The Genius Mage Was Reincarnated Into A Swordsman Family-Chapter 353: The City of Frozen Light
Iskandriel emerged from the northern darkness like a dream carved from moonlight and starlight. Klaus’s breath caught in his throat as Dudu carried them closer to Runiya’s fourth marvel. Shaped like a perfect octagon, the city spread across the frozen landscape, three times larger than any capital Klaus had ever seen. At its heart stood the Ice Palace, a spire of crystalline architecture that pierced the night sky like a frozen flame.
Everything in Iskandriel was crafted from ice — homes, towers, bridges, even the roads beneath, which rivers of frigid water flowed. The city glowed with an inner luminescence as thousands of enchanted crystals embedded in the ice captured and refracted the moonlight. Each building shimmered with shifting colors, creating a light that overlapped in quiet harmony, dancing across snow and stone. Ice bridges connected floating platforms suspended in midair, and frozen waterfalls stood motionless like frozen time itself.
Klaus had read about Iskandriel in Tomas Veil’s scholarly texts and heard tales from the Lionhart estate, but nothing prepared him for its breathtaking reality. The city was ruled by eight ancient families and the legendary Ice Queen — a principality that remained proudly independent despite the Rikxia Empire’s attempts at conquest. The eight ruling families had earned Iskandriel its other name: the Eight Gates City.
This was Klaus’s first time seeing Iskandriel in any of his past lives. In this moment, he understood why it was considered unconquerable. The city wasn’t just built on ice — it was ice, alive and breathing with ancient magic that had withstood centuries of sieges and political maneuvering.
"Beautiful, isn’t it?" Klaus murmured to Dudu, who rumbled in agreement beneath him. The Night Dragon’s golden eyes reflected the city’s glow as they circled lower, approaching the central palace.
Dudu suddenly arched his neck and unleashed a roar that shattered the northern silence — a deep, resonant sound that carried for miles. It was a traditional dragon greeting, an announcement of their presence, but Klaus immediately sensed his mistake.
The city responded instantly.
A shimmering dome of blue-white light erupted from the eight outer gates, expanding rapidly to encase the entire city in a protective barrier. The mana shield pulsed with power that made Klaus’s skin prickle. Ancient runes flared to life along its surface—wards against intrusion and especially dragons.
"What in the—?" Klaus began, but his words were cut off by a high-pitched whistling sound.
From strategic points along the city’s perimeter, ballistae launched glowing projectiles into the night sky. Not ordinary spears — these were mana-infused ballistic lances designed to pierce any defenses and, more so, dragon scales. Dozens of them streaked toward Dudu with terrifying speed.
’Left!’ Klaus shouted mentally through their bond. Dudu banked sharply, folding his wings to reduce his profile. The first volley sailed harmlessly past, their light briefly illuminating the surprised faces of guards along the city walls.
Klaus felt no anger at their reaction. In their position, he would have done the same. To suddenly see a dragon — especially a Night Dragon, whose species was believed extinct for millennia — circling your city was understandably threatening. 𝐟𝕣𝕖𝐞𝐰𝕖𝚋𝐧𝗼𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝗰𝐨𝐦
"Captain Veyl, status report!" a voice called from one of the watchtowers.
"Hostile dragon, sir! Massive specimen! Black scales, golden eyes—it’s evading our first volley!" came the response.
"Impossible," another voice muttered. "Night Dragons were eradicated during the Third Calamity. This must be some kind of illusion or summoned beast."
"Doesn’t matter what it is, Lieutenant," the captain snapped back. "Protocol is clear. Any unidentified aerial entity that breaches our perimeter gets shot down. Load the frost-tipped spears. I want this creature grounded before it reaches the palace."
Dudu evaded the second volley with impossible grace, twisting midair as if space itself bent to accommodate his movements. The ballistic spears flashed past them, exploding harmlessly against the city’s mana shield.
"Third volley, ready!" the captain’s voice echoed across the walls. "Aim for the wings—cripple it but don’t kill if we can avoid it. That’s a valuable specimen."
Klaus watched the soldiers with appreciation despite their hostility. Their discipline was impeccable, their movements precise and practiced. This wasn’t a panicked militia—it was a professional military force that had earned Iskandriel its reputation as the impenetrable city.
But then something shifted.
Dudu’s effortless evasion seemed to trigger something in the defenders. Perhaps it was the implication that their most advanced weapons could be dodged so casually. Maybe it was the realization that this wasn’t just any dragon—they were facing what might be the last of a legendary species.
Hundreds of ballistae reset simultaneously, their mechanisms clicking in perfect unison. Klaus felt his blood run cold as he saw the sheer number of weapons being loaded—not dozens, but hundreds. Thousands.
"They’re not taking any chances," Klaus muttered. "Dudu, get ready to climb."
"Fire at will!" Captain Veyl’s command echoed across the city.
The night sky exploded with light as thousands of ballistic spears launched simultaneously. It wasn’t a volley—it was a wall of light, a tsunami of mana-infused projectiles racing toward them with enough force to pierce through mountains. The combined whistle of their passage created a deafening roar that drowned out all other sound.
"Higher!" Klaus shouted, gripping Dudu’s scales tightly. "Get above them!"
Dudu folded his wings completely, going into a steep dive before abruptly snapping them open wide. The maneuver created a powerful updraft that propelled them skyward at impossible speed. The wall of spears passed beneath them, close enough that Klaus could feel their heat.
"Impossible!" the lieutenant’s voice carried faintly from below. "Nothing can move that fast!"
"Reload!" Captain Veyl ordered, his voice tight with urgency. "They’re testing our defenses. This isn’t just a dragon—there’s a rider. An intelligent being on its back. Alert the palace guard. We have an intruder who can evade our primary defenses."
Klaus felt a strange admiration for these soldiers. They weren’t panicking despite facing what they believed to be an impossible threat. They were adapting, recalculating, preparing for round two. This was why Iskandriel had remained independent when every other northern territory had fallen under the Lionhart banner.
As they climbed higher, the city unfolded beneath them like a frozen jewel. Klaus could see the eight ruling families’ districts arranged in perfect symmetry around the central palace. Each district had its own distinct architectural style—some resembling crystalline forests, others like frozen waves or geometric masterpieces. Bridges of light connected the districts, and canals of liquid moonlight flowed beneath the streets.
The situation was becoming serious. If they fired another volley, Klaus would need to defend himself, and that might escalate into a diplomatic incident that could ruin his mission before it began. Emperor, Patriarch Roman Lionhart had sent him as an envoy, not an invader.
Taking a deep breath, Klaus gathered mana into his throat and chest, preparing a projection technique he had learned in his life as General Valkus of the Iron Empire1. This wasn’t just about volume—it was about resonance, about making his voice carry with authority that would penetrate the city’s defenses and reach every ear within Iskandriel.
As the ballistae reset below, their mechanisms clicking with ominous finality, Klaus focused his will. Ice formed around his throat in perfect harmonic patterns, amplifying his voice while giving it an otherworldly quality that would command attention.
When he spoke, his voice wasn’t just loud—it was everywhere at once, resonating through the very ice of the city, vibrating in the bones of every resident, cutting through the night like a blade of pure sound.
"I AM KLAUS LIONHART, ENVOY OF THE RIKXIA EMPIRE—"
His declaration hung in the frozen air, silencing the city below. The ballistae froze mid-cock. Guards stared upward, their weapons forgotten. Even the wind seemed to pause in reverence.
Inside the highest tower of the Ice Palace, a figure with hair like spun moonlight looked up from her ancient texts, her pale blue eyes widening in surprise.
"—AND I REQUEST AN AUDIENCE WITH THE ICE QUEEN."
The silence that followed was absolute. Then, from below, a single voice broke the stillness.
"Captain... what do we do now?"
Klaus waited, his white hair lashed by the thin, high-altitude wind, eyes fixed on the city that had defied empires for centuries. Below, thousands watched in silence, gazes lifted, waiting to see what the Rikxia Empire’s envoy would do next
Reread Chapter 217 for more info about General Valkus of the Iron Empire.
