I Died and Became a Noble's Heir-Chapter 452: Ice Drake

He could cast his most expensive spells without hesitation now instead of rationing every bit of mana.

"Jack's a genius," Rhys said quietly, storing the empty vial back in his pouch. "These potions are going to change how mages fight. No more running out of mana in the middle of a fight. You don't have to choose between survival and conserving resources."

'Assuming they can afford them,' Slyph pointed out. 'Those potions aren't cheap.'

"Yeah, they're not, but even so he's charging a fraction of the price everyone else does," Rhys replied, starting toward the chamber's exit. "Come on. We have a Drake to kill."

They advanced deeper into the fortress, following corridors that grew progressively more elaborate.

The walls here were covered in carvings from scenes of battles, hunting parties, and what looked like coronation ceremonies.

The Ice Drake wasn't just a monster occupying this fortress. It was the fortress's intended ruler, the apex predator that the entire structure had been built to house.

The corridors opened into a final massive chamber.

The throne room loomed before him.

The space was enormous, easily two hundred feet across and a hundred feet tall. Pillars of crystalline ice rose to support a vaulted ceiling carved with intricate patterns depicting what appeared to be draconic genealogy.

And at the far end of the chamber, on a raised dais, sat a throne of ice.

On that throne lounged the Ice Drake.

The creature was smaller than Rhys had expected for something approaching Nightmare-rank.

Thirty feet long from nose to tail, with a wingspan that was forty feet when fully extended.

Its scales were pristine white, almost glowing in the cold light that filled the chamber, and its eyes were the same star-bright gold that Rhys had seen in paintings of ancient dragons.

Drake's head turned toward Rhys as he entered, its golden eyes beaming as it looked at him like it had found a toy.

This wasn't a mindless beast. This was a creature that was only a step away from becoming a dragon.

The Drake rose slowly, its movements reflecting the assured elegance of an entity that had consistently prevailed within its domain.

Ice magic radiated from its body in visible waves, making the air shimmer and the temperature drop even further.

"A human," the Drake said, its voice surprisingly cultured despite the draconic accent. "And a young one at that. Tell me, little mage. Did you kill all my servants in the entry hall?"

Rhys blinked in surprise. The creature could speak. That... complicated things.

"I did," Rhys replied, deciding honesty was probably safer than attempted deception. "They attacked when I entered. I defended myself."

"Of course they attacked," the Drake said as he chuckled. "That was their purpose. To defend my fortress from intruders. And now they're dead, and you stand before me, depleted and exhausted, with barely enough stamina to remain upright."

The Drake's golden eyes studied Rhys with the same analytical precision that Pho used when evaluating combat capability.

"Yet your mana reserves are full. That's... interesting. Most mages who fight their way through my fortress arrive here magically exhausted. You've found some method of recovery that allows you to restore your tank mid-conquest."

Rhys didn't respond, his hands tightening on Tempest's Edge. The Drake was intelligent, observant, and clearly not planning to make this easy.

"I'll make you an offer, little mage," the Drake continued, as it teased Rhys. "Leave now. Retreat from my fortress, ascend to a higher floor, and I'll allow you to live. You've demonstrated skill. Enough that I respect your capability even as I recognize you're not yet ready to challenge me."

'That's generous,' Slyph said from within. 'Nightmare-rank entities don't usually offer quarter.'

"I need to clear this floor," Rhys said quietly. "I have forty-nine days to reach Floor Ten, which means I can't afford to retreat and try again later."

The Drake's expression shifted.

While quite a smile, his expression conveyed approval. "Ambitious. Foolish, but ambitious. Very well then, little mage. Let me show you the difference between Dread-rank enemies and something approaching true power."

The Drake launched itself from the throne with explosive force, its wings spreading as it took flight.

Ice magic erupted around its body in a visible aura, and suddenly, the entire throne room temperature dropped so dramatically that frost began forming on Rhys's armor in seconds.

Rhys didn't wait for the Drake to complete its transformation. He extended both hands and cast the widest-area water spell he could manage.

"Deluge!"

Water erupted from every direction.

Pulled from the air, from the ice covering the walls and floor, and from the moisture Rhys hadn't even known was present.

The throne room floor flooded in seconds, water rising to ankle depth, then knee depth, spreading across the entire massive chamber.

The Drake roared.

The sound that shook the pillars and made ice crystals fall from the ceiling like snow, but Rhys was already moving. He activated Wind Step and launched himself to the side as the Drake's first attack came.

A beam of pure freezing energy erupted from the Drake's maw, striking where Rhys had been standing with enough force to freeze the water solid in a ten-foot radius.

The ice was so cold that it cracked and shattered from thermal stress even as it formed.

Rhys landed in the water twenty feet away, both daggers raised and lightning already crackling along their edges. He stabbed both blades into the flooded floor and channeled everything he had.

"STORM CURRENT!"

Lightning exploded from Tempest's Edge with an intensity that made his previous uses of the technique look like practice exercises.

The electrical current spread through the water covering the entire throne room floor, creating a grid of blue electricity that covered fifteen thousand square feet.

The Drake, still airborne, was immune to the ground-based attack. But Rhys hadn't been targeting the Drake directly.

He'd been setting up the battlefield.

The water was now electrified, turning the entire floor into a lethal trap for anything that came into contact with it. The Drake couldn't land without taking severe electrical damage, so it had to stay airborne, limiting its mobility and attack angles.

'Smart!' Slyph's voice carried approval, but she sounded concerned. 'But you just spent a quarter of your mana on that setup. You can't maintain that level of output for long.'

Rhys knew she was right.

The electrified water was rapidly draining his mana reserves.

He had perhaps two minutes before he'd have to drop the technique or risk complete magical exhaustion.

Two minutes to kill a Nightmare-rank entity. That was a tall feat for Rhys.

The Drake seemed to recognize the tactical situation immediately. Its golden eyes narrowed, and it began casting something that made the ambient temperature plummet even further.

Rhys didn't give it time to complete whatever apocalyptic spell it was preparing. He pulled one dagger from the water, aimed carefully, and threw it with all his might.

The blade spun through the air with perfect balance, its trajectory guided by wind magic that Rhys channeled around it.

The Drake tried to dodge, but Rhys adjusted the wind currents mid-flight, making the dagger curve in an impossible arc.

The blade struck the Drake's left wing, punching through the membrane between two of the wing bones.