House Shadow Estate.
. . . . . .
Astra jolted awake.
His breath caught in his throat. For a moment, the shadows of the battle still danced behind his eyes—flame and void, laughter and pain. A dream of war and prophecy. Light and Dark. A dance that ended in stillness.
His body ached.
Bandaged, drenched in sweat, muscles on fire. He sat up sharply in the training chamber, heart pounding, eyes snapping to the mana wall's faintly glowing clock.
"Ten hours…!"
Panic struck him like a blade.
The semifinals.
He scrambled to his feet, ignoring the tearing protest of every joint, and reached for his coin. The obsidian disk warmed in his palm, shimmered, and bloomed into projection—then glitched, flickered... and updated.
A line of text scrolled in ghostlight:
Dusk Prince: WITHDRAWN due to Rank Ascension. Match forfeited.
Astra blinked.
"Wait. What?"
He read it again. Then again.
A clip auto-played—grainy footage of the Dusk Prince clashing with a prodigal scion from Dunya. The scion's magic was strange—constructive, almost divine. A rare form of mystical creation magic that seemed to counter the prince completely. The Scion fought with weapons, creations, light...it seemed crazy
And yet.
yet at the end of the battle, the Prince had begun to glow as he made the whole arena shroud in true darkness. A radiance formed around him. A detonation—not of magic, but of essence.
He advanced.
Right there. In the arena. over the Dunya scion, who was badly injured.
Forced into evolution by battle.
Aperfect storm. Pressure. Atmosphere. Intent. Enough to push him to Rank Two in the middle of the match. A rare phenomenon—but not unheard of.
The rules were clear: Ascension equals withdrawal. And since his opponent lost, Astra advanced.
He exhaled slowly.
"Impressive... I wonder what rank core he got."
His eyes drifted downward.
Updated Bracket: Astra – Finalist
"Damn…" he whispered. "No way."
He stood still for a moment, as the reality settled in like a cold wind brushing across scorched skin.
He tapped into the mana network.
It detonated.
His messages had exploded—mentions, reposts, slowed footage of his final blow against Lucien. The infamous moment: Shadowfall meeting Setting Sun.
And not just the duel.
The aftermath.
The dagger from the shadows. The eyes, dead and divine. The collapse.
They weren't just calling it legendary.
They were calling it mythic.
Commentators were screaming comparisons—"The next great shadow? The birth of an era?" Theorists from all six realms dissected his spell frame-by-frame, trying to unweave the moment where darkness consumed light.
"His spell is a construct of genius. It leeches the solar essence of Lucien's spell, feeding it into the void. Only possible with near-perfect S-rank shadow affinity. And for the shadows to withstand the sun? That's not affinity—that's devotion. House Shadow now holds two unmatched shadow users at rank one. Vespersion... and Astra."
He smirked.
They still hadn't figured it out.
His celestial affinity? Masked.
His star core? Hidden.
All of it woven beneath the spell's design. Even open confrontation hadn't revealed the truth.
But he knew better.
Angels would see through that easily. And Saints... maybe worse.
He shut the feed, leaning back with a slow exhale.
Still, the memory of the spell clung to his spine like frost. He could feel it in his bones.
Shadowfall.
It wasn't just a spell.
It was a declaration.
Unlike Lucien's Sun of Dawn, a manifestation born of divine harmony—summoned at will, basking in celestial right—Shadowfall demanded everything. A field saturated with celestial mana. A celestial anchor from its caster. A world bent toward twilight.
It wasn't a weapon.It was a phenomenon.
And when it worked?
It didn't respect rank.
It broke it.
He chuckled to himself, imagining analysts tearing out their hair trying to classify it. There was no neat tier, no neat counter.
Just darkness.
And the silence it left behind.
Three days until the finals.
All ranking duels compressed into a single day for spectacle—ritualistic tradition and glorious symmetry.
Fine.
Three days to rest.
Three days to prepare.
Aster Hunt....
He skimmed his messages.
Vesper had sent three—loud and unapologetic.
"You madman. I thought you exploded. I'm buying you a drink even if you're half-dead. Also: we're training that domain spell of yours. Don't argue."
Alistair's was cryptic as ever:
"It worked. Don't worry. But it didn't work on them..."
Typical.
Velora, ever cold and exact:
"I admit it. You impressed me. Don't die before the finals."
And then another
Seraphine.
"I need to see you."
Astra paused.
Read the line again.
Then tilted his head and laughed under his breath, rubbing at his temples.
"Is she a groupie now or something?"
He didn't open it.
Not yet.
Instead, he let the shadows curl around him again. Cool. Silent. Loyal.
His body still ached. His mind still burned.
But beneath it all—beneath the fatigue and pressure and noise—there was something else.
...
Time passed—slowly, but it didn't matter. Astra let the hours slip by in quiet reflection, his mind a whirl of half-formed thoughts and restless tension. Eventually, the ache in his body settled, but it was replaced by something deeper—a growing recognition of the weight he carried now. The weight of the world, of expectations.
As the eternal twilight of Duskfall bled into a deeper shade of violet, casting long, shifting shadows across the estate, Astra stood up, his movements quiet but purposeful. His hand brushed against the walls of his chambers, finding the cool, steady stone beneath his fingertips, grounding himself in the present.
He left the estate, stepping out into the vast courtyard of House Shadow. His eyes narrowed against the shifting light, his body already slipping into the rhythm of the shadows.
But something had changed.
The usual noise of the estate—the chatter of servants, the rustling of nobles in the distance—fell silent as he walked. The shadows weren't the only thing that seemed to follow him now. The eyes of House Shadow's nobility were on him. Silent. Appraising. And there was something else. Awe. Unease. A new kind of wariness.
The path stretched ahead, the stone tiles beneath his boots a familiar rhythm. But now, every step felt different. Every movement seemed to carry the weight of their gaze. They were watching him like they watched Vesperion—a prodigy, a scion whose every action seemed imbued with some kind of destiny. There was no mistaking it.
The whispers started at the edges, too quiet to make out but loud enough to carry on the winds of House Shadow's halls.
"Is he the next one? The next... prodigy?"
"Did you see the match? The shadows... they obey him like they do with lord Vesperion."
"Rank One... he's only just begun. What will he do when he truly ascends?"
The nobles, from the highest of them to those barely above the dust, all watched with similar expressions—either in awe or with a calculating sharpness that spoke of their instincts to assess the potential threat, or the potential opportunity.
He wasn't the same Astra who had walked these halls a week ago.
He wasn't the same Astra who had bled under the weight of a thousand bruises.
The heavy door leading into the training wing of the estate loomed before him like a sentinel. Inside, there would be no politics. No smiles. No masks. Just sweat, silence, and the kind of pain that made you better.
And there, at the far end of the corridor, leaned Vesperion—tall, relaxed, like he owned the hallway and possibly the entire moonlit sky above it. His arms were crossed, and his smile? Infuriatingly smug.
"Princess," Vesperion drawled, his voice calm and laced with amusement. "You've been busy."
No teasing lilt this time. No overt mockery. Just... something quieter. A weight in the words. Like he saw the shift in Astra before Astra did.
Astra smirked, unwilling to give him more than that. "You didn't think I'd sit this one out, did you? I do have Aster Hunt in the finals you know.."
Vesper's grin grew, but his eyes sharpened. "You're not who you were when you walked through these doors." He pushed off the wall and approached, his presence as casual as it was commanding. "This isn't just about power anymore. Not for you."
Astra's smile faded slightly, the truth in those words landing harder than expected. He nodded once. "I know."
No more masks. No more pretending. He felt it the moment the nobles started watching him—not with disdain—but with calculation.
He wasn't just Astra of House Shadow anymore.
Vesperion motioned toward the door behind him, stepping aside. "Let's make sure you're ready for it. Come. I've set up something special." Astra's gaze sharpened. It was as if the weight of the moment was building again, pressing down on his shoulders, urging him forward into something larger than himself. The door creaked open with a soft, welcoming groan, revealing a quiet, isolated training room beyond. Inside, the air was thick with mana, flickering with the intensity of controlled power. "You've got three days," Vesperion said, his tone shifting to something more focused. "We'll see how much you can refine in that time. No distractions. No games."
Astra stepped inside, and the door shut with a thud that echoed like a seal being carved into fate.
Then—
Vesperion let out a low whistle as the door clicked shut behind them, sealing them off from the world. The shadows curled around him like puppies that had missed their master, practically purring with glee. "Dude," he grinned, eyes shining with excitement, "that was sick. You obliterated those smug Dawn bastards. Like—do you see the way they flinched at the end? They're definitely gonna be watching you now. Might even try to assassinate you." He paused dramatically, raising a brow.
"Which is hilarious, because—surprise! You're actually kinda terrifying." Astra snorted, but Vesperion wasn't done. "Also," Vesperion said, stepping closer with that annoying glint of 'I-know-something-you-don't' in his eyes, "I want to learn that spell. That flashy, freaky, what-the-hell-was-that spell. But... let's be real." His grin grew sharper. "I'm basically you, but buffer, prettier, and with even sexier shadow magic."
A beat. Then a grin like knives.
The shadows hummed, clearly siding with Vesper.
Astra raised an eyebrow. "You know...you're insufferable."
"Thank you, thank you, I do try." Vesper clapped a hand to his heart, mock solemn. "But hey—jokes aside. That spell you cast? Not just shadow."
"But hey," he added, lifting his hands in surrender, "I'm not gonna pry. That wasn't just shadow mana. Most shadowcasters might sense it, but they won't get it. Not really. But me?" He tapped his chest. "I do know you. So yeah, whatever that was—it's fine. I've got my own weird domain stuff too."
Astra's gaze sharpened as he cocked his head, intrigued despite himself. "You keep saying that, but I've never actually seen your 'true magic.' You're saying you've got weird magic too?"
Vesperion gave him an exaggerated look of offense. "Excuse you. That's because you weren't strong enough before. I didn't want to melt your brain, you adorable little fledgling. And oh, please. Weird doesn't even cover it."
Vesper replied, shadows flickering at his fingertips. "I've got stuff I haven't shown you yet because I didn't want your brain to melt. But now?" He looked him over. "Now you're terrifying enough to handle it."
"Charming."
"Thank you. But now?" He gave Astra a once-over, nodding approvingly. "Now you're scary enough to handle it. Between that curse of yours and your freaky shadow speed, you're basically a blur with a vendetta. Honestly, if I didn't know you, I'd be terrified."
"Gee, thanks."
"No, seriously," Vesperion said, suddenly more genuine, though the smile lingered. "You're fast, Astra. Too fast. That curse? That affinity? It's not just giving you power—it's turning you into something else. Something people don't have a word for yet. Not quite devil-touched, not quite divine, just… weird. In a good way."
He stepped back and let his shadows stretch across the floor like spilled ink, curling into runes and glyphs. "Which is why we need to get you a domain spell. Your own. One that's just shadow, your version of it. Something pure. Something filthy and beautiful and entirely yours."
Astra's eyes narrowed. "And what, you're gonna help me find that?"
"I'm your older, hotter magical twin," Vesper said, beaming. "Of course I am."
"And what's your domain spell then, oh mighty one?" Vesperion's grin widened until it looked almost mischievous. "Wouldn't you like to know?"
Astra rolled his eyes. "I asked, didn't I?"
Vesper gave a low laugh. "Okay, fine. I'll show you... eventually. It's kind of a whole thing. Lots of flair. A bit dramatic. Involves screaming and probably atmospheric music. You know how the fun stuff... oh great Lord of Shadowfall."
Astra rolled his eyes.
Vesperion leaned back against the wall, arms crossed, a smug little grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"Alright, since you're finally strong enough to walk without tripping over your own talent," he said, eyes twinkling, "I'll let you in on a tiny little secret. Just a crumb." Astra raised an eyebrow.
"Is this going to be one of those secrets that everyone kind of knows, but also pretends they don't because politics?"
"Exactly!" Vesper beamed, as if Astra had just solved a particularly clever riddle.
"See? You're catching on." He held up a hand, and with a lazy flick of his fingers, a flame sparked into being and his dark eyes glowed with a subtle tinge of dark red. The flame wasn't normal—not by any means. It flickered with deep crimson and oily black edges, warping the air around it like heat haze from a broken mirror. The flame pulsed, humming with wrongness. It felt alive. Hungry.
The shadows in the room didn't shrink from it—they danced, wild and eager, like something had just whispered chaos into their ears.
Astra's curse flared—hard. Threads pulled tight in his chest. The flame was more than fire. It was something else.
"Wha—" he breathed.
"This," Vesper said, casually, "is the part where most people start running. Or screaming. Or both, honestly. But you? You get a private demo. Congratulations."
Astra stared, his curse now screeching as it tried to thread together fire, shadow, chaos, and peace. He spoke softly, as if the truth might unravel him. "That's... not just flame."
"Nah," Vesper shrugged. "It's not. It's Shadowflame."
He said it like a joke, but the air dropped a degree. The shadows on the walls slithered in excitement, like something chaotic had stirred.
"It's what happens when my shadow affinity hooks up with my flame affinity during a particularly chaotic night and refuses to tell anyone they're dating," he quipped. "Unstable. Extremely rare. Slightly forbidden in three Realms and banned in two or three dozen famed academies. But hey, I like it."
Astra blinked. "You're joking."
"I always sound like I'm joking," Vesper said with a grin. "That's how I get away with it."
He stepped forward, the flame still spinning lazily above his palm.
He stepped forward, the flame still hovering lazily in his hand. "In places like the Underworld—yeah, the one from The Tales of Atlas—or the Realm of Death? This stuff goes feral or so they say. But it starts twisting thoughts, warping space, whispering in dead tongues... which is super dramatic, obviously. I don't usually let it get that bad."
Astra didn't speak. He watched as the flame crackled in impossible colors, light and shadow braided so tightly they bled into something entirely other.
"I've got three variants," Vesper said, raising his hand. "One—Flame of Shadow. Mostly shadow. Cold. Sneaky. Leaves behind whispers. Very aesthetic."
The flame shifted, its hue changing.
"Two—Shadowflame. Equal parts. Messy. Corrupts minds, mana, matter. Great for parties."
Another shift. Deeper red. The shadows recoiled, then came closer.
"And then there's Flame of Chaos. That one I don't bring out unless I'm trying to make a statement. It's not smart. It's not subtle. It's barely flame at that point—it's just... pure, beautiful nonsense. Reality doesn't like it, so you won't see it as it also kinda hurts..."
Astra gave him a long look. "You're unhinged."
"Correct," Vesper said brightly. "But stylishly unhinged."
The shadows were now practically vibrating around him, eagerly swaying like a cult at their favorite sermon. The flame dimmed slightly, becoming something that was felt more than seen.
"Oh, and before you ask? Yeah. I've got three domain spells too." Vesper smirked. "One for each variant. Shadow, flame, chaos. The last one? It's called Shadowflame Domain. It doesn't care if you're Rank One. It doesn't even blink at Rank Twos. It just—gets in."
Astra opened his mouth, his curse flaring violently now, but Vesper held up a finger.
"Nope. Not telling you what it does. It'd break your curse, and more importantly—I plan on beating your ass in duels for the next decade. Gotta keep some tricks up my sleeve."
"Gods."
He laughed, a rich, amused sound that echoed strangely in the shadow-drenched room. "I'm still a sneaky bastard at heart. Fast, quiet, annoying. But even I need some flair. Otherwise, what's the point?"
He laughed, rich and unapologetic. "Now come on, Monster. Let's go find your domain."
The training room was cloaked in a deep, comfortable darkness, the shadows stretching and shifting around them. Astra leaned against the wall, trying to focus on Vesper's words, but the Blessing of Curiosity hummed incessantly in the back of his mind. It was a constant, nagging presence, pulling his attention in a thousand directions at once.
Vesper sat next to him, looking far more at ease in the dimly lit room explaining the idea of domains. The shadows seemed to respond to him, but there was something different in the way they obeyed. They were his — no question about it. Astra could feel the weight of that truth in the air, and it made him wonder about his own domains, his own power.
Star Magic, he thought, his mind drifting. His connection to the stars had always felt foreign, distant. The sensation of those pinpricks of light burning through his skin when he clashed with Lucien under Shadow Fall still lingered in his memory. His star magic — it felt like something more than just a force. It felt like something chosen for him.
But the Blessing of Curiosity tugged at his thoughts, forcing his mind to wander, tugging him away from his focus, away from the present conversation. He couldn't stop it.
What if my star magic is like my shadows? What if I could bring that power into my domain, too?
"Astra," Vesper's voice cut through his thoughts, sharp as a blade. "Focus."
Before he could even react, Astra felt the sting of Vesper's hand on the back of his head.
"Ow! Damn it, Vesper!" He winced, rubbing the sore spot.
"Focus." Vesper didn't even flinch, his tone like a gentle reprimand, yet still firm enough to make Astra pause.
Astra laughed, rubbing his neck. "Yeah, yeah. My curse won't let me." He exhaled a breath, trying to refocus. The shadows around them responded, a soft ripple through the air. His mind itched, but he let the shadows ground him. He knew it was the only way to get back on track.
"Curiosity's a blessing and a curse," Vesper said, looking at him with an almost amused glint in his eyes. "But right now, it's a curse and one you need to control more"
Astra smirked. "Tell me about it. It's like having a thousand thoughts crashing against my brain all at once. I can't stop them."
Vesper's expression softened just slightly, a flicker of understanding in his eyes. "I get it. But if you want to get better at this, you need to block that out. Focus on the now, Astra you aren't going to get stronger if you're distracted."
Astra took a deep breath and focused. The shadows in the room reacted immediately, gathering at the edges of his vision. He let them move freely, the familiar pull of the shadows tingling through his senses. It was his comfort zone, where his will had power, but he couldn't deny the challenge of it.
Vesper leaned forward, watching him carefully. "Domains are more than just power. They're about your will. Your belief. It's not enough to just have strong magic; your domain will only be as strong as your belief in it."
Astra glanced at him, still feeling the shadows shift around him. "So, it's not just the spell, it's... how much I believe I can control it?"
"In a sense, it's more about manifesting your belief through sheer power and will." Vesper nodded. "Think of your Shadowfall. It's not just about manipulating shadows. It's about claiming them. About laying a piece of the world under your control. It's about making them fight the sun and feed off it... simply because you commanded them to. You believe you control it, and that belief feeds your power."
Astra's mind flickered again, his curiosity tugging. What about my star magic, though? Could that work the same way?
But before his thoughts wandered further, Vesper's hand smacked the back of his head. Astra winced.
"Focus. We're talking about domains here, Astra."
Astra rubbed the spot and gave a lopsided grin. "Alright, alright. You don't need to remind me twice."
Vesper sighed, but there was a trace of amusement in his eyes. "Your Shadowfall is one of your domains, but it's not the only one. A domain is a reflection of who you are, Astra. It's more than just a spell or a type of magic. It's your will given form. And just like your will, it can evolve. Grow. Twist. Strengthen."
Astra nodded slowly. The shadows around him coiled tighter, more responsive. They weren't just a tool anymore. They were a limb, a weapon, an echo of his emotions and belief. His Shadowfall wasn't just a spell. It was a claim. His claim.
"But what about a clash?" he asked, the thought slipping out. "How does a domain clash work?"
Vesper took a breath, then leaned back. "It's like a battle of reality. Two casters push their version of the world into the same space — and only one can remain. It's not just power. It's whose truth the world accepts."
Astra blinked. "So in my clash with Lucien," he said, "we were on equal ground, at least by the nature of Shadowfall. But still... it was shadow versus sunlight. I should've lost."
"In theory, yes," Vesper said. "That's the affinity advantage. Lucien's Sun of Dawn is pure solar fire — light itself. It devours darkness. You shouldn't have stood a chance , yet your shadows became ever so tenacious under that black star of yours..."
"But," he added, "it was Lucien. The prodigal prince of Dawn. He's trained since birth. He inherited that domain. You made yours on the spot. Mid-match. No one expected that."
Vesper smiled. "And yet, you created a black star — something of equal intensity to the Sun of Dawn. A domain made in defiance of his. That was a statement, Astra. A message. I'm sure our angels loved it."
Astra's eyes narrowed slightly, the memory sharp and vivid. The crowd. The heat. The black sun roaring above him.
"Domains can clash for all kinds of reasons," Vesper continued. "Sometimes one is simply stronger. But sometimes the caster's will outweighs their element. A fire domain can overpower a water one if the fire mage burns with enough conviction. Maybe his flames aren't just hot — maybe they refuse to die out. Maybe his domain says, 'I burn until the end of time.'"
"Or," he added, "a water mage might command tides so vast and cold they extinguish everything. Not because water beats fire, but because their belief — their story — was stronger."
Astra leaned in. "So affinity matters in a sense. But will wins."
"Exactly," Vesper said. "It's not rock-paper-scissors. It's who's more stubborn. Who forces the world to bend. That's why domain clashes are rare — and terrifying. Two beliefs fighting to become reality."
He paused, then added with a smirk, "But that's a problem for Rank Threes. Maybe Rank Twos. Rank Ones? Pfft. I doubt more than twenty in the entirety of all the realms even have a domain spell. It's that rare."
Astra looked down at his hands. The shadows curled softly around his wrists. "So it's not just about magic," he said, his voice low. "It's about belief. Conviction. If I command the shadows, they move — not because they want to. But because they must. How tyrannical. Yet... they've always seemed scared of me."
"Yeah." Vesper's voice softened. "They've always unnaturally obeyed you. It's... uncanny. Sad, in a way."
That last part annoyed Astra.
Vesper's lips quirked. "Now that you understand the concept, I need to tell you about the types of domains. They vary, depending on the caster. Offensive, defensive, enhancement, suppression, illusion, conceptual... some don't even fall into a category. They're just unique."
"For example," he said, holding up a finger, "the Sun of Dawn is a legendary domain spell. Some angels of House Dawn use it. It transcends ranks. It enhances the caster, blinds enemies, and scorches the land. You saw it. Felt it. Lucien, a Rank One, using power that belongs to a pinnacle tier Rank Two."
Astra nodded. He remembered it clearly. The ground melting. The light burning his eyes. The crowd screaming.
"Your Shadowfall," Vesper continued, "is ironically equal. At least the version you used. But it's linked to the Sun of Dawn. To use it, you need a solar source. That's why it's considered a leech. A parasite. Beautifully and stupidly ironic."
"Either way, domains like these aren't taught. Not at Rank One. To even be near a breakthrough, you need to check four boxes:"
Vesper raised fingers as he counted:
"One: Mastery of self — and that usually is the requirement to reach Rank Two."
"Two: High affinity. At least high-A. Preferably S."
"Three: Skill in freeforming. You need to shape magic naturally."
"And four: A will strong enough to burn through the doubt of the world. A will that doesn't ask for permission. It demands."
He exhaled. "Truly a different league."
A beat of silence passed.
Then Vesper rubbed his face and muttered, "We need to get you a full-fledged solo shadow domain. And test the limits of Shadowfall, too."
Astra nodded, his thoughts finally stilling. The constant hum of his curse eased, the weight of uncertainty fading as he turned inward. The shadows curled around his breath. Each inhale brought more of them. Not hostile. Not wild. Just his.
He could feel it now.
They listened.
Because he believed they would.
And if there was one thing Astra had always been good at...
It was believing just a little too much in himself.