The Frost Giants had not given up yet. Apart from his own divine power, Nur had one last trick up his sleeve, a technique meant for taking down all enemies alongside them—Soleim's Incarnation of Winter.
Those Frost Giants, faces full of despair, showed a glimmer of resolve in their eyes.
"Our enemies can kill our bodies, but they cannot kill winter..."
"My father Soleim will bring eternal slumber to our enemies on the glacier stained with the blue blood of Frost Giants."
More than thirty Frost Giant warriors, adorned with Everfrost Runes, broke off some ice cones from the glacier and, without hesitation, stabbed them into their chests. They chanted an ancient and lengthy hymn, or rather, a curse—harboring the deepest hatred for the enemies who destroyed their tribe.
As the dark blue blood seeped through cracks into the ground, the glacier, bathed in brilliance, rumbled and quaked violently once again.
"Everfrost's foe—"
A roar echoed through the clouds.