A Background Character's Path to Power-Chapter 208: Frost and Flame’s Finale

Zephyr, still slumped against the ruined wall with Baron Nusayel, watched, his breath catching in his throat despite the pain.

The colossal Mistborn, a titan of corrupted ice and mist, now faced the newcomer. For the first time since their brutal encounter began, the monster’s features, usually a mocking sneer or a roaring snarl, settled into something new: a genuinely serious expression, even a hint of fear in the depths of its swirling face.

What exactly is that thing? Is it stronger than this one?

Zephyr’s mind raced. The newcomer’s form — ethereal white with an ice-blue vortex for a head — bore a haunting resemblance to the Mistborn, yet stood apart in its own way.

SWOOSH-!

The new creature was the first to move.

Its crystalline wings, spread wide, flapped once with silent power, sending it hurtling forward at impossible speed. As it accelerated, icy human-like hands formed from its flowing robes, raising above its head.

From its outstretched palms, a massive sword began to quickly coalesce, growing in size until it was nearly as tall as the creature itself, gleaming with frigid malice. It looked poised to cut down the titan Mistborn with a single, devastating strike.

"GROOOOR-!"

The Mistborn roared, a sound of challenged supremacy that vibrated through the very ground. It reacted instantly, thick, jagged plates of blackish ice armor erupting across its body, reinforcing its colossal form.

At the same time, thousands of impossibly sharp ice spears, each long and needle-like, materialized in the air around it, all aimed directly at the winged creature.

Then, both attacked.

The winged one held its course, the enormous sword continuing to form, reaching its gargantuan proportions, while the icy spears, a blizzard of deadly projectiles, were already at it. They streaked through the air, their tips glinting with malicious intent.

Yet, under both Baron Nusayel and Zephyr’s astonished gazes, something impossible happened.

The frost spears reached their target — yet inches from the winged being, their crystalline forms dissolved. Lethal edges softened into delicate snowflakes, unraveling into weightless white dust that danced on the blizzard’s breath.

More followed, an entire barrage dissolving mid-flight, their deadly momentum dissipating like morning mist under sunlight.

The colossal Mistborn, its roar abruptly cut short, lunged forward with its massive claws, attempting to swipe at the ethereal figure. But the winged creature was already higher, effortlessly floating above its reach, its colossal sword now fully formed, thrumming with contained power.

The battlefield held its breath as the winged being raised its glacial sword high, the weapon humming with a sound like cracking ice.

Below, the titan Mistborn crossed its armored forearms, blackish ice surging to form a massive, jagged shield that gleamed like obsidian.

For one suspended moment, the world seemed to pause — snowflakes hanging motionless in the air, the howling wind gone silent — as if reality itself awaited the impact.

Then—

The sword fell.

A sound like a mountain splitting echoed across the Keep as the blade met the shield.

The collision sent out a shockwave that shattered nearby ruined buildings, sending stone and ice flying. The titan Mistborn’s knees buckled under the force, its shield cracking down the middle.

The winged creature pressed down, its vortex-like "face" pulsing brighter, the sword’s edge biting deeper into the shield. The Mistborn snarled, its form trembling as it fought to hold its ground, the ice beneath its feet fracturing under the strain.

A second strike.

Faster than sight, the sword lifted and fell again, this time at a different angle. The shield, already weakened, splintered apart in an explosion of black ice shards. The Mistborn staggered back, its massive form unbalanced, its chest now exposed—

And the winged being did not hesitate.

With a final, graceful arc, the sword cleaved downward—

—the titan’s roar turned into a choked gasp as the blade found its mark.

The glacial sword’s descent was absolute. The blade sheared through the titan’s core, splitting the monstrous form cleanly in two from shoulder to hip. The bisected halves teetered and collapsed, the lower portion dissolving into a swirling blizzard of harmless snow.

The head remained, clinging to the remaining upper torso, black ice bubbled and reformed, sculpting a new body. The abomination snarled, its once-colossal frame now barely half its original size.

Bzzzt. Bzzzt.

Zephyr’s wrist vibrated violently. His communication bracelet glowed with an incoming signal from the Guards’ Captain. He whirled toward the Baron, only to find the man already standing, wreathed in coronas of red-hot flame.

The inferno licked across his armor, the enchanted metal glowing cherry-red but holding strong, runes along its surface flaring to life as they channeled the impossible heat.

Their eyes met.

A single nod.

Then the Baron launched himself toward the battle, leaving molten footprints in the ice.

Zephyr’s focus returned to the scene, noticing the winged being observing the shrinking Mistborn coldly. Its sword had already become a trident of glistening frost, its prongs humming with restrained power.

One fluid motion, one release.

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The weapon impaled the creature through its newly formed chest, pinning it to the frozen earth like a specimen. The Mistborn thrashed, but the trident’s shafts sprouted ice chains that anchored deep into the ground.

Then, fire rained from above.

The Baron descended like a meteor, his spear a comet’s tail of annihilation.

The impact sent superheated winds screaming outward as the weapon found its mark, drilling through the trident’s center point, all the way to Mistborn’s head.

The Mistborn’s form blackened, its once-primal presence fracturing like glass under a hammer.

Cracks spread like spiderwebs across its frozen flesh, and for a fleeting moment, the swirling darkness in its eyes stilled, revealing something almost human beneath.

It let out a final, guttural shriek, not of rage, but of release, as if some long-trapped soul had finally broken free. Then it burst apart, its essence dissolving into steam that curled upward, vanishing into the storm’s maw like a sigh swallowed by the wind.

"..."

Silence descended.

The winged creature hovered motionless as the Baron landed in a crouch, his flames dying to embers.

"..."

They locked gazes across the smoldering battlefield - one hovering in ethereal silence, the other kneeling with his spear still glowing white-hot.

Baron Nusayel’s fingers trembled around the shaft, every rune on his plating flickering erratically as the borrowed power threatened to shatter its vessel.

Then, without warning, the creature turned away. Its crystalline wings spread wide as it ascended, the vortex of its face giving no indication of thought or emotion.

In three wingbeats, it had vanished into the storm’s ceiling, leaving only drifting snowflakes where it had been.

"It... ended..."

The Baron exhaled, a shuddering, bone-deep release, as the flames snuffed out. His armor went dark, the runes fading to scars in the metal. Then his body folded forward, armor clanking like a broken bell, as if the last thread holding him to consciousness had snapped.

Zephyr blurred into motion.

His Void Steps carried him across the battlefield in an instant, arms outstretched just as Nusayel collapsed.

Baron’s weight nearly buckled his knees. Through his gloves, Zephyr could feel the terrifying heat still radiating from the armor, and the weaker, far more alarming pulse beneath it.

Not good!

With a slash of his free hand, Zephyr tore open a portal, his veins screaming as the rift splintered the air like fractured ice. Gritting his teeth, he hauled Nusayel’s limp form forward, the Baron’s armor searing his shoulder even through layers of cloth.

As he tumbled through, the portal snapped shut behind them, severing the storm’s howl like a guillotine’s drop.

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