The Red Dragon's breath had set the deck ablaze, but the raging flames were now frozen by a storm of bitter cold. Derek Proudmoore felt as if he had been whisked in an instant from a fiery hell into the icy glaciers of Northrend--
Though Kel'Thuzad's spell was aimed mainly at the Red Dragon and its Orc rider, the young man standing behind the mage could still feel the temperature plummeting through the shifting air. The change was astonishingly swift. A white layer of frost had coated the deck beneath his feet, and the sweat that had formed on his forehead in the scorching heat had turned into tiny icicles.
Though it was only a fourth-circle spell, Kel'Thuzad's mastery of metamagic, bolstered by the enchanted ring his teacher had given him, made his Ice Storm even more powerful than some ordinary sixth-circle spells.
The howling storm swept toward the distant Red Dragon, carrying ice crystals as sharp as blades. Terrifying cold engulfed the Red Dragon's massive body, coating it in a thick layer of frost. Its enormous head, broad chest, and one razor-sharp claw were buried beneath the ice, gleaming with an eerie pale-blue sheen in the sunlight. The Orc rider on its back didn't even have time to scream before he became a giant block of ice and plunged into the sea.
And that was only the beginning.
Propelled by tremendous force, countless sharp shards of ice whirled rapidly around the Red Dragon. Some carved bloody gashes across its body; others plunged deep into its flesh. The young dragon's still-developing scales could not withstand these ice blades, driven by powerful Arcane magic. One after another, beautiful crimson blossoms burst open in midair.
"Roar!"
The badly wounded Red Dragon let out a howl and lunged forward, heedless of its injuries.