Artemis Valkyria stood in the centre of the underground Arena of Trials, bathed under the harsh radiance of a spotlight operated by dedicated Tier 1 mages. The rest of the Arena, except for the door through which her opponent would enter was plunged into darkness for dramatic effect. Her steel wings glittered under the light, while in sharp contrast, her dark metallic armour soaked it in.

It was a thing of visceral beauty, her armour. Sleek and streamlined, it covered each inch of her body seamlessly; the joints sealed shut by an elastic, nearly liquid metal. Made from orichalcum – the hardest, most mana-resistant metal known – it provided protection against both physical and magical threats. An intricate network of mithril ran throughout the interior of the armour like silvery veins, allowing her to conduct mana through it even when her opponent couldn't.

The only visible parts of her were her hawk-like grey eyes glowing faintly silver within the depths of her helmet. Artemis had morphed only her eyes into that of her Feral form for the match, expecting to use the increased clarity of her vision to her advantage.

The armour wasn’t just one thick sheet of metal. It had been crafted from several thin wafers joined together with narrow gaps left between them. The gaps had then been drained of air and vacuum-sealed, resulting in a reduction of the weight of the armour while simultaneously soundproofing it. This was quite an important feature as the most common means mages used to bypass armour during close-combat altercations was by using vibrational attacks like focused shockwaves of sound. It did make her deaf within the armour, but that was a small price to pay. Coupled with orichalcum’s natural mana isolation capabilities preventing shadow mages from piercing through the armour with their Aspect of Space, the only thing she really had to worry about was if someone actually cut through or crushed her armour.

And there were thousands of tiny runes engraved upon its interior, connected to the mithril mana conduits. They packed a nasty surprise for anyone who thought that defending was all her armour could do.

She had commissioned it from the Iron Bear in celebration of reaching Tier 3, training with it extensively till it felt like a second skin. And when she had reached the peak of the Tier and begun participating in the Trials of Justice, it had served her well. She had debated not using it for today’s match as it seemed like too much of an unfair advantage, but then decided to use it anyway. After all, she hadn’t won duel after duel against seasoned opponents fighting desperately for their lives by underestimating them.

Her sword unsheathed, its tip embedded in the ground and her gauntleted hands resting on its pommel; her mind focused, unheeding of the tumultuous discussion of the audience gathered to watch their duel… She waited.

She didn’t have to wait long.

Mars Felidae emerged from the entrance on the opposite end of the Arena, stepping into the spotlight that was focused there. The circle of light moved along with him as he strode forward and took his station opposite her.

Artemis’ piercing eyes studied him, taking in his straight-back and confident demeanour. She wondered what could possibly be the source of that confidence while also noting that he was unarmed and unarmoured. He returned the favour, studying her in turn. His crimson eyes widened as they trailed over her armour – his mood vacillating ever so slightly before returning to that determined self-poise. Artemis recognized it. It was a battle-calm developed over the course of multiple life or death experiences. It was an essential factor that separated a veteran warrior from a rookie. She was extremely impressed with the boy for possessing it at such a young age. It showed that his merits weren’t just for show.

With both of the protagonists for the duel gathered, floodlights were lit all around the Arena, illuminating its entire circular extent with a patchy brilliance and leaving enough darkness for a Shadow mage to use. Some of the lights pointed up at the domed ceiling, making the fluorescent moss covering it gleam a neon blue.

The audience stands, too, were lit by a dimmer, more uniform lighting, revealing the densely packed rows of spectators.

The front row seats were reserved for the journalists and speed-painters (water mages with a talent for manipulating ink to make photorealistic paintings) as well as for the most important of the spectators: The members of the Council and the Emperor. Even the famously reclusive Empress, who usually avoided such lively occasions, had made an appearance and was sitting beside her husband. Princess Venus too was present with her family, although she had to keep her face veiled as tradition dictated that the bride could not show her face in public until she chose her husband during a Swayamvar.

The movers and shakers of the Capital had turned out in full strength. Ranging from prominent businessmen and administrators to the representatives of hereditary nobles; none had absented the event. There were even military personnel among the stands, as well as a S-ranked team of Delvers representing the Adventurer union.

A bored-looking researcher from the Academy lounged in his seat, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. In contrast, another group from the Academy – a group of female mages from the battle-mage division – occupied an entire section, cheering enthusiastically and holding up a large banner that bore the words: “Victory to the Princess and down with the Philanderer.”

The corner of Mars’ eye twitched at that and he almost dropped out of his mental state of the Void. He had heard that the First Princess was extremely popular among the female section of the youth and that many young women took her as their role-model for her strength and independence. It appeared that her fans weren’t too happy about him trying to alter her marital status.

At first, he had thought that there wouldn't be very many people in attendance for the duel but Ceres had set him straight. She had informed him that the stands would be packed, not because the attendees were particularly interested in who won, but because of the banquet that would be held afterwards. It would be the first such gathering of leaders from all walks of society after the Shogunate’s invasion. Many would attend just to gauge the political climate and the attitude of the Council. It was a chance to forge new alliances to better deal with and even profit from the current situation.

She had made it clear that if he won the duel, then this would be the best possible debut in high-society he could hope for. Of course, the entire Empire would know of his loss by the next day if he didn’t. No pressure.

It was Mars’ first time with so many gazes fixed upon him, appraising him, judging his worth. He was understandably nervous. Even his stint upon the Firang wall had been different. They were focused on the enemy then, not so exclusively on him. If it wasn’t for the emotion draining aspect of the Void, he would have been suffering from a strong case of stage fright right about now.

The sight of Artemis’ armour had nearly knocked him out of the Void as well. With that kind of protective shell, his chances of winning had just shrunk drastically.

It wasn’t that he couldn't afford armour for himself. No, quite the opposite actually. In the last week he had been swamped by offers of free equipment from various weaponsmiths and merchants, several of whom were in attendance today. With their sharp noses for business, they had smelt the underlying opportunity for advertisement in the duel. Unfortunately, he had to reject them all. He just wasn’t used to wearing armour and trying to adapt to something new a week before a duel was the pinnacle of idiocy. He might as well just forfeit.

Searching for his wives among the stands and finding them waving at him supportively from the first row, Mars took a deep breath. Connecting with the wind mana in the air, he centred himself, waiting for the announcement for the fight to begin. Armour or no, he would give it his all and leave the results up to providence. As a martial warrior, he owed himself and his opponent that.

The Emperor’s voice amplified by wind magic rang out throughout the Arena, silencing the clamour of the audience. “We are gathered here today to witness the duel between Our first daughter, Princess Artemis Valkyria, and Our Vassal, Mars Felidae, for her hand in marriage. We shall not introduce them or their prior achievements – their worth will be demonstrated by them upon the stage shortly – but We shall take the liberty to state that these two are among the foremost talents of the younger generation and the future pillars of the Empire. There is much honour in victory, but no dishonour in defeat.

“Young warriors, display your abilities heartily. Do not worry about injuring each other; for your safety is in capable hands.”

Artemis raised her sword and Mars settled into a low battle-stance.

“Without much further ado, We announce the commencement of the duel.” Raising his hand, the Emperor brought it slashing down. “Begin!”