Grand Return System

Frost Beneath the Hidden Edge

"Haha, Junior Brother Leon, looks like your Amethyst Summit Division’s ultimate technique is only so-so."

Shera could no longer remain calm at this moment.

When could he boast if not now?

His laughter rolled out openly, almost too loudly, carrying across the high stone viewing platform where elders sat cloaked beneath drifting banners. His black robes stirred in the mountain wind, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

The other party had already used her ultimate move and hadn’t even wounded his son.

The outcome was already obvious... right?

Beside him, Leon sat in quiet composure, midnight robes marked with thin amethyst embroidery stirring lightly in the breeze. His long black hair brushed his shoulders, framing those unreadable purple eyes.

He only glanced at Shera once.

Then smiled.

A strange smile.

A smile that made Shera’s confidence waver for reasons he could not name.

"Yes," Leon said softly, almost lazily, "it seems Senior Brother Shera is very confident in the Secret Sword Summit’s ultimate technique?"

"Haha, it’s quite good." Shera stroked his beard with practiced calm. "The ultimate techniques of my Secret Sword Summit have been improved by generations of division masters. It’s not as fancy as Amethyst Summit Division. It’s just simple and practical moves."

His tone sounded modest.

But everyone heard the hidden sting.

Fancy.

A performance.

Something beautiful but hollow.

What truly killed, he implied, belonged to Secret Sword Summit.

Some elders exchanged subtle looks.

Even Mike raised a brow.

Leon merely smiled.

He said nothing for several breaths, as though savoring the wind.

Because he had also seen Shan’s sword technique.

Indeed—

the sword did not reveal its form, and killing intent remained buried in the heart.

Simple motions.

No flamboyant arcs.

No radiant spectacle.

Yet every shift concealed layers of murder.

A practical killing sword.

A predator pretending stillness.

Shera’s words indirectly mocked Amethyst Summit Division’s sword arts as performance.

Leon did not refute it.

He simply tilted his head and said with a faint, dangerous amusement,

"Then let’s... wait and see?"

Shera’s eyes turned cold.

Inside, he cursed.

Hmph. What are you pretending for? Still acting mysterious at a time like this?

I’ll see how you clean up the mess later.

But Leon only watched the arena.

As if the result was already decided.

Below—

sword energy reverberated.

The air hummed.

Metal sang.

Shan had successfully blocked the slash.

And stood unharmed.

His confidence, which had faltered moments ago, surged back like a rising tide.

He lifted his blade, sneering.

"Is that all?"

His voice rang over the arena.

"Fellow Sister, if this is all you have, then I advise you to surrender early."

A smirk formed.

"It’s not embarrassing to lose to me."

The crowd erupted into murmurs.

Some Secret Sword Summit students laughed under their breath.

Others waited.

Because Selena...

did not respond.

She stood in white, silver hair moving like moonlit frost in the wind.

Her blue eyes did not hold anger.

Only calm observation.

She was studying him.

Studying every hidden movement in Shan’s sword.

The slight turn of his wrist.

The delayed pulse of Mana.

The false opening.

The concealed killing path.

Then—

the corner of her lips curved.

A smile.

Cold.

Interested.

"Interesting."

Her voice was soft.

But somehow sharper than steel.

"False Sword?"

She lifted the Amethyst Mist Sword.

Its edge gleamed.

"I wonder..."

Her eyes narrowed.

"...if you can block this strike again?"

The sneer on Shan’s face stiffened.

A warning stirred in his instincts.

Then Selena moved.

She drew her sword again.

And in that instant—

The Hell Blizzard Technique activated.

Boom.

A pulse of frozen Mana exploded outward.

Snowflakes began falling over the entire arena.

At first delicate.

Then dense.

Swirling.

The sunlight dimmed beneath veils of white.

The air condensed.

Temperature plummeted.

Frost crawled over the arena floor.

Stone whitened.

Breaths turned to mist.

Even spectators in the front rows shivered involuntarily.

Shan’s expression changed.

The mocking ease vanished.

"Heaven-grade secret technique..."

His voice carried disbelief.

This time...

everyone present finally saw clearly.

The terrifying cold Selena had used to defeat Blaise before...

was not caused merely by the Divine Ice Bones in her body.

It came from a cultivated secret technique.

And not just any technique.

A Heaven-grade Sacred Art.

The realization spread like thunder.

"What?"

"That’s a Heaven-grade art?"

"How can a second star student possess such a thing?"

"Impossible..."

Gasps rose across the academy grounds.

Even elders who had remained composed leaned forward.

Mike’s eyes flashed.

Yaman narrowed his gaze.

Shera’s fingers tightened around his beard.

His confidence finally cracked.

And when the Hell Blizzard Technique was unleashed—

the atmosphere reached its peak once more.

The very world seemed to hold its breath.

Even Leon’s purple eyes gleamed faintly.

Though outwardly calm, inwardly he felt a trace of satisfaction.

Good, he thought.

Show them.

Snow drifted around Selena’s figure.

She looked almost unreal.

A frost spirit descended into mortal battle.

Her robe fluttered.

Silver hair danced.

Cold Mana spiraled around her blade.

Crack—

Ice spread over the arena floor beneath Shan’s feet.

His pupils contracted.

Danger.

Real danger.

He raised his sword immediately.

Mana surged.

The False Sword intent gathered.

But for the first time...

his heart trembled.

Selena noticed.

And smiled.

"Why so tense, Fellow Brother?"

A soft taunt.

Light.

But cutting.

"Didn’t you say I should surrender?"

The crowd stirred again.

Even some students laughed.

Shan’s jaw clenched.

"Hmph!"

He forced coldness into his expression.

"Don’t act smug. Secret techniques alone don’t decide victory."

Selena’s eyes gleamed.

"No?"

Her grip tightened.

Then the sword moved.

A slash.

Simple.

Elegant.

Terrifying.

It did not erupt with loud spectacle.

It came with silence.

A pale crescent of frozen sword intent carved through the storm.

Where it passed—

air froze.

Sound dulled.

Even space seemed to stiffen.

Shan reacted instantly.

False Sword erupted.

Layer upon layer of hidden killing intent stacked into defense.

Sword met sword.

BOOM.

An explosion of frost and sword energy shook the arena.

Shockwaves rolled outward.

Snow spiraled violently.

Spectators shielded their faces.

For a moment neither figure could be seen.

Only white.

Then—

clang!

Another collision.

Then another.

The two blurred.

Steel flashed through blizzard mist.

Shan’s hidden killing strikes pierced from impossible angles.

Selena met them with glacial precision.

No wasted motion.

No panic.

Each step graceful.

Each strike colder.

Faster.

Heavier.

Shera’s breathing became shallow.

Impossible.

How had this girl grown to this point?

Even Leon watched with sharpened focus.

Because Selena was not merely using the Hell Blizzard Technique.

She was weaving comprehension into it.

Her sword was evolving mid-battle.

And Shan realized it too.

Damn it...

Sweat beaded at his temple despite the cold.

He had mocked her moments earlier.

Now he was being pressed back.

Step.

Step.

Step.

His boots scraped frozen stone.

Then Selena’s voice drifted through snow.

"Can you still hide your edge now?"

Her sword rose.

Frost condensed along the blade until it looked forged from winter itself.

A terrifying pressure gathered.

Even the elders felt it.

Mike whispered,

"This child..."

"...has monstrous comprehension."

Yaman gave a rare nod.

Shera’s face darkened.

Shan roared and forced Mana outward.

The False Sword unleashed.

Hundreds of concealed sword intents erupted like assassins from shadow.

The strongest move of Secret Sword Summit.

And yet—

Selena stepped into it.

Not back.

Forward.

Her silver hair whipped behind her.

Blue eyes cold as moonlit ice.

Sword descending.

A single strike.

Clean.

Absolute.

Like judgment.

The blizzard surged with it.

Frozen sword intent swallowed the hidden edges.

Crack—

crack—

crack—

Shan’s layered sword intents shattered one by one.

His expression finally broke.

Fear.

Raw and naked.

"How—"

Boom!

The collision exploded.

He staggered back three steps.

Blood rose to his lips.

He swallowed it down.

The arena gasped.

Shera half rose from his seat.

"No..."

Leon only folded his sleeves.

Calm.

Almost amused.

As if saying—

Now do you understand?

Selena lowered her blade slightly.

Snow circled her.

"I told you," she said.

"I wondered whether you could block this strike again."

Shan’s breathing turned ragged.

His pride screamed.

Yet something colder gnawed underneath.

He might lose.

Lose here.

Before all Seven Division.

He tightened his sword until his knuckles whitened.

And in the stands, whispers rose like a storm.

"Wait..."