Lucy, her shoulders trembling under the weight of her grief, suddenly straightened. With a quick motion, she wiped away her tears, and the fierce determination in her eyes returned. "Eldric," she commanded, her voice steady despite the ache in her chest. "Clean up here and follow me. They can't have gotten far. I'll catch up to them if I push myself to the limit."
Eldric nodded firmly. "Understood, Lady Lucy," he replied, his tone filled with unshakable resolve.
Without another word, Lucy stepped onto the balcony railing. Her long black hair whipped around her face as she summoned the wind beneath her feet. Closing her eyes briefly, she extended her senses outward, reaching for even the faintest trace of her children's mana. Then she felt it—a flicker to the north. Her eyes snapped open, sharp and focused. "There you are," she muttered under her breath before leaping into action.
The wind roared as it carried her forward, propelling her through the rough, uneven terrain of the jungle ahead. Towering trees formed an imposing canopy overhead, casting jagged shadows across the ground. Shafts of sunlight filtered through the dense foliage, giving the jungle an otherworldly golden glow. Vines hung low, tangled and damp, while massive roots jutted from the earth, turning the terrain into a treacherous maze. The air was thick with the scent of wet leaves and soil, heavy and humid, as if the jungle itself was holding its breath.
Lucy moved swiftly, her steps sure and precise despite the challenging path. Yet as she raced forward, memories she had long buried began to surface.
Eighteen Years Earlier
The skies over Verenthia wept with unrelenting rain, drenching the cobblestone streets of the bustling capital city of Zephyros. Despite the gloomy weather, the grand arena pulsed with life. Crowds from all over the kingdom packed its massive stands, their anticipation and excitement unfazed by the downpour.
The arena's marble platform glistened in the rain, its polished surface reflecting flickering torchlight. Commoners filled the lower seats, shouting and cheering, while nobles occupied the shaded upper levels. Among the aristocrats, two figures stood out.
Duke Theron Hale, short and sharp-eyed, exuded an air of cold authority. His black hair was slicked back, emphasizing his piercing gaze. Next to him sat Rhydion Morven, the towering red-haired lord whose booming laughter echoed through the arena.
"Theron," Rhydion chuckled, clapping his friend on the shoulder, "this is going to be the match of a lifetime. I can't wait to see Lucy face off against my son Luceris."
Theron smirked, crossing his arms. "Don't get too excited, Rhydion. Lucy's talented, but she hasn't mastered the third art of the Hale household yet. Without that, Luceris has the upper hand."
Rhydion rubbed his beard thoughtfully. "If that's true, she's in for a challenge. But even considering how far she has come, she would be a significant help for humanity."
Theron raised an eyebrow, his tone shifting slightly. "I've heard you've spent all your time in the ongoing demon war without paying attention to your family. Don't feel guilty for what happened, Rhydion. You have to move on."
Rhydion's expression darkened, his laugh fading. "Theron… we've both lost too much to those monsters. They took your father, and I…" He faltered, his voice dropping. "I don't know if I'll ever make it right. It was my fault he's gone."
Theron's gaze hardened. "Enough, Rhydion. My father made his choice. It was the demons who killed him, not you. Now focus—the match is about to start."
The crowd erupted as a young woman with flowing black hair stepped onto the platform. Lucy Hale, with her commanding presence, drew all eyes in the arena. Her beauty captivated the crowd, enchanting the young men in the stands. Confidence radiated from every step she took, her sword gleaming in her hand.
Across the platform, Luceris Morven strode in with equal confidence. His fiery red hair stood out like a beacon under the stormy skies. The women in the audience screamed his name, their voices rising above the rain.
"Luceris! Luceris!"
He approached with a smug grin. "I'm looking forward to this, Lucy," he said, his voice teasing. "I hope you've improved. Last time we sparred, you weren't much."
Lucy smirked. "It's been years, Luceris. I hope you've gotten better too. This fight means everything to me. Today, I'll earn my freedom—the right to live my life—and annul my engagement with you."
Luceris's smile faltered. "When you say it like that… it hurts, Lucy. I never forced this engagement on you. It was decided for us before we were even born."
The overseer's voice boomed. "Contestants, prepare yourselves!"
At his shout of "Begin!" the duel erupted.
Luceris lunged forward, his blade igniting with flames—the first art of the Morven household. Lucy felt the heat and stepped back, invoking her first wind art. A shimmering barrier of wind surrounded her, dulling the flames' intensity.
"That won't stop me!" Luceris shouted, thrusting his fiery sword forward. The strike met her barrier but lost its power, allowing Lucy to deflect it and counter with an upward slash. Luceris ducked under her blade but felt his movements slow as the barrier affected him.
Realizing the disadvantage, Luceris retreated and drew a whip from his belt. Enchanting it with flames, he lashed it toward Lucy. The whip's speed and reach overwhelmed her, landing a strike on her shoulder and forcing her to stumble back.
Lucy smirked despite the hit. "So, you're finally taking this seriously."
Luceris responded by invoking his second art. Flames erupted from his body, flowing like a fountain. The temperature in the arena rose sharply, and the spectators shielded their faces from the heat.
Lucy, feeling the intense pressure, backed away and invoked her second art. Swinging her sword repeatedly, she sent razor-sharp wind blades hurtling toward Luceris. The blades, powerful enough to cleave through trees, dissolved as the flames consumed them.
"It's over, Lucy," Luceris called out. "You can't counter this. You've never been able to deal with my second art, and I still have my third—Fire Domain—waiting. Just surrender."
Lucy tightened her grip on her sword. "Not yet. I've got a new trick."
The winds around her surged, whipping through the arena with incredible force. Small tornadoes began forming on the stage, dissipating the flames as they gained strength.
In the stands, Rhydion raised an eyebrow, glancing at Theron. "Thought you said she hadn't mastered the third art?"
Theron frowned. "It seems she hid it from me."
Luceris struggled to stabilize his flames, attempting to invoke his Fire Domain, but the winds rendered it impossible. Lucy stepped forward through the dissipating fire. "Your flames aren't strong enough yet, Luceris. This match is mine."
Defeated, Luceris lowered his sword, his expression heavy with sadness. "Was that how badly you wanted this engagement annulled?"
Lucy nodded. "I just wanted freedom—the right to choose my path."
Luceris sighed. "I admit defeat. It's your win."
As he turned to leave, Lucy's knees buckled, and she collapsed unconscious.
Eldric rushed onto the platform, kneeling beside her. "Lady Lucy! Are you alright?"
Luceris glanced back, a faint smile on his face. "Still as proud as ever."
Lucy woke to find her father, Theron, seated at her bedside.
"As per our promise…" she began, but Theron interrupted.
"It's annulled," he said flatly.
Lucy exhaled in relief. "Thank you, Father."
Theron rose, his tone softening. "Now that you've got what you wanted, what will you do next?"
Lucy's voice was firm. "I'll join the war and exterminate the demons. I hate the race responsible for Grandfather's death."
Theron nodded, pausing at the door. His voice was quiet, almost inaudible. "I'm proud of you."
Present Day
Theron Hale sat alone in his chamber, the sunlight streaming through the windows. His tea sat untouched as he stared into the distance, his thoughts heavy.
"Why, Lucy?" he muttered. "You were the strongest of us. Your hatred burned brighter than anyone's. And yet… you chose Sovarath?"
His fist clenched, trembling with anger. "Those demonspawn… I'll make sure they're exterminated. The demons better have finished the job."
Theron closed his eyes, his jaw tightening as he whispered, "I'll get the old you back. I'll undo Sovarath's brainwashing… no matter the cost."