Chương 52: 3

Before she could be proud of her kill, a sword stabbed into her from behind. She let out a pained cry and mule-kicked the attacker. The sword pulled out as she felt beneath her heel. Several ice spears shot out from the storm as she stumbled forward. The fatal one nearly missed her head as she recoiled. Another missed her as well, but the last one skewered her right tight.

She let out a pained howl as the ice melted away, leaving a glaring black hole. The hole closed a moment later. A flaming whip extended from Cyril's right palm where it arched across the dark night sky, illuminated faintly by gold, and cut the blizzard it half. The snow fluttered into random directions, partially revealing Jogun and two Ice Golems that began to charge forward.

Cyril didn't hesitate as the whip whirled around, skimming the tones momentarily to her far left. She sliced the golems in half, leaving chunks of fire that eat away the mana in them. Jogun panicked as the whip easily dealt with his golems and he had to duck low before he too was dealt with.

Losing focus, the storm weakened. He cursed and tried stabilize it. However, Cyril had already pushed forward. Her mana was like a massive sun in the sea snow, and it radiated throughout the storm. It scrambled the spell Lahabiel had made for him, and he failed to regain it. As if someone had just turned it off, all the snow fell lifelessly to the ground. Brillant silver moonlight rained down over the city. Fires burned to the east. Piles of snow everywhere else.

However, in the aftermath of the storm. People began to stir in their homes. Windows lit up as the frost began to melt. People had lived through that damning cold. Jogun saw it all, and for once in a very long time, he was scared. Cyril, however, burned only with vengeance and hate. She did not see and nor would she have cared. For Jogun was the only thing in her eyes, and until he was wiped from existence, she would disregard it all.

Cyril stepped towards him, snarling with wild ferocity. Prowling. Desiring. Jogun too a step back, and remembered that he still had the soul stone. He clutched it tighter to remember he was still stronger. He had doubts about whether Alistair could overcome him with the number of souls he'd captured Surely, Cyril could not either.

"I still have --" Before he could show off his bravado, mainly to inspire himself; Cyril lept at him with a deep snarl.

He quickly drew from the stone and conjured a massive rock of ice. Before he could fling it at her, a whip of golden fire had already shot out from her palm and stabbed him in his offhand. The Soul-stone dropped, and the rock waned. Before it could fall apart, Jogun brought it down upon Cyril, crushing her beneath it.

The stones around the boulder exploded, sending snow and dust everywhere. Tiny golden flames had splattered all around it and began to fizzle out. Jogun looked at the boulder, feeling that had been too easy.

"Was... That it?" Jogun muttered. The boulder did not move.

Had he really done it? Jogun wasn't sure. He waited, and stared. Still, nothing stirred. He began to chuckle, believing he'd just killed the oldest god ever; with an ice boulder at that. He let out a hearty laugh.

The boulder exploded into millions of shards like a fragmentation grenade. Jogun was knocked off his feet as tens of rocks cut into him. Thankfully, none had been fatal. He stirred, and looked back to the rock. Now, a golden figure stood there with fluttered white wings. The flames on her body raged violently as she let out a shriek and turned to Jogun. She then looked down at the large black stone that laid between them.

Jogun thought he saw the thought-form on her firey face. She flung her self at the stone just as Jogun scrambled for it as well. Cyril was faster. She scooped it up before Jogun could even get within five feet of it. She jumped back as Jogun landed on his stomach, his hands scraping where it had been. All around her, the stone had been melted and turned into black glass. The air had warm and the snow had begun to melt.

Jogun knew at this moment, he had lost.

The stone shattered as her flaming fingers crushed the large stone. A pillar of black and silver beamed up into the sky, lighting the sky as if the moon itself had fallen to earth. Jogun watched in amazement. Thousands of souls had been trapped in that stone. It was supposed to be absorbed by Lahabiel. Instead, they'd been released back into the world to rejoin the cycle of life.

"You're a cruel Mistress, your Grace... " Jogun muttered bitterly.

Cyril hadn't looked away from him as the pillar extended upward from her palm. He couldn't see her eyes, but he felt her eyes burrowing into his. He felt it, the hate. And when the light died away after several seconds, the stone was a shattered grey husk of semi-translucent crystal. Lord Lahabiel could have salvaged the shards, however, Cyril being the cruel woman she was - burn them away.

Jogun got to his feet, a sword of ice forming in his right hand. His left formed an ice dagger. Without a word, he charged at her. He would not die on his knees or groveling. He was a proud Elven warrior who had lived for many years. Fought many battles. For the love he bore for his lost family, his lost comrades, he would not die shamefully.

He was Commander Jogun of the Undead Army - Ardreth Presven, the last free High Elf. First of his name, and the second to be reborn under Lord Hades. As such, he would die a free elf.