BLEEERRRGGHHH
Blood burst out from the lips of the impaled assassin, and Antares watched, bewildered, as each drop of blood halted in the air.
Then, they began turning into red frost crystals that hovered around the white-haired figure, whose hand had turned into the frost crystal pillar that had impaled the figure.
"If you plan on bringing an end to his life, you might as well lay down yours too..." The ice-cold, emotionless words rang out through Vlon's being—each word bitingly cold.
He watched as the frozen blood of his transformation turned into sharp bullets that pierced through him.
In an instant, his head was turned into a sieve, but instead of pain.
He felt numb.
A numbness that emanated from the crystal impaling his chest and slowly spread across his body.
It was cold, but silent.
Incredibly silent, with no pain, and soon enough, his entire body turned into cold statue, before the breeze blew and he was turned into frosty ashes that dispersed along with the it.
