Prince Sion stared at the Dragon King's back as Ignis walked away from him. Every step the dragon took felt like a door closing. This was his one chance to prove himself.

  It was not easy being the second child. The eldest would inherit everything—the crown, the throne, the kingdom, the legacy. His brother, Edmund, would rule San Dioral and make the decisions that shaped history. He, on the other hand, would always be the spare.

  But even that wasn’t guaranteed. Once Edmund married and had children, Sion would slide further down the succession. Third. Fourth. Fifth. Each new nephew or niece would become another layer of obscurity burying him deeper.

  He saw it happen to his uncles. His father had two younger brothers. Sion couldn't recall the last time anyone had mentioned them at court. They existed somewhere in the margins of the kingdom, given estates far from the capital, their names appearing only on official documents that required the full royal lineage. That was his future. A footnote. A name in dusty records that historians would skip over on their way to the kings who mattered.

  But there were advantages to being the second son, weren't there?

  He was grateful to Edmund for shouldering all the responsibilities. While his brother spent his childhood sitting through endless council meetings, memorizing tax codes and trade agreements, Sion spent his time adventuring. He was even allowed to enlist in the army. To train under Grand General Louis himself, learning strategy and warfare.

  And now he had this chance. If he did what no one else had ever done… if he tamed the Dragon King, everything would change. He would never become a king. But he could become the Dragon Prince and serve his kingdom all the same.

  His legs trembled beneath him. His shield lay in pieces at his feet. But Sion's fingers closed around the shaft of his spear.

  [Gungnir]. The legendary lance his grandfather had pressed into his hands three years ago, on a winter morning when the old king could barely stand. "This found me when I needed it most," he'd said. "Perhaps it will do the same for you."

  Sion raised the spear toward the Dragon King's back. The weapon hummed in his grip, responding to his resolve.

  "Ignis Primus." His voice cut through the volcanic air. "I will defeat you."

  The Dragon King half-turned, amusement in his eyes.

  [Meteor Dive]

  He launched himself skyward, channeling every ounce of strength into the leap. His boots left the scorched ground and he rocketed upward, higher than he'd ever managed before. Twenty feet. Thirty. Forty. The wind screamed past his face as he climbed, he was flying without wings.

  Then he felt it. A massive updraft that accelerated him higher still.

  He looked down.

  Far below, the Pictomancer swept his brush in broad circular strokes. Green-white paint flowed forth from it, rendering a hurricane in pigment. The painted storm spiraled upward in a widening gyre.

  The hurricane caught Sion in the middle and flung him higher still. Sixty feet. Seventy. The Dragon King shrank to the size of a chess piece below him.

  Green-white wind spiralled forth it, a hurricane rendered in pigment. The painted gale spiraled upward, feeding Sion's ascent, carrying him past where mortal strength could reach.

  [Dual Tech: Hurricane Dive]

  Sion's grip tightened on Gungnir, building power as gravity began to reassert its claim. He inverted in the air, angling the legendary lance downward, aiming for the Dragon King.

  The hurricane's rotation added torque to his body. He began to spin, slowly at first, then faster as the storm's momentum transferred to him.

  The Dragon King's eyes widened as Sion plummeted toward him, spinning like a drill within the hurricane's fury.

  [Ignis used Flame Barrier]

  The Dragon King summoned a defensive wall of white-hot plasma designed to vaporize anything it touched. But the hurricane disrupted their formation. The barrier flickered and guttered as opposing forces collided, fire trying to rise, wind forcing it down and outward.

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  Ignis raised his plasma greatsword overhead to defend. The blade burned brighter, drawing power from the molten lake around them.

  [Ignis Primus used Flare Strike]

  The Dragon King's strike came up to meet Sion's descent. The two weapons met in midair.

  But Gungnir couldn’t be stopped. The lance punched through the plasma blade, shattering it into a thousand motes of fire. The hurricane's rotation added force to the strike, turning Sion's entire body into a living projectile. The legendary weapon found its mark.

  The spear pierced through the Dragon King's shoulder. Black blood sprayed from the wound.

  Sion landed in a crouch, Gungnir still embedded in the dragon's shoulder. He wrenched the spear free and rolled away as Ignis's fist came down where his head had been, cratering the stone.

  "You wounded me." The Dragon King touched his shoulder, bringing his fingers away stained with his own blood. He stared at it for a moment, then began to laugh. "Twenty-three years since I last bled. Perhaps you are not a disappointment after all, Sion Margaux."

  His human form shimmered, but he didn't transform back. Instead, he gripped his shoulder, and the wound sealed itself with a hiss of cauterized flesh.

  [Ignis Primus used Dragon's Regeneration]

  "But can you do it again?"

  The Dragon King moved. His fist came in low, aimed at Sion's ribs. The prince sidestepped, bringing Gungnir around in a sweeping arc. Ignis caught the spear's shaft with his bare hand, and for a moment they stood locked, testing each other's strength.

  [Prince Sion used Power Strike]

  [Ignis Primus used Dragon's Might]

  Sion's arms shook. The Dragon King was far stronger, but the prince's technique was better. He released one hand from the spear and drove his palm into Ignis's elbow joint, disrupting the leverage. The Dragon King's grip loosened for just an instant.

  It was enough.

  Sion yanked Gungnir free and thrust forward, aiming for the Dragon King's throat. Ignis twisted aside, but not quite fast enough. The spear's edge carved a line across his collarbone, drawing another spray of black blood.

  "Better!" Ignis grinned, teeth bared. His fist lashed out, catching Sion across the jaw.

  Sion's head snapped to the side. He tasted blood. But he didn't fall. He spat it out and reset his stance, Gungnir held ready.

  They circled each other. The Dragon King's human form bled from two wounds now. Sion's jaw was already swelling, his breathing labored from cracked ribs.

  Ignis attacked first. A straight punch, telegraphed and obvious. Sion ducked under it and drove Gungnir toward the Dragon King's exposed side. But it was a feint. Ignis's other hand came around in a backhand that would have taken Sion's head off.

  Sion saw it coming. He dropped flat, the Dragon King's fist passing through empty air where his head had been. From the ground, Sion swept Gungnir in a low arc, cutting at Ignis's ankle.

  [Critical Hit: Joint Strike]

  [Ignis Primus's mobility reduced]

  The Dragon King stumbled.

  Sion pressed the advantage. He surged to his feet, Gungnir becoming a blur of strikes. Thrust, slash, sweep, pivot, thrust again. Each attack targeted joints and tendons.

  [Prince Sion used Relentless Assault]

  Ignis blocked most of them with his forearms, but each blocked strike cost him. His regeneration couldn't keep pace with the onslaught. Black blood ran down his arms, dripped from his elbows.

  "Enough!"

  [Ignis Primus used Flame Burst]

  Fire exploded outward from the Dragon King's body in all directions. Sion threw himself backward, but the edge of the blast caught him, searing his left arm and side.

  They stood apart, both breathing hard. Sion's left arm hung useless, skin blistered and raw. The Dragon King's human form was a mess of wounds, black blood coating his chest and arms.

  They stared at each other, neither moving. Sion's red blood and Ignis's black, pooled on the stone between them, steaming in the heat.

  Then Ignis began to laugh, “I haven’t been this entertained in decades. Tell me mortal, why do you fight? For glory?”

  “Not glory. No.”

  “Then why? You could have stayed in your palace. Lived a comfortable life as the spare prince. Why cross the North Sea?”

  “Responsibility.”

  “Explain.”

  Sion took a breath. "My brother Edmund is a good man. The best man I know. He's everything a crown prince should be. Just, wise, capable. He's carried the weight of the kingdom's future since the day he was born. And because he existed, I never had to. I never had to bear the burden of being worthy. Never had to be the best, the brightest, the one everyone depended on. Edmund shielded me from all of it. From expectation, and from scrutiny."

  Sion lowered his spear. "He gave me the freedom to be his brother instead of his rival. To support him instead of scheming against him. How many second sons can say that?"

  "Few," Ignis admitted. "Most would have poisoned him by now."

  "Exactly." Sion met the Dragon King's gaze. "So now it's my turn to return the favor. Vandiel is coming. The Demon King's armies grow stronger every year, and when they march, they'll march on San Dioral. Edmund will have to face them. He'll have to stand on the walls and watch our people die defending the kingdom he was born to rule. But if I bond with you, then I can meet Vandiel in the sky. I can be the spear that strikes first, the shield that breaks their vanguard before they ever reach our walls. I can relieve that burden from my brother's shoulders."

  "You would die for him?"

  "I would fight for him," Sion corrected. "Dying is easy. It's one moment of courage, then it's over. Fighting means waking up every day and choosing to carry the weight he's carried alone for so long. It means being worthy of the freedom he gave me."

  Ignis stared at him for a long moment. The laughter had faded from his eyes. “Then you understand what it means to be king better than most who wear crowns.” His human form began to shimmer. “A true king does not rule for himself. He carries what others cannot. He stands where others will not.”

  [Trial of Ignis: Complete]

  The Dragon King's full form emerged from the light, towering over Sion once more. But this time, he lowered his massive head until his eye was level with the prince.

  "Rise, Sion Margaux. You are the ninth to challenge me, and the first to succeed."