The moment Alvera's voice rang through the air, it was like a force of nature had been unleashed.
The very ground trembled beneath their feet. A brutal snowstorm burst forth with a roar, swirling around the battlefield in a terrifying display of power. Icy winds howled through the mountains, whipping up thick curtains of snow and frost that clawed at the cloaks of the Nightstar soldiers.
The very air turned heavy, sharp, and biting, and even the battle-hardened men felt its pressure. It was not just an act of aggression—it was a warning, a message carved in cold and fury: You are not welcome here.
In the eye of this storm stood Mira, her long red hair flowing wildly, her cloak billowing like a banner of flame amid white fury. Yet, she didn't flinch.
Her expression remained composed, her eyes steady. She knew exactly how strong Alvera was, yet she stood her ground.
This calmness unnerved the Ice Elves. They could feel it—Mira wasn't someone who had come unprepared. She wasn't scared because she had something they didn't understand.
Whispers of doubt crept into their minds. Why would a high-ranking officer of Nightstar show up here alone with her team and not strike back? What is she truly after?
Taking a step forward through the swirling snow, Mira raised her voice. "We aren't here to engage. We just want to know if you had a hand in last night's attack." Her voice was firm, unshaken by the chaos around them.
Alvera's cold gaze didn't waver. Her tone was level but sharp as a blade. "Of course not. We are not aware of any attack. We had no part in it." Her response was confident, but the question had struck a nerve.
Mira's eyes didn't leave her. "There was a human involved… someone with greyish hair," she said, her tone more pointed this time.
For a moment, just a flicker, something shifted in Alvera's expression. A chill passed through her heart, but she held her composure. The court and soldiers were watching. She couldn't afford a crack in her stance.
Mira tilted her head slightly, watching. "Have you seen anyone with grey hair?" she asked again, each word spaced and clear, like a blade being slowly unsheathed.
That single question made the wind stop. The snow froze midair. It was as if the entire world held its breath.
"No." Alvera's voice was louder now, edged with finality.
Then she looked around," Has anyone seen a human with greyish hair around the periphery?"
Hearing this, the soldiers looked at one another, acting confused.
"No, Your Highness.."
"There hadn't been any signs of humans recently."
Alvera nodded at them while secretly praising her people for such a commanding act. It was quite natural, and this eased her fear of getting found out.
Alvera then turned her gaze towards Mira, who eyed the men sharply.
"You heard them right? My soldiers hadn't seen anyone as per the description you gave."
Mira's expression changed a bit and she looked around the crowd, pausing at a certain man who gave a faint nod.
"We neither had anything to do with your attack, nor did we see anyone with grey hair. So unless you have something else to say, I suggest you state your true purpose—or return to your land."
Mira said nothing for a moment. Her glowing crimson eyes scanned the area. From her vision, everything warm lit up in her sight.
Hidden among the snowdrifts, rooftops, and windows were Ice Elf soldiers, cloaked by magic, holding bows drawn and aimed. They were ready. If she made even one wrong move, the air would fill with arrows.
She exhaled slowly, disappointed but not surprised. "Let's leave," she finally said, her voice calm and sharp. Her soldiers exchanged glances, some surprised, some reluctant, but they obeyed and began to turn.
As soon as they were out of range, the silence shattered.
"What a bloody wretch!" a soldier spat, unable to hold back.
"She didn't even show proper respect!"
"My Queen," one knelt down, teeth clenched in fury, "if you hadn't held us back, her head would be rolling right now!"
"Yes!" another shouted. "Let me beat that arrogant human! I'll slice her up right now!"
"Enough." Alvera's voice cut through the rage like a blade of ice. A gentle shockwave pulsed outward, and all fell silent. Her eyes were fixed on the trail Mira had taken. She didn't speak again, but her thoughts were racing.
Further away, beyond the chaos and hidden among the ancient snow-covered buildings, Kael stood still, his back pressed against the stone wall of a tall clock tower. The cracked glass of the ancient clock creaked slightly in the wind. From there, he had watched everything. Beside him stood Iris, his eyes focused and confused.
"Interesting…" Kael murmured under his breath.
"Huh?" Iris asked, still caught up in the tension of the moment. "What's interesting about any of that?"
Kael didn't answer immediately. He watched Mira and her group disappear into the distance. Then he spoke, low and serious. "Do you really think she came all the way here just to ask a question and walk away? You think someone like her would risk war just to poke around?"
Iris frowned. "I've been thinking the same thing. But I couldn't figure it out. There's something off."
Kael's tone darkened.
"She's dangerous. Very dangerous.I am also not sure what is the real reason for her coming here but aomething inside me is screaming to kill her."
Iris opened her mouth to scold him, but the look on his face stopped her. His usual calm had been replaced by something far colder—instinctual, ruthless.
Kael's gaze dropped to his gloves. One of the embedded stones was glowing faintly. It pulsed like a heartbeat.
Kael looked at it with a deadpan gaze and smile, wondering if this was a good opportunity to use the stone.
"She saw my face," he muttered to himself. "I can't let her leave. She has to die."