BLOOD & SIGILS

Chapter 40

Fight 1: Darius Zephyrion vs. Crown Prince Lucian Eldoria

The tournament grounds trembled as the first match was announced.

"First Match: Darius Zephyrion vs. Crown Prince Lucian Eldoria!"

A hushed silence fell over the academy's grand arena. Then, murmurs erupted.

"The Zephyrion storm prodigy… against the Crown Prince?"

"That's a death wish."

"No one stands against Eldoria's royal fire and wins."

The massive circular battlefield was lined with ancient runes, glowing faintly as they prepared to shift the terrain mid-fight. The sky above was open, allowing the blazing sun to cast its harsh light over the waiting competitors.

At one end, Darius Zephyrion rolled his shoulders, his tall, broad frame clad in the dark blue and silver uniform of a First-Year. His storm-gray eyes gleamed with wild excitement, and his long white coat fluttered behind him as he stepped forward. Twin greatswords hung on his back, sparking faintly with embedded lightning runes.

Across from him, Crown Prince Lucian Eldoria stood with unshakable poise. His pristine white-and-gold uniform, adorned with the Eldoria dragon sigil, barely moved in the breeze. His hair was dark as midnight, his golden eyes cold and unreadable. At his hip rested a single crimson-bladed sword—the weapon of a royal duelist.

Lucian didn't speak. He merely tilted his head slightly, as if already calculating how long this fight would last.

Darius grinned, cracking his knuckles.

"Perfect. The more serious the opponent, the more fun it is."

Professor Selwyn Draeven, the academy's combat instructor, stepped onto the platform. His mechanical arm gleamed under the sun as he raised his hand.

"First-years or not, this is a real battle. No killing. No cowardice. Fight with everything you have." His sharp silver gaze swept between them. "Understood?"

Lucian inclined his head in a barely perceptible nod.

Darius smirked. "Wouldn't dream of holding back."

Professor Draeven swung his arm down. "Begin!"

A Storm vs. A Dragon

Darius moved first.

Lightning crackled around his boots as he exploded forward, twin greatswords swinging free in a blur of steel. Wind and thunder howled in his wake as he lunged straight for Lucian's throat.

Lucian… did not move.

He simply lifted his blade.

A single arc of crimson fire.

Darius barely twisted mid-air, avoiding a blazing slash that seared the air where he had been a split-second ago.

He landed in a crouch, eyes wide.

"Fast."

Lucian lowered his sword slightly, golden eyes unblinking. "You'll need to do better than that."

Darius grinned. "Oh? Then let's see if you can keep up."

He vanished.

A thunderclap erupted as he reappeared above Lucian, swinging his greatswords down like an executioner. The air crackled, the blades charged with raw lightning.

Lucian sighed.

He stepped to the side.

Darius' blades slammed into the ground, shattering the stone. Cracks raced outward, but Lucian was already gone.

Darius' eyes snapped up—

Too late.

Lucian's knee crashed into his ribs, sending him flying.

Darius tumbled, rolling twice before slamming his boot down to stop himself. He coughed, feeling the deep impact in his bones.

Lucian, still calm, flicked his blade to the side.

"Predictable."

Darius wiped blood from his lip, then let out a sharp, wild laugh.

"Hell yeah," he muttered. "You're gonna be fun."

Lightning coursed through his veins.

Then—he vanished again.

The Arena Shifts

As their battle raged, the arena's runes pulsed. The ground cracked, shifting into uneven rocky terrain.

Lucian barely spared the change a glance. No terrain would matter. He was absolute.

Darius? He was grinning wider. More chaos meant more fun.

Lightning crackled in the air, and this time, he didn't attack directly.

Instead—he circled Lucian at blinding speed.

Wind surged around him, his Stormcaller abilities amplifying his momentum.

Lucian exhaled through his nose. "Child's tricks."

He planted his sword into the ground.

The moment the steel touched stone—

Fire erupted outward in a perfect circle.

Darius' eyes widened as a blazing shockwave slammed into him. He was forced back, his uniform smoking, burns lacing his arms.

Lucian straightened, golden eyes still calm.

"Speed alone won't save you."

Darius shook his arms out. The burns stung, but he grinned through the pain.

"Finally," he breathed. "Someone who doesn't crumble right away."

Lucian lowered his blade slightly. "This fight is already over."

Darius smirked.

"Then prove it, your highness."

The Final Clash

Lucian lifted his sword.

For the first time, his golden eyes burned.

Then—he moved.

The air ignited in his wake. A streak of red and gold, faster than the eye could track.

Darius saw it—barely.

"Shit—"

He barely lifted his swords when—

Lucian's blade was at his throat.

The arena fell silent.

Darius, panting, sweat dripping from his brow, didn't move.

Lucian, not even breathing hard, tilted his head.

"Yield."

Darius let out a slow, sharp breath. Then—he laughed.

A wild, breathless, thunderous laugh.

"Shit," he grinned. "Fine. You got me."

Lucian said nothing, merely withdrawing his blade.

Darius rolled his shoulders, stepping back. His body was sore, burned, and aching. But his storm-gray eyes were brighter than ever.

"Next time," he muttered. "I'm not holding back."

Lucian glanced at him. Then, for the briefest moment—

He smiled.

"Good."

Winner: Crown Prince Lucian Eldoria.

The crowd erupted into cheers and murmurs.

The tournament had begun. And already, the gap between the elite and the challengers had been made clear.

Lucian walked off calmly. Darius watched him go, wiping more blood from his mouth.

Next time, he thought.

And this time, he'd make the prince bleed.