Novel Full Chapter 934: The Realm of Ice Elves (28)
Chapter 934: The Realm of Ice Elves (28)
As Orion’s shield locked with the Queen’s claw, Cy took his opening, his spear poised like a lightning bolt ready to strike. He lowered his stance, every muscle coiling like a spring before he exploded forward, a blur of motion against the frozen battlefield.
The Queen sensed his approach.
With a shriek of fury, she reared up, her massive body looming over him like a collapsing glacier, aiming to crush him beneath her mountainous weight.
But Cy was already in motion.
He dropped low, rolling beneath her as her enormous bulk rose, the ice cracking in protest where she had been a moment before. His spear lashed out mid-roll, its darkened edge flashing like a fang of the abyss, and he drove it upward into the weakened joint in her plating—one of the fissures left by Aisa’s earlier strikes.
Impact.
The blade bit deep, the Queen’s own icy ichor spraying out in a supercooled mist. A second later, a pulse of abyssal energy detonated within the wound, the force rippling outward like an explosion of shadows.
The Queen shrieked, recoiling violently, her body convulsing as the corrupting energy surged through her.
But pain did not slow her. It only drove her into a frenzy.
Her tail lashed out—an enormous club of frozen chitin, thick enough to shatter a fortress wall.
Cy saw it coming.
Pivot.
He twisted his spear mid-motion, using the momentum of his earlier thrust to launch himself into a powerful vault. His body turned over itself in midair, the frigid wind slicing across his face as he cleared the incoming tail in a perfectly timed flip.
He landed in a low crouch, his boots sliding across the ice as he spun his weapon into a defensive stance, the spear’s haft braced against his forearm.
Then—
Boom.
The Queen’s massive limb slammed into the ground, the force sending jagged shards of ice exploding outward in all directions.
Cy braced.
His spear met the shockwave head-on, the impact vibrating through his arms, forcing his feet to grind against the ice to stay rooted.
And then—
A sharp exhale.
His grip tightened. His stance lowered. The next strike would be his.
The chaos of the battlefield was his domain. Where others faced the Queen’s attacks head-on, Findir vanished into the storm.
His cloak billowed, blending with the swirling frost, making him a phantom in the howling wind. Every step was silent. Every movement, a whisper against the ice.
The Queen shrieked again, her rage rippling through the battlefield.
Perfect.
Findir sprinted up the jagged ice, then vaulted high, his form a fleeting shadow against the pale sky.
He landed soundlessly on the ridges of her carapace, his balance impeccable despite her writhing form.
In an instant—his daggers were in motion.
Flash.
The first blade sliced along the ridges of her neck, finding a sliver of flesh exposed between shifting plates of frozen chitin.
Flash.
The second dagger slammed into the same point, carving deeper, the Queen’s frozen ichor spraying outward in misty bursts.
She roared, her head whipping backward.
Too late.
Findir had already pivoted, twisting in midair. The snap of her mandibles was inches from his face, their serrated edges sharp enough to tear through steel.
He angled his body mid-spin, his foot catching against her shoulder.
Push.
He kicked off with controlled force, flipping backward into the storm.
He landed smoothly on the ice, sliding back into the shifting blizzard, the cover swallowing him whole.
And then—his hand flicked forward.
Three Void Daggers flew from his fingertips, their blades rippling with shadowed energy.
They struck true—embedding deep into the open wound he had carved in her neck.
For a heartbeat, there was silence.
Then—
BOOM.
The daggers detonated, a pulse of void energy surging through her veins, warping and corroding the ice within her body.
The Queen staggered, shrieking as her crystalline armor cracked from within, her movements sluggish for the first time.
Findir’s breath was calm, his stance relaxed.
She still had fight left.
Good.
The Frostbound Queen let out a howl of fury, the sound vibrating through the ice, a sonic shockwave that sent cracks splintering through the frozen battlefield.
Her six serrated limbs slammed down, carving deep trenches into the ice. The wound from Findir’s daggers still pulsed with void energy, but she had endured far worse over centuries of dominance.
The Queen lashed out in all directions, forcing the party to scatter.
Orion dug his heels into the ice, refusing to yield even as the Frostbound Queen bore down on him with all the fury of a winter storm.
Her serrated limb crashed toward him, a towering scythe of frozen chitin that could carve mountains in half. But Orion did not flinch.
At the last possible second, he angled his shield, the polished steel catching the impact just right. Instead of trying to withstand the overwhelming force, he redirected it, twisting his body and sending the Queen’s strike skidding off his guard.
The ground shattered beneath him from the sheer force of the glancing blow, but Orion was already moving.
With a guttural roar, he shifted his weight, pivoting on his back foot, and brought his greatsword into a brutal upward arc.
The enchanted steel bit deep into the Queen’s forearm, slicing through chitin and sending a spray of dark ichor and frost into the air. The wound was deep—but not deep enough to cripple her.
She shrieked, a piercing, unnatural sound that reverberated through the battlefield. Her other limb was already in motion—a second clawed limb lashed at him with terrifying speed.
Orion reacted instantly.
Rather than pull his sword back for another attack, he rolled his shoulders and let the force of his last swing carry him into a lower guard stance.
The Queen’s strike slammed into his shield, and this time, there was no redirecting it—the full force hit him like a collapsing glacier.
Orion felt the impact in every bone of his body, but he held firm.
His boots skidded across the ice, carving deep trenches in the frozen battlefield, but he never lost his balance, never allowed himself to be knocked down.
As soon as he came to a stop, he pushed forward again, shield raised, sword already arcing for another strike.
"Stay on her!" he bellowed, his voice a war cry that cut through the blizzard.
Cy didn’t hesitate.
The Queen’s monstrous frame loomed over him, her entire body twisting in a desperate attempt to crush him beneath her massive bulk.
But she was too slow.
Her tail lashed out, a towering club of jagged chitin infused with the raw fury of winter itself. It came down like a meteor, a blur of frozen death crashing toward him.
Cy moved before it could reach him.
With preternatural reflexes, he ducked low, twisting his body with razor-sharp precision. The tail whooshed past his head, close enough that he could feel the icy sting in the air.
Instead of retreating, he used the momentum.
He pushed off the ice, launching himself into a spiraling leap. His spear glowed with abyssal energy, the shadows writhing along its length like serpents of pure void.
His trajectory was perfect.
A mid-air twist, an overhead arc—then the strike.
Cy brought his weapon down like a falling star, the sheer force of his swing colliding with the Queen’s knee joint.
The impact was cataclysmic.
The abyssal energy within his spear detonated on impact, sending a shockwave of void energy rippling through the wound. Chitin cracked and splintered, dark ichor bursting from the fissure.
The Queen let out a horrifying shriek, her colossal limb buckling beneath her weight.
She wasn’t down.
But she was off-balance.
Cy landed in a low crouch, his spear already twirling in his hands as he prepared for the counterstrike.
It came fast.
A monstrous claw came crashing down, an executioner’s hammer meant to flatten him in an instant.
Cy rolled.
At the last second, he flipped sideways, his shoulder grazing the ice as the Queen’s talon obliterated the spot where he had just stood.
Shards of frozen earth exploded outward, but Cy was already back on his feet, moving, never stopping.
He let out a breath, grinning.
"She’s getting desperate," he muttered under his breath.
And desperation meant she was slowing down.
Time to push harder.
The battlefield was chaos— the ice fractured beneath them, the wind howled with the Queen’s fury, and the blizzard grew denser, colder, more merciless.
But Findir thrived in chaos.
He was already moving before the Queen’s leg had fully buckled. The tremor in the ice, the shifting balance of the fight—he felt it, like a hunter sensing the heartbeat of his prey.
His form weaved through the battlefield, a specter slipping between falling claws and whipping tail strikes. The Queen lashed out blindly, her monstrous limbs carving through the frozen air in an effort to swat him down.
She missed every time.
He was too quick, too fluid, too elusive.
And now—he had his chance.