Frostveil Territory – Northern Dominion
Snow never melted here.
Not because it couldn't.
But because the Frostveil Lineage willed it so.
Massive crystalline spires rose from frozen plains, reflecting pale blue moonlight. Beneath the surface, ancient ice veins pulsed with mana so pure it could freeze flames mid-burn.
Inside the central palace, tension was colder than the land itself.
She stood before the elders.
The Frostveil heiress.
White-blue hair flowing freely, eyes calm yet unyielding.
Opposite her sat the elders of the Frostveil Lineage—and beside them, guests.
Crimson robes.
The Crimson Order.
The Engagement
"This has gone too far," one Frostveil elder said calmly.
Across the chamber, the Crimson representative's lips tightened.
"Our engagement was agreed upon centuries ago," he said. "The Frostveil Lineage does not break contracts."
The heiress finally spoke.
"I was not asked."
Her voice wasn't loud.
It didn't need to be.
One of the Crimson elders leaned forward. "You are not a commoner. You are the future of your lineage. Your personal feelings are irrelevant."
Her gaze sharpened.
"My personal feelings are irrelevant. But my power is not."
The temperature in the hall dropped.
Frost veins climbed the pillars.
Several Crimson guards instinctively activated blood techniques in defense.
The Frostveil Matriarch finally raised a hand.
"Enough."
Silence.
She looked at her daughter carefully.
"You went to the battlefield."
"Yes."
"You stood near the Demon King."
"Yes."
"And you returned."
"Yes."
A pause.
"Did he protect you?" the Matriarch asked.
The heiress didn't hesitate.
"Yes."
A faint ripple passed through the Frostveil elders.
The Crimson representatives stiffened.
The Name That Cannot Be Ignored
The Crimson elder's expression darkened.
"You speak of that junior again."
The heiress didn't correct him.
She didn't defend Cael.
She simply said:
"You misjudged him."
The Crimson elder's eyes burned.
"He slaughtered four allied factions in one night."
"He restrained himself," she replied.
That answer unsettled even the Frostveil elders.
The Crimson elder stood abruptly.
"He is a threat to all Ten Families."
"No," she said calmly.
"He is a threat to you."
The silence that followed was lethal.
Crimson Territory – Internal Panic
Meanwhile, in the Crimson ancestral hall, chaos brewed.
Every elder present during the assassination attempt had suffered backlash from Cael's blood warning.
Several had not recovered.
The Clan Head sat pale and furious.
"He can reach us through lineage," one elder said hoarsely. "Even without stepping into our territory."
"That is impossible," another muttered. "Unless…"
No one wanted to finish the sentence.
Unless he was the original source.
The Clan Head slammed his hand against the throne.
"Prepare the heir."
The chamber stilled.
"You cannot mean—"
"I do," the Clan Head snapped. "If we cannot suppress him politically… then our heir will crush him publicly."
The Crimson Heir
Deep within a sealed chamber, a young man opened his eyes.
His aura surged violently, cracking the floor beneath him.
Blood techniques flowed around him—sharp, violent, incomplete.
But powerful.
He had trained for this moment his entire life.
He had been told one thing since birth:
"You are the descendant of the hero who killed the Blood Immortal."
He believed it.
He needed to believe it.
When he heard the name Cael, his jaw tightened.
"She is defending him?" he asked coldly.
The elder nodded.
The heir stood slowly.
"Then I will kill him in front of her."
Back to Cael
Cael stood on a rooftop overlooking the academy.
The assassination attempt had not shaken him.
It had clarified things.
The Ten Families were divided.
Some feared him.
Some hated him.
Some were watching.
And one… was curious.
He felt frost mana approaching before she arrived.
She landed lightly behind him.
"You're popular," she said calmly.
"You're disobedient," he replied without turning.
She crossed her arms.
"They tried to kill you."
"Yes."
"And?"
"And they failed."
She stepped closer.
"You're not angry."
He looked at her then.
There was no rage in his eyes.
Only something colder.
"I warned them."
"That wasn't a warning," she said softly.
"That was mercy."
He didn't deny it.
The Decision
She exhaled slowly.
"They're accelerating the tournament," she said.
Cael's gaze sharpened.
"Of course they are."
"The final phase," she continued, "will now be witnessed directly by representatives of all Ten Families."
"Good," Cael said.
She stared at him.
"You don't fear that?"
"No."
"You realize this isn't about a relic anymore."
"Yes."
"It's about power alignment."
He nodded once.
"And you?" he asked quietly. "Where do you stand?"
For the first time since meeting him, she hesitated.
Then—
"I stand where strength is undeniable."
A faint breeze passed between them.
He studied her.
"You're still engaged."
"For now."
"And if he challenges me?"
Her eyes cooled.
"Then I'll watch."
A New Announcement
The academy bells rang.
A magical broadcast filled the air.
"Due to recent events, the Inter-Academy Grand Convergence will advance to the Conquest Stage."
Murmurs erupted across campus.
"The Conquest Stage will require elimination battles between chosen champions."
Gasps.
"And final contenders will represent their lineage in direct duels before the Ten Families."
The Frostveil heiress glanced at Cael.
"This is no longer school competition."
"No," Cael agreed.
"This is succession warfare."
The Demon King Watches
Far away, in a realm untouched by mortal politics—
The Demon King smiled.
"They move quickly."
A general bowed.
"Shall we intervene?"
"No."
His golden eyes gleamed.
"Let them fight."
He leaned back on his throne.
"I want to see… which of them breaks first."