The towering beast of ice and shadow loomed over Inarius, its jagged, frost-covered body reflecting the pale light of the frozen wasteland. The guardian's glowing blue eyes fixed on him, promising death. With a roar that shook the earth, it lunged forward, its massive claws tearing through the air like icy scythes.
Inarius dodged the attack, the cold wind of its strike brushing past him. Purple flames roared to life along his blade, illuminating the bleak landscape as he swung it toward the guardian's torso. The flames licked at the creature's icy form, melting chunks of its armor-like exterior, but the beast retaliated with a bone-shattering swipe of its arm, catching Inarius in the side and sending him tumbling through the snow.
He groaned, feeling the impact reverberate through his ribs, but quickly regained his footing. "You're a tough one," he muttered, spitting blood into the snow. "But I've fought worse."
The guardian roared again, this time summoning icy shards from the ground. They erupted like spears, hurtling toward Inarius with deadly precision. He slashed through them mid-air, his sword ablaze with sin-fueled flames, but one shard grazed his shoulder, leaving a frozen gash. The cold seeped into his wound, numbing his arm.
Snarling in frustration, Inarius unleashed a torrent of flames from his sword, creating a barrier of heat that melted the oncoming shards. He charged forward, his blade swinging in wide, arcing strikes that left trails of fire in their wake.
The clash of frost and fire shook the battlefield. The guardian's massive claws clashed against Inarius's flaming sword, each impact creating shockwaves that shattered the icy ground beneath them. The beast's brute strength was overwhelming; every strike felt like it could flatten a mountain. But Inarius was relentless, his movements fueled by rage and the raw power of sin.
He ducked under a sweeping blow from the guardian and drove his sword upward, plunging it deep into the creature's chest. Purple flames erupted from the wound, spreading across its icy body. The beast howled in agony, its blue glow flickering like a dying star, but it wasn't finished yet.
With a desperate lunge, it grabbed Inarius in its massive claw and slammed him into the ground. Ice cracked beneath the force, and Inarius felt his body scream in protest. The creature raised its other claw, aiming to crush him completely, but Inarius acted quickly.
Summoning every ounce of his power, he poured his energy into his sword, causing the flames to burn brighter and hotter than ever before. The purple fire spread along the creature's arm, forcing it to release him. Inarius leapt to his feet and drove his blade straight into the guardian's head.
The beast let out one final, earsplitting roar as the flames consumed it. Its icy form shattered into countless shards, which rained down like glittering snow.
Panting, Inarius stood over the remains of the guardian, his sword still glowing with heat. He wiped blood from his lip and looked up at the looming Icecrown Citadel in the distance.
"Not bad," came the Dark One's voice, his tone tinged with amusement. "You've proven yourself worthy of the fourth trial. But the final test awaits."
Inarius's eyes narrowed. "What is it?"
The Dark One's laughter echoed through the frozen wasteland. "You must ascend the Icecrown Citadel and face the ruler of this world—the Lich King. He commands the dead and wields power over ice and death itself. Defeat him, and you will prove yourself my true champion."
Inarius sheathed his sword, his body still aching from the fight. "Fine. Let's finish this."
The gates of the citadel groaned open as Inarius approached. Inside, the air was thick with frost and the stench of decay. The walls of the citadel were carved from ice, glowing faintly with a pale, ghostly light.
The journey upward was grueling. The citadel was crawling with monstrosities—shambling undead creatures fused with ice, their bodies grotesque and malformed. They attacked in relentless waves, forcing Inarius to fight every step of the way.
With each battle, his flaming sword carved through flesh and ice alike. Purple flames roared through the halls, reducing his enemies to ash. The icy floors were soon slick with melting frost and blackened blood. Despite the carnage, the creatures kept coming.
One particularly massive beast—a grotesque amalgamation of corpses—charged at him, its many arms flailing wildly. Inarius leapt onto its back, driving his sword into its spine and setting it ablaze. The creature let out a tortured wail before collapsing in a heap.
As he ascended higher, the battles grew fiercer. Frost wraiths darted through the air, their icy blades slashing at him from all directions. Inarius's movements became more ruthless, his strikes more precise. He used his sin-fueled power to heal his wounds, but the effort left him drained.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity of slaughter, Inarius reached the top of the citadel. Massive double doors loomed before him, their surfaces etched with intricate patterns of ice and bone. He pushed them open, stepping into a cavernous throne room.
At the far end of the chamber sat the Lich King. His throne was carved from black ice, radiating an aura of death and despair. The Lich King himself was a towering figure clad in jagged armor, his skeletal face partially concealed by a horned helmet. In one hand, he held a massive frost-covered sword, its blade glinting with a deadly light.
The Lich King's glowing blue eyes fixed on Inarius, and a cold, mocking laugh filled the room.
"So, you are the one who dares to challenge me," the Lich King said, his voice a chilling echo. "Come, then. Let us see if you are worthy to stand before the king of ice and death."
Inarius tightened his grip on his sword, his flames flaring to life once more. Without a word, he stepped forward, ready for the final battle.