Between the bear’s roar and the hiss of the snow beneath his boots, he kept walking—never stopping until the sounds behind him faded into nothing.

  This should be perfect. Just like I planned. There’s nothing wrong with this. It’s perfect. Once she’s gone, there’ll be no competition. Grandfather will have no choice but to appoint me as the next hero. Father’s place in the household will be secured. It will be our victory…

  He stopped. He tried to clench his hands, but they wouldn't stop trembling.

  “Then why am I hesitating so much?”

  Glancing back, he saw the snowy path he had crossed. Somehow, it looked easier to walk back than to move forward.

  He turned his head away. “It’s her fault things turned out like this! I—I could have been the hero on my own, and she could have just—”

  He froze. Silence. The kind that pressed against his ears. His gaze drifted back once more toward the path he had abandoned.

  “Damn it!” His shout tore through the stillness.

  “Who am I kidding? If I let her die like this, I’ll never be able to look myself in the mirror.”

  One step. Then another. His pace quickened, boots crunching through the snow.

  “Don't you dare die on me!”

  ***

  She could hear the bear’s breathing—loud, ragged, and drawing closer with every moment.

  Despite the crushing weight on her body, she forced her eyelids open.

  “Ugh...” She brought a hand to her head, then stared at the blood covering her palm. “D-did I pass out?..”

  When she faced forward, Isengrim was there, approaching at a steady pace, its heavy breaths sending puffs of steam into the cold air. Every few steps, it paused, glancing over its shoulder before resuming its slow advance.

  "Maybe I can win?" The memory of her own words mocked her. She clenched her teeth and angrily swiped her hand through the air. “How stupid!” she hissed.

  It was never about winning or losing. It was about surviving.

  Her gaze drifted upward, to the pale sky. Lysric… why did you— Was it fear? Or… was this your plan all along?...Why? What did I do to you? Why does everyone try to hurt each other? Aren’t we supposed to be family?

  Stolen novel; please report.

  She could feel something boiling inside her. It was an emotion she was unfamiliar with. It was anger.

  Looking back down, she drew in a harsh breath and clenched her teeth. “Fine. Then I’ll do the same. I'll 'hurt' the others too.”

  She pushed herself upright, using the tree for support. The bear noticed the movement and let out a deep growl, taking a few wary steps back.

  Listen, Aelira… In the moment between life and death, what makes you the victor… is determination. No matter what happens, don’t give up.

  Her teacher’s words echoed in her mind.

  Another memory followed.

  You’re putting too much power into it—your body can’t handle that. Be gentler… let it flow.

  She let the flow settle over her body, covering her like a warm, soft blanket. Her body felt heavy but lighter at the same time.

  She lifted her hands, opening and closing them. She could feel the power within her.

  Is this how it's supposed to feel? Warm, calm... Something told her it was different from what she expected, but she ignored it. Right now, what's important is—

  Finally closing her hand, she locked her gaze on her enemy, Isengrim.

  Sensing something, the bear stopped, rising onto its hind legs and roaring so loudly the air seemed to shake.

  A second later, she vanished from sight. Snow sprayed where she had been as she darted past the bear, too fast for it to touch her. She reached the sword that had been flung away earlier and snatched it up, the cold metal steadying her resolve.

  She turned her gaze toward Isengrim, lowering her stance, blade angled in front of her.

  The bear, sensing danger, tried to pivot toward her—too late. Her slash bit into its left hind leg, breaking its balance and forcing it to stumble.

  She barely stopped herself from tumbling forward, spun, and faced it again. Raising one hand toward the beast, she began to concentrate, mana swirling into her palm as sparks emerged.

  “|Fire Ball|”

  The blazing sphere burst from her hand and struck the bear square in the chest, the impact knocking it onto its side.

  Seizing the opening, she rushed in, blade flashing. Deep cuts opened across Isengrim’s hide, blood staining the snow.

  The great beast let out a pained, echoing cry, stunned—but not defeated.

  Not yet… it still has power.

  She moved in again. Isengrim lashed out desperately, claws tearing the air, but each strike missed by inches.

  Sliding to a halt several paces away, Aelira steadied herself for another spell. As mana flowed, small ice particles also appeared. They stopped, finally taking the shape of a lance.

  “|Ice Lance|”

  The frozen spear shot forward, her trembling hands still finding their mark on the already wounded leg. The bear roared in agony, collapsing onto its side and clawing at the snow.

  Its cries eventually faded. Shuddering, it rose one last time and let out a final roar.

  Aelira, halfway through preparing another spell, froze. The color returned to her eyes, and her expression softened.

  Isengrim could stand no longer. It collapsed into the snow, sending up a cloud of white.

  A shadow of regret crossed her features. “I… I’m sorry.”

  The bear’s breathing was shallow now. Its eyes were half-closed, as if fighting against its fate.

  She stepped forward. It tried to growl, to warn her back, but no strength remained in its voice.

  Kneeling beside it, she gently rested a hand on its head. “I'm sorry...”

  “None of this had anything to do with you... You were probably looking for food here for yourself or your children, right?”

  The bear let out a quiet snort, as if trying to express its anger and resentment.

  “I know... It's okay. You can rest now.”

  As if understanding her words, Isengrim exhaled one last warm breath, and its eyes closed slowly.