"Are you stupid? Useless? Move, damn you!"
Icehart's voice tore through the forest like a whip, raw with rage.
Around him, bloodied subordinates scrambled through the undergrowth, panic clinging to their breaths, eyes wild, blades flashing uselessly through mist and leaf.
They scoured the dense forest, blades drawn, breaths ragged.
"You useless bastard!" Icehart roared, grabbing one of them by the collar and shoving him forward.
"That stupid bitch ssed everything up and now she wants to clean it up? Go to hell!"
He turned and stord deeper into the woods, fury radiating from every step.
Zhao i and Zhao Yun had escaped, they didn't even tell him where the artifact was.
They were supposed to be broken, barely clinging to life. Playthings. Ruined.
Betty had ordered their release.
"Let the n have their fun," she had said, voice cold and detached.
But in that mont when their chains were broken, at that very mont, the sisters struck.
Like cornered wolves, they struck, bone daggers flashing, spirit flares ripping through flesh. In a heartbeat, screams echoed.
Blood sprayed. And then, nothing but pounding feet in the underbrush..
Icehart chased them imdiately, certain he'd find them easily. Certain they'd collapse soon after.
But that never ca true.
The two were gone, lost sowhere in the thick, wild tangle of the forest, hidden like ghosts.
And yet, despite all this Betty didn't moved an inch.
She remained at the edge of the clearing, arms crossed, her expression unreadable as chaos unfolded before her.
Watching. Always watching.
Now, hours later, Icehart and his n were still tearing the forest apart, blades flashing and tempers rising.
The sisters had vanished.
And every second they stayed missing, Icehart's fury grew colder. Sharper. And more dangerous.
A lone bird swooped down from the canopy, wings cutting through the misty air with eerie precision.
It circled once, then landed gently on Icehart's gloved hand.
"Fly," he muttered, pressing two fingers to its feathered head.
The bird launched skyward, a swift blur against the cloudy sky.
"Sense share," he muttered.
In an instant, his vision split, one eye still seeing the forest around him, the other now soaring above the trees through the bird's eyes.
From above, he watched through its gaze, his expression dark and calculating.
He scanned rapidly: rivers, rocks, trails in the mud, broken branches, anything that might hint at movent.
"Keep searching!" Icehart snapped at the others, his voice a low snarl. "Fan out and sweep every inch of this place. If they're still breathing, I want them found."
The people panicked and rushed off, their armor clinking and boots crashing through underbrush.
But Icehart turned away.
His fury hadn't cooled, it had curdled.
He knew exactly who he needed to see next.
Betty.
He clenched his fist as he walked, the air around him rippling with suppressed killing intent.
She had started this.
Now she could explain it.
Icehart walked through the wilds like a thunderstorm in human form, fury trailing behind him like mist off a blade.
He reached the outpost tent, too serene. It mocked him. And there she was.
"Took you long enough," Betty said coolly, setting down her porcelain cup with a gentle clink.
By her side, a butler swiftly stepped in, wiping the table with practiced ease.
A maid stood nearby, holding a lacquered wooden umbrella above Betty's head to shield her from the dappled morning light.
Icehart stord in, boots crunching. His eyes burned with fury, his aura sharp enough to cut bark from trees.
Betty looked up at him with amusent dancing in her eyes.
She reclined slightly in her seat, unbothered, lips curling with wicked delight.
"Found them yet?" she asked, swirling the last drops of tea in her cup. "Surely, as a monkey, the forest should be your second ho."
Crack!
Icehart slamd his fist into the table, splitting the grain. "Stop calling that," he growled through gritted teeth.
Betty chuckled, tilting her head. "Why? Does it remind you of her?" she asked, her voice soft, almost sing-song, but carrying a blade beneath every word.
"If you know, then shut your damn mouth," he hissed.
"Oh?" Betty leaned forward, eyes gleaming. "And what if I don't?"
Her voice dropped to a whisper, but the chill behind it was enough to send the butler and maid scattering.
The maid dropped the umbrella in her haste to flee. The air warped with pressure.
Icehart drew his sword in one swift motion. "You can't intimidate forever," he said, his tone low and dangerous.
A pulse of golden light shimred across Betty's forehead, the ethereal radiance of the Phoenix sigil flaring to life once more. The ground itself seed to grow quiet in reverence.
"Well then," she said, rising from her seat, her voice now crystalline with ancient might. "Go ahead. Make a move."
The sword in Icehart's grip trembled, but not from fear.
It wasn't fear. Not exactly. But there was sothing old in that fla, sothing that made the marrow of his bones ache. He hated it.
Frost began to bloom along the blade, creeping like veins of pale lightning.
The ground beneath his feet crackled with ice, the warmth in the air dying with every breath he took.
"You think fire scares ?" he said coldly. "I was born in blizzards that could freeze the marrow of a Saint. You? You're just smoke and show."
Betty's Phoenix sigil flared again, this ti hotter, brighter. A soft wind stirred her hair as embers drifted around her like fireflies.
"You really want to test that theory?" she asked, stepping down from the platform. "Co on then, White Snow dog. Let show you how radiant fla devours frost."
With a flash, fire and ice collided in the air between them.
A whip of fla spiraled out from Betty's palm, scorching the air, but Icehart swept his blade upward, ice crystallizing into a massive shield, deflecting the attack with a hiss of steam.
"You'll regret releasing them," he said, stepping forward, the snow crunching louder with each step.
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