What would be your first thought when you hear the word "Tempering" from a system message? For me, I thought of tempered glass. The thing is, tempered glass is not strong because it has many layers. It is made strong because it is heated up and rapidly cooled, putting the outer surface under compression so it does not shatter easily. The process makes it tough, almost unnaturally so, even if it still breaks in a certain way.

Ice, in theory, should not behave like that. Ice normally becomes brittle when pushed too far, but the frost in this world was anything but normal. If anything, I hoped this tempering would build me in the same way, forging me until even Hera's strike could not scratch me. But let's be honest. How was I supposed to survive something like that myself?

My gaze moved across the chamber. This room looked older than anything I had ever seen, like it had been carved when the world was still young. Ancient markings covered the walls, faint and nearly erased by time, symbols of a past so old that even history forgot it. The ice was thick, packed with ages of pressure, old enough to carry memories of entire eras. Whatever waited for me here would be either unbelievably epic or something that would crush me into dust.

I still preferred the idea of a spa and some tea. Tempering the mind sounded far more relaxing than tempering the soul. Guess that dream was not happening today.

The green flames began to dance around me and Beelzebub. They were strange flames, cold instead of hot, burning with frostbite instead of heat. They twined through the air like living ribbons, graceful and deadly. Their glow painted the walls in emerald waves, making the chamber feel alive, as if breaths of frozen wind were exhaled from the stone itself.

Beelzebub's eyes were wide, too wide, and I felt fear tighten my chest. Hamsters were delicate. In real life they could die from being startled too much. This world was real too, but the rules were different. Still, the sight of him suspended in cold green fire made me panic inside. He was trying to stay brave. Hopefully, this one truly had the courage of a tiny warrior, because we both needed that now.

The cold-fire wrapped around me slowly, moving with the quiet confidence of something that already owned this place. It touched my ankles first, then slid higher like icy fingers choosing their path. It stung in a way that felt sharp and personal, like frostbite carried on wind with intent. Each strand seeped into my skin, pulling itself along my veins with a silent determination.

It was not simply touching me; it felt as if it was entering me through every single pore, becoming a part of me.

The tempering was beginning.

And from the way the flames tightened around my limbs and chest, this was not the gentle kind of transformation.

It hurt. More than words could ever capture. If someone took a living body and plunged it into liquid nitrogen, the shock, the freeze, the instant bite of death closing around the nerves would probably feel close to this. The cold-fire crawled through me in slow waves, carving into the soul itself.

[Progress: 1%]

The system's screen flickered to life, its numbers ticking forward with a cruelty that felt almost deliberate. I felt the green fire seep deeper, as if it wanted to claim every part of me. I tried to inhale, even tried to scream, anything to release the agony, but my lungs would not obey. The pain was numbing and excruciating at the same time, a cruel paradox that made my knees tremble.

I forced myself to remain standing.

[Progress: 2%]

Ten minutes might have passed. Or maybe an hour. Time twisted here into chaos. When the number finally changed, I almost cried. The system felt different in this place, as if the cave suppressed its voice until it was needed. It watched me quietly, probably aware that if it stayed silent too long, I might really die.

The cold-fire sank deeper. I felt every muscle fiber in this fragile body being shredded apart, frozen to the point of fracturing, then rebuilt again with brutal precision. The sensation was unbearable. Then it happened again. And again. Each reconstruction felt stronger, sharper, cleaner, but the process clawed at my sanity.

At some point, I stopped counting the seconds. They no longer mattered. My mind drifted into a haze of pain and survival, floating between breaths that would not fully come.

When the progress finally crawled to twenty percent, I could barely comprehend the number. My vision pulsed white. My thoughts slowed to a crawl. The green fire wanted more. It wanted everything. This tempering was not meant to be tolerable. It was meant to break people, crush them down and remake them until only the strongest pieces remained.

I wanted to say it was enough. I wanted to force the process to stop. But the system did not listen. It did not care that I was on the edge of collapsing. It had no empathy, only rules.

The only reason I was still alive at all was because of this vampiric body, and because the ancient bloodline Beatrice possessed refused to shatter. Only that lineage held me together while the green flames kept tearing me apart.

And I knew this was only the beginning.

By the thirty percent mark, something changed. Finally, a breath of breakthrough inside this madness. My heart began to beat in a rhythm that matched the flames, as if the pulse of the green fire was sinking into my flesh and syncing with my own. Each beat felt heavier, fuller, almost molten in its pressure. Power flooded my veins, filling them like liquid crystals.

My fragile muscles strengthened in a way that did not add bulk, only density. Every fiber felt more defined, sharpened, almost reborn. My sense of smell grew keener than anything I ever knew, sharp enough to catch the faint scent of the cold-fire itself.

It smelled like morning dew on a cold autumn day, that crisp sweetness that bites the nose and soothes the mind. Even my tongue felt different. My taste sharpened so dramatically that I knew blood would become a far more complicated matter. I might even grow picky, which was a nightmare on its own.

My wings tingled. I could not see them well from this angle, but I felt the faint stretch in their membrane, a subtle growth, barely noticeable yet undeniably present. I wanted to confirm it, but all I had was a half-instinctual understanding that something had shifted.

By the forty percent mark, my skin hardened. The pain of the ice-flames no longer tore me apart like before. The cold still hurt, but in a distant, muted way. Almost like my nerves were being coated in frost from the inside to make them endure it better. I felt more grounded, more balanced, more aware. Every sound echoed clearly. Every breath of green flame wrapped around me felt like an old friend brushing a hand across my cheek.

Then the halo behind me ignited.

I felt its pulse clearly this time, a steady thrum that vibrated through my spine, like a second heart had opened just above my shoulder blades. A warmth that was not warm at all circled me, and deeper still, around my chest something stirred. A small flicker, the tiniest green flame awakening and gathering itself like a seed deciding to sprout.

It pulsed once. And for the first time in this tempering, I felt a hint of awe instead of pain.

By the time the system reached the fifty percent mark, everything inside me collapsed at once. The brief moment of clarity vanished, swallowed by a tidal wave of pain that tore through my veins like shattered glass carried by a flood.

The green flames that had softened turned feral again, biting deeper, burning colder, twisting every nerve until I could barely understand what my own body felt like. It was as if the tempering decided I had grown too comfortable and now wanted to remind me of my place.

My knees buckled. My hands trembled violently against the invisible force holding me up. I would have fallen to the ground if the tempering allowed movement. Every muscle felt flayed open. Frost crawled under my skin, threading itself into the roots of my bones, carving pathways that had never existed.

Then, somewhere beneath my ribs, the flower stirred. A single pulse shook through my core, and the frost responded.

Energy surged around that blossoming crystal inside me with such force that the flames around my body recoiled. The room darkened. The frost brightened. The cave felt like it hollowed out, bending inward toward the impossible amount of frost gathering inside my chest.

The flower bloomed again with green light spilling from my chest. And everything inside me felt ready to explode.

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