Her voice rang out across the silent arena, clear and unshaken. That bold challenge stunned not only the audience, but even the higher-ups. This was the first time anyone had dared to challenge Yvette since she earned her position—especially after her anomaly had been made known.
The silence was first broken by the pink-haired host.
"Ahem, cough cough. So you're saying you'd like to challenge Miss Yvette? Well... although the previous duel was supposed to be our final one for the day..." The host trailed off and glanced toward Yvette. "I suppose Miss Yvette wouldn't mind?"
Yvette's voice was soft, almost melodic, as she rose from her seat, her hands folded neatly in front of her.
"My but wouldn't it be not fair?" she asked with a small, serene smile.
Rose leaned casually against the railing, her voice edged with amusement. "What's wrong? Are you afraid? If you really earned that seat, a little gamble shouldn't shake you."
Yvette tilted her head, the smile never leaving her lips. "I'm not afraid. I just don't see the point. Rules are rules, aren't they?" Her eyes flicked briefly to the dagger embedded in the floor. "She wasn't on the list."
"You sound like someone hiding behind the rules."
"Or someone who follows them," Yvette replied gently. But there was nothing behind her gaze. No excitement, no irritation—just a still, echoing void.
"I'm fairly certain participation is still permitted, even without registration," a cold voice cut through the tension. Everyone turned toward the source: Azure.
"After all," she continued, her eyes calm but piercing, "the purpose of this event is to prove that the authority you hold is earned. Backing down from a challenge is the same as admitting you don't deserve your position."
Yvette froze. In that moment, it all clicked.
She was a contender for the throne—the same throne Azure held. And just like she wanted Azure out of the picture, Azure wanted her gone too. Yvette's allies were already being swept away one by one. Yuxuan was out, replaced by Clementine. And now... they wanted her gone next.
Yvette laughed. Loudly. Maniacally.
'Fine,' she thought. 'Let them try. That girl will lose either way.'
With her arms on her sides, she strutted into the arena.
Rose grinned wickedly and vanished, reappearing inside the arena in a flicker of red light, one hand resting on her hip.
The glass arena shimmered beneath them as the host cleared her throat and flicked her finger, bringing up a new screen in the air.
"Ah, pardon us dear students! It seems we have one final surprise for the day!" she announced, her voice bubbling with excitement. "Our unexpected challengers: Vice President Yvette Moonstone—known for her terrifying anomaly, one capable of forcing enemies to confront their deepest emotions mid-battle. A power that has brought even the fiercest warriors to their knees."
She paused, smiling. "But it seems her opponent isn't just anyone either. Introducing... Miss Rose Valerie! A rising S-rank within CHO, and a very special guest invited personally to our Academy. Will this mysterious new face overcome her fear and take down the vice president? Or will Miss Yvette continue her reign?"
The crowd roared—louder than they had all day. Whether it was once-in-a-century or just once-in-a-decade, no one cared. The thrill was electric.
The host raised her hand. "Now... let the match begin!"
Cheers erupted once again as both girls stepped forward, their eyes locked.
"You already know what my anomaly does," Yvette said softly, her smile gentle and unwavering. "So I hope you won't mind if I use it properly."
She blinked, and her eyes shimmered—mirrored patterns rippling across her irises. As Rose looked at her, her vision immediately began to distort. The world wavered, sounds began to muffle, and her body tensed on instinct.
She was ready for this. She had to be. If she wanted to return to her brother, she couldn't afford to lose here. Her breathing slowed. She closed her eyes, grounding herself.
She waited. The illusions would come soon. She waited.
And waited.
And waited.
'It's been what—five minutes? What the fuck?' Rose opened her eyes slowly, expecting horror.
Instead, what she saw made her freeze.
Yvette stood motionless. Blood ran down from her nose, her eyes vacant. She looked like a lifeless puppet, completely still.
"...What the hell?" Rose muttered under her breath, genuinely confused.
---
Cough. Cough. Blood splattered across the ground as the girl stared down at the blade embedded in her chest.
W-What's happening?! No—this isn't me! Who is this?! Did… did my power backfire?
Yvette's thoughts spun wildly. She was supposed to be using her anomaly—but somehow, instead of manipulating Rose's emotions, she had been pulled into Rose's body… and now, she was reliving her memory. She was in the reflection of her soul's trauma.
The worst part? She had no control. She could feel everything: the pain, the blood, the suffocating weight of despair. Her vision was not her own anymore. Her limbs, frozen. Her breath, ragged. The battlefield around her was a hellscape—creatures unlike any she had seen before tore into one another with mindless rage.
She didn't understand it. None of this made sense.
The scent of blood hit her first—sharp, metallic, overwhelming. Her chest burned with pain where the jagged blade pierced her heart. It wasn't a clean stab. It was meant to destroy, not kill. Pain didn't come in waves—it came like a hammer, relentless and cruel.
Her body trembled. Fingers twitched involuntarily. Breathing became impossible. Each gasp drowned in blood, thick and hot, choking her voice before it could escape.
...It hurts... The thought echoed in her mind—Rose's thought—and Yvette screamed internally. This isn't trauma. This is madness. This is—
"I'm sorry, Princess. But you should've never trusted me. It's your fault."
The voice—calm, cold, cruel—came from behind. The moment the blade pierced her, time itself seemed to fracture. The agony wasn't just physical. It was personal. Deep. Designed to break something far more vital than a body.
Her knees buckled. She crashed to the blood-soaked ground, breath stolen, heart shattered. Her vision dimmed, flickering with every heartbeat.
"Now that your core is destroyed… my job here is done."
Core? The word struck something in Yvette. She didn't understand what it meant—until Rose spoke again.
"Ly...selle… So you serve the Fifth Prince, huh? Figures. No one has ever sided with me or my brother…"
But it wasn't the fierce, arrogant Rose she'd met in the arena. This voice was hollow. Cold. A girl who had already given up.
Fifth Prince? Royalty? Yvette could barely process it. Her senses were overloaded, but she clung to the words.
"Apologies, Ninth Princess. They simply offered me more than you ever could."
"Why?" Rose's voice cracked. "Because we're half-bloods?"
She coughed blood, trembling. "Because we're half-human?!"
And with that final scream, Yvette felt not just the searing physical torment—but the unbearable weight of emotional pain. A pain that suffocated. That crushed her from the inside out.
The traitor hesitated, turned once more to look at the broken girl on the ground, and said without an ounce of remorse:
"Yes."
That single word was enough to ignite something.
Yvette felt it—the explosion of anguish. The grief twisted into fury. Deep within, something snapped. A surge of power, wild and untamed, roared to life. It didn't heal. It didn't protect. It burned.
Rose's body rejected the betrayal with violent force. Her own power turned against her flesh, tearing through her nerves like white-hot chains. Bones cracked. Skin blistered from within. Her core—whatever it had been—was shattering.
And then— A flash of light. Blinding. All-consuming. A strand of bright blue hair—the last thing she saw before everything was devoured.
And then— Silence.
Yvette gasped, snapping back into consciousness.
Yet this one didn't feel right either.
She was strapped to a chair, her clothes soaked in blood. A man knelt before her, begging for forgiveness, while another calmly patted her shoulder.
That's when it hit her—she was back in her own body. Her own trauma. Her own reality.
Her eyes, ears, and nose were bleeding profusely as she coughed up blood.
Her head throbbed—no, screamed—with pressure. This wasn't a headache. It was like her skull was being crushed in a vice, each heartbeat pounding like a hammer blow. Pain pulsed behind her eyes, hot and sharp, as if needles were being driven straight into her sockets. Every sound—every whisper, every breath—echoed in her mind like thunder, turning her thoughts into static.
Her temples burned. The pressure behind her forehead swelled, threatening to crack her skull open. It felt like her brain was expanding, trying to tear free from bone that refused to yield.
Then came the ringing. A high-pitched, piercing noise that wasn't real—but felt like it was.
It bored into her ears, stole her balance, and made the world tilt and sway like a ship in a storm. Her vision blurred. Colors bled at the edges. Her own breath sounded distant, as if trapped behind glass.
She gripped the wooden chair, nails digging into the grain, desperate to ground herself—to claw the agony out of her skull. But it didn't stop. It only got worse.
The pain wasn't content to stay in one place. It spiderwebbed through her mind—hot, electric, violent—tearing through her synapses like wildfire. Her thoughts scattered. Her focus shattered. All that remained was the pulse—deep, heavy, relentless.
It was the same as before. It fucking sucked. Worse, even—because she had no control over her body.
"Oh, Yvette, my daughter... You're doing great. Keep practicing like this, and that limit of yours will surely be gone."
Just hearing that voice sent ice down her spine.
The monster who called himself her "father." My Father.
She stared into the dark room. There was nothing to see—only shadows and dread. This was an old memory. A cursed one.
Unlike the children of other influential families who inherited their family's anomaly, Yvette never got the Moonstone's.
Instead, she was born with a curse—one that lived in her veins.
Her anomaly.
A limit. One person for 30 minutes. Any more, and her body would rebel. Her eyes, her nose, her mouth—everything would start to bleed.
But the Moonstone family didn't care. So they forced her to overuse it. Again. And again. And again. Until her body starts shaking. Until her head starts spinning. Until she starts collapsing.
They didn't want a daughter. They wanted a weapon.
So Yvette ran to the Academy, holding on to one goal—take the throne. If she could succeed… maybe she could finally break free.
But now it was all useless. She was going to lose a bet anyway.
If only that purple-eyed girl wasn't on their side—!
Everything went black.
Not in a poetic way. Not in a gentle fading.
It was ripped from her.
The pain, the sound, the memories—gone in an instant. As if someone had pulled a curtain across her consciousness, sealing her inside an empty, colorless void. No ground beneath her. No light. No breath. Just weightless darkness pressing down on her from every side.
Was this death?
For a moment, it was peaceful. And then—
Slam.
A blinding flash. A violent snap in her mind like glass shattering.
Her body jerked upright as if yanked by invisible strings.
The screams of the crowd roared into her ears. The bright, unforgiving lights of the arena stabbed through her eyes.
She was back. Back in the arena. Standing in the center of it all. The smell of blood, sweat, and burnt earth hit her like a wave.
But her body—her body wasn't ready.
Her knees buckled.
The roar of the crowd twisted into a distant, distorted hum as the pain came crashing back. Her nose bled again. Her ears rang. Her vision fractured like a mirror, and she barely caught the look of horror from someone in the stands.
She collapsed.
Hard.
Face to the ground. Blood pooling beneath her cheek.
Fingers twitching.
Breathing shallow.
Her body wouldn't move. Her mind screamed, but nothing came out. She couldn't even cry. Couldn't speak. Just laid there, broken, as her anomaly carved its damage into her bones and nerves.
Somewhere in the chaos, a voice called her name—but it sounded so far away.
All she could think about was the cold floor beneath her skin…
…and the bitter taste of failure on her tongue.
And the last things she saw.. was Rose.