ch 17: Prince of Flame (2)
Cedric exited the Third Training Arena, every cell in his body screaming with rage, but he maintained an eerily calm demeanor until he reached his room in the Elite Dormitory.
As soon as he entered and closed the heavy door behind him with a thunderous sound, his mask fell.
"Damn it!"
He punched the marble wall, leaving a charred mark where he struck.
"Calm down... calm down..." he whispered to himself in a trembling voice, placing his hand on his chest where his heart was beating violently. "Emotions... must not get out of control. Not now."
He took deep, successive breaths, exhaling hot air, until the flames trying to escape his pores subsided.
He finally raised his head and looked around.
The room was spacious and luxurious, befitting the heir of the Ignis Dukedom. Rare wood furniture, silk-woven carpets, and original oil paintings. It was more like a small villa than a student room, a privilege granted only to S-Class students.
Cedric walked slowly and sat on a red velvet sofa, relaxing his tired body.
Then he said in a voice carrying a touch of seriousness and coldness:
"Falcon."
There was no sound of footsteps, nor a door opening.
Suddenly, the air rippled before him, and a masked man wearing a gray cloak hiding his features and body appeared, kneeling on one knee before Cedric.
It wasn't teleportation, but movement speed surpassing the perception of the naked eye.
Falcon. Cedric's personal shadow guard, and one of the elite "Ash Squad" belonging to Duke Ignis.
Cedric asked without looking directly at him, "So, why did you send a signal asking me to return to the dorm immediately?"
Falcon replied in a hoarse, quiet voice, "An urgent message arrived from the Duke, Young Master."
Cedric raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Huh? A message from my father? Now?"
Falcon didn't reply but extended his hand from under his cloak and produced a letter sealed with red wax bearing the family crest.
Cedric took the letter, broke the seal, and began to read.
With every line his eyes passed over, his facial features changed. From surprise, to shock, then to disbelief.
His hand trembled slightly.
The letter wasn't just a greeting. It was a war order, and an announcement of a radical shift.
Duke Ignis was informing him that negotiations with First Prince Nero von Arcadia were complete.
That the civil war, which began with the assassination of Marquis Lariska's son, had entered a new phase.
And that the Ignis Dukedom... would switch sides.
The order issued to him was clear and concise: Move within three days after the tournament ends. Head to the border city of "Houston". Take command of its defense ostensibly to support Princess Celine.
Cedric squeezed the letter until it almost burned between his fingers.
Houston. A massive agricultural border city located within the Dukedom's territory. It is the breadbasket of Princess Celine's faction and their lifeline in the coming war of attrition. As long as Houston remains standing, the Princess can continue fighting for years.
And his father is ordering him to go there... to betray her.
The plan was clear as day: Allow the First Prince's forces to breach the defenses at the crucial moment, and hand over the city, dealing a fatal blow to Princess Celine and ending the war quickly.
"Why?" Cedric muttered weakly, his mind spinning in a vortex.
His father wasn't a treacherous man by nature. He sanctified loyalty and military honor. So why now?
What did the First Prince offer to make the "Prince of Flame" bow his head and betray his oath?
Suddenly, a terrifying thought flashed in his mind. His eyes widened in shock.
"Is it... because of the Curse?"
He whispered in a trembling voice, "Impossible..."
Falcon's voice interrupted his train of thought, "Young Master... what should I say to the Duke in response to the letter?"
Cedric raised his head, remembering the guard's presence.
He hid his turmoil quickly and said in a rigid voice, "Tell my father I will move within 3 days as ordered."
Falcon bowed his head. "As you command."
And in a flash, the guard vanished as he appeared, leaving Cedric alone with his ghosts.
Cedric leaned back on the sofa, staring at the decorated ceiling, his mind diving into painful memories of the past.
The dark history of the "von Ignis" family.
In the beginning, the family possessed high affinity with fire, but it wasn't special. It was a strong fire that allowed the First Ancestor to build their glory.
But as generations passed, the blood stagnated. Children began to be born with weaker affinity, and the family threatened to lose its status among the Empire's dukedoms.
Fearing extinction, they resorted to dark science.
Experiments began. Generations of children were subjected to hell while in the cradle. Exposure to fire, burns, magical healing, then repeating the process over and over to break the limits of the human body.
The madness reached its peak with Cedric's great-grandfather. He succeeded, or so they thought.
They created a fire tens of times stronger than the First Ancestor's fire. An unquenchable fire, planted via a brutal magical ritual into the bodies of children upon reaching a certain age.
But nature gives nothing for free.
The "Curse" came.
The new fire was greedy. Feeding on emotions, on mana, and on the owner's life. The more they used it, the more it ate a part of their lifespan and memories.
The title "Princes of Flame" was written in blood and short lives. The current Duke, Cedric's father, was not destined to live past forty.
Cedric's father spent his life searching for a cure, for a way out of this hell, but to no avail.
And Cedric himself... carried the strongest curse.
Since childhood, his flames were unruly. Every emotional outburst threatened to burn him and those around him.
He lived in constant torment, forced to suppress his feelings, and endure pain silently because "this is the fate of Ignis." No one showed him mercy. No one comforted him. Everyone saw in him a weapon to be honed, not a child in pain.
Until that day in the Royal Palace.
He was ten years old. A small incident triggered his anger, and he lost control.
Flames began to escape his body, threatening to explode. Cedric was terrified, expecting punishment or ostracization.
But a small girl with silver hair and blue eyes appeared before him. Princess Celine.
When she saw his condition, she didn't run away, and didn't scream for the guards to arrest him.
She called the court mage eagerly, and said a sentence that etched itself into Cedric's soul forever:
"Please help him! He is in pain..."
She was sad. Sad for him.
For the first time in his life, someone didn't see "power" or "danger," but saw "pain."
He felt a strange warmth in his heart, hotter and gentler than any fire he knew.
That day, the court mage, by her order, placed him in an ice dome and asked him to unleash his flames safely until he fainted from exhaustion.
When he woke up, he learned she was the Second Princess.
From that moment, Cedric swore absolute loyalty to her. He later begged his father to support her in the throne struggle, something he had never done before, until his father agreed.
And now... his father asks him to stab her in the back.
Asking him to betray the only person who saw him as a human.
Cedric opened his eyes, looking at his palms.
"I'm sorry, Father..."
He muttered in a choked voice, as if the sadness of the whole world was pressing on his chest.
"This time, I must betray your trust. I can't... I just... can't betray the one who saved my soul."
He rose from the sofa, his eyes shining with a new determination, sad but solid as steel.
He headed toward the training room attached to the suite.
"Within three days... when the tournament ends... I will go to Houston."
He gripped his sword hilt until his knuckles turned white.
"I will protect what the Princess wants to protect. Even if it means standing against my family... and against you, Father."
Cedric stopped at the threshold of the training room door, his gaze fixed on the paper still in his hand, bearing his father's red seal.
He raised his hand slowly, and instead of tearing the letter, he allowed a small dark flame, different from his usual fiery color, to appear over his thumb.
The fire began to consume the paper, not by burning it, but by erasing it from existence, turning it into nothingness, as if it never was.
Cedric watched his father's words and orders vanish into the void, the flame of the curse reflecting in his eyes.
"Before I leave for Houston... I must finish one thing."
He whispered to himself, the image of Elias Reinhardt floating back to the surface of his thoughts, but this time, his motive wasn't just childish anger or wounded pride.
He tightened his fist until he crushed the remaining ash in his hand.
"If I can't defeat a single student in an arena, how will I be able to stand against an entire Dukedom?"
His gaze changed from burning anger to a deadly coldness, a coldness preceding the storm.
"Elias Reinhardt... you will be the cornerstone upon which I hone my resolve. I will defeat you, and use that victory as fuel for my coming war."
He pushed the door and entered the darkness, leaving the ash scattering behind him on the luxurious floor, as a symbol of the life of obedience he had just decided to burn forever.
