- Selene POV -
Selene moved steadily through the jagged ridge, her boots crunching against loose stone. The mountain air here was dry, heavy, yet every breath she exhaled frosted instantly in front of her. The cold followed her wherever she went—an unshakable aura that seeped into the ground with each step.
Her hand gripped the slender wand shaped like carved ice, its surface glimring faintly as if frost was trapped within. She held it close, steady, like a promise.
’I’m no longer shackled by her. No more orders, no more weight pressing down.’ Her thoughts were calm, asured, but the edge was sharp. ’Even so... I have to be first. I won’t let anyone place beneath them again.’
Her mind betrayed her with a single image—Noel, standing across from her in the arena. His lightning had cut through her ice. His fire had burned through her storm. Her first true defeat.
Her lips tightened. ’Why does thinking about him do this to ? Why do I... lose focus?’
A sudden roar shook the underbrush. A Stonehide Boar burst from the trees, tusks gleaming, its rocky plates scraping together as it charged with ground-shaking force.
Selene didn’t flinch. She flicked her wand, her voice cold and steady.
"Cryo Grasp."
Hands of ice erupted from the ground, clutching the beast’s legs. Frost climbed fast, locking it in place. The boar squealed and thrashed, eyes wild.
"Frozen Lance."
A spear of condensed ice materialized and shot forward. It pierced clean through the boar’s head, erging on the other side in a spray of frozen shards. The beast dropped instantly, silent and still, its blood crystallizing before it touched the dirt.
Selene lowered her wand, her breath even. ’Efficient. Nothing more.’
But the shadow of Noel lingered anyway.
Selene advanced deeper into the mountain trail, her boots leaving thin frost prints over bare stone. The natural heat of the region pressed against her, but it never touched her skin—the cold around her swallowed it whole.
Her wand pulsed faintly with mana, the crystalline surface glowing. She walked without hurry, without tension.
’Every morning... he was there.’ The thought ca unwelco. ’The only other one who trained as early as .’
She rembered Noel back then, stumbling through drills, sweat pouring down his face. Weak. Fragile. Yet he never skipped a day. ’I thought it was pathetic. And yet... I still rember it now.’
A shrill screech snapped her focus upward. A Crimson Talon Hawk dove from above, wings spread wide, feather-tips burning red like smoldering embers. Its talons glowed molten, leaving streaks in the air as it plumted.
Selene’s eyes sharpened. "Gravition Hold."
The air thickened, gravity spiking. The hawk staggered mid-dive, its wings straining against the invisible weight. She lifted her wand, precise, unshaken.
"Glacial Thrust."
A narrow spear of ice shot forward, piercing the hawk’s chest. It shrieked, twisting violently, feathers scattering. The spell’s force slamd it to the ground, a crater bursting under its body.
The creature writhed once, lifting its head. Selene stepped closer, her expression still blank.
"Frozen Lance."
The next strike drove straight through its skull. Silence fell, broken only by the faint hiss of frozen blood across the dirt.
Selene exhaled slowly, lowering her wand. The air was cold enough to sting her own lungs.
’He would have ended it faster,’ she thought suddenly, lips pressing thin. ’Why does that matter to ?’
Selene’s breath fogged in front of her as the cold spread outward, freezing moss and soil beneath her boots.
A guttural growl echoed. Then another.
Two Ironjaw Ravagers erged from opposite ends of the ridge, their hulking fras covered in tallic scales, jaws lined with jagged fangs that glimred like forged steel. Their red eyes fixed on her, both beasts advancing in a slow, heavy rhythm that cracked stone with each step.
Selene tightened her grip on her wand, her face a mask of calm.
’The night he broke into Iskandar...’ The mory hit her as sharp as the Ravagers’ fangs. Noel, dragging her from the house she had called a prison. At first, she hated him for it. For daring to interfere. For deciding her life for her.
But later, she understood—he hadn’t saved her for himself. He had simply refused to leave her there.
Her heart skipped once. She frowned. ’Why do I rember that now?’
The Ravagers roared in unison, charging. The ground trembled.
"Zero Point Burst."
Selene’s voice cut like ice. A sphere of compressed gravity ford between the beasts, pulling them inward with crushing force. Their claws scraped stone, their bodies straining against the invisible pull.
She lifted her wand higher, mana surging. "Frigid Bloom."
From beneath their feet, a massive flower of ice blood, petals sharp as blades. The Ravagers howled as the petals spun, slicing through scale and flesh alike. The storm of frost tore them apart, leaving only frozen remains scattered across the rocks.
The spell ended. Silence returned.
Selene lowered her wand, her expression blank. Yet her thoughts whispered traitorously: ’Why does thinking of him shake like this?’
The battlefield lay silent, shards of ice glittering across the rocks where the Ravagers had fallen. Steam rose faintly from their frozen corpses, the only sign that monts ago the ridge had been chaos.
Selene exhaled slowly, lowering her wand until its icy glow dimd. Above her, faint motes of light shimred—the drones of mana, ever present, recording every movent, every spell, every victory. Nobles, patriarchs, matriarchs... all of them were watching.
They had seen the elegance of her Frostfall, the precision of her strikes, the way she dismantled two Adept beasts as if it were routine. To them, she would look unshakable, a perfect heir of the Iskandar line.
But they could not see the storm inside her chest.
Her grip on the wand tightened, knuckles pale. The mory of Noel training at dawn flickered again—the stubborn boy who had once been too weak to even stand after sparring. She rembered how he kept showing up, bruised, exhausted, refusing to quit. He had no reason to. No duty binding him. And yet he endured.
Why did those mories resurface now, here, in the middle of the Hunt? Why did her heart race not from battle, but from a face that wasn’t here?
Selene tilted her chin higher, erasing the faint tremor of her lips before it could form. Her golden-cyan eyes turned colder, sharper.
"To win," she whispered, barely audible even to herself. "I must co first. I will not be second—not to anyone."
The drones circled above, capturing the flawless predator the world expected her to be. None of them could record the cracks beneath the ice, the silent war she waged against feelings she refused to na.
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