Chapter 213: The Battle of The East (2)
Krax Von’El walked through the heart of his stronghold with measured steps, the heavy soles of his boots striking the earth in a steady rhythm.
Around him stretched his sprawling fortress of rough stone and timber, its walls lined with the banners of the barbarian’s that had once carved out dominance across the Eastern Continent.
Dozens of Titans strode through the throngs, their towering forms and sheer presence enough to keep the lesser warriors in check.
Still, even their formidable stature couldn’t quite chase away the heavy tension that clung to the stronghold, hanging over it like a dense black cloud.
The atmosphere was tense and fragile, the kind where every word felt like it might shatter the air.
Conversations faltered and faded entirely whenever Krax walked by, leaving a silence in his wake.
People’s eyes followed him, caught between loyalty and an unspoken, uneasy dread.
Everyone felt the same pressure, even if few dared name it aloud.
Over the past decade, the Blackwood Kingdom had methodically undone nearly everything the barbarians had built.
During their earlier conquest of the Eastern Continent, the tribes had taken land without establishing a civilization pit or binding themselves to any formal oaths, the way the Academies had.
That lack of structure had left them exposed.
And what had once begun as them constantly pressuring the Blackwood Kingdom... that had changed drastically.
The Blackwood Kingdom had begun to go on the offensive, absorbing or erasing every remaining faction one by one.
What made the humiliation sharper was knowing it had never been a full army.
All of the damage had been dealt by a single man—the King of Blackwood himself.
Melvin Blackwood.
Krax’s jaw clenched as he made his way across the central yard, his black hair swaying faintly with each step.
"I just don’t get it..." he muttered, his voice thick with frustration. "How in the hell... do hundreds of thousands... no, millions of Barbarians fail to take down one king?"
The weight of disbelief settled in his chest like a stone, heavy and unmoving.
It seemed almost as if they had watched the Blackwood Kingdom dismantle everything he had built, and the fact that Melvin had done most of it alone still felt like an insult that refused to fade.
However, before he could pursue the thought further, a series of urgent system messages bloomed across his vision.
[Mission parameters have changed.]
[Immediate Emergency evacuation protocols now active.]
HUMMMMM!!!!!!
He barely had time to process the words of his system.
In that same moment, the System moved into action.
Massive ripples of warped space shimmered around each Titan positioned throughout the stronghold. In quick succession, the towering figures disappeared in muted bursts of light, whisked away before any had the chance to utter a single word.
The sudden disappearances sent a ripple of confusion through the barbarian ranks.
A barbarian froze with his hammer still raised.
"The Titans... where did they go?!"
Another warrior near the armory spun in place, eyes wide.
"Since when can they teleport?"
Voices clashed in a jumble of confusion, echoing through the air as men and women froze, abandoning their tasks mid-motion.
Weapons hung loosely in half-ready grips, eyes darting wildly as if searching for something that was no longer there.
The Titans’ absence carved an unsettling void into the stronghold’s defenses, leaving a gnawing sense of vulnerability in its wake.
Krax’s frown tightened, his jaw set as he muttered under his breath, each word edged with tension.
"System.... What is going on?"
Even though he asked, and the system knew exactly what was coming, the answer still didn’t arrive in time.
HUMMMMMMMM!!!!!
One moment, the stronghold was in chaos, thick with lingering tension.
The next, winter swept in like a quiet verdict.
There wasn’t a slow slide into chill, no hint of a breeze to signal change.
The air just shattered, sharp and sudden. In an instant, a blinding, pure cold surged outward, filling the space in a single heartbeat, and with it came the deadly stillness.
SHKKKK!!!!!
SHKKK!!!!!!
In that moment, invisible swords—countless, precise, merciless—swept through the ranks.
Barbarian heads left their shoulders in clean, simultaneous arcs, the severed flesh freezing solid before the bodies could even begin to fall.
Blood turned to glittering red ice mid-spray.
Men who had been shouting a second earlier became headless statues locked in their final postures.
Others were sliced through the torso, the waist, the legs; the cuts froze the moment they opened, leaving entire groups standing as incomplete, crystalline corpses.
In the space of a few breaths, the central yard transformed into a growing cemetery of ice.
Bodies stood frozen where they had been cut down, weapons still raised, mouths still open, eyes wide with the last fragment of shock.
Frost raced across the ground in branching white veins, climbing walls and banners until the entire stronghold lay under a silent, glittering shroud of eternal winter.
Krax stood alone in the midst of it all, encircled by the frozen dead.
His voice lowered, carrying a rough, growling edge.
"System... what the hell is going on?"
At the main entrance of the stronghold, a single figure stood waiting.
Melvin... the King of Blackwood, held his sword loosely at his side.
The Dreamer’s Mask sat crooked on his head, tilted slightly to one side.
He regarded the frozen courtyard with mild, almost detached interest, then slowly tilted his head the other way as if examining a piece of work that had turned out exactly as expected.
A new system window appeared before Krax.
[Frostheart Physique (Above Origin) (Tier 1/21) - This skill has three stages. At the first stage, the user gains +5 Battle Power for one month.]
The System’s voice followed, stripped of its usual calm.
[Host, prepare for a battle unlike any you have faced.]
-----
Melvin strolled ahead at a leisurely pace, his boots leaving faint marks in the crisp frost.
When he spoke, his voice carried the steady confidence of a decision settled long ago.
"You know... the winter has never been loud. It just shows up... and eventually, it’s gone."
WHOOOOSH!!!!!
Before the last word had even fully left his lips, he burst forward into a run, sword held low, his body slicing through the frigid air like a blade fresh from its sheath.
ROARRRRR!!!!!!
Hearing those words and the warning from his system, the Titan blood in Krax’s veins began to boil.
A raw, furious roar burst from his chest, fueled by the sudden realization that he would have to fight for his life.
Without hesitation, he charged at the approaching figure, power crackling around him in a violent surge.
In the same instant, Melvin reached up with his free hand, straightened the Dreamer’s Mask until it sat correctly across his face, and vanished from sight as though the winter itself had swallowed him whole.