Silent Star

What hung high above was no longer the Winter Star. It was an eye that the cold, indifferent heavens had suddenly opened—a deathly pale, blue-tinged Silent Star.

In an instant, its light did not illuminate the starry sky. It brutally erased the sky's original colors, leaving only a white that made hearts tremble.

Endless free-floating ice energy particles rushed in as though they had heard their sovereign's command.

They were no longer gentle elements. They became a dark-blue pillar of light, pure to the extreme, without a trace of impurity.

That pillar was filled with despair, Destruction, and death. This was more than a spell. It was a rule, the ruthless dominion of the Old Ones from the primeval age, descending upon the earth once more.

There was no chance to dodge, let alone resist.

In an instant, Ignatius, the Flame Demon who had seemed invincible only a moment before, was struck by the dark-blue pillar.

His figure and all his arrogant fury vanished into that brilliant, almost otherworldly blue light. He did not scream. Sound could not travel as fast as the freezing cold.

Then the dark-blue radiance spread outward from Ignatius in every direction.

Scalding lava, distorted light, shattered space—everything, tangible or otherwise, was engulfed by that deep blue.

It was as though a solidifying tide had surged into the river of time, spreading outward in layer after relentless layer.

The temperature of this space was not falling. It was collapsing.

The heat from the flames and lava, hot enough to melt steel, was greedily devoured by the cold.

A bone-piercing chill spread. Even the air seemed to freeze solid, pressing against everyone's lungs with suffocating force.

Time itself seemed to stop, like an insect sealed in amber.

When the disturbance subsided, the Winter Star hanging overhead dimmed,