Death Guns In Another World

Chapter 2100: Harsh Training

The training room was quiet again. Twenty more constructs lay shattered on the ice floor. Maria stood in the center, her chest heaving, her white hair clinging to her damp face. Her arms ached. Her legs trembled. Every muscle in her body screamed for rest.

She ignored them all.

The wounds on her arms were already closing. Super regeneration working its slow magic. But the deeper wounds, the ones no one could see, those remained open and bleeding.

She dismissed her daggers and walked to the control panel on the wall. Her finger hovered over the button that would summon another wave.

One more, she told herself. Just one more.

But even she knew when her body had reached its limit. Her hand dropped to her side.

"Enough," she whispered to the empty room.

The runes on the walls dimmed. The blue torches flickered. The training room acknowledged her surrender.

She turned and walked out.

The corridors of the White Castle were empty at this hour. Most of the court were asleep, tucked away in their warm beds behind thick stone walls. The servants moved in the early morning hours, not the dead of night.

Maria's bare feet made no sound on the cold stone floors. She walked like a ghost through her own home, passing tapestries of ancient queens and paintings of frozen battles. Her reflection slid across polished ice mirrors as she passed—a pale woman in white, her ice-blue eyes staring straight ahead.

She did not look at herself. She did not want to see what looked back.

The bath chamber was at the end of the longest hall. It was a privilege of her station, a private space reserved only for the royal family. Maria pushed open the heavy door and stepped inside.

The room was beautiful. Walls of pale blue stone. A ceiling painted with scenes of winter gods and ice maidens. In the center, a pool of water waited, fed by an underground spring that ran beneath the castle.

The water was cold. Always cold. It was said the spring was blessed by the Ice Goddess herself, its waters touched by divine frost. For anyone else, it would be unbearable. For Maria, it was home.

She crossed to a wooden bench and began to undress. Her training clothes were soaked through with sweat and blood. She pulled off the shirt, wincing as the fabric pulled at her half-healed wounds. The pants followed. She stood naked in the cold air, her pale skin covered in a fine sheen of sweat and the pale lines of old scars.

She looked down at herself. At the body that had fought so hard for so long.

Would he still want me? The thought came unbidden, unwanted. Would he still find me beautiful?

She shook her head. Stupid thoughts. Weak thoughts.

But they would not leave.

She stepped to the edge of the pool and lowered herself into the water.

The cold hit her like a wall. For anyone else, it would have stolen their breath, stopped their heart. For Maria, it was a gentle embrace. The water welcomed her, wrapping around her tired body like a lover's arms.

She sank deeper until the water covered her shoulders, her neck, her chin. She closed her eyes and let herself float.

The silence of the bath was absolute. No wind. No sounds from the castle. Just the gentle lapping of water against stone and the soft rhythm of her own breathing.

For a long time, Maria simply floated. Letting the cold seep into her bones. Letting it numb the ache in her muscles and the ache in her heart.

But the cold could not numb everything.

His face appeared behind her closed eyes. Alex. Smiling at her in that way he had. Like she was the only woman in the world. Like nothing else mattered.

She remembered the first time he touched her. How his hand had been so warm against her cold skin. How she had flinched, not from pain, but from the shock of feeling something other than ice.

She remembered the first time he kissed her. How her heart had raced, a thing she thought long dead inside her chest. How she had pulled away, afraid of what it meant. How he had simply waited, patient as the mountains, until she came back to him.

She remembered the last time she saw him. The chaos of the world door. The terror of being torn away. The scream that had died in her throat as everything went white.

And then nothing. Months of nothing.

I don't even know if you're alive.

The thought hit her like a physical blow. Her eyes flew open. Water splashed as she sat up, gasping.

She pressed her hand to her chest. Her heart pounded beneath her palm. Fast. Strong. Alive.

He's alive, she told herself fiercely. He has to be. I would know if he wasn't. I would feel it.

Would she? Could love really bridge the gap between worlds? Between realms?

She did not know. She chose to believe.

The water rippled around her as she moved to the edge of the pool. She sat on the submerged stone ledge, the water lapping at her waist. Her white hair floated around her like silk on the surface.

She looked at her hands. The hands that had killed so many. The hands that had held him so gently. They floated before her, pale and strong, scarred from years of battle.

What am I doing here?

The question had no answer. Or rather, it had too many answers. She was here because the Ice Empress had found her. Because her affinity with ice made her valuable. Because the kingdom needed her strength.

But none of those were reasons she had chosen. They were reasons that had been chosen for her.

She thought about leaving. Just walking out of the castle, out of the kingdom, and searching for him herself. She was strong enough. Fast enough. She could survive anything this frozen realm threw at her.

But the Empress had been kind to her. Had taken her in when she was broken and helpless. Had given her a home, a purpose, a family she never asked for but could not simply abandon.

And Gracier was out there, building her own empire of fire. Luna was out there, spreading her light. They were all playing the long game, gathering power, building strength. When Alex finally came, he would need allies. Armies. Kingdoms.

Not just a woman with ice in her veins.

Maria closed her eyes again. The cold water soothed her. Cleansed her. Forgave her for the doubts that plagued her heart.

I will find you, she promised silently. I will build something worthy of you. And when you come, I will be ready.

The water grew still around her. Her breathing slowed. For the first time in months, the turmoil inside her quieted.

She did not know how long she sat there. Minutes. Hours. Time moved strangely in the cold. But eventually, the water began to feel less like comfort and more like escape. She could not hide here forever.

Maria stood, water streaming from her pale skin. She walked up the shallow steps and out of the pool. The air hit her wet body, but she did not shiver. She never shivered.

She dried herself with a soft cloth and dressed in fresh clothes left for her by the servants who never seemed to sleep. White silk. Soft wool. Simple and elegant.

At the door, she paused. She looked back at the pool, at the still water reflecting the painted ceiling above.

"Wait for me," she whispered. Not to the water. Not to the room.

To him. Across worlds. Across realms. Across everything that separated them.

She walked out.

The corridor was still empty. The castle still slept. But Maria's steps were different now. Lighter. More certain.

She had trained until her body screamed. She had bathed in the cold that was her birthright. She had faced her doubts and pushed them down, not with ice, but with iron will.

She was Maria. Ice Princess of the White Castle. Sister to Gracier and Luna. Lover to Alex.

And she would not break.

Not today. Not ever.

The wind outside her window would continue to blow. The snow would continue to fall. The kingdom would continue to stand.