"You're siding with the enemy! Your Goddess will be heartbroken."
Arthas, initially serious, chuckled wryly at Ais's words.
"If she minds, I'll beat her up."
Ais scoffed indifferently; Arthas shook his head, amused by Loki's unfortunate position.
"I'm sorry, Ais. It's not just for Riveria; I have to win for Hestia. And I won't lose to a girl."
Arthas's smile faded; as he spoke, the temperature plummeted.
I hate this… but I have to…
Arthas might have outmaneuvered Riveria, but he had no chance against Ais in her current state.
This body was too weak. He didn't know why, but this wasn't his true form.
I… am strong. Truly, incredibly strong… beyond words, beyond comprehension.
That strength is lost… but not gone. It was something he shouldn't touch, hidden deep within his soul, encased in ice that froze time.
Mysterious power… and a mysterious past.
But now… it doesn't matter. He needed power, desperately.
The sorrow of the forgotten, memories lost to death, images from the depths of his soul, etched into his very being.
Torment, the forgotten memories, the truest devotion from the depths of his soul, surrender, entering rest.
Sinking, sinking into pain.
What couldn't even the forgotten forget?
Flesh etched with pain, brought power.
When only the soul remained, at least, he hoped to feel a warm embrace.
Death isn't the end. One day. He will return, bringing destruction!
Forgotten… by whom?
He wondered; icy frost enveloped him; Arthas underwent a transformation. His black hair lost its color, becoming deathly white.
Unholy frost spread from his feet; the strange fire poker returned to his palm. Unlike before, the frost didn't radiate outward; it gathered in his palm, offering its chilling cold to its master.
Moments later, a frost sword appeared in his hand.
"Come, Ais. I'll defeat you, in your own domain."
Unstoppable elemental power!
Terrible forbidden power!
Arthas smiled eerily.
Ais frowned; she sensed a change in Arthas, but couldn't define it.
It was dangerous, deadly, like a venomous snake.
"That's not ice magic… it's frost power!"
A knowledgeable God exclaimed.
"Ice… and frost? What's the difference?"
Hestia asked, puzzled.
"Ice is magic; frost… is power channeled through the body itself."
The God explained, pausing, then continued.
"Ice magic is rare but not unique; mages can use it. Riveria, for example, uses ice magic."
"Fimbulvetr, similar to that kid's indiscriminate ice magic."
Loki scoffed; the God nodded.
"Ice magic is rare, but frost power is different; it's an innate ability, a racial heritage."
"What race?"
The Gods asked; the God's expression turned serious.
"Undead!"
Only undead beings possess frost power!
Living bodies can't contain this element that freezes blood; only unholy undead can wield it.
"Nonsense! Arthas is human! Even if he's not, he's alive. He has a temperature, a heartbeat, blood!"
Hestia refuted him.
"I don't know. I'm just informing you; his power is frost power. Only Death or the God of the Underworld knows if it's exclusive to the undead. Or perhaps the offspring of Death or the Underworld God could easily use it?"
Silence fell; Death and the God of the Underworld were unwelcome.
Hades and Hela. The Gods didn't even want to mention their names.
"Ha… they couldn't be their offspring. They were sent back to the heavens."
Another God laughed; the others agreed.
Death and the God of the Underworld had wanted a massacre and were banished.
"Let's watch the match. Ais's situation might be… interesting."
The mood eased; the Gods focused on the mirror again.
____________________
for more advance chapters visit my p@treon
[email protected]/kane45
Casual Reader - 20 Advance Chapters
Intermediate Reader - 40 Advance Chapters
Expert Reader - 60 Advance Chapters