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The silence that followed my words was a fragile thing—thin ice over deep water.
Then it shattered.
The largest dragon reared its head back and let out a thunderous roar that cracked the icy pillars and sent a cascade of snow and frost from the ceiling above. The other three dragons responded in kind, their muscles tensing as they surged forward.
"You dare insult the Elders of Frost!?" One of the smaller dragons bellowed.
Another lunged, jaws wide, frost-covered fangs gleaming.
I raised a hand—not to attack, but to block. The dragon's massive head slammed into my palm with enough force to topple a building. The impact echoed like thunder.
But I didn't budge.
The dragon froze, confused, its eyes locked with mine.
"I said I wasn't impressed," I repeated coldly—and then, with a subtle shift of weight, I hurled it aside.
It smashed into an icy wall with a booming crash that sent chunks of frost and stone flying. The other dragons didn't hesitate. One unleashed a freezing breath, a cone of white-blue death that flash-froze everything in its path. I ducked beneath it, rolling to the side, allowing the icy torrent to pass harmlessly over the stone.
Another tried to catch me with its claws, but I leapt upward, spinning through the air and landing on its back. It snarled and tried to shake me off. I dug my fingers into its scales, pretending to struggle for grip.
I could've ended it right there. A single punch to the back of the skull, and it would've dropped like a sack of meat.
But I didn't.
Because I wasn't here to shatter their worldview.
I leapt off its back just as the lead dragon brought its tail down in a sweeping arc meant to crush me. I let it connect—let it send me flying through the air like a ragdoll. I crashed into a pillar of ice and let out a pained grunt as I slumped to the floor.
From the shadows, I saw them.
Tia and Tina, blades drawn, moving like ghosts.
The chaos had opened the path for them.
The Quagoa leader, Riyuro, was still scrambling backward, confused and panicked. He hadn't even seen the twins until it was too late. Tia appeared behind him like a shadow, her dagger piercing the back of his neck with surgical precision. Tina caught him before he hit the floor, driving her second blade deep into his chest.
Riyuro gave one final gurgle—and then he was still.
Evileye, who had been watching from cover, raised one hand and unleashed a flickering orb of crimson light into the air.
The signal.
The job was done.
I staggered to my feet, wiping fake blood from the corner of my mouth. My body was perfectly fine, of course—but they didn't need to know that.
"GO!" I shouted, loud enough to echo through the entire cavern. "Get out while you still can!"
Evileye hesitated, eyes wide. "What about you!?"
"I'll hold them off!" I screamed, dodging another blast of frost breath. "You don't have time—GO!"
Tina grabbed Tia's arm. "We need to move."
"But Alex—"
"He's buying us time!" Evileye snapped. "Don't waste it!"
They ran. Gondo hesitated the longest, looking at me with something between awe and horror, then finally turned and followed the others into the shadows, vanishing into the ruined corridors.
I stayed behind.
The dragons closed in.
"You think sacrificing yourself will save them?" The lead one growled.
"No," I said, rolling my shoulders. "I think you're wasting your time."
The moment I said the words, the atmosphere shifted.
The dragons froze, if only for a heartbeat, but it was enough. Enough to show they realized something was wrong. Very wrong.
The largest of them—Olasird'arc Haylilyal, the so-called lord of this frozen nest—let out a thunderous snarl and lunged. His claws swept forward, a blur of frost-coated death meant to slice me in half.
I caught it.
Just like that—my fingers wrapped around his claw like it was a child's toy. The force of the blow sent a shockwave through the cavern, ice cracking beneath my feet. But I didn't move.
The dragon's eyes widened.
I met his gaze. "You're not nearly as terrifying as you think you are."
He tried to pull away, panic slipping into his expression. I didn't let go. I yanked him forward, his massive bulk crashing toward me like an avalanche—and then I struck.
One punch.
My fist slammed into his chest, just below the throat.
There was no sound.
Just… an explosion of red mist.
The great Olasird'arc Haylilyal—Frost King of the North, elder wyrm of the glacier's heart—ceased to exist in a single instant. His enormous body didn't fall; it ruptured. Like a sack of blood and bone, he burst apart, chunks of meat and shards of ribcage spraying across the icy cavern walls like some grotesque snowfall.
His heart palpitated.
His skull shattered mid-roar.
His wings were flung across the lair, slapping wetly against frozen stone.
For a moment, all was still.
Then—
"Haylilyal!"
The shriek came from one of the surviving dragons, a keening, soul-wrenching cry that shattered whatever pride remained in them. The three of them stumbled back, horror twisting their noble faces into masks of grief.
One dropped to her knees.
Another roared—not in rage, but in agony.
"You… you killed him…" she whispered.
I turned toward them slowly, crimson dripping from my knuckles like paint on canvas.
"You came here thinking you were the apex predators," I said, voice low. "But now you know."
They didn't speak. They couldn't.
All they did was stare at what was left of their mate—scattered across the ground like jelly.
"Would you like me to take care from here, my lord?" Demiurge, who was hiding somewhere.
"Demiurge, you came just in time."
~~~
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