The clouds pierced the wall of fire. The cold air could freeze the cells of others, and almost immediately, the flaming phoenix was metamorphosed into its own opposite; it was turned into a statue of ice.
Boom!
Phoenix King had become ice, and all of his cells had frozen solid. Then, without notice, the composition of his being exploded into miniscule chips of ice that either pelted the field or submitted to the wind and were blown away.
The golden flames were gone, and Phoenix King had poofed out of existence in a haze of cold-blue dust. He respawned near his spirit statue.
The spirit base fell so quiet, you could hear a pin drop. Phoenix King had been utterly annihilated in the blink of an eye, and for a moment, every spirit thought they had slipped into a bizarre and surreal dream.
The King of Day was frozen, and he could hardly believe his eyes.
