The Heirs of House Alessia

LIFE IN THE IMPERIAL CITY grew monotonous for those who’d lived there long.

The festivals, holidays and grand celebrations were wonders to outsiders, no doubt, but they had long become routine to those born within the walls. Over the centuries, the Empire’s venerable leaders became too used to them, and public events became just more boxes to tick off in the bureaucrat’s endless checklists.

The last time anything interesting happened had been the birth of Olivia.. but little did the Imperial citizens know they had one hell of a show in store for the day.

Galardos Alessia had challenged his brother to a duel.

The announcement came out of nowhere, and in a matter of minutes, thousands of people were crowded outside the Imperial Arena fighting to get in.

Normally, the arena was used for sports and military demonstrations. But to have two demigods squaring off in a genuine family spat? By Zarielle, there wasn’t enough bread in the Empire to feed that crowd.

Such was the public turnout. And yet… the private booths of the Great Houses and Imperial Family were mostly empty. Only three demigods attended the event: Princess Olivia, Prince Cyrus, and Arlene.

The glaring absence of the rest of the nobility sent rumors spreading like wildfire. Two of the Great Houses, Prelati and Argenta, were missing entirely. Of the others, not a single family head was present.

And then there were the Empress, Madame Gizelle, the Guardian Dragons… none of them had shown up.

The crowd’s consensus was clear: Galardos Alessia had been forsaken.

In truth, however, it was all by design. Olivia had orchestrated it with care — fewer demigods meant fewer eyes to scrutinize or resist Galardos’ plan. Taking advantage of the chaos in the south, she delayed the duel’s announcement until the last possible moment. And in doing so, she ensured no one else would arrive in time.

Before long, the two fighters entered the arena, each from opposite sides. The crowd cheered in anticipation, yelling Vahram’s name.

All that was left to do was for the event’s organizer, Olivia, to give a speech, and the duel would commence immediately afterward.

Traditionally, speeches were given from the private booth of the Imperial Family. Aware of this, Cyrus and Arlene waited there for Olivia, hoping to have a word with her before the duel began.

So Olivia, in a move most sly and shameful, pulled the rug from under the two.

The princess showed up at the booth of the Alessia family, and without wasting a moment, she initiated her speech from there instead.

“People of the Empire,” she began, her voice ringing clear. “Today, the heirs of House Alessia stand before you, not as enemies, but as brothers bound by duty. This duel is not for vengeance or for spectacle. It is to determine the leadership of the Great House of the North.”

“The stakes are grave, and it’s a bitter sight for two brothers to cross blades against each other. Yet this duel is necessary for House Alessia and the Empire, so that old grievances be settled and the leadership of the North is clear.”

She paused. To her, this was no performance. Galardos had truly given all he had… and the monumental quest ahead of him would demand from the demigod even more.

“So, honor them!” she cried, raising her fist. “Witness them with your hearts! For the glory of the Empire, by my authority as Imperial Princess — let the duel begin!”

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GALARDOS AND VAHRAM stood across from each other, clad in full combat gear.

Demonstration matches often used magic to reshape the arena, emulating a variety of terrains and combat scenarios. But for this match, the grounds were left bare.

Two warriors in an open field. No ambushes, no subterfuge, no trickery.

This fight would be a raw contest of martial and arcane prowess.

At the princess’ signal, the brothers saluted, fists to their chests.

Then, in an instant, they drew their blades… and vanished from sight.

The demigods crossed the arena in a literal blink, teleporting beside one another in a peerless display of spatial mastery. They hadn’t preselected a point of arrival; instead, they reacted mid-cast, reading each other’s mana signatures and adjusting their landing zones on the fly.

It was the highest form of martial exchange, one where both combatants had only a fraction of a heartbeat to strike. No time to analyze technique, or to gauge weapon trajectory.

Whoever had the faster draw would win.

Yet their blades met, and steel screamed against steel.

Streaks of raw energy surged from their weapons, crashing into each other as they struggled for dominance. After a brief deadlock, a blinding shockwave burst between them, and the combatants vanished once more.

Each time they reappeared, it was somewhere new.

Sometimes they clashed in close quarters. Other times, they hurled magic missiles, beams, and explosions.

The fighting was brutal. Stray blasts hammered against the arena’s arcane barrier, their shockwaves echoing through the structure. The sky shrieked. The ground quaked. And for a moment, the people of the Empire bore witness to Armageddon.

It was a spectacle unlike any they had ever seen. Even the soldiers in attendance, legionaries and knights who prided themselves on their fighting prowess, could only gawk in awe. Now, more than ever before, the Imperial citizens understood why demigods were revered as divine entities.

The wrath of the elements, of reality itself, was in full display. The arena shook under the fury of explosions, chains of lightning, blasts of ice, pillars of stone…

And amidst all of it, steel clashed without pause. Their blades met again and again, chipping away at barriers, wits, and raw will. Some strikes were parried. Some dodged. Others hammered directly into arcane wards, ringing out like thunder.

The duel between the brothers was tremendous… and beautiful. A deadly dance between two masters, their every motion honed by centuries of training and live combat.

Slowly but surely, the fight reached its violent crescendo and Galardos broke through. With a decisive slash, he disarmed his brother. Vahram’s crimson blade spun into the air, and his older sibling was one slash away from striking him down.

But then — Vahram Alessia, son of the guardian dragon Shuur Galt… transformed.

The tide of battle flipped in a heartbeat.

With a blinding flash of flame and fury, Vahram’s body twisted, morphed into that of a massive fire dragon. The sheer force of the transformation knocked Galardos’ sword from his hand.

The demigod rushed to draw a dagger, but just as he readied a teleportation spell, his brother struck first:

Vahram cast a Dimensional Lock spell.

Galardos scrambled to counter it, and sparks of arcane energy crackled between them as the brothers locked wills.

Then, a thunderous clang. Galardos’ counterspell shattered, and the space within the arena became anathema to teleportation.

With a beat of his massive wings, Vahram soared into the air. Galardos hastened to follow with a flight spell, but Vahram countered him once more.

Galardos’ endurance was at his limits.

He couldn’t force his spells through anymore, and with that, the battle was decided.

Silence fell upon the arena as the red dragon drew breath up in the sky.

Galardos conjured the strongest barrier he could muster, and then...

Fire.

An endless torrent of it.

The dragon’s breath slammed against Galardos’ defenses. For a few seconds that felt like an eternity, the demigod endured. His ward cracked and buckled, as flames hotter than hellfire pressed in on him from all sides.

Against the onslaught of this inferno, the demigod fell to his knees.

Then the torrent finally relented, and what little remained of the barrier dissolved into a fine mist.

Vahram Alessia was victorious.

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THE CROWD WAS SPEECHLESS. Their hands clutched their seats, as if holding on to them for dear life. They had come looking for a spectacle… but this? This had been far beyond anything they could have imagined.

Demonstration matches and ordinary duels were always met with cheers, shouting, and raucous applause. But this time, not even a whisper passed through the stands.

Breaths were held as the dragon shrank back into his human form and descended to face his brother.

Vahram looked down on the demigod, still kneeling.

Then...

“Galardos,” he said, his voice firm.

“You have lost. As decreed by the terms of our duel, on the authority of Princess Olivia of House Iustan… I hereby exile you from the Empire, never to return.”

The silence that followed was heavy, broken only by the whistling of the wind.

Galardos retrieved his sword with telekinesis, sheathed it, and rose.

The two brothers exchanged one final, solemn look.

Then, the demigod opened a portal to the Irilithan and vanished into its depths.

As of that moment, the former heir of House Alessia belonged to the Empire no more.