Sillad landed without a sound.
The Monarch of Frost was tall, his form lean and angular. His skin was pale blue, his hair long and silver, cascading over his shoulders like frozen water. His eyes were blank white...empty, ancient, utterly without mercy. He wore a ragged white cloak over a tattered shirt, and the air around him crackled with cold so intense that frost formed on the grass at his feet.
"A Pallum," Sillad said, his voice soft, almost curious. "I have not seen one of your kind in centuries. I had assumed your race had died out."
Finn's grip tightened on his spear. "We are harder to kill than that."
Sillad's lips curved into a faint, cruel smile. "So I see. And yet, here you stand...alone...facing a Monarch. Tell me, little Pallum... where is your Shadow Monarch? Where is the one who sent you to die?"
"I am not here to die," Finn replied, his voice steady. "I am here to stop you."
Sillad laughed...a quiet, chilling sound. "Bold words for a creature barely taller than my knee." He raised his hand, and ice crystallized in the air around his fingers. "I will give you one chance. Tell me where the Shadow Monarch is, and I will let you live. I will even let you serve me. Your kind is good for servitude, after all."
Finn's eyes narrowed. "I serve only one King. And you are not him."
Sillad's smile vanished. "So be it."
The battle began.
Finn attacked first.
His spear shot forward like a bolt of lightning, aimed directly at Sillad's heart. The Monarch did not move. He simply raised his hand, and a wall of ice erupted from the ground, absorbing the strike. The spear skidded off the frozen barrier, leaving nothing but a shallow scratch.
Finn spun, his momentum carrying him into a second strike...low, aimed at Sillad's legs. The Monarch leaped, his movements effortless, and landed behind Finn. A blade of ice formed in his hand, and he swung.
Finn blocked.
The impact sent shockwaves rippling through the air. Finn's arms trembled under the force, his feet carving trenches into the earth. He gritted his teeth and pushed back, forcing Sillad to retreat a single step.
"Impressive," Sillad admitted. "You are stronger than you look. But strength alone will not save you."
He raised his hand, and the air around them grew impossibly cold. Finn's breath crystallized in front of his face. Ice began to form on his armor, his skin, his weapons. He shook it off, but more formed instantly.
"Frost magic," Sillad said, almost conversationally. "I can freeze the very air around you. I can stop your blood in your veins. I can turn your lungs to ice." He tilted his head. "You are already dead, little Pallum. You simply have not realized it yet."
Finn activated Hell Finegas.
The magic surged through him, a burning tide of power that pushed back the cold. His muscles swelled. His vision sharpened. His heart pounded in his chest like a war drum.
He lunged.
His spear carved a path of destruction through the air, each strike faster and more powerful than the last. Sillad's eyes widened slightly—he had not expected such a sudden increase in power. He raised his arms to block, but Finn's spear found its mark, slicing across the Monarch's chest.
A thin line of blue blood appeared.
Sillad looked down at the wound, then back at Finn. His smile returned, colder than before. "You drew blood. That is... surprising."
Finn pressed his advantage.
His spear became a blur of motion...thrusting, slashing, spinning. He drove Sillad back, each strike forcing the Monarch to retreat. The ice wall shattered. The frost evaporated. For a moment, it seemed as though Finn might actually win.
But Sillad was a Monarch.
He raised his hand, and the temperature plummeted. A wave of ice erupted from the ground, sweeping toward Finn like a frozen tide. Finn leaped over it, but the cold was already seeping into his bones. His movements slowed. His breath came in ragged gasps.
"You fight well," Sillad said, his voice almost admiring. "But you are still a Pallum. Still small. Still weak. Your race was never meant for greatness. You were meant to serve."
Finn's jaw tightened. "You know nothing of my race."
"I know enough." Sillad's smile widened. "I have seen your kind before. Cowering. Begging. Dying in droves. You are not warriors. You are not heroes. You are..."
He stopped.
Finn's spear was buried in his shoulder.
Sillad stared at the weapon protruding from his flesh, then back at Finn. His expression shifted...surprise, then anger, then cold, cold fury.
"You dare," he hissed.
He ripped the spear from his shoulder and snapped it in half.
Finn's eyes widened. His weapon...his Fortia...lay shattered on the ground. He scrambled for it, but Sillad was already moving. The Monarch's hand closed around Finn's throat, lifting him off the ground.
"You are a fool," Sillad said, his voice flat. "A noble fool, perhaps, but a fool nonetheless."
Finn struggled, his hands clawing at Sillad's grip. But the Monarch's strength was overwhelming. He could feel the life draining from him, the cold seeping into his veins.
"You wanted to protect your King," Sillad continued. "You wanted to prove that your race was worthy of respect. Instead, you will die here....alone, forgotten, nothing more than a footnote in the history of a world that will soon be remade."
Finn's vision blurred. His body grew heavy. The cold was everywhere, swallowing him whole.
Sillad raised his free hand. A spear of ice formed in his grip....long, sharp, identical to the one he had broken.
"Goodbye, little Pallum."
He drove the spear through Finn's heart.
Finn hit the ground.
His body lay broken, his blood pooling around him. The ice spear protruded from his chest, its edges glistening with frost. His eyes were open, staring at the sky above.
Sillad stood over him, his expression unreadable.
"For a Pallum.....You fought well" he said quietly. "It was not enough.....But indeed....You fought well"
He turned and walked away, leaving Finn's body behind.
.
A golden light descended from the heavens.
It was warm, radiant, filled with a power that seemed to push back the cold itself. Sillad stopped, his eyes narrowing, as the light coalesced into a figure standing over Finn's body.
A woman.
She was a Pallum, but taller than any Pallum should be. Her hair was long and golden, her eyes warm with ancient wisdom. She wore armor of white and gold, and in her hand, she carried a spear that gleamed like sunlight.
She knelt beside Finn, her hand resting on his chest.
"Rise, my Knight," she said, her voice soft but carrying the weight of ages. "Rise, my beautiful Pallum. Show them all the bravery of a Pallum. The power of courage in you. My child... Rise, Braver."
She leaned down and pressed her lips to his forehead.
Then she was gone.
The light faded, but something else remained. Finn's body began to glow....a soft, golden radiance that pulsed with warmth. The ice spear in his chest melted, the wound sealing itself. His hair grew longer, flowing down his back. His body grew taller, his frame filling out with new strength. When he opened his eyes, they were no longer blue.
They were golden white.
He rose to his feet, his new height of 150 centimeters making him look almost like a different person. His spear...the same Fortia that had been shattered...reformed in his hand, its blade now gleaming with white and gold.
He raised his spear and pointed it at Sillad.
The Monarch turned, his eyes widening with something that might have been surprise. "What... what are you?"
Finn's voice was calm, steady. "I am Finn. Knight of Fianna. And I am going to kill you."
Sillad laughed....a desperate, uncertain sound. "You are still a Pallum. Still small. Still weak. Nothing has changed."
Finn smiled. "You are wrong."
He attacked.
The battle was different now.
Finn moved faster than Sillad could track. His spear became a blur of golden light, each strike carrying the weight of centuries of hope and determination. He drove Sillad back, his attacks relentless, unstoppable.
Sillad raised a wall of ice. Finn shattered it with a single blow.
Sillad summoned a storm of frost. Finn cut through it with a sweep of his spear.
Sillad created a spear of ice and lunged. Finn caught it, snapped it in half, and drove his own weapon through the Monarch's shoulder.
Sillad screamed.
"You cannot.." he gasped, his eyes wide with disbelief. "You cannot defeat me. I am a Monarch. I am..."
"You are nothing," Finn said, his voice cold. "You are a bully who thought he could crush the weak. But I am not weak. My people are not weak. We never were."
He raised his spear, and water began to gather around its blade. It swirled and twisted, forming a spiraling vortex of power that crackled with golden light.
"Mac an Luin"
The attack shot forward like a beam of pure energy, carving through the air with impossible speed. Sillad raised his hands, attempting to freeze it....He couldn't....That water...Was special...He who could freeze all forms of water...couldn't....He created an ice wall instead
The ice shattered.
The beam pierced his heart, punching through his chest like a spear of light.
Sillad staggered, his eyes wide with shock. He looked down at the hole in his chest, then back at Finn. His mouth opened, but no words came out.
He fell.
His body hit the ground, the frost fading from his form. The Monarch of Frost was dead.
Finn stood over the body, his spear planted in the ground beside him. He raised his hand in a warrior's salute...a gesture of respect for a worthy opponent, even one who had been his enemy.
He had done it. He had achieved his dream. He had become the Knight of Fianna, the hero of the Pallum race.
He turned and walked away
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