The soldiers roared as they poured down scalding molten iron.
The molten metal cast the clustered Others into twisted metal statues.
The mages' chanting merged into a low, rumbling peal of thunder.
Finn did not appear on the front lines.
His chariot formations deployed behind an ice hill three li from the flank of the main battlefield.
The [Frost Roar Repeating Crossbow Cannon] atop the chariots slowly adjusted their angles.
The massive bolts were not aimed at the tide of Others beneath the walls, but subtly targeted several critical points along the fortress walls.
Those support Towers, heavily guarded by the Grace Royal Guard and connected to the energy pipelines of the arcane furnaces.
They were all vital points in the defensive line.
"Icefield Hunters, engage in free sniping."
"Targets: anyone wearing a golden Griffon insignia, including royal officers and any commanders attempting to organize a countercharge."
The cold, merciless orders were delivered through encrypted Communication Crystals.
Like phantoms in the snow, the Icefield Hunters dispersed in search of the best firing positions.
The faint, distinctive mechanical clicks of [Golden Fox Venom Kiss] crossbows rose one after another.
The next moment, atop the fortress walls, a Grace centurion waving a battle flag to rally the soldiers suddenly went rigid.
Without warning, a ghostly blue ice blossom erupted from his chest.
Before he could even scream, he became an ice statue covered in eerie blue frost and crashed to the ground.
Then came the second, the third...
Precise, efficient death spread through the defending commanders like a Plague.
Gaps of chaos instantly appeared in the command atop the walls.
Inside the fortress, in the command hall.
King Yarogluk Grace stood with his beard and hair bristling.
His heavy winter-wolf fur cloak was splattered with dark crimson blood and melted snow.
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