12 commanders - training begins

Scene: Veil of the Mentor – Silent Return to Celestia

Night still draped the skies over Aetherreach. Within a quiet wing of the estate, Finn and Mira slept peacefully, their breaths calm and steady beneath the warm covers. Blazebloom, curled at the base of the room in humanoid form, gently snored with one arm over his stomach and a faint glow from his orbiting spheres gently illuminating the space.

Alter stood by the open window, the wind brushing against his newly crafted mythic-grade gear—the Takayoshi Set. The attire, inspired by martial masters of forgotten eras, shimmered with subdued power: light gauntlets and greaves fitted to a martial artist's precision, black fabric woven with dimensional thread for absolute silence, and a long scarf that fluttered faintly like a ghost on the breeze.

He adjusted the gauntlets slowly, then muttered, "Time to see how far they've come… without me."

With a quiet flick of his fingers, Marked Teleportation activated.

A silent ripple passed through the air, and he vanished.

Scene: Watching From the Shadows – The Twelve Commanders

He reappeared in a dim alley of Celestia, capital of the other continent. The city was quieter than he remembered—more fortified, more disciplined. And the banners of Mythral Dawn now flew high over the training barracks.

Alter kept his hood drawn low, the veil of his new identity masking even his divine trace. He moved like a phantom through the shadows, unseen and unfelt. This wasn't his time to appear.

Instead, it was time to observe.

From rooftops, bell towers, and even under illusion, he watched each of the Twelve Commanders during their drills and solo missions over the next two days. He investigated their exploits through public records, guild boards, and whispers in the taverns.

They had grown immensely.

Their combat ranks had risen to High S-Rank, just short of Mythic-tier.

They were being referred to as "The Twelve Blades of Mythral," with the myth of their master Alter whispered like a legend.

Missions once requiring entire guilds were now completed by squads led by any two of the commanders.

Finally, Alter used Analyze from afar.

Each one had now surpassed Level 180, with several reaching 190+, and some—like Selene, Revyn, and Mira Snowveil—showing combat power just shy of Finn and Mira. Their Attributes had nearly doubled from their original baselines, and their specializations were refined, razor-sharp. They bore gear he had crafted—now worn, but deeply attuned to them.

He couldn't help but smile beneath the shadows of his scarf.

"They've pushed themselves without me. Just as I'd hoped."

Alter narrowed his eyes. Still… their growth wasn't uniform. Each had strengths—and glaring weaknesses he noted in silence. Arinelle's spirit magic lacked tempo against fast-moving foes. Thorne had grown over-reliant on brute force. Even Selene's Sky Piercer technique lacked the exact compression and internal timing needed for second-form transitions.

"They need more."

But before teaching, he would test them—under his new identity.

Soon, the martial master known as Takayoshi would emerge.

Scene: Watching From the Shadows – The Final Evolutions

From the edge of a high spire overlooking the Celestian training grounds, Alter stood silent, arms folded beneath the layered scarf of his Takayoshi disguise. The moonlight reflected softly against the rooftops below, where Mythral Dawn's Twelve Commanders trained with unrelenting precision.

And in that pale light… their auras burned brighter than ever.

One by one, Alter watched as they rotated through solo routines, sparring sessions, and live-combat simulations. He took careful note—matching them to memory, logging their stances, magic usage, and levels.

But then came the shift.

As he activated Advanced Analyze, the system fed him the truth:

Final Class Awakening – Confirmed

1. Selene Virellia – Class: Holy Arc Knight

2. Darius Coalbrand – Class: Obsidian Shieldmaster

3. Revyn Mistclaw – Class: Phantom Clawblade

4. Mira Snowveil – Class: Glacial Tempest Archmage

5. Thorne Ironstride – Class: Earthshatter Warlord

6. Arinelle Dawnwhisper – Class: Sylvan Grand Summoner

7. Cidros Vane – Class: Arclight Duelblade

8. Ilyra Faen – Class: Seraphic Warden

9. Garran Flamecoil – Class: Inferno Devastator

10. Sorei Windshaper – Class: Stormtide Scoutmaster

11. Veyna Lux – Class: Prism Architect

12. Caelum Dray – Class: Skyborn Aetherlancer

His chest tightened.

Each of them had reached their final class evolutions—the pinnacle of their combat roles.

But the one that arrested him entirely…

Selene.

She stood on the raised stone ring, surrounded by dozens of watching adventurers. Her movements were fluid, sacred—her holy shield shining with layered divine glyphs, and her blade infused with an almost celestial resonance. Her hair fluttered like a banner behind her as she took her stance.

Alter's eyes narrowed as he saw her shift slightly… and then disappear in a streak of light—

"Sky Piercer—First Form!"

A shockwave split the ring in half as her blade punctured the target golem's magical core with surgical force. The crowd erupted in cheers. Her name echoed across the courtyard.

She had become a symbol of hope for Celestia.

Alter said nothing. He only stood still.

Her stance…

The draw...

The piercing thrust.

Her timing…

It was his technique. His legacy.

"Lira… Kaela… you would've been proud."

But instead of pride, a cold ache spread from his chest.

Images flashed—Lira's final words, her tears, Kaela's last stand, the two girls shielding him from Val'Zaruun's wrath. The unspoken promise of a child never born. The hand reaching toward him… only to vanish.

His jaw clenched.

This world keeps moving forward... without them.

His vision blurred. For a moment, he saw Selene standing in that ring not as a warrior—but as a shining reminder of what he'd lost… and what he still needed to protect.

He couldn't bear it.

In a silent burst of space distortion, Alter vanished from the rooftop—Marked Teleportation flaring beneath his feet like a quiet sob in the wind.

Scene Transition: Aetherreach – The Return

Aetherreach was calm beneath the morning sun, the scent of dew brushing against the cobblestones. Within the estate, the teens were still asleep, exhausted from their last dungeon raid.

And in the quiet corridor near the balcony—

Alter reappeared, back pressed to the wall, head lowered.

He said nothing.

His hand gripped the edge of his scarf. For several minutes, he simply stood there… until the wind moved again, brushing the corner of his eye.

Scene: The Hidden Path Ahead – Takayoshi's Stage

The marketplace outside the Celestia southern gate buzzed with morning energy, hawkers shouting, carts rolling, and mercenaries sharpening blades. But in a quiet alley nestled between two aging stone buildings, Alter—now dressed as Takayoshi, the lone martial wanderer—stood still, arms crossed and hood drawn low.

From the shadows, he listened.

"So the plan's simple," Thorne Ironstride grunted, thumbing his war axe. "We each pick a different dungeon—no backup, no magic crystals, just guts."

"You're just hoping one of us dies so you can take their rations," Revyn Mistclaw deadpanned, earning a ripple of laughter.

"Please," Mira Snowveil chimed, brushing frost from her shoulder pauldron, "If anyone's dying, it's you first. Gravity's your worst enemy, Thorne."

"A toast to solo suicide missions," Cidros Vane added, flipping a coin in the air with a cocky grin. "May we all die gloriously… or at least fashionably."

Alter nearly broke character from behind his corner.

Their banter was as wild and chaotic as ever—but layered under the jokes was intent. Seriousness. Resolve. These were not simply young adventurers anymore; they were warriors prepared to face the looming demon tide.

"Selene," Arinelle whispered as they began to mount up, "Are you sure this is wise?"

"It's not about being wise," Selene replied, her sword gleaming on her back. "It's about being ready. We promised Master. Even if he's not here… we carry his fire."

Alter's chest tightened at her words. For a moment, the name Master felt heavier than ever.

But now, it was time.

He grinned beneath the cloth mask that shadowed half his face.

"Let's see how long it takes them to notice their Mentor is a ghost from their past."

He blurred into motion, activating Marked Teleportation—his body dissolving into streaks of silver-blue light as he leapt forward across vast terrain, heading toward the dungeon entrance that the commanders would reach in a few days.

He arrived first, as planned.

Now, it was his stage.

Scene: The Mentor's Gambit – Takayoshi's Secret Prelude

Location: Frostveil Labyrinth – Base of the Glacial Spires

Time: Morning – pale sun struggling through the clouds

The cold gnawed.

Not a gentle breeze, not a nipping chill. It was the kind of cold that dug into bone and whispered through armor seams like a gossiping ghost.

Twelve figures stood before the ancient glacier-carved gateway known as Frostveil Labyrinth. Their breath misted in the air, weapons humming softly with restrained mythic power. Each one carried the air of command, their auras sharp, their posture honed from battle-earned discipline.

This wasn't a squad.

This was a strike force built to break the spine of calamities.

"Dungeon's dormant for now," Selene Virellia murmured, running a gloved hand across the frost-rimed stone. "But there's something alive inside. It's breathing."

Revyn Mistclaw, crouched on a ledge above, flicked a pebble down toward the snow.

"A dungeon that breathes. Great. Next thing you know it'll start blinking."

Mira, hopping side to side for warmth, grinned.

"If it blinks, I'm blinking back harder."

Darius rolled his shoulders, metal groaning under his pauldrons.

"Let's stay sharp. Nothing about this place screams fair fight."

The wind shifted.

A soft crunch in the snow behind them.

They turned—instincts half-ready to unleash hell.

But the man who approached looked more wanderer than warrior.

A brown direwolf pelt hung over his shoulders, half-frozen at the edges. His boots were caked with frost and mud. No weapons. No gauntlets. No crest.

Just cloth-wrapped fists, calm eyes, and a slightly crooked smile like he wasn't sure if he'd just interrupted something important.

"Morning," he greeted casually, stopping a short distance from the group. "Nice formation. Very symmetrical."

The Twelve blinked.

Selene narrowed her eyes.

"...And you are?"

"Name's Takayoshi," he replied. "I was passing through and saw the frost distortions. Thought I'd scout the labyrinth before the nasty things inside melted my face off."

He gestured toward the looming gate with an easy nod. "Looks like you beat me to it."

Thorne Ironstride, unimpressed, grunted.

"This is a private operation."

Garran Flamecoil, arms crossed, added:

"We don't need extra weight, thanks."

Sorei Windshaper chimed in helpfully, "Besides, you're undergeared. And you have no aura. You'd die before we finish buffing."

Takayoshi raised both hands, grinning. "Hey, no offense taken. Not here to join your team. Just figured… you look like you're about to walk into a memory-warping, frost-cursed, mana-siphoning death trap—and maybe you'd want someone on hand to train you through its quirks."

Mira blinked. "Train us? You?"

Finn frowned. "You have… no weapons."

Takayoshi tapped his fist gently against his palm.

"Don't need 'em. I have these."

Revyn, smirking from above:

"Okay. Unless those fists punch reality into submission, I'm not impressed."

That was when the air shifted.

Takayoshi's smile faded, just slightly.

A pulse of intent, sharp and seamless, moved through the snow like a silent wave.

He didn't look behind him—just turned his body halfway.

Then he spoke, calm and clear.

"Behind you."

The commanders whirled.

From the treeline behind them, a skeletal beast of warped crystal and frost—a Frostspike Ravager—lunged, jaws wide enough to bisect a carriage.

But before any of them could move—

Takayoshi did.

No flash.

No chant.

Just movement.

He vanished into a single step. Reappeared beneath the monster's chin mid-leap. His stance dropped. Fists coiled.

[First Form – Hollow Fang Disrupt]

→ A crushing uppercut that targets skeletal gaps and internal mana vessels.

CRACK.

The Ravager's jaw snapped upward—then down again with a shattering crunch. Its limbs spasmed, crystalline bones fracturing from the inside as the impact sent a pulse of destabilizing chi throughout its structure.

It hit the ground in two loud thuds—twitching, then still.

A pause.

Snowflakes continued to fall.

No one spoke for a moment.

Takayoshi exhaled through his nose and rolled his shoulders like he'd just loosened a knot.

"Was going to see if I could use it to test a concept strike. Too brittle, though."

Selene, still gripping her sword, slowly lowered it.

"That technique..."

"Never seen a form like that," said Darius, frowning.

"I have," whispered Mira, eyes wide. "In our training manuals. The old ones."

Takayoshi rubbed his neck awkwardly. "So… do I get a trial student or…?"

Revyn, eyes narrowed, muttered,

"Who are you?"

"Just someone trying to improve," Takayoshi said, genuinely. "I've got a set of twenty martial forms. Crafted to slay things that shouldn't be slayable. Demon gods, aberrations, you know—your average existential nightmare."

He flexed his fingers, gaze sharpening.

"I passed down fourteen to my last group. But they were incomplete. Controlled. Refined too tightly."

"Now… I'm here to evolve them. I want to create the final eighteen. Starting with the Fifteenth."

Garran, raising a brow:

"So you're… training by using us as the dungeon?"

Takayoshi grinned.

"No. I'm here to train with you. I'll fight ahead. Alone. If I fall, you lose nothing. If I don't—maybe you learn something."

Selene watched him carefully, her sharp eyes scanning for a hint—an aura, a tell, a lie.

But she saw only a man wrapped in stillness.

Like a lake with monsters sleeping just beneath the surface.

She finally nodded.

"You can go ahead. But don't slow us down."

Takayoshi smiled again and bowed slightly.

"Wouldn't dream of it."

He turned and walked toward the dungeon, snow curling away from his boots.

Behind him, the Twelve stared.

Scene Continuation: The Mentor's Gambit – Takayoshi's Secret Prelude

Location: Frostveil Labyrinth – Depth 1 Cleared, Inner Corridor Twilight

Style: Immersive, cinematic, introspective

The sound of dripping frost echoed through the blood-steamed passage. The once-slick stones beneath Takayoshi's boots were now darkened with the hushed stillness of defeated beasts. His breath hung in the air, each exhale slow, steady, rhythmic—as though even the air bowed to the cadence of his training.

He stood alone.

Again.

The wind didn't reach this far in. No monsters stirred. No divine eyes watched.

For now, it was just him… and the aftermath of growth.

He flexed his fingers—slowly.

The tension in his right wrist had faded. The microfracture in his knuckle had sealed cleanly thanks to his reinforced internal energy channels. His heartbeat was calm. His muscles no longer ached when executing the Fifteenth Strike.

"Fifteen down. Three to go."

He tilted his head.

No grin. No pride.

Just curiosity.

Progress was no longer measured in levels or titles. It was in refinement. Every inch he traveled through this dungeon wasn't just for practice—it was sculpting the Demon God Killing Martial Arts into their final form.

The original twenty techniques—crafted in desperation, sharpened against horrors, feared by those who couldn't regenerate from internal collapse—were meant to be fatal.

But now, he was forging elegance out of extinction.

"Still… it's not enough."

His gaze lifted toward the ceiling as faint blue light shimmered down.

"What happens when the enemy's too large for even these?"

"What happens when I can't reach their core?"

He sat down cross-legged, pressing a palm against the cold floor.

"Internal damage isn't just about force."

"It's about direction. Flow. Precision."

"What if…"

He paused.

Then blinked once.

…Then laughed under his breath.

"…Wait."

An idea sparked—insane, even by his standards.

"What if I didn't strike alone?"

"What if I created… momentary clones?"

Not real bodies. Not perfect mirrors.

Just split-second echoes—each executing one strike, from a different direction. Each channeling force into a single, microscopic point inside the target's body. Like…

"Gamma Knife Radiosurgery…"

He whispered the words like they were a spell only he could remember.

"Multiple focused strikes, converging on one internal location from separate vectors… not for cutting, but for collapsing the enemy from within."

He stared down at his hand, slowly closing it into a fist.

"I wouldn't need overwhelming strength…"

"I'd just need perfect convergence."

But then the logistics slammed into him like a cold wall.

"No cloning technique. No mirror style. No afterimage skill. Not enough mana to maintain real doubles."

He scrolled through the silent system in his mind.

The store appeared like an old friend he couldn't afford to visit.

[ERROR – Insufficient Skill Points]

[Recommended Purchases: Echo Phantom Technique (60 SP), Perfect Mirage (120 SP)]

[Current Points: 3]

"…Of course," he muttered dryly.

He stood again, brushing the frost off his shoulders.

"No shortcut, huh?"

The idea wasn't gone.

It just wasn't ready.

He stepped deeper into the dungeon, whispering to himself.

"If I can't afford the spell, I'll become it."

"Every limb, every motion—trained to leave an echo."

"Strike like a ghost. Collapse like thunder."

"I don't need clones…"

"…I'll create phantoms of impact."

Scene: The Mentor's Gambit – Takayoshi's Secret Prelude

Part IV – The Forge of Strikes: Concept to Cataclysm

Location: Frostveil Labyrinth, Depths 2 → Depths 3

The echo of shattering crystal faded behind him, leaving only the soft crunch of his footsteps against frost-rimed stone. Takayoshi moved deeper, his pace slow, his gaze distant.

The afterimage of the Convergence Break still shimmered faintly behind his eyes—three phantom echoes slamming inward at a single point from distinct vectors.

It had worked.

Too well.

"It's powerful," he thought.

"Too powerful."

"My limbs stiffen after execution. Reaction time drops. If the target survives…"

He flexed his hand experimentally. It trembled slightly.

"It's a finisher."

He stopped beside a frozen root that burst through the stone like a frozen tendon.

"That's the eighteenth."

His mind accepted it. Branded it.

[Eighteenth Strike – Convergence Break]

→ Final technique. Five to six phantom vectors. Simultaneous convergence on a single internal node. Fatal internal rupture. Cannot follow up. Must be last.

He stood still in the dark. Then nodded.

"Now I need sixteen. And seventeen."

The cold deepened as the path wound downward. Frost shimmered along the walls like veins of slumbering ice.

Then—

He had another thought.

"What if instead of convergence from different directions… I layered the strike?"

"Not multiple angles."

"But multiple frequencies. Same vector."

"Each wave of force moving faster than the last—stacked within the same path."

"The first softens. The second destabilizes. The third detonates."

He raised his right hand slowly. The air around his knuckles shifted.

His feet slid into stance.

A soft breath.

Then—a straight punch.

First wave—fast, direct.

Second wave—lagged slightly behind, riding the tail of the first.

Third wave—caught up just before the imagined impact point.

The air shimmered. A nearby frost-covered wall cracked—not from impact, but from something passing through it too fast to see.

But the control was sloppy. The timing between the waves was inconsistent. The force didn't converge; it clashed mid-flight.

He exhaled.

"Too far apart."

Again.

Straight punch.

Three waves. Three impacts.

Skrrrk! A nearby frostling, watching him curiously, got too close—and immediately began seizing. Its limbs convulsed, steam billowed from its chest. Then its core popped like a bubble beneath snow.

Takayoshi blinked.

"...Not bad."

He kept practicing.

Mob after mob.

Each time, three invisible pulses traveled down his strike vector, altering speed and density between them. Sometimes they scattered. Sometimes they hit the wrong organ. Once, he accidentally exploded a monster's eye from the inside—an event he neither expected nor appreciated.

"Sorry," he muttered to the twitching remains, brushing off his fist.

But each time, the timing improved.

Each iteration shortened the delay between the first and third wave.

And the result…

...became terrifying.

Eventually, the twisting tunnel opened into a vast arena.

The Midboss chamber.

A lumbering titan of ice and sinew waited at the center—a beast made of jagged frostbone and shifting pressure plates. Its head brushed the cavern ceiling, its breath froze the ground in spiked ridges. A deep growl reverberated across the chamber like thunder underwater.

The Twelve Commanders had just arrived at the rim above—on the high ledge overlooking the fight.

They didn't call out.

They just watched.

The monster charged.

Takayoshi didn't move.

He watched the charge. Studied the beast's gait. Predicted the rhythm of its core shift.

Then… stepped forward once.

And punched.

There was no explosion.

No flare.

No flash.

Just a single, smooth motion—his right arm extending into the charging beast's chest.

For a split second, the world held its breath.

Then—

BOOOOOOM.

The back of the monster erupted.

A hole the size of a carriage wheel blasted outward, spraying ice, bone, and inner crystal into the far wall like shrapnel from a divine cannon.

The beast staggered.

Then paused.

Then simply fell backward with a heavy thud.

Dead.

Takayoshi let out a breath, rolled his wrist once, and stepped away casually as the monster crumpled behind him.

Up on the ridge, the Twelve stared in stunned silence.

Finn, blinking slowly:

"…Did he punch it… into another timeline?"

Garran, hands on his hips:

"I blinked. And it ended."

Revyn, low voice:

"I'm starting to think his real class is 'Apocalyptic Chiropractor.'"

Mira, horrified but impressed:

"...There's nothing left inside it. He punched the contents out."

They descended into the chamber slowly as Takayoshi knelt beside the body.

He didn't look back as they approached.

Instead, he murmured under his breath:

"Timing still off on the third wave. Too much residual force. Overpenetration."

Selene, stepping forward, almost afraid to speak:

"What was that?"

Takayoshi stood, dusted his hands, and turned.

"A concept."

"I'm calling it the Layered Burst Principle."

"If I master it… it'll become Strike Sixteen."

He looked toward the sealed door ahead.

"Seventeen will come in between. A bridge."

He gave them a small nod.

Then walked onward, fading into the ice-misted dark.

Scene: The Mentor's Gambit – Takayoshi's Secret Prelude

Part V – The Mythral Misfire: Training Like a Legend

Location: Frostveil Depth 3 – Cleared Midboss Chamber

The boss was dead.

The floor was still warm from the impact crater where Takayoshi had casually punched the soul out of a midboss. The Twelve stood in a loose semicircle, staring at the hole in the far wall where most of the monster's everything had exited.

No one had spoken for a while.

The silence was sacred.

Or at least, awkwardly intimidating.

Selene Virellia folded her arms, her face calm, unreadable.

Revyn Mistclaw, however, broke first.

"Alright. Not to be that guy… but we need to figure out how he did that. Because I want to be able to do that. Badly."

Garran, grinning, flexed one arm and thumped his chest.

"You saw it. One punch. Boom. Monster gone. That's art."

Mira, bright-eyed and dangerous:

"I wanna punch something until it stops being solid!"

Thorne, nodding solemnly:

"Then let's begin. For honor. For glory. For… punch science."

Cue: Training Montage Begins

🎵 Over-the-top, dramatic montage music kicks in. 🎵

Think divine choirs + overly serious drumming for absolutely unserious content.

First Attempt: Garran

He faces a frostling dummy.

"Three layers of internal force," he mutters. "Speed. Timing. Power."

He punches.

A fireball explodes from his fist and vaporizes the dummy instantly.

"...I think that was just Fireball."

Revyn, deadpan:

"You layered it with combustion."

Mira, clapping:

"Boom-layered! It counts!"

Second Attempt: Mira

Mira stands in front of a dummy. She closes her eyes, exhales dramatically, then steps forward and punches—

—nothing happens.

One second later, the dummy gently falls over.

Everyone blinks.

"...That felt internal," she says proudly.

Revyn, inspecting it:

"You tickled it to death."

Third Attempt: Thorne

He roars, punches three times in rapid succession, causing a shockwave that knocks himself backward into a frozen pillar.

CRASH!

Thorne, from under rubble:

"...I think my own spine collapsed instead."

Fourth Attempt: Revyn

Revyn vanishes. Appears behind a dummy. Palm strike.

Nothing.

He vanishes again.

Appears on the ceiling. Drops. Kicks. Dummy explodes.

"That one was layered with… movement. Yeah."

Garran, squinting:

"You ninja'd it into submission."

Fifth Attempt: Sorei

Sorei notches three arrows.

Fires them in a triangle formation.

They ricochet off the walls, narrowly missing everyone, and then hit the dummy from three sides—perfect impact convergence.

Dummy explodes with comedic timing.

Everyone:

"WHOA!"

Sorei, smirking slightly:

"No fists required."

Selene stood at the far end, arms still crossed.

She had watched every attempt with the same expression: blank and unreadable. But her eyes had never left Takayoshi's footprints leading toward the next corridor.

She didn't move to join them.

Until—

Darius, finally turning to her:

"Selene, you're not going to try?"

She stepped forward silently.

Her mythic blade remained sheathed.

She faced a hardened froststone pillar, breathed in once, and struck with a palm, not her sword.

One… two… three subtle ripples.

Nothing happened.

Until a deep crack echoed from within.

The stone split from the inside out, ice veins bursting through the outer shell like blooming frost petals.

Silence.

Then a collective:

"WHAT?!"

Mira, gaping:

"Wait, you actually did it!?"

Revyn, frowning:

"Okay, no, that's illegal."

Thorne, flabbergasted:

"We're training to mimic the guy. Not marry his style!"

Selene turned her back to the cracked pillar, expression cool—but her ears slightly pink.

"It was flawed."

She looked at her hand.

"The second pulse was late."

Then she walked past them, toward the next corridor without another word.

Mira, whispering to Finn:

"She's totally gonna ask him for private lessons."

Revyn, nodding:

"Yeah. But the scary part is—he might say yes."

Scene: The Mentor's Gambit – Takayoshi's Secret Prelude

Part VI – The Sixteenth Strike & Divine Frostfall

Frostveil Labyrinth – Depth 4, Final Chamber

Boss Room: "Sanctum of Perennial Silence"

The ceiling opened into a dome of ice-veined stone, pillars spiraling like frozen roots, glowing faintly with pulse-like veins of mana. Snow didn't fall here—it floated upward, suspended like memory.

And at the center stood the dungeon's final guardian.

Name: Ysiltheron, Warden of Frozen Thrones

Level: 118

Classification: Apex Frostborne Aberrant

Body Type: Six-limbed wendigo-like frame, partially crystallized, with a spine that emitted ethereal song. Every breath it took chilled the mana in the air.

Core: Hidden beneath a shifting cage of sub-zero pressure.

Takayoshi approached alone.

The Twelve stood behind him in the shadows—silent, respectful, even reverent now. This was no longer a training exercise. They weren't the vanguard here.

He was.

The creature screamed—if you could call that sound a scream. It sounded like a choir frozen mid-prayer and shattered across a glacier.

And then it lunged.

Takayoshi vanished. Not through magic. Not speed.

Through understanding.

His body slipped between its claws, reading the timing of its gait before the legs even moved. His footwork was patient, circular, smooth.

He moved forward with a fist pulled tight to his side—

and struck.

[Prototype – Sixteenth Strike: Layered Burst]

→ A triple-layered wave strike. Each layer travels at increasing speed and impact frequency, culminating in a single delayed explosive rupture inside the target.

First wave—entry.

Second wave—resonance shift.

Third wave—detonation.

The boss reeled back.

A moment of silence.

Then—

CRAAAAACK.

The ice along its right rib burst outward.

Then its chest.

Then its upper shoulder.

It didn't die immediately. It simply stood frozen—literally—before collapsing into a heap, like its bones had been instructed to stop being bones.

The air snapped.

Mana surged.

[SYSTEM NOTICE – WORLD RULE TRIGGERED]

✦ DUNGEON CLEARED UNDER EXTREME CONDITIONS

✦ HIGH-TIER DIVINE BLESSING RECOGNIZED

✦ BESTOWING — "BLESSING OF FROSTFORGED ASCENT"

✦ RECIPIENTS: ENTIRE ACTIVE PARTY PRESENT AT COMPLETION

A shimmering spiral of celestial frost burst from above.

Twelve sparks—each with unique shape and tone—descended upon the commanders.

Even Takayoshi blinked in mild surprise.

✦ Blessing Effects:

Selene Virellia – Frostpierce: Blade techniques ignore frost-element resistances. Increased agility in cold domains.

Revyn Mistclaw – Glacial Silence: Enhances stealth within winter-based environments. Critical strikes cause memory slip.

Garran Flamecoil – Frozen Reversal: Fire magic melts and remolds frost magic around it for counterattacks.

Mira Snowveil – Winter Echo: Her spells now repeat once with 50% strength in a delayed frost burst.

Sorei Windshaper – Icevein Trajectory: Arrows can curve slightly to follow frost mana paths.

Thorne Ironstride – Cryo-Shield Infusion: Frost barriers manifest briefly when guarding heavy strikes.

…and so on.

Even Takayoshi received one.

A simple one.

Unseen Frost – Your movement will not leave heat signatures or mana trails in cold environments.

He blinked.

Then muttered, "...Cloak buff. Cute."

After the battle...

The commanders gathered in a wide corridor, breathing steam into the frozen air, light from the blessing still glimmering faintly on their armor and cloaks.

Some were sitting.

Some were stretching.

And others... were staring at Takayoshi like he'd just punched a god back into its egg.

Selene Virellia stepped forward at last.

Her blade remained sheathed, her posture calm—but her eyes focused. Not with suspicion. With interest.

"You've earned more than this blessing."

He looked at her quietly, expression neutral.

"I'd like to formally invite you to visit Mythral Dawn. We're holding a celebration. Not just for the blessing—but for your… contribution."

Before he could reply—

Revyn, smirking from the side:

"Uh huh. Celebration. Sure. This definitely isn't a private invitation, right?"

Garran, nodding solemnly:

"I've never been offered a 'celebration' after solo-clearing a dungeon."

Mira, already whispering conspiratorially:

"I bet she's gonna ask for private lessons."

Sorei, dry as ice:

"If she gets lessons, I'm bringing popcorn."

Selene's eye twitched.

Just barely.

She turned toward them with the slow, regal composure of someone who was definitely not about to murder her teammates.

"I am extending a professional invitation to someone who just saved us from getting flattened by a mana-crystalline elk with ice lungs."

Revyn, grinning:

"Right. Professional. Got it. We'll tell the kitchen to prepare a table for two—professionally."

Takayoshi, of course, remained unfazed by all of this.

He just raised one brow at Selene and said—

"If there's food, I'll come."

The group laughed.

Even Selene—after a slow exhale—let a smile curl at the corner of her lips.