An Ice Flower I

Seraphina swung her sword in a graceful arc, the air around her shimmering with the bloom of snow plum blossoms that erupted from the blade's tip. The blossoms spiraled toward her uncle with an elegant yet lethal precision.

Li countered effortlessly, his sword rising to meet her attack with a practiced fluidity. The clash of blades echoed like distant thunder in the quiet courtyard. Seraphina furrowed her brows, stepping back to regroup before launching another strike. This time, the blossoms carried a violet hue, suffused with the power of the Violet Mist Divine Art—a Grade 6 technique of the Mount Hua sect. The movement was aptly named Violet Sunset Genesis.

Li's sword met the attack head-on, the blossoms dissipating as his blade held firm. He smiled, nodding in approval.

"You've improved, Sera," he said sincerely, his voice warm with pride. Seraphina had grown significantly, stepping into mid Integration-rank and achieving Sword Resonance—a feat that many would take years longer to accomplish.

Not only that, but her unique evolution of Mount Hua's plum blossoms, infused with her ice mana, was already reaching the same level of refinement as Li's own lightning-infused blossoms. It was a remarkable accomplishment, especially given the vast difference in their levels.

"She's a genius," Li thought, his eyes gleaming with admiration. At this pace, Seraphina could very well achieve Ascendant-rank before finishing her sixth year at Mythos Academy. This generation was shaping up to be unparalleled, their talents so extraordinary they would leave their predecessors in the dust. It was a future Li looked forward to witnessing.

As the bout ended, an attendant approached Seraphina, handing her a towel. She wiped the sweat from her brow, her crystalline blue eyes thoughtful.

"Uncle," she began, her voice soft yet purposeful.

"Yes, Sera?" Li replied, his tone as fond as ever.

Seraphina hesitated for a moment, clutching the towel tightly. "For my birthday," she said, her words quiet but steady, "I want to... I want to share that moment with Arthur."

Li froze for a brief second before exhaling deeply, his expression unreadable. He didn't need her to elaborate. She was growing up, stepping into a new stage of life and love. It was a moment both inevitable and bittersweet.

He smiled at her, nodding with quiet understanding. "Then, Sera, make sure it's a day you'll both remember."

"Then... Father..." Seraphina began hesitantly, her voice trembling slightly. Li's face scrunched at the mention, his usual warmth giving way to a flicker of unease. The relationship between Mo Zenith and Seraphina was as fractured as glass—a bond riddled with cracks that neither seemed willing, or perhaps able, to mend.

Mo Zenith loved his daughter fiercely, of that Li was certain. But love without action, without expression, was like a blade left sheathed—it failed to fulfill its purpose. Mo's heart was consumed, not by indifference, but by an unrelenting drive. And now, on the frontlines of the war against the vampires, Mo was the East's bulwark, the very reason it hadn't fallen entirely to chaos. Yet his presence on the battlefield only deepened the void between him and Seraphina.

Li sighed, his hand tightening into a fist. He had always been aware of the misunderstandings between his niece and brother, but he had deliberately kept his distance. It wasn't his place, or so he told himself. He wasn't particularly close to Mo—not as brothers should be—and that distance made him hesitant to intervene in a matter so personal.

'I wish my idiot brother could just be honest with her,' Li thought, frustration flickering in his eyes. 

He understood Mo's silence, even if he didn't condone it. The two of them had been raised as princes of Mount Hua, bearing the weight of its traditions and pride. Mount Hua's legacy was etched into their very beings, and Mo carried it more zealously than anyone. To him, Mount Hua was not just a home; it was a cause, a mantle of perfection that demanded unwavering dedication.

And that pride had been shattered.

Years ago, Magnus Draykar had utterly crushed Mo Zenith—not just through sheer rank and power, but by dismantling the very techniques that defined Mount Hua. Magnus had trampled the sect's proudest art, its most exalted technique, with a precision that was almost surgical. It was a humiliation that burned brighter than any wound, and Mo had never recovered from it.

That humiliation consumed him. It drove him, sharpening his focus into an obsession: to surpass Magnus Draykar, to reclaim the honor he felt he had lost. 

That was why he had adopted Sun Zenith. Mo wasn't just searching for redemption for himself—he was hunting for talent, for someone who could carry the torch of Mount Hua's legacy and burn brighter than even its past glories.

But in his relentless pursuit, Mo had pushed Seraphina further away. He had buried his love for her beneath layers of duty and pride, until all she could see was the man who seemed too distant, too cold.

Li exhaled, his gaze softening as he looked at Seraphina. She didn't say anything more about her father, but her unspoken words hung heavy in the air. If only Mo could see her, truly see her—not as a part of Mount Hua's future, but as his daughter.

"He loves you, Sera," Li said at last, his tone gentle but firm. "He just doesn't know how to show it." 

Seraphina's lips pressed into a thin line, and she said nothing. Her silence spoke volumes.

"You should think about Arthur, Sera," Li said, smoothly steering the conversation to safer waters. Seraphina's expression brightened immediately, her lips curling into a smile that could have melted the frost on the plum blossoms. Li chuckled softly to himself. His niece, usually as stoic as a mountain in winter, wore her heart on her sleeve whenever Arthur Nightingale's name was mentioned.

Li didn't share the apprehension of others when it came to Arthur marrying multiple princesses. In the Eastern Continent, such arrangements weren't unheard of, especially among figures of great prominence and power. But more than tradition, what made Li so accepting was the man himself. 

Arthur Nightingale wasn't just some brash, ambitious youth. He was the kind of man who, when he made a promise, would cleave through mountains to keep it. In Li's eyes, Arthur had already proven himself many times over. He had been there for Seraphina when she was at her most vulnerable, healing the wounds no one else could see. He had stood by her, shielded her, and brought out a side of her that even Li hadn't known existed.

Arthur wasn't merely protective—he was strong, a rare talent whose potential seemed boundless. Yet for all his strength, his humility and unwavering loyalty to Seraphina set him apart. Li had no doubt that Arthur would move heaven and earth for her, and that was all he needed to know.

'Perfect,' Li thought with a quiet nod. 'There's nothing about that boy I dislike.' 

But then, a mischievous glint sparked in his eye as another thought struck him. 'That doesn't mean I'll make it easy for him when the time comes to propose.'

He smiled darkly, a stark contrast to his usual warmth. It was the kind of smile that sent chills down the spines of his disciples. As much as he admired Arthur, Li also believed in the importance of tradition. A prospective husband for Seraphina, a princess of the Zenith family of Mount Hua sect and Li's cherished niece, should have to earn his blessing in the most spectacular fashion.

After all, a good master doesn't simply hand things over. He makes his student sweat, stumble, and triumph. And if that meant making Arthur's proposal a tad more challenging, so be it.

"Seraphina," he said, his tone light and teasing, "do you think Arthur has what it takes to convince me?"

Her gaze sharpened, but the corners of her lips twitched upward. "Uncle, you know he does."

Li laughed heartily, his hands resting on his hips. "Good answer, Sera. But let's see if he can prove it when the time comes."