A roar split the sky.
Beneath the fury of a frozen storm, an ancient tree covered in frost glowed with a pale light. Snowflakes fell violently, driven by an impossible blizzard, and the air shattered with roars as two figures clashed.
On one side, the Hail King, a titan of ice, clad in living frost armor and wielding a primordial sword wrapped in chains of frozen soul.
On the other, a young man with eyes like extinguished embers—Jiro Kamimizu.
Or what was left of him.
Their weapons collided.
The impact was brutal.
A wave of Chi Tae energy burst from the collision point, splitting the sky, parting the clouds, shaking the world as if the very foundations of existence trembled.
The ground beneath them cracked like fractured glass. A cutting gale unleashed a frenzied dance of light and shadow. The Garden of Eden, covered in perpetual snow, quivered under the collision.
Jiro's eyes, empty, without warmth or expression, locked onto his opponent. His voice emerged, as cold as winter itself.
—What do you want from me…
Each word carried a rage that did not burn… but froze.
The Hail King stood firm, though his breath cracked like breaking ice.
—It's impressive… You are you… and yet you're not. That is not your soul, and yet… it belongs to you.
Jiro pulled away, sliding his spear with a subtle motion. His gaze showed no doubt. No pain. No humanity.
—I don't know what you're talking about. I don't care either. But if your problem isn't with me… then don't stand in my way.
The silence of the blizzard seemed to pause for an instant. Then, the Hail King pointed his sword at the young man, right in the middle of the ferocious wind, beneath the twisted shadow of the Glacier Tree.
—Then I have even more reason to claim your soul… and bind it to the frozen hell.
Jiro didn't respond immediately. His gaze drifted into the void, his neck shifting slightly as if something inside him creaked… and then, a thought pierced through him like a spear.
I don't know how I ended up here…
I can't understand what happened…
His breath faltered. An imperceptible tremor shook his body.
The last thing I remember is…
Voices.
Pain.
Noise.
A deep echo tore through his skull. Images flickered violently in his mind: him, holding the Stone of Rebirth. The temple of the neighboring clan. His henchmen watching. He was going to hand over the relic. Everything was clear…
Until it wasn't.
The Holy Sky? What happened…?
A sharp memory surged.
He was lying there. His body weak. A pool of frozen blood, and the deadly cold climbing up his back. His fingers still held the glowing stone… and in front of him, a figure. A woman. Blurred. Wrapped in shadows. A voice broken by betrayal:
—It wasn't personal, Xie Ming. But this was the only way… Maybe… you'll forget… I had no choice…
A Chi Tae energy sword gleamed for an instant, and the young man's eyes faded.
He came back to himself.
Jiro—or was it Xie Ming?—shuddered. His mind still burned with confusion.
I remember little… but I don't understand why…
I'll have to find the answers myself… I'll return to the Holy Sky. Maybe there… I'll understand everything…
Then, a chilling screech snapped him back to the present.
A legion of skeletal warriors, cloaked in ice and dead magic, emerged like a ghostly tide.
They flew on undead winged beasts, among silent screams that sliced through the air. The Hail King raised his hand, like an ancient god summoning his forgotten army.
But Jiro did not flinch.
He held his spear, and with the emptiest voice in the world, he murmured:
—I have some things to take care of first
The Hail King extended his arm.
—Come then
And he did.
Jiro unleashed all his crimson energy. The Chi Tae of electricity crackled like chained thunder, surrounding his body in a storm of uncontrollable lightning.
He lunged forward with such power that the world seemed to stop. His spear tore through the first line of undead as if they were paper.
One, two, dozens, hundreds…
Each strike was a crimson blast. Each step, a new storm. The skies roared. The earth wept. The Chi Tae energy vibrated uncontrollably as if the universe tried to contain it—and failed.
And then…
He descended.
The Garden of Eden shook when his spear touched the ground. A chilling silence filled the air. In the distance, thousands of frozen warriors charged toward him like an unstoppable plague.
Jiro raised his gaze.
—Is this all?
He dragged his spear through the snow. The ice evaporated. The clouds split.
And with a single movement…
The world shattered.
A wave of crimson Chi Tae power struck the battlefield, lifting the earth itself. The entire frozen army was thrown into the sky, like leaves carried by an unforgiving hurricane.
From the distant mountains, the frozen bodies could be seen dancing like falling stars before exploding into fragments.
The snow kept falling—but no longer touched Jiro.
Each flake dissolved before reaching his skin. The vapor from his body evaporated winter itself. The crimson Chi Tae still burned.
And before him, the Hail King watched, a hairline fracture in his chest… a feeling he hadn't known in centuries.
Fear?
—Your turn —said Jiro. And he pointed his spear at him.
But then...
The world blurred.
Jiro felt something strange. A presence dissolving within him. Consciousness faded like smoke between fingers. His glowing eyes suddenly dimmed. The crimson red vanished.
He was no longer Jiro.
He was… Keichi Xie Ming.
For a moment.
—I feel like I'm leaving—he whispered with an ancient voice, with a sadness beyond name.
And when he blinked…
Everything vanished.
Jiro dropped to his knees. His spear trembled in his hand. His breath grew weak. The storm continued… but inside him, only ashes remained.
—A moment? —he murmured, raising his gaze—. What happened… here?
The sky still roared, but inside him… silence was absolute.
The Hail King narrowed his eyes in silence, closely analyzing the atmosphere of the frozen field. His expression tensed slightly.
—Wait… his Chi Tae Energy's level has dropped… and this pressure… it's like before…
The flicker of power he had felt from Jiro had suddenly changed. It was no longer that overwhelming force that almost distorted the surroundings, but a more centered presence… more like the boy he had met at the beginning of the battle. Something had shifted.
Jiro, for his part, was breathing heavily, confused as he stared at his own hands and then at the spear between them. He looked around: the snowy sky, the frozen pillars, the wind howling in a distant echo. His body trembled for a moment.
—Where am I…? And the others…?
He raised his gaze, meeting the firm figure of the Hail King. He touched his chest… right where that brutal slash had pierced him with the primordial sword. But there was no trace of the wound. Not a scar. Nothing. As if the pain… had never existed.
—This just keeps getting weirder—he whispered to himself—. The last thing I remember is that cut… then… a dream. Paintings, figures, and then, I appeared here.
The Hail King took a step toward him, his sword glowing with an icy light. His gaze narrowed with suspicion.
—A Reincarnated…
And without warning, he launched toward Jiro. The wind exploded in his wake.
Jiro reacted with instinctive agility, leaping to the side and barely dodging. He spun and, with a firm tone, exclaimed:
—This isn't over yet! I haven't forgotten!
The King didn't respond with words, only with a cold fury that began to condense around him. His voice echoed like cracking ice.
—You didn't need to mention it…
He struck the ground with his feet, generating a stampede of ice pillars that rose one after another, covering vast areas of the Realm. The cold was so extreme it froze even the sound.
Jiro, without hesitation, leapt from one to another, climbing over the crystalline blocks, trying to keep up. But then, the Hail King vanished.
He reappeared in front of him in an instant. With a horizontal slash of his sword, he unleashed a cutting wave. Jiro barely dodged it, watching the wave tear through space, forming a dimensional rift that pulsed and closed as if nothing had happened.
—Whoa… that was close—he panted, a bead of cold sweat sliding down his temple—. Almost lost my head…
He focused his energy, summoning the Crimson Chi Tae of the Higetsu no Yari. The spear vibrated, expanding a reddish light along its blade. He prepared to counterattack.
But the King appeared in front of him again. He grabbed Jiro's head with brutal force and hurled him toward a colossal formation of icy ribs, as massive as mountains. They were the remains of the legendary World Dragon.
Jiro crashed into one of the ribs with a dry impact but got up, hurt, unleashing his Crimson Chi Tae in multiple slashes. These clashed violently against the blue rays of the Hail King's Chi Tae.
—I just want to help you! Understand! This doesn't have to end like this!—Jiro shouted between pants and blasts of energy, trying to reason while fighting.
But the Hail King silenced him with a sharp armored elbow strike.
—The other one wouldn't say that—
Jiro's body hit the frozen ground beneath the dragon's skeleton. He rose into the air, followed by the King, and both launched into the sky, exchanging a dance of brutal attacks with their primordial weapons.
The glacier sword, capable of cutting through space and time, clashed against the Crimson spear in a spectacle of light and power.
In a swift move, the King grabbed Jiro's hand, and they both teleported violently, crashing through ice blocks in a whirlwind of power. Jiro recovered with difficulty, panting.
—He's too fast, and tough. I can barely keep up…
Up above, suspended over the frozen skies, the Hail King looked toward the celestial void. His voice emerged like an existential monologue, harsh as the northern wind.
—Suffering is the chisel of divinity. Condemnation is merely an extension of the love the gods forgot. Punishment is remembrance… and in memory, there is pain. And pain, boy… is my home.
—In the eternal cold I feel now—said the King with his hands raised to the frozen sky—
He launched like a comet toward Jiro.
—Bring it on…!—shouted the Oni boy, his Crimson Chi Tae bursting from his hands, cracking the ground around him.
The impact was apocalyptic. They clashed violently, locking hands, releasing a shockwave that shattered the glacial floor. Everything shook… until, without warning, time stopped.
Reality turned to ashen gray.
From the skies descended a cloud of pink fire. On it stood Elliott, Ardan, and Saria. Elliott walked with determination as the cloud approached the time-frozen body of Jiro. On his shoulder, Guilo, the little time owl, watched everything silently.
Ardan, stunned, observed the frozen field.
—It's astonishing… you've absolutely stopped time… in the entire universe…
Elliott lifted Jiro carefully. His gaze was calculating, but in his mind, a truth raced like electric current:
—This was my plan… to stop time absolutely… and use the dimensional scroll so Jiro and the others can escape while everything is frozen…
He ran toward the cloud, where Saria and Ardan waited. But then, a chill filled the air. Vapor emerged from their mouths. Something was wrong.
—Master… I feel so cold…—Guilo said with a trembling voice.
Elliott froze. Something was pressing on him.
—No… it can't be…
He turned slowly. The Hail King, still gray, was beginning to regain color. A metallic, icy, and sinister voice echoed in his mind.
—No matter how much you stop time… in this universe, you can never escape… my Curse of the Refreshment…
Elliott watched in horror as the King grabbed his sword. Time… no longer affected him.
—The laws and Concepts of time… are insignificant before my Curse—he declared.
With a swift slash in the air, he shattered the very structure of time, the time that Elliott had stopped absolutely with Guilo's power. Everything resumed.
Saria raised her hands to her mouth.
—H-how… did he do that?
Jiro moved again, confused.
—Huh…? Wait… when did you guys get here… so fast?—Jiro reacted in surprise.
The Hail King charged at them. With a brutal blow, he hurled Elliott through the air, making him bleed.
—Elliott!!—Ardan screamed.
Guilo lunged in fury, but the Hail King froze him midair like a mere droplet. Saria descended, desperate.
—GUILOOO!!
The King pointed his sword at her. His voice was a sharp blade.
—You're in my way… girl…
—Leave her alone!—roared Jiro.
But before the King could strike her, Elliott snapped his fingers. In front of the King appeared the body of a beautiful young woman… frozen and veiled in frost. Motionless. Dead.
The King abruptly diverted his attack. For the first time, his face trembled.
Elliott, breathing heavily, murmured:
—Be careful… who you threaten…
The King took a step back. His voice came out as a torn roar.
—You bastard… Elliott!!!
Jiro, still stunned, asked:
—Who… is she?
Elliott lowered his gaze, as if he had just summoned a forbidden memory.
—She's… the Hail King's beloved… or rather… Frost's fiancée…
Pause.
—Lorraine… the witch.
The silence that followed was so deep… even the snow didn't dare fall.