A single sentence — like a spark igniting the flames of a brutal war.
Two souls, two auras — one like the abyss, the other a raging inferno — stepped into a battlefield meant only for the mighty.
"Flame Destruction Blade!"
No longer the composed figure from earlier, Julius was the first to strike.
From the blazing blade in his hand, a fire dragon roared forth — ferocious and catastrophic, ten thousand times more devastating than his previous attack.
He knew.
He knew exactly who he was up against —
Irina Heather, the living legend who once made an entire kingdom tremble.
And so he unleashed his full strength from the very first blow.
The fire dragon tore through the wind, its might enough to reduce mountains to ash—
But before it could reach her, Irina's figure vanished into nothingness, completely evading the attack.
A sudden silence fell—
An eerie, suffocating calm.
Julius's eyes narrowed, a flicker of unease passing through them.
His instincts blared like sirens.
Then—
"Dark Sever."
A voice cold as the dead of winter rang out.
And in the very next instant—
From all directions, hundreds of dark, blade-shaped energies surged in.
They descended upon him with overwhelming force.
It was a surprise attack.
Unlike Kyouno's strikes, which he had sneered at—
This was different.
Irina's assault radiated a crushing pressure.
He couldn't react in time.
Too fast.
Too powerful.
Hundreds of strikes rained down,
So relentless that—
Even Julius's Flame Dragon couldn't absorb the sheer killing intent flooding in.
When it ended, he was still standing—barely.
But his body was riddled with wounds.
Armor torn.
Blood soaking through his once-pristine cloak.
"HAHAHA—"
A strained laugh bubbled from his bloodied lips.
"As expected of the Eternal Winter Dark Mage — Irina Heather.
The former strongest mage of Thorvalis… one who commands both ice and darkness.
Just one strike... and it's enough to display the overwhelming power of Divine-tier Dark magic.
Your power is truly… awe-inspiring.
Consider me impressed."
His words were laced with mockery, but his staggering steps betrayed him.
Across from him, Irina emerged — exuding an aura of cold, noble dominance.
In her hand now was a slender, pitch-black staff — radiating an ominous chill.
Worn, aged, and battle-scarred —
Yet still commanding.
A weapon long thought laid to rest, now raised once more.
Even Irina herself never thought the day would come when she'd wield it again.
But these enemies had left her no choice.
As for Julius—the moment his eyes landed on the staff in her hand, his expression twisted, distorted with greed and madness."So that's… the Rhea Scepter.A Divine-grade weapon, once wielded by the legendary mage Irina Heather?Stronger than my Superior-grade sword?Haha… If I melt it down and forge it into a sword—would it retain its Divine-grade power, I wonder?What a generous trophy this is!"
"Enough!""That hollow title you all glorify—I cast it aside long ago!Right now, I am no legend,and I am certainly not the 'Irina Feather' of tales.I am simply Irina—a mother, willing to risk everything for her daughter."
"And this scepter?""If you want it—then pay for it with your life!"
The moment the words left her lips, she vanished—
Moving faster than the eye could follow.
She appeared right before Julius.
He barely had time to raise his sword—
"KENGGGGGGG!!!"
Staff clashed against blade.
A direct impact that unleashed a shockwave powerful enough to send him flying a hundred meters back.
He had no time to recover—
"Black Ice Spear!"
From every direction, jagged ice spikes surged forth, cloaked in terrifying dark energy, racing toward him.
Julius tried to dodge,
But beneath his feet—
A pool of black aura locked him in place.
"BOOOOOOMMMMMM!!!"
The spikes converged and exploded into a storm of ice and smoke.
"Flame Wyvern Flight!"
Taking the full brunt of the blast, Julius shot skyward in desperation.
And for a moment—he thought he had escaped.
Until he looked up.
From high above—
Hundreds… no, tens of thousands of razor-sharp, jet-black ice shards had materialized from the void.
Blotting out the sky.
His eyes widened.
Paralyzed.
"Thousand Black Ice Execution."
The words rang out, devoid of emotion.
Only cold.
Only destruction.
Only judgment.
And then—
The sky fell.
Thousands of ice shards descended like a rain of death.
No gaps.
No escape.
An execution.
A peerless finishing blow.
...