Part I: Rumors of a Storm
Word of Aira Flameheart's conquest of Frostbane Hollow spread like wildfire across the continent. It was not just that she had cleared an A-Rank Dungeon — it was that she had burned her way through one of the most infamous frostbound domains known to the Guild.
She was celebrated, envied, feared. And one person in particular took it personally.
Lysara, the S-Rank Cryomancer, stood atop a jagged glacier overlooking the northern frontier of Aegiron. Clad in icewoven silk and silvered fur, she narrowed her eyes at the glowing glyph message hovering before her.
> "Flameheart rises."
She dismissed the message with a flick of her fingers. Snow spiraled violently around her.
> "Let her rise," she whispered. "I'll be there to watch her fall."
Part II: Emberhold's Call
Back in Emberhold, Aira had little time to rest.
Guild messengers bombarded her with promotion requests, interviews, commissions, and even title grants. But what caught her eye was a crimson-sealed missive from the High Council.
> "An envoy from the Northern Guild has arrived," Kael read aloud. "They request a duel. For dominance, representation, and elemental honor."
> "That's ridiculous," Mira said. "We don't duel for 'elemental honor' like we're in a drama novel."
Seris leaned forward, sharp-eyed. "Who's the envoy?"
Aira flipped to the next page. Her hands froze mid-air.
> "Lysara. S-Rank. Ice Wielder of the North."
Part III: Meeting the Frost Queen
The duel wasn't immediate. Lysara didn't arrive like a brute demanding blood. She came as a noble — refined, cold, and dangerous.
She walked through Emberhold's gates like winter incarnate. Her hair was white as fresh snow, eyes the shade of glaciers. And when she spoke, her voice carried the weight of frozen mountains.
Aira met her in the Emberhold Guild Hall.
> "So you're the Flameheart," Lysara said, examining her with no attempt at disguise. "You melt a dungeon, and now the world kneels?"
> "I don't ask anyone to kneel," Aira replied. "But if you're here to test me—"
> "Test you?" Lysara smirked. "I came to remind the world that fire can be snuffed out. And ice? Ice endures."
They stood there, mana humming between them like thunderheads clashing.
The Guild Master stepped between them. "Take it to the arena. Midnight. No fatal blows. No outside interference. Let the world see."
Part IV: Arena of Flame
The Emberhold Grand Arena was filled beyond capacity. Guild members, nobles, adventurers, even foreign emissaries gathered for what was dubbed the Clash of Elements.
At midnight, the torches were dimmed.
Lysara entered in a gown of frozen light. Aira walked in wrapped in molten flame.
The bell tolled.
And the sky cracked.
Lysara opened with a storm of crystal shards that froze the air mid-flight. Aira countered with a rolling wave of heat, melting them before they could touch ground. She dashed forward using Scorchstep, launching a lance of fire.
Lysara's response was devastating. She raised a glacial wall, then sent jagged spears of enchanted ice that curved with impossible grace.
Aira activated Inferno Domain, expanding a bubble of radiant fire, forcing Lysara back. But the cryomancer simply smiled.
> "You burn brightly, Flameheart. But fire is brief."
Lysara called forth an Ice Wyrm, summoned from ancient sigils carved into the frost beneath her feet. The creature shrieked and charged.
Kael and Mira watched from the stands in awe. Seris gripped the railing, half-ready to jump in.
Aira dug deep.
She let Sunflare Core bloom. Her entire body radiated solar fire. She unleashed a supernova blast that struck the Ice Wyrm mid-lunge, disintegrating it in an instant.
Gasps filled the air.
Lysara staggered for the first time.
> "Impossible," she breathed. "You're still rising."
> "No," Aira said. "I've already risen. You're just late."
Part V: Breaking Point
Lysara snapped. She shattered the ground beneath her, summoning the Frozen Halo, her ultimate domain.
Aira, surrounded by frost, could barely breathe.
But she remembered Frostbane Hollow. Remembered surviving worse.
She closed her eyes. Focused. Then Scorchstepped straight behind Lysara and delivered a radiant punch empowered by every talent she had.
Lysara flew across the arena.
Silence.
She struggled to rise. Then… laughed.
> "Flameheart. You truly are something."
She rose to her feet, frost cracking from her shoulders. "We'll meet again. Beyond the Guild. Beyond the arena. When the world burns or freezes."
> "I'll be there," Aira said. "Flames never fade."
Epilogue: Respect Earned
Though Lysara left without another strike, her presence lingered.
The world now knew Aira had bested a true
S-Rank.
The North's queen of ice had met the South's flame.
And the next time they met — it wouldn't be a duel.
It would be a war.