In the waters just off the coast of Shandia on Wind Island, a demon made its home. Its name was the Blizzard Kraken—a squid-like monster possessed of a singular, terrifying ability.
Within its frame lay an organ that generated intense cold in response to magic power. Whether hunting or being hunted, the creature used this power to flash-freeze the surrounding seawater, launching massive blocks of ice to crush its foes. Yet, these monsters had a natural predator: the Magic Armor Beasts known as Golden Clubs.
Encased in mighty shells, the Golden Clubs ignored such amateurish frost. For them, the Blizzard Kraken was more than mere prey; it was the focal point of a sacred rite. To hunt one was to prove the strength of one's carapace—to demonstrate that one had truly come of age.
Among their kind, the one who brought down the largest Blizzard Kraken in the swarm was crowned leader. Those Krakens that survived long enough to reach titanic proportions grew their cooling organs in tandem with their size, becoming catastrophic threats. Reports spoke of human-sized specimens freezing entire bays, trapping fishing fleets in instant glaciers. To defeat such a beast required a shell harder and more resilient than anything found in nature.
However, Poruru, whose own carapace had once been shattered by a Clear Plate Magic Armor Beast, had undergone a transformation that defied natural limits. To prove his growth to his family—and, above all, to repay his benefactor—he had challenged the ritual. He returned having slain a Blizzard Kraken of unprecedented size, a monster the likes of which history had never recorded.
Even Carlos, a veteran weaponsmith of many years, had never seen its equal. He extracted the massive cooling organ and forged it into his ultimate masterpiece, a project years in the making. Thus, the Silver-white Ice Spear Grace Lance was born.
As Marcos accepted this new power, infused with the very souls of Poruru and Carlos, the sheer magnitude of the radiating magic power and cold took his breath away.
"Such incredible frost... such power! So this is the strength of Poruru and Lord Carlos!"
The sheer weight of that power shook him to his core. Feeling the gravity of the trust placed in him, Marcos exhaled slowly and turned to Poruru, who had regained his footing.
"Poruru, I'm sorry to ask this of you, but please protect the others. With your shell, this man's flames shouldn't be more than a nuisance."
"Kani!" the crab chirped.
Leaving the defense to his loyal friend, Marcos stepped forward, wielding the silver-white spear and golden shield in tandem. Across from him, Burn had finally neutralized the ice on his arm with his own fire, his eyes fixed on Marcos with renewed malice.
"Now then," Marcos declared. "Let's reset the board. The real battle begins now."
"Ha! You think so?" Burn sneered. "The 'real' battle? Don't get cocky just because you picked up a new toothpick. You're still protecting baggage, which means nothing has changed!"
In Burn’s mind, a new weapon didn't change the fundamental equation. As long as hostages stood behind Marcos, the boy would be forced to play the shield. He unleashed a torrent of fire toward Melt and the others, expecting Marcos to break his stance. But this time, it was Poruru who stepped into the path of the inferno.
"Kani-kani!"
"Tch! You damn crab! Stop getting in my way!" Burn snarled.
He was reaching his limit. Even a Golden Club couldn't withstand a focused barrage forever. He would just have to turn the creature into a roasted crab. But just as he prepared to launch a follow-up strike, a voice cut through the heat.
"Where exactly are you looking?"
"Wh—?"
Burn’s body moved before his mind could process the threat. The spear, radiating a lethal chill, whistled past his head. A thin line of blood appeared on his cheek, only to be instantly frozen solid. Before he could even register the wound, his instincts screamed at him to retreat, and he leapt back to put distance between them.
Wait, what happened? What just happened?
In the split second his attention had flickered toward Poruru, Marcos had closed the gap. Burn had assumed the massive shield and spear would make the boy's movements sluggish, but the reality was the exact opposite.
No, that wasn't the point. The method didn't matter. The problem was the sheer, overwhelming pressure Marcos was now exerting. It was leagues beyond anything he had shown previously. Until now, Marcos had a crippling flaw: he could only act after absorbing an attack. As Ryuga had once pointed out, his combat style was entirely reactive. Without magic power stored in his Giga Scissors, he posed no threat.
Burn had exploited that weakness, using the hostages to keep Marcos trapped in a cycle of defense. He had controlled the flow of the battle by keeping the boy on his heels. But that dynamic was dead. Now, Marcos held a weapon that could freeze flesh and fire alike with the slightest touch.
Hey... hold on...
The realization finally dawned on Burn. He was facing a nightmare. One-hit kill firepower. Impregnable defense. And now, above-average mobility that remained entirely unhindered by his heavy equipment.
As he looked upon the completed warrior, Marcos Borg, Burn felt his heart turn to ice despite the flames licking at his skin.
How am I supposed to kill something like that?