Immortal Ice Empress: Path to Vengeance Chapter 798 Prime Disciple Competition: Freedom

Chapter 798 Prime Disciple Competition: Freedom

The atmosphere was thick with the stench of mold and iron. The cell's cold, hard stone pressed against Mira's back, chilling her to the bone. The heavy chains that bound her seemed to absorb the meager light, giving the room an even more oppressive feel.
Memories threatened to consume her, each a chilling reminder of the times she had been trapped, used, or betrayed.
These recollections from past lives were a cocktail of torment and desolation. In one, she was a captive 'noble', stripped and discarded. In another, a slave, sold and bartered like an object with no will of her own. Time and again, she had felt the biting steel of chains, both literal and metaphorical.
The Shadow Self's voice echoed, pulling her from her grim thoughts. "This is your greatest fear. The fear of being controlled, of losing your freedom. Of being reduced to nothing more than a pawn in someone else's game."
Mira clenched her teeth. Every instinct screamed at her to break free, to tear the chains apart and reclaim her autonomy. But she knew that this was not a mere physical challenge. It was a test of her spirit, her resolve.
She looked around the dungeon, the memories still looming large. Each moment of captivity, each betrayal, and each heartbreak was manifested in some form or the other.
At the far end of the cell, a mirror stood, reflecting her current state. But as she stared at it, the image morphed, showing her past incarnations, each bound, each defeated, yet their eyes still shone with resolve.
None of them could tolerate what was happening and wished for nothing more than to slaughter everyone responsible, yet they were powerless. Willpower and resolve can only take one so far when fighting against a god.
Rather, it just made her life worse.
"I won't be shackled again!" she growled, a fierce determination rising within her.
With a deep breath, she began to channel her Light affinity. Warmth spread through her limbs, countering the cold of the chains. With each memory she confronted, the chains weakened.
One chain shattered, releasing a vision of her as a young maiden trapped in a gilded cage, her freedom bartered for political power. She remembered the stifling confines of that life, the weight of the golden chains that bound her, heavier than any iron.
Another link broke, and she was in a bustling marketplace, her hands bound, eyes pleading for mercy as cruel men decided her fate. The humiliation, the despair, she felt it all over again, but she also felt a spark of hope, a determination that had kept her going.
As the chains continued to break, Mira felt a weight lifting from her heart. Each memory released was another step towards true freedom.
Her past incarnations' pain and suffering, while heart-wrenching, also served as a testament to her indomitable spirit. Time and again, she had risen, fought, and attempted to reclaim her destiny.
With a final surge of energy, the last of the chains shattered, bathing the dungeon in brilliant light.
Yet, when it all faded, she was still stuck in a cell.
It was still as cold and damp as before, perhaps even more so. It was to the point that even with her ice affinity, the frigid temperatures pierced her soul.
At some point, she heard steps echoing down the hallway, coming toward her location. For some reason, with every footfall, Mira felt a shiver run down her spine. Her face morphed into one of uncontrollable rage, as even without knowing anything about the person coming toward her, she knew.
She could feel that bastard's presence no matter where she was, even if she were dead!
About a minute later, a being in a white robe with silver embroidery appeared in front of her cell. The man had broad shoulders, a sculpted body, and a confident gait as if he were the most powerful person in the world.
She stared up to meet his eyes but realized that his face was blurry.
'...That's right.' She thought with her teeth clenched, and fists balled up. 'I've never seen that asshole with my own eyes before. Only his voice. I guess this is how my mind views him.'
Suddenly, the man spoke up in that ever-cocky, annoyingly confident voice. "Oh, Mira. Trapped again, huh? You know, all of this could be stopped if you just submit to me. I'll take care of you so you never have to suffer again."
Mira's eyes narrowed at the vague figure before her, the very tone of his voice igniting a furious flame within her chest. Her lips pulled back in a snarl, her reply laced with unadulterated scorn and disdain. "Submit? To the likes of you? I'd rather suffer endless torture than be in your mere presence."
His laughter reverberated through the dank, ominous corridors, sending shivers cascading down her spine, echoing hollowly within the confines of her mind. Yet, beneath the superficial layer of mirth, she could sense an undercurrent of sinister delight, a twisted form of pleasure derived from her agony.
"You say that now," he drawled nonchalantly, leaning casually against the cold, unfeeling bars of her prison. "But everyone has a breaking point, my dear. How long until you reach yours, I wonder?"
Mira's gaze never wavered, her spirit unbowed despite the chains of the past weighing her down. Each word, every insinuation he made, only served to fortify her resolve.
"Not until I have your head on a pike and your soul erased from existence." She retorted, a bloodthirsty smile filled with killing intent gracing her lips.
"Oh? You'll keep my head as a trophy even after killing me? How romantic~! I always knew you'd come around!" He chuckled lightly, treating her words as if they were a joke.
Mira's expression twisted in pure loathing at his attempt to make light of her words, the dismissive tone only serving to fuel her rage further. "Don't mistake my words for affection, demon. I know you're just a masochistic freak who gets off on others hating you."
"Well, hatred is often just a twisted form of love, don't you think?" The man mused, voice dripping with condescension. "One cannot hate so passionately without some form of attachment."
"Silence!" Mira snapped, her voice echoing through the stone walls of her cell. "I want nothing more than to get you out of my mind and move on with my life, but you're like a fucking parasite! Always there, always showing up just to let me know you're watching."
The echo of Mira's voice rebounded off the cold, dank walls, dissipating into the oppressive darkness surrounding them. For a moment, the space between them buzzed with tense silence, electric with the invisible current of their antagonism.
"Oh, how cruel your words are, darling Mira," the man mocked with feigned hurt, the invisible smirk audible in his voice. "Here I offer you comfort, relief from your perpetual suffering, and you respond with such venom. Have I truly earned such disdain?"
"Every ounce of it and more," Mira retorted acidly, her eyes glinting with the unwavering flame of her hatred. "You're nothing more than a sadistic leech, reveling in the pain of others. I will never submit to the likes of you, no matter how desperate my situation is."
Her voice trembled, not with fear, but with the incandescent fury building within her chest, a tidal wave of emotion ready to crash down upon the object of her ire. The chains of the past, her haunting memories, were burdensome, yet they also fueled her undying resistance, her determination to never bow before him.
The man sighed dramatically as if deeply disappointed by her refusal. "Such a pity. You could have had everything, Mira. Power, immortality, freedom from pain. But you choose to cling to your foolish pride, your meaningless defiance."
"And at what cost?" Mira shot back, her voice razor-sharp, cutting through the chilling air of the dungeon. "My soul? My conscience? I would rather endure a thousand lifetimes of suffering than lose myself to you."
The blurry visage tilted slightly as if considering her words, then chuckled, a sound that reverberated ominously through the cell. "Very well, my dear. If that is your wish, who am I to deny you? Endure your pain, wallow in your suffering. In the end, you'll see... you'll always be alone, with nothing but your precious pride to keep you company."
With that final, chilling pronouncement, the figure retreated, his form dissolving into the shadows until all that remained was the stifling darkness and the cold, unfeeling stone.
Mira's chest heaved as she struggled to regain her composure, the remnants of her anger still simmering within her veins. The man, the god, the demon, whatever he was, had left, but his words lingered, echoing in the recesses of her mind.
But instead of succumbing to despair, Mira felt an odd sense of liberation.
Yes, her path was solitary and arduous, filled with endless trials and insurmountable pain. But it was hers, and hers alone. Her pain, her struggle, her defiance—they were the essence of her existence, her indomitable spirit that refused to yield.
With renewed vigor, Mira rose, standing tall amidst the suffocating darkness. Her chains had fallen, her spirit unbound, ready to face the challenges ahead with unyielding determination and unbreakable will.
As she stepped forward, the dungeon around her seemed to crumble, the walls dissolving, the ceiling lifting, revealing a sky painted with the first rays of dawn. Warmth bathed her form, gently caressing away the chill of the cell, wrapping her in a soft, comforting embrace.
She was free.