The descent ended in silence, not the peaceful kind, but a heavy one that pressed on Eron's chest.
Cold air hit his face as he stepped off the stairwell, each breath turned to fog that hung heavy in the air, almost freezing before it faded.
Frost coated the walls and floor, layering everything with a glass-like sheen, even the sound of his boots seemed trapped under the ice.
His Hovering Blaze flickered weakly, its flame shrinking in the chill.
"So cold," he muttered, rubbing his arms. His shoulders trembled, teeth clenching as the chill sank through his clothes.
He tried to summon another spark, but the fire came out dull and sluggish, as if the cold was feeding on it, draining the heat before it could grow.
The air shifted.
Then he felt them, several presences nearby, silent and watching, they were moving closer, slow but deliberate, closing the distance with every breath.
Shapes emerged from the fog.
Five tall figures in smooth white-blue armor reflected the faint light, pale frost coating their swords, symbols glowing across the blades.
Their movements were synchronized, boots striking the floor in perfect rhythm, each step sent mist spreading across the ground, cold air trailing as they closed in on him, helmets were empty, faceless and hollow, with a faint blue light flickering inside.
Eron's pulse quickened, and his hand trembled slightly as he raised it.
"Fireball Number Two, Piercer."
A burst of orange fire shot forward and hit the nearest knight in the chest, the impact flared bright, the armor turning red-hot as steam hissed off its surface for a moment.
Then frost crawled back across the armor, swallowing the fire and sealing it under a thin layer of ice.
The knight didn't even flinch.
"What...?" He stared at the frozen knight, disbelief creeping into his voice. "Seriously? This is the first time my fireball didn't even hurt a monster."
Two more knights split off, flanking him. He didn't even have time to think as the others advanced.
"Fireball Number Four, Split Bloom."
Three bursts of flame hit their marks. The armor cracked, but frost closed the damage almost instantly.
A sword swung for his arm. He dodged, but the blade grazed him, pain flashed, then faded into numbness. Frost spread from the cut, turning his sleeve white and stiff.
He stumbled backward, clutching his arm.
"Fireball Number Three, Scatterburst."
Flames rained in a wide arc. The knights slowed but didn't stop, their steps stayed firm.
One closed the distance, Its sword came down fast.
Eron raised the Hovering Blaze to take the hit, but the impact still threw him backward, he slammed into the wall, pain bursting through his chest as he coughed, blood staining the ice.
"Damn, that hurts!" he shouted, his voice echoing through the frozen hall as he glared at the knights.
The five knights stood still in formation as the cold deepened. Frost spread faster across the floor, chasing his feet.
Eron forced himself up, gasping for air, his fire wasn't working, the heat vanished the moment it hit.
He turned and ran. "This wasn't cowardice; sometimes running was just strategy, live now, burn them later."
His boots slid on the ice, breath ragged as frost crept at the edges of his vision, the knights didn't chase, they only watched him go, patient like statues.
Minutes later, he found a narrow tunnel and pushed through, leaving streaks of blood behind.
Every breath came ragged and uneven, each step heavier as the corridor twisted until it opened into a small hollow.
Blue-green moss glowed faintly on the walls, and a spring bubbled quietly at the center. The air was still cold, but not as chilling.
Eron collapsed beside the spring, shaking and tired, his arm throbbing. He tore his sleeve and wrapped the wound tight while his teeth clenched.
His pack was still with him, inside were a few dirty clothes and a dented kettle. He lowered the Hovering Blaze, controlling its height until it hovered just above the ground, then cooked the lizard meat slowly, the smell filling the alcove.
Silence filled the alcove as he ate, eyes fixed on the fire.
It was warm, but it felt useless.
"Fire doesn't work here," he whispered. "Then maybe it doesn't have to burn."
Eron sat cross-legged on the cold floor. A small flame hovered over his palm.
He tried to compress the heat, to tighten it until it became something else.
The flame fought back, flickering before collapsing inward.
Pain stabbed through his chest, not in the ribs but somewhere deeper. Mana jolted out of rhythm, as if something within had been pierced.
Gasping, he fell forward, barely conscious, but didn't stop.
Steadying his breath, Eron raised a hand once more. The next flame wavered, shifting between red and blue as he imagined cold, not heat.
The orb turned pale for an instant, then shattered.
Frost burst across his arm, climbing to his shoulder.
He screamed and dropped to one knee, clutching his arm as the chill sank deeper. "Fvck, so cold!" he shouted, gripping his frozen hand.
Frost crawled toward his fingers, biting deep. He pulled the Hovering Blaze close and pressed his hand near the flame, steam rising as the ice hissed and melted. The skin reddened, blistering under the sudden heat.
He stared at his shaking hand.
"Come on, think. You can't just burn your way out of this. There has to be balance."
Eron stayed still for a long moment, thinking what to do.
"Why does it always have to hurt?" he whispered. "Every time I try to move forward, it asks for more."
With eyes closed, he forced the shaking to stop.
"One more try."
When he opened his eyes again, the moss still gave off a faint glow. His body throbbed with pain, but his breathing had steadied.
Raising his palm, he gathered his focus.
This time he didn't force the flame. He let it form naturally, calm and controlled, then twisted its nature.
Heat became cold, fire became pale.
The orb turned blue, frost spreading across the stone as the air dropped several degrees.
Eron stared at the fireball as his breath turned to mist.
"It worked," he whispered, breath unsteady. "I created a new fireball that didn't burn." A tired grin tugged at his lips; exhausted, but satisfied.
The frost reached his fingertips again. He drew the Hovering Blaze close, letting its warmth hold the cold in place without destroying it.
"Great," he said. "You're part of my fireball variant now."
The Ice Flame flickered once, then faded.
He lay flat on the cold floor, breath weak and uneven, staring at the ceiling. "This is tiring and painful," he whispered.
Forcing himself upright, he sat up slowly and reached for his kettle, water from the spring filled it, and he boiled it over the Hovering Blaze, a few sips brought slight warmth, though his limbs were still freezing.
The Hovering Blaze floated near, dim but warm enough to remind him he wasn't alone.
Hours passed.
He cleaned his wounds and stared at the reflection of the small flame in the water.
"This new fire," he said softly, "it's hurting me from the inside."
The pain pierced deep into his soul, yet he had to see what it could do. Stopping now wasn't an option.
He would keep moving, no matter what.
When the tremor in his hands eased, he stood slowly, his legs were weak but steady. He checked his bag, fixed the strap, and looked toward the icy tunnel.
"Time for revenge."
At the far end, the knights stood in formation, swords raised, as the air shimmered with cold.
Eron moved ahead, his footsteps echoing on the frozen floor. The Hovering Blaze trailed close behind, its light dim and unsteady, while faint orange sparks formed in his palm.
"Fireball Number Two, Piercer."
Blast hit the front knight. The flame vanished, eaten by frost.
"Fireball Number Four, Split Bloom."
Three bursts struck the group, armor cracked and healed again, the knights kept advancing.
Eron's breath slowed, his focus narrowed to the light at his palm.
"Fireball Number Twenty-One, Ice Flame."
A blue sphere took shape in his hand as he drew his arm back and hurled it forward with force. The orb drifted at first before slicing through the mist and slamming into the chest of the lead knight.
Sound tore through the hall, sharp and distorted, frost bloomed across the knight's armor, turning it pale white as cracks spread in jagged lines.
The figure twitched as if struck from within, and a faint, chilling scream escaped from the hollow helm before the body shattered, fragments dropping across the floor.
The remaining knights stopped. Their formation broke.
Eron dropped to one knee, clutching his chest as pain pierced deep inside, his vision blurred, and he forced himself to breathe.
The second knight advanced.
Teeth gritted, he raised his hand again. "Number Twenty-One, Ice Flame."
The orb formed slower this time, dragging at his core. He could feel something tearing inside.
He threw it.
It struck the second knight, the same chilling sound echoed through the corridor, the armor crystallized and shattered, pieces fell like broken glass.
Two down, three left. He exhaled deeply, wishing he could rest, even for a moment.
Swaying on his feet, barely standing, left arm numb, and chest felt hollow.
The third knight froze for a moment before turning to flee, and their footsteps faded into the mist as the others followed.
Eron collapsed forward on his hands and knees. His Hovering Blaze dimmed, its light flickering.
He had won.
With one hand on the wall, he staggered back toward the hollow.
When he reached the spring, he dropped beside it, too tired to care about the cold water soaking through his clothes.
The Hovering Blaze hovered low, its flame small but steady.
"Ice Flame," he murmured. "It hurts, but it works."
He felt the damage inside, frost burning through his veins, each heartbeat hurt, but it was bearable.
Water ran over his wounds as he cleaned the blood from his hands.
Faint glow from the moss lit the cavern in pale green.
The memory of the knights came back, armor shattering under blue fire, terrifying, but it gave him a weapon no one else had.
He lay back on the stone, staring at the faint light above. His body hurt, but his mind was clear.
"I'll control it," he whispered. "Even if it kills me."
Hovering Blaze floated closer, circling above his face, its light steady and warm.
Eron closed his eyes, cold hummed around him, somewhere in the distance, the ice groaned.
He breathed once more.
"Death can wait."
Then he slept.