It all didn't matter. The mystery of his perfection, the enigma of his Essence—the power he didn't even know the name of—none of it truly mattered to Leon Winter. The only thing that had ever mattered was his ultimate goal, the vision he had carved into the fabric of his life. He could feel the world itself bending to his will, as it always had. Just a few more years, and everything would fall into place.
The world of Aetheris was vast and untamed, a singular continent of impossible size and scale. There were no other lands, no distant shores. It was as if the gods themselves had created this one massive landmass and then forgotten about it, leaving humanity and the creatures that roamed its wilds to their own devices. The creatures were real—goblins, trolls, and dragons—but they were as much a part of the world as the forests and mountains, existing alongside humanity in a tenuous balance of survival.
Leon ruled over Valtoria, the most powerful kingdom in all of Aetheris. His military was unmatched, his resources vast, and the people... they bent to his will, as all others did. His armies had crushed rivals, subdued rebellions, and toppled nations, leaving his grip on Aetheris nearly unchallenged. There was no one left to oppose him.
No one except for one.
Leon leaned back against his throne, his cold eyes surveying the empty hall before him. He had long since dismissed his court, sent his guards away. He preferred the silence. It gave him time to think, time to plan. Victory was inevitable. Another few years and the world would be reshaped into something better—a place where order reigned, where chaos had no foothold. He would bring stability, peace, and prosperity. It didn't matter how much blood was shed to achieve it. It didn't matter that people called him a monster, a tyrant. He had already come too far.
"Everything bends eventually," he whispered to himself, his voice carrying through the empty chamber like a promise.
Suddenly, a voice, low and familiar, emerged from the darkness.
"Strange to find a king in his throne room with no guards. No protection. Careless, wouldn't you say?"
Leon didn't flinch, didn't even turn his head. He had known this was coming. He had been waiting for it.
"That's because I was expecting you," Leon said with the faintest smile, his tone betraying none of the danger that hung in the air. "Sebastian."
From the shadows, a figure stepped forward, his armor glinting faintly in the low light of the throne room. Sebastian Vettel. Leon's only true friend... and his greatest enemy.
Sebastian had always been the opposite of Leon. Where Leon was cold and calculating, Sebastian was noble, idealistic, driven by a sense of justice that had burned inside him since they were children. The world had seen this, and it had bestowed upon him an Essence fitting of his nature—Clarity. With it, Sebastian could see through any illusion, any deception. No lie could pass unnoticed, no manipulation could hold sway. It was a power as pure as the man himself, and it made him the one person in all of Aetheris who could stand against Leon's dominance.
For that reason alone, Sebastian was the greatest threat Leon had ever faced.
But more than that, Sebastian had been Leon's truest companion, the only person who saw him for who he really was. Where others fell under the influence of Leon's mysterious Essence, manipulated and controlled by his presence, Sebastian remained untouched. He was immune, able to see through whatever unseen force bent others to Leon's will. It was because of this immunity that they had become so close. Sebastian was the only one Leon could be real with, the only person he could confide in, without the mask that his Essence forced him to wear.
Yet now, here they stood, enemies.
"Is this it then?" Leon asked, his voice casual, almost amused. "Even you, Sebastian? The world's hero, the paragon of truth and justice, here to kill me?"
Sebastian's face was hard, but there was a sadness in his eyes, one that Leon recognized all too well.
"You leave me no choice," Sebastian said, his voice filled with that same noble conviction that had always defined him. "You've done enough, Leon. You've caused too much suffering, too much destruction. This reign of terror ends here."
Sebastian's hand moved to the long sword strapped to his back, a blade that gleamed with the light of his Essence. It was a weapon forged for one purpose—to cut through the lies of the world, to bring truth and justice wherever it was needed. As he unsheathed the sword, the air around him seemed to shimmer with power.
Leon chuckled softly, rising from his throne. "You really believe that, don't you? That you can stop me? That after all this time, after everything I've built, it all comes down to this?"
Sebastian's gaze hardened. "Yes. I know I can."
Leon crossed the room slowly, each step deliberate, as if he had all the time in the world. In truth, he did. The world had bent to his will for so long now that the idea of someone—anyone—challenging him was laughable. But Sebastian... he was different. He had always been different.
"So, this is how it ends," Leon mused. "You, my only friend, my truest rival, standing against me."
Sebastian held his sword aloft, pointing it directly at Leon. "This isn't about friendship, Leon. This is about stopping you, before it's too late."
Leon smirked, his hand reaching for the sword that hung on the wall behind his throne. It had been years since he'd last wielded it, but the weight of the weapon in his hand felt familiar, almost comforting. He turned to face Sebastian, his expression as unreadable as ever.
"Too late?" Leon asked, raising an eyebrow. "Sebastian, it's already too late. I've come too far. You think you can stop me now? With what—your ideals? Your sense of justice?" He chuckled, shaking his head. "You always were too noble for your own good."
Sebastian's eyes narrowed. "This ends here. I'm not leaving until you're dead."
Leon stepped forward, the cold steel of his blade gleaming in the dim light. "Funny. I was just thinking the same thing."
The tension in the room thickened, the air between them heavy with unspoken history. Their last duel had been years ago, a clash of ideals as much as a clash of swords. But this time, Leon could feel it—this time, it would be different.
"You know, Sebastian," Leon said, his voice soft but filled with dark amusement, "you were always the one person who could beat me. But not this time. Not today."
Sebastian didn't flinch, his sword steady in his hands. "We'll see about that."
Leon's grip tightened around his sword. The time for words was over.
It was time to settle this, once and for all.
The two of them stood in the grand hall, their swords raised, their eyes locked. And in that moment, there was no kingdom, no world—only the two of them, bound by a rivalry deeper than blood, deeper than fate.
As the first blow fell, the echoes of steel clashing against steel rang through the empty hall, marking the beginning of the end.
For one of them.