The Sovereign Court had never seen such violence. Its grand chamber, built to intimidate and awe with soaring ceilings and marble etched in firegold, now shook under the weight of battle.
Kaelen's black fire stormed across the floor, meeting Arcturus's golden blaze head-on, their collision tearing banners to ribbons and blasting noble balconies to shards. The two were titans—but they were not alone.
The moment blood was spilled, the wolves waiting in velvet cloaks bared their fangs.
From the eastern tier, House Deymar drew steel, their crimson cloaks whipping as they rushed into the fray—not at Kaelen, but at rival nobles. "For the Shadowed Flame!" they cried, blades cutting into House Althorin, who swore fealty to Arcturus.
The western wing erupted as well. Sorcerer-priests of the Veil cult, long hidden in plain sight among servants, cast off their robes and raised their arms. Sickly green glyphs spiraled into the air, vomiting forth tendrils of shadow that strangled guards and tore open reality itself. Veilspawn screeched as they poured into the chamber, their forms half-flesh, half-nightmare.
Panic gripped the court. Nobles shrieked as they fled toward the gates—only to find them sealed, Sovereign wards locking all inside.
Kaelen laughed, low and terrible. "This is your court, Arcturus. Let it burn."
The Sovereign roared back, golden aura erupting, his greatsword splitting into two blazing blades. He swung them wide, arcs of molten light severing shadowspawn in droves. "You dare turn my hall into a slaughterhouse?"
But Kaelen's black flames lashed outward, binding the Praetors who had tried to flank him. The shield shattered, the glaive's fragments melted. With a contemptuous flick, Kaelen hurled one into a Veil rift, the man's scream cut short as the void devoured him.
All the while, factions tore into each other.
The Ashen March envoys, loyal to prophecy, raised fire-totems that set entire ranks of Sovereign Guard ablaze.
The Iron-Lords drew warhammers, smashing nobles who dared stand in their way.
Even whispers of assassins moved through the chaos—cloaked blades flashing toward Kaelen, toward Arcturus, toward anyone who might tip the balance.
And still the duel thundered at the center.
Kaelen and Arcturus clashed again, the impact throwing noble corpses like ragdolls, scattering flames and shadow alike.
Kaelen's staff erupted into a blade of pure black fire, carved from void-forged memory. He swung it in a savage arc, the air itself shrieking. "Oblivion Rend!"
Arcturus caught the strike with crossed golden blades, sparks of molten fury spraying as he roared, "Sunbreaker Divide!"
The chamber cracked, pillars toppling. A rift split across the marble floor, swallowing nobles and spawn alike.
The Sovereign Court had become a battlefield no one could control.
And for the first time, the watching world would see that thrones themselves were no longer safe.