Snowstorm

"Those who resist will die!" Carrying his Bloodfire Battleaxe on his shoulder, Duoluo let out an enraged roar. The ducal manor's personal guards stood no chance against the charge of the hobgoblin army. Every time Duoluo swung his battleaxe, a crimson arc sliced through the air, severing several men in succession as blood sprayed everywhere. Archers in the distance tried to shoot down the terrifying monster, but the long muskets held by the hobgoblin skirmishers cracked in a ragged volley, sending up wisps of pale blue smoke. Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Like Death tallying a ledger, an archer fell with every gunshot. Refined firearms, the dragon bloodline's blessing, and the crucible of warfare had turned these hobgoblin skirmishers into lethal slaughterers on small-scale battlefields, capable of swiftly dismantling a hundred-man human force with ease. Duoluo wiped the blood from his face, exhaled a stream of white vapor, and grinned ferociously. "Let's go drag that ridiculous duke out." "Let him see... what hell really looks like." After months of peace, he had long been starved for battle. Before the red dragon could even assign commanders, Duoluo had volunteered to spearhead this lightning siege. His hobgoblin army had swept through everything before them, breaching several cities in rapid succession and filling his heart with supreme confidence. This battle was going just as he had anticipated. Equipped with the latest Dragonfire Muskets, his hobgoblin skirmishers crushed the opposition like dry leaves, bringing the fight to a swift, overwhelming close. Yet just moments ago, right as they shattered the city's defenses, a long, eerie horn blast had echoed abruptly through the streets. The sound was bizarre, chilling him to the bone and stirring a flicker of doubt. "Still... what on earth was that sound?" Whatever. Catch the duke first, think later, Duoluo decided. Suddenly, a violent wind whipped through the air. A few snowflakes drifted onto Duoluo's face, making him shiver involuntarily. The cold-averse dragonblood hobgoblin scratched his head and shuddered all over, a puzzled expression settling onto his hideous face. "Did I lose track of time? Winter hasn't even begun yet." "How is it snowing...?" Even on the Great Anzetta Waste, often called the Land Without Spring, an early snowfall like this was rare—let alone inside a comparatively warm city. Whoosh— The gale only worsened, thick chills rolling outward and mingling with hail the size of beans until a miniature snowstorm formed midair. Duoluo was finally on guard. His trembling hand tightened around the haft of his battleaxe as he realized that a blizzard materializing out of thin air was by no means a natural phenomenon! He immediately fell back, pulling away from the area, not forgetting to shout a warning: "Stay alert! This isn't ordinary wind and snow!" "It's magic!" The hobgoblins scrambled to retreat, but the snowstorm pursued them like a living beast, howling in their wake. "Damn it, it really is magic." "Motherfucker, how could a backwater like this have a spell of this caliber?" "Those yuan-ti in Intelligence ought to be lined up and shot!" Looking back at the encroaching blizzard, Duoluo spat in disgust. The Principality of Norton was ranked near the bottom of the Kingdom of Cinders' internal assessments. It hardly had a respectable army to speak of, existing merely as a lapdog dependent on Bosque. Who would have thought magic of this level could appear here? "Die!" At the epicenter of the blizzard stood a hideous giant with pale-blue skin. He hovered in the air, a massive horn strapped to his back, the magical tattoos across his flesh glowing with a freezing azure light. Holding an icicle in hand, he commanded the tempest like its master—Grand Duke Oliver himself. He was laughing like a madman, his pupils exuding boundless chill and radiating a piercing blue glare. "Tremble, minions of the reptile!" "Witness true power!" "I am the blizzard!" Along with his laughter, the snowstorm swirling around him grew even more violent, expanding relentlessly outward. Hobgoblins who failed to escape in time lingered in the freezing domain for only a moment before their bodies stiffened with cold. Frost crept swiftly over their skin until they became immobile ice statues, frozen in the exact postures of their final moments. "Look... is that His Grace?" "Heavens, what is that?" "So cold..." "I can't feel my hands..." As the tempest raged, many of the city's residents were caught unaware by the horrific disaster. Grand Duke Oliver showed not the slightest concern for their lives. Unleashing the power of the Horn of Everfrost with complete abandon, he turned everything within a hundred meters into a world of white, leaving ice statues in grotesque poses scattered along the snow-covered streets. "What kind of monster is this?!" "That's no low-tier spell!" Duoluo fled in disarray, cursing viciously. Even he wouldn't last long if he stepped into that frozen domain. Boom! Seeing the storm bearing down, the dragonblood hobgoblin threw his battleaxe aside without hesitation and bounded over twenty meters in a single leap, narrowly clearing the edge of the tempest. Fortunately, his dragon bloodline granted him superior agility, allowing him to pull away faster. "Minion of the reptile, struggle no more!" "You cannot fight the blizzard!" Master of the storm, Grand Duke Oliver showed no intention of giving up. He pursued Duoluo all the way to the city outskirts, bent on utterly destroying this so-called Jealous Warmonger and depriving the hateful red dragon of his right-hand man. "This can't go on!" Reaching the outskirts, Duoluo looked back at the closing blizzard. His face turned grim, and he gritted his teeth as he crushed the crimson crystal in his grip. He shouted desperately toward the shattered shards: "Master, save me!" This was the Flame Dragon Crystal—a message crystal reserved strictly for clan leaders within the Kingdom of Cinders, capable of establishing direct contact with the red dragon in times of dire crisis. Though a dragonblood hobgoblin was fearless in battle, he had no desire to die senselessly to such magic. He had no choice but to swallow his pride and plead for the red dragon's help. Whoosh— The wind and snow roared. Duoluo had not entirely given up fighting. Summoning every last ounce of strength, he charged straight toward Duke Oliver at the heart of the snowstorm. "I'll tear you apart!" Yet the white domain inexorably engulfed him. The dragonblood hobgoblin's massive frame shuddered as his movements stiffened. Solid ice plated his scale-covered face, and frost crept over his eyelids. Even so, thanks to the burning, vigorous red dragon bloodline coursing within him, his immense vitality kept him alive. His teeth still chattered continuously, and his eyelids slowly blinked against the frost. "Damn it..." "If I die like this, that idiot ogre Trump will never let me hear the end of it." "I can't... die here..." At the brink of death, that was all Duoluo could think. After only a few minutes in this extreme cold, his body had gone completely numb and insensate. Worse still, his thoughts were grinding to a halt, as though his very mind were about to freeze over.