The relic pulsed in my hands like a living heart—neither warm nor cold, but both at once. Blue light flickered inside the crystal, weaving with red like day and night locked in an endless embrace. As I held it, my chest mark began to glow faintly, answering the relic's rhythm.
From within, Arina's voice whispered like a hymn.
"Host, this energy… it responds to your Divine Mark. Proceed slowly. If you absorb it too quickly, it could shatter your spiritual core."
I steadied my breath. The air around me trembled as wisps of light leaked from the crystal and flowed into me. Pain flashed through my veins—sharp, pure, electric. I bit down a cry as I felt both frost and flame surge into my body. For a moment, my heart felt like a battlefield of extremes.
Then, everything turned silent.
The glow expanded from my chest, surrounding me in white light. Within that light, I saw visions—an ancient altar beneath twin suns, warriors kneeling before a goddess whose eyes reflected both fire and snow. Her voice broke the silence:
"Balance is the bridge between destruction and creation. Accept this truth, and the worlds shall open to you."
When the vision faded, I dropped to one knee, gasping. My breath turned to steam. Beneath my skin, new energy pulsed, heavier and deeper.
Arina's tone was calm now but filled with awe. "Synchronization complete. The relic—The Heart of Equinox—has merged with your Divine Mark. Your internal energy has evolved into the dual attribute path. Cultivation increased to the Golden Soul Realm, Initial Stage. You have achieved early-stage spiritual awakening. The Snowfire Blade now channels both elements as one essence."
I opened my palm. Thin trails of light spiralled outward — one red, one blue, circling before merging into pure white. It felt… different. Not just power. It felt whole.
Lian Xueyin watched quietly, her expression unreadable. "That energy," she said softly, "it's the same as the legends of the Goddess who created this world."
I looked up at her. "Maybe it chose us because it sees something worth saving."
She smiled faintly. "Or something worth testing."
The wind rose again, carrying snowflakes and ash, but I felt no cold now. Within me, fire and frost existed side by side—balanced, steady, alive.
We returned to the fortress two days later. Word had already travelled faster than we did. By the time we crossed the gates, dozens of soldiers waited near the courtyard. Their eyes widened when they saw us unharmed—and the relic's faint glow emanating from the crystal sealed inside my satchel.
Captain Feng met us at once. For the first time, he actually smiled. "You did it. The Imperial Scout Unit confirmed the frost storm stopped after your fight. The relic's energy vanished from the sky."
"It didn't vanish," I said quietly. "It's contained."
He studied me for a moment, eyes narrowing as if he could sense the change in my aura. "Whatever that relic did, it's changed you, hasn't it?"
Before I could reply, Arina's gentle whisper passed through my mind.
"Caution, host. The relic's fusion must remain hidden. Exposing it could attract forces even beyond this continent."
I nodded slightly and turned back to the captain. "Maybe. But the relic's safe now—that's what matters."
By evening, word of our mission's success had spread not just through the fortress but across the capital itself. I overheard soldiers whispering by the training grounds:
"They say the Loser Prince fought a guardian that could crush mountains."
"Some claim his sword glowed with heavenly fire."
"No—they say he wielded both ice and flame."
I didn't respond to the talk. Rumours were like wind—they came and went. Still, I couldn't deny a quiet warmth inside that I hadn't felt in years.
At sunset, Captain Feng called a small gathering. "By command of the Empire," he announced, "Prince Mukul Zhao and Lady Lian Xueyin are to be recognized for their valour in securing the Frostheart relic."
A stunned hush filled the stone hall. Recognition—in front of the same men who once mocked me as dead weight.
I bowed slightly. "Thank you."
When the ceremony ended, I stepped outside alone. The night was calm—stars scattered across a deep blue sky. The fortress torches burned low, their flames bright against the frost.
Arina's voice drifted softly through my thoughts.
"Host, new system pathways have been unlocked due to relic resonance. Techniques available: Equinox Art: Dual Harmony Flow and Heavenly Fire Lotus Seal. Do you wish to review them?"
"Later," I said quietly. "For now, I just want to breathe."
A moment later, I felt someone approach. Lian Xueyin joined me by the parapet, her hair catching the moonlight. "You've changed," she said. "Your eyes burn warmer now."
"Maybe because I finally see where I'm heading," I replied. "Before, I only wanted revenge and strength. But now… I think I want balance too."
She looked at me with that calm, distant gaze that always seemed to hide storms behind it. "Balance," she repeated. "For someone who carries both flame and frost, that's fitting."
There was silence between us then—a comfortable one.
"I heard the soldiers talking," she said at last. "They're calling you the Flame of Frost. It suits you."
I chuckled. "Flame of Frost? Sounds dramatic."
Her lips curved upward. "Every legend starts with a little drama."
The wind brushed past us, cold but gentle. I turned my eyes to the mountains beyond the walls. Somewhere out there, hidden in shadow, more secrets of this world waited.
Arina's final whisper reached me before dawn.
"Host, your presence now echoes across the Tianyuan Continent. The Empire has taken notice. Greater challenges will follow—and greater rewards. Are you ready to step beyond the fortress?"
I took a long breath. "I've been ready since the day they threw me away."
The mark on my chest glowed faintly, reflecting both frost and flame in its spiral. The winds shifted, as if carrying my resolve into the distant peaks.
Behind me, Lian Xueyin's voice came quiet but sure. "Then let's walk that storm together."
And under the moon's cold fire, I smiled—not as a fallen prince, but as the man the heavens were finally beginning to remember.