The Forsaken Heir's Ascension
Chapter 122: Ice and Fire: Riven and Lyra’s Synchronized Storm

Chapter 122: Ice and Fire: Riven and Lyra’s Synchronized Storm

Earlier — on the Defenders’ side...

Kaelan approached his team with quiet confidence.

He gave a small nod to his Vice Captain—the former leader—who returned the gesture in silence.

Without another word, they formed a tight huddle.

Kaelan looked at each of them with a composed expression.

His voice was steady, almost emotionless.

"We lost the toss... but we’ll win this."

The team responded in unison, their eyes filled with resolve:

"Yes, Captain."

Kaelan nodded.

"Strategy," he continued.

"The arena is split—Frost Zone in the first half, Lava Zone in the second."

He paused, waiting for a reaction.

There was none.

Disciplined. Focused. Ready.

Kaelan continued without changing tone:

"I’ll take the final column as Anchor.

Vice Captain, you’ll take the first column.

Our Trappers will be stationed at the third and sixth columns."

The team nodded again.

No more words were needed.

They broke the huddle, each member moving into formation like trained soldiers, taking their positions in the defensive columns.

—

Across the field, the Veylor Club entered with synchronized steps.

They lined up opposite the columns, standing tall and confident—like warriors poised to break through any wall.

Riven stood among them, body relaxed, twin daggers resting in his hands.

His eyes glowed faintly as he scanned the defenders ahead.

Lyra stood a few columns away from him.

Though she stole glances in Riven’s direction, her blue eyes burned now with clarity and resolve.

She took a deep breath...

and turned away.

Whistle blew.

30:00

The crowd fell silent—

anticipation thick in the air, like the calm before a storm.

Another whistle.

29:59

In an instant, the entire battle arena transformed.

One half was consumed by howling frost—ice crystals formed along the black columns, wind howled like ancient spirits.

The other half ignited into blazing lava—molten cracks snaked across the stone, heat rising in shimmering waves.

Fire and Ice, side by side.

Two sisters.

One raged with furious flames,

The other whispered in freezing winds.

Lyra moved like the wind.

Sliding across the frost-covered ground, she reached the first column just as a fireball came hurtling through the snowstorm.

She dodged sideways.

Boom!

Ssssss!

The fireball slammed into the frozen earth, erupting into a cloud of steam that curled into the sky like smoke.

Straightening up, Lyra narrowed her eyes at the defender ahead—

but before she could press forward, Aslan struck from the side.

Clang! Clang!

His dual short swords clashed against the defender’s weapon, forcing him back with relentless force.

The defender staggered.

Lyra smirked, crouched low, and lunged into the opening Aslan had created.

Snow whirled around her, the ground a blur beneath her feet.

A transparent layer of water wrapped around her shoes, helping her glide effortlessly like a skater across the storm.

She passed into the second column, stopping in a sharp sideways skid.

Her boots carved clean lines into the snow.

Blue eyes sharp, she drew a dagger.

The storm above bellowed, wind shrieking across the battlefield.

The cold nipped at her cheeks, turned the tip of her nose red.

She shuddered—but her steps remained silent.

Like a snow panther, she crept forward.

Nearing the edge of the second column, she caught the faint shadow of a figure moving ahead.

She crouched low, focused her energy—

and water-elemental energy swirled around her dagger like a current wrapping a blade.

She threw.

Swoosh!

The dagger sliced through the snowstorm—

Squelch!

"Arghhh!"

A piercing scream tore through the wind.

She tugged at the water tether—

and the dagger snapped back to her hand like it was pulled by a whip.

Another scream followed as it wrenched free from flesh.

The Umpire’s voice echoed across the stadium:

"1 - Defender incapacitated."

Lyra grinned.

She turned and launched forward again, sliding through the snow toward the third column.

Boom!

It felt like a mountain dropped onto her back—

Lyra was slammed into the ice, buried up to her waist.

She grunted and tried to move sideways, circulating her water elemental energy, but the crushing pressure barely lifted.

Her teeth clenched.

She strained harder, forcing her body upward.

The pressure intensified.

Like the storm itself was pushing back.

Then—

suddenly—

everything vanished.

The weight disappeared as if it had never been there.

A faint purple glow shimmered around her body—

a shield, pulsing with quiet power.

She blinked in surprise and looked up.

Her eyes landed on Riven.

For a second, her blue eyes fluttered, caught off guard.

Then came his calm voice—like a breeze in the storm:

"Are you okay?"

Lyra exhaled and nodded.

"Yes, I am."

No other words were needed.

They stepped forward—in perfect synch, their footfalls matching.

Riven took the lead.

His broad back and messy dark hair came into view through the snow.

Lyra stared for a heartbeat too long, and something stirred in her chest.

A small smile tugged at her lips.

Riven moved like a shadow through the storm.

In one fluid strike, he slashed across the third column defender’s side.

"Arghhh!"

The cry was lost in the storm as the enemy crumpled.

Without looking back,

they moved on—side by side,

cutting through the swirling snow, the cold air, and the frozen ground beneath them.

As they entered the sixth column zone, a wave of searing heat slammed into them.

Hot air scorched their skin.

Lava flowed across the ground in glowing rivers, leaving only narrow stone platforms jutting out like stepping stones across a molten sea.

They leapt onto the stones.

Sssss—

Steam hissed as their soles met the blistering surface.

Lyra jumped at the same time as Riven, landing on the same stone.

Clack!

One foot each found a place—

but there wasn’t enough room for the other.

They stumbled, off-balance.

Without thinking, Riven caught her hand and yanked her toward him.

His arm wrapped around her waist—

her feet landed on top of his.

Their faces were inches apart, noses nearly touching.

Lyra’s breath hitched.

Her chest rose and fell, pressing lightly against Riven’s.

A blush spread across her cheeks.

She turned her face away—desperate to avoid those damn violet eyes she loved too much.

"Ahem."

Riven cleared his throat, trying to act normal, but his gaze lingered on the girl now pressed against his chest.

Lyra looked up.

Their eyes met.

For a fleeting second, they forgot the world around them—

forgot the lava, the battlefield, the roaring crowd.

The moment shattered as a crushing mountain of pressure dropped on their shoulders.

They staggered, knees bending, wobbling on the tiny stone surrounded by death.

Sweat dripped from Riven’s brow, hissing as it hit the rock.

Ssssss.

With a burst of aura, he formed a purple, umbrella-like shield above them.

The pressure vanished.

He stood tall, still holding Lyra tight to his chest, his arms steady.

His violet eyes glowed, scanning the lava zone like a silent guardian.

He spotted the defender—

standing leisurely above the lava, like a man watching a play.

Not a single bead of sweat on his brow.

The heat didn’t faze him...

Riven’s violet eyes glowed ominously.

He tried to blink—

but he couldn’t.

The space wouldn’t yield.

It was locked—stable and unmovable, like a sealed gate.

The defender smirked, clearly aware of what Riven had attempted.

Riven clenched his fist.

Then... he froze.

He looked down.

Lyra’s blue eyes were closed, her face buried in his chest, her fingers wrapped around his hand.

He felt it—

her touch.

Soft. Delicate. Slightly warmer than his own, comforting like the warmth of morning sun slipping through cold windows.

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