Chapter XVIII – king of the frozen forest
Asad Al stepped through the wreckage like a storm given form. His armor, cracked and seething, pulsed with divine heat. Every movement bled radiance. Every breath bent the air around him. The jagged sword in his hand shimmered, its edge dripping molten gold.
Auron stood in his path.
The young warrior's body was a ruin of cuts and frost. His wolf-spirit shimmered faintly, a flicker of light behind his shoulders. The resonance of dual cores still burned inside him, gold and silver threaded through his veins, but every heartbeat came with pain sharp enough to break him in half.
He raised Vowkeeper all the same.
"Come then," he rasped. "Let's finish it."
Asad tilted his head, almost curious. "Finish?" His voice was calm, too calm. "You think this is a battle between equals."
Auron didn't answer. He lunged.
The first clash cracked the ground.
Steel met divinity. Sparks bled from the contact, scattering like stars over black sludge. Auron pressed harder, muscles screaming, Vowkeeper's edge grinding against the jagged divine blade
Asad barely moved. The strength behind him was inhuman, his stance unshakable.
He pushed, and Auron flew.
The younger fighter crashed into the mud, ribs snapping on impact. He rolled, gasping, and barely raised his sword before the next strike landed.
The air detonated around him. Every swing of Asad's blade carried the weight of a collapsing world. Auron ducked, dodged, countered, but each parry shredded his arms. Sparks tore lines through the night.
Lucian watched from the shattered ridge, horror freezing him in place. Every blow that missed Auron flattened the ground. The very air hissed under Asad's will.
Auron staggered, slipping on blood. Asad moved forward like the inevitable.
"Your spirit burns bright," Asad said, his voice echoing with a faint divine undertone. "But even light fades."
He struck again. The blade fell like a sun collapsing, golden arcs splitting the air.
Auron met the blow head-on.
The wolf roared.
Silver fire erupted from Auron's chest, the spectral beast's jaws materializing around him. The impact split the world in light and shadow. The ground ruptured in a wave of frost and heat. For one impossible heartbeat, Auron held him back.
And then a roar louder than sound of 1000 cannons tore through the storm.
Ursa came.
The primal beast slammed into Asad from the side, claws like frozen mountains. The divine champion staggered, his golden light flaring in protest.
Ursa's breath turned the air to crystal, frost racing across Asad's armor. The champion twisted, blade flashing, carving deep lines through the beast's chest.
The ground heaved. The valley screamed.
Auron rose again, every muscle screaming in rebellion. The wolf inside him answered Ursa's call. The resonance flared once more, and for the first time since the battle began, man and beast fought in harmony.
Ursa struck high, claws glowing blue. Auron struck low, his sword a streak of silver light. Their attacks met in perfect rhythm. The god and the mortal hunted together.
Asad laughed.
Golden light exploded from his body, flinging both back. He moved faster than thought, his blade a blur, parrying Ursa's claws, catching Auron's sword mid-swing, forcing the two of them apart.
Ursa roared and charged again. Ice erupted from the ground in spears and shards. Asad shattered them all with a single strike.
Every strike he delivered bled divine power, gold flame searing across the beast's hide. But Ursa endured.
that is when Asad realized
seeing Asad distracted auron darted in,
slashing through Asad's blind spot. His blade nicked divine armor. Gold blood spilled, sizzling where it touched the snow.
For the first time, Asad bled.
Then he vanished.
Auron had only a moment to react.
Asad reappeared behind him, blade already descending. Vowkeeper rose too late. The impact sent him sprawling, pain splitting his back. His aura flickered, breaking apart. The wolf spirit howled, torn from him.
Ursa charged to protect him.
Asad met the bear with his bare hand.
He caught the beast's claw and stopped it. The ground beneath them cratered. Golden veins spread through the ice, burning outward. Ursa bellowed and swiped with the other paw. Asad turned and drove his sword straight into the god's shoulder.
The frost king screamed, shaking the valley. A torrent of primal energy burst from his wound, freezing everything it touched. Asad pushed through it. Gold and blue collided, two colors of creation grinding each other to dust.
Lucian could barely see through the light.
He stumbled forward, clutching the broken hilt of his sword. The cold stung his eyes, but he refused to look away.
Somewhere in the chaos, he saw Auron dragging himself upright again, saw Ursa reeling, saw Asad walking toward them both like an executioner.
Auron's fingers tightened on Vowkeeper. He tried to rise again. His legs failed. He still tried. "Move," he told himself, voice raw, almost begging. "Move."
Asad's voice rolled across the field. "You have courage, little wolf. But courage without strength is defiance without meaning."
He raised his sword.
The world dimmed.
Ursa, broken and bleeding, forced itself between them. The divine blade met the beast's chest and stopped. For one heartbeat, all things were still.
Then Asad's weapon began to sink through.
Ursa's roar was no longer anger. It was mourning.
Lucian moved.
He did not think. He did not plan. He reached for the last spark of mana still clinging to him. Ice gathered in his hand, brittle and luminous. He shaped it into a shard, barely stable, pulsing with the same cold that now filled his veins.
He threw it.
The shard struck Asad's shoulder.
The divine light sputtered.
Asad turned, slow and furious. His gaze found Lucian, and for the first time, there was no calm in his expression. Only contempt.
Lucian stood in the ruin, frost spreading from his fingertips, blood freezing along his sleeve. "Stay away from him," he said.
Asad's blade lowered slightly. His voice was soft. "You interfere in matters beyond your birthright."
Lucian laughed once, hollow. "Birthright. You mean this curse in my blood? This thing that keeps me alive just long enough to watch my world burn?"
Asad said nothing.
Lucian's voice broke. "I've seen every man I respect fall tonight. Garrick's dying. Finn's gone. My men are ashes. I have nothing left but this." He raised his frostbitten hand. "If you want to kill me just end it."
The words echoed in the stillness.
Ursa groaned behind them, collapsing to one knee. Frost cracked across its body, spreading like shattered glass. Asad turned, gaze sharpening.
"Ah," he murmured. "I wondered why your kind still lingered."
Lucian frowned. "What is he saying?"
Auron tried to stand again, eyes wide. "Lucian. He means—"
Asad smiled faintly. "This creature carries the blood of the Olden Gods. Not their strength, but their echo. Their last breath. Divine inheritance left to rot in the wild."
He stepped toward the beast. "It will serve me better than it served you."
Ursa's eye flickered open. For a moment, Lucian thought he saw sorrow there—something human in the dying light.
Then Asad drove his sword into the beast's heart.
The explosion was silent.
Blue light bled into gold. The ground buckled. Frost turned to steam. The god's body convulsed, dissolving into motes of dying divinity. Asad raised his hand and absorbed every flicker of it. The gold of his armor deepened, burning now with threads of blue light; the colors of stolen divinity.
Lucian fell to his knees.
The sky itself seemed to dim. The stars vanished behind a haze of divine rot. Auron collapsed beside him, gasping, the wolf spirit flickering in and out of existence. The ground where Ursa had stood was a crater of molten frost, steaming and lifeless.
Asad stood at the center of it all, a god remade.
When he spoke, the words were final.
"The primal is gone. The old blood dies. And from its death, the new dawn begins."
He turned his gaze to Lucian.
And smiled.