Chapter 76: For My Kingdom!
The moment the status vanished, Melvin’s gaze lifted to meet the eyes of his counterpart, and in that long, breathless stretch of frozen silence there was no need for words.
Everything he felt, everything he feared, everything he hoped to become settled into a single, quiet truth inside him.
"For my kingdom..." he whispered, the words barely audible, more breath than sound, more vow than speech.
And then both Melvins moved.
They didn’t simply dash forward; they surged with explosive force, two streaks of white cutting through the frozen expanse with such intensity that the air itself seemed to tear around them.
In that instant, Melvin knew deep in his bones that only his pure, unrestrained skill with the sword would suffice.
This was no ordinary clash—no, this was a battle of Destiny.
Melvin swung the Eternal Blade of Frost in a rising arc, the sword’s elegant, frost‑forged edge shimmering with a cold resonance that responded to the turmoil inside him.
His counterpart met the strike with a spear forged from the harshness of the destiny Melvin was born with, its tip gleaming like a shard of merciless ice.
BOOOOOOOOMM!!!!!
The clash rang out in a deep, resonant boom that cracked the ground beneath them, sending spirals of shattered frost erupting into the air.
Melvin staggered back a step, not because his counterpart was stronger, but because the pressure of fighting the version of himself the universe had already chosen pressed against his bones like a crushing weight.
His counterpart’s movements were sharp, ruthless, and perfectly aligned with the destiny of the God of Harsh Winters, a future Melvin was meant to inherit, a fate carved into the fabric of his soul since birth.
And.... every strike carried the force of inevitability.
Every movement pressed down with the suffocating truth that Melvin was trying to kill the future written for him.
Seeing him stagger, his counterpart lunged, spear thrusting forward in a blur of cold steel.
Melvin twisted aside, the motion fluid and instinctive thanks to the Battle Art of Winter’s Edge now woven into his mind.
WHOOOOSHHHH!!!!
Even without frost abilities or freezing domains, the art’s flowing footwork and graceful misdirection guided his body, allowing him to slip past the spear’s deadly arc and bring his sword down in a sweeping strike meant to break momentum and reclaim control.
CLANGGGG!!!!
The spear rose to meet it, the impact sending a shockwave rippling outward, snow exploding around them in a violent storm.
Melvin’s breath came out in long, steady streams, each exhale frosting the air, while his counterpart’s breathing remained silent, steady, unbroken—like the winter he embodied.
In that short moment.... they moved again, blades flashing, spear spinning, feet sliding across the ice in a dance that felt both ancient and newly born.
Melvin’s sword style was multiversal in its mastery, every motion precise, every angle perfect, every step deliberate, yet even with that mastery the battle pressed him to the brink.
His counterpart struck low, spear sweeping across the ground in a wide arc meant to take Melvin’s legs out from under him.
Seeing this, Melvin leapt, twisting midair, bringing his sword down in a descending strike that forced his counterpart to brace with both hands.
CLANGGGG!!!!!
The impact sent cracks spiderwebbing across the frozen earth, the ground trembling beneath the force of two futures colliding.
And as Melvin descended from the clash, his boots touched the ice with a sharp, ringing thud that should have steadied him...
Instead, it felt as though fate itself reached up from beneath the surface, twisting the ground just enough to knock off his balance, just enough to remind him that he was fighting the destiny written into his soul.
In that instant, his footing gave way, and his counterpart moved without a moment’s pause.
BOOOOMMMM!!!!!
The construct surged forward with ruthless precision, spear cutting through the air in a clean, merciless line that struck Melvin square in the chest, the force of the blow launching him backward like a ragdoll caught in a storm.
He flew across the frozen expanse, crashing into the side of an ice mountain with such violence that the entire structure shuddered, cracks racing up its surface like lightning frozen in place.
Before Melvin could fully register the pain, before he could even draw a breath, the construct pressed the assault.
WHOOOOOSHHHH!!!!
SHHHKKKKKK!!!!
The spear left its hand in a single, fluid motion, whistling through the air with the inevitability of winter itself, and Melvin barely had time to widen his eyes before the weapon slammed into him, piercing through his side and pinning him against the ice.
His body jerked from the impact, a sharp, burning agony ripping through him as he coughed out a mouthful of blood that splattered across the frozen wall behind him.
The construct was already moving again, closing the distance with long, deliberate strides.
Melvin felt the weight of it pressing down on him, felt the suffocating truth that this was not a battle of strength but a battle against the very fabric of his fate....
He could feel the heavy weight of a destiny pressing down on him, trying to force to crumble, to surrender, to go along with the path laid out before him.
Yet, he didn’t crumble.... And he certainly didn’t follow the path he never chose.
There was no fear in his eyes—only a fierce, burning determination that rose from somewhere deeper than pain, deeper than the boy he used to be.
He drew in a ragged breath, tasting blood and frost, and roared with every ounce of strength left in him, a raw, primal sound that tore through the frozen air.
"For my kingdom!"
HUMMMMM!!!!!
In that moment, as the counterpart lunged, Melvin raised his hand, and the Eternal Blade of Frost responded.
The sword tore free from where it had fallen, streaking across the battlefield in a long arc of pale blue light, cutting through the air with a silent, winter‑born grace.
SHHHHKKKKKK!!!!
The construct’s head turned just slightly, its eyes narrowing as it sensed the motion, but it was already too late.
The blade passed cleanly through its skull in a single, perfect line... slicing through destiny itself as it flew into Melvin’s grasp at the exact moment the construct came within striking range.
And in that single breath of frozen stillness the entire realm seemed to pause, as if acknowledging that something fundamental had shifted... that something predetermined had finally been challenged.
From his concealment—Akasha watched with a faint, satisfied smile, the kind that carried no surprise, only quiet approval.
He had obviously expected Melvin to reach this moment.
But seeing it happen, seeing the boy roar for his kingdom and strike down the construct of his own fate with nothing but raw resolve and a blade, stirred something in him that felt almost like pride.\
HUMMMMM!!!!
The construct dissolved into drifting particles of pale blue frost, vanishing without a sound, and before Melvin could even catch his breath the frozen realm shuddered again.
The next trial began immediately.
Melvin barely had time to straighten his posture before the ice around him began to shift, rising into towering walls of jagged frost, the landscape reshaping itself into a labyrinth of winter that pulsed with hostile intent.
----
While Melvin faced the second trial, Akasha stepped away from the battlefield entirely, slipping into a separate portion of the Second-Tier land where the air was still, the ground smooth, and the sky a blank canvas of white.
He reached into his storage and withdrew several shimmering crystals—perfect duplicates of the Comprehension Crystals he had acquired earlier, each one glowing faintly with condensed insight.
He held them in his palm for a moment, feeling their weight, feeling the potential humming inside them, feeling the quiet promise of what they could unlock.
"It’s time to achieve Aura," he muttered to himself, his voice low, calm, and certain.
He cracked the first crystal between his fingers.
HUMMMM!!!
A pure white light burst outward, bathing him in a radiance so intense it swallowed everything except the quiet, absolute focus in his eyes as he stepped into the next stage of his own power.
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