A relentless white void stretched before them—a frozen wasteland where the horizon blurred into an endless sheet of ice.
The winter wind roared like an ancient, vengeful spirit, its icy talons raking their exposed skin. Every breath was a brief ghost of vapor, vanishing into the frozen abyss.
Daigo's eyes, dark and unwavering, swept over the desolation. A bitter smile twisted his lips. "This is it,"he said quietly, his tone almost amused by the grim reality. "An island of ice… a fitting tomb for those who dare defy fate."
Ishigo's face, however, betrayed his inner turmoil. His gaze was fixed on the horizon, where the barren ice met the churning gray sky. "An island to freeze to death on," he muttered, his voice low and edged with dread.
Their journey into Level 3 had begun, and with it came a new realm of terror—a place where the very air whispered of death.
Their boots crunched against the glassy surface of the ice—a sound that reverberated through the stillness, amplifying their isolation.
The ice itself was unnervingly transparent, as if concealing secrets within its crystalline depths. An unshakable sensation of being watched prickled at the back of their necks, a silent premonition of the horrors to come.
Without warning, the silence shattered.
SHHHHHHK!
A spear of ice—sharp and merciless—raced through the frozen air. Daigo's command was immediate, his voice slicing through the howling wind: "YEAGA, MOVE!"
In a flash, Yeaga's body reacted. He twisted with lightning reflexes, narrowly evading the deadly projectile that skittered past his neck. The icy tip grazed his skin, sending a jolt of searing pain and leaving a thin line of blood in its wake. For a suspended moment, time halted as his eyes widened in astonishment—the blood defied gravity, lingering in the air like cursed rubies suspended in frost.
Daigo and Ishigo halted, their expressions a mix of shock and grim resolve. Their gaze followed the trail of crimson droplets until it led them to an unspeakable scene: in the distance, a solitary figure stood against the bleak expanse, a harbinger of death.
The figure was unmistakably a Kageshiki—a creature of nightmare. Its neck had been sliced with surgical precision, leaving only a thin scar of red against the pallor of its skin.
With a single, bone-jarring THUMP, the head detached and fell onto the ice. In that instant, blood erupted in a grotesque cascade, arcing through the air before splattering onto the frozen ground, staining everything with its macabre signature.
Yeaga's heart pounded fiercely as he whispered, "Where… where is that blood going?" His voice quavered under the weight of disbelief.
Ishigo's terror consumed him. Dropping to his knees, he clutched his hair as panic and despair mingled. "I'm going to die here…"he choked out, voice cracking under the pressure. "Why did I come to this forsaken place?"
Before the group could succumb to despair, Daigo's presence shone like a beacon of grim determination. Placing a firm hand on Ishigo's head, he declared, "You will not die. We stand together, or not at all."His voice, resolute and unwavering, cut through the dread that clung to them like frost.
At that moment, the ice beneath their feet groaned and shifted—a deep, resonant rumble emanated from the distance. The atmosphere thickened with an otherworldly energy, and the sensation of being watched grew ever stronger.
From the swirling mists of the frozen landscape, three more figures emerged. They moved with predatory grace, each step measured and fluid, as if they were shadows coalescing into tangible menace. Their eyes, devoid of mercy, locked onto the weary travelers, marking them as prey.
Just then, a solitary figure broke from the periphery—a determined warrior whose defiant spirit burned fiercely in the icy gloom. Reika, her breath shallow and measured, assessed the encroaching threat. "Who are you?" she demanded, her voice sharp and unwavering. "You're an Ice Shikiban, aren't you?"
A male Shikiban stepped forward, his cruel smile twisting into a snarl. "Indeed, we are Shikiban. And we are male,"he replied with a chilling arrogance, his voice dripping with disdain. His words sent a new wave of cold terror through Reika, as if the very sound could freeze her heart.
Realizing that remaining still meant certain death, Reika dashed forward. Her blade flashed like a streak of hope amid the bleak winter. SLASH! The steel met its target, but instead of a clean cut, an overwhelming surge of energy blasted through her arm. A shockwave, as potent as a winter storm, forced her to stumble back, her body crashing against the hard, icy ground.
"You… human?" the Shikiban mocked, his tone laden with contempt. His eyes glimmered with a predatory light, as he regarded her with utter disdain. "Do you truly believe you can defeat me?"
Pain seared through Reika's body as she struggled to rise. Every movement was agony, but defiance burned in her eyes. "You're nothing," she spat back fiercely. "Cowards hide behind walls of ice, but I fight with my heart."
The Shikiban's smile broadened, a sinister crescent that seemed to slice through the bitter cold. With a subtle, almost imperceptible gesture, the ground trembled. In an instant, jagged spikes of ice erupted from beneath—a towering wall of crystalline death that surged upward, blocking Reika's path.
"This wall,"the creature taunted, its voice a low, resonant growl, "is not merely a barrier—it is a weapon, forged from our will."The air around them crackled with raw, elemental power as shards of ice were hurled outward with lethal precision.
Reika's instincts kicked in. She dodged and weaved through the onslaught, her blade a blur in the chaotic flurry. Yet, fate was unrelenting—a shard grazed her hand with a sickening
CRACK
tearing through flesh and sending a spray of blood onto the ice. "Damn it!" she hissed, rage mingling with pain as she clutched her injured hand. The taste of iron filled her mouth, fueling her determination.
But the assault was relentless. Another shard, faster than the last, surged toward her. With a desperate twist, she narrowly avoided its fatal arc. Yet, the Shikiban was not finished. In a single, devastating motion, it hurled a massive boulder, its momentum aimed squarely at her head.
"You cannot escape!" it sneered. The rock collided with the ice with a thunderous BOOM, sending shockwaves rippling outward and scattering debris like
A relentless white void stretched before them—a frozen wasteland where the horizon blurred into an endless sheet of ice. The winter wind roared like an ancient, vengeful spirit, its icy talons raking their exposed skin. Every breath was a brief ghost of vapor, vanishing into the frozen abyss.