The air bit with teeth of frost as Malrik led them deeper into the forgotten tundra northwest of Velmora—a place where even sunlight seemed to freeze in midair. Kenneth trudged through knee-deep snow, each breath a misting ghost in the merciless -40-degree cold. Beside him, Zarek's lightning sputtered weakly, starved by the unnatural chill, while Kael's thermal sensors whirred and protested against the cruel environment.
"This is suicide, old man," Zarek growled, ice crusting his lashes.
Malrik did not slow or glance back. "The strongest flames are forged in the coldest hells."
They reached a towering glacial spire, its surface gleaming like frozen glass. Malrik halted and commanded, "Again."
Kenneth raised his hands. Fire erupted from his left palm, lightning crackled from his right, but the elements sputtered and clashed, each fighting for dominance rather than harmony.
"Pathetic," Malrik hissed, his voice sharp as ice. "You command them. They do not command you."
Kenneth closed his eyes, feeling deeper within. Fire—the elegant, consuming fury of his mother's legacy—flowed through him, mingling with lightning—the wild, untamed heartbeat gifted by the thunder boar. Slowly, he drew both energies inward, melding their power in his core until they braided seamlessly. Then, with a sudden release, a spiraling helix of fire and lightning burst forth, scorching the glacier until it steamed and cracked into obsidian shards.
Zarek whistled low. "Damn."
Malrik pointed at the smoking ruin and said, "Shatter it."
Kenneth focused, bones cracking in his right arm as fur rippled over his skin and claws tore through leather gloves. The surge drained him, exhaustion hammering his body, but he struck true. The obsidian shattered, scattering diamond dust into the freezing air.
"Good," Malrik conceded. "Now control the beast without losing yourself."
Their hunt had only just begun. From the swirling blizzard emerged the Glacies Specter—a towering stag of living ice, its antlers blazing with runes pulsing cold blue light. Its hooves left trails of frozen flames, and its presence sucked warmth from the air. An absolute zero aura rippled from the beast, sapping kinetic energy, freezing attacks mid-air, while mirror-like ice clones reflected every strike.
Kael's sensors screamed alarms. "Thermal signature dropping! It's here—"
The Specter's howl shattered the cold air into jagged shards of ice. Zarek's lightning lashed out, but it shattered, frozen mid-strike. Kael's drones iced over and crashed helplessly. Kenneth's fire guttered, suffocated by the deathly aura.
Malrik roared, "Transform or die!"
Kenneth slammed his clawed hand into the snow. His right arm twisted into monstrous form, veins glowing molten red. Fire and lightning fused, wreathed around his claws like plasma energy. He lunged forward.
The Specter mirrored him, creating three icy duplicates, each as deadly as the original.
"Left is real!" Kael shouted, teeth chattering.
Kenneth pivoted, claws raking across the true Specter's chest, ice screaming as its crystalline core pulsed with burning heat. Zarek pounded the clones with relentless lightning-fisted brawling.
With a final, fierce plunge, Kenneth drove his claw into the heart-core—and consumed it.
Power flooded through him, Arctic cold entwining with fire and lightning in a dazzling, unstable harmony. The beast-rage that had once burned wild within his mind crystallized into glacial clarity. The Specter shattered, and silence fell. Even the blizzard stilled.
Kenneth stood transformed—one arm beastly, eyes burning with tri-colored light: gold, red, and blue—his breath eerily calm in the frozen wasteland.
"How...?" Zarek whispered.
"The ice purges fire's rage," Malrik said softly. "Balance."
Kael's awe broke through the biting cold as he scanned Kenneth. "Hybrid stability increased by 78%. Fascinating."
Kenneth flexed his claw; ice crystals bloomed in his palm, lightning flickering within them.
"The tournament won't know what hit them."
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