Magnus Belzore

At the heart of the Astranova Empire, the prestigious Summit of Youth training was in full swing. A hundred seats—reserved for a hundred chosen youths. Each of them bore noble blood, unmatched talent, and ceremonial garments that radiated pride and heritage. Their faces were sharp, eyes blazing with intensity. These weren't mere students anymore. They had come to dominate, to crush every trial laid before them—determined to uphold the Astranova Empire's reputation at the upcoming Summit of Youth.

Most were accomplished mages, yet many wielded physical prowess fused with spellcraft—masters of both blade and arcana. They were the empire's rising stars, trained by the greatest war veterans, battle-hardened knights, and legendary sorcerers of Astranova.

"Hey, Magnar... aren't you joining the training?" Lumina asked as they walked toward the prince's resting castle, her gaze drifting to the field of warriors in the distance. "They all seem to be preparing for the Summit of Youth in Ardenta."

Magnar raised an eyebrow and offered a relaxed smile. "I don't mean to brag, Lumina, but as you can see… I already serve as a War Commander. That puts me among the top thirty in Astranova. Besides, I already competed in the Summit two years ago—when I was just sixteen."

"What?!" Lumina's eyes widened. "But isn't the minimum age supposed to be eighteen? How did you—?"

"It's all about talent and skill, Lumina. Here in Astranova, greatness doesn't wait for permission. My eldest brother competed at fifteen… and he won first place. I'm sure you've heard of him."

"Draeven Tarrion… of course. A living legend," Lumina nodded. "So young... and yet so brilliant."

"Exactly," Magnar said. "He's twenty-five now, ranked fifth in the empire. The Crown Prince. Soon, he may be one of the top three—and when that happens, the throne awaits."

"He's truly remarkable... his presence alone is overwhelming," Lumina whispered.

"And not just him. My second brother, Migora Tarrion, also won the Summit five years ago at sixteen. Then there's Isolde and Zyphora—my sister and younger sibling. They placed third and seventh in last year's tournament in Zarthas."

"Yeah… I've heard of them," Rene chimed in. "The children of Emperor Garron Tarrion are absolute monsters."

Their enchanted airship finally arrived at the imperial castle. Towering spires pierced the clouds, sunlight danced through stained glass windows, and from the balcony, the vast expanse of Astranova stretched out in breathtaking majesty.

But amid all the wonder and conversation, one heart simmered in silence.

Felix.

He kept glancing at Lumina and Magnar—too close for comfort. But it wasn't just jealousy twisting his thoughts. He hadn't come to Astranova for fanfare or royal pride.

He had one purpose.

"I want to meet Magnus Belzore," Felix said suddenly—his voice cutting through the air like a blade.

Magnar froze. The very air seemed to still.

In this castle, that name was not spoken lightly. Magnus Belzore—Prime Minister of Astranova. A man many believed to be the true might behind the empire, who chose to serve under the Emperor out of loyalty, not weakness. A living legend.

"Lumina…" Magnar hissed, his voice sharp. "Who is he?! How dare he speak so carelessly? Isn't he of noble blood? Where's his respect?"

"I don't care who rules here," Felix replied coolly. "I have a promise to keep. And the only way forward… is to meet Magnus Belzore."

"Insolent wretch!" Magnar roared, launching forward.

His strike—empowered with gravity magic—slammed into Felix with devastating force.

"Begone! No one insults the Prime Minister in my presence!"

Felix tried to brace himself, but the blow sent him crashing into the wall. Blood sprayed from his lips.

Magnar didn't stop. His steps thundered across the marble floor, the very air around him growing heavier. He was ready to finish it.

"Enough, Magnar!" Lumina shouted, stepping between them, arms wide.

Rene, Hendo, and Relio stood behind her, ready to draw their weapons.

"You're all in on this?" Magnar's eyes flared with fury.

"We came here with a mission," Lumina said firmly. "To meet Magnus Belzore. Because he's the one who cursed Bernaum—our village has been parched for months. We're only here to ask him to lift the spell!"

Magnar stood in stunned silence—then exploded again.

"So that's it?! You didn't come for me, Lumina? Even after we were betrothed? Born on the same day, in the same month, destined to unite our kingdoms! And now... you side with these nobodies?! For a forgotten village?!"

The outburst drew attention. High-ranking officers appeared. Then came Migora, Isolde, and Zyphora—Magnar's siblings.

Felix, bloodied but upright, leaned on Hendo and Relio. "I only wish to meet Magnus Belzore," he repeated, voice quiet but unwavering.

The room fell into stunned silence.

"How dare you speak my master's name!" Migora snapped. His spear flashed—lightning-quick—and struck Felix's shoulder. Hendo and Relio were blasted away before they could react.

Felix dropped, blood dripping from the wound.

But he didn't die.

Veledra—the magic given to him by Matale da Luna—had saved his life.

"You're still breathing?" Migora sneered. "No one's ever survived my spear before."

He raised his weapon for a second strike.

Lumina intervened with her radiant shield of light—but it shattered instantly. The force threw her back, hurtling toward the wall—until a gust of gentle frost caught her.

Isolde's ice magic had saved her just in time.

Migora's spear lunged forward once more… only to be halted by the curling vines of Zyphora's magic.

Rene, Hendo, and Relio struggled to their feet—but none of them could fight back.

"Brother," said Magnar, bowing his head. "Forgive me... I shouldn't have allowed this trash into the palace."

Migora's expression was ice. "It doesn't matter who they are. Remove them. Now."

And with that, he turned away—leaving the room as if a storm had passed through and shattered everything.

Chaos erupted. Palace guards surged in from every corridor, forming a tight barricade around Felix and the others.

"Arrest them! Throw those four out of the palace—now!" Magnar bellowed, fury seething in his voice. He reached for Lumina's wrist, attempting to pull her toward him.

"Lumina, stay. Come with me to my castle. You don't belong with them," he pleaded, his tone deceptively gentle.

But Lumina ripped her hand away. "No! I'm staying with them. I didn't come here for you!"

"Lumina, you don't belong at their side…" Magnar's voice softened, almost begging.

"And you think I belong with you?!" Lumina snapped. "You think Felix insulted your precious minister? I don't care! I came with them—and I'll leave with them!"

The air thickened. Magic trembled in the space around them. Magnar, in a moment of desperation, reached out with his power—binding Lumina in place.

She couldn't move. Compared to Magnar's magical strength, she was completely outmatched.

But before it escalated further, Isolde stepped forward, her voice calm but cutting.

"Magnar, you are a prince. You should never force your will like this."

"Heh… force?" Magnar scoffed, bitterness lacing his voice. "Sister, I'm betrothed to her. Isn't it my duty to protect her?"

The guards began dragging Felix and his friends toward the exit.

And then—BOOM!

A violent aura erupted from Felix. Black fire surged through the room, shaking the very walls of Astranova.

"W-What?! Th-that's… black flame?!" Magnar shouted, stunned.

And then… a voice echoed from the very heights of the chamber.

"That's enough."

Every head turned. A lone elderly man sat calmly atop a floating white cloud, shaped like a throne.

"Easy now, boy," he said gently, but the weight of his presence silenced the entire hall.

Magnus Belzore had arrived.

The moment they saw him, everyone in the room bowed.

Everyone… except Felix.

"I recognize that pendant around your neck," said Magnus. "It reminds me of someone. If you're willing... I'll take you as my student."

A gasp rippled through the chamber. Magnus Belzore—Prime Minister of Astranova—offering to take a disciple himself?!

But—

"I'm not interested," Felix replied, cold and clear.

The words cut like a blade. No hesitation. No fear.

"You're… Magnus Belzore?" he continued. "The one who wields Sky Magic?"

"I am," Magnus answered.

"I'll become your student on one condition… Lift the Rain Wall spell from Bernaum—and kill Mirelda Bloodrune."

The room froze. Magnus went still, then let out a slow chuckle.

"Two requests? You're bold, young man," he said with a weary smile. "All I wanted was an explanation for that pendant. But from the look of you… I see now you're not someone easily reasoned with."

He turned to the guards. "Release them. Let them go."

"But, my lord!" Magnar protested. "I want to keep Lumina here!"

"On what grounds?" Lumina snapped. "I've respected you in the past because of our meetings. But now… I see you clearly."

"Lumina, you can't just walk away from me!" Magnar raised his voice. "We're betrothed! Born on the same day, same month—this union is meant to strengthen our empires!"

"I'm not some doll you can claim, Magnar. And I'm no longer the princess in your fantasy."

With that, Lumina turned and walked back to her friends.

Magnus nodded calmly. "Your first request is fulfilled. But the second… that will take time. Mirelda Bloodrune left the empire nearly six months ago. We're still investigating her ties to the Black Empire."

"Then I'll wait," Felix said simply. "But only once you've dealt with it."

"You insolent—!" Magnar roared, charging forward again.

WHOOM!

A blast of raw pressure stopped him mid-stride.

"Enough, Magnar," Magnus said softly—yet his voice cracked like divine thunder.

Isolde stepped forward. "I will escort them out of the palace."