Pedro staggered, hunched over, clutching his stomach where the spear had struck. Blood trickled down from the corners of his mouth as he gasped for breath.
"Why, why did you do this to me? What did I do?"
His voice was tinged with disbelief, almost as if he still couldn't grasp the gravity of his situation.
"You accused my dear Nii-ni of something he didn't do." Amelia's voice rang out, icy and unwavering.
Both the General of Famine and Pedro froze, their eyes widening. It was as if the air had thickened, amplifying the weight of her words.
"Surprised? You should be. I told you — nobody touches anything related to my beloved Nii-ni without it going unpunished."
As the words settled, a palpable tension filled the scene. The General of Famine finally realized that Amelia wasn't just any ordinary adversary, and Pedro was starting to understand that he had committed an unforgivable sin.
"Get ready, both of you, today you die."
Both Pedro and the General of Famine understood that Amelia's words, which hung like a death sentence, left no room for interpretation and offered no quarter.
In this desperate situation, Pedro locked eyes with the General Famine. With a broken sword and waning strength, there was no way he could stand against Amelia alone. It was a bitter irony, but at this moment, his best chance for survival lay with the enemy he had just been battling. He shot the General a look — a quick, significant glance that said, "Stay ready and follow me."
Taking the first step, Pedro lunged at Amelia, chanting, "Ice Spear!" As he did, a frozen projectile materialized in his hand, soaring through the air toward Amelia.
Amelia's response was almost poetic — a fluid dodge that showcased her innate agility and battle acumen. As she sidestepped, the spear whizzed past her, grazing a few strands of her vibrant red hair. Her eyes narrowed, an intense fury flickering within.
"That's how you do it, you idiot!"
Just as Amelia counterattacked with her "Ice Spear," the General of Famine swung his blade in a sharp arc, intercepting the projectile. The icy spear shattered upon impact, its remnants falling like glass shards.
For the first time in this conflict, the General unsheathed his most potent weapon — Maugrim, the Mana Drinker. The blade possessed an eerie sheen as if imbued with darkness that swallowed the surrounding light. The sword had the unique ability to absorb mana from any magical attack it came in contact with, growing stronger with each absorption.
The atmosphere grew tense as Maugrim, the Mana Drinker, revealed its devastating power. Slowly but surely, the icy battlefield started to thaw, its wintry visage giving way to a soggy marsh. Mana seemed to evaporate from the air, the sword devouring it with an insatiable hunger. Ice flakes transformed into droplets as mist spiraled away into nothingness, and even the frost underfoot began to seep into the ground as water. The sword functioned like a vortex, drawing all ambient mana into itself, leaving the arena drained of its magical essence.
Seizing the fleeting opportunity, Pedro lunged at Amelia with newfound determination. He gripped his broken sword tightly, its jagged edge glinting in the fading light, and swung at her with all his might.
However, Amelia's combat skills weren't merely a function of her mana. With a dismissive flick of her wrist, she sidestepped his clumsy assault. Her eyes met his, cold and unforgiving as she easily dodged another of his desperate swipes. Her movements were a dance of utter disdain, each step a calculated humiliation for Pedro.
Finally, she deftly kicked the broken sword from Pedro's trembling hands, sending it spiraling away into the distance. Even without her magical abilities, her combat prowess was formidable — a product of endless training and an indomitable will.
"Haven't you realized yet? Mana or no mana, you're still no match for me."
With a confident stride, General Famine lunged toward Amelia, the Maugrim sword gleaming ominously. It was as if the sword yearned for battle, its dark blade pulsing with absorbed mana.
Yet, Amelia stood her ground. Clenching her fists, she checked every bit the Famine, ready to meet steel with flesh and bone.
Their eyes met for a fleeting moment, a spark of tension igniting the air before they clashed.
General Famine swung the Maugrim in a wide arc, its blade screaming through the air. But Amelia was faster. She ducked effortlessly under the blade and landed a solid punch on Famine's midsection. The General staggered, not expecting her to be this formidable without magic.
Quickly regaining his footing, General Famine thrust his sword forward in a jab aimed at her heart. Amelia sidestepped, narrowly avoiding the blade, and countered with a spinning kick that landed on Famine's shoulder, pushing him back. Her movements were fluid, each action leading into the next like a well-choreographed dance of war.
Famine growled, frustrated. He unleashed a series of rapid slashes, each one aimed to kill. Amelia dodged, parried with her forearms, and deflected, showing no signs of tiring. It was a battle of attrition, and she gained the upper hand.
Finally, seeing an opening, Amelia lunged forward and landed a square punch on Famine's face. He stumbled several steps, and his grip on Maugrim faltered.
She paused for a moment, looking down at the defeated General. Her eyes were like ice chips, cold but filled with an inner fire.
"Do you understand now? You can't tip the scales, even your toy, in your favor."
With an air of finality, Amelia whispered, "Frosty Zone." The atmosphere rippled, and a colossal bubble of sheer magical power formed around them.
In invoking the "Frosty Zone," Amelia wasn't merely casting a spell but establishing a pocket dimension, a territory separate from the existing world where her will reigned supreme. Inside this alternate space, she was no mere magician. She was a sovereign of mana, wielding her icy dominion with unmatched finesse.
The Frosty Zone operated under its laws, which Amelia herself defined. She could channel and intensify the flow of mana to such a degree that even beings as powerful as Famine found it overwhelming, unable to maintain their balance or muster any counter-magic.
And it wasn't just the manipulation of mana that granted Amelia control. Every ice spire, every frozen wall, and even the air within the Frosty Zone bent to her whims. This territory was an extension of her essence, an icy microcosm where she dictated the thermodynamics, the flow of magical energy, and even the passage of time if she wished.
This level of mastery was a testament to her capabilities, making Frosty Zone far more than a spell — it was a realm where Amelia embodied the very laws of magic and nature. As long as one stepped foot in it, they were merely visitors in Amelia's frigid kingdom, wholly subject to her icy rule.
The air inside shimmered with palpable energy, so concentrated that even the mana-draining Maugrim seemed like a pebble facing a tsunami.
But what came next was nothing short of awe-inspiring. With a sweep of her hand, towering walls of intricate ice began to rise, assembling themselves into turrets and spires as if summoned by an unseen architect.
The air filled with the sounds of grinding and snapping ice, an otherworldly symphony that played in rhythm with Amelia's rising power. Within seconds, a massive castle of pure ice stood before them, reflecting the ambient light in a spectral dance of color and shadow.
Just when it seemed like the end for Pedro and Famine, an ethereal voice echoed through the icy fortress. "It's not time for them to die yet..."
From the castle's depths emerged a figure, its form almost entirely white and inhuman, like a being carved from the same frozen world Amelia had created.
In a blink, faster than anyone could react, the figure enveloped Pedro and Famine in a whirlwind of blinding light. They vanished, spirited away from Amelia's frosty domain.
Caught off guard and disbelieving, Amelia clenched her fists. With a reluctant wave, the Frosty Zone dissipated, its icy walls and turrets melting into a cascade of shimmering droplets that vanished before they hit the ground.
"Next time, Pedro, I will kill you without mercy."