CHAPTER 98: TEST FOR A MATE?

Steven’s words echoed in Azel’s mind.

"If you’re ever cornered against an opponent you cannot beat, then there are only two styles worth using. They won’t win you the fight — but they’ll force your enemy onto the defensive. And sometimes, that’s enough."

Now those words were all he could hold on to.

The battlefield had become a storm.

His own whirlpool spun violently, winds colliding with snow and shards of ice, forming a maelstrom that howled like a beast let loose from the abyss.

At its center, the figure beating furiously against the currents, was the Goddess of Ice herself.

Kyone.

The divine being floated in the air, her silver hair whipping violently,

Every breath she took was stolen from the chaos around her.

She knew firsthand how troublesome this whirlpool was.

And it was Azel’s creation.

Her eyes narrowed.

Without warning, she hurled one of her bone weapons.

The weapon split the storm like a cannonball, ripping through the wind currents with a shriek, cutting straight toward Azel.

The force behind it was monstrous — divine strength compressed into a single throw.

Azel stood firm.

He didn’t panic.

She didn’t flinch.

His crimson eyes followed the weapon’s trajectory with calm precision.

At the last heartbeat, his wrist twisted.

His bone sword angled slightly, aura and storm currents bending around the edge.

The bone weapon veered off course, redirected by the force of the whirlpool and his own aura’s manipulation.

It shrieked past him, vanishing into the horizon like a comet.

Azel exhaled slowly, his gaze flicking after it.

"The hell... what are these bones made of?" he muttered under his breath.

The weight, the density, the sheer menace embedded within them — it wasn’t mortal material.

That much was obvious.

But there was no time to think deeper.

His eyes locked back on Kyone, who was visibly struggling.

A whirlpool was nothing but a war of opposing forces, currents moving fast and inversely.

For even a goddess to move within it, when it was focused around her, control was nearly impossible.

She was caught in it, her balance fraying by the moment.

Azel inhaled sharply, focusing his aura to the tip of his blade.

His energy gathered, pulsing, trembling as though eager to be unleashed.

The glow at the bone sword’s edge intensified, searing against the storm.

"Begone!" Azel roared.

The sword discharged.

A blinding beam of pure mana erupted, tearing through the whirlpool, swallowing Kyone’s form.

The light exploded outward, scattering snow and wind in every direction.

The whirlpool collapsed instantly, its chaos consumed by Azel’s release.

The goddess plummeted, her body slamming into the ground with a heavy crack.

Ice shattered, a crater spreading outward from the impact.

For a moment — just a moment, it seemed she was done.

But slowly, inexorably, she rose again.

Her smirk was gone. In its place was a hard, furious frown.

Her chest rose and fell, her breath frosting the air around her.

She raised one hand, and with a sharp whistle, the bone weapon Azel had redirected earlier came streaking back, slamming into her grip as if it had never left.

"I hope you’re ready to die!" Kyone cried, voice echoing across the barren snowfields.

She surged forward.

Her speed was a blur.

Each step cracked the ice beneath her, her strength forcing the frozen wasteland to groan.

Azel tightened his grip.

He had to admit — her approach was direct, brutal, overwhelming.

But she relied too much on raw power.

Too much on overwhelming force.

Against someone who had learned Steven’s teachings, that left openings.

His sword glowed faintly.

Aura seeped over its edge like a translucent veil.

’I haven’t even had the chance to use it yet,’ Azel thought, lowering his stance.

The goddess was upon him.

Her blade came down with cataclysmic force.

’Redirection Arts.’

BOOM!

The clash resounded like a thunderclap. Her weapon struck, but Azel’s aura absorbed and twisted it away.

Her attack ricocheted violently, bouncing back with such force that even the divine bone cracked faintly, the sound echoing like splitting rock.

The goddess’s eyes widened in irritation.

She straightened her arm, forcing her weapon back into place.

But she wasn’t finished.

Her next strike came faster — far heavier than the first one.

Azel’s crimson eyes flashed.

His sword tilted again, aura flowing with impeccable timing.

The second strike, impossible as it seemed, was bounced away as well.

This time, her arm wasn’t pushed far back, only staggered slightly.

But that wasn’t what Azel was aiming for.

’Third Style — Dragon Claw.’

His aura flared green, surging violently along the length of his weapon.

He slashed once, twice, thrice — three consecutive arcs of emerald energy ripping through the air like the claws of a dragon.

The goddess weaved between them.

Her body moved with unnatural precision, gliding across the battlefield as though the wind itself obeyed her.

The three slashes tore the snow apart, gouging deep trenches into the ice, but none so much as grazed her skin.

She landed lightly, her expression twisting into something far more dangerous.

"You’ve managed to shift the battle in your favor," Kyone admitted.

Her grin returned, though it was different. "To be honest... I’m impressed."

Her voice carried with a weight that was almost... approving.

"I wasn’t convinced when I laid eyes on you," she continued, stepping forward.

Then, shockingly, she let her weapons fall.

They hit the ground with two heavy thuds, cracks forming in the ice beneath them.

Azel’s guard shot higher, bone sword raised defensively.

But the goddess didn’t seem to care.

She smacked his blade aside with casual strength.

His arms rattled with the impact.

Before he could recover, she closed the distance.

Azel stepped back instinctively, but his heel caught on the fractured ice.

His balance broke.

He fell backward, landing hard against the snow with a grunt.

His sword slipped from his grasp, clattering just beyond reach.

’Why the hell did that happen?’ He wondered, he had been holding it tightly after all.

Kyone moved like lightning.

She mounted him, pressing his body into the frozen earth, her knees pinning his arms.

Her silver hair fell around his face like strands of ice, her breath cold against his skin.

"You said this trial was to test Nyala’s chosen," Azel said, his crimson eyes locked on hers.

"I don’t give a fuck about that," Kyone replied.

Her voice was sultry, commanding, dripping with dangerous amusement.

Her tongue slid across her lips.

"This was to decide whether you were worthy enough to be my mate," she said, her grin widening as though she had just delivered divine judgment.

Azel froze beneath her weight, shock rooting him in place.

"And the answer," Kyone continued, leaning closer until her lips hovered just above his, "...is yes."

Her smile was final. Triumphant.

"So," she whispered, voice echoing across the now-silent battlefield. "I have chosen you to be my husband."