The pale morning sun could barely penetrate the icy mist hanging over the Crystal Mountains of Frostgard. Majestic snow-covered peaks rose like silent sentinels, their faces sculpted by millennia of biting winds and relentless storms. Frozen lakes spread between the valleys, their surfaces so polished they reflected the gray sky like perfect mirrors.
The vegetation was sparse but surprisingly resilient. Ice pines—trees whose trunks contained ice crystals within—formed dense forests on the lower slopes. Their bluish needles caught any ray of sunlight, refracting it in hypnotic patterns. Among them, snow bushes with cobalt-blue berries provide food for the local fauna: snow-white foxes, giant polar bears, and the rare crystal deer, whose translucent antlers looked like pure diamond.
The air was so cold that each breath produced a small cloud of vapor, and sounds traveled with supernatural clarity—the cracking of ice, the distant howl of the wind in the mountains, and now, the unmistakable sound of metal on metal, war cries, and the roar of creatures in battle.
Atop a hill overlooking the Frostholm valley, General Maeve Black observed the battlefield while mounted on her Glacius, a majestic creature born from the eternal glaciers of Frostgard itself.
The Glacius was an imposing being, nearly two meters tall at the shoulder. Its body was made of ancient, translucent ice with deep bluish veins. Its eyes were like sapphire shards, emanating an intense cold aura that crystallized the air around it. Its solid, crystalline ice hooves left prints of pure frost wherever it stepped, and its breath formed a freezing mist visible from meters away.
To her left, mounted on an even larger and more imposing Glacius, was King Thorvald Frostborn, sovereign of Frostgard. He belonged to the ancient and revered race of Gelidians—beings born from the world's own frozen heart. His skin had a deep blue tone that seemed to contain entire constellations, and his hair, white as the purest snow, fell in elaborate braids adorned with ice crystals. His eyes, a blue so light it bordered upon white, seemed to see beyond the visible. The King wore armor made of eternal ice—a material stronger than steel, forged in the depths of ancestral glaciers—and wielded Winterfang, a legendary sword whose touch could instantly freeze any living being.
Gelidians were as rare as they were powerful. Immune to the most extreme cold, they could manipulate ice and snow with a mere thought, creating weapons, shelters, or even temporary living beings from the element they commanded. Their longevity was legendary—it was said King Thorvald had already ruled Frostgard for over five hundred years.
"The situation does not look favorable, General," said Thorvald, his deep voice echoing like cracking ice. "Eryndark brought more Basilisks than we expected."
Maeve Black nodded gravely. Tall and imposing like her brother Rogan, she shared his same nearly white-blond hair and the characteristic golden eyes of Evolved Humans. However, while Rogan radiated the warmth and intensity of fire, Maeve emanated the calculating, relentless cold of ice. Her armor, made from ice dragon scales, shone with a bluish tint under the diffuse light, and the sword at her waist—Frostbite—was known to freeze the blood of her enemies. "Yes, Your Majesty," she replied, her golden eyes methodically analyzing the battlefield. "But we still have the Ice Giants and the Snow Wolves. If we coordinate correctly, we can turn this around."
Before them stretched an open field, once covered only by immaculate snow, now stained with blood and ash. The Frostgard army, composed of Humans, Ice Elves, Ice Giants, and other native creatures, faced the forces of Eryndark: Humans, Evolved Humans, and a variety of magical creatures enslaved through dark rituals.
In the center of the field, an Ice Giant nearly five meters tall, with grayish-blue skin and muscles defined like carved rock, swung a colossal axe against a Basilisk—a monstrous serpent with iridescent green scales and a bony crown upon its triangular head. The Giant carefully avoided looking directly into the creature's eyes, knowing that a single glance meant instant death. "Look down, Hrungnir!" shouted a nearby Ice Elf, his light-blue skin almost camouflaged against the snow. "Aim for the neck scales!" The Giant, hearing the advice, delivered a powerful blow that decapitated the Basilisk. The creature writhed violently before falling still, its steaming green blood melting the snow around it.
Not far away, a group of Ice Elves, with longbows made of ice pine wood, fired enchanted arrows at a trio of Cerberus hounds—monstrous three-headed dogs with fur as black as night and eyes red as embers. The arrows found their mark with supernatural precision, but the creatures seemed to absorb the damage, advancing relentlessly. "Star formation!" shouted the Elven leader, a woman with silver hair and sapphire-blue eyes. "Freeze the ground beneath them!" The Elves obeyed, channeling their innate magic to turn the ground into a slippery surface. The Cerberus hounds, unable to keep their balance, slipped and fell, becoming easy targets for the sure arrows now aimed at their exposed throats.
In another part of the field, a squadron of Snow Wolves—majestic creatures the size of horses, with white fur that reflected light like ice crystals—faced a group of Evolved Humans from Eryndark. The Wolves moved with supernatural speed, their bodies nearly invisible against the snow, but the Evolved Humans were no ordinary opponents. One of them, a tall man with glowing red eyes, raised his hands and conjured a wall of black fire that instantly melted the snow. The Wolves retreated, howling in pain as the unnatural heat burned them. Another Evolved Human, a woman with ebony hair, drew two curved blades that seemed to absorb light itself. With movements as fluid as water, she danced among the Wolves, each precise strike finding a vital point.
"They are decimating our Snow Wolves," Thorvald observed, his voice calm but his eyes betraying his concern. Maeve nodded, her lips tightening into a thin line.
"Send in the Giant Polar Bears and the Ice Knights," she ordered. "Attack the flanks while the Evolved Humans are distracted by the Wolves."
A messenger, mounted on a small Glacius, departed immediately to relay the orders. Minutes later, a line of Giant Polar Bears, each the size of a small house with claws capable of rending steel, emerged from the forest on the right. Mounted on them were the Ice Knights—elite Frostgard warriors whose armor and weapons were made from the same material as the King's sword. Simultaneously, from the left, emerged the Ice Elementals—humanoid beings made entirely of living ice, capable of reforming even after being shattered. They advanced silently, their translucent forms nearly invisible against the snowy landscape.
The coordinated attack caught the Evolved Humans by surprise. The Bears roared, a sound echoing through the mountains like an avalanche, while the Elementals extended their arms, transforming their arms into sharp blades of ice.
"Good," Maeve murmured, watching the ensuing carnage. "But it won't be enough. Eryndark still has its Shadow Dragons."
As if to confirm her words, a deafening roar split the sky. Three dark shapes emerged from the clouds—Shadow Dragons, their black scales absorbing the surrounding light, creating a vacuum of darkness moving across the sky.
"The Dragons," said Thorvald, his voice finally betraying a hint of concern. "Our archers won't be able to hit them at that height."
Maeve narrowed her eyes, calculating rapidly.
"Captain Iverson!" she called, and a middle-aged man with scars covering half his face approached quickly. "Gather the Mages. I want a barrier over our main troops. And prepare the Ice Falcons for interception." "Yes, General!" the Captain replied, striking his chest in salute before departing.
"Captain Frost!" A young Gelidian, with blue war markings painted on his face, stepped forward. "Take the Ice Elementals to the right flank. The Obsidian Golems are advancing there." "Yes, General!" the Captain replied, his voice sounding like tinkling crystals.
Thorvald watched in silent admiration as Maeve commanded. She was truly her father's daughter—a natural strategist, able to see the battlefield like a three-dimensional chessboard.
"You command well, General," he said, as the captains departed to execute her orders. "Your brother is fortunate to have you as an ally."
Maeve allowed herself a small smile. "Rogan knows how to value family, Your Majesty. And speaking of him…" She pointed to the horizon, where a golden line was beginning to form. "It seems my request for aid has been answered." The Sky Reaper army appeared on the horizon, their gold and silver armor gleaming even in the dim light. At the forefront, mounted on a battle Qilin that left fiery prints in the snow, was Rogan Black, the King of Sky Reaper. His sword, raised above his head, shone like a second sun.
"For the honor of Sky Reaper! For Frostgard!" Rogan's war cry echoed across the battlefield, amplified by magic for all to hear.
The effect on the Frostgard troops' morale was immediate. Shouts of joy and renewed determination echoed through the valley, while the Eryndark soldiers looked on with apprehension at the new threat.
Maeve smiled, a fierce, wolfish smile. "Now the real battle begins," she said, drawing Frostbite. The blade glowed with a bluish light, and the air around it filled with minuscule ice crystals. "Your Majesty, with your permission, I would like to join the front line."
Thorvald nodded, a similar smile forming on his lips. "Go, General. Show Eryndark why Black blood is feared throughout the continent."
Maeve inclined her head in respect and then, with a silent command, her Glacius charged forward, descending the hill towards the battlefield. Ice formed beneath the creature's hooves, creating a crystalline path where it passed.
In the center of the field, the General of Eryndark, Vex, a tall, imposing man with eyes of icy blue, watched Maeve's approach with a mixture of hatred and respect. His posture was that of a warrior born to lead, perfectly representing Eryndark's ideology of pure human supremacy.
"The King of Sky Reaper's sister," he murmured, spinning his black spear decorated with ancient runes. "Finally, a worthy challenge."
Maeve stopped her Glacius a few meters from Vex, her golden eyes meeting his blue ones. "General Vex," she said, her voice as cold as the north wind. "You invaded our lands, massacred our people, and desecrated our temples. For these crimes, your life is forfeit."
Vex smiled, a cruel smile revealing his conviction in the superiority of his people. "Pretty words, General Black. But Eryndark does not bow before snow and ice, nor before inferior creatures. Pure humans will prevail, as is our destiny. Your kingdom will fall, just like all the others who oppose our advance."
"We shall see," Maeve replied, and then, with a fluid movement, she leaped from her Glacius, Frostbite slicing through the air in a deadly sweep. The blade met Vex's spear, and the impact generated an energy wave that melted the snow in a perfect circle around them. The duel had begun, while around them, the battle intensified with the arrival of Sky Reaper's forces.