THE GENERAL'S DISGRACED HEIR

[Intelligence has increased. Skill efficiency has increased by 58%]

[Soul Conversion successful: Devil's Bear has been transformed into an Aetenus-class familiar]

[Warning: Higher intelligence has unlocked advanced familiar manipulation]

The system's notifications cascaded before David's eyes as he faced Vespera across the blood-stained snow. The air between them crackled with raw power, each breath visible in the frigid atmosphere.

With deliberate slowness, he raised his hand, watching as the obsidian gauntlet covering it retracted like liquid shadow, flowing back into his armor with hypnotic grace.

Drawing his blade across his palm, he let drops of crimson fall onto the pristine white ground. Each drop sizzled as it touched the snow, steam rising in ethereal wisps. An ominous magic circle bloomed where his blood touched the ground, dark energy spiraling outward in intricate patterns that spoke of ancient power.

From its center, a massive form took shape – the bear, reborn. But this wasn't the same beast that had fought moments before. Its fur rippled with living shadows, eyes gleaming with otherworldly intelligence. Where once stood a creature of pure winter, now towered a being of nightmare and shadow. Each breath it took seemed to draw in the very light around it.

Vespera took an involuntary step back, her composure cracking for the first time. Ice crystals formed and shattered around her in rapid succession, betraying her agitation. "Who... what are you really?"

David's lips curved into a gentle smile, incongruous with the darkness surrounding him. The contrast between his soft expression and the eldritch horror he commanded was unsettling. "Just someone who made a promise to a little princess."

The words struck deeper than any blade. Vespera's composure shattered completely, rage and grief exploding outward in a tempest of snow and ice.

"YOU DARE?!" The storm around them intensified, becoming a howling maelstrom of winter's fury. The very air seemed to freeze and crack, shards of reality itself splintering in her wrath.

"Fetch," David commanded simply, the word carrying power in its simplicity.

The shadow bear lunged forward, its massive form cutting through the storm like a knife through silk. Its movements were impossible for its size – too fast, too fluid. Vespera's hand shot up, raw power condensing into a beam of pure winter's essence.

The blast caught the bear dead center, a column of absolute zero that would have frozen a lesser being's very soul.

The familiar shattered, fragments of shadow and ice exploding outward in a devastating display.

"Know your place, human," she snarled, triumph coloring her voice. "Don't underesti—"

Her words cut off in a wet gasp. Slowly, her eyes lowered to the long sword protruding from her chest, blood spreading across her white dress like a blooming rose. She hadn't even seen him move – hadn't sensed his presence shift. The blade glowed with an inner light that seemed to burn away at her very essence.

"You shouldn't have focused on a mere familiar," David's voice came from behind her, calm and measured.
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"I'm the one you should have been watching."

Vespera tried to retaliate, to summon her power, but David's white aura suddenly poured into her through the wound. The energy coursed through her like liquid sunlight, filling every crack and crevice of her being.

Yet something was strange – there was no pain, only a profound sense of warmth she hadn't felt in centuries. It reminded her of summer days long past, of a time before winter claimed her heart.

Tears began to fall from her eyes, freezing into perfect crystals before they hit the ground. "My little one... I'm so sorry." Her voice cracked with emotion centuries old. "I wasn't the mother you deserved. I let my grief turn to hatred, my love into a curse..."

As if in response to her words, a small figure materialized from the swirling snow. The princess, pure and radiant as the day she was taken, wrapped her ethereal arms around her mother. Her form glowed with a gentle light that seemed to push back the darkness.

"It wasn't your fault, mama," the child whispered, her voice like wind chimes in a gentle breeze. "You can rest now. You can let go."

Vespera broke down completely, centuries of ice melting from her heart as she wept. The storm around them gentled, snow falling soft and peaceful instead of razor-sharp and vengeful.

David tightened his grip on his sword, preparing to grant her final peace. The blade hummed with purpose, ready to sever the threads of her cursed existence. But before he could move, Vespera spoke again.

"Wait... I have a favor to ask."

"I'll make sure the Night King knows who sent me," David replied, his blade humming with purpose. He believed she wanted vengeance – a final message delivered to her ancient enemy.

But Vespera shook her head, snow-white hair swaying gently. Her next words shattered every expectation, every assumption David had made about their battle. "No... Make me your servant."

The words hung in the frozen air as David's eyes widened behind his helm. For the first time since their battle began, he found himself truly surprised. The sword in his hands trembled slightly, reflecting his momentary uncertainty.

For a moment, silence stretched between them, broken only by the gentle whisper of falling snow. The storm had died, its fury spent, leaving behind a battlefield of frozen ruins and crimson-stained ice. David's grip on his sword remained firm, but his thoughts wavered.

"Make you my servant?" His voice carried no emotion, only the weight of uncertainty. This woman had fought with the full force of winter itself, had sought to tear him apart piece by piece—yet now she knelt before him, asking to serve.

Vespera's breath was shallow, her once-magnificent presence dimmed by exhaustion. The glow in her eyes flickered like a dying flame, yet within them burned something deeper—determination.

"Why?" he finally asked.

Her lips curled into a bitter smile, one that spoke of old regrets and broken dreams. "Because I have nothing left to fight for... nothing but redemption." She raised a trembling hand, frost forming at her fingertips. "I have spent centuries drowning in hatred, in the cold embrace of vengeance. And yet... you shattered it, just like he did."

David's brows furrowed beneath his helm. "He?"

Vespera's gaze lifted to the heavens, where the sky stretched vast and unyielding. "The Night King," she whispered, the name coated in venom and sorrow. "He made me what I am... and then cast me aside when I was no longer useful. You are the first to break the chains he left on me."

David exhaled slowly.

The princess's spirit still lingered, her delicate form glowing like moonlight on fresh snow. She floated closer to her mother, laying a small hand on Vespera's shoulder. "She speaks the truth," the child murmured. "Mama was lost for so long... but she can still find her way."

David had faced countless foes, had slain without hesitation when the moment demanded it. And yet, looking at Vespera now—at the woman who had once been a force of nature, reduced to something fragile—he hesitated.

A moment later, he released a breath and lowered his sword. "Swear fealty to me, and I will hold you to that vow," he said at last. His voice was not unkind, but neither did it waver. "Betray me, and I will erase you."

A soft laugh escaped Vespera's lips, laced with exhaustion. "I would expect nothing less."