A GOD'S WAY OF JUDGEMENT

17-Women are dangerous

Celia remembered the first time she met Ronan. She had been five years old, clutching her mother's hand tightly as the Ashcroft and Arcanveil families gathered for a formal meeting. Their parents were deep in discussions about alliances, but to young Celia, it was just another tedious event where adults droned on endlessly.

Her mother leaned down, a gentle urgency in her voice. "Celia, take Ronan to play with you and Dante. His parents will be occupied for a while." Celia nodded, noticing the boy beside his parents looked anything but engaged. With his messy dark hair and an expression that seemed carved from stone, Ronan appeared distant, as if the world around him were merely a nuisance.

When Celia and her brother Dante tried to draw him in, Ronan remained silent, sticking close to his twin sister, Liviya. The four children wandered into the sprawling garden, but it quickly became apparent that Ronan wasn't interested. While Liviya mingled and laughed with the newcomers, Ronan lingered in the shade of a tree, a silent observer.

"Why don't you come and play with us?" Celia asked, approaching him with a mix of curiosity and frustration.

Ronan didn't even lift his gaze from the branch he lounged on. "I'm not interested in playing with kids."

Celia raised an eyebrow, arms crossed defiantly. "Aren't you a kid?"

"My age says so," Ronan replied flatly. "But I'm smarter than most adults." His tone was matter-of-fact, devoid of arrogance—just cold honesty.

Irritated by his indifference, Celia kicked the tree hard. Ronan yelped in surprise, losing his balance and tumbling down to land with a dull thud on the soft grass.

He glared at her, brushing leaves off his clothes. "Why did you do that?"

"Because you're boring," Celia shot back, folding her arms smugly. "Now come with me. I want to show you something."

Ronan narrowed his eyes, suspicious yet intrigued. Without a word, he stood and trailed after her through the garden like a reluctant shadow.

That day marked the first time Ronan had ever followed anyone besides his sister. Not long after, their parents made a fateful announcement:

"Ronan and Celia," their mothers declared, "will be engaged to each other."

From that day forward, her life had been irrevocably tied to Ronan's—whether she wanted it to be or not.

The battle raged across the frozen expanse of Antarctica, their breath visible in the frigid air. Ronan stood still, his aura dark and suffocating, watching Celia as if he were calculating her every move. He raised his hand to the sky.

High above, the heavens rippled—like the surface of a still lake disturbed by a stone. From that tear in reality, a brilliant red light streaked downward, carving through the sky with the precision of a hunter's arrow.

"System," Ronan's voice was a low growl, "Summon Gungnir."

The air trembled under the weight of his words, as if the universe itself bent to his will. With a deafening crack, the weapon descended—a polearm forged from celestial metal, its surface gleaming with ancient runes that pulsed with malevolent energy. It spiraled toward Ronan, slamming into his outstretched hand like it had been destined for him.

Celia's eyes widened in shock. It's coming from above... just like last time.

In one smooth motion, Ronan hurled the spear toward Celia. It sliced through the freezing air, glowing red-hot against the icy landscape as it plummeted like a meteor from the heavens.

The moment of impact came faster than Celia could react.

Boom!

The force of the strike sent her hurtling backward, her body skidding across the ice until she came to a jarring halt. Pain radiated through her ribs, and the freezing ground bit into her skin like a thousand needles.