FROST-Chapter 47: The Demon’s Shadow

"Holy freakin’ crack," Silvermist muttered under her breath, her chest tightening as her wide eyes darted desperately from one blur to another.

She strained to follow the fight, but the sheer speed was beyond human comprehension. All she could see were flashes — violent bursts of light as steel collided with raw mana in midair, sending sparks scattering like swarms of fireflies trapped in a storm.

The cavern trembled beneath their clash. The echo of each impact resonated deep in her bones — metallic shrieks and thunderclaps blending into an overwhelming cacophony.

Every second, a shockwave pulsed through the air, forcing Silvermist to stumble back and shield her face from shards of shattered stone and the swirling dust.

At one moment, Xavier’s form materialized just enough for her to catch a glimpse — his crimson hair trailing like liquid fire as he brought down his massive silver blade, its edge crackling with destructive magic.

But before the blade could touch the ground, West was already there — his hand glowing faintly with violet energy, intercepting the sword with just his forearm, deflecting it at the last second. The force of the clash created a blast wave so strong it ripped fissures through the cavern floor and sent gusts of wind screaming past her ears.

Silvermist gasped and threw herself behind a boulder, heart hammering wildly in her chest. But even from behind cover, she could feel the magic colliding — the suffocating weight of Xavier’s ancient, oppressive power pressing down on her lungs, and the eerie cold of West’s controlled, dark mana slicing through the chaos.

Sparks danced like shooting stars every time their magics met — purple lightning crackling and spiraling around West’s movements, while Xavier’s attacks left behind burning streaks of red light that lingered for moments in the air before fading. Each movement was too fast, too fluid.

One second, West was beside the cavern wall, boots barely touching the crumbling rock; the next, he was upside-down mid-flip, parrying Xavier’s blade with the back of his palm before kicking off thin air and vanishing in a streak of violet.

Then — a pulse. The cavern shook. A pillar of energy erupted from the center of the battle, slamming into the ceiling and dislodging massive rocks that tumbled down like meteors. Silvermist screamed and rolled out of the way, coughing through dust and debris.

And yet, amidst the chaos, neither Xavier nor West paused. They were beyond human now — ancient power clashing with hidden potential. West’s face was eerily calm, movements sharp and surgical, every step calculated. Xavier, on the other hand, fought with brutal elegance, his smirk ever-present, his strikes wide and devastating, designed to break rather than outmaneuver.

Silvermist’s vision blurred from the overwhelming energy radiating between them — crackles of mana so dense it felt as though the air itself was being shredded. Each swing carved shockwaves into the cavern walls. Each deflection rang like church bells at the end of the world.

She clutched her chest, trying to catch her breath as the sheer scale of the battle overwhelmed her senses.

West is only an apprentice, just like myself, she thought desperately, her fingers trembling as she gripped the jagged edge of the boulder. How on earth is he able to spar with an elf wielding magic that ancient and heavy... with nothing but his bare hands?

Her breath hitched, a cold shiver crawling up her spine. She blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of what she was witnessing. The sheer force behind each of West’s movements — the way he absorbed attacks that should’ve broken bones, the smoothness with which he countered every strike, never once flinching, never once looking overwhelmed — it was beyond training. It was beyond talent.

Her eyes widened, heart thundering against her ribcage. It must be... she realized, a whisper of dread and awe creeping into her mind. It must be because of the vessel the elf was talking about. The incarnation of their king... is truly West.

The cavern quaked with such ferocity that Silvermist thought it might finally collapse entirely. The very air seemed to twist and scream as the violet aura of West and the deep crimson force of Xavier collided with a deafening explosion in the center of the battleground.

For a split second, there was only light — blinding, searing light that devoured color and shape — before the two forces violently repelled each other. A shockwave erupted, splitting the ground apart and sending jagged fissures racing across the cavern floor. Dust, remaining loose stones, and chunks of the ceiling rained down once more in torrents as both figures were hurled backward by the sheer magnitude of their clash, crashing against opposite ends of the cavern.

But even amidst the destruction, both landed on their feet — West with effortless precision, boots skidding lightly against the cracked ground, his breath steady, aura still flickering ominously around him. Across from him, however, Xavier’s footing faltered for the first time.

Silvermist’s sharp gaze caught the subtle tremors running down the elf’s arms, the faint, involuntary shudders in his grip on his massive silver blade. His breath came in sharp, uneven pulls, chest rising and falling beneath the torn remnants of his cloak. Slowly — almost with defiance rather than fatigue — he lifted his chin, a crooked grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

And then, in one small, telling motion, he allowed the tip of his sword to dip down, the gleaming metal meeting the ground with a hollow clang that echoed in the suddenly heavy silence.

Xavier chuckled — hoarse, breathless, but laced with dark amusement. His crimson eyes still burned with the fire of battle, but there was acknowledgment now, something almost like respect flickering in their depths.

"As expected..." he rasped, his voice raw yet steady, "from our King’s vessel." The words fell like thunder, final and inescapable, bouncing off the broken walls around them.

Silvermist’s breath formed painfully in her throat, be there nothing she could do but watch. Her hands trembled against the boulder she used as cover. If West wanted to, he could have killed those elves earlier even within the thick mists, but he didn’t. Why was he trying to hide this massive mana he has?

This wasn’t just magic; it wasn’t something that could be explained by rigorous training or raw talent. What she had seen was beyond mortal capability — West’s barehanded deflection of ancient elven magic, his sheer endurance, the calm calculation in his every move, the controlled, suffocating presence of his mana swirling in shades of deep violet and black like a storm barely contained. No apprentice should be able to stand on equal ground with someone like Xavier — not even close.

Silvermist had read somewhere in the library books that elves are incredibly powerful creatures, let alone the elders, yet West is fighting against one without even breaking a sweat.

Her eyes darted back to him. He stood there in the aftermath of their collision, his uniform torn in places, dust clinging to his hair and skin, but his breathing still measured, his gaze steady, unwavering.

There was no arrogance in his posture, only acceptance — as though he had known all along what he carried within him, and had long come to terms with it. His hands flexed once at his sides, dark energy curling around his fingers like smoke, responding instinctively to his unspoken will. He wasn’t fighting to prove something; he was fighting because it was inevitable.

Xavier straightened slightly, wiping a trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. His grin remained, though the weight behind it had shifted. "You’re holding back," he said, almost accusingly, his voice dropping low with fascination.

"I can feel it... That power inside you... you’ve only scratched the surface." He pointed his sword forward once more, though his arm shook with effort. "Come now, vessel. Show me how much of our king truly sleeps inside you."

West’s eyes narrowed just slightly, the faintest twitch in his brow betraying annoyance. His voice, when he finally spoke, was quiet and cold, like distant thunder on the horizon. "You wouldn’t survive it."

Xavier laughed, a hoarse bark that rang through the cavern like a madman’s joy. "Let me decide that!" he roared, and once again lunged forward, his aura flaring with reckless abandon.

And West moved to meet him — not as an apprentice, not as a student — but as something far older, far greater, and infinitely more terrifying.

"I warned you," West muttered, his voice low and cold, barely audible over the crackling tension in the air.

Xavier only laughed, though it was strained — a sound full of bravado masking exhaustion. fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm

He lifted his sword higher, its trembling tip pointed toward the ceiling in mockery, even as he felt the suffocating surge of mana swelling from West like a rising tide. His smirk faltered for half a second. That’s right, he thought, defiance flashing in his crimson eyes. Come at me—

He never finished the thought.

In an instant, West vanished from his sight. A gust of wind hit Xavier’s face, and before he could even process it, West was there — inches away, his presence overwhelming and extremely suffocating. For the briefest moment, everything slowed. Xavier’s breath caught in his throat as he met West’s gaze.

Those eyes... glowing with an unnatural, piercing violet light, shimmering with ancient fury and power restrained only by the thinnest thread of control. It was like staring into the abyss and seeing it stare back.

And then, reality snapped.

West’s fist collided with Xavier’s stomach with earth-shattering force. The impact detonated like a cannon blast, sending shockwaves that fractured the stone beneath their feet. Xavier’s body was lifted off the ground like a mannequin, propelled backward with terrifying speed.

His sword slipped from his hand mid-air, spinning uselessly as his body slammed into the cavern wall with a deafening crack. The rock split and caved beneath him, jagged lines webbing out from the point of impact. He was embedded there for a heartbeat — pinned by sheer force — before gravity took hold and he dropped limply to the ground, coughing up blood, his limbs twitching.

Silvermist could only stare, frozen in horror and awe. Her wide eyes wobbled, struggling to comprehend what she had just witnessed. Moments ago, Xavier’s power had been overwhelming, ancient and suffocating — the kind of strength that made the air heavy, that shook the cavern with every move. But now... that presence was fading.

She could feel it slipping away with each shallow breath he took, his aura dimming like a dying ember. He was alive — just barely — but utterly broken.

Her gaze shifted slowly, almost fearfully, toward West.

He stood there, motionless, his back straight, his arms relaxed at his sides as though the devastating punch had cost him nothing. His dark hair, once neatly kept, now hung over his eyes, longer than before — or perhaps it only seemed that way in the eerie stillness of the aftermath. But even behind the curtain of black strands, she could see it. That glow. That terrible, beautiful violet gleam burning beneath, flickering like an ancient star.

The cavern, once roaring with violent energy, had fallen deathly silent. Only the faint whistle of wind seeped through the massive crack in the stone ceiling, letting moonlight spill down onto West’s form. The pale light kissed his skin, highlighting the subtle wisps of mist curling from his body, rising like smoke from embers, dissipating into the cold air. Even his breath steamed visibly, each exhale releasing the remnants of unimaginable power.

Silvermist’s lips quivered. She could hardly speak, her throat tight with fear, confusion, and something close to reverence. Her heart pounded like a war drum in her chest. "W-West," she finally breathed, her voice barely a whisper.

This man... this person standing in front of her, bathed in violet light and silence... he was no apprentice. He was no mere human or if she can even call him that. He was something far more terrifying.

This man... is truly a demon.

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