The Grand Duke's Son Is A Heretic

The metal framework of the harbor cranes groaned under the pressure of unnatural winds.

At the southern end of the port, Adele stood still, her long hair whipping against her face, eyes locked on the ongoing clash in the distance.

The very air around her shimmered with subtle distortions, like heat over a furnace. Her arms were crossed, but her eyes, predatory and focused, were full of calculation—and something else. Hunger.

"The Princess is quite strong."

Her voice was calm, dangerously calm. The corners of her lips curled slightly, not in respect but in anticipation."Even more reason I want to test her for myself…"

Beside her, Bernard was a frantic mess, shouting across a broken comms unit and barking orders to troops scattering like ants to their stations.

"Deploy the second squad—no, the heavy shield unit—wait, hold position, HOLD—!"

Suddenly, a soldier stumbled in, blood on his brow, panting heavily.

"Sir! They've broken through the outer perimeter!"

"WHAAATTT?!"

Bernard turned, face contorting in disbelief—only to freeze mid-breath.

A sound deeper and colder than thunder rolled over them, chilling everyone present.

It wasn't Bernard who had shouted. It was Adele.

Her head turned slowly toward the soldier, her lips twitching. The very space warped around her.

"What did you just say?"Her voice dropped an octave, carrying enough menace to still hearts.

A crushing pressure descended like an invisible hammer. The panicked soldier dropped to his knees, unable to breathe, his body pinned to the ground by pure intent.

"Miss Adele! Please—control it!" Bernard shouted, his voice shrill with panic.

He wanted to grab her, but even he couldn't move forward. He was pinned in place by sheer dread.

'What happened to her now?!' Bernard thought, drenched in cold sweat. 'She wasn't like this before!'

Adele blinked slowly, her rage simmering beneath her skin. She lessened the force—barely—and asked coldly:

"Did they escape?"

The soldier gasped, managed to nod, and choked out:

"Yes… they're still in the port… but they… got past the outer line…"

"Bastards…"

BOOM!!

A wave of raw energy exploded from Adele's body, blasting the soldier across the deck and into the sea like a rag doll.

The explosion shook the very planks of the pier. Nearby guards were thrown back, their armor clanging loudly against the port walls.

Bernard stepped back in terror, about to shout but stopped.

A storm had begun.

Adele stood tall, her gown shredded by the blast, revealing the fitted combat suit of a high-class imperial war mage beneath. Silver armoring etched with arcane marks glinted in the broken light. The air buzzed with floating particles of mana as her power surged.

"You couldn't handle a simple task…" she muttered coldly. "Do you even understand what will happen if even one of them escapes? What does that mean for the us?"

A gust of wind howled, and Adele's body began to rise—levitating, as if the earth itself had lost its grip on her.

"I'll go. I'll erase every pest left in this port myself."

BOOOM!!!

A whirlwind erupted from beneath her feet, tearing open the dock as she shot into the air like a meteor in reverse. The port shook. Waves crashed hard against the walls. Smoke billowed into the air. The chase had begun.

In the distance, the last light of the setting sun barely reached her glowing form—hovering above the battlefield like a goddess of judgment.

And below, every soldier who saw her rise felt it had one thought in mind.

This was no longer a mission.It was a purge.

......

The wind suddenly changed.

The air grew heavier, the pressure deepened, and the very space between Martina and the masked man vibrated with terrifying tension. Both of them stood still for a breath, and then—

BOOM!

They vanished.

A second later, two blurs clashed midair, their weapons meeting with a clang that rang through the entire port like a gong of war. The impact released a massive shockwave that cracked the stone under their feet, rippling outward and shattering the nearby crates and containers like glass.

Whirlwinds howled as sword slashes generated wind blades that spun like cyclones, shredding through metal, splitting pillars, and tossing debris into the sky.

Each time they clashed, an air-bubble fog exploded around them, distorting visibility and shaking the world like a thunderclap.

The masked man darted in with a feint and twisted low to strike Martina's waist, but she reacted instantly, deflecting the blade and countering with a spiral slash that cut into a steel crane behind them, cleaving it in two.

"Tsk!" the masked man clicked his tongue. "As expected from someone on the Continental List. You are worthy of strength."

Martina didn't reply. She ducked under a horizontal slash and thrust upward, her blade riding a wave of condensed wind. The force missed the masked man but struck a distant cabin, slicing it clean in half, the remains tumbling down with a thunderous crash.

Her voice was cold, sharp as her sword: "How did you know we were here?"

The masked man parried, flipped midair, and answered mockingly, "As an intelligent person, why don't you take a guess?"

Martina's eyes narrowed as she moved in again, sword dancing with terrifying speed. "The man who let us inside… either he's one of yours or you've been tracking him from the start."

The masked man smirked beneath his helm. "Quite a good guess…"

But he didn't clarify.

Martina frowned. Was the man truly a traitor? Or just a pawn they had already marked? She didn't like playing blind in a game of blood. If he had betrayed them, she'd cut him down without a blink. But if he had simply been used… that death would plant seeds of chaos among their own.

"You Imperial Knights…" she hissed, "…you really know how to bite back."

Then, with a roar, she released her limiter.

A tremendous pulse of energy erupted from her body, knocking back even the masked man for a split second. Her hair whipped free from its bindings, rising unnaturally into the air, suspended by sheer power.

The ground beneath her feet cracked and cratered. Her blade gleamed with violet hue, soaked in a killing aura so intense it made the masked man involuntarily shift back.

"What…?" he muttered, frowning as his instincts screamed. His eyes flickered behind the mask, noting the faint fading trails behind Martina—sure enough, the others had managed to defeat the knights and escaped.

Rage boiled in his veins.

"IDIOTS! USELESS!" he growled aloud, veins bulging. "Every one of you is USELESS!"

He looked back at Martina, his face twisting with a snarl.

"You played me!"

Martina didn't answer. Her eyes were dead calm, but her killing intent had grown razor-sharp.

"Since I'm exposed…" she said coldly, raising her sword overhead, "I'll just take a few heads to balance the scale."

The masked man roared and charged.

Martina met him.

Their blades collided again—but this time the shockwave turned into a storm.

Steel screamed. Wind exploded.

Containers were lifted off the ground and hurled. The port shook like an earthquake had struck it.

Above the sky, clouds began to spiral as if the heavens themselves were reacting to the fight.

And at the heart of that cataclysm—two figures danced, blade to blade, matching fury for fury.

Neither giving way.Neither is holding back.The battle of monsters has truly begun.