A long, ancient dungeon hallway, lit by evenly spaced torches, echoed with the prince's footsteps and low muttering.
“I cannot afford to lose,” James muttered to himself. “Not today… Not tomorrow… Not ever.”
He paused before a heavy wooden door at the end of the corridor. “Failure is a choice…”
Pushing the door open, he stepped into a dimly lit room packed with shelves of bubbling vials and brewing potions. Demon claws, severed nails, tufts of hair, and jagged teeth—every imaginable trophy that could be harvested from a demon—sat preserved inside glass jars, each bearing a sloppy, hand-written label.
Standing in the center of the laboratory was a figure shrouded in a heavy cloak, their face completely obscured by a featureless golden mask. They were methodically mixing two substances from separate vials.
James cleared his throat, breaking the silence. “Have you finished it?”
The cloaked figure responded in a deep, echoing voice. “Patience, my child. Dark magic is an art. It shouldn’t be rushed if you want to achieve the most desirable results.”
James laughed nervously, trying to brush it off. “Yeah, whatever. I was just checking on the progress. I have a formal duel two days from now, and I cannot afford to lose.”
“But you never lose… At least, not that I am aware of,” the cloaked figure replied without looking up.
“I don’t intend to wait around for my first defeat. Whatever advantage I can get, I take, because success is the only thing that matters,” James said, his eyes flashing with ambition. “No matter the price.”
The cloaked figure clicked their tongue in disapproval. “That is exactly how my former masters got themselves killed. Arrogance can only get you so far. I hope you are smart enough to avoid their fate.”
James scoffed. “Whatever, just give me anything. I have training, and I need enhancers.”
The cloaked figure sighed, placing their current vials back onto a rack before bending down to retrieve a luxurious-looking chest from a lower compartment.
When they flipped it open, the interior revealed itself to be heavily padded with a vibrant, fuchsia-pink foam. Several unique vials rested perfectly in the center, filled with a dark, murky liquid that seemed to lazily swirl on its own.
“These potions will enhance everything about you—your raw magic, strength, speed… everything,” the cloaked figure explained, lifting the chest. “But use them sparingly. Do not drink more than two vials in a single day.”
James didn't even wait for the full warning. He snatched the vials right out of the container and stuffed them deep into his pockets.
“Heh… I guess you’re useful after all,” James sneered, turning on his heel and striding toward the heavy exit door.
“That’s a unique way of thanking someone,” the cloaked figure remarked dryly, not even looking up as they went right back to mixing their substances.
It didn’t take long for James to reach the castle training grounds, which were lined with wooden practice targets. He quickly popped open two vials and poured them down his throat, chugging the murky liquid as if it were the finest wine. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he carelessly tossed the empty glass vials onto the stone ground, letting them shatter into pieces.
James rolled his neck, letting out a sharp, satisfying crack. “Mmmm…”
He closed his eyes. Instantly, a dark, heavy aura began to bleed from his skin, wrapping around his body like smoke. When he snapped his eyes back open, his pupils were glowing with an intense, predatory red light.
“What is this…? This power…” James gasped, flexing his fingers as his entire body suddenly felt a thousand times lighter.
He thrust his right arm forward, aiming directly at the cluster of training dummies. In a fraction of a second, a torrent of pitch-black fire erupted from his palm. The moment the dark flames collided with the first target, it violently exploded—shattering the surrounding dummies into splinters and blasting a deep crater right into the soil.
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James threw his head back and laughed, his voice echoing across the courtyard. “This feels… so good.”
Driven by the sudden rush of power, he bolted out of the training grounds and lunged into the nearby forest, raising both palms toward the dense treeline.
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Dark fireballs shot from his hands in rapid succession. The forest erupted in a chain of violent explosions, the black flames instantly vaporizing the trees and spreading hungrily through the brush.
He leaped high into the air, testing his new limits, before slamming violently back down onto the grass. The sheer force of his impact shook the earth, spiderwebbing a massive crack through the dirt beneath his shoes.
James continued to push his body, sprinting at blurring speeds and effortlessly shattering massive stone boulders into dust with his bare fists.
“So this is what it feels like to have real power… It feels good… It feels so good!” James burst into an unhinged laughter, continuously blasting the surrounding treeline and turning entire oaks into heaps of ash.
Suddenly, a seductive, purring feminine voice echoed directly inside his mind.
“It really does feel good, doesn’t it? You can beat Arthur miserably now. You can do whatever you want with this much power… No one can oppose you. No one can challenge you. Everyone will fear you.”
James’s smirk grew wide and twisted. “That’s right.”
The next day, within the stone walls of the castle in the Kingdom of Eirene, a messenger guard from Sideropyr knelt down on one knee, delivering the formal summons to King Sinclair.
“A formal duel? But with whom?” King Sinclair asked, his tone filled with curiosity.
“With a student named Arthur from the Phoenix Academy,” the guard replied.
“I’ve never heard of that name. But whoever he is, he is certainly bold to take on the prince,” King Sinclair remarked before waving his hand to dismiss the guard.
As the doors closed, the former queen stepped out from a private side chamber and entered the throne room. “I overheard everything.”
“Mother? What are you doing here?” King Sinclair asked, turning toward her.
“Just like you, I wish to witness this fight,” the former queen remarked, gazing thoughtfully at the floor. “I’ve never heard of the name Arthur… it doesn't ring a bell. Yet, somehow… his name brings me a strange sense of comfort. I wonder why.”
King Sinclair nodded slowly. “I trust your gut instincts, Mother. Whoever he is, he must be incredibly powerful to challenge the prince of Sideropyr himself.”
Meanwhile, back at the academy, Flora was peacefully watering potted plants along the side of the main building until she suddenly spotted a movement far in the distance—one that only she could detect.
“Hm?”
She set her green watering can down and knelt, touching her palm directly to the soil before closing her eyes. Instantly, her senses worked like a radar, mapping out the entire area through the roots and earth.
Locating the exact point of suspicion, she liquefied her body and turned into a puddle, getting absorbed completely by the ground. Moments later, she emerged right at the source of the abnormal mana frequency.
Flora looked around, trying to pinpoint the exact location, until she was suddenly ambushed by a horde of demons lurking in the surrounding bushes.
I see. Thanks to Eleanor fortifying the academy’s magic barrier, the closest range a demon can spawn has increased. They’re almost stuck at the outskirts, she thought to herself.
The demon horde didn't hesitate, immediately lunging at her the moment she drew near.
Flora’s emerald eyes glowed with a brilliant light. In a split second, thousands of thick vines sprung violently from the earth, wrapping around every single demon in her vicinity. With a sharp flick of her fingers, the vines constricted with immense force, instantly crushing the demons into clouds of dark smoke.
The moment the horde was wiped out, several much larger demons materialized, charging directly toward her like raging bulls.
She responded instantly by clasping her hands together. The trunks of the surrounding oak trees bent fluidly like liquid, intertwining to form a gigantic wooden hand that slammed down, completely crushing the remaining monsters into dust.
What was the point of summoning a demon horde at the outskirts of my forest? To test my offensive capabilities? she thought, adjusting her collar. Hmmm… that’s the only plausible explanation. If they were trying to use a distraction to infiltrate the school, Eleanor and the headmistress would easily intercept them.
“So this green-haired mage was the one who analyzed Beelzebub’s signature. Impressive. Very impressive indeed… She’ll be a great hindrance if I don’t find a way to eliminate her soon. She’s too smart for her own good,” Asmodeus muttered, keeping her form completely hidden in plain sight.
But right before Flora could liquefy and travel back to the school grounds, she felt a sudden, heavy ripple in the air.
Flora materialized back into her physical form, her eyes snapping toward the empty space.
Asmodeus clicked her tongue in annoyance. I can’t afford to create a scene and fight this mage right now, she thought, before instantly teleporting away into the dark dimensions.
Flora’s brows furrowed as she scanned the silent trees. “Huh… The frequency is completely gone.”
To Be Continued…