Days turned into weeks, and finally, the day of the live-combat assessnt arrived.
This past month had been incredibly fulfilling for Loya.
Every morning, after washing up and eating, he'd grab his mop and bucket for latrine duty, using his freezing ability to prank his fellow recruits—like freezing their stream mid-flight and watching them scramble in confusion. At noon, he'd grab lunch and debate nu options with Ms. S. Winning their sparring matches had earned him the privilege of dictating the nu, and Ms. S made sure he was well-fed.
His afternoons were spent enduring the philosophical and physical "combat training" of his instructor, who was an expert in both technique and... well, "philosophy." His evenings were dedicated to the "Little Plaza," where he sparred with Kuzan, researching the limits of ice manipulation—with Loya usually serving as the test subject for the latter's anti-frostbite research.
Loya's life was unexpectedly cozy.
"Tomorrow is the combat exam. You must place in the top three to enter the Elite Camp," Kuzan said, leaning against the wall with his eye mask pulled down.
Loya stopped his practice and, without warning, whipped a cone of ice at the Admiral. Kuzan tilted his head, dodging effortlessly, and was about to comnt when he suddenly vanished using Soru.
A split second later, a deafening explosion ripped through the wall where he had been standing, leaving a one-ter-deep crater.
Kuzan reappeared behind Loya with his hands raised. "Ara ara, wanting another beating? Ice Ball!" Five pillars of ice shot from his palms like lightning toward Loya's back.
"Ice-Make: Great Serpent!"
Loya didn't dodge. He slamd his hands together, and a mass of blue energy materialized behind him—perfectly intercepting Kuzan's trajectory. Kuzan didn't understand the move; it lacked physical substance, so how could it block his ice? He sneered and increased the speed of his attack. He knew Loya's constitution—the boy could survive a piercing wound without issue, and he expected the ice to freeze him, not shatter him.
But the situation shifted instantly.
As the ice pillars touched the blue energy, Kuzan felt his connection to them vanish. An inexplicable force disrupted his ice, seizing control of the pillars. A strange, eerie sensation crept back along the frozen projectiles toward his very body. A deep sense of crisis washed over him.
Kuzan imdiately severed his link to the ice and retreated. As he did, the pillars Loya's energy had "consud" morphed like liquid paint, taking the shape of a massive, semi-transparent serpent that lunged and crunched into the floor.
The serpent, infused with Loya's will, coiled around him, hissing with blue-white eyes. Loya turned, the blue markings on his body pulsing like a heartbeat. He grinned at Kuzan. "How's that, Kuzan-sensei? I developed this specifically to deal with you!"
He stroked the serpent's scales. "It's energy, not matter. Any shaped Logia attack—as long as it doesn't exceed its structural threshold—gets frozen and absorbed as fuel. And for your ice? I can take control of it and turn it against you. After all, the Ice Dragon is the master of frost."
"Ara ara, you really are a dangerous kid," Kuzan pushed his eye mask up, eyeing the serpent and the decimated wall. "Great Serpent, Ice Bombs... do you really dislike that much to develop moves specifically to counter ?"
"Humans progress under pressure. I don't have enemies in the recruit camp, so I had to create a hypothetical one. Kuzan-sensei, you were the obvious choice."
"Oh, that sounds perfectly logical." Kuzan yawned, looking at Loya without emotion. Though he appeared lazy, Loya knew better: Kuzan was annoyed.
Uh-oh... did I go too far?
Loya's answer ca a second later: Kuzan provided a "gift" to match. Even for soone as laid-back as Kuzan, being targeted by a student he'd personally trained was irritating. His response was an overwhelming, freezing barrage: Ice Age!
"Well, I'm off. Your technique is complete, so you'll pass the exam no problem. Once you join the Elite Camp, Zephyr-sensei will have every reason to teach you the Six Styles. Sleep well, Loya-kun~"
Kuzan threw his coat over his shoulder, waved without turning back, and vanished into the night, leaving Loya a frozen statue in the middle of a tiny, glacial plaza.
After Kuzan disappeared, a purple-clad figure appeared in the plaza. Zephyr tapped the frozen, porcelain-hard Loya, checked his vitals with Observation Haki, and nodded in relief. "Still alive... I should say, as expected of the 'Ice Dragon.' Being treated like this every day and coming out unscathed." Zephyr felt a mix of pity and admiration, but noted, "Kuzan clearly held back; the speed of the technique's activation was painfully slow. If he can't even dodge that, I need to fast-track his close-combat training."
Zephyr vanished using Soru, leaving Loya to bask in the moonlight.
The next day, under the bright sun, Loya finally thawed, sneezing violently and shivering.
"Seriously? Did he have to go that hard? An Ice Age? People die from that!" He looked at the sun and slapped his forehead. "Crap! I was supposed to be at the docks for the transport ship hours ago!"
He leaped into the air, skating on ice blades toward the harbor.
This past month had been a massive boon for his system.
Na: Christopher Loya
Energy Stage: Tier 2, Layer 5
Energy Points: 40/900
Magic Power: 8000/8000
Recovery Rate: 750/min
His magic power had nearly doubled. No longer did he have to penny-pinch his spells. His Dragon Body had reached a 20% threshold—a critical point that tripled his raw strength, which he'd spent days struggling to control. Combined with his improved ice armor, he could now shatter steel without even needing Haki.
But there was a catch: eating no longer granted him energy points, confirming his fears. Even worse, his "Dragon Force" usage during these spar sessions had spiked his internal gauge to 5%.
The power of his Dragon Slayer magic had soared, but it wasn't the kind of growth he had planned for. He was a mage in a world without teachers, forced to experint on himself, crossing the river by feeling the stones.
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