THE 3rd CHAPTER - THE INTER - CONTINENTAL LEAGUE

"When destinies collide, a clash and a romance somehow is inevitable."

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YEAR 2098, MONTH OF JUNE, 21ST DAY

AURORA FALL ARENA, DENVER, USA

The Aurora Fall Arena in Denver vibrated with energy. Elemental wards shimmered faintly along the ceiling, stabilizing gusts, shifting ice, and subtle wind currents. Everything calibrated to Tier 2 environmental magic. Tonight's intercontinental invitational was a rare spectacle with Chicago's Frost Titans versus Moscow's Volkov Ice Dynasty, a pre-World Cup battle of strategy, skill, and controlled magic. Scouts, media, and fans packed every tier. Sparks from magical gear flickered like fireflies before the wards muted them, leaving only tension and roar.

Lian Mateo Alonzo-Kensington, 20, squatted at center ice, the wind-laced skates whining softly. His heartbeat synchronized with the elemental hum of the rink, every breath misting inside his helmet. Alongside him, Ethan Carter's fire danced along his sleeve and Damien O'Connor's electricity crackled along his stick. The second line teammates, Nolan Bishop, Kai Tanaka, and Jared Mitchell, weaved on the ice, their eyes bright and prepared in case the first line faltered.

“Don't blow it, Kensington,” O'Connor said playfully. “That man over there is Demidov. The ice itself kowtows to him.”

"Shut the hell up, Damien," Lian snapped, smirking. "If I die tonight, it's on you."

Carter chuckled. “Dying, my ass. Just don’t let that prick get under your skin. He’s slippery as a shadow, I’ve seen him on TV.”

Tanaka clicked his tongue and muttered something in Japanese about reckless idiots; Mitchell merely shook his head and checked his gloves.

Across the rink, Yaroslav Demidov, 25, adjusted his helmet. Jaw tight, his eyes cold like Siberian ice, he exuded calm as a predator. His first line, Alexei Vasiliev and Dmitri Ivanov moved in perfect sync, speaking sharp Russian commands.

“Посмотри на этого парня, черт побери,” Ivanov muttered. (Look at that kid, damn it.)

“Он слишком быстрый, но глупый,” Vasiliev replied. (Fast, but dumb.)

Demidov didn't answer. He never did. But Kensington's reckless confidence stirred something unfamiliar inside him. He pushed it aside as he conditioned himself to focus.

The announcer's voice cut through the tension:

“Ladies and gentlemen! Welcome to the Aurora Fall Arena, Denver! Tonight, the Frost Titans of Chicago take on the Volkov Ice Dynasty of Moscow! Skill, strategy, magic, and sheer audacity collide! Prepare yourselves for a Tier 2 spectacle!”

The crowd erupted as banners waved and sparks glittered. The ARC representative stepped forward in robes trimmed in silver and black, clutching a clipboard.

"Players, coaches, and spectators," he announced, his voice crisp. "All magical output is monitored. Allowable magic includes speed enhancements, minor elemental effects, and protective auras. Teleportation, offensive spells, and reality-altering magic are forbidden. Overuse initiates temporary mana freeze. Penalties: minor infractions, two minutes; major infractions, five minutes plus a point deduction; severe infractions, ejection and review.

He gestured at holographic runes hovering above the rink. "Tier 2 arenas include environmental effects: wind gusts, shifting ice. Adaptability, strategy and teamwork decide who will emerge as victor. A nonmagical prodigy such as Demidov will be judged based on skill and safety alone. Enjoy the match.

The puck had dropped.

THE FIRST PERIOD

Lian charged forward, wind-enhanced strides carrying him past Morozov and Fedotov. O'Connor zipped alongside, electric streaks tracing his stick as Carter flarng fire along a passing lane.

“Fuck me, he’s fast!” Ivanov shouted, chasing Lian.

“Stay the hell on him!” shouted Vasiliev.

“Focus, assholes!” Demidov muttered, intercepting a pass intended for Carter.

Lian turned and skated backwards, smirking. "Still got a bone to pick with me, huh? Calm the fuck down, old man."

The voice of the announcer then resounded as he spoke once more, "What a faceoff! Frost Titans' magical synergy against Demidov's precise, non-magical skill! See the young prodigy Kensington take on Europe's disciplined master!"

Sparks of ice and fire flickered as the first lines collided. A tricky Alexei Vasiliev feint tried around Chicago's fourth-line wingers, Tyler Nguyen and Evan Santos, but Kensington's wind-assisted speed cut the angle, and Damien intercepted in a streak of electricity to redirect the puck to Carter, who's brief flare of fire sent dazzling oohs through the crowd.

Volkov's second line came in smoothly on rotation, Nikolai Zharov, Mikhail Sokolov, Andrei Kuznetsov, the latter checking Kai Tanaka into the boards to free Nolan Bishop up to adjust and cover. Chicago's third line then burst in for hard support, Rico Delgado, Marcus Flynn, Owen Phillips hitting back with collisions against Igor Lebedev, Pavel Orlov, and Viktor Smirnov in turn. Ice arcs shimmered under elemental effects as sparks flew.

“Christ, he’s everywhere!” O’Connor muttered as Demidov anticipated a lateral pass with surgeon-like accuracy.

"Shut your fucking mouth, idiot," Kensington snapped, pivoting with wind-assisted agility.

Ivanov exclaimed in Russian. “Сука, этот молодой ублюдок!” ("Damn it, this young bastard!")

Goalie Eliot Bennett held Chicago's net with ice-barrier precision, parrying a blistering slap shot from Demidov. Viktor Petrov mirrored him, catching fire-tinged pucks with glove work that seemed almost mechanical.

THE SECOND PERIOD

Of course,Tier 2 Arena had been spellbound in variable gusts, which delicately interfered with the puck's trace. Threading a pass to O'Connor, Kensington watched as Demidov pivoted mid-arc and picked off his pass with speed.

“Fuck, he’s a ghost!” O’Connor said under his breath, teeth clenched.

Lian muttered under his breath, "Keep your goddamn mouth shut, O'Connor and focus!"

Morozov and Fedotov made up the defensive wall against Kesnsington's breakaways, while Pavlov and Karpov blocked passing lanes as Egorov and Titov anticipated openings. Lucas Reed and Sebastian Cross built ice shields, while Julian King and Isaac Moreno flashed bursts of lightning and fire. Omar Vega and Nathaniel Brooks did the lateral coverage to keep Demidov's maneuverings in order.

The crowd was thundering on every near-goal. Every rotation of lines was a choreography of elemental skill and precision, with the ice itself responding to the magic oozing from the players.

THE THIRD PERIOD

The final period exploded into bedlam-eruptions of fire arced across the ice, while strings of lightning and streaks of ice lit up the arena. Kensington tried a solo rush along the boards, barreling into Demidov's perfect block. Helmets cracked as their eyes met mid-stride, and something sparked between them, neither understanding the hum that reverberated beneath their skin.