Creed stood tall with his arms folded, spear resting lightly against his shoulder, his cloak fluttering behind him in the cold wind like a flag of defiance.
Tierra stood to his left, one dagger twirling between her fingers while her other hand shimred with grey.
Lilith stood to his right, her scythe balanced across her back like a silent threat, her sharp violet eyes locked on their opponent.
And that opponent was none other than Alan Snow, the cold prodigy of the Snow Family who had just taken a knee, panting, his hands pressing against the cracked ground.
Creed narrowed his eyes slightly. For a mont, he didn’t speak. He just... observed.
He wasn’t arrogant enough to pretend this had been easy. No, Alan had been far tougher than Creed expected.
The guy didn’t just have a path, he also had an art. A real, personalized, devastating art crafted from his Ice Path, and that made him an entirely different beast compared to all the cannon fodder Creed had swept aside before.
It had taken the combined force of all three of Creed’s paths: Killing, Freedom, and Mountain, plus both Lilith and Tierra activating their sigils, just to bring this guy to his knees.
And even now, the air was freezing around them like the whole world had caught a cold.
Creed’s mind wandered briefly. If this was how strong Alan was with just one path and a single art, how terrifying would the guy be if he ever managed to comprehend a second art?
Or worse... a third?
Creed had to admit it. He was impressed. And a tiny, wicked smile tugged at the edge of his lips because nothing thrilled him more than beating soone that strong into the ground.
Alan finally rose from his crouch, cracking his neck with a loud pop. "Not bad," he said with a bitter grin.
His gray eyes glead like polished steel. "You’re stronger than I thought. But now, let show you what a true genius of the Snow Family can do."
Then, with a smooth snap of his fingers, his aura exploded.
Howl!
Ice howled around him like a blizzard had been summoned from thin air.
Frost danced along the ground in intricate patterns, and snowflakes began to spiral around him in a srizing cyclone.
Then, it ford a porcelain-white armor that looked like it had been carved from ancient glacier stone, smooth, elegant, yet brimming with power.
Each piece fit perfectly around Alan’s tall, slim fra, and from the runes glowing faintly on the surface, Creed could tell one thing: this was an Artifact.
Creed’s eyes widened, and his grin dropped for a second.
’Of course you had an Artifact,’ Creed thought, rolling his eyes. ’Why wouldn’t you?’
The next mont, Alan’s body flared like a beacon. His Path of Ice surged out with renewed vigor.
His ice type bloodline activated with a loud boom, his hair disintegrating into shimring snow particles that fluttered around his head like a royal halo.
A deep, thrumming hum filled the air as he expanded his domain again, and this ti, it was different.
The domain pulsed with cold majesty, like standing at the heart of a glacier throne room.
"Let’s end this," Alan said softly. Then, he raised his hands and activated his art again.
Only this ti... there weren’t one. There weren’t even two.
Four Ice Coffins began forming around Creed, each one humming with dreadful energy, each one warping the space it touched into solid, shimring crystal.
Bam!
The trap was perfect. Each coffin aid to close around him, forming a frozen prison cube that would detonate inwards with the fury of a dying star. It was beautiful. It was deadly. And it was a checkmate move... for anyone else.
But Creed had already predicted this.
With a grin that flashed like a blade, he activated the teleportation ability hidden within his sigil.
Fwoosh! In a blink, he vanished right before the coffins snapped shut, and when he reappeared, it was right beside Alan, his spear already mid-swing.
The weapon was charged. His domain reinforced it, and his path of Killing and Freedom fused into it like twin rivers of deadly power.
It was a masterstroke attack, one that would’ve ended almost any other normal candidate.
But Alan was not normal.
He instantly created an Ice Coffin between them, and this one smaller, concentrated, and denser than before.
The block of frozen space froze Creed’s strike in mid-air, the impact exploding in a burst of white mist.
Creed’s spear bounced back, deflected not by a shield or armor, but by a space that had been turned into pure ice.
It was defense by offense. Cold. Brutal. Smart.
Creed took a step back. "Okay... that’s new."
But before Alan could counter, two shadows blurred into position beside him.
Lilith’s violet eyes glowed as her scythe roared with lightning, and Tierra’s blades shimred with grey space.
They didn’t hesitate. As one, they struck from opposite sides. Tierra’s attack cleaved through with space-slashing montum, while Lilith’s scythe carved into the side like thunder cutting steel.
The Ice Coffin tried to hold... but it cracked. Then shattered.
Rumble!
The explosion of frost was deafening. Shards of ice flew in all directions like knives, slicing through stone and air alike.
But Alan was already stumbling back, growling as the destruction of his shield knocked him off-balance.
Creed caught his breath, spinning his spear once before pointing it straight at Alan’s chest.
"You’re strong," Creed said, voice calm but full of battle-high amusent. "But you’re not the only one who can surprise people."
Alan’s glare deepened, but there was a flicker of worry in his eyes now. Despite activating his artifact, he still didn’t have the advantage.
But Creed wasn’t done.
The restriction from the Rift was finally gone and it seed they could now freely access their storage devices.
Creed’s eyes glead. "Ti to show off a little," he said with a chuckle and retrieved the brown ring to his finger.
Instantly, his body shimred like a heat mirage and disappeared into nothing.
Alan’s eyes darted around. "Coward!" he shouted, sweeping his hand in a wide arc and freezing the space in front of him.
But it was too late. Creed reappeared right behind him, spear already in motion.
The tip of it sliced through the air with such force it shattered the frost mist around Alan in an instant.
The difference between this and teleportation was the ability to delay his reappearance and switch up his flow of the battle.
He was less predictable when he could suddenly disappear and remain in hiding!
CLANG!
Alan spun just in ti, blocking the blow with a chunk of ice hardened by his domain. But the power behind Creed’s strike sent him skating backward.
Before Alan could regain his footing, lightning crashed down beside him—Lilith’s scythe arcing like a bolt from the heavens—and he had to throw up a barrier of ice just to keep his pretty face from getting fried.
At the sa ti, Tierra warped behind Alan’s ice wall and fired a compressed space orb that detonated like a spatial grenade, causing the whole block of defense to implode from within.
Bam!
Alan was left panting, eyes wild but still determined.
"You’re monsters," he hissed, frost clinging to his lips. "All three of you. And you—" He pointed at Creed, who had just vanished and reappeared again.
"You especially. You haven’t even ford an Art, and you still made go this far?"
Creed grinned and twirled his spear. "You’re not too bad yourself, Snowflake. But your drama needs work."
Alan’s face twitched. "Fine," he growled, "then allow to leave you a parting gift."
His armor glowed even brighter, frost energy condensing like a blizzard around him.
With a flick of his hand, four glowing runes on his chestplate lit up, and a massive coffin of ice—far more ornate than before—rose from the ground.
Alan stepped inside like it was his personal limousine.
"I’ll see you at the top," he said calmly. "And next ti... you better have an Art of your own, monster."
With a loud crack and a gust of icy wind, the coffin sealed shut and then blinked out of existence in a burst of blue-white light.
When the frost cleared, all that was left was silence and a single, glowing object hovering in the air.
A Dominion Key.
Creed blinked. "Did... did he just drop this like it’s change?"
Lilith whistled. "Wow. Must be nice to be rich."
Tierra shrugged. "He called you a monster, so maybe he felt like it was worth the price of surviving."
Creed snatched the key with a victorious flourish. "Three Dominion Keys. Two floors to go before I knock on the door of the throne."
Before he could say anything else, the ground trembled. He turned around, and imdiately wished he hadn’t.
An actual sea of candidates was charging toward him. Clearly, his point total and Fla of rit had painted a big red target on his back, and the vultures had gathered to feast.
"Are you kidding !?" Creed yelled, his voice full of disbelief.
Without waiting for an answer, he slamd his ring again and turned invisible. "See you suckers later!"
What followed was less a battle and more a chaotic ga of tag.
Creed zipped through the ruins, his shirt flapping, blinking in and out of sight like a mischievous ghost while Tierra and Lilith created chaos behind him.
Lightning exploded like bombs, portals opened under enemies’ feet and dropped them into collapsing walls, and confused shouts echoed all around.
Creed giggled through it all like a madman.
"Co on, faster, faster—where’s the damn gate—YES!"
There it was, standing tall like salvation in a desert; an illusory stone arch pulsing with runes, guarded by nothing more than ti and a 10,000-point fee.
Creed sprinted up, tossed the points with a flourish, and leapt through before anyone could say "ambush."
In a flash of light, he vanished, leaving behind only footprints, a lot of unconscious bodies, and the echo of his voice:
"See ya later, losers!"
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