Chapter 39: The Goddess's Trial: Part II

###Chapter 39: The Goddess's Trial: Part II

The moment Icelyn's sword clashed against her replica's, the battlefield trembled. Ice cracked beneath their feet, sending jagged fractures across the frozen ground. The air shimmered with frost, their breaths visible in the numbing cold.

Icelyn gritted her teeth and pushed forward, straining against the overwhelming force of the divine blade blocking her strike. But no matter how much strength she put behind it, her replica barely flinched.

Then, with a single flick of her wrist, the replica shoved Icelyn back, forcing her to stumble across the slippery surface.

Before she could regain her footing, a gust of freezing wind shot toward her.

Icelyn barely managed to leap aside as a barrage of ice spikes erupted from the ground, piercing through the space she had just occupied. The force sent shards flying in all directions, grazing her arms and legs as she landed on one knee.

"Damn it... This isn't working."

The replica wasn't just using the goddess's sword—it was wielding it flawlessly. Each attack carried overwhelming precision, as if the blade itself was an extension of her body.

Meanwhile, Icelyn held a simple, worn-out sword, and every strike she attempted felt sluggish in comparison.

Her opponent wasted no time. In a blur of motion, the replica lunged at her, the divine blade gleaming with cold light.

Icelyn barely had time to react. She raised her sword just in time to block, but the impact sent her skidding backward.

She's faster than me.

Another attack. A diagonal slash aimed at her chest.

Icelyn dodged, rolling across the icy floor, but the moment she got up—

A burst of ice shot from the replica's hand, wrapping around her ankle.

Her body tensed as she felt the cold chains snake up her leg, locking her in place.

Her replica stepped forward, raising the divine sword above her head, ready to strike the finishing blow.

Icelyn's heart pounded.

"At this rate—"

"I'll lose."

"No."

She clenched her jaw. I'm not done yet!

With all her strength, she swung her blade down at the ice binding her leg. The old sword barely made a dent in the thick frost, but it was enough. The moment the structure weakened, she forced her body sideways, twisting with enough force to shatter the ice just before the replica's blade could connect.

She rolled away, gasping as she barely escaped death.

She needed to find a way to counter her replica's attacks.

Because right now—

She was just surviving.

Not fighting.

The Battle Rages On

Minutes passed. Then more.

The battle continued with no sign of slowing down.

Icelyn dodged. Blocked. Parried. Every movement felt like an uphill battle, every second spent avoiding death.

Her replica was relentless, giving her no time to rest. Every time she tried to go on the offensive, the divine sword struck back harder, forcing her to retreat once more.

And the more they fought, the more exhausted she became.

Sweat dripped from her forehead, freezing almost instantly upon contact with the air. Her hands trembled from fatigue, her muscles screaming from the relentless movements.

Meanwhile, her replica remained untouched.

Unbothered.

A perfect version of herself, showing no signs of exhaustion.

Icelyn exhaled sharply, stepping back once more. She was running out of options.

She glanced at her opponent's sword.

It belonged to her copy.

Or at least, it did right now.

The goddess had said it before.

The sword wants her.

Icelyn's grip tightened around her old blade.

I've been thinking about this all wrong.

This wasn't a test of strength.

It wasn't a battle of endurance.

It was about proving herself.

The weapon would only accept the better wielder.

And if that was the case—

She had been playing into her replica's strengths this entire time.

Icelyn exhaled, calming her breath.

Her stance shifted.

No more reckless slashes. No more desperate attempts to overpower her opponent.

This time, she would fight smarter.

Her replica charged once more, aiming for a clean strike to her side.

Instead of dodging outright, Icelyn sidestepped smoothly, the blade missing her by mere inches.

The replica turned to attack again, but this time—

Icelyn had already moved.

Her footwork became lighter, her movements sharper. She no longer fought head-on. Instead, she redirected her replica's momentum, forcing her into awkward angles, using positioning to create openings.

A faint flicker of hesitation crossed her replica's face.

And then—

Icelyn saw it.

A flaw.

Her copy fought perfectly—too perfectly.

Every strike was calculated, precise. But it lacked adaptability.

That was the difference between them.

Icelyn could change.

She adjusted her rhythm, her technique shifting mid-fight. Where her replica followed strict forms, Icelyn moved fluidly, her attacks unpredictable, her counters sharp.

And soon—

The goddess's sword wavered.

Icelyn felt it—the shift in energy, the uncertainty creeping into the divine blade.

The sword no longer wanted her replica.

Because Icelyn had proven herself superior.

And then, the final strike came.

Her replica aimed for her heart, a straight, decisive thrust.

Icelyn didn't panic.

She moved.

A sidestep. A graceful twist.

And then—

Their swords switched.

Icelyn now held the goddess's blade, and power surged through her veins.

Her replica's eyes widened, realization setting in. But it was too late.

Icelyn slashed.

A single, perfect strike.

Her replica shattered into a million fragments of ice, disappearing into the cold void...

Silence...

Icelyn stood alone, the divine sword glowing in her grasp.

She had won.

She had been deemed worthy.

And as the battlefield faded around her, she heard the goddess's voice—

"Well done."

The scene shifted back to the teacher, his footsteps echoing as he walked away from Icelyn's fallen form. But then—

A pulse.

A deep, resonating hum filled the air, and a brilliant blue light erupted from her.

The teacher froze mid-step. His breath caught in his throat as a swirling aura of light blue energy coiled around Icelyn, crackling like flames. The very air trembled. It was different from before—stronger, fiercer, as if the power was no longer just within her… but awakening.

She now stood there. Unshaken. Unyielding.

Then—it was there.

The Goddess's weapon, suddenly in her grasp, with no sign of how or when it appeared. It simply was.

The teacher's breath hitched.

"She was dead just a minute ago… what happened? And where did that weapon come from?"

A bead of sweat trickled down his temple.

This was different.

This was something beyond what he had expected.

Icelyn exhaled slowly, the blue light in her eyes shimmering like the stars themselves.

She looked at her hand, tightening her grip on the divine sword.

All of the techniques—the precise strikes of her replica, the footwork, the techniques—everything had been burned into her memory.

Every movement, every stance, every technique was now hers.

This wasn't just borrowed power.

It was her own.

Her gaze lifted, meeting the teacher's eyes.

No more hesitation.

No more doubt.

The celestial hero had awakened.

And this battle was far from over.