Outside, tension simmered in the air like a storm about to break.
A group of masked men stood before the towering gates of the ice castle. Their presence was suffocating. Fully armed, they radiated deadly intent. Each of them wore thick, plated armor inscribed with strange black runes. Their movements were sharp and trained—military precision.
And leading them…
Mira stood tall and looked around fiercely.
Her fiery red hair whipped in the cold wind like a battle flag. The moment her boots touched the snowy steps of the palace, the air seemed to burn around her. She stood still, her gaze locked forward, filled with determination—and challenge.
Opposite them, a host of Ice Elves had formed a defensive formation. Their blue-white cloaks fluttered in the wind, and the aura they exuded was sharp—chilling, literally. Ice crackled along their blades and their breath was cold mist.
