I regressed and became the Sword Ice King

Louis' gaze trailed after Ciara as she left.

His chest grew tight as a familiar yet alien sensation crept into it.

The feeling was natural, and he had learnt to recognise it when it came.

It was longing.

His mind was already made up that Ciara would find her. Mariam.

And once she did, he could finally be with her again.

His thoughts pooled into his mind. Vivid images and words are taking shape. A form which was all too familiar and surreal for him.

It was ironic. The feeling grew while he faced an opponent bearing a sword at his neck.

The thought made him smile. Just the nudge of his lips.

A warm one that exuded the emotions drowned within a river of blood.

'Even in the face of death, you make me calm.'

Daydreaming at a time like this?

No, this was far from who Louis was.

Though, Nicho didn't intend to give him the luxury of snapping out of it.

With a powerful step forward, he pushed him backwards.

That alone was enough force to bring him back to the present.

"Lost in thoughts?" Nicho's voice snapped.

A raspy venom that blurred the bright memories that once flooded his mind.

An ichor of black and red to the images that took shape.

It spread. Slowly.

Tugging him away from the warmth.

Louis' face contorted into a frown. Deep. Annoyed.

He remained silent, still.

Locking gazes with the odachi wielder instead.

"Well, get over yourself. You think I didn't consider that for some obscene reason ....I was incapable of returning to my quarters?"

Louis' face grew stern.

"Yeah. That's right." Nicho said through gritted teeth.

A grin plastered on his face as his eyes flicked with an ominous glee.

"Ciara will be working right into my trap."

With a swift move of his arm, Louis' dagger scraped its way past Nicho's odachi.

A spark of iron and metal ignited in a spark as it drew near to Nicho's face.

The latter nudged his head backwards. His eyes traced the movement of the dagger as it neared.

He gritted his teeth.

Bones nearly snapped from the force of his action, while metal met flesh.

A scrap. Right past his forehead.

Blood flashed out in a gust. Seeping down from his temple to the rest of his face.

Nicho groaned in pain. The subtle flinching of his body as it held in an awkward position. His eyes darted to Louis and his body moved in an instant.

He sent his sword through the air, slicing the molecules in its path, downwards to upwards, towards Louis' thigh.

It drew near, bearing fruit in its wake until it didn't.

With a clink, Louis grabbed the blade of the odachi with his bare hand.

A gust of crimson energy waves into existence around it.

He locked it tightly in his grasp and kicked his leg forward. Stomping Nicho in the chest and away from his range all in the blink of an eye.

The latter groaned as he was sent flying into the air.

Skidding against the metallic pipework before striking the walls with a loud BANG!

The metals rang in his ear.

Vertigo played tricks with his balance before he made himself stable.

Nicho breathed in once. Heavy with presence and a raw form of understanding.

His gaze blurred while he stared at the floor. Blood trickling to the metallic surface with a loud click.

It reached his eyes, falling down the lids and nearing the pupils.

Causing a crimson blur to his vision.

For a moment. He stayed.

His head reeled with information.

Then a footstep echoed and his body twitched.

He glanced up slowly. His eyes met Louis as the latter threw his odachi at his feet.

Crimson energy ravaging through his body.

Nicho gave it one glance and sighed.

"Murderous intent."

"Oh, you've heard of it?" Louis said with a smug look on his face.

He walked around his former captor. Watching. Observing.

All with the corner of his eye.

His body seemed to be in the moment, but his thoughts were long gone.

Only images of Mariam flashed in them.

Awaiting the brilliant sound of her voice. Her call.

The longing increased.

"Why wouldn't I?" Nicho pressed. "Who wouldn't be aware of the energy of the infamous La Teuer household?"

Louis scoffed. A subtle chuckle in the mix.

"If you did, then you would have known your fate the minute Mana and Miasma stopped working."

Right at the corner of the large opening. He stopped.

Behind him was a deep chasm. One built with no purpose other than to link itself with millions of other pipes.

Its purpose now may have been different.

After all, Territorial Spaces of all kinds were made out of mana. There was no telling what kind of damage a Mana reflux would cause to it.

"You will die by my hands. Just like the rest." Louis continued. His crimson eyes were glowing with a bitter shade of red. "Without knowing how I did it. Or what did it."

He took a pause, then continued. "Though, you would know who did since you see me now…but, even that…"

His gaze narrowed at it.

"...will be gone by the time you reach the afterlife."

A deadly silence hung in the air.

Palpable as it was suffocating.

The tide seemed to have been turned. Completely. Overwhelmingly.

To the point that Nicho considered escape.

But the Rhakar of the North couldn't do that.

Not in the slightest.

Escape was for the weak.

'And I am no longer weak.'

Though, now it was a lot different.

'I didn't put a situation like this into consideration.' He thought to himself as he stood straight.

He cracked his neck to the right. Then to the left.

"Well, you're right about one thing."

Nicho grabbed his odachi tightly. Firmer.

His veins bulged out. Taunt with form.

Muscles tensed. Tendons clamped.

"Oh?" Louis muttered under his breath.

A calm demeanour exuded from his very being.

"Which is?"

They stood staring at one another. A second passed. Another. Then a few more.

A new scale. A new weight.

They sized themselves once more.

Like any veteran fighter should do before venturing into the embrace of battle.

"By the time I'm done," Nicho muttered. Adjusting his posture. His stance.

Time lingered.

"You wouldn't know what hit you."

CLANG!

******

Ciara launched forward, her focus razor–sharp, feet barely skimming the floors of the pipeway.

The world was a blur to her. Distractions skimmed off through a filter of need.

She led herself deliberately, with purpose.

Skimming through the openings and crevices of the metal walls and floors.

Stopping at junctures. Making a turn. Striving for the path she marked through her mind.

A path to find the Mermaid princess, Mariam.

Everything had led to the point.

With or without her consent, she had been pulled into this.

And she would finish it.

Because Ciara wasn't one to leave things half opened.

Just then, she made a sudden turn and stopped.

Thoughts reeled in as she looked around.

'Here?' Her tone, thin with concentration. 'No. Not here.'

She turned around. 'There.'

Movement instantly.

Siphoning her way upwards.

She jumped upwards through a narrow passageway.

Finding herself along a framework of iron.

Just like the rest of it.

There was no distinction or definite pathway, but her observation let her form one.

Five levels.

Ten different frameworks.

The manner of arrangement is different.

Each is placed or marked differently from the other levels.

They had faced the confrontation with Nicho at the beginning of the third level and somehow made it through it to the fourth during their battle.

The levels were counted ascendingly upwards.

Meaning the first and second levels existed above the area she was in a moment ago.

She put that into place. Arranged it. Fixed it.

Then with a click, she muttered.

"This must be the second level…"

Glancing farther away with a slow movement of her head.

She spotted an opening.

Distinctive from the others. Man–made.

It reeked of mana.

Not that she needed her mana to tell, but simply because of the reflux that hung dry around it.

A patchwork of static shifting like a glitch.

Her gaze narrowed as she moved.

Following a side platform, she manoeuvred her way through and stopped right at the open space.

She glanced at it for a moment.

Traced her fingers along the edges of the manhole before stepping in.

Her body froze. Her eyes flared, then they closed once more.

'There was a shield here…'

She glanced down.

Broken pieces of an orb lay waste on the sides.

Her body tensed at the sight, but she walked in anyway.

What she stepped into was a smaller pathway.

Considerably smaller compared to the other compartments.

It was tightened around the sides with magical lamps hung above it.

She stared at it for a moment.

Her brows knitted into something akin to curiosity.

She shook her head, turned to the side. Inspecting. Observing.

Signs lingered. Footprints. Smell, and better yet, mana reflux.

It hung stale in the air. Warping. Subtle but its presence couldn't be ignored.

'People were here….' She concluded as she turned around. '...gone now, though.'

The tension rose and her hair stood on end.

Goosebumps fluttered across her skin and her entire system pulsed with adrenaline.

She ignored it.

Stepping out of the manhole, she stopped. Froze.

A sound clicked in the air. Mechanical. Foreign. A clockwork of magic engineering.

It startled her, but she remained calm. Unphased.

Her expression grew dim as she felt the pressure in the air.

'....6..8…no…10.'

Masked figures stretched across the pipeline.

Some above. Some below.

A Lot more by her side.

It was nothing new.

Just the same set of people who had come for their neck a moment ago while she was asleep.

Yet, there was a stark difference here.

They held something. Something that stung with danger.

It pricked her skin as the metallic surface tapped the side of her face.

Reeked of engineering.

Her expression dimmed.

'Guns…' A sigh escaped her lips as she fully stepped out.

'They brought a gun in a Magic fight….'

She raised her hand slowly in the air.

'Smart.'