Sylvia stood motionless, taking in everything Riven had just told her. With her mask concealing any expression, he could only rely on the subtle cues in her posture. Her shoulders had tensed, just slightly, as if she were trying to make sense of how he would unleash that much power. He did not blame her for doubting. Even he wasn't certain he could reproduce the effect on command. But they had no alternatives. He would simply have to try.
He opened his mouth to say more, but Sylvia moved first.
Her hand rose to the rapier at her left hip, fingers closing around the hilt in a firm, deliberate grip. She turned toward him, the surface of her mask catching the faint light as she straightened her stance.
"Fine," she said. "I will trust your plan."
With a nod, Sylvia surged past him, her rapier gleaming at her side. As she moved, Riven heard a sharp crack behind them, a sound like glass splintering under pressure. Instinctively, he turned his head toward the source.
The hexagonal pillar of solid ice trembled violently. Fractures raced across its surface, webbing in rapid lines until the pillar could no longer hold. It shattered outward in a burst of frost and shards.
From within the collapsing mass, a fist-sized blue core flared to life, glowing with a fierce, pulsing light. Freed from its icy cacoon, the core shot forward in a streak of pale blue energy, hurtling toward the Quakefang.
As it traveled, frost swept across its surface. Ice crystallized around it in thick layers, growing and shaping itself with impossible speed. What started as a glowing orb became a forming outline of armor, then limbs, then a towering silhouette.
Within seconds, the core vanished inside a fully forged figure.
A ten-foot Ice Knight slammed onto the battlefield, landing with a crack that sent frost crawling across the ground. Its massive great sword of solid ice materialized in its grip, mist curling around the blade's edges.
The knight charged without hesitation, meeting the Quakefang head-on. Its great sword swung in sweeping arcs, each strike carving pale, icy lines across the serpent's rocky hide. Shards of frost scattered with every impact, the air swirling with cold as beast clashed with beast.
Even with the underwhelming damage, it had the desired effect. The Quackefang let out a gravelly hiss and lunged at the knight, slamming into it with brutal force. The collision sent out a concussive wave of air, and the knight shattered into icy fragments.
Riven didn't flinch. He knew the beast wouldn't die unless its core was destroyed. True enough, the fragments hung in the air, trembling, then slowly drifted back toward each other like a reversed explosion. The knight reformed, piece by piece.
Still, concern edged into Riven's thoughts. Will they hold out long enough?
He shook his head. No. Now's not the time to doubt them.
Pushing aside the gnawing worry, Riven turned his attention to the battlefield. He needed a mana conduit—and fast.
The estate was a wreck. What was once a pristine garden woven with stone paths and lush greenery was now a scarred wasteland. Torn-up soil, shattered hedges, and streaks of dark, crusted red were scattered across the grounds. Jagged stone spikes jutted from the earth where the Quackefang had passed, ripping apart the carefully maintained paths. Parts of the mansion's outer walls lay in rubble, likely crushed beneath the shockwaves of battle.
Amid the debris, something glinted.
Riven darted over, his boots crunching against gravel and broken stone. A half-buried piece of metal caught the sunlight—it was the front half of a sword. He reached down, gripping the hilt, and pulled.
Stone gave way with a grinding scrape as the weapon emerged—an entire blade, surprisingly intact. The metal gleamed a cool gray, its surface unmarred despite the chaos. The leather wrapping on the hilt was tight and well-maintained, and though it bore no crest or insignia, the craftsmanship was familiar. It reminded him of the broken kusarigama he'd once held.
A small smile tugged at his lips.
He raised the blade above his head, inspecting its balance, the way the light danced along its edge. Taking in a deep breath, he closed his eyes and sank into his soul space.