A happy ending.
When you're reading a story, the first thing you want as soon as you're close to the end is that.
For the character you like to have their own happy ending.
But what about a person?
When a person is close to death, do they ask themselves how to achieve a happy ending?
That's not it.
What they most likely end up doing is reflecting back on their life, regrets piling up all over the place, as nothing can stop the cycle.
For people living in the present, it's age.
For the ones who lived in the past, it was war.
For the ones who'll be able to win over age in the future, a new 'barrier' will inevitably appear, as nothing can ever escape death.
In short, it's anything but 'happy'.
But why am I so focused on that?
The World Tree's 'trial' had many different meanings hidden within.
It made me aware that just as I watched different 'characters' and their 'stories,' I also wished, on the different shows I had not seen before, for a happy ending for the protagonist.
Once I reached the last parts, that's what I ended up thinking.
But then, the question came as if it was natural.
What about me?
Aren't I just one of the many characters, with my own story?
What should I strive for, to recognize my ending as a happy one?
I do not fear death, age, or the future. I do not need to reflect on my life, either.
So, what is my happy ending like?
Is it to reunite with Alexia and build a family somewhere in the Multiverse?
Is it to destroy the System?
No, perhaps I should start from an easier point.
When can I say I have reached the ending?
No, in the first place, there's a problem to this train of thought.
Is the fact I'm thinking of my ending and wishing it was happy the distinction between me and 'real' people?
A ragged breath echoed in the still air, breaking the trance I had fallen into.
My gaze drifted downward, taking in the scene before me.
Ah, right.
Blood.
A river of it, splashing all over the classroom floor, staining the cracked tiles in thick, glistening streaks of crimson.
It wasn't just the floor that was like this, either.
The walls were marred with dark trails of red, bodies impaled like grotesque ornaments.
Glassy eyes stared back, frozen mid-scream.
Ice jutted from every corner, spearing through flesh and bone. Some twitched, gasping. Most did not.
This was [Ice]'s embrace.
The cold bit my lungs, but I felt nothing. Not the iron stench, not the splinters of bone underfoot.
The Absolute Skill wrapped me in a cocoon of numb detachment—a bubble where sensation dissolved into static.
Like watching a painting, I thought.
This wasn't magic. Not the way mages whispered incantations or clawed at concepts.
My Mana didn't bend—it became.
Raw, pure Ice, shaped by will alone.
No intent. No rules. Just cold.
The limits?
There were a few.
My Mana's purity, my stamina, and the...detachment.
A few of my talents proved themselves quite useful to resist the latter, though.
[Resilience] anchored me, [Determination] a blade against the fog...
I could claw back to feeling anytime I wished so.
The cold air reeked of iron, thick and suffocating, but I felt nothing.My gaze trailed to the only being still alive and kicking in the room.
Her.
A silhouette at the far end of the room, pristine where everything else was ruin. Dark hair fell like a curtain around a face carved from shadow, her expression smooth, depthless—a still pool hiding jagged rocks beneath.
Ice shards hurtled toward her.
She didn't dodge.
A tilt of the head, a flick of her wrist. Lightning-quick, but languid.
Effortless.
The shards exploded inches from her skin, not even dust gracing her sleeve.
My pulse thrummed.
Aside from Shiba Tatsuya, few could counter my magic so effortlessly. From instinct alone, I knew she was dangerous.
The bubble of numbness peeled back as it felt like I had jumped back into the painting.
I could feel her threat even more, now that my senses were back.
A monster wearing human skin.
The Usurper.
Aka, Nakamura Akari.
"Did you really think this pathetic ambush would work?"
Her eyes flickered—microscopic, but I caught it. A fracture in that abyss-cool mask.
"Did you think," she hissed, "I'd let a parasite fucker keep using my brother's body as a puppet? Fuck you" Blue electricity coiled up her arms. "I'll make you suffer to the point you'll beg me to kill you"
Ice erupted around me. Not shields—javelins. Sixteen of them, angled to pin her limbs, throat, heart.
In response, barriers bloomed—crackling, translucent—shattering the first wave. But the ice wasn't meant to kill.
Distract.
I pivoted on my heel, momentum deadening as I defied physics' pull.
A desk, half-frozen to the floor, became my springboard.
Blood-slick ice? Irrelevant. My center of gravity shifted, toes gripping nothing but air as I lunged sideways, parallel to the ground. Her next barrier flared too late.
My fist, sheathed in ice, grazed her ribs.
A lightning whip lashed out.
I let the strike's airflow yank me, body rolling with the current, resistance nullified. The bolt tore through a frozen corpse instead, thawing it to a gory pulp.
"I didn't choose to possess this boy's identity, dumb bitch. Not my fault." I landed atop a tilted ice spire, feet adhering effortlessly. "Though, I wonder what'll happen when I die~"
Her pupils tightened, knowing the truth as much as I did.
She lunged, but I was already falling backward, spine arched like a bow. Her fist whistled past, vaporizing the spire.
I caught myself mid-drop, palm slamming the floor—ice surged, encasing her ankle.
She snarled, shattering it, but I'd already rotated upright, balance unbroken.
She crushed a corpse's skull underfoot, grinning at the wet crunch as she found something to pick on. "You butchered those Innocents twice. You're even disrespecting their corpses"
She's full of bullshit.
It won't work on me.
"They were already dead," I spat back. "You just dressed the puppets."
Her laugh was a live wire. "You were not aware of it when you acted to kill them"
Lightning arced—not at me, but the ceiling. A steel beam crashed down. I leapt, air resistance parting around me like water, and landed on the falling metal. Ran its length as it fell, then kicked off, ice blooming beneath my feet to skate across a frozen blood river.
She was there, fist meeting my palm.
Ice vs. Lightning.
Steam exploded.
"Enough games," she spat.
"Agreed."
The temperature plummeted.
A faint blue glow pulsed from her fingertips, the arcs of lightning crackling in the air as they soon condensed into faint bluish light.
"Let me show you something truly terrifying."
She lunged.
Faster than I expected.
Ice walls erupted—shattered instantly.
Compared to before, her power had at least doubled.
How?
A shockwave tore through the room, flinging bodies around like confetti.
I twisted, retreating, as a bolt of condensed energy ripped through the wall.
Sunlight poured in—a golden blade splitting the carnage. Dust motes danced in its beam, gentle against the ruin.
A grotesque beauty.
Another spike shot toward her; she dodged with a fluid twist, closing the gap between us with terrifying speed.A sharp arc of her hand, and the defenses I had barely managed to erect crumbled like sandcastles in a storm. Immediately, she was within striking range, her eyes locked onto mine with a predatory gleam.I countered with all my might.Various ice daggers materialized from the air. They slashed at her vital points that, if struck, would hinder her movement. Each dagger was infused with Authority, that I hoped would not only wound but also significantly slow down any attempts at regeneration.She pivoted, weaving through them, her fists glowing with raw energy.The next exchange was pure instinct—Ice meeting lightning, every impact sending sparks and shards flying.
The ground beneath us cracked, unable to withstand the sheer force of our battle.
A feint.
A flicker.
Her fist grazed my cheek.
That's all it took for blood to start flowing.
[The Lightning attacking the Host is too strong]
[Impossible to absorb—]
I ignored the prompts, gritting my teeth as the jolts locked my muscles.
I retaliated.
My ice-coated hand slashed upward, a razor arc aimed for her throat.
She twisted—almost fast enough.
The edge caught her neck, a thin red line blooming.
First blood.
Her hand flew to the wound, fingers coming away stained.
She stared at the smear, then at me. No rage. No shock. Just… calculation.
"Interesting," she murmured.
Faster than before, she was in front of me.
Her fist blurred, and I barely raised my arms in time.
The impact was a thunderclap.
My forearms shattered.
Bones splintered, flesh pulped, the force rippling through my body.
Blood sprayed, mingling with the frost and rubble. I skidded back, boots carving trenches in the ice, but my balance still held.
[Regeneration+] stitched the sorry state I was in to a slightly better one, but it wasn't instantaneous.
I needed time.
Something I didn't have.
Another strike.
Another block.
My arms crumpled again, but I shifted my center of gravity, letting the force spin me into a counter.
My heel connected with her ribs—crack—but she barely flinched.
"Not bad," she said, lightning coiling around her fists. "But you're still too slow."
The room became a storm.
Her lightning lashed out, and I met it with ice.
Shards met arcs, explosions of steam and sparks filling the air.
The ground buckled, the walls groaned, and the air itself seemed to scream under the strain.
Until...
"You're holding back," she said all of a sudden, her voice cutting through the chaos.
I smirked, blood dripping from my lips. "And you assumed I wouldn't?"
Frankly, I was half bluffing.
It's true that I have more to show rather than the [Ice] Absolute Skill, but I cannot show my full power at the moment.
Alas, the circumstances this time are against me.
If I want to use more than one Absolute Skill at once, my body wouldn't be able to keep at bay more than one side effect as strong as the one [Ice] had.
I could manage to easily command [Ice] only because I was resisting the side effect.
Also, there's another element.
It's my fighting style.
My enemy knows all the research I had been doing on magic, and I do not know what's her extent of knowledge on other types of Magic I could cast, like the Time Stop magic, or if she could resist it.
In other words, whatever I did with magic, would put me at a massive disadvantage.
So, using my Magic was out, as well.
The only thing that was left was my Sword, and the other two Absolute Skills I have.
Though, for now, I was planning on putting on a show for my enemy, to make her feel like that's all I had that I didn't show in any way or form.
Seems like that plan was out, as well.
'Time to change my plans'
I planned to let the class freeze gradually before I tried this out, to catch her off guard, but at this rate, I'll end up dead before I can do shit.
The classroom reeked of ozone.
My knuckles whitened around the frozen desk I'd yanked free as a makeshift shield.
Across the room, Akari cracked her neck, blue light writhing around her fists like caged serpents.
"I thought I had. But it's fine. At least, I can enjoy myself a little before crushing you" she said, smiling. Her feet sparked against the floor.
I exhaled—and the air turned to frost.
It was time to go all out.
Ice exploded from my palms.
It devoured the floor, the walls, the ceiling.
The classroom became a glacier in seconds. She lunged, but her foot slipped on the sudden frost. Too predictable. My ice hated stillness—it thickened under her soles, locking her in place.
Or so I thought.
Her hands blazed. Blue lightning detonated, shattering the ice at her feet. Shrapnel sliced my cheek as she blurred forward.
Her fist rocketed toward my ribs—I leaned sideways, letting my spine bend like a willow branch. The lightning grazed my jacket, searing holes, but my feet never left the ground. Center. Hold.
It was at times like this that I loved [Body Zen].
"Tch. Petty Tricks" she sneered, pivoting. Her leg whipped toward my temple.
I dropped flat—not falling, choosing. My back hit the ice, but my hips twisted, knees locking at impossible angles.
Her kick sailed overhead as I slid across the frozen floor like a hockey puck, frictionless but controlled. Her eyes narrowed.
She's learning.
That's one troublesome aspect she had.
She was an adapting genius.
It won't take long for her to pull an 'I understand it now' on me.
I had to end this fast.
I vaulted upright, yanking moisture from the air.
A sword of ice coalesced in my grip—just as her palms flared.
Twin bolts of lightning screamed toward me.
I swung the blade, not to block, but to redirect.
Ice met electricity, and the sword splintered into a thousand glass-sharp shards.
They hung in the air, glittering, before I sent them screaming back at her with a flick of my wrist.
She danced aside, but one shard nicked her shoulder. A smile couldn't help but bloom on my lips.
Even a shattered shard of a sword is still a sword.
As such...
"[Sky Slash]."
All the conditions to activate the skill were met.
The shattered remnant of my ice blade bloomed with wings of light—razor-edged feathers that sliced through her shoulder.
The woman froze mid-step. A choked gasp escaped her as the light seared inward, tearing through muscle and bone indiscriminately.
Blood speckled her lips.
There it is.
An opening.
I charged, freezing every step. The floor groaned, buckling under layers of ice, but my balance held absolute. The ground tilted—30 degrees, 45, a sheer slope—but I ran perpendicular, defying the tilt.
Her eyes widened, pupils dilating with pain. Now you see it.
Her counter came fast, but slower now—a whip of lightning aimed at my knees.
She was compensating, favoring her left side.
The internal damage did its part.
I leapt, and this time, she couldn't adjust. Her other hand fired a point-blank bolt at my chest, but her aim trembled.
No time to dodge.
I froze the air itself, crafting a jagged ice shield mid-air.
The lightning struck—and the shield shattered, but so did the attack's force. The blast still hurled me backward… but I willed my body to rotate, feet finding the wall behind me.
I stood sideways, feet anchored to the vertical surface, ice crackling under my soles. Blood dripped from my nose.
[It is impossible to resist the Lightning!]
[Level too high...]
.
.
.
I get it, I get it.
Just shut up.
I soon ignored the prompt, as I was quite amused.
She wasn't smiling anymore.
One hand clutched her shoulder, where the [Sky Slash]'s wings had ravaged her. "What are you?"
"Annoyed, I guess"
The woman's hands flared brighter, the room shuddering with voltage. Time to end this.
I shoved off the wall, leaping into open air. She fired a storm of lightning—but I froze the bolts mid-flight, turning her own energy into a lattice of conductive ice. My fingers closed around the frozen lightning… and I slammed it downward like a spear.
She dodged, but the ice pierced the floor, flooding the room with a vicious cold. The entire classroom glazed over, a single slick plane. She staggered, feet slipping—but I moved, center of gravity shifting with every step.
Her heel found purchase on a desk. She grinned, panting. "Predictable."
"Nah, I'd win" I snapped my fingers.
The ice beneath the desk melted.
She dropped like a stone, arms pinwheeling. I was already there, my frozen fist arcing toward her jaw—but she caught my wrist. Shit. Her grip burned, lightning searing my skin. I smelled charred flesh.
"Got you," she hissed.
I went limp.
Her eyes flashed confusion—until I yanked my center of gravity downward, collapsing like a puppet with cut strings. She overbalanced, stumbling forward… and my knee rocketed upward, ice-coated, into her gut.
She crashed through the blackboard, a comet of shattered ice and crumbling plaster. I stood, trembling, my right arm a ruined thing dangling at my side. The numbness crept back—not the Skill this time.
But it wasn't important, at the moment.
She laid half-buried, her lightning sputtering like a dying hearth.
Blood streaked her chin, yet her smile clung, sharp and unbroken.
"You… bastard," she coughed, fingers twitching weakly.
I should've felt triumph. Vindication. Instead, my gut coiled.
Too easy.
And she, the Usurper who'd danced through my storm… fell to this?
The classroom hummed with unnatural quiet. Frost gnawed at the walls. Corpses stared.
No.
Ice coalesced in my left palm, a spear forming—serrated, glinting with Authority. One thrust to pierce her throat, freeze her cursed soul mid-sneer.
Her eyes met mine. Laughing.
"You honestly think—"
The spear plunged.
—Through empty air.
Akari dissolved, not in light or smoke, but like a reflection wiped from glass. My weapon struck concrete, frost spiderwebbing outward.
"This was over?"
I whirled. Ice shards shot toward every shadow, every drip of blood. They shattered. Nothing. No heat signature. No mana ripple.
Just… gone.
Fuck.
No, it can't be.
I slammed my palm into the floor again, ice erupting in a wave, devouring desks, corpses, the very air.
Find her. Tear her out.
But the classroom offered only silence. Blood steamed under fresh frost.
She was probably never here.
The realization slithered in.
A puppet.
That's who I just, barely, defeated.
---
MC a menace this chapter, ngl.
Author's Note:
Hi, I know it's been a while.
Several issues, a little burnout, and the need to explore some new style of writing, all kept me from releasing this chapter fast.
What do you think, to those still interested in the novel?
I've always thought I wasn't using Akira's skillset to its full potential, so I figured I'd write a fight different from usual. How did I do? Is this better, or do you prefer how it was in the past?
If you want, please share your opinion. Any type is fine at this point lmao!