The Extra Wants Control

Verona raised a hand, and a shimmering ice sword materialized in her grasp. With a flick of her wrist, she vanished, reappearing a heartbeat later a dozen feet away, shrouded in a chilling darkness that swallowed the light. Even Nevaeh\'s enhanced vision could only discern the faint glow of her crimson eyes.

Nevaeh struggled to keep his bearings, a tremor of unease running through him. "But you…" he stammered, recalling the memory of Verona disintegrating a dragon with fire. "You said you had ice, space, and darkness elements. How did you use fire?"

Verona chuckled, the sound echoing eerily in the cavernous arena. "Ah, that was a mere parlor trick, child. I simply removed the cold from and around the dragon. To create fire, all I did was remove the cold property surrounding the dragon, allowing its own natural heat to rise unchecked, consuming it in an inferno.You see, temperature is just the degree of hotness or coldness.

Remove one, and the other reigns supreme."

The darkness lifted as abruptly as it descended, leaving behind Verona, her crimson eyes gleaming with a predatory glint. "This is why I emphasize on proficiency," she continued, her voice sharp. "Elements are versatile tools, but true mastery lies in how you manipulate them. Take your gravity affinity, for instance.

With enough practice, combined with your vampiric telekinesis, you could achieve pinpoint teleportation,you could essentially control the gravitational pull on individual atoms, rearranging them to your will and essentially teleporting objects or even yourself across vast distances. Maybe by affecting the gravity of a large area you can even tap into spatial abilities.

The point is you need to raise your proficiency and be creative."

A spark of understanding ignited in Nevaeh\'s eyes. "So, it\'s about creativity in manipulating your power?" he asked.

"Precisely," Verona replied.

Nevaeh\'s mind raced with possibilities. Teleportation, on a whim? But a nagging question surfaced. "What about you?" he asked. "What\'s your proficiency level? How strong are you?"

" Strong enough to be a Monarch~... Now on to important matters..."

Verona\'s instructions were simple: circulate his mana, draw it out, envision what he wanted to create. Nevaeh obeyed, focusing his will. A small spike erupted from his palm, but it wasn\'t the clear ice he expected. This spike was black, tinged with the darkness coursing through his veins.

It wobbled precariously, some fragments shattering on the floor, others defying gravity and zooming upwards towards the unseen coliseum ceiling.

Verona\'s laughter echoed in the vast space. "Impressive! Unintentional, but impressive nonetheless. You managed to draw on all your affinities at once. That\'s to be expected from my heir." Her amusement was fleeting, replaced by a demanding glint in her eyes. "But for the next two years, we focus solely on ice.

Now, try again."

Nevaeh steeled himself. He banished the surprise and embarrassment, pouring his concentration back into the task. Black spikes gave way to grey ones, some still floating erratically, others landing with dull thuds. Finally, a true ice spike materialized, a testament to his slow but steady improvement. He glanced expectantly at Verona, seeking a shred of praise.

Her response was a flat stare. "The structure is weak," she declared, her voice devoid of warmth. "Hollow. Do better." A flick of her wrist sent a razor-sharp ice needle hurtling towards his creation. The spike shattered with an earsplitting crack.

"We, the Isolde bloodline, are ice rulers," Verona continued, her voice laced with a chilling pride. "Our ice must be the pinnacle of perfection, something lesser beings can only dream of achieving. This is just the beginning, and you\'re taking far too long. In battle, every second is precious. Now, form a shield capable of withstanding the attacks I\'ll send your way.

And dodge them, because if they connect..."she trailed off, a cruel smile playing on her lips.

A snowball materialized in Verona\'s hand, and with a flick of her wrist, it hurtled towards Nevaeh. In a desperate scramble, he channeled his mana, forming a thick ice wall. The impact was deafening, the snowball exploding against the barrier like a miniature bomb.

The ice wall shattered, showering Nevaeh with ice shards. Pain, a constant companion in his training, ripped through him. But this was different, a searing agony that dwarfed everything he had endured before. Tears welled in his eyes, blurring his vision as another snowball materialized and launched his way.

Instinct took over. Shivering, Nevaeh conjured another ice wall, thicker this time. The result was the same – the wall shattered, the impact sending him sprawling. This brutal cycle continued, punctuated only by short breaks to replenish his dwindling mana reserves with Verona\'s blood.

Cause a one star can only have so much mana, it doesn\'t matter that he is a vampire that has a big reserve and can regenerate it quite fast eventually it will catchup. He is still weak and only a child.

Exhausted and battered, Nevaeh finally managed to stop a snowball. It wasn\'t a feat of beauty, but it held. A flicker of hope sparked within him, quickly extinguished by Verona\'s next demand.

" Make it thinner," she commanded. "But just as strong or even stronger. Cause we are royals everything thing that we do should be aesthetic. So stop making those messy ice walls make them thinner.And the attacks will get faster, stronger. I\'ll only stop when your shield can stop a three star attack."

Nevaeh gritted his teeth, a silent vow forming in his heart. He would endure. He would master this ice, this first step on a path paved with pain and power.

And so it continued. Day after agonizing day, Nevaeh formed and reforged ice walls, his exhaustion was removed by feeding moments of Verona\'s blood. Each successful block felt like a small victory, a testament to his growing control. But Verona never relented, constantly pushing him to his limits, reminding him that the journey had just begun.

The path to becoming an Isolde, an ice ruler, was paved not just with pain, but with an unwavering dedication to perfection.