As he ascended to the skies once more, a barrage of messages began to flash in Uriel's peripheral vision. Shimmering icons appeared in rapid succession, accompanied by metallic and magical sounds:
[You dealt 100 damage!]
[You dealt 85 damage!]
[You dealt 73 damage!]
[You dealt 200 damage — critical hit!]
[You dealt 91 damage!]
[You dealt 68 damage!]
[You leveled up!]
[You leveled up!]
[You leveled up!]
But Uriel didn't notice.
His eyes were glazed over, his breathing heavy, veins pulsing with an ancient fervor. Something inside him roared louder than the system messages — something primal, wild… perhaps the dragon blood burning in his veins.
He spun in the air with majesty, muscles tightening, his eyes glowing an even more intense blue. Then, with a voice like thunder tearing through the clouds, he shouted:
"ATTACK!"
And then came the roar.
Not a common roar. This was the world itself being challenged. The dark clouds trembled. The sky seemed to crack. The earth shook with the reverberation of the power contained in that voice. It was the call of war. It was the call of a king.
Uriel spread his wings once more and, without hesitation, bellowed:
[Ice Dragon's Breath]
The beam of glacial energy sliced through the heavens like an inverted lightning bolt, descending upon the lizards with the fury of an absolute winter. The impact swept through an entire row, instantly freezing dozens of creatures, turning the battlefield into a glittering cemetery of petrified scales.
Atop the walls, Eskandor was panting. For a moment, a chill ran down his spine. But it wasn't fear. It was excitement. Something inside him pulsed with a mad urge to fight, to scream, to charge into battle like a man possessed. It was strange… seconds ago, he was mapping escape routes. Now, he wanted to crush lizards with his bare hands.
And he wasn't the only one.
All the ice giants, who had hesitated before, now clenched their fists, growling, eyes glowing with fury. It was as if a frozen flame had ignited in their chests. Something was calling to them. Something was guiding them.
They didn't know — but they were under the effect of the Title: King of the Ice Giants, a powerful passive ability that compelled their bodies and hearts to obedience, even if their minds didn't realize it.
Eskandor raised his sword and shouted:
"COME ON, YOU SCALED IMBECILES! THE GREAT KING WILL USE YOUR BONES AS TOOTHPICKS!"
And he was the first to charge. As always.
His armor clinked on his shoulders, his cape billowed behind him, and his voice rose with increasingly exaggerated bravado:
"THE BATTLE'S ALREADY WON! NOT EVEN THE GODS DARE FACE OUR SOVEREIGN! DIE, YOU STUPID LIZARDS!"
The giants running beside him gave him sideways glances. None said anything — they were equally driven to battle — but it was impossible not to feel a touch of secondhand embarrassment. One even muttered to another:
"Did he really have to shout… all that?"
But they followed. They all followed.
Because in that moment, even without understanding why, fighting alongside Uriel felt like the only possible path. The only truth.
And the battlefield, once gripped by fear, now pulsed with icy fury. The true power of the king was beginning to reveal itself.
Uriel soared above the battlefield, a feverish light in his eyes. Each beat of his wings cut through the air with rage, and with every second, more and more enemies fell before his [Ice Dragon's Breath], which left a trail of freezing death on the ground.
But then, something different happened.
At the center of the enemy formation, a group of lizards clad in black robes and ritualistic armor began to gather. They formed a circle around a bluish stone that pulsed with arcane energy. Their voices rose in unison, chanting in a forgotten, guttural, and dissonant tongue:
"Ma'Zhaal Vur Tek'non! Kaath'zer Meliak! RAAGH-FERON VAK-TUH!"
The words seemed to vibrate in the air like daggers. Black flames began to swirl around them as purple thunderclouds gathered above. Demon-colored fireballs formed in the conjurers' hands. Black lightning danced like furious serpents.
Uriel saw them, and for a brief moment, hesitated.
He could fly away. He could escape easily before the spells were completed. But he didn't.
A wild smile appeared on his face. His eyes sparkled with a spark of defiance.
"Heh... perfect time to test my scales."
With his chest puffed with pride and stubbornness, he remained in the air, wings spread wide and imposing. His [Ice Scales] began to glow with a faint bluish light. The air around him chilled instantly. Magic pulsed through every scale, surrounding him in a translucent shield of defense.
And then… the impact came.
The first fireballs cut through the sky like meteors, followed by crackling bolts of lightning that exploded against his body. The sky lit up like a second sun, trembling with the unleashed power. It was as if the entire world had launched its wrath at Uriel.
The pain came… but not like cuts or burns.
He felt his mana being drained rapidly. The scales weren't just protecting — they were absorbing the magic, converting it, resisting with everything they had.
"Tch… this is draining me… way more than I expected."
Uriel gritted his teeth. His body held on, but inside, he burned like a volcano about to erupt.
The whole sky became an explosion of elemental light. The entire battlefield looked up, believing he had been destroyed.
The lizard mages smiled for a second.
But then… hell turned against them.
CRAACK!
Several fireballs and lightning bolts reflected by Uriel's scales fell back with double the fury. The ground exploded in flaming columns. Thunder shattered the conjurers' defenses. Screams, cracking bones, and the stench of burning flesh filled the air. Many mages were annihilated before they even realized what had happened.
And then, amid the bluish smoke and ethereal light, a colossal shadow emerged — wings wide open, an eye like an icy moon, his body covered in shattered scales.
Uriel emerged from the explosion, floating slowly, panting, but still standing.
His dark blue scales were cracked in several places. Some had fallen off, revealing silver-gray skin beneath. Magical vapor escaped from his back and shoulders as if he had just walked out of a frozen volcano.
But he still smiled.
"Heh… I endured it. It wasn't free… but I endured."
He then took a deep breath, and with a deeper, weightier roar, declared his fury.
[Ice Dragon's Breath]
A new freezing beam burst from his mouth, this time with even more pressure, more rage, more power — a glacial vengeance for the mages' audacity.
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