"Isn’t this what you wanted?" they spat in unison, their dagger-like glares locked in a battle of wills, each seeking to pierce through the other’s resolve amidst the swirling destruction around them.

The air crackled with tension as Hestia and Leonardo faced each other on the charred remains of the palace courtyard. Flames danced around them, illuminating their fierce expressions. Hestia gripped her scythe, its blade glinting ominously in the flickering light. Leonardo, his red eyes gleaming with intensity, held his sword with unwavering confidence, black hair whipping in the scorching wind.

Without warning, Hestia lunged forward, her scythe sweeping low in a deadly arc. Leonardo sidestepped, the blade whistling just inches from him. He retaliated with a swift thrust, aiming for her heart, but Hestia spun gracefully, using the momentum to swing her scythe in a powerful counterattack. 

Their weapons clashed, the sharp ring of metal reverberating through the air. Hestia’s agility was breathtaking, her movements a fluid dance as she struck again and again, each swing of her scythe aimed to disarm. Leonardo, however, was relentless. He parried and blocked, his sword a shield against her assault, his focus never wavering.

As the battle raged, Hestia feinted to the left, drawing Leonardo in. In a split second, she twisted her scythe, aiming for his side. He barely evaded, the blade grazing his arm, but he seized the opportunity. With a swift pivot, he countered, his sword flashing like lightning as he aimed for her shoulder. Hestia barely raised her weapon in time to deflect it, the force sending a jolt through her own arms.

The ground beneath them was scorched, debris scattered around, and yet neither warrior showed signs of fatigue. Hestia’s blue eyes blazed with determination as she pressed the attack, but Leonardo’s red eyes shone with a fierce resolve, countering her every move. 

"I can’t believe you’re keeping up with my magic… Guess this is the true power of a dhampir, Your Imperial Majesty, His Highness Leonardo," Hestia sneered, her voice dripping with venom as she fought to match the oppressive aura radiating from him. Her words were sharp, a deliberate insult, and her audacity was both infuriating and fascinating. As an inferior species, she was expected to cower, yet here she stood, unyielding and defiant. That was Hestia—a calm storm, capable of delivering barbs wrapped in elegant disdain.

Leonardo's black wings flared with rage, tearing through the air and sending debris cascading down around them. Each beat was a furious statement, a reminder of his power as he skillfully blocked and evaded her relentless magic. Their weapons clanged together with a metallic symphony, each strike and parry echoing the gravity of their conflict, reflections of their battle shimmering like ghosts in the polished blades.

This was no ordinary fight; it was a war ignited by betrayal on the midnight of his Majesty's birthday. What was meant to be a peaceful private dinner had spiralled into chaos, the feast transformed into a blood-soaked arena. Leonardo and Hestia fought not just for their lives, but for their beliefs, their histories clashing under the stark moonlight.

Every thrust of Hestia’s magic was met with Leonardo’s calculated precision, and the air crackled with tension. The weight of their opposing motives hung heavily between them, a palpable force driving them deeper into this violent dance. Hestia, with her fiery red hair and fierce blue eyes, embodied chaos, while Leonardo, with his stark black hair and searing red gaze, stood as the embodiment of resolve and resilience. In the heart of the fray, they were two sides of the same coin, locked in a battle that could change the course of their worlds forever.

Finally, Hestia made a desperate move, launching herself into the air, scythe aimed downward like a reaper claiming its due. Leonardo anticipated the strike, and with impeccable timing, he sidestepped and swung his sword in a wide arc. Their weapons collided in a spectacular shower of sparks.

In that split second, Leonardo saw his opening. He twisted his body, using Hestia’s momentum against her. With a swift movement, he brought his sword down, disarming her, sending the scythe flying from her grasp. Before she could react, he closed the distance, pinning her arms to the ground with his blade poised at her throat.

“Yield,” he demanded, his voice low and steady, red eyes locking onto her fierce blue ones. 

Hestia's breath quickened, a mixture of fury and respect in her gaze. “Never,” she whispered defiantly, but the deadlock was clear. Yet Hestia did not want to forge peace with him.

"I can see your sombre facade breaking, the real madness seeping through the cracks of your mask," Leonardo sneered, his voice dripping with disdain. He had honed the skill of picking at her vulnerabilities, and he relished the opportunity. “You look haggard already. How about I offer you an eternal rest? Your death would be the only cure for your pain.”

“Better if it were me saying those lines, Your Imperial Majesty,” Hestia shot back, her blue eyes blazing with defiance. 

In a flash, Leonardo slid his leg in a swift, curvy motion, sending Hestia stumbling. She regained her balance just in time, but the surprise lingered—she was skilled in martial arts, a fact that intrigued him even amidst the chaos. Still, he needed to remind her who held the upper hand in this deadly dance.

Leonardo pressed forward, his sword flashing like lightning as he aimed for her midsection. Hestia barely sidestepped, the blade slicing through the air where she had just stood. She retaliated with a sweeping kick aimed at his legs, but he jumped back, evading her attack.

“Impressive,” he admitted, his breath steady despite the intensity of their exchange. “But you need to understand that you’re outmatched.”

With a fierce roar, Hestia unleashed a torrent of magic, swirling flames erupting from her hands. Leonardo’s black wings flared, forming a barrier that absorbed the heat. He charged through the flames, undeterred, closing the distance between them with each powerful stride.

Hestia grapsed her scythe, countering his attack with it, its blade gleaming as she swung it in a wide arc. Leonardo deflected the blow, the clash ringing out like a bell tolling in the night. He pivoted on his heel, aiming for her exposed side, but she spun away just in time, her agility surprising him once more.

“Is that all you’ve got?” she taunted, a smirk playing at the corners of her lips despite the sweat beading on her forehead. Time was running short for Hestia for she needed to recover from the blows that Leonardo inflicted on her.

Leonardo felt a rush of adrenaline. He would show her what he was capable of. “You have no idea what I can do,” he replied, determination hardening his features as he launched into a flurry of strikes, forcing her to focus all her energy on defence.

As their weapons clashed again, the world around them faded—their focus was solely on each other, locked in a deadly struggle where the stakes were life and death. However, one small deviation in her focus proved fatal. As Hestia’s heel slipped in the thick, red liquid pooling on the floor, her exhausted body lost its balance and stumbled, a momentary lapse that sealed her fate.

“Just die already!” Leonardo roared, unleashing his bloodlust in full force. With a swift, merciless motion, he drove his sword deep into her chest, feeling the resistance as it sank further into her already drenched body. The blade erupted from the opposite side, blood spilling as he twisted it, a cruel reminder of the lesson she had once taught him about seizing opportunity.

Hestia gasped, shock and betrayal flashing across her face, her fierce blue eyes dimming as life began to ebb away. She had underestimated him, and now he stood victorious, a tyrant emperor basking in the darkness he had mastered. In that moment, the battlefield fell silent, the echoes of their conflict fading into the shadows as she crumpled to the ground.

Hestia cried out, pain coursing through her body as her breaths grew shallow, each one more laboured than the last. Her vision blurred, tears mixing with the blood that soaked the ground beneath her. Every possibility, every plan she had to kill him, was slipping away—fading like smoke in the air. Her eyes widened, terror gripping her as the realisation of her defeat sank in. The fear of losing everything she had fought for clawed at her heart. 

Leonardo’s voice reached her, but his words were muffled, distant, drowned out by the pounding of her own heartbeat. The only thought consuming her now was survival. Desperation overtook her as she clung to the last threads of life, gripping onto the being she had never believed in. She prayed, pleading for a second chance—one where she could strike him down before he had the chance to kill her again.

Her prayers were frantic, tinged with a haunting desperation. It wasn’t just about victory anymore—it was about vengeance.

She craved revenge—vengeance against him, the descendant of the hexer who had destroyed her family and forced her into the treacherous world of imperial politics. Power was never her desire. She had only ever wanted peace, the warmth of familial love, a life untouched by the corruption and bloodshed that now surrounded her.

But that hope had been shattered long ago. Now, as her life ebbed away, all she could think about was retribution. She didn’t want a throne, or riches, or control over empires. She wanted justice—justice for the family she lost, for the innocence stolen from her. Leonardo, with his cold, tyrannical reign, had to pay. He was the living embodiment of everything she despised, the final link to the curse that had ruined her life.

Her heart burned with hatred even as it slowed. Every inch of her soul cried out for it—the revenge that had consumed her, the justice that had eluded her.

 Even if she couldn’t defeat him in life, she would haunt him in death, a relentless shadow that would ruin him, her desire for retribution burning brighter than the flames of her fading existence. 

Her last thought faded as she woke up, staring at a familiar ceiling.