The courtyard of the Golden Dawn is silent. The midday sun casts long shadows across the stone floor, but all light seems to bend around one figure—Langris Vaude, Vice-Captain of the squad, and a noble whose pride is matched only by his magic.

He steps forward, his boots echoing in the hush. Spatial magic flickers in the air around him like shards of shattered glass. His eyes are fixed on Yuno.

Langris: "Yuno." His voice slices through the silence—arrogant, simmering with restrained fury. "You’ve been acting like you're above the rest of us. Like you’ve already taken the captain’s seat."

He pauses. The space between them distorts, the ground beneath his feet lightly cracking from the sheer pressure of his mana.

Langris: "Let’s settle this now." "Whoever loses... leaves the Golden Dawn."

A wave of whispers spreads through the gathered members. But neither Langris nor Yuno reacts. The wind stirs around Yuno, his expression unreadable, eyes locked with Langris's without fear.

Langris: "If you’re going to stand above others, then prove you belong there."

Without hesitation, he thrusts his hand forward—

CRACK. A spatial rift explodes open, launching toward Yuno like a collapsing star, warping everything in its path. Chunks of the courtyard vanish into nothing.

The duel begins—not as a contest between comrades, but as a clash between two forces who refuse to kneel.