to fight Kalavan!?"

Adrian grinned. "Oh, we are. We’ll defeat him and take the king and queen’s wish. But eliminating participants—especially someone from House Rosaria—gives us even more opportunities. So just sit there and die slowly while we handle things."

Caelum smirked and summoned his grimoire, magical energy swirling around him as he prepared to support his allies.

Kalavan had been watching the entire exchange in silence. His grip on his bastard sword tightened. 'If this wasn’t an exam, I would have already cut them down.' He was known as the Demon Hunter, but he was also a General of Aetherlight. He had no love for seeing his own people turn on each other like this.

But rules were rules. The Aether Knight Exam had no mercy.

Kalavan let out a sigh, cracking his neck once again. "Come at me, brats," he said, irritation seeping into his voice. The trio had made a fatal mistake—assuming he was exhausted when he hadn’t even broken a sweat just because he has been fighting Rosalind for hours.

Adrian laughed. "Kuku… three of us against you? That’s not all."

Suddenly, dozens of figures emerged from the shadows.

Kalavan’s eyes flicked across the battlefield—at least 80 participants.

For a moment, even he was surprised.

Then, he grinned.

"I won’t be responsible if most of you die," he warned, rolling his shoulders. "It’s hard for me to hold back—especially when my opponents come in those numbers."

Aurelian instantly use a lightning attack on him and, without hesitation, Kalavan charged like a madman, a wide, bloodthirsty smile on his face. His sword gleamed under the moonlight, and the battle began.