Falling Snow, Erupting Ice: Clash of the Raging Flame and the Violent Storm

"Well," Knave Dhahaka mused as he looked over the frozen landscape, "I've had worse places to battle."

The young green-haired mage was standing atop one of the numerous large 'islands' of ice that had risen up from the also-frozen ground. The islands seemed to stretch out and extend for quite a distance, before reaching a massive mountain plane that extended to the horizon itself. Even on the massive pseudo-continents, the snow falling from the sky still collected, creating an odd white-on-blue effect that was pleasing to the eye but also somewhat blinding should you have arrived there recently. On top of one of the massive ice structures was a large castle, apparently also comprised of the crystallized water, though it was a distance away from where Knave had stood.

The marimo had broken off from his friends and companions once again, in order to take part in the battle that beckoned him every single year, a battle that had so far delivered upon him nothing but defeat. And yet, Knave felt no particular sadness or regret over his defeats and losses against other Dragon Slayers. It wasn't as if he had been defeated by someone he considered an enemy. If anything, he had just been disappointed that he hadn't made the cut, but it wasn't something he could entirely help.

If they were stronger than him, then they would move up.

And he would grow from the fight, in some way, shape, or form.

"Besides, I wanna see if I'll run into that guy again," Knave muttered as he put the small paper that had lead him to the location in his pocket. He quickly exhaled, unleashing a small jet of frozen air from his lungs and back out into the world, before looking upwards again and keeping his body poised like a spring, ready for an attack to come at any time.