Arthur stood at the center of the path, still as a blade yet to be drawn. His golden eyes locked onto Feldine's group with disarming calm—no tension in his stance, no panic in his breathing.
His smile was still there.
A thin curve on his lips.
Not of arrogance.
Not of cruelty.
But of certainty.
Feldine stepped forward first, his cloak fluttering with mana charged by his spellcraft. Arcane circles glowed faintly beneath his feet—his magic dark and refined, saturated with centuries of vampire lineage.
Beside him, Georgina, a close-range brawler, cracked her knuckles as her gauntlets gleamed with stored mana. A pure combat fighter—no tricks, no illusions. Just brutal speed and strength.
Daniel, a mage of considerable prowess, summoned crackling runes into the air, his specialty in ranged elemental manipulation already humming in readiness.
Lyra, silent and cold, disappeared from sight the moment Arthur's gaze passed over her. She was an assassin—fast, lethal, and unpredictable. A perfect ghost in battle.
The last two—Keiran, a wildblade who used twin daggers coated with paralysis venom, and Maya, a beast summoner with a pair of spectral wolves at her side—completed the strike squad.
Six against one.
And yet… Arthur didn't even draw his sword.
Feldine raised a hand. "Go."
They moved.
Fast.
But not fast enough.
⸻
Flash.
Georgina's fist roared forward, aiming for Arthur's ribs.
But he tilted slightly—just enough—and her strike crushed the ground beside him, cracking it like thin ice.
Arthur didn't even look at her.
His palm tapped her gauntlet as she pulled back, and for a moment her body jolted.
"What…?"
She stumbled, off-balance. Her gauntlet shimmered unnaturally before its mana seal crumbled. She couldn't channel through it anymore.
He had broken the flow with a single touch.
A blink later—
Boom!
Daniel's magic struck the space Arthur had just vacated, vaporizing a tree behind him. But Arthur was already moving—sidestepping the cascade of lightning, closing in on Daniel without wasting a single step.
Daniel raised a shield rune—Arthur's hand flashed past it.
Crack!
Daniel's shield shattered, and his knees buckled as Arthur's palm pressed lightly against his chest.
Too light to hurt.
But he couldn't breathe.
He fell back, gasping, magic disrupted entirely.
"Two down," Arthur whispered.
⸻
Keiran came from behind, daggers coated in venom aimed for Arthur's neck.
Arthur turned just enough.
One dagger grazed his sleeve—uselessly.
The other never connected.
Arthur's foot swept low—Keiran flipped through the air, landing hard, unconscious before he hit the dirt.
The wolves lunged, summoned by Maya, but Arthur finally drew his sword—halfway.
A line of golden mana slashed the ground.
The wolves howled once before vanishing into ash.
Maya froze.
She stepped back—
And froze literally.
Her feet were encased in solidified mana—Arthur's residual aura had sealed the ground beneath her before she even cast.
He didn't attack her.
He silenced her.
She couldn't cast anymore.
...…..
Five down.
Only one remained.
Feldine.
The vampire prince stood tall, finally stepping forward as his cloak billowed with raw arcane power. The air grew colder. Dark crimson glyphs hovered around him—sigils of blood, domination, and regeneration.
"You're impressive," Feldine admitted, voice quiet, deadly. "But you are still… beneath me."
Arthur's smile widened.
"I was hoping you'd say that.
Five down.
Only one remained.
Feldine.
The vampire prince stood tall, finally stepping forward as his cloak billowed with raw arcane power. The air grew colder. Dark crimson glyphs hovered around him—sigils of blood, domination, and regeneration.
"You're impressive," Feldine admitted, voice quiet, deadly. "But you are still… beneath me."
Arthur's smile widened.
"I was hoping you'd say that."
⸻
The two clashed.
No warning.
A blast of dark energy erupted from Feldine's palm, laced with decay and death.
Arthur sliced through it.
One cut.
Clean.
The magic dispersed, leaving trails of glowing ash behind.
Feldine raised a hand—chains of blood erupted from the ground, trying to entangle Arthur.
Arthur moved through them like wind through leaves.
His blade met Feldine's hand.
Sparks.
Then—
Feldine was pushed back.
A foot. Two feet. Three.
He narrowed his eyes.
"…You're holding back."
Arthur exhaled calmly, golden eyes locked onto his.
"Yes."
"Why?"
Arthur's smile returned.
"I'm still waiting for Lyra."
The shadows behind him shifted—Lyra appeared, mid-strike, blade aimed at his spine.
Arthur didn't turn.
He simply ducked.
Her dagger passed above his head.
His foot caught her leg.
And she hit the ground hard, paralyzed for a moment by the sheer pressure of his mana.
"Now… six down."
Feldine's eyes glowed.
"Don't mock me."
Arthur tilted his head.
"I'm not."
And then he vanished.
Feldine barely managed to block the next strike—a slash so fast it split the air, grazing his cheek and drawing blood.
Blood? From Feldine?
His regeneration kicked in instantly—but for the first time, he felt the pain.
And Arthur?
He hadn't stopped smiling.
Not once.
......
Meanwhile, at the Central Combat Command Chamber
Laughter rang out, clear and unrestrained.
Rubina, with her long black curls cascading over her shoulders, chuckled deeply, her eyes fixed on the glowing battlefield projection hovering in the center of the chamber.
"Hahaha!" she laughed. Then, with a teasing smile, she turned to the tall man beside her.
"Well, Dante? What do you say now? My son is strong, isn't he?"
Her voice was mocking—playful, but pointed.
Dante, eyes sharp and jaw tight, said nothing. His gaze was locked on the main screen where chaos unfolded. His hands were clenched at his sides.
Nearby, Curtain, an elder with a long silver beard and deep-set eyes, remained quiet at first. But after a long moment, he let out a soft chuckle of his own.
"…I concede," he said. "Your son… is in a league of his own."
He gestured toward the screen. "But don't forget—Feldine is just getting started."
At that, Dante's lips curved into a small smile.
"Yes," he said calmly, "after all… Feldine inherited Arcane Magic."
The room fell silent.
Several officers turned their heads, stunned.
Even Curtain's expression shifted. His brows furrowed in disbelief.
"Arcane Magic…? That's impossible," he muttered. "No one has inherited Arcane Magic in over a thousand years."
Dante nodded. "Until now."
Rubina didn't speak. She only smiled—softly this time. Not mockingly. But with pride… and a touch of fear.
Arcane Magic.
Ancient. Forbidden. Supreme.
Said to be the origin of all magic. A force from the first age, when gods still walked among mortals. It could manipulate laws, break the known limits of mana, and bend reality itself.
Only those destined to stand at the pinnacle of the world could wield it.
And among those few, only one title awaited:
Magic Emperor—
The highest magical authority.
The peak. The legend.
The current Emperor was the Dragon Emperor, head of the renowned Erinoguard Academy, and ruler of the floating city Arcadia.
But now… someone else had inherited that same power.
Not Arthur.
But Feldine.
The screens flickered—mana surging across their surfaces as images sharpened.
On one side, a boy with white hair stood tall, casting massive Arcane sigils into the air, their geometry impossibly complex. Every symbol pulsed with ancient power, and the very ground trembled beneath him.
On the other—his opponent: a boy with black, slightly curled hair, golden eyes that gleamed like a predator's, and a sword that cleaved through spells as if cutting paper.
Arthur Valerian.
He moved like a shadow, weaving through the storm of spells. Every swing of his blade destroyed another high-tier spell, neutralizing centuries-old techniques with calm precision.
There were no wasted movements. No hesitation.
Only purpose.
Rubina leaned forward slightly, her voice low and reverent.
"Anything but a fight between these two… would've been disappointing."
Curtain nodded. "They're monsters. Both of them. Born to change the world."
A few mages near the back whispered among themselves, awestruck. One of them said what everyone was thinking.
"Are we… witnessing history?"
No one answered.
Because deep down—they already knew.
They weren't just watching a battle.
They were witnessing the beginning of something greater.
Two monsters.
Two heirs of legend.
And a fight that would echo through the ages.
Feldine narrowly dodged a sharp lightning strike, the electric energy sizzling just inches from his skin. Without missing a beat, he countered with a powerful burst of his arcane magic, the air crackling as ancient runes glowed fiercely beneath his fingertips.
"Let's get serious," Feldine declared, voice low and full of menace.
Arthur, smirking with a calm arrogance, mocked him effortlessly. "So, you finally decided to show up?"
Feldine ignored the taunt. Instead, he cast a healing spell over his team, soothing their wounds with a faint pulse of crimson energy. "Go destroy their core," he commanded, eyes locked on Arthur. "I'll handle this one."
No one objected—not even Georgina, who knew the reality of their power levels. Despite her ability to defeat a rank 1 intermediate, she was painfully aware that Arthur, Feldine, Julian, and even the boy Nyx operated on entirely different planes of strength.
"Let's advance," Georgina ordered, stepping forward with determined resolve.
As she moved, Feldine unleashed a volley of mana bullets infused with acceleration magic—each projectile streaking through the air with lethal speed. Arthur vanished in a flash, reappearing behind Georgina. With a swift kick aimed at her, he tested her defenses.
This time, Georgina raised her hand, blocking the strike, and retaliated with a sharp punch to his face. Arthur barely flinched before blocking her follow-up attack with his sword, then slamming her backward.
He had prepared his entire body like a fortress, ready for the advancing team.
"It looks like I'll have to get serious," Arthur said coolly as he reached the front lines.
The battle exploded into a deadly storm.
Davis, the beast tamer, commanded his massive beast to charge with a furious roar. But Arthur moved like a lightning strike—fast, precise, unstoppable. With a flash of golden mana sparking along his blade, he unleashed his signature skill: "Thunderstorm Requiem."
Golden bolts of lightning surged from his sword, crackling with raw power as they struck the beast. The creature convulsed violently before collapsing lifeless to the ground.
Kierran and Lyra lunged forward, but Arthur was already ready. He called forth another surge of golden mana, igniting the air with electric energy. "Stormbreaker Slash" — a single slash infused with lightning affinity—cut through their defenses. Kierran's chest was pierced instantly, and Lyra was thrown back, her body limp before she hit the ground.
Daniel attempted to cast a spell, but Arthur closed the distance in a blink. With a brutal, electrified strike from his sword, his "Thunderstorm Requiem" roared again, and Daniel fell, his magic extinguished.
Four warriors had fallen—struck down in a flash of golden lightning and deadly precision.
Only two remained, stunned and breathing heavily, as Arthur's golden mana still danced fiercely around his blade.
Arthur barely spared a glance at the fallen before turning his full attention to Feldine.
The air crackled with tension as Feldine's eyes glowed blood-red, arcane energy swirling ominously around him. He raised his hand, summoning his ancient magic—a dark, swirling vortex of power that pulsed with raw energy.
Arthur's golden mana flared brighter, lightning sparking in response. A cold, confident smile remained on his lips—a smile that refused to fade.