Chapter 51
Alex never saw the strike.
A hand seized his collar and hurled him aside.
Alexi slammed into the rubble, skidding across fractured ground before rolling to a stop.
He lay there, gasping. Shaking. Then forced himself up. His vision burned as he stared at the Pope.
"…who?," Alexi rasped, horror creeping over him.
Denovan met his gaze. And smiled.
"Alcium Galdr."
Alexi dragged in a ragged breath and forced himself upright.
A man stood between him and the Pope.
Tall. Broad-shouldered. Cloaked in dark, layered garments more suited to a throne room than a battlefield. Black, spiked-back hair. Sharp eyes scanning the dominion with habitual caution rather than confidence. He stood slightly angled—not square to Alexi, not square to Denovan—ready to evade if necessary.
Mid-forties. Black eyes. Watchful.
He hadn't followed through on the strike. That, Alexi noticed. Denovan smiled faintly.
"Careful," the Pope said mildly. "You knocked him farther than necessary."
The man stiffened almost imperceptibly.
"He rushed," he replied, firm. "I reacted."
Alexi's fingers dug into the ground.
"Who—" he started.
"This," Denovan said, resting a hand lightly on the man's shoulder, "is Archduke Alcium Galdr of the Reinstern Kingdom."
Alcium's jaw tightened at the touch. He did not pull away.
His gaze drifted—to the crystal, to the woman sealed inside.
He took one small step back without seeming to notice.
Alexi followed his eyes. Rage surged.
"Don't look at her," Alexi snarled.
Alcium glanced at him briefly, then away again, as if unwilling—or uninterested—to meet the Hero's gaze.
Denovan chuckled. "Ah, yes. I suppose I should explain."
He turned toward the ice crystal, reverence creeping into his tone.
"That prison," the Pope said, "is not ordinary ice. Formed from the Frost Titan—a remnant of the old world. Even divine authority fails to fracture it."
Alexi's heart pounded.
"…Then it can't be broken," he said hoarsely.
Denovan smiled wider. "Almost." He gestured toward Alcium. "There is only one flame known to existence capable of melting Frost Titan ice."
Alcium shifted subtly, half a step farther from the crystal.
"The Transcendent Flame," Denovan continued, "a fire that does not only burn matter… but concept."
Alexi stared at the man. "You recruited him," he realized slowly.
"Yes," Denovan said. "Because Archduke Galdr possesses that flame."
Alcium's eyes narrowed. "You make it sound grander than it is," he muttered.
Denovan ignored him. "With it," he continued, "the ice can be softened. Peeled away. Layer by layer."
Alexi's blood ran cold. "You can reach her."
Alcium neither denied nor confirmed. He folded his arms—defensive, closed.
"She sealed herself," he said gruffly. "Strong will. Stronger than most saints I've seen." His voice dropped. "She won't yield easily."
Denovan nodded approvingly. "Which is precisely why I needed someone who would not act against me."
Alcium exhaled through his nose. A small relief.
Alexi saw it, just barely: the way he avoided standing too close to the crystal, the way he let the Pope speak for him.
Denovan turned back to Alexi. "You see now," he said softly, "why I went to such lengths."
The storm tightened overhead.
The ice crystal shimmered faintly. And Alexi understood with sickening clarity—the man who could melt the impossible was not brave enough to do it unless ordered.
His gaze shifted back to the crystal. Reverence drained from Alcium's expression, replaced by something colder.
"Archduke Galdr," the Pope said evenly.
Alcium stiffened. "Yes?"
Denovan did not look at him. "Begin."
Silence fell. The storm above slowed—just slightly—as if the dominion itself were listening.
Alcium hesitated. Briefly. Almost imperceptibly. Then he stepped forward. Not confidently. Carefully.
He stopped several paces from the ice crystal—farther than necessary. His shoulders tensed as he raised his hands, palms facing one another.
Heat gathered. The air warped, bending inward, a dull shimmer forming between his hands like a stretched mirage.
The ice crystal reacted immediately. Runes flared, frost screaming as ancient power resisted intrusion.
Alexi's heart lurched. "No—!"
He surged forward, muscles screaming, instinct overriding thought, pain, and fear. "I said no!"
He didn't reach them.
The fractured ground split open. Something dropped. Then another. Then many.
Small, hunched shapes slammed down around him. Clawed hands seized his arms, legs, shoulders—iron grip, sudden and overwhelming.
Alexi cried out as he was yanked backward, slammed to his knees. "What—what are these?!"
They did not let go.
Twisted, kobold-like creatures in scavenged armor, narrow teeth bared in silent snarls, yellowed eyes focused—not with rage, but obedience.
More landed with wet thuds, tightening their hold.
Alexi thrashed, striking one across the jaw. Its head snapped sideways, teeth clacking.
It didn't release him. Didn't react.
"Let me go! LET ME GO—!" he roared.
Denovan watched calmly. "Fascinating, aren't they?"
Alexi froze. "...What?"
Denovan glanced over his shoulder. "Raker Minions. Legionnaires."
Alexi stared at the creatures. "L–Legion…?" he whispered.
"Yes," Denovan said. "The backbone of my forces."
One Raker shifted its grip, claws tightening just enough.
"They are simple," the Pope continued. "Numerous. Loyal. Perfect for restraining a Hero who believes brute will is enough."
Alexi strained again. Useless. The Rakers moved as one, adjusting, compensating—never striking, never killing. Containing.
His gaze snapped back to Alcium. "Stop! Don't touch it—don't touch her!"
Alcium's hands trembled slightly. Heat intensified, sparks spiraling between his palms.
Flame stabilized. Condensed. A dense red core formed—barely the size of a baseball. It did not roar. It did not blaze. It waited.
Alexi screamed. "NO—!"
He strained against the Rakers, muscles tearing, veins burning. Vision went white at the edges.
Denovan watched. "Do it," the Pope said.
Alcium flinched. Then, quickly, he hurled the flame.
The fireball crossed the distance in a blink. It struck the ice crystal.
No sound at first. Just a blinding red-white flash that swallowed the dominion.
Then—impact.
Reality folded, crushed as Transcendent Flame detonated against Frost Titan ice. The shockwave tore through floating isles, shattering cloud-stone, hurling debris into the stormed sky.
Alexi convulsed. He screamed until his throat bled—but could not move. Could not even turn his head. The Rakers held him like living restraints.
The explosion rolled on, swallowing sound, swallowing sight. Denovan stood unmoved, robes whipping in the gale, eyes gleaming—not with surprise, but satisfaction.
"Magnificent," he murmured.
Slowly, the light faded. Steam and crystallized frost filled the air, obscuring everything.
Alexi choked on smoke and ice-dust, sobbing brokenly. "...Please…"
Denovan did not look at him. "Leave him," the Pope said quietly.
The Rakers loosened—just enough. Not to free him. Only to ensure he could see.
Steam thinned.
The crystal remained. Massive chunks of Frost Titan ice were embedded like fallen meteors. Sections of the prison had been annihilated, their edges smooth, glassed, glowing faintly red where concept had been burned away.
Thinner now. Much thinner. Closer.
Inside the remaining ice—she was visible. Unmistakable.
Grass-green hair glistening, skin flawless, her white gown pristine. A beauty whispered of in hymns. Said to rival goddesses.
Alexi whimpered. "Sister…"
Denovan finally turned back to him. He smiled—knowingly.
"I told you," the Pope said softly. "Layer by layer."
Alcium lowered his hands, trembling.
Denovan's voice cut through smoke. "Not over yet. She is still encased—but this time… Archduke Galdr can obliterate it."
Alexi tried to scream, but his throat shredded. Wet, strangled croaks tore from him.
Denovan did not wait. "Again," the Pope ordered.
Alcium raised his hands. Air warped violently. Sparks arced outward before condensing into a blazing orb. Trembling fingers clutched the enormous, dense, pulsating sphere—alive with impossible energy.
With a roar that tore the air itself, he hurled it.
The orb shot forward like a comet, trailing arcs of molten red-white flame.
It struck the crystal.
And the dominion vanished in a sun-born blaze.