The tension in the air was palpable as Rheon and Do-Yun stood at opposite ends of the training ground, the midday sun casting long shadows on the stone floor. The spectators—family members, elders, and guards—formed a loose circle around them, their expressions ranging from curiosity to concern.
Do-Yun smirked, his arrogance practically radiating off him. "Are you sure you don't want a handicap?" he asked, condescension dripping from his voice. "You might regret it later."
Rheon let out a slow breath, his face a picture of calm indifference. "A handicap?" He tilted his head slightly as if genuinely confused. "I thought I was already giving you one by agreeing to this spar."
A few quiet snickers came from the audience, but Do-Yun's smirk twitched.
Rheon continued, his voice steady and cutting. "I don't need a handicap to beat you. Your age means nothing if your skill is lacking. Honestly, the only thing impressive about you is your ability to delude yourself."
Do-Yun's smirk vanished, replaced by a flash of irritation.
Min-Sik and Hwan, watching from the sidelines, were hesitant about allowing the spar, given the eight-year age gap between the two. But Rheon had been firm. "He challenged me," he had said. "And I will never back down from a challenge."
Elder Seung-Ho had nodded approvingly, though he remained skeptical. "That's the kind of mentality an heir should have. But let's see if he can actually back it up."
Sang-Hoon, Rheon's grandfather, disagreed slightly. "You'll be surprised." His tone carried a quiet certainty that made Seung-Ho raise a brow. "I've seen him practice. The kid's full of surprises."
Hyun-Seok, Rheon's father, merely asked one thing. "Are you sure?"
Rheon gave a single nod. "Nah, I'd win". That was all he needed to say.
Hyun-Seok, backs away from his son, as the proctor, raised a hand. "Begin."
Do-Yun wasted no time. With a sharp inhale, he conjured multiple ice spikes, two of which he grabbed as makeshift weapons. His eyes flickered with confidence, expecting Rheon to react with awe or hesitation.
Instead, he was met with an impassive stare.
Rheon stood there, completely unbothered, his posture relaxed—too relaxed.
Do-Yun's eye twitched. That damn poker face.
Frustrated, he launched the ice spikes toward Rheon while charging forward, his weapons gleaming in the sunlight.
Rheon moved.
With a burst of cold energy, he activated Frozen Air Boost, dashing sideways at an almost unnatural speed, the ice spikes whizzing past where he had stood just a fraction of a second ago.
Do-Yun's irritation grew. "Stop running and fight me!" He conjured more ice spikes and hurled them forward.
Rheon dodged again. Then again. And again. Each movement was effortless, his body weaving through the attacks with precision.
"Is dodging the only thing you're good at, oh prodigal heir?" Do-Yun taunted.
Rheon, still expressionless, made a decision.
He stopped dodging.
The next ice spike Do-Yun threw hit him square in the chest. A sharp crack echoed in the air as the impact sent shards of ice scattering, but Rheon didn't even flinch. His Ice Skin ability had absorbed the impact, leaving him completely unharmed.
Do-Yun's eyes widened in disbelief.
"…What?"
Before he could react, Rheon launched himself forward.
Panic flashed across Do-Yun's face as he instinctively hurled more ice spikes, but this time—Rheon didn't just dodge them.
He batted them aside with his bare hands, the frozen projectiles shattering against his reinforced skin.
And then—he was there.
Do-Yun barely had time to lift his arms before Rheon's fist buried itself into his gut, forcing the air from his lungs in a choked gasp.
The next hit came before he could recover. A sharp strike to the ribs. A crushing blow to the shoulder. A spinning kick that sent him staggering back.
Do-Yun tried to retaliate, slashing at Rheon with his ice weapons, but every attempt was deflected with ease, as if Rheon could predict his every move before he even made them.
Each of Rheon's strikes was precise and merciless, his strength far exceeding what Do-Yun had expected.
Do-Yun's grunts turned into grimaces. Grimaces turned into full-blown winces of pain.
Finally, in a desperate attempt to regain control, he activated an area-wide attack, summoning a swirling blizzard of ice spikes around him.
Rheon stepped back, assessing the storm forming around Do-Yun.
Bruised, bleeding, and panting, Do-Yun grinned through his injuries. "How will you beat me now!" he sneered, "if you can't even get close to me!?"
Rheon exhaled slowly. A cold mist escaped his lips as he gazed at his opponent with unwavering confidence.
"You talk too much."
Then, he let Do-Yun experience why he was touted for his unparalleled affinity for cryokinesis awakened only at the age of five.
He took a step forward.
Ice bloomed from his feet.
The frost spread instantly, racing across the ground at unnatural speeds, freezing everything in its path.
Do-Yun's expression morphed from confidence to horror as the creeping ice caught up to him in seconds, climbing up his legs and encasing him from the waist down in a thick layer of frost.
Behind him, the frost erupted into a massive, jagged glacier, its sharp spires looming over him like frozen daggers, a crystalline executioner waiting to strike him down.
Do-Yun's breath hitched.
He turned his head ever so slowly, eyes widening as he saw the towering ice formation right behind him, sharp edges gleaming ominously in the light.
Then, as if his body finally processed the sheer difference in power between them—he lost consciousness.
Silence fell over the training ground.
Rheon watched, his face still unreadable, before melting the ice with a flick of his fingers, letting Do-Yun collapse onto the cold stone floor.
Then, without a word, he turned to his father.
"I win."