The northern lights moved in waves above the frozen wasteland I'd called home for the past decade. Here, at the edge of the known world, where even the hardiest of traders feared to venture, I'd found a semblance of peace.

My small cabin, built from dense timber and reinforced with what little ice magic I could muster, had long stood as my only shelter in exile.

The frost patterns along its walls were crude compared to the elegant crystalline structures of my family's estates, but they held against the bitter wind just the same.

I was Isaac von Eiskar, the shame of the great House Eiskar, and at thirty-seven years old, I knew this was the night I would die. The thought brought neither fear nor regret, only a cold acceptance that matched the eternal winter surrounding me.

They were coming.

My brother's assassins, no doubt, finally sent to tie up this loose end of family embarrassment.

Even without magic, I could feel it, the temperature dropping beyond the natural cold, the way the aurora above twisted unnaturally. My decades of studying ice magic, despite barely being able to use it, had taught me to recognize the signs. The air held that peculiar stillness that preceded powerful spellwork, the kind my family wielded with such devastating precision.

Had I possessed their gift, I might have sensed more, but theory and observation were all I'd ever had.

I set down my research journal, hundreds of pages dedicated to understanding the theoretical foundations of ice magic I could never properly wield. My fingers traced the complex diagrams of Absolute Zero, the legendary power I'd spent my life trying to understand and track down the bits and pieces left behind in the history of the family founder. A bitter smile crossed my face. All that knowledge, and I could barely freeze a cup of water.

The irony wasn't lost on me , I could recite every principle of crystalline formation, explain the exact resonance patterns needed for deep freezing, yet couldn't manifest even the simplest ice construct.

The first ice spear shattered my window with a sound like breaking crystal. I dove behind my desk as more followed, turning my humble study into a frozen hell. Razor-sharp shards of magical ice embedded themselves in walls, books, and furniture, each one precisely aimed to maim or kill. Through the gaps in the bombardment, I caught glimpses of them, five figures in the signature white-blue armor of House Eiskar's elite hunters, with ceremonial frost-etched plates .

"Brother," Franz's voice carried through the chaos, as cold as the magic he wielded. The familiar arrogant drawl hadn't changed in a decade. "You've led us on quite a chase."

I knocked over my bookshelf, creating a temporary barrier. Ancient tomes and research journals scattered across the floor. Generations of Eiskar magical theory tumbled across the frozen stone, each book worth a fortune to the right collector.

"Ten years wasn't enough of a hint that I wanted to be left alone?" My voice was steady, despite everything. "I'm no threat to the succession, Franz. I never was."

The words tasted like ash in my mouth.

A harsh laugh answered me, echoing off the ice-coated walls. "This isn't about succession anymore, little brother. The Elders have declared you an embarrassment that needs to be erased. No Eiskar can be allowed to live without proper magic. It tarnishes our bloodline."

His words carried that familiar mix of contempt and false pity that I'd grown up hearing.

Ice crept along my floors and walls, the temperature plummeting further. I could see my breath crystallizing in front of me, forming delicate patterns that would have been beautiful if they weren't harbingers of my death. My decades of research had taught me exactly what they were doing, creating an ice domain, a field where their magic would be amplified and my movements would be slowed. The technique was designed to trap and kill, turning the very air into a weapon against the target.

If I had any real magic, I could have countered it. Instead, I grabbed the one weapon I had, an old sword, not even enchanted with ice magic like proper Eiskar weaponry. I'd learned to use it over the years, depending on steel and blade to defend myself against the encroaching wild, putting what I read into practice to build up skill.

More than once I'd slit the belly of a frost wolf or cut down one of the savage raiders that prowled these borderlands.

As I gripped the familiar hilt, something shifted. The blade felt different, lighter somehow, yet more substantial. A strange sensation crawled up my arm, like ice water flowing through my veins but without the burning cold I'd come to associate with Eiskar magic.

The sword moved with an alien grace as I tested its weight. Each adjustment of my grip sent ripples of that strange feeling through my muscles. My body responded with movements I'd only studied in theory, adjustments to stance and balance that I'd read about but never managed to execute properly.

"No more running, brother." Franz's voice carried over the howling wind. "Face your end with what little dignity you have left."

I shifted my weight to my back foot, the motion feeling both foreign and perfectly natural. The blade aligned with my centerline exactly as the ancient combat manuscripts had described, but I'd never achieved such precision before. My mind raced through decades of theoretical study – optimal angles, force distribution, body mechanics – and for the first time, theory aligned perfectly with physical reality.

The sword didn't glow or frost over like an Eiskar weapon should. It remained plain steel, yet somehow it felt more right than any magical blade I'd ever held. As I moved into a defensive stance, my body flowed through positions I'd only ever seen in diagrams.

Franz stepped through the shattered window, ice armor gleaming in the aurora's light. His hand raised, frost gathering around his fingers in preparation for another spell. But something had changed in his expression, the contempt giving way to confusion as he watched my movements.

"You'll die on your feet at least." He laughed, shaking away his confusion.

Franz's ice domain continued to spread, coating everything in a crystalline shell that would slow any normal person's movements. But I'd studied this technique extensively - knew its weaknesses, the slight variations in ice density that could be exploited. My brother had always favored power over precision, creating patterns that looked impressive but contained structural flaws.

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I shifted my weight to the balls of my feet, sword held in a middle guard that would have made my old combat instructors wince. Let them think me the same weak failure they remembered. Ten years of practical sword work combined with my theoretical knowledge had taught me something my family never understood - efficiency trumps power.

The first hunter burst through my frozen door in a shower of ice shards. His movements were textbook Eiskar combat style, aggressive, relying on magical superiority to overwhelm opponents. I recognized the pattern from countless training sessions I'd observed but never mastered.

He expected me to retreat, to give ground like I always had before.

"You could have just let me be," I said, rolling away as an ice spike pierced through my makeshift barrier, sending crystalline shards skittering across the floor. The familiar cold burn of frost magic tingled against my skin. "I chose exile. I removed myself from the family. I even signed the formal renunciation papers you insisted upon."

"And yet you continued to study our magic." This voice belonged to my cousin Wilhelm, his tone carrying that particular mix of superiority and disgust unique to Eiskar nobility. "Found in your possession: forty-three volumes on advanced ice manipulation, twelve treatises on theoretical magic construction, and most damning of all, research into Absolute Zero."

I had to laugh at that, the sound bitter and sharp in the frozen air. "Research into power I could never use? That's my crime? Should I have spent my time studying flower arrangements instead?"

The ice domain solidified around us, crystalline patterns spreading across every surface, and I felt my joints stiffening from the cold. They were doing this slowly, toying with me like cats with a cornered mouse. Five S-rank ice mages against their magicless brother, they could have ended this instantly if they wanted to.

But that wouldn't satisfy their need to prove their superiority.

"Your crime," Franz said, stepping through the ruins of my front wall, ice armor gleaming in the aurora's light like a second skin of perfectly formed crystals, "was being born weak into a strong bloodline."

His voice carried absolute conviction, as if stating an immutable law of nature.

I saw them all clearly now, Franz, Wilhelm, and three elite hunters. Each wore the ceremonial armor of ice executioners. They'd come prepared for a formal killing.

Looking at them, I felt a lifetime of frustration and anger well up into perfect clarity. I might die here, but I wouldn't make it easy.

I charged forward, sword raised, letting cold rage fuel each precise step. They weren't expecting that, for the weakling to attack head-on.

It went against every lesson in noble combat they'd drilled into us since childhood. My blade met Franz's ice shield with a crystalline crack as Wilhelm launched a barrage of ice needles from my left, exactly the combination attack they'd used to humiliate me years ago.

I dropped and rolled, letting their attacks collide in a shower of frozen shards above my head. A decade of survival had taught me one thing , even the strongest mages could be surprised by pure physical skill, especially those who'd never bothered to train their bodies like I had in my exile.

"Still such a disappointment," Franz sighed, crafting an ice sword with that same casual arrogance he'd always worn like a crown. The blade formed perfectly in his grip, each edge gleaming with deadly precision. "You never learned dignity. A true Eiskar would rather die standing than crawl in the dirt like a common soldier."

My response was to throw one of my research journals at his face. As he reflexively blocked it, I closed the distance again. My sword struck his armor, and for a moment, I saw genuine surprise in his eyes. The blade had actually scratched his ice.

"Impossible," he breathed.

"Impossible is nothing. Ten years studying how ice magic works. Your armor has structural weaknesses at the joint points. Basic physics so long as I have a blade to use." I shot back, ducking under Wilhelm's attack

That earned me a fury of attacks from all sides. Ice spikes erupted from every surface, the domain itself becoming a weapon. I avoided what I could, blocked what I couldn't, and took the hits I had to. My body was already growing numb from the cold, movements slowing as frost crept along my limbs. Each breath came out in frozen puffs, the air itself seeming to freeze in my lungs.

"Enough games," Franz declared, his voice echoing with the authority of a true Eiskar heir. "End it."

The domain contracted sharply, ice crushing in from all sides like a massive crystalline fist. I felt my ribs crack under the pressure, each one giving way with distinct snaps that resonated through my chest. My sword arm froze solid from fingertips to shoulder, the blade dropping from nerveless fingers to shatter against the ground. Still, I remained standing, meeting Franz's eyes with defiance, refusing to kneel even as my legs threatened to buckle.

"Any last words, brother?" he asked, almost gentle now that victory was assured. The same tone he'd used when we were children, right before demonstrating some new way to hurt me.

Blood froze on my lips as I smiled, feeling the ice form with each labored breath. "I wish... I could have seen it. Just once."

"Die with that regret."

The domain imploded.

I felt every bone in my body shatter as the ice claimed me, spreading through flesh and marrow like liquid death. The cold was absolute, a perfect manifestation of the very theory I'd spent my life pursuing. In my last moments, I saw my research journal open to the page on Absolute Zero, the diagrams blurring as my vision faded.

Ten years of theoretical study, endless nights poring over ancient texts and testing formulas, all reduced to frozen waste. The cruel irony wasn't lost on me, to die by the very power I'd sought to understand.

If only...

Then darkness.

Then light.

I gasped awake in a familiar bed, in a familiar room I hadn't seen in twenty-one years. My body was young, whole, and thrumming with... power?

[Soul Integration Complete]

Knowledge and memories crashed through my mind, decades of study crashing into me with perfect clarity even as my young body trembled with all the information I had. Every scroll I'd studied, every technique I'd analyzed, all of it preserved and accessible.

Ice crystals moved around my fingers unbidden. When I reached out to them with my senses, the entire world seemed to slow down, every ice particle in the air becoming visible to my magical perception. This was... impossible.

[Absolute Zero Legacy Detected]

The notification burned itself into my consciousness, followed immediately by a series of urgent warnings. My magical perception exploded outward, suddenly aware of every ice crystal within thirty meters, every minute temperature variation, every flowing current of cold air.

[Status Assessment - Current Vessel]

The assessment was brutal in its honesty. This young body was weak, untrained, barely capable of channeling even a fraction of the power now residing within it. My prodigious mana pool strained against pathetically underdeveloped channels, like trying to force a river through a reed.

[Awakening Assessment Complete]

Power Classification: Absolute Zero I could feel the truth of it. The same power Issenheim himself had wielded, now locked within a vessel too fragile to properly contain it. Currently, I could access barely a tenth of a percent of its potential - any more would likely tear my body apart.

[Basic Ice Manipulation Unlocked]

At least this much I could manage.

I stared at my reflection in the frost-covered mirror, barely recognizing the teenage face looking back at me. Gone were the scars, the weathered lines, the hard-earned calluses.

My hands were soft again, unmarred by decades of swordwork and survival. The theoretical knowledge of combat remained, but this body had never held a real blade.

When Sebastian knocked, his familiar cadence brought back a flood of memories. "Young master, Lord Franz requests your presence at morning training."

My fingers traced the frost patterns I'd created without thinking. The level of control was extraordinary, each line perfectly formed. All those years of studying ice formation, of analyzing magical theory, and now I was in control of every part of the magic.

"'ll be there shortly," I called out, watching the frost respond to my voice, shifting and swirling in complex patterns that would have made my older self weep with envy.

I rose from the bed, noting how this younger body moved differently. No combat muscle memory, no ingrained reflexes from years of fighting for survival. But the knowledge was there, every technique I'd studied, every theory I'd tested, all of it preserved and ready to be implemented.

As I prepared for training, I felt the vast well of power within me, so different from my previous life's emptiness.

This wasn't just any ice magic. This was what I'd spent a lifetime researching, the legendary power I'd only theorized about.

This was Absolute Zero.

And this time, things would be very different.