Reincarnated as a Fairy: My Magic Wings Will Soar Above This Fantasy World!

The battle between Lyra and Trainer Garan was nothing like she had imagined. The arena, with its gritty earth floor and the palpable tension in the air, seemed to grow larger with every passing second. Lyra’s heart raced as she stood in the center, her hand gripping her bow tight, every fiber of her being focused on the task ahead.

Garan’s sharp gaze didn’t let her go for a second. His face was unreadable, but his stance was one of quiet readiness. He was waiting for her to make the first move.

Lyra quickly assessed her surroundings. The arena was large enough that she could move freely, but she couldn’t afford to waste any time. Her bow was ready in her hand, the familiar weight comforting, yet the pressure of the test made her muscles tense. It was a test of not only her skill but her resolve.

“I won’t go easy on you,” Garan’s voice rang out, low and serious.

She nodded, taking a step back and pulling an arrow from her quiver. She didn’t hesitate. Lyra released the arrow with swift precision, the sound of the string snapping echoing through the arena. The arrow flew through the air, aimed directly at Garan’s chest.

But the seasoned trainer was faster. In one fluid motion, he sidestepped, the arrow missing him by mere inches. His eyes gleamed with approval, and Lyra felt a surge of determination.

“That’s the spirit,” he called. “Now, show me what else you’ve got.”

Lyra’s instincts kicked in as she swiftly notched another arrow and began to move around the arena, her wings—hidden under the illusion magic Ella had helped her create—staying folded neatly against her back. She needed every advantage, and though her wings remained concealed, the wind magic within her was still a powerful asset.

She released another shot, this time aiming for his legs, hoping to trip him. Garan dodged again, but this time, Lyra was quicker. As soon as she released the arrow, she was already preparing another, moving with fluidity, just like the wind she controlled.

Garan’s voice echoed again. “Not bad, but speed won’t win this battle.”

With that, Garan lunged forward, closing the distance between them in the blink of an eye. Lyra barely had time to react, but she quickly sidestepped, raising her bow defensively, attempting to parry the incoming strike with the shaft of her weapon. The blow was strong, but Lyra’s reflexes were sharp, and she barely managed to avoid a direct hit.

Her pulse raced as she swiftly dropped to the ground, rolling backward to create space. Garan’s eyes were focused, unblinking, studying her every move. He was no longer just testing her abilities—he was pushing her to see how she would respond under pressure.

“You can’t run forever,” Garan taunted. “You’ll have to face me sooner or later.”

Lyra’s mind whirled, her every thought focused on survival, strategy, and ultimately passing this test. She had to adapt, to think on her feet. Her eyes flicked to the rack of weapons by the side of the arena. The guild had provided the trainer with various armaments, and in her quick calculations, she realized she could turn her own magic against him.

Her elemental control was her greatest strength. She had learned to wield wind in a variety of ways, from gentle gusts to violent tempests. But she needed more than just the basics if she were to succeed.

With a deep breath, Lyra closed her eyes for a moment and focused. The wind began to stir around her, rising in intensity as she commanded it to gather. It whipped through the arena, a low hum filling the air. Garan’s posture shifted slightly, and his eyes narrowed as he sensed the change in the atmosphere.

Suddenly, with a swift movement, Lyra raised both hands and sent a powerful gust of wind toward her opponent. The force was enough to send Garan stumbling back, his feet sliding on the ground as the winds pressed against him.

The trainer regained his footing quickly, but the brief distraction was enough for Lyra to take another shot. She released an arrow with the precision of a seasoned archer, aiming for his side. The arrow hit its mark, grazing his arm.

“Good,” Garan said, a hint of respect in his voice. “That’s more like it.”

But Lyra knew this was far from over. She couldn’t afford to let her guard down, not even for a moment.

As the wind swirled around her, Lyra summoned all of her strength. She moved with purpose, releasing arrow after arrow, her wings still concealed beneath the magic. She had learned to use the wind to enhance her movements, making her strikes faster and more unpredictable.

Garan advanced again, this time with more caution. He had seen the strength in her wind manipulation, and he knew he couldn’t underestimate her. The two of them danced across the arena, their movements a blur of skill, speed, and magic.

Lyra’s confidence grew with each passing moment. She was no longer just reacting; she was strategizing. She could feel the power of the wind at her fingertips, guiding her movements and amplifying her strikes. Garan’s attacks were strong, but he was starting to realize just how well-matched they were.

The arena grew quiet as the battle continued, the only sounds being the rush of the wind and the clash of weapon against weapon. Lyra’s heart pounded in her chest, but she pushed forward, determined to prove herself. She could hear the whispers of the other guild members who had gathered around the arena, their voices hushed in anticipation.

Trainer Garan’s movements became more deliberate as he tested Lyra’s limits. He wasn’t just testing her combat skills now—he was pushing her to see how much she could take.

The two of them clashed again, their weapons locking in a struggle of strength and skill. Lyra could feel the power of her wind magic coursing through her, but it wasn’t enough to finish the battle just yet. She needed more—she needed to be able to outsmart him.

And then, with a sudden burst of inspiration, Lyra made her move.

She ducked low, using the wind to propel herself forward at incredible speed. Garan was caught off guard, unable to react in time. In the span of a heartbeat, Lyra reached him and delivered a quick strike with the blunt end of her bow to his side.

The blow wasn’t meant to harm, but it was enough to knock him off balance. As Garan stumbled back, Lyra took the opportunity to land a precise, final shot—an arrow aimed at his chest.

The shot flew true, landing directly in the center of his chest, though he quickly swatted it away with a practiced motion. But it was enough to signal the end of the battle.

Garan raised a hand, signaling the end of the test. “Well done,” he said, his voice filled with approval. “You’ve got the skills and the determination to back up your confidence. You’re ready for this guild.”

Lyra’s chest heaved with exertion, but a sense of triumph filled her heart. She had passed the test. She had proven that she was more than just a simple elf—she was an adventurer.