I Died and Became a Noble's Heir

Chapter 446: Time to Clear Floor Three

The first ice bolt came without warning.

Rhys’s agility allowed him to twist aside, the frozen projectile missing him by inches and shattering against the ground behind him.

More ice bolts followed immediately, a coordinated barrage from multiple defenders on the walls.

”Wind Barrier!” Rhys called out, his mana surging as he created a curved wall of compressed air in front of him. The ice bolts struck the barrier and shattered, their kinetic energy dissipated by the wind’s resistance.

”Good reaction time,” Pho commented. ”Now counterattack. Show me you learned something.”

Rhys didn’t respond verbally. Instead, he dismissed the wind barrier and extended both daggers forward, lightning crackling along their edges with increased intensity.

His mana flowed through the weapons, channeling through the storm cloud material, and he felt Slyph’s presence resonating with the wind essence woven into the blades.

”Storm Current,” Rhys whispered, activating the special skill that Tempest’s Edge granted.

Blue lightning erupted from the daggers, but instead of striking directly, it spread through the air around him in a web of electrical currents.

His wind magic responded instinctively, recognizing the lightning and beginning to shape it to his will.

This was what fifty days of training had built toward. Not just using wind magic and lightning magic separately, but fusing them into something greater than the sum of their parts.

The electrical currents rode his wind magic like riders on invisible horses, spreading outward in an expanding sphere that covered fifty feet.

When the next volley of ice bolts entered that sphere, the lightning struck them mid-flight, superheating the ice so rapidly that the projectiles exploded into steam.

”Is that all you’ve got?” Pho’s voice boomed. ”You’re being too defensive!”

Rhys knew he was right. Defense alone wouldn’t win this fight. He needed to press the attack, to disrupt the defenders before they could establish proper tactics.

He sprinted forward, his agility allowing him to cover ground at speeds that would have seemed impossible before his training.

The Tempest Lord’s Regalia armor weight reduction made him feel almost weightless despite the protection it provided.

More ice bolts rained down, but Rhys was moving too fast now, changing direction unpredictably, using his wind magic to enhance his jumps and create brief bursts of acceleration that made tracking him nearly impossible.

Slyph emerged partially from his shoulder, her six-inch form wreathed in green wind energy. ”Rhys, left flank! Three snowmen coordinating!”

He saw them immediately.

Three massive figures made of compressed snow and ice, each standing eight feet tall with arms that ended in jagged ice spears.

They positioned themselves to create a crossfire that would be difficult to avoid.

Perfect opportunity to test another technique Pho had drilled into him endlessly.

”Water Prison,” Rhys commanded, as he extended one hand toward the nearest snowman.

His water magic responded, pulling moisture from the frigid air and the snow covering the ground. The water coalesced around the snowman in seconds, forming a sphere of liquid that completely trapped the creature.

The snowman thrashed inside its prison, its ice spear useless against the fluid barrier. Its companions hesitated, clearly uncertain how to respond to this unexpected tactic.

That moment of hesitation was all Rhys needed.

He thrust both daggers forward, lightning erupting from Tempest’s Edge with controlled precision. But instead of targeting the snowmen directly, he channeled the lightning into the water sphere.

Water conducted the lightning as it spread through the sphere in branching patterns, striking the trapped snowman from every direction simultaneously.

The creature’s body couldn’t withstand the electrical assault. It shattered from within, the water sphere collapsing into a mix of steam and ice fragments.

The other two snowmen roared and charged forward with their ice spears raised. But they were reacting emotionally now, their tactical coordination broken by seeing their companion destroyed so easily.

Rhys met their charge with his own, daggers flashing as he activated another technique from his training.

”Wind Step,” he whispered, and suddenly he was moving at double speed, his body carried by focused bursts of wind magic that made his footwork seem almost like flight.

He ducked under the first ice spear, his daggers slashing across the snowman’s midsection as he passed. Lightning discharged on contact, the electrical current following the water content in the creature’s body, disrupting the magical animation that gave it life.

The snowman staggered, its coordination failing as its internal structure broke down.

The second snowman thrust its spear toward Rhys’s back, but Slyph’s warning came instantly: ”Behind!”

Rhys twisted, using Wind Step to change direction mid-motion in a way that would have been physically impossible without magical assistance.

The ice spear missed him by inches, and he was suddenly inside the snowman’s guard, his daggers moving in precise strikes that Pho had made him practice thousands of times.

Thrust to the center mass. Lightning discharge to disrupt the internal structure.

Slash across the central points where magic held the body together.

Wind blast to separate the weakened pieces.

The snowman came apart in chunks of ice and snow that scattered across the frozen ground.

Rhys spun back to the first snowman, which was still trying to recover from his initial strike. He didn’t give it a chance. One final thrust through its core, lightning channeling directly into the magical matrix that animated it, and the creature collapsed into lifeless snow.

The entire engagement lasted thirty seconds.

”I give it a pass,” Pho’s voice carried approval that was probably as close to praise as the demon ever got. ”Your form was sloppy in the final exchange. You overextended on the thrust and nearly compromised your balance, but you adapted well when circumstances changed.”

Rhys was breathing heavily, the adrenaline making his hands shake slightly despite his best efforts to remain calm.

Three Terror-rank creatures were defeated without taking damage. Fifty days ago, he would have considered that impossible.

Slyph fully materialized beside him, her green aura pulsing with what he’d learned to recognize as pride. ”You’re getting better at this! That Water Prison-to-lightning technique was beautiful. The snowman didn’t even have time to realize what killed it.”

”Because it was already dead,” Rhys replied, referencing one of Pho’s more morbid lessons about the psychology of combat.

”Exactly!” Pho appeared beside them without making a sound. ”You’re finally internalizing the concept. The fight is won before the enemy realizes they’re fighting. Everything else is just cleanup.”

He gestured toward the fortress, where more figures were visible on the walls. ”But three Terror-rank snowmen are just the appetizer. The real challenge begins when you enter the fortress.”

Rhys looked at the massive structure, picking out details he’d missed from a distance. The walls weren’t just ice; they were reinforced with a crystalline material that refracted light in unusual patterns.

The entrance was a massive gate that looked like it had been carved from a single piece of frozen stone.

”What’s inside?” Rhys asked.

”More snowmen,” Pho replied. ”Yetis. Ice buffalo. Ice demons. All Terror to Dread rank. And at the center, in what I assume is the throne room or central chamber, the Ice Drake itself.”

”Dread rank?” Rhys felt his stomach tighten. Dread rank was significantly more dangerous than Terror. Equivalent to Level 35 to 45 adventurers, with abilities that could kill even experienced fighters if they weren’t careful.