The Grand Duke's Son Is A Heretic-Chapter 192

Through the dense curtain of smoke and drifting snow, Iris stood atop a ridge with a clear view of the battlefield below. Her breath fogged in the frigid air, but her gaze was unwavering, her body tense. Around her, the other Ice Elves crouched in silence—bows drawn, weapons ready, but none daring to interfere. What was unfolding before them was no ordinary fight. It was something fierce… primal.

Their eyes were locked on two figures.

Kael and Mira.

A lone swordsman in blood-soaked gear, battered and burnt, squaring off against an A-rank fire mage with a vicious gleam in her eyes. What began as a pursuit had now exploded into a brutal duel—flesh against flame, steel against spell.

"Gods…" one of the young Ice Elf scouts whispered. "He's still standing."

"He's fighting her alone?" murmured another. "She's A-rank. That's suicide."

"No," Iris said softly, her pale blue eyes narrowing. "That's Kael."

Down in the clearing, Mira spun, flame coiling around her arms. She hurled a searing blast toward Kael, the snow hissing and exploding into steam. Kael didn't dodge—he charged. His body crashed through the blaze, flames licking his cloak, his skin searing—but his sword didn't slow.

The Ice Elves flinched at the impact. Kael's blade slammed into Mira's guard, steel ringing against her dagger. Sparks flew. The ground cracked beneath them as they traded blow after blow. Fire spiraled, cutting through trees. Kael's sword arced in wide, brutal swings, while Mira ducked, spun, slashed low with her twin daggers, catching his side and drawing a splash of blood that painted the snow red.

"He's wounded!" shouted a scout, lifting his bow.

"No," Iris said again. "Watch."

Kael staggered from the cut, blood dripping, his breath ragged—but he didn't back away. His boots dug into the snow as he twisted his body, using the momentum to deliver a wide backswing. Mira leapt, avoiding the worst, but the edge of his sword scraped her thigh, tearing cloth and flesh alike.

"They're ripping each other apart," muttered one of the warriors, visibly disturbed.

As the duel continued, both fighters were limping, burned, bleeding—driven by rage or sheer willpower. Mira's magic pulsed again. She slammed her palms to the ground and a wave of fire erupted around her in a circular burst. Kael was thrown backward, skidding across the snow. The flames reached after him like claws, yet he rose, flames clinging to his shoulders.

"He should be dead… how is he still—?"

But Kael's voice rang out in defiance. A strange circle appeared beneath his feet—runic lines shimmering in dark red, etched into the ice. A hexagram.

"What's he doing now?" a soldier asked, uneased.

"Some special magic or skill…" Iris replied. "That's forbidden."

The first time Kael tried it, his foot slipped as he charged, the rune sparking and flickering. Mira took the chance and blasted him again, this time sending him flying into a tree trunk. Blood sprayed, and Kael crumpled—but only for a moment. Groaning, he pushed himself up once more.

The second attempt failed too—Kael's spell misfired and he slipped again, this time sliding across ice, narrowly avoiding a dagger swipe aimed at his throat.

But the third time…

The skill burned bright.

Mira, sprinting across tree limbs, suddenly misjudged a jump. Her boot slid on the frost-coated bark, and though she managed to leap again, the branch beneath her cracked. She crashed hard—face-first into a trunk with a sickening thud. The rebound hurled her back, and she rolled over the ice, blood smearing the snow beneath her.

The Ice Elves gasped as she tried to rise. A crimson trail dripped from her nose, her lip torn, her limbs trembling. And just as she raised her hand to cast again—

Kael descended on her like a shadow.

He roared, lifting his sword. Mira barely brought her dagger up in time. Their weapons clashed again, point-blank. Fire erupted from her palm, but Kael swung his blade through it—his coat catching fire, his body scorched, but he didn't falter.

Then, with an explosive cry, Kael twisted to the side and drove his sword toward her chest.

Iris sucked in cold air seeing Kael resolute strike.

Mira flinched—barely. The blade missed her heart by a finger's breadth and pierced through her shoulder. A horrifying crunch echoed.

Mira screamed.

The Ice Elves recoiled in shared pain.

"She… she survived it," one of them muttered.

Kael pushed in, trying to finish it, but Mira threw up another burst of flame and both were swallowed by an explosion.

Iris shielded her eyes from the firelight. A blast wave hit the ridge. When she looked again, Mira had crawled from the inferno, her face a mess of soot and blood, yanking the sword from her flesh with shaking hands.

And then—Kael rose too.

His skin was charred, but whole. His grin, eerie. And changing.

"His body… it's morphing—" a warrior gasped.

"What in the spirit gods is he?" someone whispered.

Iris said nothing.

She just watched. Frozen. Eyes wide. Because Kael, bloodied and burnt, had just defeated a ranked mage alone… and still wasn't done.

And Mira?

She was screaming now.

Terrified.

Something about Kael was wrong—something even more terrifying than what he had done.

And Iris knew, in that moment—

This fight wasn't just a battle.

It was a warning.

Kael's sword pierced through Mira's shoulder with brutal force, the steel grinding into bone. Her scream tore through the trees as blood sprayed across the snow. His grip tightened on the hilt, trying to twist and rip her arm apart. But Mira, gritting her teeth through the pain, grabbed his wrist with her free hand. Her fingers ignited with red light—dark, ancient symbols searing across her skin.

"You die with me..." she whispered, voice trembling and furious.

BOOOOM!!

A searing explosion burst from their clashing bodies. Fire erupted in all directions, swallowing snow and trees alike. The ground quaked, the air cracked, and a massive shockwave rolled through the forest, tossing ash and dust like a storm. The snow turned to steam, and black smoke billowed high into the sky.

From the heart of the blast, Mira flew out with a broken cry, hitting the ground and tumbling. She gasped, blood dripping from her lips. Her coat was nearly gone, her skin charred and scorched. A piece of Kael's blade had fused with her flesh. Trembling, she grabbed it with raw hands and ripped it free, screaming through clenched teeth before tossing the smoking steel aside.

"You should've run away, dumbass… fucking idiot…" she spat toward the flames, her voice hoarse and bitter.

Staggering on one leg, Mira limped away from the blast zone, her hand fumbling through her pouch for a healing potion. Her breath caught as her eyes landed on the center of the crater.

There—charred remains.

A body blackened beyond recognition. Arms twisted, skin peeled, flesh fused into the ground. A moment of disbelief froze her. "He's dead…" she whispered.

But then the lips on the burnt corpse twitched.

Slowly, they widened.

Into a grin.

A horrible grin.

Mira's heart stopped. A sickening sense of déjà vu washed over her. Her fingers gripped the potion bottle—but before she could drink it—

SWISH—CRACK!

BOOOM!!

An arrow screamed through the air and struck the potion dead on. It exploded in her hand, scattering glass and liquid. She screamed in pain as shards pierced her palm, stumbling backward and falling into the snow, clutching her bleeding hand.

"What the fuck?!"

Her eyes widened in terror as the corpse in the crater began to shift. The charred flesh peeled away, flaking like ash. Beneath it, smooth skin formed anew, bones cracking into place, hair regrowing strand by strand.

Kael stood up slowly.

His eyes locked on hers, burning with dark power.

"No… no no no no no—AHHHHHH!" Mira screamed, crawling back.

Kael's body was whole again. His expression blank… then smiling.

"What the fuck is going on?!"