[17th June]
The stadium had long crossed the line between excitement and obsession.
What began as a tournament… had turned into a battlefield where only monsters remained.
And now—
All eyes were locked onto the 22nd match of the second round.
Two names.
Two forces.
Two completely different paths to power.
And yet, only one would move forward.
The battlefield was no longer visible.
A raging storm of frost and shattered ice swallowed the arena whole, spiralling outward in a suffocating white haze.
At its center stood Marin.
Unmoving.
Untouched.
Untouchable.
Above her, a massive icicle hovered in the air, slowly rotating, its surface gleaming like a blade forged by winter itself.
Her eyes were closed.
But her awareness stretched across the entire storm.
Nothing inside that mist could escape her.
Nothing.
"Begone."
Her voice dropped—cold, absolute.
And the icicle fell.
It didn't just fall.
It pierced.
The air screamed as the massive construct shot forward, tearing through the storm with terrifying precision, locking onto its prey.
Inside—
Rey stood surrounded.
Ice shards tore across his body.
Mist clung to his skin, freezing over his clothes, slowing his breath, stiffening his limbs.
Every second inside this storm was a slow death.
And yet—
He didn't panic.
His mind was running faster than the storm itself.
Calculating.
Breaking apart every possibility.
Finding the one thread that could keep him alive.
[Abyssal Pulse Echo]
A pulse.
A silent expansion of awareness.
And suddenly—
He saw it.
Marin.
Standing outside the storm.
Unharmed.
And above her—
That icicle.
Condensed power.
A killing blow.
Rey's grip tightened.
"So that's your endgame…"
There was no space to dodge.
No room to run.
No chance to defend.
If that strike landed—
It was over.
So he chose something else.
He chose risk.
Instead of retreating deeper into the storm, Rey moved toward its heart—
A strangely calmer zone where the turbulence weakened slightly.
A flaw.
A single imperfection in an otherwise perfect technique.
And he bet everything on it.
Mana gathered.
Not too much.
Just enough.
Controlled.
Hidden.
A gamble layered over another gamble.
The icicle entered the storm.
And in that exact moment—
Rey moved.
He jumped.
Using the incoming icicle itself—
As a foothold.
For a fraction of a second, his body rose above the chaos—
And his arrow was already released.
It cut through everything.
Mist.
Ice.
Resistance.
Like none of it existed.
Outside—
Marin's eyes snapped open.
Too late.
The arrow struck.
Clean.
Brutal.
It tore into her abdomen and pierced through, exiting just enough to send a ripple of disbelief across the entire stadium.
A gasp erupted.
Sharp.
Unified.
Unavoidable.
Marin staggered back.
Her body folded as she dropped to one knee, breath hitching violently.
The storm—
Collapsed.
As the mist began to clear, reality returned to the arena piece by piece.
And what it revealed—
Silenced everyone.
At the center stood a towering spike of ice.
And atop it—
Rey.
Frozen in place.
His legs encased in ice up to the ankles.
His body covered in cuts, blood, and frost.
Clothes stiff.
Breathe heavy.
But still standing.
Still holding his bow.
For a second—
No one spoke.
Then—
Laughter broke out in scattered pockets of the crowd.
The image was absurd.
A warrior… victorious in strike—
Yet stuck like a statue.
Rey exhaled slowly.
"…Yeah. This is just perfect."
He tugged his leg.
Nothing.
Still stuck.
Across from him—
Marin moved.
Slowly.
Painfully.
Her hand gripped the arrow lodged in her body.
And then—
She pulled.
A sharp cry tore from her throat as blood spilt freely, staining the frozen ground beneath her.
Her teeth clenched.
Her vision blurred.
But she didn't fall.
Ice formed over the wound instantly.
Crude.
Imperfect.
But enough to stop the bleeding.
She stood.
Again.
Her eyes lifted.
And met his.
Disbelief.
Shock.
And something deeper.
Something far more dangerous.
"You…"
Her voice trembled—not from fear.
From anger.
From refusal.
Rey finally broke free from the ice, landing back onto the ground with a dull thud, fragments still clinging to his boots.
He glanced back once at the massive icicle behind him.
Then at her.
And sighed.
"First Aric…"
"…now you."
A tired smile tugged at his lips.
"Why do I always get the worst matchups?"
But his eyes sharpened again.
Because he already knew—
This wasn't over.
Not even close.
Marin's body was shaking now.
Not from weakness.
But from something spiralling out of control.
Her aura flickered violently.
Ice crept further along her skin.
Her breathing grew unstable.
And yet—
Her killing intent only grew stronger.
"Just… stop moving."
Her voice cracked through the air.
Colder than before.
Sharper.
Unstable.
Rey lifted his bow again.
Another arrow nocked.
Another breath steadying.
"Yeah…"
He stepped to the side, narrowly dodging a volley of jagged ice spikes that tore past his face.
"I don't think anyone sane would agree to that."
Arrows flew again.
Fast.
Relentless.
But this time—
They weren't just attacks.
They were pressured.
Constant.
Unforgiving.
Marin tried to freeze them—
But her control was slipping.
Her energy was draining.
Her body was failing to keep up.
Each arrow she stopped—
Cost her more.
Each second—
Pushed her closer to the edge.
Her vision flickered.
Her stance wavered.
Her breathing broke rhythm.
And for the first time—
The "Ice Death Beauty" looked…
Cornered.
From the stands—
Voices began to rise.
Some cheering.
Some shouting.
Some—
Mocking.
Words reached Rey's ears.
Fragments.
Sharp.
Provocative.
And something about them—
Made him pause.
Just for a moment.
Because those words—
Weren't directed at Marin.
They were about him.
And when he turned slightly—
Toward the source—
His expression changed.
Not shocked.
Not anger.
Something colder.
Far more dangerous.
The next arrow he raised—
Felt different.
And across the battlefield—
Marin saw it too.
Her instincts screamed.
Her body tensed.
Her blood ran colder than her own ice.
Because for the first time since the match began—
She felt it.
Not control.
Not superiority.
But—
Threat.
The noise from the stands, then again, twisted into something absurd.
Voices—loud, shameless, desperate.
Some of them weren't even cheering anymore.
They were shouting that they'd gladly take the arrow in her place… begging for her attention like fools who had forgotten where they were.
Rey exhaled, almost tired.
"...Unbelievable."
Even in the middle of a battlefield, people still found ways to lose their minds.
But Marin—
She wasn't listening to them.
Not anymore.
Her eyes shifted.
Past Rey.
Past the chaos.
Straight toward the public stands.
Two figures sat there.
Silent.
Watching.
Davin leaned forward slightly, his excitement barely contained, his eyes gleaming at the intensity of the fight.
Beside him—
Gravion.
Still.
Calm.
And yet—
Something about his expression had changed.
A faint crease.
A subtle disappointment.
Marin saw it.
And it hit harder than any wound.
A quiet breath escaped Gravion's lips.
Not loud.
Not dramatic.
But enough.
Because he had already seen it.
She hadn't followed his guidance.
She had abandoned control midway through the battle… letting her power run wild, ignoring the limits of her own body.
And now—
Her own strength was turning against her.
The frost creeping along her skin.
The instability in her aura.
The cracks forming beneath her control.
She was already walking toward defeat.
"No…"
Her fingers tightened.
Her body trembled.
But not from weakness.
From refusal.
Her gaze sharpened, locking back onto Rey.
A nameless opponent.
No noble lineage.
No grand presence.
No right—
To stand in her way.
"I can't lose here…"
Her voice dropped, low and strained.
"Not before I reach the top…
Not before I proved myself..."
Her breath grew uneven.
Her aura surged.
"I will not face defeat—!"
The air snapped.
Her power erupted.
Violent.
Unrestrained.
The ground beneath her froze instantly, spreading outward in a violent wave of ice that forced Rey to retreat, his boots scraping against the forming frost as he barely kept his footing.
The temperature dropped so fast that even the spectators felt it.
A suffocating chill.
A warning.
Rey's eyes narrowed.
This wasn't the same as before.
This—
Was dangerous.
And then—
She raised her hand.
Rey moved before anything even happened.
Instinct screamed.
His body reacted.
He leapt sideways—
Too late.
A beam of condensed frost tore through the air.
Not wide.
Not flashy.
But absolute.
Everything it touched—
Froze.
It grazed him.
Just slightly.
Just enough.
And that was all it needed.
His arm—
Locked.
His leg—
Encased.
Ice surged over his limbs, binding him to the ground like a prisoner sealed in his own grave.
Rey's breath hitched.
The cold wasn't just external.
It was inside.
He could feel it.
His blood slowing.
His muscles stiffening.
His nerves dulling.
"…Tch."
He pulled.
Nothing.
He twisted.
No response.
The ice didn't crack.
Didn't even shift.
And in front of him—
Marin raised her hand again.
This time—
No hesitation.
Icicles formed in the air.
Dozens.
Sharp.
Deadly.
All aimed at him.
Rey's gaze hardened.
There was no doubt now.
She wasn't trying to win anymore.
She was trying to kill him.
His bow was put away on his back.
No time.
No distance.
No advantage.
So he chose the only thing left.
He clenched his free fist—
And struck.
The ice rang like metal.
A dull, heavy sound echoed as cracks spread across its surface… but barely.
Again.
And again.
Each punch carried everything he had left.
Strength pushing to its limit.
Muscles screaming.
Blood freezing.
Still—
Not enough.
The cracks deepened.
But the ice held.
The arena fell into a tense silence.
Everyone felt it.
This wasn't a match anymore.
This was a moment balanced on a blade's edge.
Some remembered it.
That same feeling.
That same suffocating tension.
Rey vs Aric.
A battle that had already carved itself into memory.
And now—
This.
Equal.
If not worse.
Because she didn't care about the rules anymore.
Marin's hand dropped.
And the icicles fell.
All at once.
A rain of death.
They struck.
The impact erupted into a violent explosion, ice and mist swallowing the entire area once more, the ground trembling under the force.
Some spectators flinched.
Some turned away.
Some closed their eyes entirely.
Because no one wanted to see what came next.
But Marin—
She didn't stop.
More icicles formed.
More attacks followed.
Relentless.
Unforgiving.
She kept firing into the mist.
Again.
And again.
As if trying to erase him completely.
From existence itself.
Up in the stands, looking at this scene, even the high-ranking warriors had gone still.
Gareth's eyes narrowed.
Edvarin leaned forward unconsciously.
Something felt wrong.
Very wrong.
Because suddenly—
They couldn't feel him anymore.
Rey's presence—
Gone.
Not weakened.
Not suppressed.
Gone.
"...This is enough."
A voice rose from the stands.
Sharp.
Commanding.
The Host stood.
Eyes wide.
Expression shaken.
"Referee—stop the match right now!"
Confusion spread instantly.
People turned.
Murmurs erupted.
Why?
What happened?
But those who could sense it—
Those who understood—
Felt their hearts drop.
Because inside that mist—
There was nothing.
No movement.
No presence.
No Rey.
And everyone knew what that could mean.
Either—
Something had gone terribly wrong.
Or—
He was already gone.