The long hallway of Kreivel's estate stretched endlessly, its marble floor polished to a mirror sheen that reflected the sharp geometry of towering glass panes along the right side. Sunlight bled through them in silver ribbons, spilling across the walls and catching on the gilded frames of oil portraits that stared hollowly at the duel about to begin. The silence was suffocating—no sound but the faint creak of ancient wood and the distant drip of water somewhere deeper in the manor.
Neither moved.
The Princess stood with her blue hair casting faint glimmers under the fractured light, her hands loose at her sides, gaze fixed on the man across her. Lord Kreivel towered in composed arrogance, his noble robe swaying faintly as if stirred by unseen currents. The weight in the air pressed between them, heavy enough to choke.
It was Kreivel who broke it.
With a flick of his wrist, water gathered in his palm from the very air, twisting instantly into a needle-thin arrow. The projectile shot forward at a speed too sharp for the eye to follow, slicing the air with a hiss—
It stopped a breath before piercing Reiyell's eye. The arrow shattered into mist.
She had not blinked. A faint shimmer clung to her lashes—the smallest barrier, barely visible, dissipating into cold air.
Kreivel smirked. "Fast."
Then the hall exploded into violence.
He swept his arm wide, and the entire corridor darkened as the atmosphere itself bent to his command. The moisture in the air thickened, coalescing into torrents—streams that writhed like serpents, a tide rising impossibly high inside the confined space. Walls groaned as a flood swelled, rolling forward in a wall that could crush stone. Droplets turned to blades, slicing downward like a rain of glass.
Reiyell lifted her hand and breathed. The flood touched her reach—and froze. The surge halted mid-crash, suspended in glittering crystalline arcs, before collapsing into a field of frozen shards that rained harmlessly to the marble.
Their eyes met again.
Kreivel's lips curved into something colder than amusement. "Your Highness… you royals are granted deific advantages from birth. More refined, more dangerous than common men could dream." His voice echoed against the glass and ice. "But against someone older, wiser—four years your senior—" his gaze sharpened into malice, "—do you truly believe you stand a chance?"
Reiyell didn't answer. She turned her head slightly, gaze drifting to the moonlight pouring through the tall glass as if he weren't worth her time.
The nerve of it twitched his brow. "You youngers…" his voice ground with disdain, "always so arrogant."
Water convulsed around him, forming orbs sharp as lances, hovering like a halo of death. At his gesture, they surged with terrifying speed, stabbing toward her from every angle—
But before they touched, they froze solid, fragile, and shattered like brittle glass on marble.
Reiyell exhaled, faint mist escaping her lips.
Kreivel snarled and clapped his hands together. The air drowned.
From nothing, a sphere of water expanded outward, enveloping Reiyell like a coffin. But it was no ordinary drowning—its weight pressed not just on her chest but her very essence, an invisible flood clawing to her soul.
Kreivel grinned, teeth flashing in cruel triumph. "Suffocate."
Her body stiffened—but the next instant, the surface of the sphere crystallized in pale-blue veins. She moved her arm sharply, and ice surged across her skin, weaving into a seamless armor. Glacial sheen coated her form, each movement sharp and alive, the crushing water peeling off her body as though repelled.
Kreivel froze mid-laugh. His smirk collapsed into fury. His teeth ground so hard they nearly cracked as veins bulged in his temple.
Reiyell's eyes glimmered, mocking silently: Is that it?
He snapped his arm upward, fingers clawed toward the ceiling.
The hallway trembled. Portraits toppled from their frames, the roof splitting as though heaven itself was tearing. Sunlight slashed through the gaps, and with it came the roar of something ancient and monstrous.
The beast manifested—a leviathan born of pure abyssal water, its maw wider than the corridor itself, fangs of liquid pressure snapping, each breath a tidal storm. Its eyes burned black, its body scraping the cracked ceiling as it descended with apocalyptic weight.
The entire estate shook under its presence.
Reiyell narrowed her gaze and raised her hand. Ice spun around her fingertips and multiplied in blinding succession. Suddenly, mirrors of frost materialized in the air—hundreds, thousands—each reflecting Kreivel's beast and his attacks, each reflection carrying them back, amplified and fractured into endless retribution.
The leviathan roared, its own flood redirected back upon it, drowning itself in a spiral of recursive destruction.
But Reiyell was not finished.
Her palms spread wide, and the sky above answered. Shadows bent beneath a new light as the temperature plunged. Far above the fractured roof, the heavens themselves groaned—and down came a glacier, its titanic bulk descending like a falling continent. The entire corridor lit in a deathly blue glow, air freezing so sharply the glass panes cracked in unison.
Kreivel's eyes widened as the sheer weight of her call pressed against his magic.
The leviathan lunged to swallow her, maw widening to the void—
The glacier fell.
Water and ice collided in an earth-shaking roar. Fragments of frost tore through the air like shrapnel, embedding deep into walls. The hallway became a battleground of flood and freeze, crushing tides against eternal frost, each surge threatening to break the estate itself.
And in the heart of it—stood the Princess, wrapped in glacial armor, her breath steady, her eyes unflinching.
Kreivel screamed against the roar, raising every last drop of water he could command, but the weight of her power pressed mercilessly, suffocating his control.
The corridor was no longer Kreivel's estate—it was their battlefield, water and ice waging war loud enough to be heard across the grounds.
The air in the long hallway cracked with unseen pressure. Sunlight streamed through the tall glass windows lining the right wall, spilling over shattered bits of ice and water rippling across the marble floor. Neither Reiyell nor Kreivel moved at first—two predators circling within silence.
Then Kreivel's grin widened. He raised a palm, and the atmosphere thickened. The moisture in the air shifted, drawn to his command.
Blood Tide.
Reiyell stiffened as it struck her—an invisible grip squeezing inside her veins, slowing her heartbeat, tightening around her lungs. Her knees nearly buckled under the unnatural weight as Kreivel laughed low, dark and triumphant.
"Even a royal cannot resist this…" he sneered. "I control the water inside you. Your blood is mine."
Her chest heaved as the pressure thickened. Her breath came shallow, her fingers trembling at her side. Kreivel tilted his head, savoring the sight of her struggle.
But then—something shifted.
The suffocating grip loosened.
His grin faltered. He blinked, his lips parting. "Y-you…" The sound wavered in his throat, fear crackling into his voice. His eyes widened, pupils shrinking as he staggered back a half-step.
"You can also… control water?"
Reiyell's gaze was calm, cutting. The faintest vapor misted from her lips as she inhaled, gathering the latent energy in the air. She raised her hand, the faint glow of frost curling around her fingertips, and Kreivel suddenly felt the tables turn.
The water he commanded no longer obeyed him—it bent to her.
In the next heartbeat, her magic surged.
Water from shattered conduits, from broken droplets hanging in the air, from the blood Kreivel thought was his to command—all answered her. It swirled in a merciless current before freezing in an instant, sharp shards of frost spiraling into a vortex.
Tidal Dominion.
A wall of ice and water crashed down upon him, waves folding like jaws of a frozen sea. He staggered back, forcing barriers of liquid to protect himself, but every defense shattered into fragments as her magic tore through. His breath grew shallow, panic clawing at his chest.
And then—silence.
A chill unlike any he had ever known sank into the marrow of his bones. The very air crystallized, the world itself slowing into stillness.
Absolute Zero.
Kreivel's eyes widened in horror as his veins locked, his magic stilled, and even the Leviathan he had summoned above dissolved into frozen shards. The estate shook, the windows bursting under the sheer temperature drop. Sunlight fractured against spreading walls of ice, painting the hallway in eerie, shimmering light.
When the radiance cleared, Kreivel stood mid-motion—frozen solid. His body trapped in perfect crystalline detail, mouth open as if forever locked in disbelief.
Reiyell exhaled, her breath visible, fogging against the frozen air. Her shoulders trembled faintly, exhaustion settling into her from the immense power she had unleashed. She closed her eyes, grounding herself against the ringing silence.
She let her gaze linger on the frozen figure, her voice steady but quiet, carrying no malice—only truth.
"You were strong," she murmured, almost as if in acknowledgment. "But you were faced against me."
The silence after her words was heavy, broken only by the faint crackle of frost spreading along the walls.
And then—
A roar split through the distance. So loud, so raw, that it shook even the frozen walls of the Kreivel estate. Her eyes snapped open, turning toward the direction of the Forsaken Forest.
Her pulse quickened, not from Kreivel, but from the monstrous truth that voice carried.
————
[Liora]
The descent into the cave was suffocating.
The walls were damp, slick with condensation, the ceiling jagged like a maw of stone ready to close in. Droplets of water plinked steadily into shallow puddles, echoing against the cavern's stillness. The air was sharp with minerals, the kind of cold scent that lingered in the lungs. But as Liora pressed deeper, torchlight from her blade casting pale illumination, the path widened.
And then—she stepped into a vast chamber.
Her breath hitched.
The hollow belly of the mountain had been carved into what looked like a grotesque laboratory. Strange vats glowed with viscous, green-black liquid, each one bubbling with unnatural fumes. Crates of glass vials lined the far wall, and scrawled alchemical diagrams were plastered on sheets of parchment. The stench was nauseating, a sickly chemical burn that clawed at her nostrils. Liora furrowed her eyebrows, resisting the urge to cover her nose.
"So this is where they make it…" she muttered, disgust flickering in her tone. Tres—the drug that had been poisoning cities. She tightened her grip on her long, thin sword.
But the moment of clarity was cut short.
A whistling sound tore through the chamber. Liora's instincts screamed, and she leaned aside just as a crystalline spear shattered into the rock behind her, exploding in shards that hissed across her cheek.
Her head snapped forward, and her eyes locked on the figure approaching from the shadows.
Vyra Tynari stepped into view. His frame was slender, almost delicate, his long hair flowing like a pale river of silk. His features were soft, unnervingly beautiful—too beautiful—and his eyes were open, sharp and calculating. Yet in his hands gleamed brass knuckles, each embedded with shards of gemstone that caught the dim light.
"You shouldn't have come here," Vyra said softly, his voice smooth as polished stone. He raised a palm, and jagged spikes of crystal bloomed from the ground around him like a forest of blades. "Now, you'll never leave."
Liora slid into stance, sword angled low, her breath steady. "Try me."
The fight erupted.
Vyra lunged first, the earth shuddering as crystal spears shot upward in a fan. Liora blurred into motion, her body a streak of speed as she surged forward. The blades of stone missed by a hair, shards trailing against her uniform. In the same breath, she pivoted and swung, her sword slicing the air. A compressed wind-edge rode the arc, crashing against Vyra's newly risen crystalline wall. It cracked, splinters flying, but the barrier held.
Vyra smirked. "Sharp. But not sharp enough."
He twisted his wrist and shards exploded outward. Liora whipped her blade in a circle, the air screaming as a vortex formed around her, redirecting the deadly shards so they spiraled harmlessly into the walls. She dashed forward in the same momentum, her sword tip thrusting for his ribs.
At the last instant, Vyra's brass-knuckled fist slammed down. A crystal block surged from the floor, deflecting the strike with a ringing clang. He spun, his other hand encased in jagged gemstone, and swung for her head.
Liora bent low, the strike cutting a few strands of her hair. She retaliated with a lightning stab to his abdomen. Vyra slid back, stone blooming beneath his boots to carry him out of range.
For a moment, they circled—the wind hissing around her, crystals groaning beneath him. Two forces, air and earth, opposites yet matched.
"You move well," Vyra said, tone almost admiring. "But endurance will mean nothing when your body is crushed."
He thrust his hand forward. The ground split open, jagged spires of quartz rising like a cage around her. The crystalline prison narrowed with each heartbeat.
Liora inhaled, closing her eyes. Then her form blurred. In an instant she burst upward, using a gust beneath her feet to rocket into the air. The stone cage snapped shut—empty.
From above, she dived, sword glowing with compressed air. She struck down in a vertical slash. Vyra blocked with crossed crystal-armored fists, but the wind compressed so tightly it shrieked, sending a gale through the chamber and carving a trench into the ground behind him.
Their eyes met in the aftermath—Liora's sharp, Vyra's glinting with something dangerous.
"…Are you," Liora panted, narrowing her eyes as she adjusted her grip on the hilt, "a guy or a girl?"
Vyra blinked. "What—?"
"I mean—your face says girl. But those arms—" She pointed with her blade toward his crystalline-covered fists. "That's definitely not girly strength."
Vyra's lips twitched, his composure fracturing. "Does it matter?"
"Of course it does!" Liora shot back, dead serious, though her cheeks flushed slightly from her own bluntness.
His expression soured. "Tch. Humans and their obsessions…"
And then he attacked again, almost as if to bury the conversation in stone.
His crystals shattered into hundreds of glittering fragments, then re-formed midair into a barrage of razor-sharp daggers. They whistled toward her like a storm.
Liora sprinted through them, body weaving with bursts of acceleration, her blade flashing in arcs that severed the projectiles. Sparks of stone and gusts of air collided around her. She leapt, spun, and drove her sword into the ground—sending a shock of wind blasting outward in a circle. The pressure wave shattered half the daggers at once.
But Vyra was already in front of her. His brass knuckle, encased in jagged ruby stone, punched for her temple. Liora tilted her head barely in time, the blow grazing her cheek. Her sword lashed up, scraping his shoulder, but crystal instantly layered over the wound, sealing it like armor.
The clash escalated.
Liora moved like a tempest—slashes laced with cutting air, steps enhanced by bursts of speed. Vyra countered with merciless precision, every strike of his gemstone-clad fists backed by the grinding strength of earth. Crystal spikes erupted from the ground in response to her movements, while walls bloomed to block her advances.
The cave shook with the violence. Glass vials shattered from the vibrations. Dust rained from the ceiling.
Finally, they locked mid-strike. Liora's sword pressed against Vyra's crystalline arm, her body straining with effort. His brass-knuckled fist was an inch from her face, trembling as wind currents held it back. Their breaths mingled in the close space, sweat dripping, eyes locked with unspoken defiance.
"You…" Vyra hissed through gritted teeth. "You fight like you were born for this."
Liora smirked, her hair whipping in the storm of her own wind. "And you fight like you're overcompensating."
She twisted, breaking the deadlock. Her sword carved a narrow gust upward, forcing him back.
But even as she caught her breath, Vyra's lips curled into a grin. His eyes glowed faintly. Around him, crystal pillars rose in a circle, their points aimed inward—at her.
Liora tightened her grip, her heartbeat steadying. This fight wasn't over.
It was just beginning.