In the expansive courtyard before the altar, a crowd of soldiers—Oda, Qihuang Shin, and even the priests—held their breath. From the eastern side, Ma Shulian stepped forward with a calm demeanor. Her red-purple robe was adorned with intricate dragon embroidery, and her hair was neatly styled with a jade hairpin. Her sharp, slanted eyes and the small smile at the corner of her lips conveyed a sense of wisdom, yet hinted at danger.

  Standing before Shulian was Sir Gareth, the youngest Knight of the Round. With his curly golden hair and emerald green eyes, he wore light armor, a light blue belt cinched around his waist, and a slender sword at his side. Doubt flickered in his eyes, but there was also the determination of someone ready to die for his oath.

  Shulian glanced at the audience, her voice soft like the night breeze. “You look young, Sir Gareth. Are you sure you want to face an old sorceress all by yourself?”

  Gareth forced a wide smile, trying to mask his nervousness, though his hands trembled slightly. “Age is not a measure of strength, Lady Shulian. I may be the youngest among the knights, but I have stood on the battlefield longer than most of the generals here.” He lifted his chin, maintaining his confidence despite the doubt in his eyes.

  Shulian nodded slowly, observing the aura around Gareth before taking a deep breath to speak. “Noble. But in the art of magic, noble intentions alone are not enough. Are you ready to face both illusion and reality at the same time?” Her expression turned serious, her eyes reflecting a depth of knowledge that was intimidating.

  Gareth drew his slender sword, the air vibrating with a silvery-blue magic. He focused, reminding himself of his purpose. “I am ready to face whatever you bring. Because tonight, I fight for hope.” His voice was steady, his grip on the sword firm, his body poised for action.

  Ma Shulian moved first, her palms dancing in the air, creating golden patterns with gentle yet powerful movements. Her voice resonated with a magical aura as she spoke her incantation. “Dream Serpent, Rise.”

  The ground cracked, and purple mist swirled—an illusory dragon emerged from the stones, its body made of light and smoke. Its scales shimmered, and its eyes glowed, casting a mesmerizing yet terrifying illusion. As the dragon soared, an aura vibrated in the air, seeping into the souls of the watching soldiers. “Prepare to witness the laws of nature turned upside down,” Shulian’s voice echoed, strengthening the resolve in the hearts of the spectators.

  “Get ready, Gareth. This is just the beginning,” she said confidently, her smile hinting at an intimidating calm.

  “Dream Serpent, Rise.”

  The ground cracked again, and the purple mist danced—another illusory dragon emerged, its body shimmering with light and smoke. Its scales glowed, and its eyes burned red. “Can you feel the power of this illusion?” Ma Shulian asked, her gaze sharp. The soldiers of Qihuang Shin cheered softly, while Gareth maintained a stoic expression, tightening his grip on his sword.

  “Good,” Gareth murmured calmly, “But I have faced real dragons, my lady. An illusion won’t make me flee.” He fixed his gaze on the dragon, ready to confront it.

  Shulian smiled gently, her eyes shining with deep understanding. “It’s not the dragon that will make you flee, young one. It’s the doubt within your own heart.”

  The illusory dragon coiled, threatening Gareth from above. The battlefield was thick with rising tension. Sir Gareth planted his feet firmly, channeling his strength. “I will overcome all these barriers,” he declared, his voice igniting with determination.

  “Glory Ward!”

  A blue energy shield enveloped Gareth, absorbing the illusory dragon’s breath, which emerged as acidic mist. The acid struck the shield, evaporating with a hissing sound. Gareth stared directly at Shulian, his voice resolute. “I will not succumb to old fears. If you want to bring me down, it will take more than just an illusion.” He challenged her, his vision filled with resolve.

  Shulian nodded slowly, as if acknowledging his challenge. “Your courage is commendable, but be wary. Tactics can fluctuate, just like your opponent,” she warned softly, her words laced with caution. As she spoke, purple flowers began to bloom on the ground around them.

  Shulian changed her hand movements, now slow and wide. On the ground, the purple flowers blossomed, releasing a sweet yet deadly aroma. “Petals of Oblivion.”

  The flower petals swirled around Gareth, each petal infused with poisonous magic, capable of killing in an instant if inhaled. “Are you sure you can face all of this?” Shulian asked, her voice calm yet challenging, as if testing Gareth’s bravery.

  Gareth took a quick breath and swung his sword. “I will not back down, even in the face of this poison!” he replied with fervent determination, his eyes blazing with spirit.

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  “Swordwind!” Gareth shouted, unleashing his energy as a wave of blue wind sliced through the petals, destroying some, but dozens more clung to his armor. The wind howled fiercely, creating a mesmerizing vortex around him.

  Shulian smiled wryly, as if appreciating Gareth’s effort. “You fight with spirit; it’s impressive. But remember, sometimes steadfastness can lead to ruin.”

  “Be careful, Sir Gareth. Not all poisons kill quickly. Sometimes, they slowly break your resolve.” Shulian’s voice dipped sharply, like a knife piercing through.

  Gareth glanced at his hand, which was starting to go numb from the effects of her magic. His breath quickened, a challenge shining in his eyes. “You are truly dangerous, my lady. But I will not fall just because of fear or pain. Keep attacking, if you can!”

  Shulian stepped closer, her voice soft yet menacing. “How many deaths have you witnessed? Do you still believe in a world that can be saved by a young man like you?” She posed the question with a tone of doubt, assessing Gareth’s spirit.

  Gareth stifled a cough, his hoarse voice still loud, as if preparing to fight against fate. “I believe… in my friends, in the people, and in anyone who still wants to wake up tomorrow. The world will be better, not because of me, but because there are people willing to endure even when they know pain.”

  Shulian smirked slightly, her hands creating a large magical circle in the air. In the center of the circle, a glowing round mirror appeared, reflecting Gareth’s image with a sorrowful gaze. “Prepare yourself, Gareth. This mirror will show you the truth you avoid.”

  From the mirror, another figure emerged—Gareth’s doppelg?nger, with eyes full of sorrow, cracked armor, and bloodied hands. “You cannot escape reality, Gareth,” it said in a hoarse voice, laden with emphasis.

  The doppelg?nger’s voice echoed darker. “How many have you failed to save, Gareth? Aren’t all your oaths just empty promises?”

  Gareth stared at the mirror, his legs trembling. “I… I will prove you wrong!” he shouted, his breath growing heavier as the poison began to creep into his chest.

  Shulian circled the battlefield, her voice whispering sharply in his ear, “Attack, shadow. Show this young knight that hope is merely a prison created by man.” Her face bore a wisdom that challenged fate.

  The shadow of Gareth swung its sword toward the original. Sir Gareth parried with the last of his strength, their swords clashing—magic from the mirror amplifying every blow of the shadow. “You must let go of that burden, Gareth!” the shadow cried, its tone dripping with cynicism.

  “Why… is your face so scarred?” Gareth asked weakly, holding off the attack. “Don’t let me end up like that.”

  The shadow retorted, “Because you forgive the world too often. Because you hold back your tears for others, then forget how to stand on your own.” Its face bore an accusatory tone, as if hinting at deep disappointment.

  Gareth staggered back, his knees nearly buckling. He closed his eyes for a moment, then sighed deeply. “I have indeed been afraid. I have regretted. But… I do not want to live without hope. If I fall tonight, I will fall as myself—not as a reflection of your rotten world, Shulian!” His voice rang out, filled with passion.

  Gareth shouted, swinging at the shadow with all his might. His sword shone brightly, striking directly at the heart of the mirror. “Now it’s up to me!” he declared, courage filling his tone.

  “Radiant Break!”

  The mirror shattered, light flooding the arena. The shadow of Gareth vanished—the remnants of the shards turning to soft dust swept away by the wind. “Look, all that you take pride in is destroyed!” Gareth shouted, his voice brimming with spirit. He glared at Shulian, his sword gleaming under the moonlight.

  Shulian stepped back, her eyes widening in shock, then she let out a soft, bittersweet laugh. “Beautiful… I didn’t expect you to shatter the mirror of my regrets. But you know, Gareth, the power you possess is a double-edged sword.” She raised her hand, gesturing to the shards of the mirror still glimmering on the ground.

  “Among all opponents, few can endure to this point.” Gareth staggered, fighting through the pain, but the light in his eyes returned. “Of course, but remember, every victory carries responsibility—are you ready for that?”

  “The world doesn’t need knights without scars, my lady. The world needs those willing to learn from their wounds.” Gareth steadied his breath, his face showing determination. Shulian bowed her head in respect, her expression a mix of honor and sorrow.

  “If only I had met someone like you earlier, perhaps my life’s history would have been different.” She bit her lip, as if holding back some secrets. “You have won today, Gareth. But do not forget—hope is easily shattered if not bound by courage.”

  “I will remember your lesson,” Gareth said, planting his sword into the ground, taking a deep breath. “But tonight, I must stand as the victor—for all who believe in hope.” He glanced at the crowd, as if seeking their support.

  Shulian smiled, then stepped back, her movements slow yet graceful, leaving the circle of duel. The light around her faded, leaving only the lingering scent of flowers in the air. She glanced back at Gareth, “May your next steps be wiser and not lost in the euphoria of victory.”

  The crowd exhaled in relief. Fitran observed Gareth from a distance, his eyes marking the victory as a sign that this young knight was truly worthy of trust. “He did it,” he murmured, a faint smile forming on his face.

  Wu Xianying looked at Shulian with a sorrowful gaze—he knew that losing a sorceress of Ma Shulian’s caliber was a significant loss for Qihuang Shin. “Ma Shulian, how can we do this without you?” he asked, his voice trembling with emotion. Shulian nodded slowly, her eyes filled with understanding. “Trust that hope will not fade even in my absence,” she replied, her voice calm, carrying a depth of wisdom.

  Nobuzan, among the ranks of Oda’s people, closed her eyes, holding back tears. She knew that Gareth’s victory was a fragile victory of hope—but for tonight, that hope was enough to keep the world from crumbling. “We will never forget your sacrifice, Ma Shulian,” Nobuzan whispered, feeling the touching emotion. She felt a gentle light, as if Ma Shulian’s last magic enveloped them.

  Gareth gazed at the sky of Yamato, his breath beginning to stabilize. He knew there were heavier duels awaiting him. “I must become stronger,” he resolved, gripping his sword tightly. But the wounds of tonight were a sign that he was truly alive—and the world, though bitter and bloody, was still worth fighting for. Before him, the shadow of Ma Shulian stood, reminding him of her words. “Be the light, not the shadow, Gareth,” she called from afar, her voice resonating like gold in the calm night.