Ice 5: Ices 2

I found another alley and slipped into it.

Now you might be wondering why, since that guy told me that if I wanted to do something I'd have to do it on the south side, but here is the thing, if I do actually go there then I will miss the executions and possibly have my master killed, which is preposterous, meaning that the guy tried to get me away from the execution, so he is either evil and doesn't want to cause more trouble, or he is not evil and only wanted to protect me from ices.

Either way, I do not care for my master is here, and so is my opportunity to get back to my family.

I surged forward, my body a blur as I dashed from the alley into the open. The moment my foot touched the square's stone pavement, I released Sefor. 

A pulse of energy rippled through my body, and time seemed to slow. 

The first executioner barely had time to react before I was on him. My Cultro slashed through his wrist in a single precise motion—his blade clattered uselessly to the ground as he howled in pain. Before his scream could even finish, I had already moved past him, weaving through the chaos I had just unleashed. 

The second executioner turned, his eyes widening. I was already mid-air, twisting my body to avoid the downward swing of his axe. As I landed, I slashed upward, my Cultro slicing cleanly through his chest. 

Panic erupted. The crowd gasped, some running, some frozen in fear. The remaining guards scrambled to react. 

"Stop him!" the fur-coated leader roared. 

Too late. 

I dashed toward the hostages, cutting through the ropes binding them in a single sweep. My master's eyes locked onto mine, a flicker of approval in her gaze. She didn't hesitate—grabbing a fallen weapon, she spun and slashed at the nearest enemy, cutting him down effortlessly. Even in captivity, she had lost none of her skill. 

Illya. 

I barely had time to process the thought before I heard a sharp gasp. My heart clenched. I turned my head, scanning the chaos. 

There—at the edge of the crowd. 

Illya stood frozen, eyes wide with horror, her tiny hands clutching the hem of her cloak. She had followed me. 

The fur-coated leader noticed her, his expression shifting into something cold and calculated. 

"Well, what do we have here?" he sneered, reaching inside his coat. 

I moved before he could even think of grabbing a weapon. 

My Cultro left my hand, spinning like a bolt of light as it soared through the air. 

The leader barely had time to blink before the blade embedded itself deep into his shoulder, pinning him against the wooden execution post. 

He let out a strangled gasp, his knees buckling. 

I didn't even slow down. In a flash, I was in front of him, wrenching my blade free before slamming my fist into his face. His body crumpled to the ground, unconscious. 

Silence fell. 

The remaining members of Ices hesitated, their will to fight draining away as they watched their leader collapse. 

And then—whispers. 

"The mark of honor…" 

"Is that really him?" 

"The one who defeated Karah?" 

Recognition flickered in their eyes. Fear, respect. The weight of my actions was finally sinking in. 

I turned to Illya. She was still frozen in place, breathing heavily. I knelt in front of her, placing a hand on her shoulder. 

"It's over," I said, my voice steady. "You're safe." 

Her lip trembled, but she nodded, trying to be brave. 

My master stepped forward, her usual composed expression masking whatever emotions she might have felt. "I see you've been busy," she said. 

I exhaled, letting the tension drain from my muscles. "I had no choice." 

She gave me a small, approving nod. "Then it's time to leave." 

The hostages, now free, slowly gathered behind us. The crowd, once an audience for an execution, now watched in stunned silence. 

People cheered.

Crowds formed.

The only thing that wasn't right was the blood trickling down from my forehead and a sudden black flash.

Darkness swallowed my vision for an instant—a sharp, blinding void that pulsed through my skull. My knees wavered, but I forced myself to stand tall. No weakness. Not here. Not now. 

The cheers of the crowd distorted, their voices warping into echoes as my balance shifted. The scent of blood and frost lingered in the air. My fingers tightened around Cultro, its familiar weight grounding me. 

Then, just as suddenly as the darkness had come, it passed. 

I blinked, my sight returning, my body steadying. But something felt… off. 

A new presence. 

The air around me thickened, charged with an invisible pressure. A slow, deliberate set of footsteps echoed from behind the crowd, and the people—just moments ago celebrating—fell silent, parting like waves before an unseen force. 

And then, I saw him. 

A man clad in a sleek black military coat, adorned with silver insignias I had only seen in history books. His presence was suffocating, his movements calculated. His eyes, cold as the ice surrounding us, locked onto mine with a quiet, unreadable intensity. 

I recognized that uniform. 

The New Russian Military. 

And judging by the way the remaining Ices members stiffened, by the way even the civilians shrank under his gaze, this was no ordinary officer. 

Karah stepped forward from the crowd, her usual smirk replaced by something more restrained. She stood at attention, her posture rigid. 

"General Mikhail," she said, her voice unwavering. 

General. 

The man—Mikhail—stopped a few feet away from me, his gaze flickering between the unconscious Ices leader, the freed hostages, and then back to me. 

"I see you've been busy," he said, echoing my master's words from earlier, though his tone carried something heavier. 

I remained silent, my grip on Cultro firm. 

He took a slow step forward. "You carry the mark of honor. You defeated Karah in battle. And now, you've dismantled an entire crime syndicate in the heart of New Russia." 

His eyes narrowed slightly. "Tell me, was that your intention? Or were you simply reckless?" 

I clenched my jaw. "I came for my master." 

"A noble cause," he mused. His gaze flicked to Illya, who clung to my sleeve, her body trembling but her expression defiant. "And her?" 

I didn't answer. 

He exhaled through his nose, his expression unreadable. Then, to my surprise, he turned to the gathered soldiers behind him. "Retrieve the hostages. Ensure they receive medical attention." 

The soldiers immediately moved into action, assisting the freed prisoners. The people of the city watched, some in awe, others in uncertainty. 

Mikhail then looked back at me. "You've caused quite the commotion." A pause. Then, a small, almost imperceptible smirk. "But I'd be lying if I said I wasn't impressed." 

Karah stepped beside him, her arms crossed. "He's strong," she admitted. "Too strong for a mere rogue." 

Mikhail nodded. "Indeed." His gaze locked onto mine once more. "So tell me… what do you intend to do next?" 

The weight of the moment settled on me. The city, the people, my master, Illya—all waiting for my answer. 

And for the first time in a long while, I wasn't sure.