"But I probably know a lot more than you do. So let me ask, what's your connection to that ice elemental, and what's your relationship with the Malrik?"
Before she answer, he changed the topic again.
"Actually, on that Malrik topic… think he likes northern wine? Or maybe fruit liqueur? I've got both."
Elara dropped her gaze. She could only see his boots, but something about his voice made her feel like cold water had been dumped over her head.
She slowly raised her head to meet his eyes. "Let me ask this clearly, " Her voice was steady, but her heart was racing. "Who the hell are you?"
"Huh?" He blinked. "Didn't I already, " Before he could finish, he calmly returned the flask to his belt, clenched his right fist, and, His punch shot past Elara's cheek, smashing into something just behind her.
BAM!!!
The air behind her exploded in a burst of icy shards. A grotesque, worm-like magical creature had been creeping toward her, until it got turned into frozen confetti.
"Who am I?" he echoed, slowly turning his head back toward her.
He bared his teeth in a grin that looked more beast than man.
Pulling his bloodied fist back from the remains of the monster, he looked her straight in the eye. "I'm your damn boss, girl."
***
"Hmm… things are getting a little too noisy over there. Time to change the tune."
Malrik could feel it, chunks of his creation had been shattered, frozen stiff, and cut off from his control. Without hesitation, he severed the corrupted sections and began patching together fresh pieces, rebuilding new instruments to keep the performance alive. Everything had to stay in rhythm.
But even the newly patched-up chorus of flesh was smashed flat beneath massive glacial peaks, turned into nothing more than red slush. The tentacles it tried to grow were sliced off clean, and even the pieces that tried to crawl away underground were silently snuffed out.
His clones hidden around the city? They were being picked off too. One by one.
Were these clueless commoners finally catching on?
"This is getting annoying…" Malrik's smile faltered as frustration crept into his voice.
He hadn't even brought any of his signature acts to this little show, and already, some brat was wrecking everything.
That tiny puppet he sent to reach out to her? Gone. Wiped out in an instant.
Looks like this little backwater town was hiding more than it let on.
"Ah…" Another flicker of his attention, and a dozen more clones vanished in the blink of an eye.
Malrik winced. If this body died, fine.
Old acts had to end before new ones could begin. But if no one ever got to witness the beauty of his show, now that would be unforgivable.
So, clearing his throat, he broadcast his voice through the massive, moaning pipes of his bone-wind organ. "Little lady, was all this violence really necessary? Couldn't you just watch the show? Even if the opening act, "
"Shut up." Before he could finish, a freezing gust blasted through. That clone froze solid in a split second, then shattered to pieces like brittle glass. There was no common ground between them.
Bryella didn't just dislike him, she hated him. His voice alone made her head throb. So she answered with colder winds, sharper strikes, and even less mercy.
The storm around her flared.
A cage of six enormous glacial blades rose from the ground. Rivers of ice surged forward, crashing into the twisted lumps of black flesh, grinding skeletons into dust.
Snow-laced winds sliced through the air, carrying countless shards shaped like snowflakes. They tore apart Malrik's warped sound structures with every pass.
But no matter how much was crushed or frozen, the black flesh didn't give up. It kept wriggling, forcing itself through the snow, clinging beneath the frost.
It was like a parasite. A stubborn infection that just wouldn't die.
The noise it gave off, screeching, distorted music soaked in dark energy, spread everywhere. It wormed its way into every mind it touched.
Not even Malrik was immune. But he could bear it.
"A real pain," Bryella muttered. Her face was pale, her breath short, and her focus strained.
The battle was wearing on her. She clenched her teeth and summoned even more snow and biting wind.
"Dammit.." Malrik was starting to feel the pressure, too. He began drawing strange symbols in the air, weaving subtle magic into the battlefield.
From the outside, it looked like a epic fight, but in truth, they were stuck. Neither could finish the other.
Bryella's ice crushed flesh, but she couldn't hit the true core.
To Malrik, it was like watching a kid trying to crack open a mountain with a wooden stick. No matter how hard she swung, it just wasn't enough.
Malrik had a different problem, he didn't have his tools. The stage wasn't ready.
The costumes, the actors, the props, everything had been interrupted and scattered. And now, some nosy girl was tearing it all apart before he could set the scene.
He was irritated. He had gone to great lengths to hide his work. How did it get exposed so suddenly?
And now that it had, he couldn't leave, not yet.
This place mattered. It was a key piece of the ritual.
A node of power. He still needed more sacrifices to complete it.
It should have been done by now. But out of nowhere, a giant dragon had shown up, tearing apart all the creatures he'd prepared as offerings. Devouring them before the ritual could even begin.
That dragon's sudden rampage had wrecked several of Malrik's ongoing rituals. And now, thanks to this girl's interference, the entire plan was a disaster.
"Wait a minute... this girl's power…" Malrik's thoughts raced as he recalled the fragments of information his scouts had sent back from the dragon encounter.
Most had been destroyed, but a few slivers of sensory feedback remained. And in those traces, he felt it. That dragon's aura had something in common with hers.
'No… it wasn't just similar. There was something deeper. A link. A thread tying the two together.'
Ice. The girl. The dragon. It was right there, but he hadn't quite figured it out yet. And then, before he could finish connecting the dots, Bryella made her move.
The stalemate had dragged on long enough.
She was done holding back. She raised her arms, the temperature around her dropping in an instant, and summoned something massive.
A dragon's head, gigantic, looming, terrifying.
It wasn't flesh and blood.
It was worse.
Wings formed from swirling blizzards. Bones shaped from frozen shards. Fangs built from layers of hard-packed frost.
The thing looked almost alive, more lifelike than any actual dragon Malrik had ever seen. But it wasn't real. It was something forged from magic.
Three long, curved horns arched from its skull. Its mouth gaped open, filled with icy razors. Jagged spines lined its back like broken blades.
Its eye sockets were hollow, but the rage pouring from it was undeniable.
It wasn't even whole. It looked skeletal, unfinished. But when it opened its jaws and roared, "ROOARRRR!!!"
The storm that erupted from its mouth howled like a hurricane.