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In the dark valley, one side was shrouded in ice crystals and violent rain, while the other leaned against the fickle aurora.
Ian raised his sword, and a hazy white mist spilled out from the gaps in the alchemist's armor, but it wasn't the chill one might expect. Instead, it was the steam of intense heat.
Contrasting this, behind him, structures made of ice continuously swelled, ultimately forming wing-like frameworks. The true chill, mixed with essence, erupted from them, turning the surrounding raindrops into brilliant ice crystals illuminated by thunder.
A moment seemed like eternity, until Ian swung his sword forward in a feint, shattering the frozen tranquility.
In an instant, all the previously motionless ice crystals started to spin. They formed a long chain of ice in midair, hurtling toward where the young man's sword pointed—noisy and ferocious, like a miniature hail storm.
