Sylvara's Rebirth: A New Dawn for Abel novel Chapter 72

**Chapter 72: The Epic Challenge**

The atmosphere around Miralys thickened with murmurs, a cacophony of curiosity and disbelief. “Did you hear? The Agriculture chief is named Sylvara. Is she the same one they’re calling ‘Sylvaracorpse’ online? The one rumored to have connections with a Level-7 Plant Healer?”

Miralys felt a surge of anger rise within her, hot and fierce.

What kind of treachery had that witch employed to seize the chief’s position?

All those envious glances and the accolades should have belonged to someone deserving—not to Sylvara.

“Valia, why hasn’t your friend stepped up to challenge her yet?” Miralys shot back, her voice laced with impatience.

Valia cast a sidelong glare at Sylvara, who lounged on the stage with an air of superiority, as if the world revolved around her. “Calm down. Let her bask in her moment. It won’t last long,” she replied, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

Miralys clenched her fists, struggling to contain her frustration. “I’m not in a hurry. I just can’t stand watching your friend get robbed of what’s rightfully hers. That chief’s seat should be hers, not Sylvara’s.”

A sly smile crept across Valia’s lips. “Oh, it will be. Just wait and see.”

Meanwhile, Sylvara shifted uncomfortably in her throne-like chair, her gaze drifting to Veyric. “Didn’t we already wrap things up? Why are we still here?” she whispered, her brow furrowed with confusion.

Veyric leaned closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “We may have finished our discussion, but there’s one more tradition we need to observe.”

Sylvara’s expression soured. “Another tradition? What now?”

He nodded earnestly. “Every military academy has its unique customs for the opening ceremony. They’re quite similar across the board. Don’t stress about it.”

A knot of unease twisted in Sylvara’s stomach. She opened her mouth to inquire further, but Drenvar’s booming voice cut through the plaza like a thunderclap. “Students! You’ve met the freshman chiefs. Now it’s time for the challenge round!”

The crowd hushed, anticipation crackling in the air.

“Typically, each chief faces three challengers. But today, we’re shaking things up. It’s a free-for-all!”

Gasps of surprise rippled through the audience.

“Anyone who wishes to challenge may step into the designated circle. There’s no limit on the number of challengers. If you’re knocked out of the ring, you’re out. The last one standing gets the opportunity to fight the chief. If the chief wins, they’ll receive guidance from the senior chiefs.”

He paused for effect, letting the tension build. “And yes, upperclassmen can challenge their own chiefs as well. The same rules apply. Win, and you take the title.”

As Drenvar’s words hung in the air, the stage erupted with excitement, the crowd buzzing like a hive of agitated bees.

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