Silence reigned over the open field. No sound of breathing or movement disturbed the atmosphere, as the two opponents seemed frozen in a heavy wait. Lysandra stood exactly twenty meters from Klein, her feet firmly planted on the ground. Her long hair slowly rose around her shoulders, under the effect of the magical pressure she emitted. Her athletic silhouette was molded in a flexible outfit, which hugged the pronounced curve of her hips as well as the firmness of her chest without hindering her movements. Her intense eyes remained fixed on Klein’s with a determination bordering on hatred. What she could not stand about him was this apparent indifference he displayed in all circumstances. He, for his part, remained motionless, his hands buried in the pockets of his coat, and his face betrayed no emotion.

"Draw your weapon, Klein," she said in a clear voice that echoed loudly enough for everyone to hear. "I don’t want an easy victory."

"You won’t need me to use it. If I were you, I’d focus more on your footing." Klein replied in a monotone voice as he rolled his eyes in exasperation.

This remark made Lysandra grit her teeth. She immediately stopped speaking and raised both hands toward the sky. Instantly, a stifling heat invaded the space. The mana present in the air began to swirl around her in increasingly dense volutes, and these volutes quickly took on an orange hue mixed with white sparks. She did not wait a second longer to unleash her first attack, with no warning sign.

< Fusion Magic: Solar Nova >

A pure fireball, white as a sun at its zenith, shot straight at Klein at such a high speed that it would have reduced any rank A warrior to ashes in a fraction of a second. When the sphere hit the spot where Klein stood, the resulting explosion shook the very foundations of the ground. A thick cloud of limestone dust and water vapor saturated the air in a few moments, so much so that visibility became almost zero in the entire radius of the impact. Lysandra, however, did not pause. She knew her own abilities: her speed was her main asset. She therefore used it to move instantly, appearing behind the cloud of debris even before the gravel had finished falling. A fine aura of light now enveloped her body, increasing her reflexes to the point where she perceived every residual movement of the air around her.

"You see, Klein?" she shouted as she spun around to face the smoking crater. "I don’t need you to move. I’m going to force you to take your hands out of your pockets."

< Palm of the Burning Dawn >

Lysandra unleashed her first attack without warning. She launched a series of palm strikes, each imbued with flames of an orange so intense it almost turned white. These strikes displaced masses of burning air, creating a veritable walking furnace around her. The stones on the ground began to blacken under the effect of the radiant heat.

Klein observed the trajectory of each blow with precision. He moved his body only a few centimeters, doing only what was necessary to avoid the attacks. The flames licked the edges of his shirt and singed the hem of his left sleeve, but they never reached him. He could clearly see every movement of Lysandra’s joints, every contraction of her muscles even before she struck. She was fast for a mortal, there was no doubt about that. However, for him who had reached the level of Transcendence, these gestures were nothing but meaningless movements. She seemed to be moving in molasses, her speed efforts appearing almost comical in light of his own perception of time.

Lysandra took a step back, her fists clenched so tightly that her knuckles turned white.

"Why... Why can’t I touch you?"

Her voice was choppy from the effort. Sweat beaded on her forehead then flowed down her temples before disappearing into her cleavage. She did not wait for an answer and increased her mana flow even more. The energy surge was so brutal that the ground beneath her feet began to melt, the stone turning into liquid lava that formed an incandescent puddle around her.

< Domain of the Holy Flame >

She propelled herself toward Klein, becoming a ray of pure light. This technique was the fastest in her entire arsenal: she had perfected it over years, refining it until her body could almost completely ignore the laws of inertia. The air around her tore with a high-pitched whistle.

Klein did not move an inch, he waited. At the precise moment when she was about to hit his solar plexus, he simply changed the position of his feet. A pivot on his left heel, nothing more. His right hand came to rest along his torso by reflex, but he did not even need it. Lysandra’s hand passed a millimeter from his shirt. He then grabbed her wrist in an iron grip, his fingers sinking into her flesh like claws.

"You’re fast," he conceded in a neutral tone. "But it’s useless since I’m your opponent."

He contracted the muscles of his shoulder and arm, then hurled Lysandra several meters away. Her body spun through the air before slamming into a stone pillar with a dull, wet sound. Blood spurted from her mouth, forming a fine red mist that fell to the ground in scattered drops. A crack formed in the stone behind her, testifying to the violence of the impact.

She tried to get up, placing a trembling hand on the ground to straighten herself. But Klein was on her before she could stabilize her still blurry vision. He was not using any magic at that moment, just raw physical strength enhanced by his aura. His mere presence weighed on her like a mountain.

He raised his knee to deliver a violent blow to her stomach. Lysandra, guided by an extraordinary survival reflex, shifted her torso to the right. Klein’s knee struck empty air, meeting only the air.

She took advantage of that moment to roll to the side and get back to her feet, thus gaining some distance. Her hands automatically rose into a guard position, palms open, fingers slightly spread. She was already panting, her ragged breathing betraying a body pushed to its limits. Yet the person standing in front of her seemed calm, as if he were only playing against a child. This simple observation ignited a burning rage in Lysandra’s chest. She clenched her jaws hard enough to make her teeth crack.

She took a deep breath, a long gulp of air that swelled her lungs, then exhaled slowly to lower her tension. Her hands repositioned themselves, lower this time, her footing rebalanced.

"I’m going to get serious," she said, her voice regaining some firmness.

Klein tilted his head slightly to the side, an almost nonchalant gesture.

"I’d like to see that," he replied simply.