Imprisoned for a Trillion Years, I Was Worshipped by All Gods!-Chapter 576 - 132-The Host of the Primal Spirit of Frost

"No! Stop... stop saying that…"

The black-dressed girl advanced step by step, causing Isabella to break down in sobs.

But just as suddenly, the girl's demeanor changed. She gently pulled Isabella into a warm embrace and spoke to her with a voice so tender it seemed to melt the frost itself:

"Isabella, the things I said earlier weren't meant to scare you. I said them so you would see the truth clearly."

"If you don't want to hold Alan back, then you must gain the power to protect yourself."

"And even that won't be enough. One day, Alan will face dangers of his own, and when that time comes… he'll need your strength too."

"Brother... needs my strength?"

Hearing those words, Isabella lowered her head in confusion and stared blankly at her own hands.

It felt unrealistic—too far-fetched. Her brother was so powerful. How could someone as weak as her ever be needed by him?

As if sensing Isabella's thoughts, the black-dressed girl raised a hand and gently tapped her forehead with a finger.

In that instant, the surrounding ground froze over in a thick layer of shimmering frost, spreading several meters outward like a breath of winter.

Even the enchanted faucet—fed by mana—sputtered and ceased its flow, completely blocked by the sudden drop in temperature.

Isabella panicked and stumbled backward, trying instinctively to get away from the icy surface.

But the black-dressed girl held her firmly by the shoulders and forced her to look.

"Don't run from it! This is your power."

"Deep within your soul resides the Primal Spirit of Frost. All the ice and snow in this world—every shard, every flake—they exist to serve you as their master!"

"I come from the Sanctuary of Winter, a place devoted to the worship of that very Spirit. Join us, Isabella. If you do, I promise you this—in less than three years, all the so-called geniuses of this kingdom… no, even of this entire empire, will be crushed beneath your feet."

"They are mortals, bound by flesh and bone. But you are the host of a god. There is a fundamental difference between you and them!"

Isabella fell silent.

Her mind echoed with the girl's words. The weight of them was heavy—too heavy for someone her age to bear easily.

But she didn't want to be a burden anymore. She didn't want her brother to fall into danger because of her.

After a long pause, Isabella slowly raised her head and locked eyes with the girl.

"I… I'll join the Sanctuary of Winter. But… not yet. I want to spend a little more time with my brother. At least let me say goodbye to him properly."

"Of course," the girl replied, rising to her feet with a soft smile. "There's no rush. We still have plenty of time."

"The power of the Primal Spirit of Frost is one of stillness. To it, the fleeting days of mortals pass in the blink of an eye."

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Isabella didn't quite understand everything the girl was saying. But she now had a general impression of the Sanctuary of Winter.

It was a gathering of fanatics—devotees who worshiped the Primal Spirit of Frost with obsessive reverence.

Back in her hometown, Isabella had only ever seen one or two such people in passing, at the old cathedral. And even then, they were widely considered to be lunatics.

But after today, her perception shifted.

The black-dressed girl didn't seem mad at all.

In fact… she was terrifyingly rational.

That evening, Isabella pushed a food cart slowly into the grand dining hall of Sirius Academy.

The table was already set with several hearty dishes. Headmaster Gayle, along with Francis and the other students, were already seated.

Only Alan was missing.

Isabella was just about to ask where he was, when she felt a gentle tap on her shoulder.

She turned around quickly—and saw Alan grinning behind her, also pushing a food cart.

She pouted and glared at him.

"Brother, didn't I tell you I was handling dinner tonight?"

Alan reached out and ruffled her hair, smiling.

"I just couldn't bear to see you working all alone. So I snuck away to whip up a few side dishes."

"Don't worry, you're still the head chef tonight. I wouldn't dare steal your spotlight."

"Hey, hey, enough chit-chat, you two lovebirds! I'm starving over here!"

Francis banged his fork against his plate, looking ready to riot from hunger.

Alan and Isabella both laughed and quickly took their seats at the table.

Ahem.

Just then, Headmaster Gayle, sitting at the head of the table, cleared his throat and spoke in a heavy tone.

"Before we begin tonight's dinner, I have something important to share."

Francis groaned dramatically and set his fork back down with a sigh, giving Gayle a pitiful look of starvation.

Gayle completely ignored him. He took a swig from his ever-present flask and continued:

"I just received word from an old friend. A new bounty has been posted among the bounty hunter circles across various nations."

"The message is simple: 'Kill every student under the age of thirty from Sirius Academy.'"

The room fell silent. Everyone's expressions turned grim.

Alan slammed his palm on the table and said coldly, "Let them come. Whether it's Lioncrest students or mercenary bounty hunters, I'm not afraid of any of them!"

Francis jumped in with support: "That's right! Alan practically went berserk at their front gates earlier. Those Lioncrest guys didn't even dare fart in his presence!"

"And now they're so scared they won't even fight us themselves—they have to hire bounty hunters instead. Hah! Can I go ahead and declare this a one-sided victory?"

But Blanche frowned and turned to Gayle.

"Didn't Stephen accuse us of recruiting outside help, which led to part of the wager being changed? Now he's the one breaking the rules?"

Gayle shook his head. "No. That's the clever part."

"He knew he wouldn't technically be breaking the rules. That's why he's paying so handsomely to attract bounty hunters."

"You see, Stephen subtly shifted the scope of the wager—originally it was just a competition between tier-diamond mages from two academies. But now, it includes any mage under thirty years old."

Blanche's eyes widened in realization. "Ah… so that's why he was so insistent about changing that part of the bet…"

Gayle chuckled darkly. "Don't worry, kids. Even if he hadn't played his word games, Stephen would've found some way to cause us trouble. After all these years of fighting him, no one in the capital understands him better than I do."

"And besides…"

He cast a mocking glance at Francis.

"You think we're just going up against those third-rate bounty hunters who sit around pubs bragging about how many goblins they've slain?"

"If that's what you believe, then you're dead wrong."

"Stephen didn't just attract any mercenaries—he lured in top-tier bounty hunters. These guys are elite. Well-trained, powerful, and masters of coordination. Some of them are as dangerous as an entire kingdom's military unit."

"If you underestimate them… you could lose your life before you even know what hit you."