The city of Volxane was a sight of ruin and despair.
Once proud towers of stone and wood now stood as shattered relics of their former glory, their spires broken, their walls painted in streaks of blood and frost. The screams of the dying, the howls of pain and the guttural of the monstrous Ice Mannequins filled the cold, ash-ridden air.
The thirty-meter-tall Ice Mannequins lumbered through the city streets like walking calamities, their crystalline bodies reflecting the carnage below in fractured, eerie light.
Their massive hands smashed through stone walls as if they were nothing more than paper, tearing apart buildings and swiping at fleeing citizens. The ground beneath them shook with every step, sending terrified horses into panicked fits and throwing soldiers off balance.
The three-meter-tall ones were no less terrifying, darting between the legs of their larger counterparts with unnerving agility. They moved like predators, their icy limbs cutting through flesh and armor. They shredded, tore and left their victims unrecognizable.
A soldier, barely more than a boy, stood trembling in the shadow of one of the smaller mannequins. His sword clattered to the cobblestones as the creature lunged, its icicle-like claws slicing through his chest. Blood sprayed out in a sickening arc, painting the frosted stones crimson. His body hit the ground with a wet thud, his lifeless eyes staring up at the gray, uncaring sky.
Another soldier, an older man with grizzled features, tried to rally the remaining defenders near the marketplace.
"Hold the line! Hold—"
His words were cut short as one of the thirty-meter titans swung its arm through the street. The massive limb smashed through the row of soldiers like a scythe through wheat, their bodies exploding into a grotesque mix of blood, bone and shattered armor. The grizzled man's torso was flung into the air, landing atop a crumbled fruit stand in a heap of unrecognizable gore.
The battlefield was a living nightmare.
Limbs littered the streets, frozen where they had been severed. Blood pooled beneath the icy debris, mixing with the slush to create rivers of red and white. The air stank of iron, frost and the acrid tang of burning wood as fires raged uncontrollably through what remained of the city.
Near the city walls, the King of Volxane stood, his face pale and his hands gripping the battlements so tightly that his knuckles were bone white. His crown, once a symbol of power, now felt like a mockery. The destruction before him was beyond anything he could have imagined, beyond anything his kingdom was prepared for.
"Your Majesty, we must retreat!" A trembling advisor shouted, his voice barely audible over the chaos. "The city is lost!"
The king didn't respond, his eyes fixed on the colossal Ice Mannequin currently ripping apart the central cathedral. Its icy claws dug into the stone walls, pulling them apart piece by piece. The massive stained glass window depicting the kingdom's founding shattered in a rain of multicolored shards, falling like deadly snowflakes onto the terrified citizens below.
In the courtyard below the walls, a group of knights attempted a last stand. Their polished armor gleamed under the pale, artificial sun, now eclipsed and casting the battlefield in an eerie twilight. They charged one of the smaller mannequins, their spears aimed at its chest.
The creature let out an otherworldly screech, its maw splitting open to reveal rows of frost-rimed, icicle-like teeth. It moved with terrifying speed, its claws sweeping through the knights. One knight's head was severed cleanly from his shoulders, spinning through the air before landing in a fountain, turning the once-pristine water crimson. Another was impaled through the stomach, the mannequin lifting him high into the air before slamming him down onto a shattered wagon.
The last knight managed to land a blow, his spear piercing the creature's chest. For a moment, hope flickered in his eyes, until the mannequin reached down, grabbed him by the legs, and ripped him in half like a child tearing a sheet of parchment.
The king turned away, unable to watch anymore. His hands shook as he leaned against the wall, bile rising in his throat.
"This… this is a massacre."
From his vantage point, he could see the outer districts now reduced to smoldering ruins. The bodies of civilians were scattered like broken dolls, their blood freezing into grotesque patterns on the icy streets. A young mother lay crumpled against a wall, her arms still clutching the lifeless body of her child, shielding it in vain from the cold, merciless monsters.
This was the horrors of a battle.
Behind him, the advisor tried again, his voice desperate.
"Your Majesty, we must go! If we don't retreat now, there will be no one left to fight another day!"
The king turned. "Retreat to where? This… this is an island. There's no escape from this."
As if to punctuate his words, another massive crash echoed through the city as a colossal mannequin brought its fist down on a guard tower near the eastern gate. The structure crumbled instantly, burying dozens of defenders under tons of rubble and ice.
A lone archer on the wall beside the king let out a scream of rage, drawing back his bowstring and firing an arrow at one of the giants. The arrow struck true, lodging in the creature's eye. For a brief moment, it seemed as though the shot had done something until the mannequin reached up, plucked the arrow out, and snapped it in two like a twig.
The archer didn't have time to nock another arrow before the giant swung its arm. The wall exploded under the force and the archer was sent flying, his body slamming into a distant rooftop with a sickening crunch.
The king stared at the empty space where the archer had been, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. His mind raced but no plans, no strategies came to him. He had led his people into this war believing they could win. Now, all he could do was watch as his kingdom was torn apart, piece by bloody piece.
He really missed the days when he liked hunting the Raukerai but that was almost four years ago.
But then...
The chaos of the battlefield was interrupted by a sudden, blinding light. High above the city, a massive teleportation circle materialized, its runes glowing with an otherworldly brilliance. Before anyone could process what was happening, three streaks of light—blue, dark, and silver—shot from the circle like divine comets.
They slammed into the ground with earth-shaking force, sending shockwaves rippling through the city. The ground cracked beneath the impact, debris and frost scattering as the forms of Farrynelle Skyrover, Xander Fedres and Eldrigan Hanabas emerged from the aftermath.
The survivors froze in place. Some clutched their weapons in trembling hands, others simply stared, their eyes wide with a mix of awe and disbelief. The king, still at the wall, leaned forward, his breath catching in his throat.
Farrynelle moved first. Her figure blurred as she shot forward with supersonic speed, her twin chakrams spinning in her hands like wheels of death. She ran through the city streets, weaving between rubble and ice. The three-meter-tall Ice Mannequins didn't even have time to react.
The first mannequin turned toward her but its arm was severed before it could complete the motion. Farrynelle's chakrams sliced through its icy body with speed, each strike accompanied by a sharp, metallic hiss. She spun around, her speed creating a vortex of wind and launched both chakrams toward another group of mannequins. The spinning blades cut through them like a scythe through frost, their bodies shattering into shards that sparkled like glass in the dim light.
The chakrams came back to her and she continued fighting.
"Move it, you clunky icicles!"
She shouted as she leapt onto the shoulders of a mannequin, stabbing one chakram into its head before flipping off and landing gracefully on the ground in half a second.
Xander was a force of raw power, his longsword gleaming with silver light as he charged into the fray. His strikes were calculated and deliberate, each swing cleaving through the icy bodies of the smaller mannequins. His blade met resistance only for a moment before it shattered their forms into glittering fragments.
One mannequin lunged at him, claws extended, but Xander sidestepped with ease. With a single motion, he brought his sword down in a crushing arc, splitting the creature from shoulder to waist. He turned and drove his blade through another mannequin's chest, pinning it to a wall before pulling his sword free with a powerful jerk.
"Nelle, watch your left!"
He called out, slicing through another mannequin as if it were nothing more than paper.
"Thanks, babe!"
She shot back, her chakrams flying past him to decapitate an approaching mannequin.
Eldrigan was a different beast altogether.
While Xander and Farrynelle focused on the smaller threats, Eldrigan set his sights on the thirty-meter-tall giants. His weapon of choice changed with each encounter—a sword, then a greatsword, then an axe, then a mallet—each one appearing in his hands with a flash of dark energy.
The first giant turned toward him, its massive arm swinging down in an attempt to crush him. Eldrigan met the attack head-on, his greatsword slicing through the icy limb with a deafening crack. The severed arm crashed to the ground, shattering into a thousand pieces. Eldrigan didn't stop. He leapt onto the giant's chest, his axe materializing in his hands. He drove the weapon into the creature's chest, shattering its core. The giant toppled backward, its collapse sending a tremor through the ground.
Another giant loomed behind him, its shadow swallowing him whole. Eldrigan switched to a mallet, spinning it once before slamming it into the creature's knee. The sound of cracking ice echoed across the battlefield as the giant fell to one knee, its balance shattered. He didn't hesitate, jumping onto its head and driving a sword through its skull, splitting it open like a frozen melon.
The king and his knights watched in stunned silence. These three warriors moved like they were untouchable, their combined efforts turning the tide of a battle that had seemed hopeless mere moments ago.
"By the gods…" one knight muttered, his voice trembling.
"They're—" another began, but he couldn't find the words.
"They're saving us," the king finished, his voice filled with disbelief and hope.
A small group of soldiers, inspired by the trio's heroics, found the strength to rise again. They rallied behind Xander, charging forward with renewed determination. Farrynelle's speed and precision created openings for them to exploit while Eldrigan's raw power drew the attention of the larger threats, giving the survivors a chance to regroup and stay away from the chaos.
Eldrigan crushed another giant with a thunderous blow, its shattered form raining down around him like icy confetti. He turned toward Xander and Farrynelle, his voice booming over the chaos.
"Keep moving! Don't let up!"
"Don't need to tell me twice!" Farrynelle shot back, her chakrams cutting through another group of mannequins.
The battle raged on but for the first time, the defenders of Volxane felt like they had a chance. The trio moved like forces of nature, their presence turning despair into hope, chaos into order. Survivors cheered as they watched the mannequins fall one by one, their icy forms reduced to nothing more than frozen debris.
The king straightened, his voice ringing out across the wall.
"Rally to them! Fight with everything you have! For Volxane!"
The defenders roared in response, their voices filled with a newfound resolve. They charged into the fray, their spirits lifted by the sight of the trio tearing through the enemy like a storm.
The tide of battle had turned, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, the city of Volxane began to believe in victory.