The Grand Duke's Son Is A Heretic

As Kael prepared to fight, Kael furrowed his brows, his mind racing.

Taking her down was nearly impossible. Staying back he has analyzed her.

Let alone defeat her—escaping unscathed under her wrath would already be a miracle. Only someone like Martina might be able to challenge Adele head-on. For the rest of them, it was a suicide mission.

He had options, reflection, hexagram technique, and the deadly precision of dual swords. He could outmaneuver her. The problem was... using both swords would expose him.

Reveal a truth he was desperate to keep hidden.

If Adele recognized his stance—his fighting style it'd all be over.

Because she would know: that the man behind the mask was none other than her brother.

That left him with two less dangerous—but equally risky—choices.

Use the remaining enchanted stones with their catastrophic effects… or rely on a single sword and the hexagram footwork.

"No," he muttered under his breath. "The two swords are too destructive for this. One sword and using a hexagram is enough for now."

He turned to the others, voice sharp.

"Regroup and support me!"

Adonis, blood trailing from the corner of his mouth, gave a slight nod and fell back into formation, signaling the others.

Kael then dashed forward. Adele's eyes sharpened, murderous and gleaming. She raised her sword and, with a violent slash, unleashed a blade of wind toward him.

Kael dropped low, sliding across the ground as the wind blast shredded through the air above him and smashed into a nearby container. Debris exploded into the air, but Kael was already on his feet, springing forward. He slashed diagonally.

Adele's blade met his in a metallic clang and effortlessly deflected the strike. But instead of being knocked back, Kael used the rebound to spin, twisting his momentum and unleashing a low kick aimed at her ribs.

Caught off-guard, Adele's sword was out of position. She raised her left arm to block—

BANG!

The impact rattled her bones. A wave of pain shot up her arm. Her eyes widened in agony and rage.

"YOUUU!" she roared.

Adele retaliated instantly, wind blades howling around her as she swung in a wide arc. Kael darted to the side, boots skidding across the gravel. His movements were fluid, and calculated, while his mind was three steps ahead as he predicted the scenarios.

He spun mid-run and unleashed a compressed arc of sword aura toward her.

Adele cleaved it apart with a single strike—but Kael was gone.

Her eyes scanned the dust-filled air. Where—

Her instincts screamed. She shifted left just in time as a sword sliced out from the shadows near her ribcage. It missed by inches, grazing her armor. She pivoted to counter—only to strike empty air.

Again. Gone.

Her expression twisted. Frustration growing.

A sharp flicker of silver glinted beside her—a dagger embedded in a crate.

She turned, preparing to strike behind her. Still nothing.

"What the hell…?" she growled.

A cold sensation crawled up her spine. Her head snapped upward—

Too late.

From above, Kael dove, blade gleaming, his aura condensed tightly along the edge. Adele raised her sword to defend—

BAAAAANG!

The impact detonated against her guard. The sheer pressure blasted her down onto one knee, the ground beneath cracking from the force. A jagged gash ripped across her shoulder where the energy tore through.

Her breath hitched. Her eyes widened as she looked up.

Kael stood above her, sword aimed, eyes devoid of warmth, cold, calculating, merciless.

He had only one thought in mind.That is just execution.

Adele's gaze dropped. Her knee… had nearly touched the ground.

Humiliation.

A storm boiled in her chest—fury, shame, a primal scream building in her throat.

"BASTAAAAAARD!!"

With a howl, her aura exploded outward. A violent cyclone of wind burst from her body, knocking Kael back like a ragdoll. Even from mid-air, he braced, arms crossed, sword held tight as he crashed into the ground and skidded.

The shockwave shattered crates, tore through ropes, and sent barrels flying. The air distorted around Adele, crackling with raw power.

Kael rolled, coughing, body shaking.

"Tch… that was too close."

He forced himself up, panting. That burst wasn't just power—it was wrath.

But in that exchange… he had landed the blow.

For the first time, Adele looked shaken.

And Kael had proven—he could dance on the edge of death and live.

But the next move might cost him everything.

Kael stood up, his chest rising and falling sharply, dust and blood streaking across his face. His blade trembled faintly in his hand—not from fear, but from the strain of blocking that last explosive blast of wind.

Across the scorched clearing, Adele slowly lifted her head.

Her face was a portrait of rage.

Her hair whipped violently in the storm of her own aura, eyes burning like two emerald suns. The wound on her shoulder bled, but she didn't seem to notice. Her pride had taken a deeper hit than her flesh.

"You, who are youmm," she said, voice low and venomous, more wind than words.

Kael didn't respond. His breathing steadied as he adjusted his stance—his left foot slightly angled, blade lowered, tip pointed toward the ground in an off-kilter guard. It looked sloppy to the untrained eye.

But it wasn't.

Kael tried to use Hexagram previously in disguise and thankfully it worked.

That was the reason she slid off.

Adele narrowed her eyes. "You're not just another mercenary…"

She began walking forward, every step sparking small bursts of air pressure as her power stabilized. Around them, the battlefield lay in ruin—splintered crates, torn tarp, dented steel frames. Freya and Herion lay half unconscious beside a crater, Linda had retreated behind cover, blood dripping from her nose as her magic circuits trembled from overload.

Adonis, barely standing, looked at Kael, then whispered with a bitter smirk, "You crazy bastard… you're still hiding something."

Kael didn't deny it. He couldn't. Not now.

Adele lifted her sword once more.

"I'll rip your mask off myself."

Then she vanished.Kael's pupils shrank.