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Aeron's greatsword's edge burned hotter, black fire licking across the Night King's frozen steel, when a sudden pulse of violet light flashed in Aeron's vision.
[Bloodlust activated]
.
.
.
[Target does not feel]
Aeron's brow furrowed, even as his arms strained in the deadlock. 'Doesn't feel?' 'Doesn't feel what?' he thought, his mind flashing between fury and curiosity. His lips curled into a sharp, mocking grin.
"Or…" he muttered, voice low but cutting through the wind, "are you saying this bastard doesn't feel anything at all?"
The Night King's expression didn't change not even the faintest twitch. His eyes were the same lifeless cold, as if Aeron's words were nothing but air.
"Let's see if I can fix that."
Aeron wrenched his greatsword free in a brutal twist, spinning with a speed that defied reason. The black flames flared violently, casting the snowfield in an unholy glow. He stepped in, his strikes now a storm each blow meant to crush, tear, and burn through the Night King's defenses.
The Night King met him stroke for stroke, his movements fluid, ice trailing every swing, the impact ringing like struck crystal. Frost clawed up Aeron's gauntlets, trying to slow him, but the Monarch's dark flames burned hotter in defiance, the heat cracking the ice apart before it could take hold.
Behind him, his army roared into the horde of the undead. Direwolves and shadowcats tore into wights, dragging them down and ripping them apart. His giant shattered undead giants with bone-crunching blows, while Vaydris and the shadow priests cleaned the filthy remains of the undead, immolating ranks of corpses in flames.
But Aeron barely noticed his army's efforts.
His world had narrowed to the figure before him the frozen king who could not feel.
Steel met steel again, and the shockwave ripped the blizzard apart for a heartbeat, revealing two kings locked in a duel, black fire against endless winter.
The Night King shifted his blade in a swift move..
Aeron's lips split into a grin, more beast than man. "Say something will you? It will be a shame to die with no last words."
He surged forward. The greatsword came down in a vicious overhead arc, the force enough to split a horse in two. The Night King parried, ice screaming against steel, but Aeron's momentum did not break, he twisted, reversed his grip, and brought the blade whipping back low toward the knee.
The Night King glided back, silent as frost, yet Aeron was already upon him.
A thrust followed deceptive, lightning-quick for a weapon of such size forcing the Night King to pivot aside. Aeron turned the miss into a whirl, the black flames fanning out in a half-moon of death that melted snow in a ten-foot sweep. The impact sent a blast of heat and shadow that knocked lesser wights flat where they stood.
Still, the Night King's face betrayed nothing.
Aeron's teeth clenched. "Not a flicker… not a damned blink."
He advanced again, his strikes now a storm downward chop, reverse slash, a shoulder feint into a rising cut. The Night King met each blow perfectly, but the force drove him back across the field, his boots crunching in snow that hissed and blackened under Aeron's relentless onslaught.
Behind them, the world burned and froze in equal measure.
Shadow knights ripped through the dead, their shadow swords clamping until bone gave way. The shadow wyverns descended upon the dead in a cyclone of violet flames scattering entire ranks of wights into ash.
The tide was turning.
Aeron broke the deadlock with a brutal knee to the Night King's chest, sending a spiderweb of cracks across the frozen armor. He stepped in close, his voice low and mocking.
"Feel nothing, do you? Then I shall carve the sensation into your very bones."
The greatsword swung again, this time in a diagonal arc aimed to cleave from shoulder to hip. The Night King raised his ice blade, but Aeron twisted at the last instant letting the black fire lick past the guard and scorch the frost off the undead king's cheek.
For the first time, there was a sound faint, like ice fracturing.
Aeron's grin widened. "Ah… there it is."
They clashed once more and frost exploding around them in shards.
The Shadow Monarch pressed harder, each strike sharper, faster driven not just by his strength, but by an unrelenting will to break the unbreakable.
Aeron didn't give him room to breathe. His body became a blur of raw violence, low sweeping cuts, and brutal two-handed strikes meant to break more than just bone. The Night King's parries were perfect, cold and precise, but Aeron pressed harder, stepping inside his guard with strikes that meant to batter him. Sparks, ice shards, and black embers lit the snowstorm around them.
Another heavy blow followed, and this time the Night King's footing faltered. His heel drove back into the snow, and for the first time, the ancient, frozen specter gave ground. Aeron's grin widened, predatory, as his blade snapped forward, cutting across the Night King's side. The armor cracked, a faint black line marring the flawless frost.
"You can definitely bleed," Aeron said, his voice low and cold.
Without hesitation, he stretched out his hand. Violet threads of power lashed forward, [Ruler's Authority] striking like a invisible wave, wrapping around the Night King's limbs and torso, locking him in place. The snow swirled harder, reacting to the pull of its power. Aeron's gaze sharpened, ready to drag the creature down and end it here..
..when the Night King's hands rose. No shout. No chant. Just a slow gesture.
The tide changed, and Aeron felt it an answering pressure. Invisible force surged against his own, shoving back. Ruler's Authority met something eerily similar… a cold, unyielding grip that wasn't his. His eyes widened.
"Well.." he muttered, the wind ripping his voice into the storm, "it's not really surprising anymore."
The two forces ground against each other, violet energy against glacial blue, the snow between them rising in a ring from the sheer clash of will. The Night King's blue gaze didn't waver, but Aeron leaned forward, greatsword still in hand, his grin returning like a wolf who'd just scented blood.
Then, without warning, Aeron's greatsword vanished from his grip his will propelling it like a black-flamed javelin straight for the Night King's head. The monstrous blade whistled through the air, cutting a streak of heat in the frozen wind.
It was inches from splitting the icy crown when the Night King's eyes flared a deadly, pale blue.
The wind howled. And a surge of pure winter erupted from him an expanding wave of ice so sudden and savage that it cracked the sound from the air. Snow was vaporized into a glittering storm, and the ground turned to a crawling wall of frozen death that devoured everything it touched.
Aeron's eyes widened. "What?!"
He wrenched himself aside with a violent pull of [Ruler's Authority], his body sliding across the snow like a shadow. At the same instant, he summoned the searing blaze of holy flames [Red God's Wrath] spilling from his hands in molten ribbons. The fire roared to life around him, colliding with the encroaching frost in a hiss of steam and blinding mist.
When the white shroud cleared, the battlefield was different.
The greatsword lay half-buried in a mound of ice, its black flames slowly burning away the frost. Around Aeron, the horde had thinned not from his blade or his shadows, they just vanished. A big number of wights and beasts were simply… gone, as if ripped from the world in the blink of an eye. The torn snow bore no tracks, no signs of retreat just emptiness.
And the Night King as well was nowhere to be seen.
Aeron's gaze swept the distance, his brows drawn low. The shadows of his army still tore through what undead remained, but the core of the enemy was missing.
His lips tightened into a thin, grim line. "So… you can teleport as well, can you?" His eyes narrowed, violet glow in them burning hotter. "Hold on..."
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If you Like this story! Check out my other stories! Shadow Monarch in DC
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