Half a day slipped by, and the summit of Extreme Ice Mountain edged into view; the cold bit deeper, and the Sword Aura sheathing me frosted into a thin glaze.
Push a little harder—soon I’ll meet the Snow Maiden. Please don’t be absurdly strong; it’s only the first layer. My chest tightened like ice clamping a drum.
Clutching hope and worry, I kicked into a faster pace, lungs burning like winter lamps, and sprinted for the crown of the peak.
Hours trickled like snowmelt; at last, I reached the summit.
“Wow—so beautiful!”
Breath caught; crystal ice sculptures stood lifelike, as if frozen souls mid-motion, and the ground mirrored an ice-blue sky where my reflection swam.
The view was a tapestry; dusk leaned in, and the sinking sun braided ice-blue with amber, painting a dream across the heights.
From here, ridgelines rolled like a stone ocean, peaks big and small crashing onward to the horizon.
“Uh—I’m not here to sightsee. I need to find the Snow Maiden, fast!”
I shook off the spell like snow from hair, pulled my gaze back, and headed toward the summit’s heart.
At the center, a refined pavilion perched like a white crane; inside, a woman in a white dress sipped tea unhurried—beauty so still it stalled my feet.
“You must be the Snow Maiden—Mikaret?” I stepped into the pavilion and asked, manners held like a shield.
“I am. I’m Mikaret Eira, guardian of the first floor, Extreme Ice Mountain, in the Nine Cold Labyrinth.”
Her voice chimed on ice; she stayed languid, then lifted her head, and her pure ice-blue eyes sent a chill crawling down my spine.
“You’re a challenger from the Mizumi Clan, aren’t you? Not bad—reaching the summit so fast.”
“Mm. May we begin? I’m on a tight clock.” My focus sat cold as steel; her praise slid off like snow.
“Don’t be so hasty. How about a cup of tea to settle your spirit before we fight?”
She smiled, light as frost, poured me a cup, and pushed it across the table like a calm lake.
“...Fine.”
I sat, took the cup, and drank; a cool, sweet note spread through me, and the knot in my chest loosened like thawing ice.
“How’s the taste?”
“Excellent. By the way, may I ask a question?”
I set the cup down and met Mikaret’s gaze, voice steady as a blade in snow.
“As long as it’s not rude, ask anything.”
“What’s your relation to Michelle?”
Their names chimed alike; I’d visited Michelle’s home, and its size didn’t fit someone doll-small—felt like someone else owned the place.
“We’re sisters~”
“Sisters?” My brows lifted; their looks shared a thread like frost over water.
“Well, sisters without blood. Years ago I found her collapsed on Extreme Ice Mountain; I brought her back, and she decided I was her older sister.”
“Oh, I see.”
“Hehe. I didn’t expect you, Mizumi, to be saved by Michelle—she’s scared of strangers. Seems that child likes you.”
“Is that so? I’m happy to hear it.” Warmth pricked through the cold like a lantern in snow.
“So…”
Her tone iced over, face a smiling-not-smiling mask, elegant and dangerous, like frost hiding thorns.
“So?”
A bad feeling rose like fog in my chest, shadowing my breath.
“So, to keep my cute little sister from being stolen by you, I’ll turn you into an ice sculpture.”
She said it with a tranquil face, words like gentle snow hiding knives; I got it, though—if my sister got cozy with another guy, I’d sling Sword Aura too.
…Wait—an ice sculpture? Those at the summit—weren’t they natural or master-carved?
Reading me, Mikaret smiled and lifted the veil: “They’re the remains of challengers through the years. Fail to defeat me, and you’ll be frozen forever, an ornament on Extreme Ice Mountain.”
“…”
The calm I’d rebuilt snapped taut; not good. She wasn’t a gentle sister—she was an ice witch. A cruel witch.
I stood without a word, stepped out of the pavilion, and leveled the Shattered Light Sword at Mikaret. “I’ll defeat you and move on. I won’t be left here as ice.”
“Ah, so impatient. Fine.”
She set down her cup, walked toward me, and tilted her head toward an open patch. “It’s cramped here. Let’s fight on that clearing.”
“Mm.”
I nodded and followed to the broadest plateau at the summit; the air grew heavy, like storm-snow waiting to fall.
Her leisure vanished; a severe frost-mask took its place, a face without a ripple of feeling.
Strong—far stronger than the Ice Wolf King. Through Sword Intent, I barely tasted her power—at least half-step Divine Realm.
Strike first. I packed Sword Aura onto the Shattered Light Sword and slashed, a crescent flying toward her.
“Parlor trick.”
She flicked her hand; a few ice spikes shot out and ate my sword aura, shattering it like thin glass. It was only a probe, low on energy; still, I hadn’t expected it so easy.
“My turn. Catch this.”
She vanished in a blink; the next breath, she stood before me, right palm bristling with ice thorns, and she slammed down.
Bad! I whipped the Shattered Light Sword up and caught her strike.
Clang!
The thorns weren’t as hard as the Shattered Light Sword; at contact, several snapped with crisp cracks. But the force hit heavy, shoved me back a few steps, and my wrist buzzed numb.
“Blocked? Good reaction.”
She murmured, drifting back; behind her, dozens of ice spears bloomed like a deadly grove, tips flashing with murderous cold light.
“Go.”
At her command, the spears launched, ripping the air with whooshing fury, streaking straight for me.
I didn’t dare blink; I bent my knees, sank a touch, set the Shattered Light Sword at my hip, and packed Sword Aura tight.
“Now!”
When they were within three meters, I snapped into the Draw Sword Technique and swung, flinging a curved arc of Sword Aura.
Clang! Clang! Clang!...
In the end, I held—barely. Too close. If I hadn’t thrown out a few more lines of Sword Aura after, I’d have been skewered.
Mikaret’s power blew past my expectations. That Draw Sword Technique used half my strength, and I still needed follow-up to survive.
