The demon realm trembled as Lucian's forces marched toward the Frozen Wastes of Nyzareth.
A land of perpetual winter, Nyzareth was a barren expanse of ice and death, where even demons struggled to survive. Storms raged without end, blanketing the land in eternal frost, while glaciers towered like jagged teeth, their frozen surfaces concealing labyrinthine tunnels where Oryx's army lay in wait.
This was the stronghold of the Frostborn Tyrant, a fortress carved from the bones of fallen titans and sealed with ice infused with ancient magic.
And now, Lucian was coming for it.
March to War—The Arrival at Nyzareth
Lucian stood at the head of his army, the cold winds howling as he gazed upon the distant fortress.
At his side, Azrath spread his demonic wings, his dark eyes narrowing. "Oryx will not make the same mistake as Haizel. He will not fight in the open."
Lucian smirked. "Then we force him out."
Haizel stepped forward, the black chains of his oath still pulsing around him, a constant reminder of his submission. His golden eyes burned with quiet resolve.
"Oryx's strength lies not only in his army but in the land itself," Haizel said. "The blizzards will weaken our troops, and his warriors—the Frostborn Legion—are immune to the cold. If we charge blindly, we will be slaughtered before we reach his gates."
Lucian ran a hand through his obsidian hair, his crimson gaze locked on the distant fortress.
He exhaled, and in that moment, the very air around him darkened.
The shadows at his feet writhed. The land itself seemed to recoil as his aura surged outward, bending the world to his will.
"Then we change the battlefield," Lucian declared.
He raised a hand, and from the darkness, a maelstrom of fire and shadows erupted, spiraling into the sky like a second sun.
The very blizzards that guarded Nyzareth began to twist, their icy rage consumed by Lucian's growing power. The eternal frost cracked beneath his feet, and a new storm formed—one of fire and abyssal energy.
The ice that once shielded Oryx's fortress began to melt.
The demon lord of ice would soon be forced to act.
The Frostborn Legion Rises
Inside the heart of Nyzareth, Oryx watched in silence.
The massive demon stood over ten feet tall, his body encased in jagged armor of blackened ice. His glowing blue eyes were like frozen stars, filled with ancient wisdom and the promise of war.
The walls of his fortress trembled as Lucian's storm raged outside.
Behind him, his generals stood at attention—towering frost demons wielding colossal weapons, their bodies pulsing with raw elemental power.
One of them, a demon clad in ice-forged plate, knelt before Oryx.
"My lord… The invader comes. His fire burns away the storm."
Oryx's deep, rumbling voice echoed through the hall.
"Let him come."
He rose from his throne, his every step shaking the frozen ground. With a single motion, he unsheathed his colossal battle axe, its blade pulsing with a cold so absolute that even the air around it froze solid.
"He thinks to challenge the storm itself?" Oryx growled, his lips curling into a cruel smirk. "Then let him drown in winter's wrath."
He raised his weapon high, and the gates of Nyzareth thundered open.
The Frostborn Legion surged forth—a tide of white-cloaked warriors, wraiths of ice, and frost giants, their war cries merging with the howling wind.
The battle had begun.
Clash of Kings—Lucian vs. Oryx
The moment the Frostborn Legion charged, Lucian moved.
Like a shadow cutting through the storm, he vanished and reappeared in the midst of the battlefield, his sword flashing like a streak of crimson lightning.
One swing.
A dozen frost demons fell, their bodies shattered like brittle ice.
Around him, his army clashed with Oryx's forces. Haizel led the charge, his Ten Thousand Blades carving a path through the frozen battlefield. Azrath's wings spread wide, his demonic flames clashing against the biting cold.
But then—
A shadow loomed over Lucian.
Oryx had arrived.
Towering over him, the Frostborn Tyrant swung his battle axe with enough force to cleave mountains.
Lucian barely twisted aside, the impact splintering the frozen earth beneath them. The sheer force of Oryx's strike sent shockwaves through the battlefield, knocking demons off their feet.
Lucian landed gracefully, his sword wreathed in abyssal energy.
"Oryx," Lucian said, his voice calm. "Kneel now, and I will grant you the honor of serving me."
Oryx's booming laughter echoed across the battlefield.
"You mistake me for Haizel," the frost demon rumbled. "But I am not so easily broken."
He lifted his axe once more, and as he swung—
A blizzard unlike any before erupted.
The entire battlefield vanished in white.
Lucian's vision was consumed by frost, his body instantly enveloped in a cold so absolute that even his abyssal energy flickered for a moment.
From within the storm, Oryx's voice rang out.
"I am the storm."
And then—
A colossal fist of ice slammed into Lucian, hurling him back with earth-shattering force.
He crashed through the remains of an ancient ruin, the stone crumbling like paper beneath him.
Lucian exhaled, the cold burning his skin.
For the first time since the war began… he felt pain.
He smiled.
"This will be fun."
The battlefield was a storm of fire and ice, where the heavens trembled beneath the clash of titans.
The Frozen Wastes of Nyzareth, once a realm of eternal winter, had become a graveyard of shattered ice and smoldering corpses. Lucian's abyssal flames clashed against the Frostborn Legion, their bodies breaking like brittle glass beneath his overwhelming power.
And yet—
Oryx stood unshaken.
The Frost Tyrant loomed over the battlefield, his body a living fortress of enchanted ice. His every movement sent blizzards roaring across the land, freezing warriors mid-stride. His colossal battle axe, Frostmourne, pulsed with the unrelenting might of the tundra, each swing carving through the battlefield like a winter tempest.
Lucian rose from the ruins, wiping the blood from his lips. His body was already healing, but he could feel it—Oryx's strength was unlike any he had faced so far.
This was no ordinary demon king.
This was a force of nature incarnate.
Lucian's crimson eyes burned with dark fire. A grin curled his lips as he tightened his grip on his sword.
"Good," he murmured. "This will be interesting."
The Unbreakable Winter – Oryx's True Power
Oryx stepped forward, and with that single movement, the world itself seemed to kneel.
The land groaned under the weight of his aura, a crushing pressure that snuffed out the warmth in the air. Ice spread from beneath his feet, turning the battlefield into a frozen wasteland.
Lucian felt it immediately—the cold seeping into his bones, trying to slow his movements. Even his abyssal energy, which had devoured Haizel's flames effortlessly, found itself staggered by this unnatural frost.
Oryx raised his axe, and with a single motion, the skies themselves cracked open.
A massive ice storm erupted, freezing the very air into jagged spears that rained down like celestial punishment. Each spear was a weapon of pure destruction, capable of turning mountains into dust.
Lucian vanished, his form flickering through the battlefield like a shadow.
He dodged left, twisting in mid-air to avoid a spear the size of a tower. The ground erupted in icy shockwaves as the projectiles struck, burying entire legions under crystalline shards.
From the chaos, a massive frost giant lunged at him, its blade coated in chilling magic. Lucian barely had time to react before another spear came hurtling toward him.
But then—
A crimson flash cut through the storm.
Haizel appeared beside him, his Ten Thousand Blades technique dancing through the air. His swords deflected the falling ice spears, their impact sending resonating ripples through the battlefield.
"You're slow," Haizel smirked.
Lucian scoffed. "And you talk too much."
Haizel's golden eyes narrowed. "Oryx is using the land itself against us. If we don't move fast, we'll be buried in this blizzard."
Lucian closed his eyes for a brief second, letting his abyssal power expand.
Then—
A burst of black lightning erupted from his body, consuming the frozen air around him. His sword gleamed with an ethereal darkness, the very essence of the abyss curling around it.
"The land belongs to the strong," Lucian said. His voice was calm, yet it carried the weight of absolute authority.
"Then I'll make it mine."
Breaking the Storm – The Battle Intensifies
Lucian lunged forward, his form shattering the air like a phantom.
Oryx barely had time to react before Lucian was upon him, his abyssal sword striking downward with unrelenting force. The impact sent shockwaves rippling across the battlefield, ice and fire colliding in an explosion of elemental fury.
Oryx gritted his teeth, blocking the strike with his axe.
But Lucian was relentless.
His blade became a blur, striking from angles impossible to predict. Each swing distorted the air, creating phantom afterimages that assaulted Oryx from every direction.
For the first time—Oryx was forced to move.
He stepped back, his massive frame weaving through the battlefield with unnatural grace, his axe deflecting Lucian's attacks with precision.
The storm around them thickened, as if reacting to Oryx's growing fury.
"Enough," Oryx growled.
He slammed his foot into the earth, and in an instant, the battlefield transformed.
A wall of unbreakable ice erupted from the ground, separating Lucian from his army. Hundreds of warriors were frozen in place, their bodies turned into lifeless sculptures.
Lucian narrowed his eyes. He had underestimated just how deep Oryx's connection to this land was.
Before he could react, a colossal hand of ice formed behind him—
And then—it struck.
The impact sent Lucian crashing through miles of frozen wasteland, his body breaking through glaciers like a meteor descending from the heavens.
When he finally stopped, he found himself half-buried beneath a mountain of ice.
For a brief moment, silence filled the battlefield.
Then—
Lucian laughed.
The sound echoed across the frozen wasteland, dark and unyielding.
Even buried beneath the weight of an entire glacier, his laughter rang out, sending shivers through the battlefield.
"Not bad," he muttered, rising from the debris. His body cracked with abyssal energy, the frost melting away instantly.
But something had changed.
His crimson eyes burned brighter. The abyss within him churned, its hunger growing stronger.
He flexed his fingers, and in response, the shadows around him began to devour the ice itself.
Oryx watched from the distance, his expression unreadable.
Lucian slowly raised his sword, pointing it at Oryx.
"You made two mistakes," Lucian said. His voice boomed through the battlefield.
"First… You thought this land would protect you."
A pulse of darkness erupted from his feet, spreading across the battlefield like wildfire. The ice that once belonged to Oryx began to twist, turning black and corrupting into abyssal frost.
"Now, it's mine."
Oryx's eyes widened.
The eternal winter of Nyzareth had begun to change.
The Abyss Awakens – The Beginning of the End
Lucian took a step forward, and the very ground beneath him obeyed.
His abyssal aura coiled around the land, reshaping it. The ice storms that had once hindered his army were now a part of his power, bending to his will.
Oryx clenched his fists. "You… dare corrupt my domain?"
Lucian smirked. "Correction—my domain."
He vanished.
A heartbeat later, he reappeared before Oryx, his sword cleaving through the storm.
Oryx raised his axe, but this time—he was too slow.
Lucian's blade sank deep into his shoulder, the abyss devouring the ice that protected him.
For the first time—Oryx bled.
The Frost Tyrant's knees buckled for an instant, his immense strength faltering.
Lucian's expression remained calm, but his voice was filled with undeniable authority.
"Kneel, Oryx," he commanded.
The battlefield froze—not from Oryx's power, but from the weight of Lucian's words.
For a moment, it seemed as if Oryx would fall.
But then—he roared.
The storm surged once more, and the battle was far from over.