The leviathan rose again, its massive frame shuddering in an irritated motion.

It lifted its head, eyes blazing, and roared.

“BWOOOOOOOOOOOAAARRR!!”

The remaining civilians stumbled, covering their ears in fear. Even the Academy students felt their bodies tense in the face of the colossal threat.

From the direction of the ancient tree, another wave of ice streaked across the sky. 

The leviathan answered with fire. A torrent of flame blasted forward from its throat, swallowing the incoming barrage.

But the shards did not melt. Their internal temperature held, and they slammed into the leviathan again.

The monster wailed, making a sound filled with both rage and pain. It could not comprehend the idea of being hurt by something so small.

Yet, it did not fall.

The impacts were punishing, but the distance stole the finishing blow. No matter how powerful Frost’s Resonance was or how precise his control was, physics still applied. 

And Frost knew that.

For a moment, his senses flickered away from the leviathan, unable to ignore the presence on the distant rooftop.

Then, his gaze hardened, snapping back to the monster. A thought as sharp as ice cut through his mind.

No one touches him.

Frost stopped wasting force on spectacle and focused on target precision.

His hand extended, palm open toward the leviathan as if he were reaching for its heart. His eyes glowed faintly, and the air around him tensed further.

On the other end—

The leviathan started thrashing. Its internal molecules were slowing involuntarily, body freezing from the inside out as thermal energy bled away. It could feel its movement growing heavier by the second. 

The monster resisted violently. 

Its tail slammed into the river, arms raking through the air. It rammed forward, roaring furiously as it crushed a few standing buildings.

At this range, the freeze was not fast enough to lock it.

The Academy instructors, though bruised and battered, recognized the opening. They didn’t know who was subduing the monster, but they didn’t question it.

One of the instructors used her Earth Resonance to form barriers. Another conjured giant steel beams to pin the serpent. Others used their powers to form layers of shields and domes.

They just had to buy time, and every second mattered.

Greyson watched the chaos and struggle unfolding right before him.

His grip on the clockhand blades tightened until the metal bit into flesh, grounding him in pain and purpose. His eyes sharpened into clear resolve.

He inhaled deeply.

Then, his Resonance activated again. Acceleration pushed his body beyond the normal threshold, turning his every movement into something dangerous.

Greyson’s body blurred as he charged, the air cracking under pressure. His blades began to vibrate, humming, as they too had their molecules accelerated.

He reached the leviathan in a blink. 

A silver arc flashed.

“SKRRAAAAAAAOOOOOOOHHHHHHH!!”

The leviathan roared, body jerking in pain.

The cut was not deep enough to cleave it apart, but its resistance to Frost’s freeze faltered slightly.

Greyson moved again, faster and faster. He danced along the monster’s massive frame. His blades struck again and again, carving openings for warmth to escape.

The leviathan wailed, unable to keep up with his movement.

Nightwings gathered to aid their master, swarming around and targeting Greyson. 

They dove.

Greyson spun, cutting two down Nightwings mid-flight, twisting away from a third. Without stopping, he continued to weaken the leviathan as he dealt with the mobs.

But one came too close, too sudden. Greyson didn’t see it coming.

Claws reached for his throat—

SHK! 

An ice shard pierced the winged monster cleanly through the skull, and it dropped lifelessly.

Another monster veered in—

A second shard took it.

Another tried.

SHK! 

Even while freezing the leviathan, Frost still watched Greyson, protecting him.

And Greyson felt every bit of the protection.

He gritted his teeth as strain began to creep into his limbs, but he didn’t stop.

He would not allow Frost to do this alone.

Greyson pushed harder and charged. He struck the leviathan again, opening more lines across its scales.

From the ancient tree— 

Frost’s hand stayed extended, fingers tensed.

The distance still proved too much for a clean freeze despite the monster having been weakened. So, Frost decided to break it apart.

His eyes narrowed, focus shifting to a single limb—the leviathan’s left arm. He tightened his control, fingers curling.

Almost instantly, the serpent’s limb whitened from a rapid bloom of frostbite, ice crystals piercing its internal tissue. 

The leviathan jerked as its arm suddenly failed.

Greyson noticed immediately and approached it in a flash. He gathered all the strength into his right arm, and the minute-hand blade sang in a silver arc.

Shhk.

A clean cut.

The frozen limb came right off.

For a second, it didn’t even look real. The massive arm was severed, spinning through the air in slow motion like time itself had allowed the space to breathe.

THOOOOM!

The limb crashed down.

The leviathan wailed in agony, realization finally dawning as panic set in. It had resisted Frost’s freeze and endured countless assaults from Greyson… But losing an arm wasn’t damage anymore. It was proof that it could be dismantled… that it could die.

The leviathan’s instincts shifted from domination to survival, turning to scurry back into the river, dragging its partly frozen body with desperate violence.

Frost felt its fear and internal resistance faltering. His gaze sharpened. Fingers closed in. 

The leviathan froze faster than before, its internal heat vanishing. Muscles locking, scales glazing. The monster started to stiffen in place, struggling to break free from its own body.

Greyson saw his chance. He flashed forward again, blades humming from intense vibration. 

The second strike landed, another clean cut.

The leviathan’s right arm flew away, crashing down into the ice-choked riverbank.

It roared again, but the sound was much weaker, almost broken. With its arms gone and body about to freeze whole, the monster was on the verge of accepting its fate.

Greyson raised his blades again, ready to finish it.

Just one more strike.

But—

Thump! 

It hit him all at once.

Thump!! 

The strain, the unnatural demand he’d placed on muscle and bone and blood.

Thump!!!

His knees buckled, arms trembling. His hands shook so violently his blades were slipping, vision blurring at the edges.

Greyson tried to inhale, but his lungs burned. He tried to stand, but his muscles spasmed. A helpless sound left his throat, and he dropped to one knee.

Then both.

His blades scraped against the frozen ground. 

Across the battlefield, Frost felt it clearly. His eyes widened, control faltering.

His voice cut through the distance.

“Grey—!”

And that fraction of a second was all the leviathan needed. The ice on its body cracked, muscles finally obeying.

The instructors surged forward, trying to pin it down.

But the serpent was not thinking anymore. It ran for its life, slamming itself into whatever in its way with brute desperation until it reached the river.

And then, it was gone.

The battlefield fell into a ragged silence.

At the side—

Greyson’s knees gave way completely. He fell forward, collapsing onto the frozen ground. 

Far away—

Frost was running, gasping in desperation.

He didn’t care about the escaped leviathan. He didn’t care about the people or the damage done to the city.

All that mattered was the boy who had collapsed under the night sky. 

Grey… Grey…

And he was still so far away.