Primordial Heir: Nine Stars

”Nero, can I go against you next?”

Uexpectedly, it was Azalea who asked this, making Nero pause. But he saw no need to refuse. Both were knights, yet they had never faced each other. It would be his first time facing a long-range attacker whose primary weapon was a bow.

Khione gave the signal.

The air hummed with a new kind of tension. Nero and Azalea faced each other, a stark contrast of crackling, grounded energy and serene, aerial control. With Khione’s signal, the battle was joined.

Azalea moved with the fluid grace of a summer breeze. She didn’t just draw her bow; she seemed to pull the very air itself taut.

”Sky-Piercing Barrage!” She loosed a single arrow skyward, which split mid-air into a hundred, then a thousand, projectiles of compressed wind. They fell like a divine rain, screaming towards the earth, a storm of invisible blades that left shimmering distortions in their wake. There was no space to dodge; the entire field was a kill zone.

This was the moment the others truly understood the scope of Nero’s new power. Golden lightning didn’t just crackle around him—it erupted. His eyes, glowing with an electric sheen, tracked every single falling arrow as if they were suspended in honey. Time seemed to warp around him. He didn’t panic; he began to move.

It was a dance of impossible precision. He became a blur of controlled, lightning-fueled motion. He weaved between arrows, his body leaning at angles that defied physics. When a path closed, his sword, now wreathed in a low hum of electrical energy, would flash out. He didn’t swing wildly; he made micro-cuts, each one a perfect, sizzling parry that dissipated a wind arrow inches from his skin. Swipe, sidestep, pivot, duck. He was a maestro conducting the chaos, his feet barely touching the ground as he Flash Stepped in tiny, precise bursts to correct his position. In the span of three heartbeats, the field around him was clear, the last of the wind arrows harmlessly tearing up the ground where he no longer stood.

But this dazzling defense was exactly what Azalea had banked on. While he was a captive audience to her spectacle, she had not been idle. She had planted her feet, her bow held horizontally, and was chanting in a low, melodic tongue. The wind around her began to spiral, gathering leaves and dust into a frenzied vortex.

”Spiral Drill Shot!”

She released the string. The gathered vortex shot forward, not as a dispersed blast, but as a single, hyper-concentrated drill of wind, spinning with enough force to bore through solid granite. It screamed across the distance, its tip a visible point of destructive pressure aimed straight for Nero’s chest.

Nero’s eyes narrowed. He could dodge, but he chose not to. He wanted to test his power’s limits. He planted his feet, sheathed his sword, and crossed his arms before him. ”Lightning Aegis!” A shield of interwoven, crackling golden energy materialized in front of him, its surface alive with dancing arcs.

The Spiral Drill met the Lightning Aegis with a sound like a thousand sheets of metal tearing. For a moment, the two forces warred, the drill grinding relentlessly against the defensive storm. Sparks of gold and shards of dissipated wind exploded outwards. The shield held, but Nero’s boots skidded back an inch in the soil from the sheer concussive force.

Seeing her powerful shot neutralized, Azalea adapted instantly. She began to move, the wind carrying her with ethereal lightness across the field, making her a gliding, elusive target. She fired rapid volleys of Gale Blades, horizontal crescents of sharpened air that shot towards Nero from multiple angles.

Nero dismissed his shield. It was time to go on the offensive. He met the Gale Blades not with defense, but with superior, overwhelming speed. With a sharp CRACK, he vanished.

He didn’t appear in a single place. He became a storm of after-images, using Flash Step to create a ring of golden phantoms around the gliding elf. From one phantom, a lance of lightning shot towards her feet. From another, a sweeping arc of electricity aimed to cut off her path. He was herding her, controlling her movement, turning her agility into a trap.

Azalea, her emerald eyes wide with concentration, twisted in mid-air, using a gust of wind to alter her trajectory and avoid a shocking tendril of lightning. She was a leaf in a thunderstorm, beautiful and graceful, but ultimately at the mercy of a greater force.

Nero saw his opening. As she landed from her last evasive maneuver, he Flash Stepped directly in front of her, his sword still sheathed. His hand shot out, palm open. A network of fine, golden lightning erupted from his fingertips, not to strike her, but to encircle her.

”Current Cage.”

A prison of crackling electricity snapped into existence around Azalea, the bars humming with dangerous power. She froze, knowing that touching them would mean a paralyzing shock. Her bow was still raised, but the fight was over. She had been contained.

She slowly lowered her weapon, a look of stunned respect on her face, following something unknown passing through her eyes, a certain desire.

The cage of lightning dissolved.

Nero gave her a slight, respectful bow. ”A well-fought match.”

Azalea nodded absently, her mind too busy and preoccupied to focus on the present. She left in a daze, not even responding to Elreth’s call.

”What has gotten into you?” Elreth was confused, but her confusion lasted only a moment before her orange eyes burned with renewed desire. She had to fight him, at any cost. Her need to exchange blows with Nero was visible for all to see, as she didn’t bother to hide it. She walked toward Nero, who was receiving a bottle of an energizing drink from Khione. The ice queen was gently wiping sweat from his brow, her actions reminiscent of a caring wife.

Elreth’s brow twitched in annoyance at this blatant display of affection. She knew Khione was doing it intentionally—of course she was, otherwise she wouldn’t be wearing that cheeky grin, which only increased Elreth’s irritation.

’Be good, stay calm, Elreth. Don’t explode yet,’ she repeated this mantra several times, finally managing to calm her boiling emotions.

”Nero, once you’re done resting, may I ask for a match next?” Elreth asked. Her innate arrogance was nowhere to be seen; she appeared gentle, almost like the typical girl-next-door whom everyone loves.

Khione’s lips twisted. She almost felt sick. The way Elreth spoke was disgusting. She wanted Nero to refuse, to call out the princess’s obvious act. She unconsciously tightened her grip on his sleeve, a wave of jealousy washing over her. She knew he wasn’t an idiot and could see through Elreth’s scheme; she just didn’t like this new version of the princess. If before, Elreth’s arrogance made her act recklessly and easy to read, this new calm, composed version seemed like a scheming manipulator. Khione didn’t like it at all. Her womanly intuition was sounding alarm bells, screaming at her to keep this dangerous rival in check. And now there was Azalea, who was also starting to give off a dangerous vibe.

’Ah! So many annoying, thieving cats. Should I just freeze them all?’ A dangerous thought flashed through her mind before she shook her head. She mustn’t let her emotions get the better of her.

”Sure, why not? We’ll start in thirty minutes,” Nero responded, unaware of his girlfriend’s inner turmoil. He didn’t need that much time; with his powerful physical strength, he was almost fully recovered. He just wanted to spend some quiet time with Khione. He felt an inexplicable need to do so.

”Okay,” Elreth nodded with a sweet smile before leaving. She could feel Khione glaring at her, wishing to bore a hole through her body. The sensation amused her.