I Am a Hero With A Hundred Abilities

Linyae lay on the frozen ground, a fine mist of snow swirling gently around her. Her usually composed eyes widened—just barely, but enough.

Surprise.

She felt it for the first time.

"Someone actually landed a blow…"

She had fought many opponents—peers, rivals, even other Overlord family scions—but none of them, not a single one at her level, had ever touched her.

Yet here and now, this girl—Sophia Lancaster—had done what even the elite of her clan had failed to do.

Something stirred in her chest.

It was faint, unfamiliar—like the flicker of a candle in a long-frozen cave.

"Excited…?"

The moment the thought formed, she crushed it—emotion was imperfection.

She smothered it ruthlessly, as she had been taught. There was no room for warmth in the Sora Family. No room for cracks in the ice.

She stood up, her movements graceful and silent.

Sophia didn't attack her while she was down.

Linyae's cold gaze narrowed.

"Is this some sort of warrior's code…?"

"Or is she looking down on me…?"

But her thoughts were interrupted.

"Why don't I feel any intent from you?"

Sophia's voice echoed in the icy ring.

Linyae turned to her, her face expressionless—but her attention sharpened.

"In all my years of battling," Sophia continued, "I've never faced someone who doesn't emit any intent. It's like I'm fighting a… statue. A weapon without a soul. An inanimate object."

A crack formed not in the ice, but in Linyae's composure.

For the first time, she spoke—not to activate an ability.

Just words.

"Shut up and die."

Her voice was sharp and brittle, wounded pride cloaked in frost.

In a blink, she activated another ability.

Ice surged around her body, forming into a gleaming ice armor that coated her from neck to toe. A sword of pure frost formed in her hand, its blade emitting a chilling hum.

"Who is this bitch to call me inanimate…?"

"I'm not empty…"

"She's going to die in my hands."

For a brief second, even Linyae herself didn't realize what had happened—

Sophia had touched an insecurity she didn't know existed.

Sophia smiled—not mockingly, but with genuine fire.

"That's better."

"Now I feel like I'm fighting a real person."

The temperature dropped again. The ground cracked. The air trembled with two opposing auras—

Sword Spirit vs. Frozen Perfection.

Neither waited. Neither flinched.

They charged.

Steel and ice clashed mid-ring, the second round of their battle erupting in a beautiful storm of raw power and sharpened resolve.

****

As Sophia and Linyae collided once more in the heart of the ring, the clash of ice-forged steel against blade-like hands echoed like thunder through the arena. Their strikes were relentless, their movements precise, each attack a calculated display of skill honed through years of training. Yet there was more than just technique in their duel—

There was beauty.

There was fury.

There was a storm born of silence and steel.

Their footwork was flawless, weaving across the frozen battlefield like dancers in a deadly ballet. It was not chaos—it was choreography. And as they moved, cracks began to spider across the ring, the enchanted ice groaning beneath the pressure of their battle.

Linyae's breaths quickened. Her chest rose and fell with effort.

For the first time in her life, her heart thundered in her chest—not from fear, but from the exhilarating tension of a true fight.

"Is this… what it feels like?"

"To go all out… to crave victory with everything you have?"

The thought made her press harder, her sword slicing the air in elegant arcs.

But as her ice blade met Sophia's sword-like hands, the truth became clearer.

Linyae was good with the sword, she had trained in different sword techniques and most importantly she had refined them to sooth her.

But Sophia was different she didn't have training alone her ability was centered around the sword and how to make it better.

So each time their weapons met, a spiderweb of cracks etched across Linyae's Ice Armor. The buffing effects of Frozen Sanctuary—once her greatest edge—were failing to keep up with Sophia's overwhelming offensive pressure. Linyae knew this.

"But I won't stop."

"I won't lose."

"I—"

A brutal strike cut through her thoughts—Sophia's hand struck her chest, shattering the last layer of her ice armor with a resounding crack and sending her hurtling backward.

And before she could regain her footing, Sophia was already there, blinking into place beside her midair.

Her hand—sharp and focused—came down toward Linyae's neck, the final blow ready to end it all.

In that moment, Linyae thought:

"So this is what it feels like to lose…"

"It… totally sucks."

Just before the hit could land, her body vanished in a shimmer of cold light—teleported away by the arena's automated fail-safe, triggered when a participant was no longer able to continue.

Sophia's hand struck the air where Linyae had been, the wind howling from the force of the blow.

A heartbeat of silence passed.

Then, the announcer's voice boomed across the arena.

"The match is over!"

"The victor—Sophia Lancaster!"

The viewers erupted in a mixture of cheers and gasps, but Ethan, watching from above, simply grinned.

And far below, standing alone in the remnants of shattered ice, Sophia slowly lowered her hand, the ghost of a smile playing on her lips.

The duel was over.

But something far greater had been awakened—

In Linyae… and in the arena itself.

****

As Sophia stepped back into the stands, her breathing steady and her expression calm, Ethan walked toward her, hands in his pockets, eyes sharp with curiosity.

"You could've ended the match the moment you broke through her defense," he said, voice low but firm. "Why didn't you finish it then?"

Sophia didn't look surprised. Ethan always had a way of seeing through her—cutting through layers of thought as if they were paper-thin.

She looked out at the now-frozen, cracked arena, then said softly,

"I saw someone bound by what others expected her to be."

Ethan said nothing, he just listened.

"And I thought," she continued, her voice steady, "maybe I could help her escape that cage—even if just a little."

A moment of silence stretched between them. Then Ethan exhaled, a small amused breath escaping his lips.

"That's all noble and all," he said, "but that's not the only reason."

Sophia turned to look at him, one brow slightly raised.

"You just wanted to mess with whoever made her like that and make their years of hard work mean nothing."

"Now that Linyae's tasted what real excitement feels like there's no more going back."

Sophia didn't deny it. She simply smiled, the kind of smile that carried no apology, only quiet conviction.

Ethan shook his head with a faint chuckle, his expression somewhere between exasperation and admiration.

"Still… you looked damn good out there."

Sophia shrugged, her voice light as she replied,

"Thanks."

At that moment, the announcer's voice boomed across the arena once more.

"And now… the next match is about to begin!"

Sophia and Ethan turned their attention back to the battlefield—where new names would be called, and new battles would be fought.