Ice Sword Force
The mages could only gape in stunned, horrified silence as the woman's headless body crumpled to the ground with a sickening thud, a ever-widening pool of crimson quickly blossoming outwards to stain the earth beneath her lifeless form.
To Gladius, however, the act of ending the mage's life weighed no heavier on his conscience than swatting a mere insect. It mattered not that she had been beautiful, or that she had come from an extinguished background – the moment she dared to treat him as a servant, to be used and discarded on a whim, she had forfeited any right to mercy or quarter.
There would be no more holding back, no more playing by their rules or acceding to their arrogant demands.
Gladius would not allow these mages a moment to comprehend the magnitude of what had just transpired, to gather their wits and retaliate.
Only a fool wastes words when the circumstances are stacked against them. When Gladius knew the correct course of action, his sword would slash towards the answer without the slightest hesitation.
In that very moment after the woman mage's life was extinguished, Gladius swiftly plunged his sword into the ground with a resonating thud.
The earth shattered around the blade, the sheer force behind the strike easily enough to cleave through the packed dirt and into the very soul of the land itself.
An icy wave of bitter cold began to rapidly flow outwards from Gladius's body, his soul reaching out as a smooth stream to attune with the world around him. He didn't just connect with the worldly Sword Force – he manipulated it, bending and shaping it into a frigid torrent that exuded a terrifying chill.
The worldly force of Ice Mana seamlessly converged with the Sword Force, specks of frost and ice particles beginning to glisten across the length of Gladius's spirit sword.
In that single, breathtaking moment, the temperature plunged down to terrifying depths, an oppressive atmosphere of frost engulfing the entire area in its frigid embrace.
"This...?!" The mages were startled, no – they were downright horrified!
A terrifyingly cold power, eerily similar to that of true Ice Mana, was howling outwards from Gladius's very being. And this icy force also exuded a deadly, razor-sharp edge, as if it were a blade of frost capable of cutting through anything it pleased.
Gladius's Ice Sword was already exuding its frozen might when the mages finally came to their senses, snapping out of their stupor only to be confronted by a new, unthinkable threat.
The spirit sword wildly pulsated, blasting out a wave of icy sword energy that washed over the group with the force of an arctic gale.
Gladius was utterly focused, pouring a tremendous amount of energy from deep within himself into the spirit sword, while also continuously drawing upon the worldly Ice Sword Force and channeling it into his body in an unbroken stream.
The icy sword energy scaled across the ground at blinding speeds, a creeping frost that seemed to leech the very warmth from the air itself.
With an immense surge of danger erupting through their senses, the mages wanted nothing more than to move, to flee, on pure instinct. But this freezing atmosphere was too immense, too overwhelming – their very breaths emerged as frosty plumes, the extreme cold like a physical weight crashing down upon their bodies, robbing them of the ability to so much as twitch.
It was this brief lapse of focus, this momentary hesitation, that cost them everything.
The mages, from the Ember Forge contingent to the two remaining Gale Academy mages, suddenly felt a piercing cold engulf their legs without warning. None of them could react, their heightened Mana perception proving woefully inadequate, far too sluggish, and inferior to the sheer speed at which Gladius could summon and wield his icy sword energy.
It dearly cost them.
Their legs were encased in jagged pieces of frozen sword energy before they could so much as blink – the weaker mages nearly had their entire limbs frozen solid, while the leader of the Ember Forge group and the remaining Gale mages only had parts of their legs trapped within the unyielding ice.
Under normal circumstances, other mages would have needed a moment to catch their breath, their bodies running on the ragged edge of exhaustion after channeling and expending so much raw Mana. There would be a need to calm their turbulent flow of ethereal energy, to regain their bearings, and steel their focus in order to correctly manipulate their Mana once more.
These frantic thoughts were undoubtedly swirling through the mages' minds as they struggled to calm themselves, to find their center amidst the chaos that had erupted all around them.
It would have been completely realistic, expected even, for Gladius to take a respite after slaying the woman mage and unleashing this devastating ice attack – whatever energy he was wielding, surely he would need to rest, to allow himself a moment's reprieve lest he becomes exhausted and make himself vulnerable.
But Gladius did not know the meaning of the words 'rest' or 'hesitation.'
He wrenched his spirit sword free from the earth with a sharp tug, the blade seeming to thrum with pent-up power as he slashed it through the air once more.
A radiant glow of razor-sharp silver illuminated the area, the brilliant luminescence causing the mages to flinch as a new wave of cold despair threatened to overwhelm their senses.
Gladius slashed his spirit sword in a sweeping arc toward the lanky Ember Forge mage, the blade trailing streaks of icy fury as it soared forward with the unstoppable momentum of an executioner's blade, hungering to reap another life.
"Ah–die!!"
The mages all reacted with violent desperation, their minds finally snapping back into the harsh reality of their predicament. They couldn't truly perceive Gladius's sword, the slash too fast to track – a mere blur of silver death to their panicked gazes. But they could react on instinct, primal survival kicking in with the force of a tidal wave.
All the lanky mage could muster was to cause streams of Fire Mana to vibrate forth from his magical staff, a last-ditch effort to unleash a counterattack fueled by sheer, mindless adrenaline. But he was far too sluggish, too slow to mount any meaningful defense.
The other mages surrounding him, however, managed to point their staves towards Gladius, rays of potent Mana swirling at the tips with the force of a roiling maelstrom.
Searing flames howled forth from the Ember Forge mages' foci in a torrent of unbridled fury, while the remaining two Gale Academy mages unleashed sharp waves of compressed air bolstered by their Wind Mana.
These airwaves carried enough raw force to tear through trees and boulders alike, a devastating combination of elemental fury and brute kinetic power.
There was no fancy strategy, no grand plan or moment of tactical brilliance. This was pure, unbridled Mana power unleashed in a desperate, final bid to halt Gladius's unstoppable advance – a last, futile grasp at self-preservation in the face of overwhelming might.
Gladius's expression didn't so much as twitch, his face an impassive mask of eerie calm. His spirit sword slashed out with casual ease, the glowing strike effortlessly tearing through the waves of ravenous flame conjured by the Ember Forge mages, the blazing inferno parting before his icy blade like the meanest of illusions.
As for the two waves of compressed air that barreled towards him with lethal intensity, Gladius simply allowed his body to shift trajectories in that same fluid motion, his feet carrying him around the deadly funnels with an almost ethereal lightness and grace.
He could feel the worldly force of the air itself – that smooth, ever-flowing torrent that whispered through every infinitesimal crevice and pore of existence.
Relying on his instinctive attunement to that intangible sensation, Gladius smoothly evaded the compressed airwaves, his steps quick and light, as if he were treading upon the invisible currents themselves.
In truth, this was Gladius's first time engaging in such intricate movements, yet with his heightened sword sense and the profound comprehension that continued to blossom within the crucible of battle, it all came as naturally to him as breathing.
His spirit sword lashed out once more, an inescapable thrust of frozen death.
'Chi!'
Blood sprayed wildly into the air, another decapitated head was sent tumbling in a grotesque arc as the lanky mage's neck erupted in a sickening geyser of crimson vitae.
Another life extinguished, and Gladius was already in motion again, his tread as light as a zephyr's whisper as he closed the distance towards his next targets. His speed seemed to increase with every heartbeat, his blade gleaming with a blinding radiance that seared the eyes of any foolish enough to look upon it directly.
He slashed out twice in rapid succession, the twin strikes seeming to blur into a single, seamless motion to untrained eyes.
'Chi! Chi!'
Two more geysers of blood erupted skyward, painting the air in a macabre crimson mist.
The short Ember Forge mage and the remaining Gale Academy mage were both cleanly decapitated, their lives snuffed out before they could so much as register the lethal bite of Gladius's sword, their headless corpses crumpling to the ground in unceremonious heaps.
Four dead, and only two remained.