I regressed and became the Sword Ice King

'Well….that went terribly wrong.'

Ciara's thoughts reeled in as she stared at the creature's hollow eyes.

An incarnation of Wind and Miasma.

Powerful as it was fast.

Flashes of images of what led to their inevitability played in motion in her head.

Their strikes and spells had landed, but Nicho had moved too fast to follow.

Like the wind, he appeared unexpectedly. He brought with him a tremendous amount of air force. Blasting them on multiple occasions.

Her spells weren't fast enough, but they dealt damage when they struck, but it wasn't enough.

Louis had a better hand. He was just as fast, if not, faster.

He had caught up to Nicho on multiple occasions. Locking him in a tight deadlock, before Nicho overpowered his way through.

The first demonic gate.

That was what he called it.

After that, the shift in the air had become palpable.

It became relatively harder to land a single strike, and Louis was beginning to struggle at even reaching a foot close to him.

One transformation.

That was all it took before Nicho pinned them.

He had used a transcendent skill.

The Miasma Wind Spirit.

The skill that currently holds them by their neck. Pushing them against the pipeline like a cornered rat. Pressing their bodies terribly hard to grab every form of free will available to them.

Now, they were stuck. Pinned. Locked.

Escape was impossible.

Death. Probable.

Though, captured? Inevitable.

Knowing this, Ciara let her thoughts reel. She let them settle.

She let them tick and turn.

Spinning in overdrive.

Concocting a way out. Any form of it.

She could strike now. Use her Great Spells if she has to, but Nicho was merely at the first transformation.

What of the second? What of the third?

The second would more than pulverise her if she tried to resist.

Even twitching a finger might bring a fate worse than death.

She didn't know that for sure—but the thought was growing roots.

It could bloom into clarity if enough data from this moment on, storms into something more.

Though, her mind knew it was over. Her body didn't.

The provocation. The annoyance. The irritation that lingered from her predicament.

She hated it.

The feeling of being weak.

It lingered like the aftertaste of your first drink.

Bitter. Suffocating. Permanent.

But, it didn't have to be so.

'If we can't win…we can at least talk our way out of it…' She thought to herself. 'I can….I can make a deal.'

A frown formed on her bloodied, pale face.

Lips trembling from the chokehold of pain that assaulted her.

Hair dishevelled like a broken princess.

Scars and dried blood from cut wounds lingered on her face. Her lips. Her cheeks.

The sharp sting remained. Stuck.

A constant reminder.

'Make a deal with a demonic human?' She let the thought settle for a while.

Slowly shifting her pupils to the side where she caught a glimpse of Louis in the same predicament.

Albeit, worse.

She swore under her breath.

'I would rather die.'

*****

Nicho had been staring at his two captors for a while now.

Letting their images settle in his mind until footsteps echoed in his ear.

He blinked. Frowned.

Then turned around.

"I thought I told you to stay back."

"Oh, come on~" Ruffia Jones proclaimed.

Her voice, teasing and playful in a suspicious kind of way.

"I do not want to hear it." He ordered. His tone grew deeply annoyed. He turned his head slowly back towards his captives.

"Get back."

Ruffia Jones clicked her tongue and took a step back.

Glancing upwards where her gaze met Ciara's.

She smirked.

Ciara glared.

Nicho ignored.

Instead, he turned to Louis.

"Louis La Teuer." He said with an amused tone. "How embarrassing it must be for you to end up this way."

Louis. The dark-haired assassin looked up.

His face riddled with as many wounds and dried blood as Ciara's– If not more.

Blood dribbled down the edge of his lips.

Pain bearing fruit within his body in high amounts.

Yet, his expression was as dead as ever– if not more.

The semblance of warmth, gone.

Replaced by what it was before. Pale. Cold. Silent. Dark.

It held weight in many ways. Spoke of years of hardship hidden beneath the cold exterior.

Still, that cold face smirked.

Contrary to his form in every way.

A subtle smile. A glee. A look of amusement.

He licked the blood from his lips with a flick of his tongue. Held his head high and his gaze down.

As if dirt was the only way he could view Nicho.

"You think you defeated me?" He asked.

His tone, dry and crispy.

Coming as jagged rocks scraping against a dried shore.

He scoffed.

"Don't make me laugh."

Nicho raised a brow. Tilting his head to the side.

"What could possibly make you laugh about this? I captured you." He said.

Louis' statement was playing in his head.

"After all, you lost that same arm to a kid of the Great Families….Did you not?"

Clear words of provocation. Yet, it was right on the bullseye.

He fell for it. Hook, line and sinker.

And he hated himself for that.

'It's annoying that I have to stay behind and let Mila and the others capture them instead of finding that Jun prick myself and killing him.'

He frowned slightly. Just slightly.

A nudge of his brows. A curve of his lips.

It was faint. But there anyway.

Anyone observant could tell and Louis was one of the top when it came to observation.

His smirk lingered. Stretching by just an inch while he watched.

Nicho looked up from his thoughts.

A sigh escaped his lips.

"Your capture would be helpful in our need."

Now was not the time to give in to his emotions.

They had a task.

Capture fifty Non-system users.

Alive or Near death. It didn't matter.

But Nicho could tell they wanted them alive rather than anywhere near death.

It would push the sacrifice success rate a lot higher if they were.

"I don't have time to play with your games. Mind or physical."

He rolled his shoulders slightly as a heavy sigh escaped his lips.

"Nothing will change your fate."

Louis scoffed at his statement. Loudly.

Enough to catch even Ciara by surprise.

But why wouldn't she?

Louis had shown more emotions in a span of a night than he had ever done throughout his life.

Though, from her perspective.

She found it odd. Ominous even.

To the point she had concluded multiple times this night with one single statement each time he showcased emotions.

'It's not right.'

Louis revealing emotions was not right.

"Running away now, are we?" his voice broke through her thoughts and grabbed their attention towards him.

Nicho raised a brow in confusion.

"What?" He said, "Running from who? You? Who I captured? Who's locked within my grasp? A thread away from dying?"

He shook his head.

"I believe you're the one who's about to make me laugh."

Louis shrugged. Moving his immovable limbs with a subtle glee.

"I'm just saying." He said. "If not for your constant use of demonic abilities, then this would have been over a long time ago."

His crimson eyes pulsed. A cold glint emanating from it.

"Of course, in my victory."

A frown formed. The edges of his well-crafted features bite hard on themselves. Jaws clenched.

"You think a win entails using the abilities of another? Depending on a devil to give you what you lack as an individual. That's Pitiful. It's sad. Disgusting."

Taking a slow pause, he said.

"You haven't won anything. Simply wallowed in a pool of self-disrespect and Depravity."

Silence hung heavy at the end of his statement.

Their gazes all focused on Louis at this point.

His words seemed to linger.

It invaded their thoughts and sat in their minds. Spiralling with the rest of their thoughts.

Ciara sighed inwardly.

'It's expected.' She thought. 'Every member of the Great Families, despite our heritage, had to work to get to where we were.'

She turned her gaze towards Nicho.

'Talents are useless without effort. Minimum efforts sometimes produce results, but maximum? It takes the cake.'

Her gaze narrowed to a slit while she stared at Nicho. Thoughts came to a halt.

'That's why demonic Humans disgust us. Because unlike us and any other respected powerful human, they took a shortcut and sided with the Devils.'

'Treacherous beings for a sip of power that would never truly be there.'

A groan pierced the silence. Snapped her from her thoughts.

Louis seemed to have opened his mouth to speak. Again.

Another character he had been showing since the beginning of the night.

Louis doesn't usually talk this much.

"I'm unimpressed, Nicho."

Nicho shook his head as he turned around to walk away.

"Why would I care about what you think"

A statement, rather than a question.

Fairing far from rhetorical because it didn't just not–need an answer. It was oblivious to it.

They watched in silence as Nicho made his exit.

Ruffia Jones followed closely behind.

The wind demon seemed to have moved. It noticed the sudden departure of its master and began to trail behind them– slowly.

It was a matter of time now– Inevitable.

At least, that was the conclusion they all drew until the quake happened.

Slowly first. Slight and delicate, but in a matter of seconds.

Before they could process what was about to begin.

It grew. Powerful. Tremendous and it spread.

The sudden, trembling rage of force shook the Pipelines like a rattlesnake.

Causing the iron pipes to bend and scream.

A moan of resistance echoed against the hollow pipes.

It shuddered greatly.

Reverberating with such force and amplitude that it felt like the pipes were about to break.

In fact, they began to.

Cracks spread like spiderwebs.

Weaving its way through the iron like it was silk. Tearing and breaking its parts with a weak nudge of its force.

Nicho stood shaken. Both physically and mentally.

He whipped his head back. Glancing at his two captors– still captured.

They couldn't have caused this.

Not with that level of bondage.

His thoughts scattered. Piecing itself together to form a puzzle without an image.

Then it happened.

The mana reflux.

Spells and Skills deactivated in seconds.

Mana cut off from its circuits and drained from its circles.

All in the blink of an eye.

The wind demon dispersed into the air and his captors received freedom as their bodies landed with a thud.

Of course, on their feet.

Ruffia stepped back. Nicho stepped forward.

Louis glanced at Ciara.

Their confusion portrayed with their expressions.

Then they turned their heads at their captors.

Louis smiled. Ominous. Dangerous. Playful.

His lips parted. Words coming out in poisoned honey.

"This will be fun."