Bloodlust

Your mouth fills with the taste of blood and iron, each breath a fresh reminder of the bruises spreading across your skin. This match is a brutal farce—a trial with one of the kingdom’s strongest warriors, meant to break you.

“What’s wrong, little prince?” Isolde sneers, her voice thick with scorn. “Is that royal blood just for show? Show us there’s more to you than a title!”

You barely deflect her next blow, her blade grazing your cheek, snapping you into sharp focus. This is the weight of your life, the expectations you were born to bear.

You are the Queen’s only child, her reluctant heir. A prince in a kingdom that values strength over all, a son where a daughter was demanded. Your mother never voiced her disappointment, but her merciless training left no question. Endless hours of brutal conditioning, sleepless nights over ancient texts. Your scars are reminders of the bloodline you must uphold. Was it her demand that kept you from breaking… or your own strength?

“Pathetic,” Isolde taunts. “The Queen’s legacy, wasted on a frail boy.”

Her words cut deep, but they ignite something hidden. The mana stirring in your veins—the one advantage your kind holds in a world ruled by brute strength. You’d been trained to ignore it, to master only the blade, to reject the power that others fear. But now it calls to you.

“You don’t deserve your title,” Isolde growls, her sword poised for the killing blow.

But the mana pulses within you, electric and unrestrained, ready to answer her challenge. This duel will end in one of two ways: the fall of a prince, or the rise of a future king.