Chapter 43: Frost Forged Weapons!

It was coming.

Cecil could feel heat building inside the Fire Monkey — far more intense than any of its previous bursts. The already‑warm air grew hotter still, and even the stone bricks beneath his feet turned faintly warm.

A low gurgle rumbled in the monkey’s throat. Its forepaws pressed against the ground, flames burning between its knuckles, melting four shallow indentations into the stone.

Then it moved.

This leap carried it higher than any before, nearly grazing the edge of the vault’s overhead beam. It twisted twice mid‑air. Its burnished golden‑red silhouette traced a blazing arc against the blue‑white backdrop.

Flames blazed brighter than ever at its claw‑tips; five fist‑sized fireballs ignited at each finger, fanning out mid‑air like an outstretched claw of fire.

Cecil lifted his right hand, gathering frost to hurl an ice sphere. Yet he was too slow. Before his gesture finished, Gwendolyn’s voice exploded from his shoulder, sharper and swifter than him.

"—Duck!"

She was not speaking to him. She was speaking to the ice.

Gwendolyn launched herself off his shoulder and flipped in mid‑air. Her blue‑white scales doubled in brightness in that instant, as if a lamp had been lit deep within her. She opened her jaws — not exhaling wispy frost, but expelling a rapidly taking‑shape mass.

Ice.

What poured from her mouth was no mere mist, rime or shard. It flowed like living liquid, coalescing mid‑air into a swiftly expanding formation.

A base formed first, then it grew upward, thickening and rising every second. It surged up from the ground right in front of Cecil, like a fortress raised in an instant. Its surface was mirror‑smooth, shifting from translucent pale blue to deep icy azure.

Fine sharp edges crystallized along its rim, each facet reflecting the dome’s blue‑white radiance like countless aligned mirrors.

It kept growing. It would not stop.

The ice barrier rose past Cecil’s head and climbed higher still, towering above a full‑grown man, then taller than a horse, surpassing the height of a single‑story building before finally halting roughly two stories high. Its width covered the entire fan‑shaped zone dozens of paces forward of Cecil.

Its edges sank into gaps between stone bricks, merging with the arena floor. Swirling frost patterns drifted slowly across its surface, as though the living barrier drew breath.

The Fire Monkey’s attack slammed home.

All five fireballs crashed against the ice wall, bursting into blinding orange‑red light. Heat waves and steam billowed outward from the impact points. Thick white vapour swallowed the centre of the arena, just as when red‑hot iron plunges into icy water.

The roar of exploding fire lingered for nearly three seconds before fading. As steam dispersed, everyone saw the condition of the ice barrier.

Three deep scorch marks marred its face; the deepest had burned through one‑third of its total thickness, fine bubbles still fizzing along its edges. Yet the main body remained unshattered and upright, standing like a giant seared by flame but not broken.

The swirling frost patterns slowly and steadily mended the scorches. Melted sections refroze under cold energy, filling the gashes, though the repaired patches bore a darker tint.

The Fire Monkey landed on the far side of the barrier. Its paws bounced on contact as if burned — the ground temperature around the wall had plummeted. The flames at its golden‑red paw‑tips flickered out for a moment upon touching the chilled stone.

It tilted its head and stared at the massive ice wall. The playful glint in its amber eyes vanished, replaced by something new — a slow, assessing wariness it had not even shown toward the Copper‑Jawed Lizard.

Cecil stood behind the barrier and looked up at the towering wall. Its scale exceeded everything he had expected. Normally Gwendolyn’s frost produced no more than a thin sheet of ice, yet this time she had unleashed far more power than usual. He glanced down.

Gwendolyn crouched on the ground beside his feet, her blue‑white scales dusted with fine rime as though just pulled from an ice cellar. Her small chest heaved rapidly, thin white mist curling from her breath.

"...That cost you this much?" Cecil knelt beside her.

"Of course it did." Gwendolyn’s voice sounded weaker than usual, yet her "what nonsense are you spouting" tone lingered. "This wall drained almost half my current reserves. Still —" she glanced toward the slowly self‑repairing frost patterns on the barrier "—it will hold. It cannot burn through this. Not before it exhausts itself."

Cecil stood and circled out from the side of the ice wall. On the opposite side, the Fire Monkey pricked its ears upon spotting him, yet it did not leap immediately. Its gaze flicked back and forth between Cecil and the giant ice barrier, re‑evaluating the fight.

For a heartbeat, silence fell over the spectator stands. Then someone whispered, "...That ice wall. Did that lizard conjure that?"

"That was no ordinary lizard," another replied, heavy with newfound respect. "No, it was not."

Up on the platform, Leon’s ice‑blue eyes lingered long on the rotating frost patterns across the ice. His Thunder Griffin rose to its feet beside him, golden plumage fluffing slightly, its pupils reflecting the blue‑white glow bouncing off the ice.

Leon said nothing. His arms stayed folded across his chest, yet his knuckles tightened — a small, subtle tension, as though something had brushed against the boundary of what he understood.

The moment Cecil stepped out from behind the ice wall, the Fire Monkey locked onto his movement. No more feints, no deceptive leaps. It dropped low, hind‑limb muscles coiling tight, its golden‑red tail stretched rigid behind it, and charged straight at him.

It moved faster than before. Its claws raked four spark‑trailing gouges across the stone. The flames at its fingertips swelled from candle‑wick size to fist‑sized. The distance between them shrank to three paces in less than two seconds.

Cecil did not retreat. He took half a step forward to meet the charge. Frost gathered in his right hand, yet before he could complete forming an ice sphere, the monkey’s left paw swept toward him.

He twisted aside to dodge. Fire singed the front of his robe, searing a black scorch mark into the fabric. Using the momentum of his dodge, he slammed his half‑formed frost against the monkey’s ribs. Hissing erupted as rime bit into its golden‑red fur.

Instead of jumping away, the Fire Monkey spun with the blow, its tail lashing toward Cecil’s calf like a burning whip.

Cecil jumped to evade the tail strike. He stumbled backward on landing, off‑balance. The monkey gave him no time to recover. Both paws lunged together, twin streaks of fire crossing right in front of him. Rolling heat washed over his face, making his skin burn taut.

"—Catch!"

Gwendolyn’s voice called from behind the ice wall. Out of the corner of his eye, Cecil saw a blue‑white shape flying toward him — not an ice ball, but a roughly‑hewn yet clearly defined ice sword, roughly two feet long, its blade translucent icy‑blue with fine flowing frost patterns along its edge.

Cecil grasped its hilt. Biting cold flooded his palm, solid and heavy, different from frost he conjured himself. It felt denser, more stable, as if Gwendolyn had compressed cold energy to its absolute limit before passing it to him.

The weight sat perfectly, balance resting one‑third down the blade, giving satisfying inertia as he swung.

The Fire Monkey pushed off the ground and charged again. Cecil swung the ice sword in a horizontal arc. When blade met the fire wreathing its claws, billowing steam burst forth, sparks and ice shards spraying everywhere. The sword deflected the monkey’s strike, sending its body tilting sideways.

Cecil pressed forward without waiting for it to steady itself. His horizontal cut shifted into an angled downward slash aimed at the monkey’s shoulder.

The Fire Monkey twisted to avoid the blade, yet frost carried by the sword grazed the fur on its left arm. That patch of golden‑red fur darkened instantly, and the flames over that spot died out for two full seconds.

The Fire Monkey screeched and hopped two paces back. It scratched at its frost‑nipped left arm with its paws. Its amber gaze fixed once more on the ice sword in Cecil’s hand, lingering for a moment.

"Works well," Cecil murmured under his breath.

Gwendolyn’s voice came from behind the barrier, broken by gasping breaths. "Make good use of it. I can still hold on."

As she spoke, a second object slid out from beside the ice wall: a much smaller round ice shield, about eighteen inches across, like a thick icy disc with bevelled edges. It skidded across the stone and halted at Cecil’s feet, its glossy surface shimmering with blue‑white light.

Cecil bent and picked it up. Shield in his left hand, sword in his right. The round shield weighed less than the sword, feeling like thick heavy glass. He tested his range of motion; it did not hinder his left arm. Though heavier than a wooden shield, it would not melt in combat — Gwendolyn’s frost continuously repaired its surface.

The Fire Mongo dropped low again. It eyed the new ice shield in Cecil’s grip, its amber eyes dimming further, calculating what this extra piece of defence meant. Then it moved, not in a straight rush, but curving wide, trying to circle toward Cecil’s left blind‑side.

Cecil shifted sideways, raising the round shield to his left. The monkey’s claws crashed against its surface. Sparks and ice fragments exploded outward.

A shallow scorch mark appeared, yet Gwendolyn’s frost sealed it instantly. The recoil knocked the monkey half a step backward. The instant it touched down, Cecil lunged forward stabbing with the ice sword. The tip grazed the side of its right leg, leaving a long trail of frost.

The Fire Monkey leaped away. A slowly‑fading frost mark clung to its right leg. Flames were re‑spreading over the fur, yet its movements had grown noticeably slower.

"Its right leg," Gwendolyn called from behind the ice barrier. "Your strike hit the tendons. It is putting far more weight onto its left leg now."

Cecil saw it. The monkey’s stance tilted slightly, its centre of gravity shifted onto its left limb. Its right leg trembled faintly each time it bore weight. Though the frost was melting, the cold’s effect on its tendons lingered.

Cecil wasted no time. He moved toward the monkey’s right side, ice sword leading, shield covering his left. The Fire Monkey was forced to turn to face him, and every rotation of its right leg brought a moment of awkward lag.

A third object slid out from beside the ice wall: a short ice spear, one arm’s length long, sharp‑tipped, covered in winding flowing frost patterns. Gwendolyn’s voice came, quieter than before yet still clear. "Last one. After this, you will have to conjure your own."