Momoko's scream pierced the air like a dagger.
Her expression twisted—equal parts fury and disbelief.
Her proud smirk had vanished, replaced by clenched teeth and cold sweat sliding down her temple.
The cracks Kouhei had carved into her ice golem's armor were spreading faster than she could patch them.
"You bastard! You think this is enough to beat me?! I'm not done yet—!!"
She slammed both palms into the golem's surface, channeling a massive surge of mana straight into its core.
The entire arena trembled as the golem erupted in a howling aura of cold.
The glaciers that armored it turned a deeper, icy blue—no longer just solid, but enchanted with dense mana that vibrated in the air.
The temperature plummeted.
Frost hissed across the ground, climbing every surface.
The air itself turned into biting needles, stabbing at exposed skin.
Misuzu had to take a step back, her breath fogging instantly.
Kouhei's fingers numbed, even through his gloves.
The mana she released now was different.
This wasn't just brute force anymore.
"I'll show you what happens when someone insults the legacy of the Yuki Clan," Momoko spat, her voice shaking with unhinged glee. "Now, freeze down to your fuckin' bones!"
The golem charged again—this time with all the weight of Momoko's fury behind it.
It sprinted with terrifying speed for its size, slamming down its glacier-covered fists in a relentless flurry.
Every dodge brought him centimeters from death.
Every evasion whipped wind past his ears.
He could feel the frost gathering at the corners of his eyes, the cold clinging to his limbs like chains.
But he didn't stop moving.
Kouhei's boots skidded across the ice, his blade gripped tighter than ever. He exhaled, his breath visibly thick in front of him.
His body was burning from the effort of resisting the cold, muscles trembling—but not from fear.
The time wasn't right yet.
The golem's massive hand slammed down again.
Kouhei leapt forward, flipping over the giant wrist and slashing mid-air.
More cracks burst across the armor, the glacier layer weakening with each pass.
"You're persistent…!" Momoko shrieked. "JUST DIE ALREADY!!"
She raised her hands to the sky, mana swirling violently around her.
Above them, dark clouds began to form, swirling with unnatural intensity.
She screamed the spell's name with all her might.
The heavens themselves opened, unleashing a violent snowstorm of razor-sharp ice shards.
These were tiny, bladed crystals.
They rained down from above like a sky filled with daggers.
Kouhei raised his blade above his head, spinning it in a tight arc to deflect as many shards as possible.
Even still, several grazed him—ripping into his coat, leaving cuts on his arms and cheek.
But his eyes didn't waver.
He gritted his teeth and charged forward.
But he knew where she was.
That towering bastard of a golem was still visible—barely—through the storm.
A wall of ice erupted in front of him.
Momoko was desperate now, raising defenses at every angle, trying to buy time.
He blasted through the wall, cutting it down in one clean swing.
Mana surged around his blade, dark and intense, pulsing like a heartbeat in sync with his own.
He leapt—high, higher than before.
Straight toward the golem's head.
The storm screamed around him.
And then—he vanished from sight.
Momoko snapped her head left—
Kouhei came from above—his sword carving downward like a guillotine from heaven.
The glacier armor cracked.
The mana inside the golem surged wildly, destabilized.
Momoko lost her footing, tumbling from the golem's shoulder—
She hit the snow hard, rolling a few feet before coming to a stop.
Above her, the golem trembled—its glacier spikes cracking apart.
It exploded in a burst of mist and shattered ice.
Chunks flew in every direction.
The battlefield stilled.
Kouhei stood above Momoko now, snow swirling behind him like slow-falling ash.
His blade rested at his side, slick with mana but steady.
Momoko groaned, half-conscious, her face flushed from rage and humiliation.
"I didn't come here to kill you," Kouhei said, voice calm, breath heavy. "I came here for your cooperation."
He extended a hand to her.
Momoko stared at it with wide eyes, her pride still burning behind the cold.
Snow continued to drift down in lazy spirals, blanketing the battlefield in silence.
The deafening noise from earlier—the crashes, the mana surges, the roars—had vanished like a storm that passed too suddenly.
Now, all that remained was the aftermath.
Kouhei stood motionless, the hilt of his sword loosely gripped in one hand, the blade pointed downward and buried slightly into the frostbitten earth.
Steam rose from his shoulders as his mana slowly calmed.
His breath was steady, his gaze focused—not triumphant, not arrogant, just resolute.
Across from him, Momoko lay on her knees, both palms pressed against the ground as if trying to stay upright through sheer will.
Her hair, once perfectly styled, now fell across her face in a disheveled mess.
Snow clung to her shoulders. H
er once-elegant robes were torn and frayed, her fingers trembling from mana exhaustion.
"…No…" she whispered.
Her voice was hoarse and broken. A whimper on the edge of shattering.
"…No… No… No no no no no no no—!"
She pounded the ground with her fist, cracking the thin layer of ice beneath her knuckles.
Her breath turned shaky, her throat tightening with rage and disbelief.
"This can't be real… It's not… It can't be!! I am the Queen of Ice! I am the head of the Yuki Clan! This… this is MY domain! How could I—?!"
Her eyes locked onto Kouhei—wild, bloodshot, and twitching in disbelief.
"You… you're nothing…! You're not even one of us! You're just some tool Yuuna dragged out from the dirt! You shouldn't have been able to even lay a scratch on me!!"
Her voice cracked mid-sentence, the edges of her fury fraying into desperation.
He didn't raise his voice.
He simply looked at her with quiet, unmoving conviction.
"You lost, Momoko-san," he said, calm but firm. "You gave me the terms yourself. You promised the support of the Yuki Clan if I won."
His words hit her like frostbite across her skin.
And then—her lip curled into a sneer.
She forced herself to her feet, though her legs were clearly shaking under the weight of pride and humiliation.
Her eyes still refused to look at him directly, instead staring just past his shoulder—as if acknowledging him would cause something inside her to break completely.
"Don't get used to it, Child of Anti-Prophecy," she spat. "This win of yours... it's a fluke. One single victory doesn't mean you're better than me. Or stronger. Or worthy of my respect."
Her fists clenched at her sides, nails digging into her palms.
"I'll follow through with the terms. I'll give you what you came here for. Resources, personnel, the Yuki Clan's temporary support in this ridiculous war of yours."
She turned away sharply, her snow-covered hair whipping in the air.
"But don't expect me to bow."
Silence stretched once more.
It came from the crowd of onlookers who had remained deathly silent throughout the final moments of the fight. The sound started slowly, uncertainly, and then picked up momentum.
Even the cold couldn't dampen their amazement.
They had witnessed something they never thought possible.
Misuzu, standing among them, had tears in her eyes—but they weren't sad tears. They were filled with pride… relief… and admiration.
She smiled gently, one hand pressed over her chest.
"…You did it, Kouhei-kun."
Kouhei turned his head slightly, offering her a small nod.
He then looked once more at Momoko's retreating figure, her back rigid with bitterness.
He simply let the quiet victory settle in the snow.
Because even if she wouldn't bow, even if she wouldn't admit it aloud—
And now, the war would shift.
The Yuki Clan had just joined Kouhei's side.
And Souichiro… would soon feel the storm coming.
"So, Yuki Momoko lost?" Souichiro asked, his voice calm but laced with a sharp undertone as he stared directly at Yuzuha, who stood silently before him like a loyal shadow.
Yuzuha gave a slight nod, her eyes gleaming with amusement as the corners of her lips curled into a subtle, knowing smile. "The girl tried. She managed to hold her ground for a bit, but in the end, it was honestly one-sided. It wasn't even close. From the looks of it, the Child of Anti-Prophecy is gearing up for an all-out war with you, Souichiro-sama."
A tense silence followed her words, broken only by the sound of Souichiro's soft, dark chuckle as his lips began to stretch into a slow, sinister grin.
"I see…" he murmured, his tone low and dangerous.
Then his smile widened, spreading across his face like a creeping shadow.
"Let him come then," he continued, his voice thick with venomous confidence. "And I will show Yuuna just how worthless that bastard truly is. I'll make her watch him die—make her feel every second of it. I want to see it... that expression on her face when she realizes there's nothing she can do. I'll drown myself in her despair... taste it, lick it from her soul like the finest wine. Won't that be beautiful?"
There was something disturbingly calm in the way he spoke, as if he were describing a work of art rather than someone's destruction. His eyes glinted with cruel satisfaction, the kind that only came from carefully nurtured malice.
From the way Souichiro was smirking, it was painfully clear—he had something sadistic in mind. And he wasn't bluffing. No matter how deeply it would hurt Yuuna, he would carry it out.
That unwavering conviction, that raw and twisted ambition… it was exactly why Yuzuha loved Souichiro so fiercely.
To her, there was nothing more beautiful than the darkness that radiated from the man she worshipped.