CHAPTER 97: GODDESS’S TRIAL

"Don’t worry," Kyone licked her lips, her gaze sharp as blades, "I won’t break you... that badly. Don’t you want to use your holy aura?"

Her voice was taunting, dripping with mockery, and it made Azel’s blood boil.

Wasn’t she supposed to be a goddess?

Weren’t gods meant to be lofty, kind, and radiant?

This one only sneered at him and worse of all, she looked like a beast.

He hated to admit it but Nyala looked more woman-like than this man with breasts in front of him.

"I don’t need it," Azel said flatly.

He sighed inwardly.

If she truly was a goddess, then yes — he would totally need it.

But there was no need to admit that aloud.

"Good," Kyone’s smile widened. "Because I’ve restricted your ability to use it anyway."

Azel’s face didn’t flinch. He didn’t know why but he had expected it.

There was no frustration,

No panic.

If anything, his eyes sharpened, crimson irises burning brighter beneath the endless snow.

That calm rattled Kyone more than anger would have.

’Good... you’re getting there,’ she thought, hunger flashing in her eyes.

"Let’s introduce ourselves properly before we begin," Kyone raised her bone blade and tapped it against her collarbone, as though the sound itself was a declaration. "I am Kyone, the Goddess of Ice and War."

Azel’s brow furrowed. "Ice and war? You’re both?"

"Lesser gods such as myself could never compare to the ancients who’ve endured since creation," Kyone said, the wind carrying her voice like steel against glass. "So the truly exceptional bear multiple mantles. The only reason I can silence your goddess of light in this place is because I’ve harvested authority for centuries."

She tilted her head and smirked. "Now. Introduce yourself."

"My name is Azel Winters," he said, aura leaking from his body in a scarlet shimmer that clashed with the pale blue frost around them.

His crimson eyes met her frozen blue ones. "Shall we begin?"

"Yes," she said, bending low like a beast ready to pounce. "Let’s see if you can keep up... son of Winter."

The ground exploded as she leapt, the entire frozen plane trembling with her step.

Skeletons cracked beneath the shockwave, snow blasted outward, and still Azel stood his ground.

His grip on the bone sword tightened, the winter inside him thrumming like a war drum.

He lunged forward. Steel met steel — or rather, bone against bone.

The clang sent ripples through the air, snowflakes scattering like sparks.

His blade met hers in a flurry, and immediately, Azel realized why she carried two weapons.

It wasn’t hard to realize especially in the middle of battle.

One clashed, the other hunted for openings.

Her second blade came crashing down like a guillotine.

Azel moved — his instincts screamed that he was clear.

But at the last instant the bone jutted, warped unnaturally, and the edge grazed across his side.

His coat shredded apart, cloth falling in strips across the snow.

’If that thing had touched my body... I would have been shredded to pieces.’ He thought with a shudder.

"Oh?" Kyone’s eyes glimmered in amusement. "You dodged? Not bad for prey."

Azel ignored the sting in his ribs.

He drew back, sword raised, aura spiraling outward like a storm breaking loose.

His eyes narrowed, time itself seeming to slow as his focus honed razor-sharp.

’First Style — Star Strike.’

The first strike was the most ideal move to use since they were in such close proximity, he could probably get some hits in, after all the first style was designed for close proximity battles.

He launched forward, his sword flashing like a falling star — only for the aura to flicker and collapse before his strike could land.

The technique dissipated into the cold air as if it had never existed.

"What—?"

Kyone smirked. "What a pathetic imitation of the Hero."

She lashed out, her foot sinking into his stomach with brutal precision.

The blow shot him backward, his body crashing through the snow in a spray of white powder.

There was so much force that he was sent bouncing multiple times.

His breath left him, pain flaring across his torso. He coughed, saliva freezing instantly on the cold ground.

"This feels like fighting with Steven..." Azel muttered, dragging himself to his feet.

His crimson eyes narrowed, recognition flashing. "You can cancel my techniques. That means you’ve seen them before."

The goddess tilted her head, mock applause in her grin. "Clever boy."

It was infuriating, but Azel took a deep breath and steadied himself.

The hunger to kill surged, whispering for him to give in, to let the winter rage inside him consume everything.

But no — he forced it down.

’Rationality over instinct.’

’Control over bloodlust.’

Kyone’s smirk faltered for the first time.

She had seen men fall to battle - even gods lose themselves to the hunger of combat.

Yet this boy — this mortal had tamed it with sheer will.

"He quelled it already?" she thought, her grip on her blades tightening.

When she was still human, it had taken her years to chain the madness of battle.

Yet he crushed it in seconds.

She launched herself forward, snow screaming beneath her steps.

Azel exhaled, his stance shifting.

His hand loosened on the hilt, his body dropping into a rhythm as though he were about to dance.

Kyone laughed bitterly. "That’s why men are fools — thinking calm will save you!"

She swung with full force.

But Azel’s stance shifted again.

The goddess’s eyes widened.

She knew that posture.

She had seen it before.

"I guess this goddess really is dumb," Azel said coldly, his aura flaring around him.

Wind gathered, the snow rising in torrents, circling them like a living storm.

"Sixth Style — Whirlpool."

The world roared.

A column of wind and frost erupted around them, swallowing their clash whole.

Skeletons were flung into the sky, snow twisted into spirals, the battlefield drowning in a howling vortex.

For a moment, all sound vanished — consumed by the whirlpool.

And then the only thing that followed was silence.