The gates of Arvandor did not simply open.
They were ripped apart.
The iron doors, each thicker than a man's body, bent like clay as an unseen force hurled them inward. Stone shattered. Dust and sparks erupted into the storm-soaked courtyard. And then came the roar.
It was not the sound of man, beast, or even god. It was something older, something that did not belong in the mortal world. The roar shook the marrow of every soldier's bones. Men dropped their spears, women screamed from windows high above, and the torches along the walls guttered out.
From the darkness beyond, it came.
The creature was immense, larger than the palace gates themselves. Its body shimmered in and out of the storm, as though reality itself struggled to contain it. Its hide was blackened bone, veins glowing faintly red like molten rock. Two horns twisted backward from its skull, curving into cruel points. Its eyes were pits of fire, and when it moved, the cobblestones beneath its claws cracked like glass.
Adrian's grip on his sword tightened. He had seen monsters before, during his years in exile beyond the empire's borders—serpents of the desert, wolves with three heads, even the storm-wraiths that fed on lightning itself. But this thing…
This thing was not natural.
Selene's shadows twitched violently at her feet, as if recoiling from the presence. For the first time since Adrian had laid eyes on her tonight, her mask of amusement faltered.
"Impossible," she whispered. "The wards… the wards should have held…"
The beast bellowed again, and the shockwave threw soldiers to the ground. Armor rattled, shields splintered. Some men clutched their ears until blood trickled between their fingers.
Then its gaze shifted.
Two burning eyes locked onto Adrian Stormborn.
The air grew heavier. The storm above stilled, as though waiting. And in that moment, Adrian understood. The creature had not been sent to destroy the city. It had not come for the throne.
It had come for him.
The monster's claws slammed into the courtyard, sending cracks racing across the stone. Soldiers scrambled, some fleeing outright, others raising trembling shields. But none stood between it and the Lightning Prince.
Adrian drew a breath, steady, deliberate. The storm hummed in his veins, eager, furious. Lightning crackled faintly along the blade in his hand, leaping from hilt to tip like serpents of light.
Selene's voice snapped through the chaos. "Stormborn!"
He spared her a glance. Her face was cold, but her eyes… they burned with something sharp, desperate.
"This isn't a fight for pride," she said, shadows already crawling up her arms, coiling around her like armor. "If we don't stand together, the throne will be lost before either of us touches it."
Adrian smirked despite the tension. "So you do need me."
Her lips curved faintly, dangerously. "Don't flatter yourself. I need your power, not you."
The beast roared and lunged.
Adrian surged forward to meet it, lightning exploding from his body in a blinding flash. His blade arced upward, cutting across the beast's forearm. The steel bit deep, sparks and blood spraying, but the wound only made the creature angrier.
Its massive claw slammed down. Adrian rolled aside, the impact shattering stone where he had stood a heartbeat before. He leapt to his feet, thrust his palm forward, and hurled a spear of lightning into the beast's chest. The strike lit up the night, the crack of thunder rolling across the city.
The beast staggered, smoke rising from the scorched wound, but it did not fall. Its molten eyes blazed brighter, and with terrifying speed, it lashed out again.
Adrian barely had time to react before shadows snapped across the courtyard, latching onto the monster's limbs. Dozens of black tendrils whipped around its body, wrapping, binding, dragging. Selene stood at the center, her gown billowing in the unnatural wind, her hair whipping around her face as she commanded the darkness.
"Now!" she shouted.
Adrian launched himself upward, lightning surging around his body. His blade glowed white-hot as he raised it high. With a roar, he plunged it down into the beast's chest.
The impact was apocalyptic.
Lightning tore through the creature, racing across its body in violent arcs. The courtyard split beneath them, cracks spider-webbing outward as energy erupted in every direction. Soldiers were thrown back, windows shattered, the storm above answering Adrian's call with a deafening roar of thunder.
The beast convulsed. It bellowed one final, ear-splitting cry that shook the walls of the palace. And then, slowly, it collapsed. Its massive body hit the ground with the force of an earthquake, sending dust and rubble into the air.
Silence followed.
The storm quieted. The shadows retreated. Adrian ripped his blade free, his chest heaving with exhaustion, his hair plastered to his face with rain and sweat.
The creature twitched once, then lay still.
Selene lowered her arms, her shadows dissipating like smoke. Her gaze lingered on Adrian, unreadable, her lips curving faintly. "You fought well."
Adrian smirked through ragged breaths. "Don't get used to it."
Around them, the surviving soldiers whispered in disbelief. Some stared at Adrian as though he were a god. Others crossed themselves, murmuring prayers. A few looked to Selene, as though waiting for her to claim the victory.
But before anyone could speak further, a voice cut through the smoke.
"Impressive."
It was smooth, cold, deliberate. The kind of voice that did not need to shout to command attention.
Adrian froze. Selene stiffened. The soldiers fell silent, their eyes darting toward the shattered gates.
From the darkness beyond stepped a man.
He wore a cloak of crimson, the fabric torn and weathered, yet regal in its cut. A mask of pale bone concealed the upper half of his face, leaving only a sharp jawline and lips twisted into a faint, cruel smile. His presence was suffocating. The air itself seemed to bend around him, heavy, unnatural.
His gaze swept across the courtyard, lingering on the dead beast before settling on Adrian.
"The prophecy was not wrong about you, Stormborn," he said. His voice was like silk stretched over steel. "But the throne…" He paused, tilting his head toward Selene. "…does not belong to either of you."
Selene's shadows stirred at her feet, restless, uncertain. Her lips parted, her voice low with something Adrian had never heard from her before.
"No…" she whispered.
The man stepped further into the courtyard. Every soldier instinctively drew back, though none dared lift a weapon. His crimson cloak rippled in the storm's wind, and the bone mask glowed faintly in the lightning.
"It belongs," he finished, his smile widening, "to me."
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