Rune watched the slaughter from above, relishing with every soul extinguished as he searched the masses. Impatience gripped his chest like a vice. His focus kept dragging back to the tower behind him.
At the sudden sharp sweep of frost cutting through the ranks, Rune, at last, found Jorik.
The young King of the Everfrost cut down demons effortlessly with a scythe of ice, accompanied by his twin brother and sister as a trio of wintery wrath.
The demigod children of Jökull.
Inheritors of the power Rune had come to claim.
After ten years of endless maneuvering, it would be his tonight?—
A burst of light tore across the horizon.
Rune’s attention snapped upward as a comet of blue fire slammed into the battlefield, annihilating an entire unit of his forces in a wave of holy destruction.
Kahssiel.
The commander of the Seraphs descended in a blaze of cerulean light. Six pearlescent wings unfurled behind him like blessed mantles. Whole. Radiant.
The sightinfuriatedhim.
Cerulean light bled from Kahssiel’s eyes, his sword flaming in the same color with divine Seraph fire. At his side, a sorceressraised her hands, green flame twisting around her fingers, binding with his light. Their combined magic crashed through the skies, ripping Drakon from the air.
A legion of seraphs followed in their wake, golden armor gleaming beneath arcs of fire. Over the hills marched ranks of mages, elves, and fae flying flags from Arthal.
Rune snarled.
The Kingdom of Azure had sought reinforcements from across the seas. Sharp unease rose, reminding him too much of how sudden he’d lost the last war.
No matter.
He had his target.
Rune dove.
The Drakon struck the earth in a violent explosion of shadow and flame, the ground shattering beneath its weight. Rune stepped free, shadows coiling around him as he advanced toward Jorik.
The young Azure king faced him, silver armor streaked with blood, hatred in his ice-blue eyes.
Rune smiled as Noctharion bloomed in his hand. The cursed blade whispered in Hellspeech as crimson symbols ignited along its length.
“Hello, nephew.”
Jorik’s grip tightened on the scythe.“It ends tonight, Rune.”
Rune laughed softly. “I have heard those words before. Yet your clever mother needed Sunstone to stop me, an ore that is no more.” He tilted his head, feigning thought. “Which reminds me. Did I leave enough of your father’s favored mage for a pyre? The one who helped forge Sunstone. I forget what you called him...” Rune smiled sharply, letting the name drip slow and mocking. “Aero, was it?”
Jorik roared and attacked.
Exactly as he wanted.
Their weapons met with a force that cracked the ground. Ice and flame collided, magic twisting violently between them. The twins joined the fray, blades flashing, movements sharp and coordinated.
Then the twins joined the fray.
Sana struck from the left with a spear of enchanted bone and ice, her war cry sharp as wind on steel. Jalen came from the right, ice blades spinning. Together, the three demigods moved like a singular force of nature.
Skilled. Dangerous.
