NOVEL NEXT Chapter 1175: World of Ice
But the trial was not yet over.
The air around him shifted again. The red hue of the flames began to fade, replaced by a pale blue glow. The molten ground beneath his feet hardened, freezing in an instant. Steam turned to snowflakes that drifted gently from the air, and the burning sky transformed into a vast expanse of shimmering white. The transition was seamless, as if the world itself had turned over a new page.
Within seconds, the battlefield had become an entirely different realm. The land stretched endlessly under a blanket of ice, reflecting light in brilliant shades of azure and silver. The air grew heavy and cold, so cold that even breath turned into solid frost before falling to the ground. The silence here was absolute.
Max exhaled slowly, his breath turning into a trail of ice crystals. "So this is the world of ice," he said quietly. His gaze swept across the frozen landscape. "It looks peaceful… but I doubt it will stay that way for long."
He closed his eyes for a moment, allowing the energy of the realm to seep into his senses. The cold here wasn't just an element. It was alive. It carried emotion—calm, still, and infinitely patient. The world itself was waiting for him to act.
Then he opened his eyes again, sharp and clear. "Let's see what the second trial truly has to offer."
Max walked across the frozen plain, his boots crunching softly against the translucent ice. Every step echoed faintly, the sound carrying far in the silent, endless expanse. The world was serene yet suffocating—too still, too perfect, like a realm that existed outside of life itself.
Frost-covered mountains floated in the distance, suspended in midair like frozen memories, their peaks reflecting the pale light of the sky.
He stopped after a while and looked around, his gaze steady. Nothing moved. There were no enemies, no flames, no guardians—only an unbroken stillness stretching infinitely in every direction. The entire battlefield that had once burned with chaos was now locked in absolute silence.
'Strange,' he thought quietly. 'The trial isn't attacking me anymore.'
He lowered himself to one knee and touched the ground. The ice was cold—colder than anything he had felt before—but not in the way of pain or discomfort. It was pure, clean, and stable.
There was no chaos in it, no turbulence like the flames from before. It was the opposite of destruction—it was control.
As his hand lingered on the frozen surface, he felt a faint pulse travel upward through his arm. It wasn't energy in the usual sense. It was a whisper, a memory, an emotion that belonged to the world itself.
Max's eyes widened slightly. "I see," he muttered.
It wasn't a battlefield anymore. It was a domain—a domain designed not to test his strength, but his understanding. The entire frozen landscape was an embodiment of the Concept of Ice, and its silence was a challenge in itself. The trial wanted him to comprehend what this cold represented.
He rose to his feet, his expression thoughtful. "So this is the real meaning of the second part," he said quietly. "The first trial tested my control over flames, the power of destruction and hunger. This one…" He looked around slowly. "...is about restraint, patience, and stillness. It's about understanding the world that stands opposite to fire."
His breath came out as a cloud of frost. He extended his hand again, feeling the cold air settle between his fingers. The icy mist danced lightly around his palm before dispersing into the air. "To pass this trial, I need to do the same as before," he said, his tone calm and measured. "I have to comprehend the Concept of Ice... all the way to the fourth level."
He closed his eyes, letting the thought sink in fully. "The first part of the trial led me to the Devouring Flame Essence. This place must hold its counterpart—the Stillness of Frost. If the first trial represented unending motion and hunger, this one must represent eternal quiet and balance."
He looked around the world again, realizing the truth hidden within its silence. The test wasn't about fighting at all. It wasn't about killing or power. It was about learning to listen—to understand the meaning of stillness and the cold's place in the balance of existence.
A faint smile touched his lips. "So that's how it is."
He exhaled deeply, his breath freezing midair. "The Valley of Frozen Ash wasn't just a mixture of flame and ice—it was a warning. To truly control both, I have to understand both extremes. Only then can I find the unity that the inheritance seeks."
The realization filled him with calm determination. He sat down slowly, crossing his legs on the icy ground. The cold seeped into his body, wrapping him in a numb, tranquil embrace. His heartbeat slowed, his breathing steadied. His energy, which had burned fiercely through the previous trial, now dimmed to a faint, steady rhythm.
'So this is what the trial demands,' he thought silently. 'To let go of movement, of passion, of noise—and to embrace stillness. To find clarity not in flame, but in frost.'
The ice beneath him pulsed faintly in response, and thin lines of light spread outward from where he sat, stretching across the plain. The air grew colder, but also clearer, and the silence deepened until even his thoughts seemed to echo softly inside his mind.
The world of ice was quiet. Too quiet. The silence was so deep that even the faint sound of his heartbeat seemed out of place. Max sat cross-legged on the glacial plain, the endless frost reflecting his still form like a mirror. There was no warmth here, no trace of motion, no whisper of life. The air itself seemed frozen in time.
At first, he thought he could adapt easily. After all, he had already comprehended the concept of flames to its fourth level. He knew the nature of elements, their patterns, their rhythm. But as the minutes turned into hours, Max realized just how wrong that assumption was.