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Young Cultivators of the Ice Kingdom
Amidst a frozen wasteland perpetually blanketed by eternal snow stood the Snow Horizon Arena on the outermost edge of the Ice Kingdom’s capital. The architectural masterpiece took the form of a colossal circular amphitheater carved from pure ice-blue crystal, radiating a blinding brilliance when bathed in the morning sunlight. Towering pillars encircled the arena, rooted firmly into the permafrost blocks like a row of heavenly spears descending from the sky, while its walls were coated with ice jewels exuding an absolute, bone-piercing chill.
Today was no ordinary day. Grand white banners, embroidered with silver threads forming the snow crystal crest, fluttered fiercely against the howling northern wind at every corner of the towers. Today marked the Closing Ceremony of the Grand Training for the Ice Kingdom’s Young Star Seal Cultivators—a moment of absolute reckoning after surviving the blood-soaked trials of the past few days. Every prodigious youth within the Ice Kingdom was mandated to trudge through the hell of these trials to earn the exalted title of Young Cultivator; a mantle borne only by those who swore to spill their blood and surrender their lives to serve as the absolute aegis of the Ice Kingdom.
In the epicenter of the vast, circular arena, dozens of youths stood rigidly in flawless formation. Pale blue uniform robes clung tightly to their mortal shells, which were painted with lacerations and dark bruises. Their youthful visages were frozen in tension, their eyes locked dead ahead, reflecting an amalgamation of overflowing awe and paralyzing terror.
At the absolute vanguard stood Svara. The silver-haired maiden radiated an aura as frigid as a northern tempest. Her visage was carved with peerless beauty yet remained astonishingly rigid, as if allowing absolutely zero room for mortal emotions. She was the second daughter of King Bawigan, the biological younger sister of Princess Julia. Though she had merely grazed the age of seventeen, her gaze projected the unyielding fortitude of a seasoned war veteran.
CRACK!
The heavy thud of a steel boot shattered the arena’s silence. A towering man, clad in thick silver armor and a cloak woven from snow-wolf fur, strode forward. He stood as immovable as an iceberg before the young warriors. He was General Tegra, the living legend of the snowy battlefields, and the most fiercely loyal commander of King Bawigan’s vanguard.
General Tegra swept his piercing gaze across the ranks, delivering his edict with an authority that crushed the ambient air.
”From this exact second,” General Tegra’s baritone boomed, echoing against the crystal walls, “you have officially earned the title of Young Cultivators of the Ice Kingdom. However, heed my absolute warning: never allow yourselves to be intoxicated by the euphoria of this petty victory! The realm beyond these walls of ice is millions of times more ruthless and brutal than the biting chill you successfully subjugated within this arena.”
A suffocating silence blanketed the arena. Snowflakes drifted slowly from the heavens, burying the smears of fresh blood that still stained the icy floor beneath their boots. Within the chests of those youths, ambition, vengeance, and terror now fused into a singular entity—forged into the primary fuel for the apocalyptic wars awaiting them in the future.
”I shall engrave an absolute comprehension into your minds,” General Tegra stated, his voice tranquil yet as sharp as a drawn blade. “The comprehension of the true meaning behind the Star Seals now igniting within your mortal shells. Open your ears and listen closely, because this knowledge will dictate who you become, and exactly what entities of death you shall confront on the battlefield.”
The General locked eyes with his disciples one by one.
”A Star Seal is no mere ornament! It is the absolute reflection of power, the manifestation of experience, and the degree of energy mastery derived from the Star Monster Cores that have fused with your body and soul, forging a god-like foundation upon a mortal physique,” he explained bluntly. “Every tier signifies the magnitude of your lethal capacity alongside the crushing weight of your responsibilities. There is an absolute hierarchy upon this continent that you are mandated to comprehend and obey!”
General Tegra began detailing the laws of the cultivation realm. “Possessing 1 to 4 Star Seals signifies that you are Young Cultivators. Generally, they fall within the age bracket of fifteen to seventeen years. This is the phase marking the initial awakening of your Star Seal and filling it with your very first Star Monster Core. Remember this: the first Star Monster you absorb will pass an absolute verdict upon your foundational strength for the entirety of your life—ranging from your base elemental affinity to the characteristics of the martial arts you shall cultivate. Every subsequent Star Seal you successfully condense will exponentially amplify your destructive yield, physical endurance, and raw courage in the face of death.”
He began pacing back and forth with a rigid posture. “5 to 6 Star Seals… you earn the right to bear the title of Master Cultivator. Fighters within this phase have generally matured between the ages of eighteen to twenty. Their combat prowess has become undeniably lethal.”
”7 to 8 Star Seals… you step into the realm of Pandhega.” General Tegra’s voice lowered, carrying the heavy weight of profound respect. “Usually, this is achieved at the age of twenty and beyond. Within the Kingdom’s hierarchy, a Pandhega serves as a field general; they possess the capacity to command troop formations, dissect enemy strategies in the blink of an eye, and strike with fatal precision. A Pandhega shoulders the sacred mandate of serving as a master and commander to the Young and Master Cultivators. The burden of lives they shoulder is vastly heavier than the power they wield, yet it is precisely that sacrifice that defines a true martial artist!”
General Tegra halted his steps and struck his chest plate, generating a resounding metallic clang. “9 to 10 Star Seals! This is the realm of Kings and Generals. Only those with minds forged of steel and blessed with heaven-defying talent are worthy of shouldering the burden of ten seals. Above that, there exists an absolute echelon transcending ordinary commanders: Cultivators possessing six Red Star Seals, marked by three crimson seal lines coiling around their arms. They are recognized as Emperor-level Star Seal Cultivators. They are no longer mere martial artists; they are the absolute protective pillars of the Kingdom. Their aura is capable of freezing the courage of their foes, and their names shall be engraved in golden ink for all eternity.”
General Tegra raised his right hand into the air. Freezing qi coalesced, projecting a majestic illusion of golden light above their heads.
”However, above the stage of mortal emperors, lies an untouchable dimension: The God Realm,” he uttered with profound reverence. “This pinnacle is marked by the manifestation of a Halo Ring upon the cultivator’s back, which serves as the vessel for the Star Seal Orbs. An outer ring radiating pure Golden light containing 1 to 5 Stars within it, signifies the cultivator has officially grazed the realm of a God. Meanwhile, should they successfully condense a Second Inner Ring harboring 1 to 7 Stars… they shall be crowned as a God King! Only a minuscule fraction of mortals who have successfully shattered the boundaries of death possess the capability to ascend this throne.”
Every disciple in the arena held their breath. The phantom projection of that majestic golden aura began to ignite their imaginations and absolute ambitions.
”Ascending even higher than that are the entities known as Superior Gods,” General Tegra continued, his heavy voice vibrating against the ice pillars. “The rings upon their backs mutate into the color of Blood Red. If they possess 1 to 7 Stars within the Outer Ring, they are Superior Gods. And possessing 1 to 7 Stars within the Inner Ring cements them as Supreme Gods. At this absolute zenith, they can no longer be classified as human. A single sweep of their hand is capable of terraforming the geographical structure of a battlefield, and every syllable escaping their lips is capable of shattering the sanity and halting the hearts of millions of foes.”
General Tegra’s eagle-like eyes locked onto his disciples sharply, piercing straight to the depths of their souls. “And at the absolute apex… exists the Immortal Realm, signified by a Ring upon the back radiating the Emerald Green hue of eternity. Throughout the entire history since this continent’s genesis, only the rarest of the rare have ever tread upon this impossible echelon. Becoming an Immortal is no longer a question of who wields greater power; their existence completely transcends the laws of the mortal realm, holding an absolute, near-invincible immortality, living eternally as legends of the cosmos. You are permitted to dream of ascending that throne… but engrave this warning into your minds: the path to climb there is paved with mountains of sacrifice, oceans of valor, and rivers of blood.”
”There is one fundamental law you are mandated to note: once a cultivator has breached the God Realm, the disparity in power between one Star and the next is a ratio of one to one hundred! Eroding that chasm demands unspeakable agony, blood-soaked meditation, and an extraordinarily long epoch of tempering,” General Tegra asserted, concluding his exposition on the hierarchy of human power.
Silence once again shrouded the Snow Horizon Arena. The wind howled softly. The youths lowered their heads, palpably feeling the crushing weight of General Tegra’s words seeping through their flesh and bone.
”Every second of your cultivation, every freezing drop of sweat, and every spilled splatter of blood shall dictate just how profoundly that Star Seal binds itself to your destiny,” General Tegra stated, concluding his opening oration. “True power is not a blessing handed down from the heavens, but rather the absolute yield of lunatic perseverance, suicidal bravery, and an iron resolve to pulverize fear. Whosoever among you is prepared to shoulder the burden of those lives, shall uncover their own path to godhood.”
At the absolute vanguard, Svara’s jaw clenched tight. She stared at General Tegra without blinking. I will absolutely climb to that zenith of immortality, Svara vowed inwardly. I will shatter every boundary and pierce the heavens to forge myself into a blade that protects my kingdom… and shields those I love.
General Tegra surveyed the youthful visages before him, his gaze softening marginally yet continuing to radiate the unyielding vigilance of a commander. Triggered by that oration, the Young Cultivators simultaneously bowed deeply in absolute reverence. Their hearts felt astronomically heavy with the cruel reality of the realm, yet their resolve blazed like churning magma. The endless journey toward the ultimate pinnacle, stretching even to the realm Beyond Immortal, had only just commenced today.
”In the subsequent phase, I shall lay bare the hierarchy of Star Monsters, your natural adversaries. If you harbor any doubts while I speak, you are permitted to inquire directly,” General Tegra announced as he began pacing slowly back and forth before the ranks of the young cultivators.
”Open your ears wide,” General Tegra’s voice deepened once more, echoing with crystal clarity. The glacial luminescence from the ice jewels reflected off his hardened visage as he glared piercingly at his disciples.
”The most foundational level… Spirit Monsters. These are Tier 1 monsters. Their cultivation lifespan ranges from one thousand to ten thousand years. Absorbing a Star Monster Core from this classification will yield a Silver-colored Star Seal foundation,” he explained while lifting a silver-glowing crystal seal artifact as a visual aid.
He paused his steps for a heartbeat, his gaze sweeping the entirety of the formation. “You must note that in the wild, there are countless Star Monsters under the age of one thousand years. However, only a monster that has successfully survived to touch its thousandth year possesses a brain capable of condensing a Monster Core. But, never allow yourselves to grow arrogant—even though they bear the label of Tier 1 and appear weak on paper, they possess a feral instinct capable of tearing you to shreds and chewing you alive if you let your guard down even for a fraction of a second,” he asserted with a threatening tone.
One of the youths in the middle ranks raised his hand hesitantly, his eyes trembling slightly. “F-forgive me, General… If they are merely the lowest tier of monsters, that means it would be exceedingly easy for us to defeat them in groups, would it not?” he asked cautiously.
General Tegra immediately snapped his head and locked his gaze onto the youth. His stare pierced sharply like an ice sword thrust directly into the solar plexus. The youth instantly shrank back and lowered his gaze in terror.
”Do you think this is a playground?!” General Tegra scoffed. “Even a single lowly Spirit Monster could butcher and devour your entire family in one night if you underestimate its fangs! Carve this warning into your skull: the most microscopic sliver of carelessness out there in the forest serves as the absolute key to unlock the gates of death,” the general declared, his voice striking the chests of the vanguard like a hammer.
Having ensured his warning had taken root, he continued with an unyielding, authoritative tone. “The subsequent level… Earth-Tier Monsters. They occupy Tiers 2 and 3. Absorbing their essence will yield a Blue-colored Star Seal. Their cultivation age spans from ten thousand to fifty thousand years. The primary characteristic of this race is: their anatomical structure is exponentially harder than pure steel. Ordinary slashes or strikes from mortal swords? They are absolutely meaningless against them,” he stated, clenching his fist tightly to simulate a violent impact.
In the front row, a short-haired maiden raised her hand with an incredibly grave visage, her furrowed brows radiating pure resolve. “If their defenses are truly that impenetrable… then what is the most effective method for us to pierce through and defeat them, General?” she asked, her voice resounding firmly despite her slightly tense shoulders.
A faint, utterly horrifying smirk crept onto the corner of General Tegra’s lips—a predator’s smile that never foretold anything pleasant for his disciples. “Are you truly that curious to find out how? Just make sure you can still gather your breaths after coincidentally crossing paths with one in the forest. That is my absolute answer,” he responded with a heart-wrenchingly frigid tone, plunging the ice arena into a suffocating silence.
A nervous, stifled chuckle briefly escaped from a few disciples in the rear, but the sound was instantaneously severed when General Tegra cleared his throat harshly, forcing every single gaze to snap back and lock onto him in absolute tension.
”We ascend to the next echelon of hell. Heaven-Tier Monsters. They occupy Tiers 4, 5, and 6. The cores extracted from their hearts will bestow upon you a Golden-colored Star Seal. The lifespan of this race ranges from fifty thousand to one hundred thousand years,” Tegra explained slowly.
”Listen to me very closely. Heaven-Tier Monsters do not merely rely on feral brawn. They are extraordinarily intelligent… and exceptionally cunning. When you are confronted with a battle against them, treat it as though you are engaged in a tactical duel on a chessboard against a tyrannical king who possesses a thousand trapping strategies to send you straight to the afterlife,” he elaborated. His tone was laden with crushing weight, visualizing exactly how lethal the intellect of such entities truly was.
The jaws of the disciples clenched synchronously upon hearing that exposition. Their imaginations began to be haunted by absolute terror.
General Tegra then lowered his intonation, making it phenomenally deeper, as if deliberately intending to carve a sensation of absolute dread coupled with profound reverence into the abyss of their hearts. “Now heed this with your very lives. Above the heavens, there exist living natural disasters… King-Tier Monsters. They dominate Tiers 7, 8, and 9. Absorbing their souls is the absolute prerequisite to acquiring a Blood-Red Star Seal. Their ages have swallowed the eras of history, ranging between one hundred thousand and five hundred thousand years. Their destructive yield defies logic; even a yawning King Monster is capable of leveling a densely populated human city with a single, casual sweep of its tail,” Tegra proclaimed loudly, successfully forcing the vast majority of his disciples to swallow a bitter lump in their throats.
”Th-then… do existences stronger than those city-destroyers still roam this realm, General?” The voice of a young cultivator at the very edge of the formation squeaked and trembled. The inquiry slipped out involuntarily, his nerves pushed far past their breaking point.
General Tegra stared intently at the disciple, his gaze exuding the freezing chill of an eternal glacial abyss. “Yes… a greater demon always exists,” he answered softly. The general then slowly turned his head, sweeping across the entire vanguard of disciples with blazing eyes that caused every hair on their bodies to stand on end simultaneously.
”The absolute zenith of the hierarchy… Emperor-Tier Monsters. Their cores yield a Red Star Seal luminescence that is two layers thicker and denser than a standard red seal. Their lifespans stretch from half a million to one million years, dominating Tiers 10 and 11. And… directly above their thrones…” General Tegra deliberately held his breath for a heartbeat, allowing sheer terror to seize the arena, “…reside the God-Tier Monsters. Entities aged one million to one and a half million years. They occupy the absolute Tiers 12 and 13.”
A deathly silence instantaneously devoured every single corner of the arena grounds. Even the howling of the northern wind seemed suppressed, leaving behind only an icy aura that pierced straight to the marrow.
”If you are cursed by destiny and forced to confront these God-Tier Monsters, only two absolute options remain for you: Drop to your knees and worship… or be completely annihilated and erased from the map of existence. Do not let your mortal brains ever, even for a fleeting second, dream of scratching, let alone defeating those monster gods single-handedly,” General Tegra declared with an unquestionable tone, pronouncing it as an absolute law of nature.
At the absolute vanguard, Svara swallowed hard. Her ice-cold visage was now deathly pale contemplating a monster millions of years old. “General… if the power of those entities is truly equivalent to that of gods, then does any existence in this realm possess the capability to stand up and defeat them?” she asked with a hoarse voice suppressing pure despair.
General Tegra tilted his head back, gazing far into the canopy of the ashen, icy sky. He exhaled a long breath, forming a thin plume of mist. He then lowered his gaze back to Svara, his eyes blazing like fiery embers amidst a glacier.
”Only someone who possesses the absolute lunacy to dare defy destiny… or someone who is willing to die embracing death while attempting to do so,” General Tegra answered with a profoundly heavy tone saturated with hidden meaning, echoing the unforgiving reality of the cultivation path into the ears of all his disciples.
”As auxiliary biological intelligence, every tier and evolutionary age of a Star Monster can be distinguished and tracked via the number of star-mark speckles engraved upon their foreheads. Furthermore, the luminescent color of the extracted Star Monster Core will perpetually synchronize with the aura color of the Star Seal you will eventually absorb and manifest,” General Tegra explained, concluding his theoretical exposition.
The veteran general unsheathed his broadsword and drove it into the ice layer with a cracking thud. “Now… I demand that you squeeze your blood a hundred times harder in elevating your cultivation power! Because starting this dawn, you are no longer snot-nosed brats practicing how to hold a sword merely to survive in the academy… you are trained here so that the civilization of this human realm does not face apocalypse and end up inside the maws of those monsters!” General Tegra roared, his thunderous voice striking the conscience and igniting a blazing inferno of resolve in the chest of every young warrior listening.
The young cultivators of the Ice Kingdom nodded, their chests puffed out. Their visages remained pale from terror, yet within the absolute depths of their pupils, a newfound resolve began to ignite and blaze. They were completely, acutely aware… the General’s military lecture today was absolutely no mere bedtime fairy tale.
It was a warning of the impending apocalypse.