“Lyrien, come on, hurry! Look—Toma’s family is sitting right there!”

  “Wait, Arlen, I’m really nervous!”

  “Relax, I’m here. I’ve been on good terms with Toma’s family for a long time, and trust me—they’re really kind. You have absolutely nothing to be afraid of!”

  After that, Arlen and Lyrien introduced themselves to Toma’s family.

  Emion looked surprised.

  “Well now, Arlen, who did you bring with you? Your girlfriend?”

  Arlen burst out laughing.

  “Of course not! She’s my classmate, Lyrien. You know—the one Toma saved the other day.”

  Understanding dawned on Emion immediately.

  “Oh, of course—the young noble lady! Toma’s friend!” His gaze shifted to Lyrien. “Sorry for not recognizing you right away!”

  Lyrien remained polite and reserved, doing her best to make a good impression on Toma’s family.

  “It’s really no problem.”

  Demia chimed in next.

  “My, you’re such a pretty girl. Come, sit next to me! I’m Toma’s mother!”

  She lifted Nira from the seat beside her and settled the girl onto her lap.

  “Come on, Nira, sit here so Lyrien can take this spot.”

  But the moment Lyrien sat down, Nira asked an awkward question.

  “Um… are you Brother Toma’s girlfriend?”

  Lyrien’s face instantly turned bright red.

  “N-no… no… we’re just friends and classmates! Your brother helped me a lot while I was training.”

  Demia smiled warmly.

  “Well, every relationship starts with friendship. But tell me—how did you meet Toma? What kind of relationship do you have?”

  That helped Lyrien relax a little. Feeling the genuine kindness of Toma’s family, she began telling Demia everything.

  Seeing that things were going smoothly, Arlen took the empty seat beside Emion.

  ***

  In the VIP section, the captains were also watching the final with great interest. Captain Lysell sat quietly in his chair, observing the match with an icy gaze. Not far from him, Captain Elarion sat with his arms crossed, while the others remained on their feet.

  As usual, Captain Zarek couldn’t resist drawing attention to himself.

  “Well, well—Captain Lysell looks like he’s watching the match with a literally freezing stare. Are you that nervous about your grandson’s fight?”

  Matas Lysell gave a slow nod, his tone softer and more measured than usual.

  “Yes. I won’t deny that I’m rooting for Arvian, of course. But his blue-haired friend is strong as well—a warrior worthy of respect.”

  Zarek nodded approvingly.

  “What a wise way to put it!” His gaze shifted toward Captain Elarion. “And what do you think, Captain Elarion?”

  “I honestly can’t say who will win. Both boys are equally skilled. My prediction didn’t work out last time, so this time I’ll remain neutral.”

  “That’s fair!” Zarek laughed, then turned again. “And what about you, Captain Silren? You predicted the winner correctly last time…”

  Silren answered with his usual cheerful smile.

  “Oh my, that’s a tough one, Captain Zarek! I’m rooting for the blue-haired boy, but the ice-type seems more trained and experienced…”

  “You’re right! I’m rooting for Toma as well!” Zarek added, then tried to catch Captain Thalia’s eye. “So what about you, Thalia? Who are you rooting for?”

  Thalia stood with her arms crossed, unimpressed.

  “Toma. Obviously.”

  Zarek put on an exaggerated, thoughtful expression.

  “Huh… just what does this Toma have that girls are so crazy about? He’s a pretty handsome guy—just like me…”

  Thalia let out a sigh.

  “That’s not why I’m rooting for him, you idiot. He saved my family—and he’s a good friend of my sister, Lyrien. Besides, I find him quite likable.”

  Zarek grinned.

  “Well, that’s good to know. Guess I still have a chance with you, then!”

  Thalia scoffed.

  Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

  “If I had to choose, I’d pick Toma over you without hesitation.”

  “Hey now, don’t be so cold to me…” Zarek sighed. “You’re colder than the Ice Division's captain!”

  ***

  Meanwhile, the match in the arena had already begun. Toma took the initiative, launching a flurry of Blue Nova strikes right away. Arvian answered by raising an ice spike, blocking the attacks one after another. But Toma didn’t let up—his Nova strikes kept coming, faster and faster each time.

  Arvian could feel himself being pushed into a tight spot, yet he continued to block Toma’s relentless assault with ice. Still, one thing became clear: with every exchange, Arvian was forced to retreat further and further.

  He was now dangerously close to the edge of the arena.

  Damn it—I’m giving Toma too much space! I need more room!

  Toma seized the opening and suddenly appeared right beside him, moving at a speed the human eye could barely track.

  Even the commentator stared in disbelief.

  “Incredible speed from Toma! It’s almost like he teleported right in front of Arvian!”

  A kick came flying in from behind, aimed straight at Arvian. At the last moment, his reflexes kicked in, allowing him to twist away from the blow.

  Even Arvian was caught off guard.

  Fast… I need to be more careful!

  Staying close, Toma pressed the advantage, continuing his assault with rapid punches. One strike, empowered by Nova energy, shot toward Arvian—but he was no stranger to close combat and narrowly dodged it.

  Arvian retaliated with a sharp kick to Toma’s side. It wasn’t especially powerful, but Toma remained alert—because a split second later, an ice spike shot straight toward his head.

  A backward somersault carried Toma just out of harm’s way.

  Arvian attacked again, this time freezing the ground beneath them, aiming to lock Toma’s legs in ice.

  But Toma did the unexpected. He leapt into the air and, in a single fluid motion, delivered a spinning kick—his heel slamming directly into Arvian’s head.

  The impact left Arvian dizzy, and Toma didn’t waste the chance.

  A kick to the ribs. A punch to the stomach. Toma unleashed a relentless barrage, while Arvian’s reactions grew slower by the second.

  I have to think of something! He’s stronger than me in close combat!

  An ice wall rose in front of Toma in an instant—but it barely slowed him down. The wall shattered under his attack.

  Arvian fell back and erected another one.

  This time, when Toma broke through, a sudden beam of ice shot forward, slamming into him and sending him flying all the way to the opposite end of the arena.

  Toma landed on his feet—and smiled.

  “Well done. I didn’t expect that,” he admitted calmly. “But this still won’t be enough.”

  Arvian focused. He didn’t rush forward.

  He didn’t take a single step, yet the arena began to change. The air cooled, and the stone floor responded with a faint cracking sound as a thin layer of ice spread across it—not quickly, not spectacularly, but deliberately.

  Toma felt the shift before he saw it. The cold didn’t bite; it pressed down, as if the entire space were slowly slipping into Arvian’s grasp.

  The ice wasn’t cold.

  It was intentional.

  Toma truly understood that when the ground beneath him didn’t simply freeze—it changed direction. Along the cracks between the stone slabs, thin veins of ice surged forward, then suddenly rose, as if the earth itself were rebelling against him.

  Arvian wasn’t attacking directly.

  He was building.

  The air crystallized, every breath growing sharper. The ice didn’t erupt all at once, but formed layer by layer, following precise patterns. Toma could see it clearly now—this wasn’t instinct.

  This was planning.

  He’s trapping the space…

  The Blue Nova pulsed quietly within him, almost like a warning. Toma stepped forward, but his foot slipped. He didn’t fall—yet the movement no longer felt entirely his own.

  From the commentator’s booth came a sharp observation.

  “Arvian has taken control of the arena. This ice isn’t attacking—it’s dominating.”

  Arvian raised his hand.

  Ice assembled in the air, forming long, narrow spikes. They didn’t fire. They hovered. For a brief moment, they remained motionless, like a stretched net.

  Then they moved—all at once.

  Not toward Toma.

  But in front of him.

  The spikes slammed into the ground, and in that instant, new layers of ice spread outward, raising walls and leaving only a narrow corridor down the center. Toma instinctively broke into a run—straight along the path Arvian had prepared for him.

  “Ice used as a guiding tool!” the commentator exclaimed. “You rarely see execution this clean!”

  Toma felt himself being herded. At the end of the corridor, the ice thickened, growing denser, as if a single massive block were waiting for him. If he crashed into it, he’d stop.

  And if he stopped—Arvian would strike.

  The Blue Nova flared.

  Toma didn’t slow down.

  The energy surged forward like a blue wave. When it collided with the ice wall, it didn’t explode—it transformed it. Cracks raced across the surface before the structure shattered, unable to withstand the distortion of space itself.

  Toma burst through.

  But Arvian was already there.

  One step. Perfect timing.

  Ice wrapped around Arvian’s arm—not thick, but tight, like a binding strap cinched around muscle and bone. Another layer snapped shut around Toma’s ankle.

  He went down hard.

  The impact knocked the air from his lungs. The Blue Nova surged, but the ice held firm. As Arvian stepped closer, the cold changed—no longer temperature, but pressure.

  “This is a dangerous moment!” the commentator shouted. “Arvian isn’t destroying—he’s sealing!”

  Toma looked up.

  Arvian’s expression was calm, focused. Behind him, the ice shifted slowly, almost like it was breathing in sync with him.

  Now… or never.

  The Blue Nova was unleashed.

  Not in a single direction.

  Not as an explosion.

  But as an impulse.

  The space around Toma trembled. The ice bindings shattered, veins along the ground splitting apart. Arvian stepped back—not in panic, but in realization.

  “And here comes the raw side of the Blue Nova!” the commentator cried.

  Toma rose to his feet. The blue light no longer clung just to his body—it lingered in the air, as if each movement left an echo behind.

  Arvian didn’t retreat for long.

  The ice shifted into a new form. No walls. No spikes. Mirror-like plates rose at sharp angles. Toma attacked, the Blue Nova struck—but the energy slid across the ice surface, bent, and reflected back.

  Toma hurled himself sideways just in time.

  “This is unbelievable!” the voice echoed. “Arvian is redirecting attacks with ice!”

  The pace accelerated. Ice surfaces appeared and vanished in rapid succession, turning the arena into a shifting battlefield. Toma adapted, moved, reacted—but with every exchange, he could feel it.

  Arvian was always half a step ahead.

  Then something changed.

  The ice hesitated.

  Only for an instant—but Toma noticed.

  The Blue Nova responded, refining itself. It no longer tried to break through everything. It waited.

  When Arvian raised another ice mirror, Toma didn’t strike with full force. He released a narrow, concentrated thrust instead.

  The energy slipped past the ice—

  and detonated behind Arvian.

  The arena shook. Arvian turned, raising his guard—but Toma was already moving, blue light trailing him like a shadow.

  Arvian tried to reclaim control. The ice thickened, grew heavier, more brutal. A single massive block surged upward, threatening to seal off half the arena.

  Toma didn’t stop.

  The Blue Nova condensed, collapsing into a single, pure impulse. When it struck the ice mass, it didn’t shatter it—it pushed through. Cracks spread in a chain reaction as the structure collapsed.

  Arvian dropped to one knee.

  This wasn’t defeat.

  It was realization.

  The ice still obeyed him—but it no longer dictated the fight. Across from him, Toma stood panting, bathed in blue light. The Blue Nova around him was stable now.

  Controlled.

  “This is no longer just power…” the commentator said quietly. “This is dominance.”

  Arvian slowly looked up. There was no fear in his eyes—only calculation. But his body hesitated, and the ice answered him more slowly than before.

  Toma didn’t press the attack.

  But he was ready.

  The arena fell silent.

  The ice didn’t melt.

  The blue light didn’t fade.

  But the balance had shifted—permanently.

  And now, everyone could see it.