<div> Chapter 301: Nobody Can Snatch what is mine
 Inside the icy hexagon, Khione was already weaving her next spell. The air grew so cold it burned to breathe. She pointed her wand upward, through the open top of her bastion.
 "Frozen Sky: Hailstorm."
 A beautiful chilling spell had been unleashed upon the world.
 Above the arena, the air darkened as if announcing an incoming storm. What formed was not hail, but spears. Jagged, foot-long projectiles of condensed ice, sharper than any arrowhead, denser than iron. They fell not with the randomness of weather, but with the precision of a scorpion’s tail. Guided by her will, they shrieked down through the gravity field, their force multiplied by their velocity and weight.
 THWIP-THWIP-THWIP-THWIP!
 It was a rain of annihilation. The flying crystal constructs were shredded, exploding into glittering dust. The mage golems in the back ranks raised barriers instantly, but the ice-spears punched through like puncturing through paper, shattering them and pinning the constructs to the ground.
 Bam!
 The knights on the bastion walls were pummeled from above, their focus broken.
 But still, they came. A Fire Knight, half-shattered by hail, unleashed a final, desperate explosion of flame at the base of the wall. A Shatter Knight(Author’s Note: Special Earth Law Type Knight), missing an arm, found a crack and widened it.
 The Permafrost Bastion shattered.
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 </div> Khione stood revealed, surrounded by smoke, steam, and the wreckage of two dozen golems. But a dozen more, tougher and adapted, closed in like an army of enraged red ants. The gravity pressed down, sapping her, making every heartbeat a thundering effort. Her prana was flowing out like a river. This was the heart of Hell Difficulty: endless pressure, endless enemies, designed to break you through sheer, grinding attrition.
 Her cold mask never slipped. The rage born from fear of the other stealing what belongs to her was a silent engine in her chest. It wasn’t like she didn’t had faith in her man, she did have it, but rationality and reality was two different things.
 ~Back to the training ground.
 They swarmed her. A Wind Knight, moving in blurred gusts even under the heavy gravity, was first. Its blade, a vortex of cutting air, sliced toward her neck. Khione didn’t block. She turned her head and breathed.
 "Winter’s Breath."
 A cone of absolute-zero air, so cold it stopped molecular motion, blasted from her lips. The cutting wind froze in mid-air, becoming a sculpture of impossible crystals, and the knight itself was flash-frozen into a startled statue. She tapped it with her wand, and it exploded into a million icy shards.
 A Force Mage hit her from the side with an invisible hammer-blow. It lifted her off her feet and sent her skidding across the ice. Pain flared in her ribs. She rolled, coming up on one knee just as an Earth Knight, its fists like pile drivers, brought them down where her head had been. The ground quaked.
 She was tiring. The prana drain was immense. Her movements, once fluid, were becoming labored under the six Gs. A Lightning bolt grazed her shoulder, numbing her arm. An Illusion tried to show her Nero falling, but her mind was a locked vault; the image shattered against her will like glass.
 They were everywhere. Closing the circle.
 So, she stopped trying to fight them all individually. She went to the core of her law. Not the manifestations of ice, but its principle: stillness, preservation, the end of all motion.
 She planted her wand into the ground and placed both hands over it. She closed her eyes, shutting out the advancing army. She drew not on the ambient prana, but on the deep, glacial reservoir she had filled. She pulled from the cold rage that was her fuel.
 "Absolute Zero: Stillpoint."
 She did not shout. It was a whisper that swallowed all sound.
 The effect was not an explosion, but an erasure.
 A pulse of pure, silent cold radiated from her in a second, faster wave. It did not form ice. It took. It took the heat, it took the kinetic energy, it took the very vibration from the air and the earth and the constructs.
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 </div> Every golem within fifty feet simply... stopped.
 The Fire in their cores died. The Lightning in their circuits stilled. The Wind around their blades fell dead. The force of their charges vanished. They were frozen not in ice, but in a state of suspended animation, their internal magic and motive power leached away into the absolute cold. They stood like grim, silent statues in a perfect circle around her, a monument to stillness.
 The spell cost her everything. Her core was scraped empty. The gravity felt ten times heavier. She slumped forward, catching herself on her hands, her wand clattering on the ice. Her breath came in ragged, shuddering gasps that tore at her throat. Sweat froze instantly on her skin. She trembled violently from exhaustion and the profound cold she had just become the heart of.
 The crimson runes on the walls faded to a soft, neutral white. The crushing gravity lifted, the sudden absence making her feel weightless and nauseous.
 "SIMULATION TERMINATED. VICTORY: COMBATANT."
 The frozen golems dissolved into motes of harmless light.
 Khione remained on her hands and knees for a long time, shaking, the cold of the arena finally seeping into her spent body. She had not just won. She had been forced to the absolute edge of her power and looked over the precipice. She had unleashed spells that would level city blocks. And she had done it with a face as calm as a frozen lake.
 Slowly, achingly, she pushed herself to her feet. Every muscle screamed. Her core felt like a hollow, aching void. But within that void, there was a new understanding, a new shape to her power. She had practiced the avalanche. She had become the stillpoint. She had survived her own hell.
 Stumbling slightly, she retrieved her wand. The walk back to the dorm would be long, and she would need to meditate for hours to recover even a fraction of her strength. But as she left the scarred, frost-ravaged training ground, a single, clear thought cut through the fatigue: Let them come. Let them all come. I am ready, nobody can snatch what is mine.
 She reaffirmed this with a smile. Seeing her react like this, afraid, filled with insecurities made her human.</div>
 

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Chapter 301: Nobody Can Snatch what is mine

Chapter 301: Nobody Can Snatch what is mine Inside the icy hexagon, Khione was already weaving her next spell. The air grew so cold it burned to breathe. She pointed her wand upward, through the open top of her bastion. "Frozen Sky: Hailstorm." A beautiful chilling spell had been unleashed upon the world. Above the arena, the air darkened as if announcing an incoming storm. What formed was not hail, but spears. Jagged, foot-long projectiles of condensed ice, sharper than any arrowhead, denser...

Primordial Heir: Nine Stars

Chapter 301: Nobody Can Snatch what is mine

Primordial Heir: Nine Stars - Chapter 301: Nobody Can Snatch what is mine