I regressed and became the Sword Ice King

Arcanus was the last member of the Twelve Great Families and generally acknowledged as the weakest.

The reason, had been a fit of rumor spread through the public to satisfy the hunger of curious citizens.

A swirl of rumors that barely scratched the truth.

A household blessed with Dark Mana – or better still, cursed by it.

Dark Mana was referred to as a cursed form of Mana.

Nature's energy mixes with Miasma to give an uncut form of mutation, termed Dark Mana.

At the time, at least a hundred years ago, Dark Mana users were persecuted.

This included Dark Mages and every form of occult groups that made use of the energy.

System Users and Non-system Users alike.

Naturally, this manner of treatment reached the Arcanus Household. A family of naturally adapted Dark Mana Users.

Its constant use was once a cause for severe physiological and psychological trauma with their Users. But they were different. Exempted.

A class of their own in the Occult.

They didn't just pry in the use of dark mana. They dwelled in it.

Strengthened by a forbidden strength.

An abominable energy from the result of an unlawful mixture of Mana and Miasma.

They were scorned for it. Hated for it. Despised for it.

Made a public enemy through careful words from the King.

Dragging their name through the mud and their people with it.

Still, their powers amounted to mere trinkets.

Far from reaching those of the other Great Families.

The foundation of their strength was in the process of building, unlike many others who were born with it.

The Arcanus Household were a family of builders.

Slowly paving their way to greatness.

Fostering spells and techniques that would foster strength.

Secretly building their army of undead from scratch. Mere materials.

Little by little. They built. They grew. They passed down.

Generation after generation grew stronger. Not by being born into it, but by mastering and furthering the nature of their abilities.

For years, they hid their true nature. The true abilities of the Arcanus from the Great Families and the Royal Family.

They chose patience over retaliation. Persecution was a mere challenge they thwarted down. It was simply a slight bump in their determinations. Goals. Aspirations.

A future that they all wished for.

The prodigy of their family who would repay the world for what it had done to them.

A persecutor of their persecutors.

That was Sophie's goal. Her purpose. Her will.

The last living child of the Arcanus Household, which bore secrets untold.

She was the embodiment of their repressed rage towards the King.

Their fury towards the Great Families for turning a blind eye.

She would pay it back to them. Twice fold.

But all these were matters unknown to the public. Leaving only sparse information on the Fallen Family.

Mila seemed to have pieced it together, but even she wasn't entirely sure she was right.

There were many Necromancers before her. Many who used strange powers that cost blood. Powers that caused absurd phenomena.

They were different in that aspect. Completely so from the other Great Families.

Exempted just as the Jun household in both peculiarity about their human physique and natural aptitude for strength.

And the Undead summons? These were specific to a certain bunch, now including the Arcanus.

Mila's thoughts had been broken. Shattered from the constant assault that paved through her bones.

For a second, she had nearly forgotten about her predicament.

The constant drain that seemed to have plunged her since the chains had bound her.

They weren't distinctively tight nor restrictive.

It was just wrapped around her ankles and arm.

Prepared to cause harm when necessary, yet giving her enough room to fight back.

It was absurd – confusingly deliberate. Mocking.

Like she was being toyed with, and she had to admit.

She didn't have any way of proving she wasn't.

With slow breaths, she glanced down at the chains.

Curling her fingers around it as she raised it halfway in the air.

Observing the glowing runes that shimmered across it. The eerie glow of something dark tugging at the cells. Locking it against itself while a vast amount of energy was tied within it.

These were no ordinary chains. And she was sure of it.

As she focused her attention on the chains, attempting to peer into the iron tool, a click echoed in her ear.

A snap from the distractions she had immersed herself in.

But perhaps it was her own way of finding a breather in the one– sided battle.

It shouldn't be this way.

It couldn't. There must be something she was missing.

She turned towards the direction.

Three figures forming a blur of humiliation in her retina.

It startled her. Humbled her.

A silent sigh escaped her lips. Her arms dropped the chains as she bent low and picked up her katana.

Her lips were torn. Armor cracked. Crevices forming on her scaled face and body. Bits of lava seeping from the crevices like an opened wound. Though, they were.

She curled her neck shut as they locked gazes. Her frail lips cracked into a grin.

"Am I wrong?"

Sophie froze on the spot. Her gaze staring Mila over. Observing. Watching. Calculating.

Then, with a click of her tongue, she shook her head.

"Why does it matter where I come from?"

"Why wouldn't it?" Mila snapped right back. Her voice dropped to a low venom. "It doesn't matter if your household is a fallen one. The Arcanus is still one of the Great Families."

Mila cackled. A sarcastic, mocking one. Dripped in the pool of venom that gnashed her bones.

"Why else would you beat me to this Level?" She paused. Tilting her head to the side. "You fight me like you know how to handle me. The chains. The Undead. The constant brutal assault. You're trying to wear me down. Let me fall prey to unconsciousness."

Then her eyes opened. Slowly.

A realization that nearly made her head go blank.

"So that…..he will take over."

Silence.

No one needed an explanation here.

It was simply there. Evident.

If Mila were to go unconscious. Broken by the constant assault on her body and mind was just a start.

The strange chains that seemed to suck in something from her. Something sane. Something real.

Yet, when she tries to find what it was, a filter appears, and she's deterred.

Forced to turn a blind eye.

She bit down on her lips.

It couldn't be true. No one was that conniving. That desperate to take control – to make her give it up.

She had been staring down for a while. Locked in the storm of her thoughts.

But clarity came to her as she looked up.

Locking gazes with her captor.

Sophie stood in front of her, an inch away. Eyes locked onto her like a predator of the skies. Glowing with shades of lilac and something deeper. Darker. Firmer. Malevolent.

She was trouble. That, Mila confirmed.

"Great Family or Fallen Family. You are all the same. Birds of a feather. Born with a power that should have never been yours.

Gifted to be great from the start."

Sophie tilted her head. Silence hanging like a thin thread. Ready to snap at any given moment.

She sighed.

A heavy one.

Then she shook her head and walked back.

"We are not the same." She said,

Simple, yet carrying the weight of years of silent suffering over her shoulders.

"We. Are. Better."

Maxillan and Minillan walked past her. A gentle breeze following their movement.

Calm. Steady. Dangerous.

They stood in the presence of Mila.

Staring down at the once remarkable Demonic Queen.

She was queen no more. Drained. Battered. Broken. Reduced.

A former glory hanging like loose petals on a withered flower. Sweeping easily, into the slow breeze.

With a low growl, Maxillan asked.

"What are your orders, My Liege."

Sophie sighed as she turned around. Her shoulders slumping slightly to the sides. Tension drained from her body like dust.

While her mana replenished itself. Slowly.

She had expended it. A Lot of it.

More than she had projected, but that didn't matter.

The results had been finalized. She is the victor.

"The Chains of Depravity will work better when we lock her at the Castle. Take it there."

Mila's brows arched at her statement.

Not because of the command, but because of the name.

'The Chains of Depravity?' She wondered. Glancing down at it once more. 'These chains….do they repress the powers of a Demonic Human?'

She recalled that strike.

The beams of darkness that had struck her twice.

Each causing a similar burn.

One that invaded her system like poison gas. Messing with the flow of Miasma within her while dealing heavy damages to vessels and organs.

The pain had been bearable once.

Manageable the second time, but perhaps worse if used a third time.

She wasn't about to find out, though.

Mila whipped her head back up. A sudden spark within her chest.

"You want something from me?" She yelled. "What is it?"

Sophie stopped.

Tilting her head back at her.

The air thundered at that moment. Portals appearing in the skies and on land. A dark purple hue festering on their surfaces.

Mila looked around confused. Her startlement soon resolved as she watched the army of undead walk into the Portals.

Departing from the battle.

Her chest tightened at the sight.

A slight smudge of a smirk threatening to escape.

Her attention was drawn back to Sophie.

"Well?"

Sophie stayed silent. Her face, a mask of indifference. Composure in its raw form.

A second passed. Then a minute.

Soon, Sophie turned away.

"You will find out when you get there."

Maxillan and Minillan closed the distance at that moment.

Forming a pillar of darkness that hindered Mila's focus on Sophie.

Forcefully drawing her to their presence.

Her face tensed. A firm glare aimed at them. A bit of a warning as they grabbed onto her.

Ready to fulfill their master's wishes.

But Mila wouldn't let them –

A crack ripped the air.

A sudden slice of Miasma rushing out of her body like a frantic fire in the Savanna.

Rushing. Frenzy. Growing.

It exploded in a mighty wave of demonic energy.

Causing a sudden blast of power that shoved the two Undead Champions back.

They landed on their feet. Standing in the presence of their Master, who turned towards Mila.

Tendrils of white. Surges from the wind that blasted from the source, dispersed into the skies and blew furiously against the world.

They stood against it. Anchored to the ground.

Her expression contorted between amusement and surprise.

"The chains are supposed to weigh her down."

"It seems she had saved up the last bit of energy for a final attack." Maxillan replied.

"What is your command?"

Sophie watched for a few seconds. Calculating.

This wasn't an unresolvable issue. After all, she still had many cards yet to be used, but her thoughts slowed her down.

Made her impervious to her surroundings and caused her to miss the slight movement at her side.

"I will take care of it, myself."

The voice came like a dagger. A sharp bite to her spine as she snapped towards the direction. Eyes flaring open in shock.

Thalia stood. Firm.