Lise Ravencrest

The principal of the university stepped forward, his presence commanding the attention of the entire assembly. His stature was imposing, his robes adorned with intricate patterns that shimmered in the light.

His eyes, keen and observant, scanned the crowd before he cleared his throat, his voice echoing through the stadium.

"Welcome, everyone, to the University of Clovice, where we train the best mages in the world," he began, his words resonating with authority. As he spoke, flames danced around him, casting an ethereal glow that captivated the audience. Some students erupted into applause, their excitement palpable in the air.

I watched as the other students reacted with awe and enthusiasm, their eyes wide with anticipation. While I couldn't deny the impressive display of magic, a part of me couldn't help but feel a sense of trepidation at the challenges that lay ahead.

"You all seem impressed," the principal remarked with a smirk, his grip firm on the magic microphone in his hand. "But we'd like to start by explaining something to you."

Turning to a student with an impressive ten stars on her uniform, the principal addressed her directly. She stood tall and confident, her demeanor radiating strength and determination.

"I think you've probably noticed," the principal began, gesturing to the stars on her uniform, "that here, the stronger you are, the more stars you'll have."

I listened intently as he explained the significance of the stars, feeling a knot form in my stomach at the thought of the challenges ahead.

"To explain further," the principal continued, his voice unwavering, "when you defeat twenty-five people of weak level, you'll earn yourself one star."

I furrowed my brow, mentally calculating the magnitude of such a task. It seemed like a daunting feat, but I was determined to rise to the challenge.

"And if you manage to defeat ten average-level opponents, you'll also earn a star," he added, his words sending a ripple of excitement through the crowd.

My mind raced as I considered the implications of his words. The prospect of facing off against my peers in magical combat was both thrilling and daunting.

"And finally," the principal announced, his voice booming with authority, "if you defeat a member of the Council of Ten, you'll have the opportunity to take their place."

Gasps of astonishment echoed through the stadium as the gravity of his words sank in. The Council of Ten was renowned for its formidable members, each possessing unparalleled skill and power.

"Depending on who you defeat," the principal continued, his tone grave, "you could earn anywhere between one and twenty-five stars."

The crowd erupted into a frenzy of excitement, the air crackling with anticipation. I couldn't help but feel a surge of adrenaline coursing through my veins, the prospect of facing off against some of the most skilled mages in the world both exhilarating and terrifying.

The principal's smirk widened, a gleam of mischief in his eyes as he addressed the sea of fresh faces.

"We have the chance to host one of the most powerful mages who will do us the honor of being a first-year like you," he announced, his voice laced with excitement.

"I think many of you may already know her as one of the most promising young mages." A magic circle shimmered into existence beside him, its runes glowing with an ethereal light.

" Lise Ravencrest."

From the center emerged a figure that struck a chord of recognition within me. She stood there, her long purple hair cascading over her shoulders, her red eyes piercing the crowd.

Standing on the stage, she exuded an aura of confidence that was almost tangible. Her uniform, a deviation from the standard attire, featured tailored pants that accentuated her strong, poised stance.

The fabric clung to her form, suggesting a readiness for action, a stark contrast to the flowing skirts of her peers. It was a statement of her individuality, a testament to her unorthodox approach to both fashion and magic.

Her top was a fitted blouse, the crisp white material offsetting the deep black of her pants, creating a visual harmony that was both striking and elegant. The university crest was emblazoned proudly on her chest, its colors vibrant against the monochrome backdrop.

The blazer, draped over her shoulders, was left unbuttoned, a casual defiance to the rigid structure around her.

She was the enigma who had once held a gun to my head, only to save me from a rogue demon a few weeks later. Our gazes locked for a fleeting moment, a silent acknowledgment passing between us before she turned to face the principal.

"Do you have a speech to give?" he asked, offering her the microphone. Lise's confidence was palpable as she took the stage.

"Well, I wish you all good luck," she began, her voice resonating with authority. "And I also wanted to say that I intend to take first place in the ranking in all subjects and also be first in the council of ten." An aura of power radiated from her, commanding the attention of everyone present.

Suddenly, a boy rose from his seat, his uniform adorned with seven stars. His expression was a storm of anger, his eyes blazing with challenge. He strode towards Lise, each step a declaration of his intent.

With a dramatic flourish, he removed his gloves and flung them at her feet. "I challenge you to a duel. I am the fifth member of the council of ten, and I intend to make you swallow your pride," he declared, his voice echoing through the stadium.

The crowd fell silent, the tension thick in the air. Lise regarded him with a cool, unflustered gaze, her stance unwavering.

"Challenge accepted," she replied, her voice steady and sure. I watched the scene unfold, a mix of apprehension and excitement coursing through me.