The crowd gathered quickly under the cold evening sky, their breath visible in the frigid air as they made their way to the outdoor arena. The Everlasting Ice Clan has many great dueling grounds, but this one looks even more impressive. There’s a massive circular platform of pure, reinforced ice that glimmered faintly in the moonlight, surrounded by frost-coated stone seats. The arena had seen countless battles, each duel a testament to the clan's power.

Avince stepped onto the frozen battlefield, having changed into his battle attire before coming here, his boots crunching against the icy surface. The cold bit at his skin, but he barely felt it. His mind was elsewhere, replaying the matriarch’s meaning: "Fire is inferior to ice." The statement had dug into him, gnawing at his pride and fueling a stubborn determination. Tonight, he decided that he would have to see for himself.

Kristine stood on the opposite side of the arena, her posture relaxed but confident. Her white and blue robes fluttered slightly in the chilly breeze, and her icy blue eyes gleamed with anticipation. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?” she called out, her voice carrying across the arena. “I won’t go easy on you just because you’re new here.”

Avince smirked, rolling his shoulders as he let a flicker of flame dance between his fingers. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

Kael’s booming voice broke through the murmurs of the crowd. “This duel is a friendly demonstration of skill,” he announced, though his tone betrayed his eagerness for the fight. “Let the match begin!”

Kristine wasted no time. She thrust her hands forward, her mana surging as the temperature in the arena plummeted. Snow swirled around her, gathering in a storm that quickly engulfed the battlefield. A fierce blizzard erupted, cutting visibility to mere feet and sending shards of ice hurtling toward Avince.

Avince clenched his fists, his flames flickering to life and forming a protective barrier around him. The ice shards melted before they could reach him, turning into harmless steam. But Kristine wasn’t done. With a sharp gesture, she summoned a series of jagged ice spikes that shot up from the ground, forcing Avince to leap back to avoid being skewered.

“You’ll have to do better than that!” Avince shouted, slamming his palms together. A vortex of fire erupted around him, spinning faster and faster until it formed a barrier of intense heat. The snowstorm faltered as the fire pushed it back, creating a small bubble of warmth in the otherwise frigid arena.

Kristine raised her hands, and the snowstorm condensed into a massive sphere of ice above her head. With a flick of her wrist, she hurled it toward Avince. The sphere shattered upon impact with his fire vortex, sending shards of ice in every direction. But Kristine was already moving, using the storm to close the distance between them.

Avince barely had time to react as she appeared out of nowhere, conjuring an ice blade and slashing at him. He parried with a burst of flame, the heat forcing her to back off.

“Not bad,” she admitted, circling him like a predator. “But fire’s not enough to beat me.”

Avince gritted his teeth, the words echoing in his mind. Ice is superior. Fire will hinder your growth. He refused to believe it. Gathering his mana, he unleashed a torrent of flames that surged across the arena, melting the ice beneath Kristine’s feet and forcing her to retreat.

The crowd murmured in surprise as steam billowed up, obscuring the battlefield. But Kristine didn’t falter. She summoned a new wave of snow, cooling the arena and solidifying the melted ice. “You’re persistent,” she said, her voice calm despite the intensity of the fight. “But this is my domain.”

With a sweeping motion, she created an ice wall to block his flames and then sent a flurry of icicles raining down on him. Avince dodged and countered with a fireball, but Kristine deflected it with a flick of her wrist. The clash of elements sent sparks and shards flying, the heat and cold creating a chaotic symphony of destruction.

Kristine narrowed her eyes, her lips curving into a smirk. “So you’re only going to use fire magic?,” she said, her voice barely audible over the roaring flames. “Let’s see how far that gets you.”

Avince’s breathing grew heavier as he poured more mana into his flames. The effects of his soul getting stronger still lingered, amplifying his magic but making it harder to control. He could feel the strain, but he refused to back down. “You think ice is invincible?” he shouted, his voice laced with defiance. “Let me show you what I can do!”

He slammed his hands together again, this time conjuring a massive fire vortex that shot into the sky like a fiery tornado. The intense heat pushed back Kristine’s blizzard, the flames consuming her snow and ice. The crowd gasped as the vortex grew larger, its light illuminating the night like a second sun.

Kristine’s eyes widened, and for the first time, a flicker of uncertainty crossed her face. She raised her arms, summoning a huge chunk of her mana to create an enormous glacier that rose from the ground, its jagged edges glinting in the firelight. “Let’s see if your flames can handle this!” she shouted, sending the glacier hurtling toward him.

Avince didn’t flinch. He focused his mana, channeling it into a concentrated stream of fire that collided with the glacier. The impact was explosive, sending chunks of ice and bursts of flame flying in all directions. The arena shook, and the crowd shielded their eyes from the blinding light.

When the smoke cleared, Avince was still standing, his flames burning brighter than ever. The glacier had been reduced to a puddle of water that quickly evaporated under the heat. Kristine stared at him, her confidence wavering.

“You’re strong,” she admitted, her voice softer now. “But don’t think this is over.”

Avince smirked, his flames flickering around him like a living entity. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Kristine gathered the last of her mana, her body surrounded by a shimmering aura of frost. She unleashed her final attack, a massive wave of ice that surged across the arena, freezing everything in its path. The crowd held their breath, the sheer power of the attack leaving them in awe.

But Avince didn’t back down. He summoned all his strength, his flames roaring to life as he created a barrier of fire around him. The ice wave crashed against the flames, the two elements battling for dominance. For a moment, it seemed like a stalemate. But then, with a burst of energy, Avince’s flames overpowered the ice, shattering it into a million pieces.

Kristine fell to her knees, her mana completely drained. She looked up at Avince, who stood tall, his flames gradually dying down. “I...yield,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

The crowd erupted into cheers and applause, their excitement palpable. Avince extended a hand to Kristine, helping her to her feet. “Good fight,” he said, a genuine smile on his face.

Kristine managed a small smile in return. “You’re strong,” she admitted. “Fire isn’t as weak as I thought.”

As the two fighters left the arena, Avince glanced toward the matriarch, who watched from the stands with an unreadable expression. He didn’t need her approval. Tonight, he had proven something to himself—and that was all that mattered.

The duel had concluded, but the energy it left behind lingered in the air, crackling like embers in a fading fire. Avince felt a mixture of exhaustion and satisfaction as he followed his family out of the arena. The crowd dispersed slowly, many of them still murmuring in astonishment over the battle. For now, the rivalry of flames and frost had subsided, giving way to a different kind of gathering.

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The celebration was held in the clan’s grand pavilion, a sprawling structure of crystalline ice and mana-infused stone that shimmered faintly under the moonlight. It stood at the heart of the Winters Clan’s territory, surrounded by snow-laden trees and softly glowing lanterns that gave the area an ethereal glow. Despite the icy surroundings, the inside of the pavilion was comfortably warm, enchanted to keep guests cozy no matter the weather.

Avince stepped into the pavilion and was immediately greeted by an array of tantalizing aromas. Long tables were laden with dishes that seemed to defy the cold environment: steaming soups, perfectly roasted meats, delicate pastries, and even an array of frozen desserts that glittered like jewels. It was a feast that celebrated both the clan’s heritage and their mastery over ice.

“Not bad for a first visit, huh?” Amyra nudged him, her earlier worry about his brother’s duel replaced with a playful grin. “Bet you didn’t think we’d have food like this in an ice fortress.”

Avince chuckled, shaking his head. “I’ll admit, I was expecting frozen fish and snow soup.”

“Snow soup isn’t a thing!” Amyra retorted with mock indignation, then paused. “Actually, I think Aunt Freyja tried to make it once…”

“Not my fault it’s an acquired taste,” came a voice from behind them. A woman who looked to be in her forties, with black hair and a mischievous glint in her eyes, walked up, balancing a plate piled high with food. “You must be Avince. I’m Freyja, one of your mom’s sisters—or adopted sisters, I should say. I’ve been hearing a lot about you, but dang, that battle really left one hell of a first impression.”

Avince blinked, slightly caught off guard by her casual demeanor. “Uh, nice to meet you.”

Freyja leaned in conspiratorially. “Word of advice: steer clear of Aunt Ingrid’s soup. She’s not exactly known for her cooking skills.” She winked before moving on to join another group, leaving Avince to process the whirlwind introduction.

The pavilion buzzed with chatter as clan members mingled, exchanging stories and laughter. Avince found himself drawn to the long buffet tables, where the dishes seemed almost too beautiful to eat. He picked up a plate, unsure where to start, when his father, Erwin, appeared beside him.

“Go for the roasted venison,” Erwin suggested, nodding toward a platter adorned with slices of perfectly cooked meat. “It’s marinated with some kind of ice herb. Surprisingly good.”

Avince followed his advice and added a few slices to his plate. “So, this is what celebrations are like here?” he asked, glancing around at the lively scene.

Erwin nodded, his expression softening. “The Winters have some really great cooks. That’s one of their ways of making an amazing first impression. Why do you think I married your mom?”

“Speaking of impressions,” Ashna suddenly said, joining them with a plate of her own as she glared at her husband. “You did well out there, Avince. Kristine is a tough opponent, and you handled her storm beautifully.”

Avince shrugged, trying to downplay his accomplishment. “It was just a duel. Nothing too serious.”

“Don’t sell yourself short,” Ashna replied, her tone firm but kind. “You beat her using only your fire too.. That’s nothing to brush off.”

Before Avince could respond, a new voice cut in. “Well, well, look who’s suddenly the talk of the clan.”

He turned to see an older woman approaching, her expression a mix of curiosity and thinly veiled annoyance. Her icy blue eyes were sharp, and her presence exuded an air of authority. Kristine trailed behind her, looking slightly sheepish.

“Ingrid,” Ashna greeted her with a polite smile. “It’s been a while.”

“Ashna,” Ingrid replied curtly, her gaze shifting to Avince. “So this is your son. The one who caused such a stir tonight.”

Avince straightened, unsure how to respond to the scrutiny. “Uh, yes, ma’am. I’m Avince.”

Ingrid’s eyes narrowed slightly. “You’re strong. I’ll give you that. But strength without refinement is dangerous, especially for someone dabbling in fire magic. Don’t let it go to your head.”

Kristine elbowed her mother gently. “Mom, he did well. You don’t have to scare him off.”

Ingrid huffed but didn’t argue. Instead, she turned her attention to Ashna. “You’ve raised an interesting one. Let’s hope he lives up to the potential you seem to think he has.”

With that, she moved on, leaving Avince to exhale a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

“Don’t mind her,” Kristine said, offering him an apologetic smile. “She’s just a bit...peculiar.”

“Peculiar is one way to put it,” Amyra muttered under her breath, earning a chuckle from Avince.

The evening continued with more introductions. Avince met several of his mother’s other adopted siblings, each with their own unique quirks. There was Torren, a boisterous man with a booming laugh who insisted on challenging Avince to an arm-wrestling match. “Just for fun!” he said, though Avince was pretty sure the guy could break all his bones with a single tap. Then there was Lyssa, a quiet woman who spoke softly but carried an air of wisdom.

The conversation shifted between lighthearted banter and deeper discussions about the clan’s history and traditions.

At one point, Avince found himself seated between his father and Kael, who was clearly enjoying the food as much as the atmosphere despite their earlier confrontation.

“You surprised me tonight,” Kael said, gesturing with his fork. “I didn’t expect you to handle Kristine so well.”

Avince raised an eyebrow. “Is that a compliment?”

Kael grinned. “Take it however you want. Just don’t get too comfortable. There are plenty of others in the clan who’d love to challenge you.”

“Good to know,” Avince replied, his tone dry.

The night wore on, and the pavilion grew livelier as the guests indulged in food, drink, and laughter. Avince couldn’t remember the last time he’d been part of such a festive gathering. Despite the initial tension and the lingering weight of the matriarch’s words, he found himself relaxing in the warmth of his family’s presence.

As the celebration wound down, The night wore on, and the pavilion grew livelier as the guests indulged in food, drink, and laughter. The warm glow of lanterns overhead illuminated the tables, where animated conversations and hearty toasts brought life to the gathering. Avince couldn’t remember the last time he’d been part of such a festive celebration. Despite the initial tension from the morning and the lingering weight of the matriarch’s words, he found himself relaxing in the warmth of his family’s presence.

As the crowd began to thin and the festivities wound down, Avince stepped away from the main pavilion, finding a quieter spot near a stone bench by the garden’s edge. His father joined him moments later, a glass of wine in hand and a calm expression on his face.

“They’re really enjoying themselves,” Avince said softly, gesturing toward the pavilion where laughter still echoed. His gaze shifted to Erwin, his brow furrowing slightly. “But… I don’t get it. Why does everyone seem so friendly now? After what happened this morning with the power play, I thought they’d still be trying to do something.”

Erwin took a slow sip of his drink before setting the glass down on the stone bench beside him. His voice was measured as he replied, “You’re not wrong about the power play, Avince. But you have to understand—most of the clan isn’t out to harm us or plot against us. They’re just… prideful. It’s part of who they are. Appearances, strength, and tradition mean everything to them. This morning’s display wasn’t malice—it was a way to remind us of our place in the clan’s hierarchy.”

Avince raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Doesn’t make it any less frustrating. It felt like they were trying to tell us to know our place.”

Erwin smiled faintly, his tone softening. “That’s one way to see it, but you’re missing the bigger picture. The matriarch wouldn’t tolerate anything too drastic. She values her family and the clan she built from the ground up, and she’d never let things escalate beyond what’s necessary to save face. The truth is, most of the people here are good at heart—they’re just bound by the clan’s customs and their own pride.

Avince sighed, leaning back against the cool stone of the bench. “I guess it’s easier to judge from the outside looking in.” His gaze dropped briefly before he added, “Speaking of the matriarch…”

Avince then told his father a brief summary of what the matriarch had said earlier and whether the duel might somehow offend her, considering he had only used fire in the duel.

Erwin’s expression turned thoughtful, and he rested a reassuring hand on Avince’s shoulder. “The matriarch shouldn’t be angry about that duel. If anything, she’d admire your resolve. Her words about ice weren’t a rebuke—they were her way of saying she believes it would suit you better. She wouldn’t be upset with you, Avince. She simply wants what she thinks is best for you, even if her approach can feel… frustrating.”

Avince tilted his head, his lips curving into a wry smile. “Frustrating might be putting it lightly.”

Erwin chuckled, his hand giving Avince’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “She’s lived a long life, seen countless battles, and guided this clan through difficult times. Her advice, whether you follow it or not, comes from a place of genuine care. But at the end of the day, your path is your own to choose. Don’t let anyone, not even the matriarch, take that from you.”

Avince nodded slowly, feeling a sense of relief settle over him. “Thanks, Dad. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Erwin smiled, standing and picking up his glass of wine. “Good. Now, why don’t we head back before your sister realizes she’s alone and throws a tantrum?”

Avince let out a small laugh, standing and following his father back toward the pavilion, the weight of the day’s events feeling a little lighter on his shoulders.