The life slipping from his fingers slowed. In his domain, Mordekaiser ruled as the master of death, and no living being could withstand his might. Yet, there was one force beyond his control—magic. The gift within Kylen awakened, summoning all its strength, and his body became encased in ice, shielding him from Mordekaiser's power.
The barrier separating the realm of death from the frostbitten lands began to crack. A howling blizzard surged in, freezing everything in its path. Weak but resolute, Kylen felt the bitter wind against his skin. Drawing a deeper breath, he reclaimed portions of the frozen wasteland as his own. Mordekaiser, sensing his power waning, exerted greater force, but he was merely a guest in these lands, presiding over only the death-stricken parts. Mother Nature herself intervened, aiding her child who dared to defy this vile abomination.
At last, Kylen rose to his full height. His body was gaunt, his hair had turned completely white, and his face bore the exhaustion of decades. His eyes blazed with fury, and his magic entwined with his native element, ready to obliterate the enemy.
"Even this won't save you. You will taste annihilation," Mordekaiser growled.
"Death doesn't scare me. I've seen its true face, and you are nothing but a pathetic imitation," Kylen retorted.
Clenching his mace tighter, Mordekaiser bristled at Kylen's defiance. He fancied himself the rightful god of death. Letting out a furious roar, he charged forward. Swinging his massive weapon, he sought to crush the impudent youth with a single blow. But the strike met an icy wall erupting from the ground, trapping the mace in its frozen embrace. Struggling to free it, Mordekaiser found himself unable to break its grasp.
Kylen darted along a path of ice, unleashing a flurry of frozen beams that struck Mordekaiser, encasing him further. Several shimmering clones of Kylen materialized in the frigid air, rushing to distract the enemy. Their blows rained down on Mordekaiser's armor, and he swatted at them with his free hand, shattering them into shards.
Finally wrenching his weapon free, Mordekaiser scattered the lingering ice and pursued Kylen, his mace swinging violently from side to side in an attempt to land a strike.
"Legions! Destroy him!" Mordekaiser's thunderous command echoed across the battlefield.
The anguished wails of the dead rose in response as his legions surged forward. Kylen knew the sheer numbers would overwhelm him if he didn't neutralize the main threat. Summoning three more clones, he sent them to hold off the advancing army.
Time was not on his side. Kylen would have to take a risk to defeat Mordekaiser swiftly. He noticed a glimmer of necrotic energy burning at the center of Mordekaiser's chest—a possible weak point.
His ice magic failed to penetrate the armor, halting at the surface. Despite numerous attempts, Kylen's attacks couldn't reach Mordekaiser's heart.
Closing the distance, Kylen froze Mordekaiser's limbs and drove his hands into the dark knight's chest. The deathly core within burned against his flesh, even through the ice coating his body. With all his strength, he pressed against the armor. Slowly, the metal began to crack, fracturing under the relentless force.
"How dare you!" Mordekaiser roared furiously, struggling to push Kylen away.
His hand broke free from the ice, and he grabbed Kylen by the throat, attempting to rip his head off.
Their battle teetered on a knife's edge—whether Mordekaiser's will or Kylen's mortal flesh would fail first. Yet the core within Mordekaiser's chest began to crack, slowly but surely. With one final effort, the core shattered. A torrent of unrestrained magic erupted outward, obliterating everything in its wake. Mordekaiser could no longer remain in the physical realm; the destruction of the core banished him to the afterlife, back to his own domain. The core had served as his anchor to the material world, much like the binding of spirits.
Part of his undead legion was annihilated in the cataclysmic explosion, which rippled across realms. Many magical beings felt the surge of energy, a dreadful tremor that echoed far and wide.
The remnants of Mordekaiser's army, following his last command, advanced on Kylen. He lay motionless on the frozen ground, veins blackened and his arms darkened by the corrupting influence. He breathed heavily, his body barely clinging to life through sheer force of will.
"You won't kill me so easily," Kylen muttered.
Frost began to rapidly coat his body. His heart stopped as he froze himself, halting the circulation of blood and, with it, the spread of necrosis. Rising to his feet, he looked out at the horde closing in. Snow and icy winds began to sweep over the desolate battlefield, offering him a fleeting respite.
The undead masses approached, their first attacks striking out at him. Kylen raised his arms, summoning his magic. The ground erupted with countless ice spears, impaling the undead and pinning them in place.
"Just a little more," Kylen murmured, stepping into the fray.
The battle stretched on for what felt like an eternity. Hours passed as he destroyed the undead, releasing their souls from torment. The battlefield was littered with remains, stretching for hundreds of meters. Exhausted, Kylen trudged forward, drawn by a call growing ever stronger.
His strength was nearly gone. Leaning on an icy staff for support, he could barely move. He clung to the hope that the runestone he sought would grant him the power to heal his broken body. Guided by the pull, he finally arrived at the entrance to a temple reminiscent of Ionian architecture.
However, time and catastrophe had ravaged the structure. The stones were riddled with cracks, many walls had collapsed, and large sections were missing entirely.
Entering the temple, Kylen spotted a soft blue glow in the distance, beckoning him closer.
"Take this power, and you will become the greatest mage," echoed the voice of the runestone.
As he approached, the source of the light revealed itself—a powerful magical stone surrounded by floating fragments, radiating an aura of unimaginable strength.
[image]
He was already reaching for it to claim it, but the runestone unexpectedly moved away, and Kylen collapsed onto the floor. Following it with his eyes, he saw the stone land in the icy grasp of Lissandra.
"You performed magnificently; this will truly be useful," Lissandra said, her voice filled with fascination as she gazed at the runestone. "So much power, knowledge, and mystery."
"Kh... kh..." Kylen couldn't even speak, only managing a rasp. He glared at Lissandra with fury, angered by her refusal to help him.
"What a pity that life is leaving you, but you have fulfilled your purpose. Know this: thanks to the runestone, the Freljord will be cleansed of gods and the Voidspawn, and I shall lead my people to a brighter future," she proclaimed solemnly.
Kylen had suspected she might deceive or betray him. Having spent all his strength, he was powerless to act, unprepared to face such a formidable enemy in this place. He knew she was no better than the false gods—sitting in her fortress, spreading her influence, yet never intervening or aiding the starving Frostborn in their darkest times.
"Reveal all your secrets to me," she whispered to the runestone, and streams of energy began to flow cautiously from it, wrapping around her hand. "I see... yes, so much knowledge," she murmured in awe.
But suddenly, the room began to vibrate, and a magical circle formed on the stones of the hall. In a blinding flash, a being resembling a human appeared.
Its skin was a deep violet, adorned with countless tattoos of magical symbols that enhanced its power. It had a beard of the same hue and a bald head. On its back hung a large scroll, and at its waist rested a book.
[image]
"Wait, don't do what you're planning," the stranger said firmly.
"Ah, it's you, Ryze. I was hoping you wouldn't interfere. You've taken almost all the World Runes, only to waste their power by hiding them away. I will never give you this one," Lissandra replied, her tone defiant.
"You're making a mistake. The power of these stones is beyond mortal comprehension. It corrupts the mind, and no one can resist it. I don't know who you are, but I beg you—reconsider," Ryze pleaded.
"Know who stands before you. I am Lissandra, the Ice Witch, leader of the Frostguard, and this artifact will be mine," she declared with authority. She prepared to unleash the stone's power, but her hand suddenly exploded in a burst of ice. The runestone, encased in frost, shot toward Ryze with great speed.
Lissandra's gaze darted to Kylen, who had, with the last of his strength, sabotaged her plans. He collapsed, utterly spent, unable to move.
"You did the right thing. I'll hide it from everyone and ensure its power never destroys the world again," Ryze solemnly promised the fallen warrior.
"No! I'll destroy you and take it from your cold, dead hands," Lissandra hissed, unwilling to relinquish even a fraction of the power she had tasted.
Ryze quickly sealed the runestone, securing it behind his back. Even he couldn't withstand its influence for long—it needed to be taken to the vault immediately. The tattoos on his skin flared with light as intricate magic began forming in his hands. Lissandra unleashed a storm of elemental fury, trying to freeze him, but her attack met a formidable magical barrier.
"Ha. I've faced enemies far worse than you," Ryze said with calm defiance, retaliating with raw magic that dispersed Lissandra's form in an instant.
"Do you think you can destroy me so easily?" Lissandra's voice echoed as her form reassembled from the frigid air.
"I didn't intend to," Ryze replied with a smirk. Before she could comprehend his meaning, she felt magic beneath her feet. Looking down, she saw a runic circle forming. A prison of pure magic encased her, sealing her essence completely. She struggled against it, but her entire being was trapped.
"As I said, I've faced far worse foes than you," Ryze said coolly.
He cast several intricate magical constructs, overlaying them onto her imprisoned figure, then snapped his fingers. Lissandra's form vanished. He had banished her influence from these lands, making it nearly impossible for her to return.
With Lissandra dealt with, Ryze took a moment to survey his surroundings. He had created the portal hastily, drawn by the overwhelming surge of magic and the energy of the World Rune. He now found himself in northern Ionia, in the desolate Wastelands, as the locals called them. This land reeked of death, and he hadn't expected a runestone to be hidden in such a place.
The aura of death still lingered in the air, though it had begun to dissipate as the cold claimed dominion. Who had driven death away? Ryze returned to the fallen warrior. Kylen's body was lifeless, but a magical core still faintly pulsed within him, partially preserving his soul. Yet something—or someone—was persistently trying to pull it into their domain.
"I won't let such a brave soul fall into your clutches, Mordekaiser," said Ryze as he channeled his knowledge to cast cleansing magic, freeing the body from death's grip. This wouldn't save his life, but it would keep him out of Mordekaiser's grasp. "This is all I can do for you. Forgive me; I don't know your name or your story, but know this: as long as I live, I will remember you and your actions," Ryze vowed solemnly, believing the warrior had fought Mordekaiser and encountered the World Rune, passing it on to him with his last breath.
Taking one last look at the body, Ryze created a portal and disappeared in a bright flash of light.
Kailen's body began to crystallize, breaking apart into tiny snowflakes that scattered with the wind. A fierce blizzard began to rage, as if nature mourned and raged over the loss of one of its own.
***********************
Ending such a life is cruel, but this was his destiny. Hoping to find a power capable of defeating the gods, he stumbled upon something he was never meant to find. Throughout his journey to the Rune, it consumed his thoughts. After overcoming Mordekaiser and realizing he could not allow the Rune to fall into Lissandra's hands, Kailen resolved to destroy or hide it. He hoped to prevent her from reaching it but gravely miscalculated, almost unleashing catastrophe. He didn't know Ryze but, hearing Lissandra's claim that he safeguarded the World Runes, he understood: it was better to leave them with Ryze than let her have them. Thus, he helped Ryze, completing his path.
POV: Kailen
Now, on my journey to the Spirit Realm, I see my life differently. I realize that my path always led to death. In pursuit of power and vengeance, there could be no other end. When I met Syndra, I began to consider abandoning revenge, to simply live, knowing I could never return home or see my son again. Perhaps, by raising my student, I could have asked her to find the remnants of my clan. But now it's too late to right my wrongs.
"We told you there's no escaping us," said the sheep as it appeared beside me.
"You'll be our feast," added the wolf.
I didn't even try to resist; I had no strength or desire left.
"How boring. Prey that doesn't run," said the wolf.
"The ones who don't fear death are the least interesting," the sheep added, drawing its bow and releasing an arrow that struck my chest with unerring speed.
In my final moments, I regretted leaving Syndra alone. She needed me, and I had, in essence, abandoned another child.
End POV
Thus ended the journey of a great warrior, one who inspired legends. Respected, feared, loved, and hated. Life was cruel to him; he was only a step away from attaining his goal.
POV: Captain Buck
Where are you, my eternal friend? I've waited for you so long, but you never came. I've asked everyone I could, and no one knows where you are. I hope one day you'll appear.
Finishing my letter, I left it with the abbot, who still treated me coldly.
Finally, I managed to recover from the damage done by the pirates and even arranged for a few connections to retire the old man, posthumously.
Business was thriving. I stopped chasing massive profits and acted more cautiously, working through intermediaries and wholesalers, keeping my face hidden, and avoiding making enemies among the authorities.
Only one thing weighed on my soul—my friend, whom I never saw again. He was the strongest warrior I've ever known in my life. I believe he'll be okay, and one day we'll meet again. And when that day comes, I'll make him drink rum with me.
End POV
POV: Syndra
I hate you, Master. You promised to return, but it's been over a year since you left. Every day I waited for you, standing by the monastery gates, watching the silhouettes, but you never appeared. I spent countless nights crying, praying to all the gods for your return. Master, you're no better than my parents, who spent their lives trying to rid themselves of me. I'll trust no one ever again.
Anger boiled within me toward all who had caused me pain. Even the temple I found myself in felt like a prison and a burdensome weight. I yearned to study magic, not empty martial arts. There was no point in swinging my arms and legs to gain strength. I already possessed immense power. Thank you for the lessons, but now I'll choose my path in life. The first thing I'll do is leave this foolish monastery.
End POV
POV: Lissandra
Plans have a way of falling apart—I know this all too well. Over the many years of my existence, much has gone awry, but the result of this exceeded all expectations. I thought Kailen would weaken Mordekaiser just enough for me to strike the decisive blow and claim the World Rune. Instead, he not only defeated him but also his entire legion and even survived. A truly remarkable warrior, but now it no longer matters—he is dead.
What frustrates me the most is that the World Rune ended up in Ryze's hands. His hiding places are exceptionally well-concealed, and catching him is nearly impossible. His power is awe-inspiring; he has drawn too much strength from the ancient artifacts, as evidenced by his magic and runes.
I will have to revise my plans, and I will start with Asur. He must become as strong as his father. The difference? He will love me deeply and trust me completely.
End POV
A hidden place deep in the mountains.
Behind a massive door lies a vault filled with gold, jewels, and artifacts. In the far corner, among discarded items piled carelessly, rests a small shard of pure ice, marked with the imprint of a hammer. The crystal glimmered faintly in the dim light of the room.