Transmigrated Into a Cannon Fodder Phoenix, Stuck With the Ice Dragon-Chapter 132: My Domain

I had expected something dramatic.

Chanting. Light bursting everywhere or maybe glowing symbols or pain.

Instead, Vivian sat quietly on the floor, the small bottle cradled in her palm like it might break if she held it too tightly.

"How to use it?" I asked weakly. "You just... pour it?"

Vivian gave a breathless laugh. "I wish it were that easy."

She uncorked the bottle carefully. Inside, the liquid shimmered faintly, not too bright, not blinding. Just warm. Like sunlight trapped in glass.

"No tricks," she said. "No spells. Just focus. Calm your mind and think about staying alive."

She let a single drop touch her finger, then pressed it against her chest.

For a moment, nothing happened.

My heart sank.

Then the glow spread slowly beneath her skin, soft and gentle. Thin lines of light branched out like veins. The trembling in her hands eased. Her breathing steadied.

Vivian let out a long breath, her shoulders finally relaxing. "They don’t heal everything," she said quietly. "They just help the body hold itself together."

Celeste watched closely, fingers laced tight. "That’s why I saved them," she said softly. "For moments like this."

The glow faded slowly, sinking into Vivian’s skin until it was gone completely.

She wiped at the corner of her mouth and managed a weak smile. "See? Still breathing."

I exhaled shakily, only then realizing how tightly I’d been holding my breath.

Lucian, who had been standing silent this whole time, finally relaxed his stance just a little. The frost creeping along his fingers melted away.

"Now... Can you start?" he asked, his voice low but urgent.

"Lucian," I snapped, turning to glare at him. "Can you let her take a moment?"

My brows knitted together, annoyance slipping through before I could stop it.

He stiffened, then looked away. "Okay," he said quietly. "I’m sorry."

His gaze flicked to Vivian, worry clear in his eyes. "I’m just... worried."

Vivian lowered her head slightly, acknowledging his concern. "I understand," she said softly. "Give me a moment. I won’t delay." She steadied her breathing, gathering herself. "Then," she added, "we can begin."

The water around Elyndra shifted faintly.

"No—no, no, no!" Elyndra panicked, her voice cracking as she struggled uselessly against the water binding her.

Thalor’s expression darkened.

He looked down at her with clear irritation, like she was a noise he couldn’t get rid of. "Do you want me to snap your head off again?" he asked flatly.

The water tightened.

"You’ll come back, yes," Thalor continued, unimpressed. "But the pain doesn’t lessen. It never does."

Elyndra froze. Her breathing turned shallow.

Thalor leaned slightly closer, his voice dropping. "So stop moving," he said. "And stop screaming."

The water stilled.

Elyndra clenched her jaw, terror flickering in her eyes as she finally went quiet.

Vivian shook her head and reached behind her neck, fingers sliding through her hair.

Then she pulled something free.

The moment she did, her hair spilled loose over her shoulders, falling softly down her back, freed from whatever had been holding it in place. For a second, the faint glow of the wand caught against the strands, making them shimmer.

I blinked.

"Wait..." I pressed my lips together and glanced at Lucian. "I know this really isn’t the time, but... fairies actually have wands?"

Auren let out a quiet breath that might have been a laugh.

Lucian looked away, clearly choosing not to comment.

Only Elyndra stayed silent, her head turning slowly from side to side, eyes sharp, calculating, searching for a way out.

Thalor tilted his head.

He studied Vivian with mild surprise, then hummed.

"You’re quite beautiful," he remarked casually, as if commenting on the weather.

Vivian paused for half a second, then gave a small, tired smile. "Thank you," she said simply. "But this isn’t about that." She lifted the wand, her expression settling into calm focus, "I usually hide it as a hairpin."

She lifted the wand, focus settling into her expression. "Now," she added, "let’s finish this."

Elyndra’s breathing grew uneven. Then she started mumbling. "I’ll go," she said quickly. "I’ll leave. I swear it."

The water around her trembled as she struggled again, panic breaking through her voice.

"I won’t come near you anymore," Elyndra continued, words spilling over each other. "I’ll stay out of your sight. I’ll live secluded. Far away. I promise."

Her gaze snapped toward me. "I won’t touch you," she said desperately. "Not your life. Not your tears. Nothing."

Thalor stared at her, utterly unimpressed.

"You’ve made promises before," he said flatly. "Remember?" His eyes narrowed. "Right before Lucian almost crushed your body the first time you went after my sister."

I blinked. "Her sister?" I muttered under my breath, more to myself than anyone else.

Thalor’s eyes slid sideways toward me. He definitely heard it. "I’m not explaining that," he said shortly. "It’s old history."

Then his gaze dropped back to Elyndra, irritation sharpening. "But yes," he continued, voice cold, "this one here has a very long list of victims."

The water around Elyndra tightened slightly, just enough to make her gasp.

"So forgive me," Thalor added, tone dry, "if I don’t find your promises convincing."

Elyndra’s lips trembled.

"I can change—"

"No," Thalor cut her off. "You don’t change. You adapt."

Lucian stepped forward, his presence heavy. "And we’re done letting you do that, being a fool once is enough..." he said.

Vivian lifted the wand, its glow steady now.

Elyndra looked around wildly.

At that time, she probably guessed, there was nowhere left to run.

Vivian lifted the wand.

The glow at its tip steadied, no longer flickering.

"I’ll bind her," she said quietly. "But I can’t hold her alone."

Thalor sighed, clearly irritated. "Obviously."

He raised one hand.

The water around Elyndra surged, deepening—dark, heavy, no longer moving like liquid but looking so solid.

"This isn’t fairy magic," Thalor said flatly. "This is my domain."

Vivian nodded and spoke the spell.

The words were soft. Simple. Final.

The water answered.

It wrapped tighter around Elyndra, not crushing, not tearing but closing.

"No—!" Elyndra screamed. "You can’t—!"

The sound was swallowed.

The water folded inward, pulling her down, deeper and deeper, until even her voice disappeared.

Then—Silence and Elyndra vanished.

Thalor lowered his hand.

"Done!"