A portal snapped open in Arthur’s room, and Alice stepped through, with Arthur following close on her heels.
Alice glanced back at him with a soft chuckle. “Get some rest, Arthur. We got a bit carried away earlier. It’s easy to lose track of time when the world is frozen.”
“Yeah, that was a lot of lessons,” Arthur replied, letting out a breath as he collapsed onto the mattress. “I'll let everything sink in for tonight.”
Alice gestured sharply at his brown-and-black striped pajamas, which were completely drenched in sweat. “Don’t lie down on your bed in those filthy clothes.”
Arthur bolted upright. “Right, sorry.” He rubbed the back of his neck, casting a wry glance at her equally disheveled appearance. “You look pretty messy yourself, Aunt Alice.”
Alice let out a small snort. “I know. I’ll take a bath before I sleep,” she said, casually fastening the top button of her blouse.
Arthur walked over to her, his brow furrowing slightly. “So, how exactly does this formal duel work?”
“Well, formal duels are essentially regular matches, but with dozens of nobles and royals watching,” Alice replied. “To be legally recognized, a formal duel requires two kings to act as witnesses, and the challenge itself must be issued by royalty. If both parties happen to be royal, then either one can initiate it. Typically, these duels are fought in an attempt to break off an arranged engagement, or to win a princess's hand.”
“I see,” he muttered.
Alice pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose with an index finger. “If that’s all, I suggest you take a bath and change into a fresh pair of pajamas before heading to bed. You’ll need every bit of rest for tomorrow.”
She turned and opened the door, but before she could step out, Arthur called after her.
“Aunt Alice?”
She paused, looking back. “Hm?”
“Thank you for personally teaching me tonight. And for the training.”
A soft, genuine smile graced her lips. “Of course, Arthur.”
Arthur didn't say anything right away, simply staring at her in silence.
“What is it?” she asked, tilting her head.
Arthur let out a low chuckle. “Nothing… It’s just… smiling suits you.”
Alice laughed softly, a touch of amusement dancing in her eyes. “You make me feel young, Arthur.”
“You aren’t?” he asked with a straight face.
Alice smiled, stepping back into the room. She closed the distance between them until they were standing mere inches apart, looking right up at him. Reaching out, she playfully tapped him on the tip of his nose.
“You clearly inherited your father’s silver tongue,” she murmured, her smile turning fond. “But you’re already much better at it than he ever was.”
She stepped even closer, rising onto her toes despite her high heels to press a gentle kiss against his forehead. “Don’t stay up too late. Good night, Arthur.”
Arthur nodded softly. “Yeah. Good night, Aunt Alice.”
An hour later, Arthur emerged from the bathroom with a fresh set of clothes. Wiping his damp hair with a yellow towel, he tossed the cloth onto a nearby wooden chair and collapsed face-first onto the mattress. He buried his face in the pillows for a long moment before rolling over to stare at the ceiling.
I can’t use my golden phoenix flames in the duel tomorrow, he thought.
I don’t want to cause more problems for Aunt Alice and force her to wipe everyone’s memories. It would completely defeat the purpose of the formal duel if the witnesses have no memory of it… Luckily, she has taught me dozens of new spells that I can use without relying on it.
As his eyes closed, his whole world plunged into complete darkness…
“Arthur…” A soft, childlike voice called out through the void.
Who…? he thought, drifting in the blackness.
“Arthur… please…” The voice cried out again.
It sounds like… a little girl? he wondered, a cold knot tightening in his chest.
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“Arthur… please… help us…” the voice begged, fading into a whisper.
Help? How? he asked himself.
When he finally forced his eyes open, the darkness vanished, replaced by the suffocating heat of a burning house. He was greeted by a horrific sight—several small, mangled corpses littered the floor in front of him, and standing over them was a towering, muscle-bound demon.
“What…?” His eyes widened in absolute disbelief.
His gaze darted to the small bodies, recognizing them one by one. “No… no…” He shook his head, his voice cracking. “Florence… Theo… Evie… Lucas… Finley…”
The demon turned, staring directly down at him with a deep, guttural snarl.
Arthur gritted his teeth, pouring every ounce of his will into his muscles. “No!” he shouted, but his body refused to move. He was completely paralyzed.
As the demon lunges at him, his vision suddenly turned black once more.
He woke up with a sharp gasp, his heart hammering against his ribs and his cheeks stained with dried tears.
Letting out a bitter scoff, he slowly sat up and stared blankly at the foot of his bed.
A familiar feminine voice abruptly shattered his trance.
“Arthur, the carriage that will take you to the arena is here. Go get dressed.”
Arthur shook his head, snapping out of his thoughts before throwing his legs over the side of the bed. He darted toward his wardrobe, throwing the wooden doors open in a rush.
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A few moments later, Arthur came bursting out of the academy building, hastily fastening the gold buttons of his tailored uniform. He wore a royal blue military tunic cut sharp at the waist with a commanding high collar, paired with slim, form-fitting white breeches and tall, polished brown leather riding boots that reached up to his knees.
The moment he arrived at the academy gates, his footsteps ground to a sudden halt.
Standing before him was Alice. Her silver hair was styled into an elegant formal updo, with loose tendrils perfectly framing her striking blue eyes. She wore a breathtaking white-and-black gothic Victorian ballgown, complete with intricate black floral lace gloves and shimmering silver high heels.
“Aunt Alice?” Arthur blurted out, staring at her in absolute disbelief.
“Don’t stare too much, Arthur. Let’s go,” she murmured, a knowing smile playing on her lips as she turned gracefully toward the waiting carriage.
Moments later, the two of them were sitting inside the carriage, facing each other as the wheels began to roll.
Arthur shook his head with a low chuckle, casting his gaze down for a brief second before looking back up at her.
“Wow… I honestly don’t even know what to say,” Arthur admitted.
“What we are attending is technically a formal royal event,” Alice replied, smoothing out the dark lace of her gown. “Furthermore, as the headmistress of the Phoenix Academy, I am the face of our institution. As its representative, it is my absolute duty to look formal.”
Arthur let out a quiet snort, turning his head to look out the carriage window to hide his amusement.
“Hey, I wasn’t making a joke,” Alice murmured, pouting slightly as she glared at him.
Meanwhile, the grand arena of Sideropyr stood proud and tall, a massive circular dome bustling with curious nobles and royals occupying every available seat. The structure was constructed from fortified, stone-grey luxurious bricks that shimmered in the morning light, heavily reinforced with protection magic by the kingdom’s own high-ranking mages.
King Blackwood and King Sinclair, alongside their queens, sat side-by-side in the central royal stand. Behind them, on an elevated platform, Elaine sat tensely next to her grandmother, the former queen of Eirene.
A few moments later, a deep, magically amplified voice boomed throughout the entire stadium.
“Welcome, nobles and royals! We are gathered here today to witness yet another formal duel of Prince James Blackwood III!” the announcer roared.
“Over the past several years, our prince has successfully defended Princess Elaine Sinclair’s hand from countless rivals across other realms!” he continued, his voice dripping with pride.
“Five formal duels, resulting in five unmatched, flawless victories!”
The entire crowd erupted into a deafening cheer, enthusiastically chanting James's name like a prayer.
Hearing the roaring stadium, Elaine looked down, her expression turning grim.
Underneath the roaring crowd lay the private quarters where James was preparing for the upcoming match. He was dressed similarly to Arthur, though his tailored tunic was a stark, crimson red.
He sat on a simple wooden bench with his eyes closed, his breathing heavy as his mind drifted back into the shadows of his past.
“Father! Father! Look at what I made!” an excited, childlike voice echoed in his memories.
“What are you doing, James? What is that?” a familiar, terrifyingly deep voice demanded.
“I made a paper flower for you!” the boy cheered proudly.
“This rubbish…?”
A split-second later, a harsh whoosh of wind cut through the memory, followed by the violent, jagged sound of paper tearing into pieces.
“Look at me, James. You don’t have time for this utter nonsense!” the deep voice roared, rattling the boy's core. “Go out there with your uncle and train. Train hard! Because at this rate, you will NEVER become king! You cannot rule Sideropyr by making useless rubbish!”
Quiet, fragile sniffles broke through the silence. “I just wanted to surprise you, Father…”
“You aren’t surprising anyone, James! When will your puny little mind understand that the only way to inherit my throne is to become strong?!”
“But I don’t want to inherit the throne!” the child shot back, a rare burst of defiance.
A sharp, deafening slap cracked through the air. It was instantly followed by a dull, heavy thud as a small body collided violently with the floorboards.
“You are an utter disappointment, James. You truly are my greatest shame… Do as you are told, or I will disown you right now.”
James slowly opened his eyes, staring down at his right hand before squeezing it into a tight, trembling fist.
“Just you wait, Father,” he whispered to the empty room, his voice dropping to a dangerous register. “I will make you proud today. I will show you that I am worthy of your throne.”
Reaching inside his crimson tunic, he pulled out the two remaining glass vials. His sharp green eyes locked onto the dark, murky liquid sloshing inside. There was no hesitation left in his gaze—only a fierce, desperate conviction. He was ready to see this through to the absolute end, no matter what it cost him.
To Be Continued…