Soulbound: Dual Cultivation

Chapter 407: End of First battle

The instant the General’s blade began to break through Lucas’ final layered defense, the Ice Belle felt it.

Across the battlefield, where she had been suppressing enemy cultivators and reinforcing Valerion’s formations with controlled frost, a sharp ripple cut through her perception. It was not merely the fluctuation of aura.

It was instability.

Lucas’ spatial signature, which had remained sharp and calculated throughout the engagement, wavered violently. Beneath it, she sensed something far more volatile stirring within his core, something hot and ancient pushing against fragile control.

Her eyes narrowed.

The General’s killing intent spiked.

She vanished.

Cold erupted outward from her previous position in a violent shockwave that froze two nearby usurpers mid-stride before shattering them where they stood. In the next heartbeat, she reappeared above the crater where Lucas knelt beneath crushing force.

The General’s blade descended that final inch.

Ice met steel.

A crystalline barrier formed in an instant, not thin or decorative but dense and layered with compressed frost essence. The General’s blade ground against it with a shriek that echoed across the valley.

The Ice Belle landed between them.

Her silver-white aura flared brilliantly, frost spiraling outward in controlled arcs that pushed the General back several steps despite his reinforced stance.

Lucas collapsed backward as the pressure lifted, coughing harshly as blood stained the ice beneath him.

The General’s eyes flashed with annoyance.

"You bitch p," he said coldly.

She did not answer.

The temperature around them plummeted so sharply that even distant soldiers felt their breath crystallize. Frost crawled rapidly across the fractured ground, sealing molten cracks left by earlier clashes. Snow began to spiral unnaturally despite the clear sky above, drawn into existence by her domain control.

The General charged first this time, unwilling to allow another prolonged exchange.

His blade came down in a sweeping arc reinforced with fire and wind, seeking to overpower through sheer density.

She met it head-on.

Ice formed along her arm in a reinforced gauntlet as she deflected the strike. The collision sent shards of frozen crystal exploding outward, while steam burst violently where fire met frost.

She countered immediately.

A wave of razor-thin ice blades erupted from the ground in a converging formation aimed at impaling the General from multiple angles. He stomped, earth reinforcement surging outward to shatter them before they could reach him.

Wind spiraled around him as he lunged again, attempting to close distance and exploit any weakness in her defense.

But she moved like flowing winter wind.

Where he struck, she dissolved into mist-like frost before reforming at a slightly offset angle. Where he attempted to overpower, she redirected with precision rather than brute force.

Flame roared.

Ice condensed.

Their clash became a violent equilibrium of opposing extremes.

The valley trembled under the strain of their confrontation. Heat from the General’s attacks melted entire patches of frozen ground, only for them to refreeze seconds later under her domain pressure. Steam clouds obscured visibility as fire and frost annihilated one another repeatedly.

Yet neither gained decisive ground.

The General’s third-stage density allowed him to absorb her piercing techniques without suffering immediate collapse. His brute force prevented her from advancing aggressively.

At the same time, her control over the atmosphere suppressed his momentum. The cold thickened his movements slightly. Frost accumulated along the edges of his armor despite his flame reinforcement.

He could not overwhelm her quickly.

She could not break him cleanly.

It became a stalemate of raw elemental opposition.

Behind her, Lucas struggled to rise, one hand pressed against his wounded side, breath uneven. The Dragon’s Inferno within him continued to churn restlessly, reacting to the proximity of both extreme heat and suffocating cold.

The Ice Belle did not look back.

Her voice, calm and cutting as winter itself, carried faintly over the clash.

"Recover."

Another collision erupted between her crystalline barrier and the General’s blazing blade, sending a shockwave rippling outward.

The General snarled, forced to divide his attention now between eliminating her and preventing Lucas from rejoining the fight.

For the first time since unleashing his full strength, he found himself unable to dictate the pace.

And in war, losing control of momentum was often the beginning of defeat.

Around them, the battlefield had thinned into silence.

The earlier roar of steel and cultivation techniques had faded into scattered groans and the distant crackle of dying flames. Valerion soldiers stood in wary formation, bloodied but upright. The usurpers’ surviving forces had either fallen back or been cut down during the final exchanges.

What had begun as a violent clash of armies had narrowed into a single focal point.

Ice against fire.

The Ice Belle hovered slightly above the fractured ground, her domain fully manifested now. Frost spiraled in controlled currents around her form, the valley air crystallized under her authority. Snowflakes formed and shattered in the same breath, the atmosphere entirely hers.

Opposite her stood the General, armor scorched and rimmed with frost, breath heavy but steady. The earlier fury in his eyes had cooled into something colder and more calculating.

They exchanged another devastating collision.

His blade came down with crushing third-stage density, amplified by wind and roaring flame. She intercepted with layered ice shields that condensed in rapid succession, each one cracking but absorbing enough force to prevent breakthrough. Steam exploded outward in blinding clouds.

He pivoted and unleashed a horizontal arc meant to cleave her midsection. She bent the cold itself, freezing the air into a hardened barrier that redirected the blow.

Again.

And again.

Neither yielding.

Yet as the steam thinned, the General’s gaze shifted beyond her shoulder.

He saw it clearly now.

His archers were gone.

His forward infantry lay scattered.

His cavalry had retreated in disarray.

Valerion soldiers, though battered, held formation.

The momentum of the battlefield had died, and it had not died in his favor.

He stepped back after their next clash, boots grinding into ice. Flame coiled around his blade, but he did not immediately strike again.

His jaw tightened.

They had lost the first engagement.

He could continue this duel, perhaps even press further with risk, but doing so would not reclaim the field. It would only deepen the defeat. His men were exhausted, destabilized by the cold and whatever unseen preparation had been laid before their arrival.

Continuing now would be pride, not strategy.

The Ice Belle remained poised, frost swirling, eyes steady and unblinking.

"You withdraw," she said calmly, though her aura remained lethal.

The General’s gaze flicked briefly toward where Lucas now stood upright in the distance, wounded but alive. Space faintly shimmered around him again despite his injuries.

The General understood.

If he prolonged this stalemate, Lucas would reenter the fight.

And that would shift the balance irreversibly.

Flame dimmed slightly around his blade as he straightened.

"This is not over," he said, voice carrying across the valley.

He raised his weapon high and slammed it into the ground once. A shockwave of earth rippled outward, not as an attack but as a signal.

From the far edges of the valley, surviving usurper forces began pulling back in organized retreat.

The Ice Belle did not pursue immediately. Her domain pressed outward, ensuring the withdrawal remained exactly that and did not turn into a final desperate charge.

The General stepped backward slowly, never turning his back fully until distance widened.

His eyes lingered on Lucas one last time.

Then wind surged violently around him, lifting debris and snow in a spiraling veil. When it settled, he was already retreating toward the rear, regrouping with what remained of his command.

Silence gradually reclaimed the valley.

Ice melted into thin streams where earlier fire had burned hottest. Steam drifted upward in fading wisps. The first battle had ended.

Valerion stood.

The usurpers had withdrawn.