The lights on the stage dimmed once more, and a cold hush swept across the audience.
From behind a curtain of mist, a new scene emerged—vivid with snowfall and pale moonlight. On center stage stood the boy again, older now, clad in a soldier's tattered uniform, frost gathered on his pauldrons. And beside him, a radiant figure descended like a vision: the Ice Fairy.
She was adorned in silver and blue, her gown flowing like icy wind, her every step leaving behind a shimmer of frost. Her magic danced with elegance, tearing through demonic beasts with effortless precision. She was ethereal—an enigma of strength and silence.
The boy followed her across the battlefield. He no longer cowered. Though his sword trembled, he did not turn back. He mimicked her steps, stumbled at first, bled often, but never stopped. Scene by scene, act by act, he trained beneath the shadow of her brilliance—his body bruised, his spirit hardened.
