Chaos Warlord: Reincarnated in Eldrich with the Devil System!

Feeling humiliated, Seraphim's face turned as red as a steamed crab. However, despite the waves of laughter crashing around him, his pride wasn't about to go under.

"I'll teach you a lesson during our duel, Whitemore." He sneered at Val, his voice full of ire.

As the head of the Whitemores, Joshua swiftly stepped in to set things straight. "A duel of honor allows for terms to be set," he noted, turning towards the Queen's guard. "As is tradition, it would be best if these terms were set before the battle commences."

Nodding at his words, the Queen's guard turned to the challenger and the challenged, "Gentlemen, what are your terms?"

Seraphim, still seething, was the first to respond. "If you lose, Whitemore, you will allow Lady Adelina to break this engagement gracefully."

Val, unfazed by Seraphim's demand, came up with his own terms. "And if I win, Seraphim, I want you to cease interfering in our matters. Also, the Kendricks will have to abide by our wishes in this matter, with no questions asked."

The Queen's guard then turned to Lord Kendrick and Lady Adelina, "Are you in agreement with these terms?"

Lord Kendrick and Adelina, after a moment of contemplation, nodded in approval. "We agree to these terms."

The Kendricks had agreed to the duel's terms with a certain sense of complacency. They firmly believed that Val, who was to their knowledge just a normie, stood no chance against Seraphim. After all, Seraphim was a level 1 bloodline user, endowed with the illustrious bloodline of the Stoud family. This lineage came into existence when the Strouds battled and defeated Agni, the Lord Of The Fire Devils, using his body parts to establish their own bloodline.

How could a mere normie ever hope to rival such a potent force? This duel, they believed, was already won.

The announcement of the upcoming duel spread like wildfire.

Whitemore family members and the entourage of the Kendricks were quickly drawn to the training grounds, where the duel of honor between Val and Stroud would be held.

"I heard Master Val and an inlander hailing from the Stroud family are going head to head. Is that true?" asked one bystander.

"Indeed, it is," replied a Kendrick. "Strouds wield the formidable bloodline of Agni, bestowing them with powerful and deadly fire skills. As easy as breathing, they can summon flame! The origin of the Whitemore bloodline is shrouded in mystery but it's said to grant strength augmenting skills. It's nothing special compared to the Stroud's that lets you wield the forces of the elements. Poor Master Val... He's like a lamb to the slaughter."

Shocked gasps punctuated his revelation.

Every onlooker that wasn't from the Whitemore family thought that Val was done for.

The Whitemore triplets, Gabriel, Lucius, and Cyrus, however, wore smug smiles.

"Seraphim is going to get wrecked," Gabriel smirked confidently.

"Isn't he?" Lucius chimed in with a grin.

Lastly, Cyrus nodded in agreement, "He definitely is."

A man who was earlier singing praises for Seraphim and undermining Val, turned towards the triplets, incredulous at their audacity. It was the Queen's guard. He wasn't related to Seraphim by any means but he had seen the kid in action a few times so he knew that someone with Whitemore Bloodline wouldn't be in his match, not in a million years!

The triplets' blithe dismissal of Seraphim's prowess drew a skeptical retort from a Queen's guard, "You lot are out of your minds. A normie doesn't stand a chance against a fire mage."

"He isn't a normie," blurted out the youngest triplet, earning him a sharp smack from his brothers. "You can't just spill our secrets to outsiders!"

"Oops, my bad!" he quickly apologized, covering his mouth with his hands.

The Queen's guard was surprised by the unexpected confession. He now believed that Val had awakened his "Whitemore" bloodline and was thus a warrior, but even then, he believed that Val would lose miserably, that he wouldn't be able to put up a fight against Seraphim Stroud.

"Even with the power of the Whitemore bloodline, he is no match for Seraphim Stroud. I mean, what can a warrior even do against a fire mage? History tells us that low-level warriors have never won against fire mages because fire mages turn them to ashes before they can even get close to them. I am an experienced guy. I don't see him winning in any scenario."

At this, the triplets shared a knowing glance and chuckled, making the guard frown in confusion.

"How can a fire mage win if he can't land a hit?" Gabriel retorted.

"And how can a warrior lose if he can dodge all attacks?" added Lucius.

"What do you mean?" The guard was puzzled.

"Just watch the duel, you'll understand," the eldest triplet advised, leaving the guard in curious anticipation.

The training ground became a stage, and the opponents took their places. Seraphim's gaze was ablaze with hostility as he stood across from Val.

"I'll reduce you to nothing but ashes," Seraphim sneered.

His hands, held forward in a striking pose, lit up suddenly. The very air around him seemed to shift, heat waves rippling outwards as a captivating dance of fire started around his fingers. Threads of flickering flames danced, twirled, and twined, weaving a tantalizing spectacle of deadly beauty.

As the fiery ballet continued, they merged, coalescing into a radiant, fiery red sphere that pulsated with raw, destructive energy, instantly increasing the surrounding temperature by several degrees.

This incandescent fireball, seething and crackling, was held captive within Seraphim's deft grip. Its restless flames licked the air eagerly, anticipating the release, yearning for the destruction it was destined to cause. In a fluid movement, Seraphim swung his arm, and the fireball was launched forward, becoming a blazing projectile of wrath, a comet of death that cut through the air and hurtled towards its target - Val.

Val stood at the receiving end of this devastating attack, unmoving and calm. His face, bathed in the glow of the incoming fireball, remained a picture of tranquility. It was as though he was a statue, an enigmatic figure untouched by the threat of imminent incineration.

No one could tell what he was thinking. No one could understand why he was so calm in the face of death. Joshua, as well, failed to see through him.

Only Val knew that this attack was so pathetic that he could dodge it while yawning.