ShadowBound: The Need For Power-Chapter 588: They Are All Not The Same

As the words left Liam’s mouth, Mabel couldn’t stop the faint skepticism that crept into her expression. Her eyes lingered on him a moment longer than necessary, searching for something unsaid, some hidden intent tucked behind that calm exterior. A quiet part of her wondered if the apology had been nothing more than a setup after all.

’And here I was thinking he was genuinely apologetic,’ she thought inwardly, her gaze steady but her mind anything but. ’Still... I shouldn’t jump to conclusions.’ The memory of his earlier words resurfaced, measured and unforced, lacking the sharp edge she had grown accustomed to hearing from him. ’That apology sounded far more sincere than most things I’ve ever heard come out of his mouth.’

She exhaled silently. ’Yeah. I’ll hear him out.’

"Yes," Mabel said at last, her voice calm and even. "What favor do you need from me?"

"Can you give me any kind of intel on how ice-affinity users fight?" Liam asked without hesitation. "More specifically, how far their skill can go when it comes to utilizing ice properly."

The moment the question settled in the air between them, Mabel’s eyes widened just slightly. Understanding dawned on her almost immediately, and with it came the reminder of something looming and unavoidable—the duel that still awaited him, the one with the prodigal son of the Crescent Kingdom, Percy Granger.

"So," she said slowly, studying him, "you’re preparing for your duel, then?"

"Yes," Liam replied calmly. "We agreed to leave today untouched by it, so I can afford a bit of ease for now." His gaze drifted forward, unfocused. "But starting tomorrow, I’ll need to stay alert. Constantly. It’s only a matter of time before he shows up to claim his duel."

He paused briefly before adding, "That’s why I need some information. I’ve never gone up against an ice user before, not seriously. I need at least a solid idea of what to expect."

Mabel tilted her head slightly. "I thought you fought Princess Sheila some time ago, before the two of you became friends," she said. "Didn’t that count for anything?"

"No," Liam answered evenly. "That fight didn’t amount to much. It was little more than a childish exchange on her part. At the time, she was acting purely on the prejudice that had been planted in her mind." His tone remained flat. "There was nothing meaningful to take away from that encounter."

Mabel watched him in silence for a moment, weighing his words carefully. Then she nodded once. "Alright," she said. "I’ll help you. I’ve fought plenty of ice mages before—though not many who were assassin knights like myself... or like you." Her eyes narrowed slightly as she finished, "Or even like Percy himself."

She exhaled slowly, her posture shifting ever so slightly as she prepared herself to explain. The faint echo of the cavernous hall surrounded them, the crystal stands catching light in muted reflections as if listening in. When she spoke again, her tone was calm, but there was a gravity beneath it that made Liam instinctively pay closer attention.

"You need to understand something first," she began. "Ice users aren’t all the same. People tend to lump them together—mages, knights, assassin knights—as if the affinity alone defines how dangerous they are. It doesn’t. The method is what makes the difference."

Liam remained silent, his red eyes fixed on her, unreadable as always.

"An ice mage," Mabel continued, "fights at range most of the time. They rely on spell constructs—lances, spikes, walls, storms of shards. Their ice is shaped through casting, channeled outward, and controlled like any other elemental spell. Dangerous, yes, especially when their control is refined, but predictable in structure. You can read the flow of Myst, anticipate the casting time, and respond accordingly."

She lifted a hand slightly, gesturing as if molding something invisible. "A normal knight with ice affinity is different. They reinforce their body and weapons with ice—armor plating over joints, blades edged with frost, shields hardened to near crystal. They’re more direct, more physical. Their ice supports their combat style rather than defining it. Against them, positioning and timing matter more than raw elemental counters."

Her gaze sharpened as she looked directly at Liam. "But assassin knights are a completely different problem."

Liam’s brow lowered a fraction, the smallest sign of interest.

"Assassin knights don’t cast ice," Mabel said. "They become it. Their affinity isn’t something they throw—it’s an extension of their body, their intent, their killing instinct. Every movement they make can generate ice without warning. A blade doesn’t need to be drawn. A projectile doesn’t need to be prepared."

She paused, letting the words settle.

"You already saw that last night," she added quietly. "That dagger Percy threw at you—it wasn’t a spell. He didn’t shape it, chant for it, or channel it outward. He formed it in the same way you might clench your fist. That’s what makes assassin knights so dangerous."

Liam’s eyes narrowed slightly as the memory surfaced—the sudden flash of ice, the weight of it in his hand when he caught it, and the creeping cold that followed.

"They use ice like an extra limb," Mabel went on. "Their affinity reacts to their thoughts instantly. They can create weapons mid-motion, alter their shape mid-strike, or shatter them on command. A blade can become shrapnel. A missed strike can turn into a freezing mist. There’s no wasted movement."

She folded her arms loosely. "A mage and a knight are manageable with the right strategy. An assassin knight forces you to react perfectly every second. One mistake is all it takes."

Liam finally spoke. "What about the freezing effect?" he asked evenly. "When you’re hit—or even when you block?"

Mabel nodded, as if she had expected the question.

"That’s one of the most lethal aspects of high-level ice users," she said. "It’s called residual freeze. The moment their ice makes contact—whether it pierces, grazes, or is caught—it begins transferring cold directly into the target. Not just temperature, but Myst-infused frost."

She stepped closer, her voice lowering slightly. "Even if you deflect the attack, the freezing starts at the point of contact. Skin stiffens. Blood flow slows. Nerves dull. And if the ice was formed with enough intent, that freeze spreads."

"Like a virus," Liam muttered, recalling the sensation vividly.

"Exactly," Mabel confirmed. "It crawls. Slowly at first, then faster. If it isn’t dealt with immediately, it can lock an entire limb in seconds. In extreme cases, it can encase the whole body."

She met his gaze steadily. "You felt it in your hand when you caught Percy’s dagger. That wasn’t accidental. That was controlled."

Liam flexed his fingers unconsciously.

"Percy already understands how to apply that effect efficiently," Mabel continued. "Which means he doesn’t need to overwhelm you with brute force. One clean hit—or even repeated glancing blows—and he can cripple you over time."

She paused, then added, "That said, you’re not without advantages."

Liam looked at her, waiting.

"You’re a fire mage," she said plainly. "Ice is strong, but fire is its natural counter. Heat disrupts the Myst structure within ice, destabilizes it, weakens its ability to spread. Against most ice users, you’re a nightmare matchup."

Her lips curved slightly, though there was no humor in her eyes. "Against Percy, it won’t be that simple. Assassin knights adapt. He’ll avoid prolonged contact. He’ll strike fast and withdraw before you can capitalize."

"And you?" Liam asked calmly. "How would you fare against him?"

Mabel didn’t answer immediately.

"I use water and space," she said at last. "Water feeds ice. Space can avoid it—but only if there’s room to maneuver. In a direct duel, Percy would be far more problematic for me than for you."

She tilted her head. "Which is why you can manage this. You just need to be disciplined."

"Meaning?" Liam asked.

"Don’t rely purely on your fire," she replied. "Use it surgically. Keep your body temperature stable. Burn away residual freeze the moment it starts. Never catch his weapons unless you’re prepared to incinerate them instantly. And above all—don’t let him dictate the pace."

Liam absorbed every word in silence, his mind already turning the information into tactics, scenarios, counters.

After a long moment, he gave a small nod. "Thank you," he said sincerely. "This helps."

Mabel studied him, then relaxed slightly. "Good. I’d hate for you to walk into that duel unprepared."

Liam glanced around the training hall once more, the vast space suddenly feeling unnecessary. "That’s all I needed," he said. "We should head back to the academy."

Mabel raised an eyebrow. "No training?"

"Later," he replied calmly. "Right now, I need to think."

She didn’t argue. Instead, she summoned another portal beside them, its familiar light spilling across the stone floor.

"This way," she said.

Liam stepped forward without hesitation, disappearing into the glow as Mabel followed close behind. The portal sealed shut a moment later, leaving the underground hall silent once more, as if it had never borne witness to the quiet preparation for a duel that would soon shake far more than just the academy.