In the heart of the Draymore estate, deep within the towering Flame Hall, the air crackled with intense mana. The chamber was grand, its walls adorned with fiery runes that pulsed with the signature magic of the Draymore family, but tonight, the flames burned hotter than usual. Seated on an imposing throne of blackened stone was the Patriarch of the Draymore family, Magnus Draymore.

Before him, trembling and sweating under the weight of his father’s mana, stood Valen Draymore and his uncle, Alaric.

“You foolish child!” Magnus’s voice thundered through the hall, echoing off the walls. “You dare drag our family into this? How many times have I warned you about your childish antics? I’ve tolerated your arrogance for far too long. But now… you’ve gone and got challenged by an Emberheart!”

Magnus clenched his fists, flames sparking around them. “Do you know what you’ve done? Eden Emberheart is no ordinary opponent. She’s not only a prodigy in fire magic, something we Draymores have mastered for generations, but also in ice magic, a water element magic—a direct counter to your abilities. She protects her family’s honor with ferocity, something I had hoped you would learn. Instead, you disgrace us with your immaturity.”

Valen swallowed hard, trying to find the courage to speak. “Father, i—”

“Silence!” Magnus roared, rising from his throne. “For years, I’ve regretted not disciplining you properly. You’ve coasted on your talent, thinking it would be enough. But Eden Emberheart is beyond you. She’s a rare genius, and you’ve made her your enemy. If you lose this deathmatch, it won’t just be your reputation at stake—it will be the Draymore family’s future!”

Magnus sits on his throne and he casts a disgusted look at his son. “The Emberheart heir is everything you are not! Discipline, power, respect… She has earned all of it! And you? You’ve become nothing but a child playing with fire, letting your arrogance and foolishness cloud your judgment.”

Valen’s face flushed with shame, his heart pounding as his father’s words cut deep. Magnus turned to Alaric, his expression not softening in the slightest.

“You were supposed to keep an eye on him, Alaric,” Magnus said coldly. “Instead, you let him mock the Emberhearts, bringing disgrace upon us. I should have been stricter with you both.”

Alaric, ever composed, stepped forward. “Brother, Valen is still young. Let me train him personally for the upcoming duel. I—"

“Silence!” Magnus roared, his mana flaring up, causing the flames around the room to flicker wildly. “This is my decision. Valen will not be trained by you. He will be trained by our eldest brother, Darius Draymore.”

At the mention of Darius, even Alaric flinched. Darius was a legend within the Draymore family—a ruthless, tyrannical master of advanced and heterodox magic who had trained countless warriors and mages, molding them through sheer brutality. His methods were feared, and few survived his tutelage unscathed.

“Brother,” Alaric began cautiously, “Darius’ methods are… extreme. Let me take responsibility. I’ll train Valen myself, guide him, and—”

Magnus glared at him, his voice leaving no room for argument. “My decision is final. Darius will train Valen. If Valen is to survive this duel, he must become stronger than he’s ever been. He must be ready to face a mage like Eden Emberheart.

Alaric bit back his protest, knowing better than to argue further. He respected his brother, but Darius’s methods were notorious for their severity.

Valen, still trembling, nodded, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll train with Uncle Darius, Father. I won’t disappoint you again.”

Magnus looked at his son, a brief flicker of approval in his eyes. “Good. That’s the spirit of a future patriarch. You will reclaim our family’s honor, or die trying.”

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Valen nodded, and Magnus waved them both away. “Leave now. I have other matters to attend to.”

As they turned to leave the hall, the massive doors swung open, revealing a figure cloaked in shadows. A sinister presence filled the room, sending a chill down Magnus’s spine.

From the shadows emerged the Matriarch of the Ravencroft family, Lady Seraphine Ravencroft. Despite her youthful appearance, she was a tyrannical force, feared and respected across the land. Her beauty was unsettling, her pale skin and raven-black hair giving her an almost otherworldly aura. This kind of beauty was ageless, her pale skin contrasting with her dark, flowing robes. Though she appeared no older than twenty, she was from the same generation as Magnus grandfather. Her eyes, however, betrayed her true age—cold, calculating, and as ancient as the darkness she commanded.

“Magnus, my dear,” Seraphine said, her voice like silk hiding a blade. “It seems you’ve let things slip, haven’t you? The news of your son’s deathmatch is spreading through the capital. Such reckless behavior could jeopardize our plans.”

Magnus clenched his fists, his anger simmering but controlled in her presence. “My son will win this duel, Seraphine. You don’t need to worry about that.”

Seraphine raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow, her lips curling into a mocking smile. “I hope so. If Valen loses, your family’s influence at the academy will plummet, and that would be… inconvenient for our alliance.”

Magnus’ fiery aura flared slightly, but he remained composed. “The plan is still on track. Valen will be trained by Darius, and he will be ready. Now, do you have what I asked for?”

Seraphine’s smile widened, a sinister glint in her eyes. She reached into the folds of her robe and tossed a black bloody bag at Magnus. “Of course, child. Did you think I was incompetent?”

Magnus caught the bag and opened it, a faint smile of satisfaction crossing his face. When he looked up again, Seraphina was gone, her voice lingering in the air like a dark promise. “Remember, if you fail me or become useless, I’ll have no problem turning your family into nourishment.”

Magnus stared at the spot where she had disappeared, his expression hardening. “We’ll see who devours whom, old hag.”

Meanwhile, back at the Emberheart Estate, Eden returned home after a long day at the academy. She was greeted by her mother, Mira Emberheart, who immediately ushered her into the training grounds. Mira’s methods were different from those of the academy. She emphasized control, balance, and precision over raw power.

“Eden, you’ve grown stronger,” Mira said as they began their training. “But don’t forget that power without control is nothing. The match ahead of you will require more than just strength.”

Eden nodded, her mind focused. “I won’t, Mother, pushing herself through the rigorous drills.”

Later that night, Eden snuck out to a secret place deep within the forest behind the estate. Here, she trained with her sister, Eve. Though Eve had lost her ability to follow the mage path, she was still a genius when it came to magical theory, and it was thanks to her that Eden had mastered her dual-element magic.

Eve, the once-great genius of the Emberheart family, had been training Eden in secret since before Joy was born. Eve’s theories on magic—especially dual-element control—had shaped Eden’s abilities. Her mastery of both fire and ice was the result of years of Eve’s meticulous training.

However, unbeknownst to them, their youngest sister Joy had followed them, curious and worried. Concealing her presence as best she could, Joy watched in awe as her sisters trained, her eyes widening when she realized the true extent of Eve’s genius.

For the first time, Joy understood why Eve had been so bitter after losing her ability to become a mage. Eve wasn’t just a prodigy—she had been one of the greatest geniuses of their generation destined for greatness, only to have her dreams ripped away. Sobbing, Joy couldn’t hold back any longer. Tears welled up in Joy’s eyes as she realized how much pain her sister had endured.

“I-I want to help!” Joy cried, running toward her sisters. Please! I’m sorry, Eve! I didn’t understand before, but now I do!”

Her tiny voice broke through the silence, and both Eden and Eve turned, startled. Joy stood there, tears streaming down her face, her small body shaking.

“Joy?...,” Eden whispered, touched by her sister’s sincerity. “Don’t worry. We’re all here to protect each other.”

Eve smiled, wiping away Joy’s tears. “You’re strong, Joy. We’ll train together, and no one will get hurt. We’re sisters, and that’s our greatest strength.”

As they resumed their training, Eden was shocked to witness Joy’s raw power. For a moment, she stood in awe of the magic surging from her youngest sister. Joy, the child of thunder was far more powerful than they had imagined.

The Emberheart sisters, united, were a force the Draymores—and the entire academy—would soon come to fear.