Drake entered the hall with an air of calm nonchalance, his steps measured, his expression serene. He looked as though he had nothing to prove, yet his presence filled the chamber like a heavy storm cloud. The murmurs in the crowd quieted instantly.
The Duke rose from his seat, his voice deep and commanding as he declared the duel. He spoke not of rivalry, but of chance—a chance for Noctus to prove his worth to the family and to himself. It was a trial, not just of skill, but of belonging. With that decree, the procession moved to the dueling arena.
The arena floor stretched wide under the open sky, its stone tiles scarred by countless battles. Noctus stood across from Drake, his sword at his side. Neither spoke. Their silence was louder than words, the tension in the air enough to make the spectators shift uncomfortably.
In unison, they unsheathed their weapons. Drake's greatsword gleamed, a monstrous weapon forged to dominate the battlefield. It seemed almost alive, as if it could devour anything that dared oppose it. Noctus, in contrast, gripped his Jian blade, his stance basic, unrefined. Yet his eyes held no fear.
The duel began in a flash. Drake moved first, his greatsword a blur as he aimed for Noctus's neck, intending to end the fight swiftly with the blunt hilt. But Noctus ducked low, his body coiling like a spring, and countered with a diagonal slash from waist to shoulder. Drake twisted away easily, his movements fluid, his composure unshaken.
Drake pressed the advantage, his vertical slash coming down like the weight of a mountain. Noctus tried to recover, but the attack grazed his sword arm, a red line blooming across his skin. Pain flared, yet Noctus did not react. Instead, he surged forward, his blade igniting with fire.
"Tyrant's Rage, first form—Roar of Madness."
The thrust exploded with a burst of aura, the strike so fast it cracked the air. The crowd gasped, but Drake's expression did not falter. He calmly raised his sword, channeling his family's treasured technique.
"Undying Flame, third form—Unmoving Calmness."
The clash rang like thunder. Drake's aura-laden blade deflected the fiery thrust, dispersing its energy with precision rather than force. He immediately followed with an attempt to disarm Noctus, but Noctus twisted away just in time. His dull, emotionless expression betrayed nothing, but inside, Hunter's Judgement burned bright, sharpening his perception. Twenty minutes—he knew exactly how long he had.
Drake frowned slightly. The thrust should have ended things, yet Noctus avoided his follow-up as if guided by unseen threads. That precision wasn't luck. It was a skill. And in a single exchange, Drake understood it. His mind worked swiftly, piecing together the ability's effect. He was a genius, after all.
Their blades collided again and again, sparks flying with each clash. Noctus felt the weight of Drake's strength pressing on him, his wrist burning from the impact. So this was the Knight Realm. A gulf too wide to cross with sheer willpower. He glanced inward—fifteen minutes left on his skill.
Drake shifted his stance, fire swirling around him. "Undying Flame, first form—Fire Severance."
A blazing arc of fire roared toward Noctus, scorching the air. He burst upward with aura-enhanced speed, narrowly avoiding the slash, and landed with a counter.
"Tyrant's Rage, second form—Slash of the Wild."
His blade carved downward, fire aura erupting like a clawed beast. The attack tore across the arena, but Drake barely reacted. With a simple aura-coated swing, he severed the incoming slash, scattering it like smoke.
"Is that all?" he asked, his tone calm, almost disappointed.
Noctus said nothing, his face as blank as stone. He lunged forward, driving the battle into close quarters again. Their blades rang out like war drums, the rhythm unrelenting. But where Drake stood steady and effortless, Noctus's breaths grew heavier. His arms trembled, his body straining. The clock ticked down—three minutes left.
Drake stopped suddenly, lowering his weapon slightly, almost inviting Noctus to attack. The gesture was insulting, dismissive, yet strangely merciful.
Noctus tightened his grip on his sword. He exhaled slowly. Then, for the first time in the duel, he smiled faintly. His eyes softened, his aura sharpened, and he whispered to the blade, "Let's give it our all, partner."
He slid the sword back into its sheath. The crowd stirred. His stance changed—his body lowered, his center of mass stable, his aura honed into a razor's edge.
"Tyrant's Rage, fifth form—Vengeance of the Tyrant."
The next moment, Noctus vanished. His speed was inhuman, a blur too fast for ordinary eyes. Even a Peak Elemental Realm cultivator would struggle to track him. But Drake was no mere Elemental. He watched, calm, poised, waiting.
Noctus reappeared behind him, blade slashing free from the sheath. Yet when the dust settled, it was Noctus who staggered back, blood streaking his shoulder. Drake hadn't even flinched.
"I think this is enough," Drake said coldly. He turned, aura surging. "Undying Flame, first form—Path of the Flame."
His blade erupted in a circular sweep, a wall of fire surging outward like a tidal wave. Noctus was caught at point-blank range, the flames rushing in, unstoppable.
In that split second, instinct roared louder than reason. Noctus's Time Core pulsed.
"Chronos Dissolution."
The world slowed. The fire froze mid-surge, each spark crawling like a drifting ember. Drake's motion lagged as though bound in invisible chains. For half a second, Noctus controlled the flow of time itself.
He dove through the slowed fire, ignoring the searing pain, and struck. His blade slashed across Drake's arm, a single line of red blooming. The moment ended, time resumed, and the fire crashed past him like an angry beast.
Drake steadied himself, staring at the shallow cut on his arm. Silence fell across the arena. Then, in a voice calm but decisive, he said, "I lost."
Gasps erupted from the audience. The outcome was unthinkable. A low Elemental Realm defeating—no, surviving against—a Knight Realm? It was absurd. Even if Drake had been holding back, Noctus's performance defied reason.
As Drake left the arena, he crossed paths with his father. The Duke's gaze lingered on him, unreadable.
"Well," the Duke asked quietly, "what do you think?"
Drake exhaled, his expression thoughtful. "He earned it. But…" He paused, his eyes narrowing. "Father, did you feel it? That strange fluctuation, just after my attack?"
The Duke said nothing. Drake studied him for a moment, then turned away.
Alone, the Duke's eyes shifted back toward the arena, where Noctus was stumbling out, his strength failing. A single whisper escaped his lips, so soft none could hear.
"Time… so it begins."
Noctus collapsed outside the arena, gasping for breath. His body screamed in agony, Hunter's Judgement already expired before the final clash. He had gambled everything on that half-second of Chronos Dissolution, and though it had left him battered, it had worked.
He hadn't defeated Drake. Not truly. But he had drawn blood. And in this world, sometimes a scar was worth more than a victory.
Noctus lay there, sweat dripping, a single thought echoing in his mind. If this wasn't enough, assassins will come for me. And if they do… I'll have to run.