The entire arena was filled with an electrifying tension as the two princes stood face to face, their bodies radiating heat and power. Every pair of eyes in the stadium was locked on them, anticipation boiling to its peak.
CIVILIAN 1: "Oh ho! This is way beyond my imagination!"
CIVILIAN 2: "This is why I used my emergency leave!"
CIVILIAN 3: "Oh my god, they're that strong at the age of 18?!"
Huorin and Rocyan started walking towards each other, their eyes locked in a fierce gaze. Each step they took echoed across the silent arena. Then, as if a silent cue had been given, both of them exploded into motion.
Huorin thrust one leg into the ground, using the burst of flames to elevate himself. As he spun mid-air, he thrust with his other leg, increasing the force of his rotation before delivering a devastating 180-degree flaming kick towards Rocyan. The sheer power behind the kick sent a fiery shockwave through the air.
Rocyan raised his forearm to block, his chain dagger coiled around it to absorb the impact. Still, the force of the blow sent him skidding back as flames licked at his clothes. Without missing a beat, Rocyan activated an explosion rune in his boots, rocketing himself into the air alongside Huorin. As he soared, he uncoiled his chain dagger and lashed it toward Huorin's midsection.
Huorin barely managed to twist his body in time, avoiding a direct hit, but the dagger scraped against his side, cutting through his red silk dress. The explosion rune on the dagger ignited, sending a concussive force that launched Huorin downward. He slammed into the ground with a heavy crash, dust and embers rising around him.
Rocyan, smirking, let his dagger whirl around him like a deadly serpent.
ROCYAN: "That marks the end."
As he landed, Rocyan pressed his hand to the ground. The moment his palm touched the arena floor, a massive mana web began forming around Huorin. The crowd gasped as the glowing embers of the web ignited into a violent eruption.
CIVILIAN 4: "What the—that's too much...!"
CIVILIAN 5: "Is that Ember Well? How can he use intermediate magic at his age?!"
ROYAL GATE ACADEMY PRINCIPAL: "Has he already reached Captain rank?"
The sea of flames roared toward Huorin, consuming him in a pillar of fire. Rocyan let out a slow breath, certain of his victory. But then—
HUORIN: "Oi… You aren't bad."
From within the inferno, Huorin's silhouette stood firm. His red eyes gleamed through the flames as he raised his sword. The air around him trembled as mana surged.
HUORIN: "Sixth Form—Falling Sun!"
A massive ball of fire formed above him, pulsating with sheer power. Rocyan's eyes widened in awe and horror as the blazing orb descended upon him with the fury of a dying star. He barely managed to fling his chain dagger upward, trying to slice through the fireball, but the sheer force of the attack overwhelmed him. Flames engulfed him, and in a split second, he was sent crashing into the ground, his entire body smoking.
The crowd erupted in a deafening cheer.
CROWD: "CHEERS!!!"
The Emperor, watching from his throne, stroked his beard thoughtfully.
EMPEROR: "So, he's already learned the Sixth Form. This changes things."
CIVILIAN 1: "What the hell?! I thought the Second Prince won!"
CIVILIAN 3: "At the end, the older one still won."
CIVILIAN 2: "Prince Rocyan, you can't lose! Get up! Use some ultimate technique to change the tables! This is not why I used my emergency leave!"
ANNOUNCER: "The Crown Prince wins the match!"
As Rocyan lay on the ground, staring at the sky, he let out a small laugh. Despite losing, a smile crept onto his lips.
ROCYAN: "Damn… That was fun."
Huorin extended a hand toward him.
HUORIN: "Get up. You fought well."
Rocyan grabbed his brother's hand, and with a final explosion from his boots, he pulled himself upright, standing before the roaring crowd as the rightful heir to the throne emerged victorious.
The atmosphere around the Grand Arena of Astra was crackling with tension, the stone seats packed to the brim with nobles, warriors, and commoners alike. The duel between the two Princes had already left the audience in disbelief, yet as the dust settled, a different kind of storm brewed. The bloodline feud—the ancient, smoldering tension between the Cosmor and Celvic clans—was about to erupt in its most volatile form.
ANNOUNCER: "Next match! Ren Cosmor of the Cosmor Clan versus Myuham Celvic of the Celvic Clan!"
Gasps and murmurs rippled through the crowd. Everyone knew the history. Once united under the Celestial Clan banner, a bitter feud between two prodigal brothers centuries ago had shattered the unity. One took the name Cosmor, the other Celvic. Since then, every generation bore the weight of that ancient rivalry.
The two young warriors walked into the arena. Ren Cosmor's crimson hair flared in the wind, his twin swords sheathed behind his back radiating heat. He carried himself with a casual arrogance, grinning like a devil about to cause mischief.
Myuham Celvic wore a dark cloak adorned with silver chain emblems, his two chain daggers loosely coiled at his hips like serpents. He had an eye patch on his left eye today—some said it was aesthetic, others said it was a sealed technique.
REN: "You look like a chained-up dog today, Myu. Is that your leash showing?"
MYUHAM: "Better than a walking barbecue skewer. Don't burn yourself swinging those overgrown forks."
The audience laughed nervously. But those closer to the front could feel it—the aura clashing before the fight even began. The temperature around Ren spiked, while Myuham's shadow twisted unnaturally on the arena floor.
COSMOR ELDER: "Ren! Today, end the feud! Burn the shame we bore for centuries!"
CELVIC ELDER: "Myuham, humiliate him. Let your chains tear his arrogance limb from limb!"
ANNOUNCER: "Begin!"
And like that, the two shot forward like bullets.
Ren's swords flashed, twin trails of crimson slicing arcs into the air. Myuham's daggers extended, dancing in chaotic spirals. The first clash rang like a scream—metal meeting metal with such force that the stone tiles beneath them cracked.
Ren spun, unleashing the First Form: Crimson Fang—a wave of flame surged with his sword's horizontal slash. Myuham ducked, whipping one dagger in a wide loop, activating a rune—Death Fang: Grasping Serpent—and the dagger snaked through the flames, wrapping around Ren's arm.
REN: "Cheap tricks won't work on me, you chain magician!"
He yanked his arm back, but Myuham jumped into a flip, using the chain's tension to slingshot himself over Ren, trying to kick him in the face. Ren ducked, headbutted Myuham mid-air, sending him spinning.
MYUHAM: "Oof—what are you, a goat!?"
REN: "Just butting heads with clowns."
The crowd roared with laughter, but the elders weren't amused.
COSMOR GUARDIAN: "Stop joking and use the Third Form! Show the Celvic his place!"
CELVIC MISTRESS: "Wrap your chain around his tongue, Myuham! Shut him up!"
They obeyed, but in their own way. Ren charged forward, both blades igniting.
Ren: Hellfire Sword – Third Form: Twin Suns Descent! He brought both swords down in an X, flames exploding outward.
Myuham deflected the attack by activating Death Dagger – Second Form: Spiral Maze. His chains twisted into concentric loops, absorbing and redirecting the fireblast upward like a tornado. The sky above lit up orange, as if sunset had come early.
CIVILIAN 1: "They're gonna blow up the whole arena!"
CIVILIAN 2: "Someone stop them! This is beyond a match now!"
CIVILIAN 3: "My drink turned into vapor!"
Ren kicked through the remaining fire, reaching Myuham and landing a clean punch across his face.
MYUHAM: "Ow! That's not swordplay, idiot!"
REN: "Said the guy who fights with kitchen chains."
They wrestled midair now, weapons forgotten for a moment, throwing jabs, headbutts, elbow strikes, and even the occasional finger-flick-to-the-forehead.
A huge explosion rang out as they clashed again. Both stumbled back, blood on their lips, but smiling.
Myuham activated his most dangerous technique. Death Dagger – Third Form: Guillotine Vortex! His twin daggers spiraled into a sphere of death, chaining faster than the eye could track.
Ren replied with: Hellfire Sword – Fifth Form: Infernal Lotus! A massive spiral of flames surrounded his swords, forming a burning flower as he dashed into the storm.
The attacks met. BOOM.
A massive shockwave flattened parts of the arena edge. Pieces of debris flung toward the crowd—barriers barely held.
CIVILIAN 4: "I came here to watch not get barbequed!"
CIVILIAN 5: "Are they still alive?!"
Smoke billowed out from the center. Slowly, the silhouettes of the two warriors became visible—still standing. Still glaring.
REN: "That all you got, emo-boy?"
MYUHAM: "Your breath smells like roasted rat, royal-burnt-toast."
They both lifted their weapons again.
COSMOR CROWD: "Ren! Finish him! Show the might of the Inferno Lineage!"
CELVIC CROWD: "Myuham! Prove you're the deadliest Celvic since the split!"
The pressure became unbearable.
Ren and Myuham roared and dashed at each other with lethal intent—
Only to have their blades stopped an inch from each other.
By a single hand.
The announcer stood between them, palm extended, his hand clutching both weapons with perfect stillness.
ANNOUNCER: "That's enough."
The silence was instant. The flames died, chains uncoiled, and even the wind stopped.
ANNOUNCER: "This match ends in a draw."
Both Ren and Myuham blinked. They tried to push their weapons forward, but couldn't.
ANNOUNCER: "You'd destroy this arena before either of you won. You're both reckless, hot-headed, and annoyingly talented. Congratulations. Now go cool off."
He released their blades, stepping back.
Ren sheathed his swords, smirking. REN: "I'll beat you next time. Without an old man interrupting."
Myuham recoiled his chains with a click. MYUHAM: "You can try, fire-head. Just don't cry when your fans switch sides."
The crowd exploded in cheer, partly out of awe, partly out of relief.
CIVILIAN 1: "I aged ten years watching that!"
CIVILIAN 3: "Those two are walking disasters!"
The Cosmor and Celvic clans stared at each other from across the stadium. Despite their hatred, they both shared a single thought:
"This generation... might finally settle the score."
And with that, the stage was set for even greater chaos to come.
RANDOM CIVILIAN 1: I hope the upcoming matches don't push the boundaries like the last one…RANDOM CIVILIAN 2: With prodigies like these, this generation might just conquer the continent.RANDOM CIVILIAN 3: And to think… there are still two more matches to go.
(Meanwhile, atop the imperial balcony, two prominent figures observe the arena: the Imperial Adviser, an aged man known for his wisdom, and the Imperial Commander, a decorated veteran whose presence alone instills order.)
Imperial Adviser (with a deep sigh): The emergence of so many gifted individuals in a single generation… It is no mere coincidence. I fear it heralds the arrival of something far greater—something catastrophic.Imperial Commander (nodding solemnly): Indeed. The entire continent stirs with unease. Every nation lies on edge, preparing for what may be the inevitable... The Fourth War of Fall.
Imperial Adviser: Intelligence reports suggest the rise of numerous prodigious figures across various countries. The most concerning among them is the Red Thunder of the Voltveins from Thundergun.Imperial Commander: And the recent emergence of Lily and the so-called Saint of Amizhvara... the political equilibrium won't hold much longer.
Imperial Adviser (gritting his teeth): If not for the intervention of that man… We might have secured complete victory in the Third War.Imperial Commander (his expression darkens): Yes… The War Monarch. His power shifted the tide. His presence alone dismantled our final offensive.Imperial Adviser: He even took the Last Sunflower from us… that cursed thief of fate.
(They both fall silent for a moment, gazing at the next two competitors walking onto the field.)
ANNOUNCER (raising his voice to the audience): Are you ready for the next match?!
CROWD (roaring in excitement): YES!!
ANNOUNCER: Then prepare yourselves for the third match of the ceremony! A clash between two prodigies of flame and light—Meena Meril of CLARON and Tency Emberlin of ASHES
CROWD: ANOTHER BATTLE OF PRODIGIES!!!
(The energy in the arena surges again.)
Imperial Adviser (quietly, almost to himself): Perhaps… this generation truly does have the potential to change the world.Imperial Commander (with a faint smile): Then it is our duty to clear the thorns from their path.
(The two watch as the battlefield lights up once more, their sighs mingling with the winds of a future uncertain, yet brimming with promise.)
NEXT CHAPTER ----------------> THE UNEXPECTED SURPRISE