CHAPTER 140: 140-ICE PHOENIX MATRIARCH’S WRATH

Alex replied, "Thanks, but I’m okay now, I think."

Thud!

He fell headfirst onto the ground.

Selene and Rina both screamed at the same time, "Alex!"

Luther crouched down with a concerned face and checked him, then sighed. "He’s okay—just lost consciousness."

The Principal came down after the man in black clothes vanished. He looked at the stadium—split in half, burning on one side, covered in blood on the other.

He gritted his teeth as his eyes fell on the corpses. Some were just halves of bodies—upper torsos, lower limbs, arms, and legs scattered around the stadium seats.

The Principal moved, clenching his fists, his beard trembling in anger. He checked every corner, every little nook—like he was trying to etch everything into his mind.

He muttered, "Ashen Dawn... No, not only Ashen Dawn. Monsters too. They’re working together."

The academy stadium he was once so proud of—standing for hundreds of years—was now broken completely, covered in blood and the bodies of innocent people. People who had just come to watch. Yes, they were nobles. Yes, they loathed the commoners. But killing people just for hate?

Is that justifiable?

He shook his head, looked up at the sky, and muttered,"Strength and power... is justification."

The Principal’s voice reverberated in the quiet aftermath:"Bring the injured to the infirmary."

With a flick of his hand, most of the remaining injured floated into the air. He moved out of the stadium.

The teachers, having heard the Principal’s command, sprang into action, carrying the wounded students—including Alex and his group.

The usually quiet infirmary was now swarming with noise. Healers in green uniforms rushed back and forth, their voices blending with cries of pain echoing from every bed. The infirmary stretched endlessly, patients occupying both rows on either side—wounded, groaning, some unconscious.

Far above, the academy still stood tall on the hill—like a mountain that had grown into smooth spires and a majestic castle.

But deep within the heart of that mountain, past stone and secrets, a dim blue light flickered into existence. It fell upon uneven walls—natural jagged rock like a cave—but the floor was polished obsidian tiles, unnaturally smooth.

Lying there, collapsed face-first on the floor, was a man with a bald head.

His shallow breathing echoed faintly off the damp chamber walls. He slowly rolled onto his back, the sound of rustling cloth breaking the eerie silence.

Jasper stared up at the jagged ceiling. His brown eyes were bloodshot, veins bulging, and the whites of his eyes looked like they were bleeding.

He groaned."Fuck... that core—to increase my rank for a short period—it was too much for my body."

He exhaled long and deep, then pulled a small vial from his pocket. The vial glowed with a vibrant green light—like it held life itself.

Without hesitation, he drank it in one gulp.

A warm breath escaped his lips as his body relaxed slightly. He slumped back against the cold rock wall, eyes half-lidded.

"I shouldn’t have attacked that brat," he muttered bitterly. "My soul attack was annihilated. Now I’ll have to suffer this brain-splitting pain for a month."

He sighed again and leaned his head back against the jagged stone.

A Little Earlier...

On the bridge leading toward the Teleportation Tower, a crimson wyvern and a hyena raced forward, accompanied by two black-clothed men. They sprinted at full speed toward the tower.

Below them, the sea roared—waves crashing against the rocks, drowning out the screech of claws and the rapid footsteps pounding the smooth stone of the bridge.

They reached the Teleportation Chamber.

One of the black-clothed men shouted urgently,"Hurry up and activate it! We have to leave—hurry!"

Suddenly, the teleportation circle shimmered—a blinding purple light erupted, forcing them to shut their eyes.

When the light finally vanished...

A woman stood there.

She wore sky-blue robes, her entire presence emanating an aura of frozen death. Her face was smooth like sculpted ice, and her pale blue eyes glowed like ancient snow.

Sara Frostreign, Matriarch of the Ice Phoenix Clan, had arrived.

She looked at the monsters before her with a gaze colder than the tundra. The temperature in the chamber dropped instantly—each breath turned to frozen mist.

The crimson wyvern and the hyena instinctively stepped back, their backs pressing against the icy stone wall.

The two black-clothed men—powerful Saint-ranked warriors—shivered, their bodies recoiling under her piercing stare that seemed to peer into their very souls.

Sara raised her high-heeled foot—ice blue heels clicking sharply on the frozen floor.

Clack—Click—

She stopped just in front of the kneeling men, now trembling.

Her voice was cold as death."So... trash dared to harm my daughter?"

She flicked her wrist.

Ice spikes erupted from the ground—rising swiftly, they pierced through the legs and arms of the two kneeling enemies.

"ARGGHHHHHHHH!"

Their gut-wrenching screams echoed through the chamber, blood forming a pool beneath their shattered limbs.

Sara’s icy eyes shifted toward the trembling monsters—the wyvern and the hyena—still pressed against the wall.

She stepped toward them.

The crimson wyvern and crazy hyena clung to the wall, as if it were their only savior.

Click.Clack.

The cold sound of Sara Frostreign’s footsteps echoed through the chamber, cutting through even the tortured screams of the men she had just impaled.

She approached the two monsters, her cold, pale eyes locking onto them.

The moment her gaze met theirs, the pressure around them intensified.

They were slammed flat to the floor—like filthy rugs beneath divine judgment.

Her voice, frosted with contempt, echoed through the chamber:

"You’re A-rank monsters."

She examined them both, her voice dropping into a frigid whisper."Which danger zone are you from?"

The monsters felt it—the chill in her gaze wasn’t just temperature. It pierced deeper. She was staring directly into their souls.

The crazy hyena raised its head, trembling."We... are from... SSS-rank..."

The crimson wyvern growled beside it,"Don’t... Slave."

Sara’s face twisted slightly with disgust.

She flicked her hand.

Crunch. Crunch. CRUNCH.

Ice spikes erupted from the ground, skewering their limbs in a flash.

The hyena’s growl merged into a human-like scream, distorted by pain.

She turned away, returning to the two black-clothed men, who still writhed in agony.

Without a word, she raised her hand once more.

Schlick!

Spikes shot up—piercing through their chests, and then their skulls.

The screams peaked—Then fell silent.

Blood pooled across the obsidian floor.

She turned back toward the monsters.

They were still struggling, growling weakly, trying in vain to escape the icy spears holding them down.

Sara’s eyes grew colder.

And the temperature in the chamber dropped again—this time sharply.

The crimson wyvern howled in agony—Its tail was freezing.

The pain intensified by a hundredfold. It screeched and roared, shaking the walls with its voice.

Sara turned toward the crazy hyena, her expression unchanged. She repeated the same gesture.

Crunch.

More ice spikes erupted, piercing through its limbs.

Both monsters writhed, strapped to the ground, trapped and helpless.

The freezing began at their tails and crept upward, slow and merciless.

The ice crawled up their bodies, spreading toward their heads.

They screamed.

They wanted to die—But couldn’t.

They wanted to run—But couldn’t.

And in that moment, they felt something they hadn’t felt in centuries:

Fear.

The fear of humans.The fear of a Sage.

Their hearts pounded as the screams echoed through the teleportation chamber.

Standing above them, the Ice Beauty, Sara Frostreign, looked down at their crumbling forms—her eyes cold and godlike.

A goddess delivering judgment to mortal beasts.