The bright moon hung low, casting its pale gaze over the wilderness, silent and watchful.
Even as the Ice Knight dissolved, his face; carved from frost, remained focused on the Black Forest. His head, the last part of him to disappear, whispered faintly, "I'm here… to support… you…"
And then, he was gone.
The power of the scroll was spent.
The raging blizzard disappeared, leaving behind only echoes of its wrath. The biting cold dissolved into the air, and the once-turbulent battlefield fell silent.
---
The land was left scarred by the storm. Patches of unmelted ice and frost lingered, scattered across the ground like remnants of winter refusing to yield to spring.
The elite werewolf stood frozen in his final pose, claws extended in defiance, his body an eerie, bloodied ice sculpture. He had pushed beyond his physical limits, delivering one last, desperate strike against the blizzard's fury. But the cold had claimed him.
