CHAPTER 22: LYRA BRAVEHEART

Chapter 22 – Lyra Braveheart

The frozen winds howled like wolves through the mountain peaks, whipping across jagged cliffs and carrying flurries of snow that stung the skin like a thousand icy needles. The white wasteland stretched endlessly, broken only by shards of blue crystal jutting from the earth like jagged teeth, their surfaces shimmering faintly beneath the pale light of the winter sun.

The world was bitter and merciless here. Every breath Lyra Braveheart took emerged as thick mist, curling before her lips before being devoured by the wind. Her cheeks flushed red, not from cold, but from excitement.

Her grin widened as her eyes fixed on the shadows lumbering across the snowfield.

A pack of Frozen Bears—massive, thick-furred beasts with claws glimmering like shards of ice. Their eyes glowed with eerie blue light, mist pouring from their maws with each growl. Even F-rank monsters became terrifying in numbers, and twenty of them together was enough to send most cadets fleeing.

Lyra planted her boots firmly in the snow, her staff spinning in her hands, humming with mana as sparks of fire and beads of frost clashed around it.

"Finally," she muttered, her grin stretching into something fierce and wild. She raised her voice, letting it echo proudly across the mountainside.

"Ha! Finally, something worth my time. Come on, fuzzballs, let’s dance!"

Her laughter rang across the barren peaks, defiant and bold.

The Frozen Bears answered with a unified roar, snow scattering from their maws like a miniature blizzard. Their heavy paws thundered against the frozen ground, cracking the ice with every step.

The battlefield was set.

The first bear lunged forward, its jaws wide, frost spilling from its maw. The air itself chilled, the ground beneath its paws shimmering with ice as it charged.

Lyra smirked. "Too slow!"

She slammed her staff into the snow and swept it upward.

[Fire Blast!]

FWOOOOOSH!

A pillar of searing flame erupted from beneath the bear’s chest, engulfing its body in fire. The beast howled, its fur blackening as it rolled desperately across the ice, steam rising violently where flames met frost.

Another bear lunged from her side, claws extended, crystalline edges gleaming like razors. Lyra pivoted sharply, staff cutting through the air.

[Water Cutter!]

A crescent blade of shimmering water shot forward, slicing clean through the beast’s paw. Blood sprayed across the snow like crimson ink on a white canvas. The bear collapsed, shrieking, its massive body shaking the ground.

Lyra flicked her wrist, spinning her staff with one hand, her grin widening as adrenaline rushed through her veins.

"Two down. Who’s next?"

The pack answered, snarling, circling tighter. Their breath filled the air with an icy mist, the snow around them hardening into frozen spikes.

Mana surged within her like twin rivers—one burning, one chilling. Most mages could only master one current. Lyra Braveheart wielded two.

She raised her hand, her eyes blazing with unrestrained thrill.

[Fire Arrows!]

Three blazing bolts shot from her palm, cutting through the icy air with a hiss. They struck one bear’s face, each arrow exploding on impact. The creature roared, stumbling backward as its eyes boiled in fire, its vision stolen.

Another bear barreled toward her in rage. Lyra’s grin turned sharp.

"Try me!"

She twirled her staff overhead, channeling a torrent of water mana through its crystal tip. A whip of pressurized water lashed out, cracking against the beast’s snout with a sickening snap. Blood and ice shards sprayed outward as the bear staggered.

The battlefield became chaos—flames clashing with frost, steam swirling in violent clouds. Every step Lyra took melted the snow beneath her, leaving trails of blackened slush.

Her mana veins burned, her muscles strained from the constant switch between elements. Fire scorched. Water sliced. She danced between them with raw instinct, her tomboyish grin never faltering.

She wasn’t just fighting. She was alive.

The remaining beasts hesitated, their circle tightening, growls vibrating low in their throats. Blue eyes glared at her, wary now, sensing the danger.

Lyra stomped her boot against the snow, cracks spiderwebbing outward. She spun her staff onto her shoulders, resting it there casually despite the sweat dripping down her brow.

"What’s wrong? You’re supposed to be monsters, not scared little kittens!" she taunted, laughter bubbling from her chest. "Come on! Don’t tell me that’s all you’ve got?"

The challenge cut through the air like fire through paper.

Five bears roared and lunged together, desperate to overwhelm her. Their massive forms darkened the snow as they descended.

Lyra’s grin sharpened into something wild. "Perfect."

She thrust her hand forward, mana compressing violently, unstable heat crackling.

[Fire Bomb!]

A sphere of condensed fire burst into existence above her palm, its surface rippling with unstable energy. She hurled it into the charging pack with reckless glee.

BOOOOOOOM!

The explosion ripped across the mountain, painting the frozen field in fire and fury. Snow melted instantly into steam, shockwaves sending ice and rubble flying. The bears’ bodies were hurled into the air, their roars drowned beneath the deafening blast.

Steam swallowed the battlefield, rolling across the ground in thick waves. The mountain shook, avalanches crumbling from distant cliffs.

When the haze finally cleared, the snow was scorched black, fur and ice scattered across the ground. Half the pack lay lifeless, their crystalline claws shattered, their charred bodies smoking.

Lyra stood at the center, staff planted firmly into the ground. Her chest rose and fell heavily, sweat glistening against flushed skin despite the frozen wind. Strands of her brown hair stuck to her damp cheeks as she lifted her chin proudly.

"Still standing..." she muttered, wiping her face with the back of her hand. Her grin returned, feral and triumphant. "Guess that means I win."

---

A faint chime cut through the silent aftermath.

~Ding!

[Points Updated.]

A holographic display flickered before her eyes:

#1. Michael Willson – 14,340 pts

#2. Leon Lionheart – 11,270 pts

#3. Edric William – 11,080 pts

#4. Selena Veylan – 10,010 pts

#5. Lyra Braveheart – 9,810 pts

#6. Aiden Stromfang – 9,740 pts

Lyra blinked. Her victorious grin faltered.

"Fifth? ...FIFTH? After all that? You’ve gotta be kidding me."

She throws her arms up, pacing in the snow.

"I roast half a pack of Frozen Bears, nearly blow my mana veins apart, and they still stick me below Selena and Edric? Tch!"

She squints at the glowing list, lips curling in annoyance as she spots the top name.

Her gaze locked on the name at the very top

Michael Willson.

14,340 points. An impossible gap.

"...Who the hell is this guy?" she muttered, lowering herself onto a snow-covered rock. Her staff rested across her shoulders like a blade, her body still trembling with the aftershock of mana strain.

She scowled at the list, muttering under her breath.

The memory of instructors whispering in hushed tones during the Combat Trial flickered across her mind. Surprise. Praise. Even awe

"Michael Willson... fourteen thousand points. Hah, who even are you? Some hidden prince? A secret instructor’s pet?"

She kicks a chunk of ice, sending it tumbling down the slope. Her laugh is sharp, reckless.

"No... doesn’t matter who you are. If you’re standing on top, then you’re standing in my way."

Her eyes dart down the list, locking on the names below Michael’s.

"Leon, Edric, Selena... I know you three. You’re strong, sure. But that just makes beating you even sweeter."

Her grin returns, feral and unyielding. She grips her staff tight, the crystal tip still glowing faintly with residual heat.

Her lips curled into a defiant grin, frustration mingling with raw thrill.

"I won’t lose to some mystery guy. Not Leon. Not Edric. Not him. No one."

She rose to her feet again, her silhouette framed against the blazing steam and glittering ice. Her laughter rang loud and wild, echoing across the snow-swept peaks.

"Lyra Braveheart doesn’t settle for anything less than the top!"

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