Princess’s Struggle for Survival

Sunlight poured down, Iris's purple hair swaying wildly in the flowing breeze, the wings formed by psychic energy behind her continuously fanning the air currents, causing even the tip of her sword to burst with tiny, sharp wind vortices.

Lyra felt as though an invisible force was pressing her entire body down onto the ground. Even moving her fingers was extremely difficult; let alone lift the sword to point its blade at Iris Kroid, the one above releasing magic.

Metal rustled suddenly. The tiles near her knight's boots cracked and sank, the splashing soil fragments not even having the chance to bounce upward before being pinned down. Some small pieces failed to fully form, crushed directly into powder by immense force.

Due to the viewing angle, the audience in the stands actually saw the battle more clearly than the current Lyra.

In their eyes, centered on the pink-haired girl, the originally flat ground had sunken into a semicircular deep pit, continuing to expand radially under the influence of some special power, the cracks on the tiles deepening and spreading continuously.

The pain-suppressing magic effect was gradually fading. Lyra vaguely felt a numb tingling sensation in her legs beneath her, her knees involuntarily trying to bend, forcing her to collapse onto the ground.

Not only movement, but even physiological activities including breathing were becoming exceptionally difficult.

Under the pressure crushing, Lyra felt air could no longer enter her lungs. The sharp tip of her sword pierced the soil, slicing through bricks as effortlessly as cutting tofu.

High in the sky, Iris looked down at the struggling Lyra, her pupils unintentionally revealing a hint of astonishment. The sword aura she had been preparing wasn't immediately unleashed.

As a royal family-exclusive treasure of the Kingdom of Velys, 'Kingdom' possessed among the highest lethality and destructive power within its magic category.

Its specific mechanism involves using arcane particles to amplify the gravity around the target, causing the opponent to suffer excessive physical damage under immense pressure, thereby losing combat capability.

Even an early tier Magnus of the same tier will succumb to its oppressive might. The point of Iris' confusion lay precisely here, given Lyra's peak tier Sorcerer-level mental quality, she shouldn't still be standing here unscathed.

Especially since she was wearing that sturdy armor forged from light elements, which should have subjected her to even greater gravitational force.

Her gaze sweeping over the girl's pale, tightly pressed lips, Iris focused on the bright silver armor radiating a holy aura, quickly understanding the crux of the issue.

Although the armor's outer material resembled solid iron, capable of blocking sword slashes and stabs, it was still fundamentally composed of light-element particles, thus possessing no actual weight. Therefore, it wouldn't be affected by 'Kingdom' as the final straw crushing Lyra.

Furthermore, besides blocking physical damage, the Holy Light Armor also possesses extreme resistance against magic. Iris noticed that some arcane particles adhering to the armor's surface were no longer responding to her mental control, their underlying logic becoming chaotic and disordered, thus naturally unable to execute the magical effects corresponding to Kingdom.

However, what remained was already sufficient.

"Lyra..."

Lifting her sword, the icy, cutting sharpness at its tip seemed to pierce through space and time, directly landing on Lyra's cheek.

Iris stood high above, her wings trembling and stirring rolling gusts of wind. She raised her sword, her skirt fluttering, backlit by the sun like an angel judging sinners.

"Will you continue?"

This wasn't arrogance born of assured victory, merely Iris' assessment of the current situation, offering Lyra a chance to surrender and avoid further injury.

After all, under Kingdom's deprivation of movement, it was nearly impossible for Lyra to evade the next lethal strike.

The moment the woman finished speaking, Lyra struggled to lift her head, her teeth biting through her lips. A liquid with the scent of rust quietly spread across her tongue.

Was it blood, or the feeling of impending defeat?

The bitter taste slides from her tongue all the way to her heart. Lyra used all her strength to pull the Sword of Light deeply embedded in the tiles, but the next second, the enormous pressure, like sinking into the deep sea, piled onto her wrist, forcing the already-pulled-out knight's sword back into the soil.

Iris watched Lyra struggling against the effects , continuing to gather sword aura. Wild winds form a tornado, mixed with deafening thunder. Wind and lightning twisted together, converting entirely into a single sword.

"If that sword doesn't possess further special abilities, then Lyra's journey should end here."

Gazing at the pink-haired girl trapped in dire straits in the arena, Hibbort spoke in a low voice, his hands crossed against his knees.

Astrid, upon hearing this, didn't shift her gaze from Lyra. After a moment, she gently spoke.

"It does indeed seem that way."

At this moment, regardless of whether they truly supported Lyra, nearly all spectators below had concluded that the lone survivor's defeat was merely a matter of time.

Seeing Lyra's back still rigidly straight, and those resilient, clear sky-blue eyes staring directly at her, Iris received her answer from the girl's actions. Her wrist bent, releasing the sword aura several times stronger than before.

'It ends here, Lyra.'

'Having fought her to this extent, you, the one watched by the gods, have already reached the limit of what a peak tier Sorcerer can achieve.'

The destructive sword aura severed the blazing light blocking Lyra's front, the gushing wind carrying lightning directly rushed toward its target.

In the wind, Iris heard Lyra softly chanting an incantation.

"Illuminating the world, dividing chaos, light..."

In the pit, the light covering the tile-mud surface was drawn, transforming into thousands of rising spears of light.

The sword aura howled past, severing several light spears in succession. The remaining few still stand, directly attacking Iris.

'Even unable to dodge this strike, she still wants to attack me?'

Watching the light spears rapidly enlarging before her eyes, Iris nimbly turned, her sword horizontally cleaving, even the light in its intangible state being bisected by the psychic energy attached to the blade.

Easily neutralizing Lyra's offensive, Iris hovered mid-air, confirming that her total psychic energy consumption hadn't even reached a quarter, then looked down at her opponent.

The sword aura continuously weaved through the crisscrossing light spears, having its sharpness somewhat diminished, ultimately blocked by the Sword of Light Lyra exerted all her strength to lift.

She actually succeeded in pulling out the sword? Iris raised an eyebrow, involuntarily gaining a bit more admiration for Lyra deep down.

As the caster of Kingdom, Iris naturally understood how terrifying this spell was.

Even if it were herself, she probably couldn't so easily break free from its restraint.

On the path paved with light, Lyra lifted her head and retrieved the sword deeply embedded in the ground, panting heavily as she wiped the blood seeping from the corner of her lips.

The pain-suppressing magic effect had completely dissolved. Intense pain shot through her wrist. Her shoulders, knees, ankles, none were unharmed, all burning with needle-like stings.

Lyra felt as if she had been tied to some giant wheel, rolling from a high slope all the way to the foot of the mountain, her entire body about to be crushed and torn apart by force.

Such a terrifying magic... There's simply no flaw to find...

Even her heart seemed bound by gravity, continuously sinking, each beat difficult. Compared to her limbs, Lyra's internal organs were more fragile and thus more susceptible to Kingdom's influence.

"Your perseverance is admirable, Miss Lyra."

Iris spoke softly, her gaze sincerely fixed on Lyra.

"If you could reach the Early tier Magnus level, I might truly be defeated by you."

"I merely have a bit more study time than Miss Lyra, or rather, I was born a year earlier."

Against a strong enemy, determined to admit defeat was indeed praised worthy, but reality was reality, hardly something easily changed by personal will.

Even if she blocked this attack, the current Lyra was merely a spent arrow, while she hadn't even used half her psychic energy.

Raising her sword again, she released the exact same sword aura as before, once more slashing towards the target. This time, Lyra didn't choose to meet it with light spears. Instead, she gathered all the light points scattered across the ground before her, converging them into a dazzling, shield-like light barrier.

The sword aura collided with the shield. Two entities normally without physical form produce sparks as if solid, instantly scattering light fragments. The burst of brilliance momentarily even eclipsed the sun's radiance.

Astrid slightly narrowed her eyes, her hand partially shielding her brow. Other spectators instinctively close their eyes, avoiding direct view of the arena before them.

At the collision's epicenter, where sword met shield in the hall, Lyra blankly stared at the light shield crumbling before her eyes, her sky-blue lenses reflecting semicircular arcs of light.

The dazzling light shield developed spiderweb-like cracks, like ice struck by meteoric iron. The crystalline, snowflake-patterned light was gradually stripped of its original structure by the wind blades, the slender translucent prisms in the air growing smaller and smaller, eventually turning into firefly-like specks of light.

Despite still being within Kingdom's influence, Lyra seemed to see dust floating in the air. These entities far smaller than mayflies became traces through which light passed, manifesting before her as observable "paths" visible to the human eye.

The wind blades continued forward. The cracks on the back of the light shield expanded, ultimately causing the entire shield to completely disintegrate. In Lyra's eyes, all the previously gathered light turned into chaotic wisps, continuous wave-like rays, and scattered, tiny light points resembling miniature glass beads.

Then, the wind blade struck her high-raised holy sword. Light burst and scattered in that instant, dyeing her vision completely bright white.

There was nothing more to see, only light filling the entire sky and earth.

To others, it happened quickly, but to Lyra, it felt as slow and prolonged as if time had been stretched. The mere half-second of the blade breaking through the light shield played out in her mind for a full minute.

After shattering the light shield, the complete sword aura disintegrated into numerous sheet-like wind blades. Some scattered and shot toward the surrounding ground, while others struck Lyra's armor, causing her figure to tremble slightly.

Keenly sensing Lyra's aura becoming somewhat unstable, Iris, positioned above, eyes slightly sharpened, did not immediately deliver the next strike that would secure her victory.

This sensation is... early tier Magnus?

Not just Iris, even Hibbort far in the audience realized the change in Lyra. The man turned his head, glanced at Astrid, then at the distant stand, lightly tapping his fingers on the armrest of his chair, internally considering whether to call for an early halt to the match.

Her deep red eyes reflect that faint pink silhouette. Astrid instinctively straightened her back, her crossed legs quietly softened.

Indeed, all web novels inevitably revolve around two phrases: level-up challenges and on-the-spot breakthroughs. Even "The Innocent Knight of the Stained Light" was no exception.

Lyra had already completed the former. Now, at the climax of her final battle against Iris, under the latter's continuous high-pressure assault, Lyra had finally begun her own transformation.

Her mental energy, long having reached its limit, began to surge continuously, becoming clearer and more distinct than ever before. The ripples of mental energy pulsing through the air resembled living heartbeats, strong and powerful, one after another.

Around the hall, some weaker but spectators also keenly sensed something. Even Linda, who had frequent contact with Lyra, and Lydia, who often had afternoon tea with Astrid and had met the former, slightly opened their mouths, eyes filled with disbelief.

The leap from Sorcerer to Magnus normally requires several years even for ordinary people. Even for these prodigies blessed with family resources and continuously optimized noble bloodlines, such a massive advancement was difficult to achieve in a short time.

Lyra, born a commoner, had managed such tremendous progress within just two years, and now, at this moment, as the underdog not favored before the tournament, she has undergone yet another power transcendence on the finals stage under everyone's watchful eyes.

Should one say she truly lives up to being the one chosen by Princess Astrid? Indeed, she possesses extraordinary special exceptional qualities.

Yet, amidst their astonishment, many are also worried for Lyra, especially academy professors who had personally experienced the transition from Sorcerer to Magnus.

They clearly understood the time and effort required for this phase, and also recognized the inherent danger. If forcibly interrupted by external forces, Lyra might either fail the breakthrough and need to seek another opportunity, or suffer severe soul damage, affecting her future.

Above the arena, Iris watched Lyra's body wrapped in residual light, remained silent for a long time, retracted the wild winds swirling around her blade, let the wings of solidified psychic energy dissipate, and gently descended to the ground.

Has she gained some inspiration from combat, thus achieving an on-the-spot breakthrough?

'Lyra Beckett... truly every action of yours falls beyond my expectations…'

The sound of sky-blue boots stepping on tiles was crisp. Iris tidied her purple hair scattered behind her, standing tens of meters away from Lyra, gripping her long sword, quietly waiting like a delicate lotus.