The rise of a Frozen Star

[POV Liselotte]

The reverberation of the initial impact still pulsed through my forearms, a dull frequency that threatened to numb my nerves. The fanged demon was nothing like his horned brother; he did not seek elegance or calculation. He was a mountain of corrupted muscle and dense bone, a creature that seemed to absorb the surrounding cold to fuel his own fury. His fists—each the size of artillery shells—rose again as Leah, exhausted behind me, struggled to catch her breath.

Feel the weight of my will, abomination, I murmured inwardly, bracing my stance against the cracked marble yielding beneath the beast’s weight.

The demon roared—a sound neither human nor beast, but like rusted metal screeching under immense pressure—and charged blindly forward. I didn’t raise a physical shield. Instead, I projected a dense sheet of ice, reinforced with layers of compacted mana that glowed electric blue. The collision was brutal. My boots slid back several inches, carving through the stone and sparking frost. The demon’s raw strength was so overwhelming that, for a moment, my vision blurred and the taste of iron filled my mouth.

It didn’t stop. Its tusks, now glowing with a purplish aura of stagnant demonic magic, came down in a guillotine-like strike. I had to roll sideways, barely avoiding an attack that pulverized the ground where I had stood a heartbeat before. Varek’s inhibitor still hummed in the air—a constant, invisible static that made every movement cost twice the energy it should. It felt like fighting submerged in frozen molasses, every fiber of my body protesting under spiritual friction.

In the distance, the chaos of the anatomical theater continued its bloody course. Seeing that I was holding the main beast at bay, Elliot raised his chipped blade and shouted an order that cut through the noise of battle.

“For Whirikal! You don’t need magic to slit their throats! Close ranks and crush them!” Elliot roared, leading the charge with the ferocity of a prince who had seen his home defiled.

The black-cloaked guards, inspired by Leah’s resilience and my display of power, surged against Varek’s followers. They no longer tried to cast spells that fizzled into useless sparks. Now they fought with mercy daggers, sword pommels, and their own bodies as blunt weapons. Varek’s mages, accustomed to hiding behind barriers they could no longer maintain under the influence of their own poorly calibrated inhibitor, began to retreat in panic.

“No… stay back! My lineage forbids you from touching me!” one of the traitorous nobles screamed—but his plea was cut short by a guard’s shield smashing his face against the wall. The discipline of the royal guard was now cutting through the fanatics, who without their magical advantage were nothing more than frightened men draped in expensive silk.

But my fight was far from over.

The fanged demon struck me with a massive backhand from its left arm. I blocked with my dark crystal blade, but the force of the impact was so overwhelming that it sent me crashing into one of the hall’s support columns. The collision drove the air from my lungs, and I felt a rib crack. Before I could recover, the monster was already upon me, its red eyes locked on my throat.

I tried to summon an ice spear to pierce its chest, but at that exact moment, Varek’s inhibitor pulsed violently, sending a sharp pain through my mana channels. The spell collapsed into harmless snowflakes.

“Damn it,” I hissed, watching the demon’s jaws open, revealing rows of blackened teeth.

“Lotte! To your left!” Leah’s shout cut through the air, filled with urgency that snapped my focus back into place.

I didn’t hesitate. Trusting her completely, I lunged left instinctively, letting the demon bite into empty cold air. In that instant, Leah—using the last of her strength and pushing her body to its limits—threw her short sword into the demon’s knee joint. There was no magic behind it, just steel and desperation, but the strike was precise enough to make the beast falter for a brief moment.

That was the opening I needed. The only one I would get.

I roared, gathering all the cold of my soul into my right fist. I didn’t aim for a complex structure or an elegant spell—I reached for the pure essence of absolute zero, the complete absence of motion. I struck the demon directly in the lower jaw, right at the base of its massive tusks.

The sound was like a glacier exploding in the dead of winter.

Ice burst outward from the point of impact, racing across its skull and sealing its eyes in opaque frost. The demon staggered back, shaking its head desperately, trying to roar—but the cold was already inside it, freezing its throat from the vocal cords outward. I gave it no respite. I leapt onto its shoulders, wrapped my arms—charged with mana so cold it burned—around its neck, and twisted with all my strength.

The crack of its spine echoed throughout the chamber—a final, decisive sound that silenced even the soldiers’ cries. The fanged demon collapsed like a felled tower, sending up a cloud of dust and shards of black ice. Its body began to disintegrate into ash, a sign that its bond to this world had been severed permanently.

I stood over the smoking remains, breathing heavily, sweat freezing along my temples. I was exhausted. My reserves were nearly depleted, and fighting against the inhibitor had left my muscles trembling with fatigue. But when I lifted my gaze, I saw that the battlefield had changed.

Elliot’s guard had finished their work.

Varek’s followers lay on the ground—disarmed, wounded, or dead. Elliot, his armor stained crimson with blood but his eyes blazing with fierce triumph, held two of the cult leaders by the throat.

“It’s over, Varek! Your pets are dead, and your men have fallen! Get down from that platform before I come up there and show you what happens to traitors!” Elliot roared, his voice echoing through the underground chamber.

Varek Valerius was deathly pale. His hands, which had once held the scepter with arrogance, trembled so violently that it slipped from his grasp and clattered down the stone steps with a pathetic ring. He looked at the demon’s remains, at his slaughtered men… and finally at me. His world of superiority had collapsed.

I turned away from him and walked toward Leah.

She was leaning against an operating table, trying to steady her breathing. I approached and wrapped my arms around her, feeling her warmth despite the lingering cold of my body.

“We did it,” I whispered, resting my forehead against hers.

She smiled—a weak smile, but filled with that light the inhibitor could never fully extinguish. “You did it, Lotte. You’re always our salvation.”

I turned back toward the platform, my gaze once again becoming a blade of merciless ice. Varek tried to stammer something—an excuse about his lineage or the future of the kingdom—but Elliot was already climbing the steps toward him, sword drawn.

The betrayal at the heart of the academy had been purged in blood.

But as I watched the demon’s ashes fade into nothingness, I knew the true enemy was still watching us… from the darkness of the north.