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In this land, Cirgo—the kingdom eternally wrapped in snow—strength and fragility intertwine in an endless dance. For some, strength is a disguised curse, while for others, fragility is a hidden power.
The birth of Serena, under the sign of a freezing era, was more than just the arrival of a new life; it marked the beginning of an endless winter. The entity that wove the world's power system with mystical abilities bestowed upon the princess a rare and fearsome gift: the ability [Ice Rose], a catastrophic S-Class power that would seal her fate in abnormal solitude.
From an early age, Serena, born into royalty, was immersed in study and knowledge. As a result, her ability awakened very early.
Serena's childhood unfolded like a sequence of solitary moments, each revealing her uniqueness. Her eyes, blind since birth, glowed with a deep blue light. But Serena didn't need sight to perceive the world; she experienced it through a symphony of sounds, scents, and touch—narratives more vivid than any painting could ever portray.
Sentil, her older brother, dreamed of becoming a knight, and his training was the background melody of Serena's days. She would accompany him to the training field alongside their mother, Solange, and found joy in the sound of wooden swords cutting through the air, in Sentil's effort and determination.
"My sister is here... I have to try harder to look strong..." Sentil murmured, as the blade sliced through the air.
At only eight years old, Sentil already bore the weight of a protector—not just of his family, but of the entire kingdom. His dream was to defend Cirgo with courage and honor, which drove him to endure the harsh training of his mentor Roghan, a man with silver hair and modest stature, but unquestionable skill.
Worried by the harsh sounds of battle, Serena approached when a particularly loud thud reached her ears. She found Sentil on the ground, but before her concern could turn into tears, he stood back up.
"Sentil, are you okay?" she asked, her voice trembling with fragility.
"Of course I am! A hit like that would never hurt me!" Sentil replied, trying to fill his voice with confidence to soothe his sister.
"Oh ho? Looks like you're ready for another round," Roghan commented, stroking his greying beard.
Longing for a moment of rest by Serena's side, Sentil tried to convince his master that the training was enough for the day.
Solange, the queen, watched her children with a heart overflowing with love, but also a mind shadowed by worry. She approached, wrapping them in a warm embrace.
"Come on, Roghan, how about a break? I'm sure they're hungry," she proposed, with a gentle smile.
"I believe you're right, Your Majesty," Roghan agreed.
As night fell upon Cirgo, covering the kingdom in darkness and cold, rare moments of family unity unfolded inside the royal castle. Serena and Sentil gathered with their father, King Zered, whose attention was often consumed by the burdens of ruling.
Even while living in the castle, they rarely spent time with their father—he always felt so distant.
That night, however, a conversation between worried parents took place in his study.
"Dear… What are we going to do about Serena?" Solange's voice, tinged with maternal concern, broke the usual silence of the room.
"What do you mean?" Zered lifted his eyes from the papers, the question carrying a weight he knew well.
"You know. She's only five, but she's already Class B, with a Mna of six thousand. Her ability… it seems to be getting stronger by the day..." Solange's words hung heavy in the air.
Cirgo's cold was growing more severe, more piercing—especially in Serena's presence. It was a truth everyone felt, one that couldn't be ignored much longer.
During royal outings, when Solange took Serena and Sentil through Cirgo's streets, warm greetings from citizens were always accompanied by wary looks.
The respect and admiration for the royal family remained, but the queen's worry deepened. She feared that Serena, her precious daughter, could become something feared—something that might attract hatred and resentment.
"I... I don't know..." Zered's response was a whisper of uncertainty, an admission of helplessness in the face of their daughter's destiny.
Deep down, they both knew that Serena Snowfall was destined to become a powerful force—a gift to a world where power was the most valued currency. But as parents, the fear that she would suffer for being extraordinary, that she would become a monster in the eyes of the world, was a shadow haunting them daily.
It was a path already written, a reality that could not be changed. Even if Serena learned to control her power, the present moment was a storm. Until she mastered [Ice Rose], Cirgo might very well turn into nothing more than a dead field buried in snow and ice.
With no clear solutions, Zered stepped away from his desk, the exhaustion of a king heavy on his shoulders. The burdens of leadership, combined with the weight of being a father to a cursed daughter, were too much to bear that night.
The castle fell into slumber. Serena, still unaware of her curse's true weight, slept peacefully—unaware that soon, she would face the first true test of her power.
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As Serena grew older, the cold that accompanied her became more intense, more penetrating. Flowers withered at her unintended touch, and a freezing aura followed her wherever she went, as if the very air bent to her presence. Her mana, untamed and overwhelming, would occasionally burst from her control, freezing everything nearby.
Ice blanketed everything, and at just six years old, Serena was scared. She didn't understand what was happening. Even though she knew of her power over ice, she couldn't control it, and it left her confused. If it was a gift—or a weapon—shouldn't she be able to wield it at will? Why did this weapon act without her consent?
S-Class abilities are known to be composed of four or more extraordinary skills. Serena's [Ice Rose] was formed by six exceptional ones:
[Crystallization]: Allows the creation of barriers and weapons that freeze anything.
[Sublimation]: Transforms ice into vapor and allows free manipulation of it.
[Thermal Manipulation]: Grants complete control over the ambient temperature.
[Glacial Regeneration]: Regenerates the user's body automatically when in a cold environment.
[Cryogenic Intangibility]: Makes her body intangible to avoid damage.
[Thermal Analysis]: Gives full awareness of surrounding temperatures for precise control.
With visions granted by [Thermal Analysis], Serena could see the world through temperature. She managed this for the first time at six—but the sight frightened her, and so she chose to close her eyes, keeping them shut for a while.
Her ability, the strongest ice-based power ever recorded, had a range not limited to her own mana, but affected by environmental temperature. In Cirgo, a naturally cold city, this meant that the kingdom's 80 million square meters—plus the Blue Rose Forest and surrounding mountains—were under her influence. This made Serena an A-Class, almost A+, with the ability to affect an area of approximately 90 trillion square meters.
Serena would be a great attraction for everyone, as everyone respects the strong. Taking into account the difference between the worlds, this would be considered something like 10 thousand times larger, so this is not something that threatens the planet.
One day, she visited the royal stables—she loved playing there, as she felt a deep love for animals.
"Hey... Are you okay?" Serena asked one of the royal horses, who was lying on the ground, his body slowly succumbing to frost. The animal sighed deeply and stopped moving.
"Why is your body... getting colder?" Serena's voice trembled as she gently stroked the horse, unintentionally accelerating the process she wished to stop.
The horse, a loyal companion to the castle guards, lay motionless, his breathing fading. Serena, realizing the gravity of the situation, began to cry—warm tears contrasting with the cold emanating from her, though the tears slowly froze as well.
"I didn't mean to... I didn't mean to do this..." Serena sobbed, as the guards approached to help.
One of the soldiers, moved by compassion, extended a hand to comfort the princess—but the touch of her icy aura burned through his armor and scorched his skin, causing him to pull back with a cry of pain.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Serena wept harder, devastated by the harm she had caused.
Despite the pain, the soldiers gathered around her, offering words of comfort.
"It's okay, Princess. We're here with you," one of them said, his voice firm and gentle.
"We'll take care of everything, don't worry," another added, even as they clutched their wounded hands, showing Serena she wasn't alone in her pain.
Serena continued to cry, but the soldiers' words brought a flicker of comfort to her troubled heart, calming her in that moment. The cold she emanated began to subside—becoming harmless. However, she never forgave herself for what she had done. Human or not, Serena had taken a life.
Time passed, and with effort, by the age of seven, Serena could remain stable for longer periods. However, her power still erupted from time to time, posing a threat to anyone nearby.
In the darkness of her room, Serena curled into a corner, hugging her knees tightly to her chest. At only seven years old, the princess of Cirgo bore the burden of a power she did not understand—one that isolated her in a role no child should ever face.
"Serena, my little star, please hear my voice," Solange's voice was a gentle whisper, yet heavy with the pain only a mother could feel.
Serena lifted her face, her blue eyes meeting her mother's. They were like two lost beacons in a sea of uncertainty, searching for a safe harbor in her words. It was a haunting image for the queen—her daughter, so young, with lifeless eyes, void of light.
"Mommy, am I... am I a monster?" the question slipped from Serena's lips in a thread of voice, tears forming in the corners of her eyes.
"No, my darling, you are everything to me. You are the light that shines brightest in our lives, even in the darkest nights," Solange said, kneeling before her daughter. She extended her hand, hesitant, fearing the cold, but determined to give Serena the comfort she so desperately needed.
Serena looked at her mother's hands—so warm and full of life—and felt the weight of reality on her shoulders. She wanted to pull away, not wanting to hurt anyone else, but the love in her mother's eyes said otherwise. She wanted to embrace the woman who loved her so deeply.
"I don't want to hurt you, mommy," Serena sobbed, tears now flowing freely down her face.
"You won't hurt me… I know my daughter would never hurt me…" Solange said with conviction, wrapping her arms around Serena. The freezing cold bit into her skin, but she endured it, holding her daughter with all the love she had.
Serena collapsed into her mother's arms, letting out a deep, soul-wrenching cry. The cold around them softened slightly, as if the [Ice Rose] itself receded in the face of that warmth.
When they finally left the room, Sentil was waiting—his young face etched with worry. Seeing his sister, he didn't hesitate. With a single step, he embraced her in a protective hug.
"I'll grow stronger, Serena. I'll be the knight who protects you and our kingdom," he said, his voice firm despite his age.
Still trembling from sobs, Serena found a faint smile through her tears. Sentil—her brother, her rock—was the promise of brighter days. And in that moment, surrounded by the love of her family, Serena felt that maybe, just maybe, there was hope for her in the end... just maybe.
But the future had something in store that she could never have imagined.
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Night had fallen over the kingdom of Cirgo, and with it came an unpleasant meeting in a tavern forgotten by time. A hooded man waited in silence, his identity hidden beneath the folds of a dark cloak. The only sound was the crackling of the fire in the hearth, casting a flickering glow over the figures that approached.
The assassin-for-hire, known only as Raven, entered accompanied by his group—each more lethal than the last. They gathered around the table, their gazes sharp and distrustful.
"So, you're the man who wants the princess dead," Raven said, his voice low and coarse.
The hooded man nodded, his posture calm, yet his presence carried an authority that demanded respect.
"Yes. But it's not a simple task. She is protected by magic and loyal guards."
Raven gave a humorless smile.
"Nothing we can't get around. What's the price?"
"The price will be fair. But first, I want guarantees that you can carry out the task without fail," the man replied, sliding a heavy pouch of coins across the table.
Raven's group exchanged glances. The clinking of the coins inside the pouch seemed to enchant them—a sound that pressed heavily in the dim silence of the tavern.
"Everyone knows the castle of Cirgo is a fortress of ice," Raven began, casting a sharp look toward his companions. "But we have an edge. Our [Cold Resistance] is unmatched. The ice won't stop us."
The others nodded in agreement.
"We trained in snow-covered mountains... swam through glacial waters," one of them murmured, a cold smile forming on his lips.
The hooded man at the table smiled, satisfied.
"Very well. The payment will be ten times greater. Half now, half upon completion."
Raven took the pouch, weighing it in his hand with a calculating gaze.
"Before we proceed… I want to know. Why does she need to die?"
The hooded man hesitated. The silence that followed was nearly suffocating.
"She is... dangerous. A threat to the kingdom—and to all of us."
Raven held his gaze for a few seconds before nodding slowly.
"Understood. When do you want it done?"
"Tomorrow is a new moon. The castle will be less guarded, and the darkness will be our ally."
"Consider it done."
Raven stood, and his group followed. The hooded man remained still, watching them leave, his breathing heavy, relief washing over him.
But then… something shifted.
The flickering candlelight in the tavern seemed to dim for an instant. The icy wind from the snowstorm outside howled louder, and a shiver ran down the man's spine.
He didn't realize there was another hidden presence in the room.
There was no time to react.
A hand emerged from the shadows behind him and pierced through his chest with brutal force. He gasped, eyes wide in silent terror. Before he could cry out, another hand clamped tightly over his mouth.
Blood spilled from his lips as he struggled—futilely.
A raspy voice whispered into his ear, dripping with contempt:
"You see... my group and I already have plans for the princess. Don't mess it up."
The man tried to resist, but his strength failed him. His eyes rolled back just before his head collapsed onto the table. The dull thud echoed through the empty space.
No one else was there.
The storm outside roared louder, covering up the crime. The assassin wiped the blood from his hands, his cold eyes scanning the scene.
"I need to warn the Fifth… and figure out how we'll handle this inconvenience."
With one last glance at the corpse, he began dragging the body into the darkness.
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The following night was quiet—at least as quiet as Cirgo could be. Hooded figures moved with purpose, shadows on a mission.
Raven, the leader of that shadowy band, cast sharp glances between the castle and his companions. There were ten of them in total, all clad in black cloaks that rendered them nearly invisible under the cover of night. The plan was clear in his mind: nine would infiltrate the castle—five to act as external support, monitoring the guards, and the remaining four would take on the most dangerous task—entering the princess's chambers.
"Let's go," Raven said, his voice a whisper that sliced through the silence.
Nine shadows darted through the trees like cats, while a tenth figure remained hidden in the darkness, silently observing.
Surprisingly, infiltrating the castle would be easy. Due to Serena's unpredictable powers, most of the guards stayed outside the walls, leaving only two or three inside to watch over strategic points like the entrance to the royal chambers. It was a major flaw in Cirgo's defense—many soldiers had been reassigned to patrol the streets, a decision made by the king himself.
The distraction to remove the guard posted at Serena's door was simple but effective. A soft illusion of mist conjured an image of a lost child wandering the hallways, pulling the guard's attention away just long enough for Raven's group to slip by unnoticed.
The magical barrier was the only obstacle left—impenetrable by normal means, but not for those equipped with magical artifacts.
One assassin pressed a black rune to the barrier, and it flickered out with a soft pulse. These small, round runes were lifesavers in certain situations, crafted to help knights deal with unexpected magical defenses—especially the black rune, known for disabling wards and seals.
To ensure the princess's frost wouldn't affect them, they activated a blue rune to enhance their [Cold Resistance]—a small detail, but crucial for the success of the mission.
With the barrier gone and defenses reinforced, the assassins slipped into the room like wraiths. The air was thick with the weight of icy magic, chilling them to the bone despite the protection. There she was—Serena Snowfall—sleeping soundly in her bed, blissfully unaware of the danger creeping closer.
Serena's room was a sanctuary of ice, a perfect reflection of its occupant. Every surface, every object shimmered beneath a layer of crystal frost, faintly glowing under the soft moonlight peeking through the frozen curtains. The floor was like a mirrored trap—slick and treacherous, where a single misstep could echo like thunder.
The assassins felt the weight of silence pressing in as they moved, each breath a roar in the still air, their hearts pounding like drums. Every footstep was a test of precision, every motion deliberate. A single wrong move could awaken the girl and trigger a lethal storm.
Raven led them with extreme caution, eyes scanning every inch of the frosted floor. The ice wasn't just physical—it was Serena's power given form, a living defense that would react to the smallest threat.
Tension grew as they neared the bed. Each assassin moved with surgical focus, avoiding spots where the ice thinned or where sharp crystalline spikes jutted out like dormant traps.
As they reached her bedside, each one wrestled with an unexpected sense of dread. Killing a sleeping child should have been the easiest thing in the world for men like them—but this wasn't an ordinary child. This was a Class S threat.
Then something changed.
A chilling presence filled the room—cold that bypassed even magical resistance. It felt as though the very air had become aware of them. Conscious. Watching.
The assassins hesitated, exchanging uneasy glances. Had they underestimated this aberration?
They positioned themselves: one at her feet, one on her left, Raven to her right, and the last near the door—ready for anything.
Raven stared at the girl's sleeping face—so peaceful, still so childlike. So unlike the monster he'd heard tales of. For a moment, in all his years as a mercenary, he almost pitied her. Blind. Cursed. Feared. What a cruel existence.
But it didn't matter now. He looked at his comrades, each holding a dagger etched with a black rune—specially crafted to bypass magical defenses. Silent. Deadly.
Raven gave the signal.
One would slash her ankles. Another would pierce her throat. Raven would go for her lungs. She would not scream, she would not resist. She would simply die.
And then—they struck.
Swift. Precise. Merciless.
The assassin at the door froze in horror. Raven, too, stared in disbelief. None of them understood what had just happened. There was no blood.
Serena continued to sleep—unchanged. Unbothered. But they were certain—they had struck.
Raven glanced at his dagger and saw something horrifying—the blade was gone.
Panic rose in his chest as he realized his entire hand had vanished.
The others were missing their hands as well, one had lost his arm to the elbow. They felt no pain, but the truth was clear: their limbs and weapons had been flash-frozen at an unimaginable temperature—shattered instantly.
One assassin's face twisted from confusion to horror. He tried to scream, but before he could, jagged ice burst through his chest—erasing him completely.
The one at the foot of the bed turned to flee, but his legs vanished, and he collapsed face-first into a spike.
Raven had no time to process it—half his body disappeared in an instant.
They hadn't even scratched her.
The last assassin, standing by the door, ran.
He sprinted down the icy corridor, slipping, barely keeping his footing. His heart thundered in his chest. He had to escape. Warn the others.
But hope was fading fast.
At the end of the hallway, the imposing figure of a royal guard stepped out from the shadows—an armored specter with a massive blade in hand.
The assassin staggered toward him, wild-eyed.
"Help... the room... she... the ice—"
Without a word, the guard raised his sword and, in a single fluid motion, severed the man's head from his shoulders.
The body dropped with a heavy thud, blood pooling on the frozen stone.
The guard didn't flinch. He turned toward Serena's room—a heavy silence hanging over the corridor. A silence filled with dread.
He advanced.
Behind him, the bodies of the other assassins lay scattered—cut down swiftly and efficiently.
As he neared the princess's door, the cold intensified. He stopped in the doorway, taking in the frozen massacre. Only one body remained visible—its skull impaled on the floor. The rest had been erased.
His boots crunched over the frost as he approached the bed.
Serena slept peacefully—her breathing soft and steady, untouched by the carnage.
He crossed his fingers—index and middle—a subtle signal to someone not present.
"I came here to stop the assassins," he murmured, "but it looks like the little one did my job for me. You sure we're moving to plan B?"
A reply crackled through a hidden device beneath his armor. His eyes narrowed.
"Right. I'll move her to the second hideout—"
But then, his tone shifted.
"What do you mean reinforcements? You think I can't handle this alone?"
The silence that followed was suffocating. He looked at Serena again. Still sleeping, protected by her own power.
The ice that had devoured the assassins was now still. It was clear: he held no intent to harm her. As long as his will remained neutral, [Ice Rose] would not attack—only freeze on contact.
He was ready for that.
Cracking open a small pink orb, he released a sleeping gas—to ensure the princess wouldn't wake anytime soon.
Then—
"Stop right there."
The voice was hoarse and commanding, slicing through the air like steel.
The false guard turned slowly.
Standing before him was an older man, with a long braided beard and a heavy brown coat draped over a war-trained body. In his hand, a sword—already drawn—pointed directly at the intruder.
"You're... old Roghan?"
A chill ran down his spine.
"Who else would I be? Now step away from Lady Serena."
Roghan. First Knight of Cirgo. Mentor to thousands. A man whose blade, legend said, once moved faster than light.
In any other situation, Roghan would've ended him before a single word. But here, with Serena so close, he couldn't take the risk.
The infiltrator forced a smile, masking his growing tension.
"If I move, you'll cut me. That's dangerous for me... So how about I stay right here a little longer?"
Sarcasm laced his tone, but his heart pounded. He was buying time. Waiting for reinforcements.
But he wasn't the only one with allies.
Roghan kept his blade steady, his gaze unwavering.
"You've already lost. Every soldier in the city is headed to the castle."
The infiltrator's eyes widened.
"No one gets in."
Outside, heavy footsteps echoed through the frozen halls.
"And no one gets out."
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