The throne room had become unrecognizable.

The scent of burning stone, molten steel, and scorched blood clung to the air like a curse. Shattered banners hung in tatters from their gilded mounts. free𝑤ebnovel.com

The grand stained-glass windows had long since exploded inward, littering the floor with razor-bright fragments that caught firelight and magic in flickering glints.

And in the center of it all, beneath the ruined sigil of her house, Malvoria stood with Elysia at her side.

A war-wrought queen and her flame-crowned wife.

Their enemies stood before them: Seraphina, a gleaming pillar of celestial fury, and Zera, eyes burning with resentment and longing. Both were poised to kill.

Malvoria could feel Elysia at her side. Her presence was a tether in the chaos, a weight and a light all at once.

But even now, even as they prepared to face the impossible, Elysia’s hand trembled around the hilt of her flame-forged sword.

The weapon pulsed in her grip like a heartbeat, flames licking at the edges, waiting eager but Elysia held back.

She hasn’t used the red flames yet. The true fire. The one buried inside her blood, her bones.

And Malvoria could see it: the fear.

It glowed in her eyes even brighter than the fire in her hand.

Seraphina attacked first.

A blur of silver and divine energy, her blade cutting through the air like a comet. Malvoria met her mid-strike, sparks flying as obsidian steel clashed with celestial metal.

The force of the blow sent tremors through her arm, but she held her ground, pushing back with a snarl.

Zera came next, darting low toward Elysia.

"No," Malvoria snapped, kicking forward.

Elysia caught Zera’s blade with hers, the flames lashing out on impact—but only for a moment. She stumbled back, eyes wide as the fire flickered and nearly died in her hand.

"You have to let it burn," Malvoria barked, parrying Seraphina’s next strike. "Stop holding back."

Elysia gritted her teeth. "If I lose control—"

"You won’t."

Malvoria’s blade spun, catching Seraphina across the shoulder. The older woman growled, but didn’t fall. She was too seasoned. Too strong.

Zera flanked again.

This time, Malvoria was ready.

She summoned three swords from flame—they appeared mid-air with a burst of pressure, hissing with rage. Two launched toward Zera, the third hovered beside Elysia.

"Use it!" Malvoria shouted.

The blade responded to Elysia instantly, spinning into her free hand. Dual-wielding now, she stepped forward, breath catching as the second sword lit up like a sunrise.

Zera hesitated, briefly startled by the sudden shift in balance.

And that was all Elysia needed.

She struck.

Not with full force. Not yet. But with enough control to push Zera back, red flame slashing through the air in blazing arcs.

She moved like someone unsure, but determined. Her footwork was elegant, disciplined—Seraphina’s training still echoing in her movements—but now it was tempered by something more unpredictable.

Magic.

Fire.

Emotion.

Malvoria caught Seraphina’s blade again, driving it back with a grunt. She flicked her wrist and sent a wave of flame across the floor, forcing Seraphina to leap backward or burn.

They regrouped beside each other, Elysia panting beside her, the fire sword still in hand, though dimmer now.

"See?" Malvoria said through her teeth. "You didn’t burn the castle down."

"Yet," Elysia gasped, wiping sweat from her brow.

Zera lunged.

Elysia turned, met her halfway.

Their swords collided—Zera’s ice-dagger against Elysia’s fireblade—and steam erupted in a burst between them.

Elysia pivoted, spinning the second blade toward Zera’s side. The rebel ducked, but not fast enough—her shoulder caught the edge and hissed where the flames kissed her.

Malvoria didn’t wait.

She charged Seraphina again, their blades a blur of light and magic. Seraphina was fast, stronger than before, her strikes powered by something righteous and bitter. Every blow came with fury. Every block, a statement.

"You were meant to die alone," Seraphina growled. "Not poison her heart."

Malvoria’s eyes narrowed. "She chose me."

"You manipulated her."

"I loved her."

They clashed again.

And behind them—Elysia screamed.

Malvoria turned just in time to see Zera hurling a jagged spear of lightning.

It arced through the air, aiming straight for Elysia’s chest.

Time slowed.

Malvoria pushed off the ground, magic coiling in her palms. She summoned flame, fast and wild. One of her swords flew from the air like a bullet and intercepted the spear mid-flight. The explosion lit the room in a burst of white.

Elysia fell to her knees, the heat washing over her.

She was alive.

But shaken.

Malvoria landed beside her, breath short.

"Get up," she said quickly, helping Elysia to her feet. "Don’t stop moving."

Elysia nodded, her jaw clenched, face pale. "I’m trying."

Malvoria looked at her, really looked—and saw it.

The fear was still there.

But beneath it, something else had taken root.

Determination.

The throne room echoed with another blast—Seraphina had summoned a shockwave that cracked the stone underfoot. Malvoria staggered but didn’t fall. Elysia lifted her swords again.

Together, they pressed forward.

And now they moved as one.

Where Malvoria struck, Elysia followed. Where Elysia faltered, Malvoria covered her. They traded positions, flowing like a storm of red and gold, their combined magic setting the air ablaze.

Zera shouted as a fire blade grazed her thigh.

Seraphina cursed as Malvoria’s sword caught her side.

But it wasn’t perfect.

Malvoria could feel it.

The drain.

Every flame summoned, every sword cast, every ward raised—it took something. Even for her. The fight had lasted too long, and she’d been using too much magic too quickly.

She ducked a strike from Seraphina, her limbs burning now not just with heat—but fatigue.

Another blade summoned.

Another parry.

She was slowing.

And Seraphina saw it.

She struck harder, pushing her advantage, sensing Malvoria’s strain.

Malvoria gritted her teeth, blocking another swing.

But her knees dipped.

Her breath caught.

And just like that—

She stumbled.

Malvoria stumbled—just a breath, just a half-step too slow.

But it was enough.

Seraphina’s blade came down like divine judgment, a clean arc of searing celestial metal.

Malvoria raised her sword, flame licking upward in defense, but her arms felt heavy, her muscles burning with overuse. The strike connected, knocking her back a step, and her foot slid in a smear of blood.

Pain lanced through her ribs.

She didn’t cry out.

She couldn’t afford to.

A grunt escaped her lips as she forced herself upright, flames curling tighter around her wrists. Her vision blurred at the edges, blood pulsing in her ears.

She turned her head just enough to see Elysia breathing hard, face flushed, lips slightly parted. She was glowing with the same fire Malvoria had given her, but she was pushing herself too hard too.

Zera was circling again, dagger ready, eyes locked on Elysia like a starving predator.

And Malvoria—she was open.

She couldn’t block both.

She moved to shield Elysia, lifting her arm for another ward.

But Zera was faster.

Too fast.

Her dagger glinted in the firelight, arcing toward Malvoria’s exposed side.

And then—

"Malvoria!"

A blur of silver.

A flash of red.

Elysia moved.

She was faster.

She shoved Malvoria out of the way and stepped in—just as the blade sank deep into her side.

The sound it made: wet, sickening, ripped through the battlefield louder than any explosion.

Malvoria froze.

The world tilted.

And Elysia—

Elysia gasped, eyes wide, her lips parting in a silent breath of pain. Her flame sword fell from her hand and clattered to the floor, dimming instantly.

Blood soaked the front of her robes, staining the soft reds and whites in a violent burst of crimson.

"No," Malvoria whispered.

But the damage was already done.