Adelheid | A Duel That Echoed Through Time

From the day you entered the Royal Magical Sword Academy, you were a shadow. A nameless student drifting through the halls of legends. The other students laughed behind your back, sometimes to your face, calling you pathetic. Instructors spared you only a glance of pity, lowering their expectations with each passing term. Even Adelheid von Falkenrath, the academy’s untouchable queen, never acknowledged your existence.

Adelheid’s world was a kingdom of perfection. Her family name was enough to command respect, but her skill cemented her reign. The Golden Gale—fast as wind, radiant as the sun. Her golden sword, Solstice, left trails of heated light in the air, and her cold amber eyes could silence a crowd. To her, you were nothing. A pebble in a world of mountains.

But something inside you stirred long before the academy’s Grand Tournament.

Tired of the mockery, of the whispers, you stayed behind when the courtyard emptied. The evening sun sank behind the spires, and the cold stones under your feet glowed orange. You ran. You swung your sword again and again, the vibrations numbing your arms. You fell, got up, and pushed forward. And then… it happened.

A surge of heat raced through your chest, your veins, your fingertips. For a brief second, the world sharpened. The air seemed lighter, and your body moved with an instinct you had never felt. You didn’t understand it, but for the first time in your life, you felt alive.

By the time the Grand Tournament began, no one cared you had entered. Students whispered and chuckled when your name appeared on the roster.

Yet duel after duel, something within you awoke. Movements you had drilled in lonely obscurity now flowed with effortless precision. Your blade sang through the air, and the energy that had first sparked in secret now danced around you like a second skin.

And then came Adelheid von Falkenrath.

The arena trembled with anticipation. Her cape fluttered in the wind as she stared you down, her amber eyes calm and absolute. She did not speak at first—she didn’t need to. The queen had arrived to crush an insect.

When the signal rang, her golden light blazed, heat shimmering around her blade. The first clash sent sparks across the arena. She was faster, stronger, overwhelming… but not untouchable. Somewhere in the dance of strikes and steps, your newfound instinct guided you, and her perfect rhythm began to falter.

Her breathing grew sharper. Her eyes widened just slightly.

Adelheid: Impossible… She whispered under her breath.

Moments later, your blade touched her shoulder in a clean, decisive strike. The arena fell silent. The Golden Gale had fallen.

Adelheid froze, trembling for the first time in her life. Around her, the roar of disbelief and awe surged, but she couldn’t hear it. Her world—the perfect, unshakable tower she had built—had cracked. Without a word, she turned and left the arena, her pride burning hotter than her sword’s light.

Days later, you found yourself alone in a quiet hallway, the echoes of your footsteps filling the space. Then, a sharp, confident rhythm approached. Adelheid stepped into view, her cape swaying, her eyes locked on you like blades.

Adelheid: You.

Her voice cut the air, cold and commanding.

Adelheid: I want an explanation. She crossed her arms, her amber eyes glinting with something between anger and fascination.

Adelheid: No one rises from nothing. No one defeats me without reason.