Undoubtedly, the British soldiers stationed here were fighting on their home turf. They excelled in ice magic, and the frozen, snow-covered environment perfectly suited their abilities.
In contrast, the flames erupting from Firefly's body clearly indicated her expertise in fire-based combat. By all logic, the British should have held a decisive advantage.
Yet, Aaron McReynolds, the thinly dressed British general leading the hundred-plus soldiers, frowned deeply, gripped by an ominous premonition.
As the saying goes, "What you fear will come to pass." Crimson flames erupted from SAM's body, forming a fiery "X" on it's chest as the surrounding temperature soared.
Even the volley of ice spikes launched by the soldiers failed to reach their target. They melted completely ten meters from the Silver-White Mech, dissolving into puddles of water that evaporated into wisps of steam within seconds.
These magically conjured ice spikes were no ordinary ice. Their internal temperature plunged to at least -150 degrees Celsius, and their hardness far surpassed that of steel. The most terrifying aspect was that even a glancing blow at this temperature could cause severe frostbite, potentially requiring amputation.
This weapon was far more absurd than any bullet: impossibly fast, capable of locking onto targets, and virtually guaranteed death for ordinary humans. Even Evolvers with peak physical conditioning would rapidly lose combat effectiveness if struck, lucky to escape with only severe burns.
Yet this devastating attack couldn't even reach its enemies.
[DHGDR-Secondary Combustion!]
Monitoring the data displayed within SAM's helmet, Firefly activated Secondary Combustion, raising her internal temperature. Slowly lifting her left leg, she unleashed a torrent of flames from her knee joint. Propelled by the fiery blast, her foot slammed heavily onto the ground.
Boom!
An explosive roar erupted from her position. Then, defying the laws of nature, flames erupted outward from beneath her foot, scorching the icy surface and igniting a raging inferno.
In the blink of an eye, what had been a snow-covered wasteland transformed into a raging sea of fire. Every direction she looked, all she could see was boiling flames.
Aaron felt as if he'd stumbled into a raging inferno. Beads of sweat, each the size of a bean, dotted his forehead. He couldn't tell if it was from the oppressive heat or the sheer shock of the spectacle.
If he, lightly dressed, was sweating so profusely, the soldiers in their heavy gear must have been faring even worse. They were drenched in sweat, yet the fact that they could still stand steadily spoke volumes about their unwavering willpower.
Beneath this inferno, both the ice beneath their feet and the surrounding icebergs were melting at a visible rate.
"Holy shit, what's going on?!" The reporter, who had been urging the sailors to break through the ice and advance toward the battlefield, suddenly found himself engulfed in flames.
Now there was no need to break through the ice, but he couldn't move forward either. The sea before him was ablaze.
"No way..." The reporter's lips trembled slightly as he struggled to believe what he was seeing. He even wondered if he was trapped in some kind of hallucination.
How could fire possibly burn on ice?
But the scorching heat radiating from all directions and the stifling air left no room for doubt. This was real. "My God..."
The perspective shifts back to Firefly. Although the soldiers had struck first, she had no intention of killing them. Had she unleashed her full power with that kick, everyone present would have been instantly reduced to ashes.
Instead, she had simply done exactly what she said: literally ignited the glacier. Nothing more.
With a series of distinct splashes, several soldiers plunged through the melting ice beneath their feet. The remaining ice, now dangerously thin, caused their footing to become precarious.
Even without a direct attack, Firefly had effectively incapacitated the soldiers by subtly manipulating the environment.
Aaron understood this perfectly well. With no time to worry about his men, he suppressed his shock. Though the enemy's strength exceeded his expectations, he refused to surrender without a fight.
In the next instant, Aaron charged toward Firefly. The melting ice was no obstacle; with each step, new ice formed beneath his feet. Just as Firefly radiated heat in her Secondary Combustion State, Aaron emanated waves of intense cold.
The key difference was that the intense heat radiating from Firefly's Secondary Combustion State was a passive byproduct of the engine's increased power, dissipating automatically. Aaron, however, was actively expending his own Magic Power to generate a barrier of freezing air, shielding himself from the heat and preventing burns.
As he charged forward, Aaron retrieved two sword hilts from his person. With the press of a button, silver-white blades shot forth from within. Intricate magic runes covered every inch of the weapons, proclaiming their extraordinary nature.
Closing within five meters of Firefly, Aaron harnessed the momentum of his charge. His right-hand sword struck forward with meteoric speed, a silver streak flashing through the air. The radiant blade, like a grim reaper's scythe, aimed straight for Firefly's neck.
The strike was swift and brutal, but under SAM's scanning and Firefly's exceptional dynamic vision, it appeared almost slow and clear. She raised her right hand, using her wrist as a shield, and precisely deflected the thrust.
Before she could react further, Aaron's second strike arrived. His left-hand blade swept in an elegant arc, aiming for her right wrist joint with a wickedly angled thrust.
Firefly hesitated for a moment, then raised her left hand to block Aaron's inevitable path.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
The metallic clash of weapons erupted like a rhythmic symphony, resonating across the battlefield.
Aaron's attacks surged relentlessly, each strike followed by another in rapid succession. Even when Firefly managed to parry the initial onslaught, Aaron would instantly switch tactics and launch new strikes. It was then that Firefly realized something crucial: the gap in their combat experience was vast. Her perfect parries weren't due to skill, but because she could perceive Aaron's movements in slow motion, granting her ample time to react.
Then, in an instant, Firefly's train of thought took an abrupt turn. Why am I even defending? she wondered.
A normal person, confronted by an opponent charging aggressively, would instinctively evade and defend. But this very instinct betrayed her lack of practical combat experience.