The Cryo Sovereign's Secret

Chapter 59: Chapter 58



The Tear in the Sky remained open.

It did not shimmer, or warp.

It simply was—a wound across existence, held wide by the presence of Death herself.

And from it…

Something fell.

Not a rock.

Not a star.

Not a blessing from above.

But a meteor, blazing black and red, shrieking with force—and cracking through the sealed realm like it didn't recognize its laws.

The moment it touched ground—

the earth screamed.

Not from impact.

From recognition.

Because what rose from the smoke…

Was not a woman.

It was a declaration.

---

She stood tall, too tall, her silhouette fluid—shifting like oil over flame.

Pale skin shimmered with unnatural light.

Her hair was a white so thick it looked carved from bone, and eyes—

Oh, those eyes.

Seven-petaled golden pupils. Shaped like a flower. Blooming like prophecy.

Her outfit whispered her nature:

Black translucent bodysuit.

Strapless dress, torn in front to reveal elegant, lethal legs.

Triquetras pulsed on each hip—ancient symbols, never forgotten.

The hem of her gown spilled into black feathers, lined in blood-wine red, trailing like the wings of a fallen god.

And she stared.

Expressionless.

Unblinking.

As if the Sovereigns gathered below her were nothing more than names in a forgotten ledger.

---

Neuvillette stepped forward, the sea rising in resonance around him.

His cloak billowed, and the very clouds above the sealed realm began to bend to his will.

He glowed—his eyes fierce with long-restrained judgment.

And behind him, Zephyr spoke quietly—his voice edged in awe and warning:

"Now, of all times?"

He narrowed his gaze.

"Looks like Neuvillette has fully redeveloped his Authority over the Hydro Element."

---

But Ronovoa, still hovering in the sky above, offered only a quiet pity.

Her voice slithered into every corner of the realm, smooth and cruel:

"Sovereigns… Even with your full Authority shattered in the last war…"

Her hollow gaze swept across them, pausing a second longer on VlastMoroz.

"What makes you think you have a chance this time?"

VlastMoroz rose first.

No grand movement.

Just a breath—a chill across the battlefield.

And with that single exhale, time stopped.

Ronovoa's eyes froze mid-blink.

Air crystallized. Waves halted mid-crash. Even the echoes of her last words hung in the air like frozen smoke.

But then—

Crack.

The ice fractured.

Not because Ronovoa moved—

but because she killed the concept of movement itself.

"Such trivial pursuits…"

Her voice returned, lazy and disdainful.

"…will only end in failure."

She lifted one delicate hand, palm open.

VlastMoroz flinched.

It wasn't an attack.

It was a death sentence—and her very existence felt its weight.

---

Then—like a whisper through a tornado—

Zephyr vanished.

No sound. No light.

Just absence.

And then—presence.

He reappeared behind Ronovoa mid-swing, a skeletal dragon cloaked in pressure and silence. His blade of condensed wind tore toward her like a guillotine that demanded no trial.

But—

Ronovoa turned.

Caught the strike.

And with a whisper—

"Die."

The wind vanished.

The slash dissolved.

Zephyr stumbled back, wings flaring, eyes narrow.

---

From the clouds above, a comet descended—

Xiuhcoatl.

His tail ignited mid-descent, transformed into a blade of divine fire, and he swung down with the momentum of a dying sun.

Ronovoa raised her polearm—a weapon not crafted but born, pulled from the marrow of extinct gods.

Clash.

The entire realm shuddered.

Ash rained.

Reality flinched.

Ronovoa's eyes flicked to Xiuhcoatl, unimpressed.

---

From behind her—

Neuvillette's voice cut through the chaos.

It didn't scream.

It proclaimed.

"From this moment forth—

I wield my Authority over Hydro…

…to judge Ronovoa, Shade of Death,

for the crime of defying the Sovereigns!"

His scale of Justice cracked against the ground.

The sea rose—not as water, but as truth.

A celestial scale materialized in the sky, glowing with judgment.

On one end—Ronovoa.

On the other—every life Death had taken that did not belong to her.

She hissed—not from pain, but from distraction.

"You dare punish death with water…?"

Her essence flared, and the judgment began to fade—

bit by bit, she corrupted the very scales trying to weigh her.

But Neuvillette did not falter.

"Even if it kills me…

You will be held accountable."

---

Raiclaus landed next, dragging storms behind her wings.

Each beat of her jagged form crackled with weaponized history.

She didn't speak.

She sliced.

Her serrated wings crashed into Ronovoa's defenses, scoring sparks of void on impact.

Ronovoa grunted, staggering back.

Her polearm spun, slicing the very light apart, but—

She was being pushed.

---

Far behind, in the shadows of the battlefield—

Apep slithered in silence.

Eyes closed. No movement wasted.

"This realm…" she muttered,

"…cannot withstand us for long."

She lowered her body into a coil, and began to gather her divine spellwork.

Old, forgotten spells.

Erasure magic—not destruction, not sealing—

but the denial of ever having existed.

---

Beneath them, Varnak'Thul submerged.

The ground cracked around him as his form sank into the soil, his voice like stone grinding on itself:

"I make a promise with Teyvat—

As long as the Shade of Death does not harm a Sovereign…

The Heavenly Principles shall not be sentenced to eternal slumber."

A golden oath formed beneath the realm itself—

threads of law, history, and magic tightening like a noose.

---

Ronovoa heard it.

And for the first time—

She snapped.

"You WHAT?!"

She vanished—a streak of crimson and black—

reappearing above Varnak'Thul's crater.

But she never touched down.

Because standing between her and the Geo Sovereign—

Were four weapons.

VlastMoroz. Zephyr. Xiuhcoatl. Raiclaus.

All glowing.

All armed.

All ready.

---

The battle ignited.

Claws. Steel. Fire. Ice. Lightning. Wind. Death.

Each swing of Ronovoa's polearm was countered by a strike of absolute elemental will.

VlastMoroz spun spears of Cryo through the battlefield, freezing dimensions mid-spin.

Zephyr's movements bent gravity, folding terrain like parchment.

Xiuhcoatl left afterimages of himself with every blink, flaming copies that exploded on contact.

Raiclaus's wings tore open the air, scattering judgment arcs like divine shrapnel.

Ronovoa fought like a star refusing to die.

She parried. She countered. She wounded them.

And yet—

Every slash she delivered came at a cost.

---

"Our elemental energy isn't recovering,"

VlastMoroz hissed, barely dodging a polearm thrust.

Raiclaus's eyes narrowed.

"We're draining… fast."

---

Apep's voice whispered across the battlefield.

"This realm doesn't contain elements beyond what you brought."

"Use them wisely."

The Sovereigns paused—momentarily.

So did Ronovoa.

And the air trembled with something no one expected.

Fear.

Fear.

It wasn't loud.

It didn't scream.

But it bloomed behind Ronovoa's perfect posture—

like rot under porcelain.

Her shoulders stiffened.

Her polearm wavered.

Her breath… stuttered.

Because something had changed.

---

The connection was gone.

The golden threads of Celestia—once bound tightly around her—

had been severed.

And with them—

her Authority over Death began to unravel.

Not vanish.

But slip.

Piece by piece.

Like someone peeling a divine seal from her bones.

---

Apep smiled.

And in her true Draconic form, it was terrifying.

Rows of fangs.

Eyes like eclipses.

" It's our victory."

Her voice reverberated like thunder inside the bones of the world.

---

Ronovoa's pupils flickered.

She looked at her own hand—trembling.

The darkness around her flickered like it feared its host.

"What…

what did you do?"

Her voice was no longer cruel.

It was small.

---

She never got her answer.

Because—

CRASH.

Xiuhcoatl's divine tail-blade descended, glowing like a sword wielded by a dying star.

Raiclaus's wings followed, slicing in twin arcs of raw thunder.

The collision triggered an Overload.

A blinding, howling, explosive shockwave—

And Ronovoa was hurled, her divine body thrown like debris across the shattered land.

She hit the ground, hard.

The very earth screamed again, no longer recognizing her as its mistress.

---

The Seven Sovereigns encircled her.

Neuvillette stood above, his Draconic form looming like justice itself.

Rain poured. The skies wept.

The Judgment continued.

"You… you... defy Celestia?"

Ronovoa coughed, blood that wasn't blood staining her lips.

"With your paltry… mortal-born powers…?"

---

Neuvillette lowered his head.

"I hereby punish you for—"

CRRRRRRACK—

The sky tore open.

A wound across the horizon—

not like the Tear before.

This was different.

It didn't shimmer.

It pulsed.

A heartbeat.

Inverted.

Wrong.

As if the world was breathing backward.

And from it—

Asmoday emerged.

---

No ceremony.

No announcement.

Just her presence—

and silence recoiling to make space.

Her form glitched through layers of reality.

The laws of physics refused to settle around her.

She no longer held the soul core.

Her eyes were colder than before.

"How did you actually lose connection with Celestia?"

"That's impressive even for you."

---

Zephyr didn't wait.

He vanished—

Not through teleportation, but through time.

One flap of his wings sent the hourglass backward.

Neuvillette's voice reversed mid-sentence.

Raiclaus's feathers fluttered upward, retreating.

Xiuhcoatl's flames curled back into his mouth.

Zephyr reached out to grab Ronovoa—

But—

Asmoday moved.

Not fast.

Not violently.

Just enough.

And reality folded.

Like paper torn by a knife made of memory.

---

And then—

Both were gone.


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