Zerath gripped the hilt of his sword as the ice surged toward him. He stepped forward, his boots crunching against the ground. Just as the distance between him and the tide dangerously came to be a thin barrier, the sword slashed through the air with a twist of his wrist. Its sharp tip cut into the frost with deadly precision.
The ice recognized the threat, and for the first time ever since it began its onslaught, the tide halted. Though the tide had paused, Zerath didn't. His eyes were locked onto it, resolute in stopping it from reaching Casca. With a swift pivot on his heel, his sword cast another perfect arc of a slash that sliced through the crystalline edges.
Valtor, who was watching Zerath's battle with the ice tide from the watchtower through the ocaluram, dropped his jaw with awe.
"My lord halted the tide…But is it over?"
True to Valtor's instinct, the ice regained its momentum as if awakened by Zerath's unyielding spirit. The sky rumbled with anger at his interference, yet he remained undeterred. With a hard click on his boot, he launched himself high with a breathtaking leap that landed him right in the heart of the ice tide.
"My lord!" Valtor exclaimed from the tower. "That's too dangerous!"
It was like willingly entering a beast's cave, ready to devour him whole. The ice swiftly closed in on Zerath, pointing its sharp ice spikes at him that were treading closer to pierce him through his body.
Placing his palm on the ice floor, he launched himself into an inverted pirouette, deftly dodging the attacking icicles while shattering the spikes mid-air. His agile footwork found its rhythm on the ice, while his wrists moved in symphony with his sword.
"My lord's swordsmanship is so magnificent. It's so beautiful as if...he is dancing…" Valtor murmured under his breath, awe-struck once again.
The most skilled swordsman in the entire Demon Realm was none other than Zerath. Tales were told of his glory whenever he swung his sword. He was always belittled as a filthy demon who was adopted from the streets.
But whenever his sword would see the light in the arena, the magic held by even the most powerful demons in the realm seemed dull before his blade.
As Valtor was lost in admiring Zerath's sword skills, his eyes caught a faint light emanating from the inscriptions on his sword's hilt. It flashed for only a moment, making Valtor feel as if he was hallucinating.
Did something just glow over there?
In front of Casca's gates, Zerath continued to unleash a flurry of strikes, each one faster than the last like a dancer building to a finale. The ice tide had now willed itself to devour him instead of making its way through Casca.
The frigid wind howled, biting at Zerath's exposed skin. The chilly winds made it harder for him to inhale that pricked his throat with every breath he took, yet there wasn't a single trace of hesitation and wasted movement that made him falter. With every thrust of his sword, his heart palpitated harder in his chest and taking in the music of his own drumming heartbeats, he glided along with the ice tide, not fighting but matching its rhythm to strike through the frost.
It was amidst the countless strikes against the ice that Valtor caught another glimmer of light flickering across his sword.
"I saw it again!" He scratched his chin, baffled.
What is that aura? Is it magic? But my lord cannot use magic…
The more he thought, the more confusion grew. As he looked through his ocaluram, he noticed a faint mist forming around Zerath.
Valtor saw Zerath shattering a towering crest of ice before it could crash on him. With a swift and elegant spin, he deflected another surge, but this time, Valtor caught the tip of his blade leaving a trail of a muffled yellow light in its wake. It only increased the mist surrounding Zerath, obscuring Valtor's view.
As Zerath stopped another incoming barrage of ice shards, he launched himself in one final soaring leap to the top of the tide. He held the impossible form mid-air and aimed the tip of his sword downward. With a powerful thrust, he pierced it through the ice, plunging it deep in its heart.
Suddenly, a brilliant and unmistakable golden light shimmered from beneath the ice bed. The frosty layer that had settled on Zerath's hands grew warmer and forgiving. The dispersed ice in the air scintillated like diamonds in the golden glow.
From the watchtower, Valtor heard the violent hissing and cracking sounds from the ice tide crisply disintegrating. Plumes of fog spiraled into the air that circled around Zerath. He stumbled back, aghast, staring at the breathtaking view before him, dazzled and stupefied.
That wasn't the mist before that surrounded my lord…It was steam! The steam was melting the ice attacking him! But how…This is not magic at all.
As the gentle light reached the tower where Valtor stood, a strange familiarity washed over him. He looked up at the grey clouds still blanketing the capital sky.
It's strange. I can't see the sun, yet this light and warmth feels so much like the first dawn...
Zerath knelt atop the icy wave, holding the hilt of his buried sword. He watched the golden light emerging from his blade seep through the crevices of the ice, spreading far and wide. The luster of the light beneath the entire wave of ice tide shone as if the night sky filled with twinkling stars had forged right onto the earth. Droplets formed and slid down the frost, vanishing into the swirling steam.
He gently placed his palm upon the ice and whispered, "Eurus."
As soon as he whispered his name, he felt a subtle tremor from the ice beneath him.
"Please forgive me. I didn't wish to slash you with my sword, nor did I want to fight you."
The warm light reflected onto Zerath's face, illuminating his solemn gaze.
"I know you engulfed the palace enraged, not because cousin Astaroth strangled you, but because he burned Vivia's hand. You were terrified for her, weren't you?"
He trembled, but Zerath realized it wasn't him but the ice beneath him quaking, shuddering like the earth in the grip of an earthquake. Within those tremors, he pictured Eurus curled into a ball against Vivia's chest, frightened and desperate.
Zerath's fingers balled into a fist.
"Forgive me for I wasn't there by your side. I understand your fury and I assure you…" he said with a grim gaze, mirroring Eurus's anger, "cousin Astaroth will be punished. For the harm he caused you and Vivia, he will be held guilty. I ask you to trust me. Will you?"
Zerath didn't feel a response for a long time, but he waited patiently. He held his breath, tracing even the most minute movement from the ice.
But the sharp icicles pointed at him didn't make a move. Instead, the shivers of the tide calmed with the warmth from his sword embracing him from within, eventually rewarding Zerath's patience as the howling winds dulled to a mild breeze and the rumbling and raging ice tide finally quietened.