"In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. And the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters. And God said, Let there be light: and there was light."
Genesis 1:1-3
--
Three young boys walked under the full moon.
They were dressed in soldier-like uniforms, long capes draped over their shoulders and hoods concealing most of their faces. Behind them, miles away, stood one of the most prestigious schools for elemental and combat users—Elyndor Academy.
Elyndor was the number one academy on the continent. Many of its teachers were high-ranking elemental users with global reputations. Its alumni served honorably across kingdoms, many becoming military elites. Thousands of awakened users dreamed of setting foot on its campus—but gaining admission was nearly impossible.
Nobles and even royalty sometimes couldn't secure a spot, regardless of influence. All ages could apply, but most students were between ages 12 to 38. Admission required passing three grueling exams: the first determined your elemental or combat rank; the second was a written test; and the third, shrouded in mystery, demanded applicants demonstrate their full capabilities—whether through dueling, advanced technique execution, or something else.
Passing all three was rare. Most only made it in by excelling in the first or third. The highest-scoring applicants, meaning they passed all 3 exams with high marks—typically the top ten—were seen as the dominant forces of their respective year.
And now, three of Elyndor's students were sneaking out.
"I just don't get what you're thinking, challenging him to a duel," muttered the boy on the right.
"I'm still shocked he even accepted," added the one on the left. "He's always been this quiet, distant guy. I thought he'd never agree."
"Brent," the boy on the right said again, lowering his voice. "Have you considered the rumors might be true? They say that he is the Sun Empire's secret weapon? He's a royal, which means he's had the best training since birth. And let's not forget—the Sun Empire has the most high-ranking users in the world."
"He's a shadow user too," said the boy on the left. "You've probably never fought one before, after all most shadow users are weaklings and the ability itself is rare, but I heard that skilled shadow users are incomparably sneaky and deadly."
"And he's ranked sixth in the entire academy—and 1st place in the shadow user department," the right boy continued. "He's practically an S-rank already! Brent, are you even listening to us?"
The center boy stopped and turned on them sharply.
"Will you shut up?" Brent snapped. "It's too late to whine now. This is happening. If what you're saying doesn't help us win, I don't want to hear it."
Silence.
"…Let's go," he said finally.
As they pressed forward, voices echoed through the night—growing louder the closer they came.
"There's so many people," the boy on the left whispered nervously.
"Yeah…" Brent narrowed his eyes. "I don't know how word got out. I told no one—only Prince Xian knew about this duel."
"Then it was him," the boy said. "He probably leaked it. Maybe he wants to use this chance to showcase his power and humiliate you!"
"…Maybe," Brent replied, though he didn't sound convinced. "He didn't give off that vibe when we met. I'd say the rumors about him are true…"
"Which rumors?" the boy asked, sounding slightly worried.
"That he's a man of few words. Real reserved," Brent answered.
"Oh," the boy said, visibly relieved.
They finally reached the edge of the forest. Light spilled through the trees, and the sound of the crowd swelled.
Brent's expression shifted—now focused, sharp.
"Remember," he whispered over his shoulder. "If this turns into a Kings, Queens, and Jacks duel, Deven—you're our Jack."
"Right," Deven–the one on the left said quickly, "I mean—yes!"
"Stendard, you're Queen. You go second."
"Yes," Stendard–the one on the right replied.
"You guys are strong," Brent said firmly. "You're not B-Ranks for nothing."
The three stepped out of the trees—and the cheers hit them like a wave.
The crowd was thick with Elyndor students.
Brent inhaled slowly.
This was no longer a secret duel.
This was a spectacle.
--
"He's here!" someone shouted.
"Oh my gosh!"
"It's Brent!"
"He brought two people with him!"
"Does that mean it's going to be a Kings, Queens, and Jacks duel?!"
The crowd erupted into chaos, voices overlapping, excitement crackling like fire. Students pressed in, forming a wide corridor that split open for Brent and his companions. The three walked with steady confidence, cloaked in calm composure that only seemed to fuel the frenzy around them.
Step by step, they entered the battleground—a wide, white circle etched, glowing faintly under the moonlight.
"All we need now is His Royal Highness to arrive!" someone cried, sending another wave of whispers and gasps through the spectators.
Brent and his two friends took their place at the circle's center. Stendard leaned in close, his voice pitched just for Brent and Deven."Is His Royal Highness not coming?"
"I don't know," Brent said, tilting his head toward the cloudy night sky.
"What time is it?"
"We're 14 minutes early" Deven answered, checking the small clock dangling from his necklace.
"So we're early." Brent gave a faint, almost amused smile.
Deven, however, was anything but calm. Brent didn't need to look—he could feel the tremor in his friend's hands."How are you so calm?" Deven whispered.
"Relax. There's only a fifty percent chance you'll even fight. I'm guaranteed to," Brent replied, his tone light, almost teasing.
"I've got a reputation to uphold," Deven muttered.
Brent cut him off flatly. "You're not even in the top ten of our grade. You don't even rank in the academy's top hundred."
"You know what I mean," Deven shot back, frustrated. "I'm still top fifty within our grade. I worked hard for that. If I lose badly, people will say I'm all talk."
"Don't worry—Brent's got it worse than you," Stendard interjected, his voice steady but edged with tension. "He skipped a whole year. He's number one in the combat department, ninth in our entire year. And he challenged one of the academy's aces. If the prince crushes him, the upperclassmen will laugh him out of existence."
Brent's head snapped toward him, eyes sharp as blades. His voice came out low and dangerous. "Watch it."
"I'm just stating facts." Stendard lifted his hands in surrender. "You challenged a royal. Not just any royal—the second prince of the Sun Empire!"
"I get it. Now lower your voice," Brent muttered, glancing back at his classmates with a warning look.
"I'm just saying," Stendard pressed on, his tone dropping but his words urgent. "Do you really think the emperor hasn't surrounded him with legendary warriors since childhood? If he crushes you quickly, they'll call you arrogant. But if you make him struggle—even if you lose—you'll earn respect. Winning might be impossible, but at least treat this as a chance to learn."
Brent said nothing. Instead, he pulled back his hood, his dark hair catching the faint moonlight as he leveled Stendard with a cold, unflinching glare.
Stendard raised his brows, forcing a quick smile."Hey, I want you to win," he said quickly. "I'm just saying—don't lose too fast."
Brent sighed.
As much as he hated to admit it, Stendard was right. If he lost easily, the ridicule would be relentless. But if he held his own against someone like Xian Zhang, people would start taking him seriously. And if—by some miracle—he won?
That would change everything.
He drew in a slow breath. What was he thinking?
--
In his grade, he was the top combat user. Rank A. Only seventeen. People called him a prodigy. At Elyndor Academy, it was far harder to rank high as a combat user than as an elemental user. Combat users had no powers. No fire, ice, or lightning. Nothing magical. Just skill.
Combat users trained until their bodies surpassed human limits—faster, stronger, sharper. Weapons and flesh became their abilities. Eventually, they stopped being "normal humans." That was why they were called combat users.
As far as Brent knew, no combat user had ever reached Master Rank. Not once in recorded history. He wanted to be the first.
So he trained relentlessly. Progress came quickly—so quickly the academy skipped him ahead a year. Just over a month ago, he'd beaten Ruewen, the third-year's top combat student, and taken his place.
He had always wanted to test himself against the upperclassmen. To see how he measured up.
Every year, Elyndor Academy hosted a final examination: formal duels between students of the same year. Grading was based on skill, but to the students it was something more—a chance to prove who was best.
That was when Brent first saw him.
His Royal Highness, Xian Zhang. The second prince of the Sun Empire.
Rumors about shadow users had always been conflicting. Some said they were weak, reliant on illusions and tricks. They liked to intimidate with horrors pulled from the dark, but once you saw through the fear, they were no stronger than regular civilians. Brent remembered a first-year shadow user who had conjured terrifying monsters. His first opponent had surrendered in fright. The second hadn't flinched—and crushed him.
So when Brent learned that Prince Xian was a shadow user, he assumed the same. A pampered weakling prince, all looks and status, with girls swooning over him. Nothing more.
Then came the exams.
He had stayed after his match to watch the upper years duel, hoping to learn something. That was when Xian Zhang stepped onto the battlefield.
And from the moment he moved, Brent couldn't look away.
The shadows weren't for show. They moved like extensions of his body—attacking, defending, teleporting, wrapping his opponent in inescapable binds. Every strike precise. Every dodge flawless. His presence pressed down like a weight on the chest.
The audience had fallen silent, spellbound.
That was the moment Brent knew. He wanted to fight him.
But Xian was two years ahead. Royals didn't accept duel requests, especially not from younger students. The only chance was through the headmaster, and even that was impossible. Brent let the thought go.
Until one night.
He had been training late in the combat arena—past curfew, but the guards either hadn't noticed or hadn't cared. That was when he saw him.
Prince Xian was leaving the upperclassman training field, his uniform damp with sweat, a wooden sword at his hip. His black hair clung to his pale skin.
He didn't look pampered. He looked like someone who trained hard.
Before Brent could think better of it, he ran up to him."I greet the sun of the Sun Empire, Your Royal Highness," he said, bowing low.
Xian blinked, as if pulled out of some private thought.
"I have a request." Brent bowed again. "Please duel me."
There was a pause.
Then Xian nodded.
Brent's heart nearly exploded.
"Thank you, Your Highness. Where and when?"
"…You can choose."
"Let's keep it a secret. The hidden forest battleground, next week at three in the morning. Do you know the place?"
He nodded again. "I'll see you then."
And just like that, he walked away.
Only later did Brent realize how reckless he had been—demanding a duel from a royal, speaking so casually. Yet Xian hadn't seemed offended.
Maybe he wasn't like the other nobles, swollen with pride and ego.
Maybe he was just like Brent.
Whether he won or lost, Brent would fight him with everything he had.
--
Dark.
Light.
The torches flickered.
Brent snapped back to reality, his eyes scanning the arena. The flames danced violently, bending and shuddering as though caught in an invisible storm—yet the air was still.
Unease spread through the crowd like mist. Voices fell into hushed murmurs.
Then—laughter.
It came sharp and sudden, breaking the silence. A few chuckles first, then open laughter rolling across the battleground. Heads turned. Faces scowled.
Two figures stood near the edge of the crowd. The atmosphere shifted instantly.
Gasps rippled through the students. Excited whispers followed, swelling into cheers.
Kalcabran and Ethos.
Kalcabran stood with his arms crossed, shoulders shaking with unrestrained laughter. His wavy white hair gleamed under the moonlight, green eyes wicked with mischief. Ethos stood beside him, dark blue hair falling over pale skin, his cold black eyes sharp even as he failed to contain his smirk.
They were legends among students. Kalcabran—ice user of the Phoenix Kingdom—ranked 8th in the academy. Ethos—water user of Waterland—ranked 7th.
Brent narrowed his eyes.
"Apologies," Kalcabran called out, his voice rich with amusement. "We didn't mean to kill the mood. We were only laughing because… this is usually how His Royal Highness, Prince Xian, makes his entrance."
Brent blinked. Is he talking about the torches flickering?
Suddenly, all the torches went out.
A hiss of shadow rolled across the battleground like smoke. The air grew heavier, charged with something unnatural. The crowd waited, breathless.
Light flared back to life.
And with it—shadows rose. They gathered in front of Brent, twisting upward, stretching unnaturally tall. From that darkness, a human figure began to emerge.
The shadows peeled away slowly, deliberately, like a predator revealing itself.
A tall young man stood where there had been only mist and darkness. His skin was pale as moonlight, his black hair cut into a sharp mullet. Long lashes framed eyes the color of storm clouds—eyes that didn't look at you, but through you. His black military uniform of the Sun Empire clung perfectly to his frame, polished silver insignias catching the torchlight.
He looked less like a student and more like a soldier of the night, sculpted from shadow and silence.
Prince Xian Zhang.
The youngest son of the Emperor. Younger brother of Crown Prince Kai. The one whispered to be the Sun Empire's secret weapon.
The crowd exploded.
"His Royal Highness!"
"Prince Xian!"
"He's here!"
Screams. Shouts. Girls shrieked with excitement.
"Oh my god, he's so good looking!"
"He looks like the King of Darkness!"
"XIAN! XIAN! XIAN!"
His aura pressed down on them like a suffocating weight.
Brent slowly shrugged off his cloak, handing it to Deven without once breaking eye contact with the prince.
"Back off, guys," he muttered, his voice low, almost grave.
"Good luck, Brent," Stendard said quickly, retreating with visible unease.
"You got this! We'll be rooting for you!" Deven added, clapping him on the back with forced bravado, though his trembling hands betrayed him.
Brent grinned, voice low and dangerous. "That was quite the entrance."
The crowd cheered again.
Prince Xian met his words with silence, his expression unreadable—stoic, calculating. The shadows seemed to coil tighter around him. His eyes flicked past Brent, sharp and assessing.
"Looks like you were preparing for a Kings, Queens, and Jacks duel," he observed flatly.
Kings, Queens, and Jacks was a strategic trio duel. The weakest—Jacks—fought first. Queens followed. Kings went last. Each victory scored one point, except for the King, who earned two.
Brent nodded. "We didn't specify what kind of duel it would be, so I brought backup. Just in case."
Prince Xian opened his mouth to respond—
"Your Highness!" someone shouted from the crowd. "Why'd you even agree to fight him?"
The crowd fell still again.
"He's not even in the top 100 in the school!"
"Yeah, what's so special about him?"
"He's a third-year student who skipped a grade," Stendard's voice rang out, clear and sharp. "And he's an A-Rank combat user—number one in the third-year combat division."
Murmurs spread. Some looked impressed. Others, skeptical.
"Even so, compared to His Highness, he's nothing."
"Yeah, if we're comparing achievements, there's no contest."
"It'd be way more interesting to see you fight Kalcabran or Ethos!"
"They're in your league!"
The crowd nodded and murmured in agreement, all eyes now fixed on Prince Xian.
But Xian didn't even glance their way. His eyes remained on Brent.
"I don't have time for a Kings, Queens, and Jacks duel," he said coolly. "One-on-one only."
"…Did he just ignore everyone?" someone whispered.
"That's so him."
"Classic Prince Xian."
"He's so blunt."
"That's part of his charm."
Laughter and giggles rippled through the crowd.
"One-on-one it is, then," Brent said, ignoring his classmates.
Behind him, Deven exhaled with relief.
Prince Xian gave a single, quiet nod. "Everyone, clear the space."
He started forward—then stopped, eyes narrowing slightly.
"Did you tell everyone we were going to duel?" he asked, voice low and even. Not angry. Just cold.
"No. I thought you did," Brent replied, frowning as he glanced around at the crowd.
"That was me!"
Every head turned. Kalcabran stood there with his arms crossed, a smirk pulling at his lips. Beside him, Ethos struggled not to laugh.
"Don't get me wrong," Kalcabran said easily. "I just mentioned it to someone, and he spread the word. I didn't expect this many people to show up."
Prince Xian's eyes flicked toward him briefly—no emotion, no reaction. Just a glance. Before he looked away. "I see."
The crowd hurriedly pulled back.
"Oh, it's starting!"
"I can't wait!"
"Watching Prince Xian fight is always insane!"
The energy surged.
"I'll give the countdown!" Kalcabran called out.
CRACK—
The ground trembled. A wall of jagged ice erupted, four feet high, forming a ring around the arena.
The crowd gasped and stumbled back.
Ice thorns gleamed along the barricade.
"I suggest everyone keep their distance," Kalcabran said smoothly, his arm was extended as a cold puff escaped his palm. "The barricade is sharp… and freezing."
He turned back to the center.
"Your Highness. Kid. Are you ready?"
"I was born ready," Brent smirked.
"OHHHHHH!" the crowd reacted.
"Okay, okay! This guy is bringing the fire!" Kalcabran laughed, eyes glowing mischievously.
"For those who don't know—this little star rookie, Brent is known as the Prodigy. Only seventeen and already Rank A! I heard he jumped two ranks in just four months!"
"WHAT?!"
"No way!"
"That's insane!"
"I thought he was famous just for skipping a grade!"
"He started at C rank?!"
The crowd erupted in disbelief.
Brent smirked. Correction: three months and two weeks.
"EVERYONE—MAKE SOME NOISE FOR THE COMBAT PRODIGY!" Kalcabran shouted.
The arena thundered with cheers. Brent's chest tightened—not with fear, but with heat. His blood surged. His heart pounded like a war drum.
"And now—" Kalcabran's voice rose again, commanding the air.
"The shadow no one sees until it's too late. Master of deception, infiltration, destruction. Son of the Emperor. Younger brother to the legendary Crown Prince, Kai Zhang!"
The crowd erupted.
"He only awakened three years ago—and now he's the number one Shadow User in the academy!"
"They call him Shadowflage—the walking phantom!"
"The hidden dagger of the Sun Empire!"
"Give it up for PRINCE XIAN ZHANG!"
The cheers were deafening. Girls shrieked. Boys hollered. The ground itself seemed to vibrate with their voices.
"ENOUGH."
The single word cut like a blade.
Silence.
Prince Xian's glare swept across the students, cold and sharp. "At this rate, the entire academy will hear us." His tone was low, measured, but lethal in its calm.
"…Let's begin."
The weight of his words pressed down harder than any aura.
"R-right," Kalcabran stammered, regaining composure.
"ON THE COUNT OF THREE!" his voice boomed again.
"NO ILLEGAL MOVES. NO KILLING. ANY VIOLATION ENDS THE MATCH IMMEDIATELY!"
The arena seemed to shrink, all focus narrowing on the two figures in the circle.
"One…"
The crowd leaned forward, breath caught.
"Two…"
Brent's fists clenched. Xian didn't move. His shadow twitched at his feet.
"THREE!!"
The duel ignited.