"Let's try this," Belial muttered, drawing a small magic circle with a flick of his claw.
What started as a fist-sized rune quickly expanded into a glowing structure dozens of meters wide, covering every nearby creature. Ice spikes erupted from the ground, piercing the beasts before locking their bodies in crystal-clear frost.
A moment later, a chilling wind shattered them like glass. He absorbed their magic as usual.
The way they died? It matched exactly what had happened with his breath. But this time, it hadn't been a breath attack.
It wasn't even a spell built to cause explosive death. That meant the issue wasn't the spell, it was the ice itself.
So, all his ice powers now had this built-in destructive effect? That seemed to be the case. Both the breath and the spell came from the same source: the shard he had devoured.
It wasn't just a boost in elemental power, it had transformed the very nature of his ice. He kept testing, just to be sure.
Each time he used his ice abilities to kill, the magic inside the beast, what little remained, seemed to bond with his ice. When the frost faded, those mana fragments didn't vanish.
They flowed back to him, drawn in with the rest of the energy like loyal soldiers coming home from battle. The cost to him was tiny, but the gains were real.
With that realization, his thoughts started turning toward larger possibilities. His energy field could absorb mana, as long as it didn't have an owner.
But if he killed that owner first? That mana was fair game. And his breath? It covered a much wider area than his field ever could.
It wasn't just a tool, it was a hunter's net. One blast, one kill, and the mana came rushing back like a boomerang that brought presents.
It was like calling a cab and making the driver pay you.
So what did that mean?
"If I let loose… nonstop breath… weave the magic into the snow itself…"
He imagined it: casting wide, using his full strength, letting the storm run wild. The snow would fall endlessly, charged with his power, blanketing the land in death.
Not just some attack, but a catastrophe. An unnatural winter. Anything with an ice affinity would be helpless.
No one would survive. Even their bodies wouldn't remain, just snow-covered wreckage and silence. He wouldn't even need to do anything after that.
Just start the chain reaction and let it spiral. The storm would eat the world alive. And every frozen speck of life within would feed him.
They'd fall, one by one, slowly and painfully, like being peeled by a blunt blade. No shield could block it. This wasn't about physical defense, it was something deeper.
The ice carried a hidden trait. It ignored resistance, slipped into everything, and destroyed it from the inside out. True damage.
And to make it happen? All he needed was a push. One final straw, and everything would unravel. After that, the world would handle the rest.
The storm would do the killing. He'd just sit back and enjoy the ride.
"…That's a little too terrifying." Belial forced himself to step back from the edge. The urge pulsed in his chest, aching to be unleashed, but he clamped down on it.
First, he wasn't trying to wipe out all life. Sure, harvesting energy was fine, but he wasn't out to dig up the roots of the world and burn the forest down.
That was overkill, literally. It was the kind of evil that left nothing behind. Like torching a house just to light a candle.
Second, using that much power would draw attention. The kind he didn't want. Someone strong would come for him, whether to protect the world or claim his power. Either way, it meant trouble.
He didn't know how deep this world went. That shard alone had changed him so drastically.
Who had sealed it? Why had it been broken? The chains around it hadn't been natural. Someone had done that. And if they were still around… well, best not to find out the hard way.
His goal wasn't to become some doomsday monster anyway. He wanted strength so he could live on his own terms, not so he could freeze the world into a lifeless wasteland.
Besides, if he actually triggered an ice apocalypse, he'd never live it down. No one would want to hang out with the guy who accidentally froze an entire continent.
"…Gotta stick to the 'hide-and-thrive' rule," he muttered, carving the thought deep into his mental notes.
***
Syltra tightened her robe around herself, trying to keep out the cold. People always talked about how freezing the northern lands were, but she hadn't truly understood it until she stepped onto those snowy plains.
The cold wasn't just harsh, it was bone-deep, far worse than she'd imagined. Something was off about the weather too.
Even with the anti-cold magic circle running nonstop, ice elements kept slipping through, and every so often, a sneaky chill would snake into her clothes, crawling over her skin like icy fingers.
The blizzard never seemed to let up once they left the safety of the city. Out here in the open, the wind roared like a beast, sharp as blades, sometimes flinging hail like nature's own bullets.
Thankfully, she'd done plenty of field work before. If not, she might've ended up like her spoiled classmates who refused to step out of their warm carriages.
Honestly, she didn't want to be out here either. Who in their right mind would willingly freeze their butt off unless they lost a game of rock-paper-scissors? Which, unfortunately, she had.
"It's freezing... What kind of crap job is this, old man?" she grumbled to herself.
Ever since saving her mentor from a black dragon five years ago, her career had taken a sharp turn for the better. She'd gained access to rare resources, missions with prestige, and valuable connections.
At first, she used to call him "mentor" with full respect. But once the funds dried up, she found herself hustling nonstop, juggling tasks, chasing leads, squeezing every last coin she could from side jobs.
She wasn't even sure when she'd turned into this overworked, underpaid assistant. Just last month, she was dragged into picking up her drunk mentor from a fancy foot spa, on the anti-vice squad's request, no less.
The worst part? He stuck her with the bill. Again. That moment, she really thought about murdering him with a smile on her face.
"When is that old man gonna explode into a pile of gold coins already?" she muttered.
Now she understood why the great fire archmage didn't have students anymore. It wasn't just because he was picky, it ran way deeper than that. Something about the whole thing left her mentally drained.
She gripped her staff, taller than she was, with both hands, the small bell tied to it jingling softly as she activated a few basic detection spells. A circular array flared to life beneath her boots.