The instant the General's blade began to break through Lucas' final layered defense, the Ice Belle felt it.
Across the battlefield, where she had been suppressing enemy cultivators and reinforcing Valerion's formations with controlled frost, a sharp ripple cut through her perception. It was not merely the fluctuation of aura.
It was instability.
Lucas' spatial signature, which had remained sharp and calculated throughout the engagement, wavered violently. Beneath it, she sensed something far more volatile stirring within his core, something hot and ancient pushing against fragile control.
Her eyes narrowed.
The General's killing intent spiked.
She vanished.
Cold erupted outward from her previous position in a violent shockwave that froze two nearby usurpers mid-stride before shattering them where they stood. In the next heartbeat, she reappeared above the crater where Lucas knelt beneath crushing force.
The General's blade descended that final inch.
Ice met steel.
