Chapter 197: Sit Enthroned Upon the Frozen Heavens, Hyōrinmaru!
"Brother!!"
Ling's cry fractured into a sob, the sound torn from her throat as her heart threatened to hammer its way out of her chest. For one terrifying, suspended moment, she truly believed Wise was gone. An immense, paralyzing fear seized her.
Fortunately, in the split second before impact, a golden light flared to life around Wise. An impossibly solid Jade Shield materialized, shimmering with Geo power. Though it buckled violently under the force of the blow, it held firm, absorbing the vast majority of the impact.
Wise himself was more startled than anything else. He felt a jarring shock as his body hit the ground, but he was not seriously injured. He found himself leaning against a jagged rock spire at the edge of the battlefield, panting heavily, his face a shade paler than usual. In that instant, he had felt the cold shadow of death brush past him.
"There is no need for panic," Zhongli's calm, steady voice cut through the chaos, soothing the frayed edges of Ling's near-hysterical state. "The Jade Shield is more than sufficient to protect him. Wise, engaging an enemy of this scale in close-quarters combat is still premature for you. It would be best to use the power of your flames. Attack its weak points and destroy its foundation."
His initial shock beginning to recede, Wise heard Zhongli's counsel. He took a deep, steadying breath and nodded vigorously. He had been reckless, he realized. He hadn't anticipated that a creature as massive as Nikador could move with such explosive speed. This battle wasn't just a fight against a monster; it was a brutal test of every lesson he and his sister had learned, a trial that carried extraordinary weight.
Seeing this, a thought stirred in Zhongli's mind. The Geo constructs dotting the military camp's center pulsed with a brighter, more intense light, their suppressive field pressing down on Nikador until the great beast could barely twitch. The pressure bought Wise precious seconds to catch his breath and recalibrate.
A moment later, Zhongli eased the suppression just enough, and the battle resumed.
This time, Wise adopted a new strategy.
He abandoned any thought of close combat, instead weaving between the towering rock spires that formed the array. The Fire-Woven ribbons on his arms seemed to dance, channeling raw pyro energy into his palms. He began forming highly compressed, searingly hot orbs of purple flame, one after another.
Acting like a precise sniper, Wise began targeting Nikador's joints—its massive knees, its powerful elbows, the thick column of its neck.
Ling, however, was thoroughly enraged.
The image of her brother being sent flying like a ragdoll was burned into her mind, a vision that had utterly incinerated her fear of large monsters and replaced it with a raging inferno.
She gripped Hyōrinmaru so tightly her knuckles turned white. Holding back was no longer an option. She swung wildly, pouring every ounce of her fury into the blade.
One razor-sharp blade of ice after another swept towards Nikador in a howling blizzard, carving countless ice-blue slash marks into its stone armor. The extreme cold spread like a contagion, clinging to the monster and drastically slowing its movements.
Her anger and worry transformed into a potent fuel, her attacks growing faster, fiercer, and more relentless with every passing second.
Hyōrinmaru itself seemed to sense its master's indomitable will. The blade began to hum, emitting an even more astonishing aura of cold that chilled the very air.
In the midst of this frantic assault, Ling felt a sudden, deep clarity—an epiphany. A deep, resonant incantation surfaced in her mind, and she involuntarily chanted it aloud. Her voice was clear and firm, ringing with the power of an obvious law.
"Sit enthroned upon the frozen heavens! Hyōrinmaru!"
The Zanpakutō erupted with an unmatched, brilliant blue light. For a fleeting instant, a flash of that same ice-blue light seemed to pass through Ling's own eyes.
She poured every last drop of her strength into a final, ultimate attack, aimed squarely at the monstrous form of Nikador, which was already being continuously bombarded by Wise's concentrated fireballs.
This time, what she unleashed was not a mere blade of cold. It was a lifelike ice dragon, sculpted entirely from absolute zero.
The colossal dragon threw its head back and let out a silent, sky-shattering roar, its form radiating a terrifying power that promised to freeze all of creation. It opened its massive crystalline maw and, in a single, fluid motion, completely devoured the enormous Nikador.
Rumble—!
A violent burst of glacial energy erupted from the point of impact, a chaotic storm of smoke, steam, and ice mist.
When the world finally settled, there, in the center of the old military camp, the arrogant mad king Nikador stood frozen solid—a gigantic, magnificent ice sculpture, its form captured forever in a posture of struggle and rage.
Centered on the statue, the ground for more than twenty meters in every direction was coated in a thick layer of solid, crystalline ice. The battlefield had been instantly transformed into a vision of an extreme ice hell.
After unleashing that devastating blow, Ling felt as if all her strength had been siphoned away in an instant. Her legs turned to jelly, and she nearly collapsed onto the ground.
"Ling!" Wise exclaimed, not even having the time to be surprised by his sister's sudden, terrifying burst of power. He rushed to her side immediately, his arms wrapping around her to steadily support her exhausted frame. His face was a mask of worry and lingering fear.
"That was too reckless, Ling!" His voice was urgent as he looked at her pale face and listened to her rapid, shallow breaths. A pang of heartache warred with the remnants of his earlier terror. "How do you feel? Are you hurt anywhere?"
He immediately looked up at the steady, mountain-like figure of Zhongli. "Mr. Zhongli, please, come check on Ling!"
Zhongli slowly stepped forward. A soft, vibrant emerald light bloomed at his fingertip as he gently touched Ling's forehead. A warm, peaceful energy flowed into her body like a gentle stream, rapidly nourishing her depleted reserves and soothing her weary spirit.
"It is nothing," Zhongli said, withdrawing his hand, his tone as calm as ever. "She has merely overexerted her power and is suffering from fatigue. I have cast a small restorative ward on her, which will hasten her recovery. After a short rest, she will be fine."
He turned his gaze to the completely frozen Nikador, and a hint of approval flashed in his ancient, golden eyes. "However, it seems Ling has gained much from this. She has broken through her own limitations in the heat of battle."
Hearing Zhongli's diagnosis, Wise's tense nerves finally uncoiled, and he let out a long, shaky sigh of relief. For him, while growing stronger was important, his sister's safety would always be paramount.
He made a silent vow. He would never be so reckless in a fight again. He had to be more cautious. He had to protect Ling.
At that moment, Ling, having caught her breath, could finally speak. That last attack had drained her so completely she hadn't even had the strength to form words.
She gave a slightly embarrassed smile, her voice still weak. "Oh, brother, I'm really fine! I was just... so angry! That big guy actually dared to send you flying! And look," she added, a hint of her usual pride returning to her face, "I think I've achieved Shikai! Hyōrinmaru has become even more powerful!"
But when she saw that Wise's face held no trace of a smile, only a lingering seriousness and fear, Ling's voice gradually trailed off.
She obediently relented. "Alright, alright, I know I was wrong... I promise I won't be so impulsive next time. I'll always act within my limits."
Zhongli no longer paid them any mind. His gaze remained fixed on the gigantic ice sculpture.
He frowned slightly, his voice dropping low. "However, Nikador has not been eliminated. A more powerful force is re-forming and gathering beneath the ice. Do you... wish to continue?"
Upon hearing this, Ling immediately looked at Wise, entrusting the decision entirely to her brother.
Wise's brows were drawn into a tight line, his gaze flickering between the ominously radiating ice sculpture and his sister.
Reason told him that withdrawing from the battlefield now was the safest choice.
But another voice echoed in his mind. This was a rare opportunity for true combat experience, the kind of very useful trial that could only be gained by fighting a genuinely strong enemy to the bitter end. It was a necessary crucible for them to grow stronger. Retreating once might mean they would never be able to overcome this inner obstacle.
After a long, tense moment of thought, the uncertainty in Wise's eyes hardened into resolve.
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