In the crucible of this purification ritual, Aermir faced the pinnacle of his efforts, the convergence of fire and nature, desperately repelling the Night's King's malice. But the power of purification was too overwhelming; Aermir couldn't withstand it, and he began to scream in agony. The power was so pure that his body simply couldn't handle it; it felt like trying to pour two liters of water into a one-liter container. He felt himself being torn apart. His body was on the verge of death from the inability to contain the magic; his cells were bursting, but he could also sense the Marking Curse weakening. Aermir gritted his teeth and shouted.
" Wildfire Spirit, ignite everything within you!"
In an instant, the hellfire shrank, but then, with a burst of energy, it shot straight into the sky, forming a pillar of emerald green with alternating silver and deep red hues. Aermir used the last of his magic power to unleash his most powerful healing spell.
" Reogumen!( Regeneration )"
As he cast the final spell, the seal around the mark shattered, and a crack appeared beneath his feet, forming an entrance that swallowed him. He plummeted into darkness, and when Aermir opened his eyes, he found himself on a snow-covered plain, but his heart began to pound with fear at the sight before him.
Aermir felt a chill run down his spine as he was enveloped by the cold wasteland and the ominous presence of the Night's King and his Others. The Night's King's icy gaze was fixed on Aermir, a haughty smile playing on his pale lips. Aermir realized he still bore the mark, but his magic had been replenished; he couldn't be sure if this was interstellar travel or if the Night King had simply used a portal to pull Aermir to his side.
Aermir considered the implications of his situation, tentatively testing whether this was interstellar travel. He tried to fly as he would during celestial travel, but he couldn't; the sensation of his hands touching the cold snow confused him. His senses were perfectly normal. Then it dawned on him—this wasn't a celestial projection, nor was it simply a dream. Was this possible? Was it all real?
Aermir had heard that the Green Men could travel through time, and that communication with people from the past was forbidden. Therefore, it was not far-fetched for the Night's King to summon him with his mark, just as he summoned his familiars with their connection. He had never considered that this was possible, for countless ideas had been running through his mind.
As he pondered, a voice colder than the Arctic wind shattered the silence. "You are fighting for a failed cause; I will add you to my army," the Night's King proclaimed, his words hanging in the air like an impending storm.
Aermir straightened his back, bracing himself against the chilling fear, and raised his head to meet the Night's King's piercing gaze. "I am not fighting for myself, but for the balance between humanity and nature," Aermir replied, his voice resolute. But this was all a bluff, a way to buy time and reflection. "Your conquest will only bring death and endless winter. I stand against you, not for a failed cause, but for the living, for the future of this world that still breathes."
The Night's King's laughter echoed through the desolation, like a sinister and malevolent symphony. It was less laughter and more like cold fragments scraping against each other.
His cold eyes fixed on Aermir, his pale lips curving into a deeper smile. "Living people cling to false hope, Druid. Your futile resistance will only hasten their demise; as you strengthen your magic, I will also grow stronger, and in time, your ancient shield will no longer protect you."
Aermir was not intimidated by the Night's King's mockery; he stood firm. "You underestimated the resilience of the living. This is not false hope, but tenacious endurance, a struggle to transcend your cold reign. Your view of conquest mocks true power—power that resides in the delicate balance between life and death."
The Night's King raised his cold hand, and the Others flanked him from both sides, their icy gazes fixed on Aermir. "You, Druid, are but a fleeting glimmer of light before the harshness of eternal winter. Join us, embrace the endless night, and become a messenger of the cold. Your futile resistance will not change the inevitable outcome. Join me."
Aermir's eyes trembled. His master—who was he talking about? He needed time; he needed more information. "I will not yield to the darkness you seek to spread. The kingdoms of men will endure, and the forces of nature will rise up against your tyranny." It seemed the Night's King would not allow it. The Others charged at him, and using his replenished magic, he slammed his hands into the ground, creating an earthen dome around himself.
He needed time to think; his breathing became erratic. He felt something suffocating him. He was having a panic attack. He patted himself, trying to calm himself down. He could feel his magic and cast it; it had to be real; last time, he hadn't felt it and couldn't cast spells.
Bang
Despite the ice spears relentlessly piercing the dome around him, Aermir remained focused on his summoning incantation. With each strike, he could glimpse the sharp tip of the frozen projectile, and the urgency of the situation weighed on him. Time was of the essence, and he knew he had to be prepared.
Aermir drew upon the magic flowing within him, summoning each of his familiars. As his familiars gathered around him, Aermir could feel the magic binding them together. The dome was battered and bruised from the relentless attacks, but it provided a temporary refuge for his magical allies.
Surrounded by his family members, Aermir, holding " Red Rain," pulled " Moon Goddess " from Sith's saddle. He knew that facing magical creatures required more than just summoning. He used his remaining magical reserves to channel his magic, raising their physical abilities to their peak.
Aermir didn't stop there. He wrapped each familiar in two protective shields, woven intricate shield spells around them, and cast Stoneskin on them. Although encased in stone, the livestock retained most of their agility, ready to fight any magical opponents that awaited them.
Aermir shifted his attention to himself, replicating a protective layer around his body. Stone armor enveloped him, and he placed the Red Rain at his waist, then gripped the Moon Spirit Sword in one hand and mounted the Sith. Just as he was ready, a larger, more terrifying ice spear pierced through their entire dome. Fortunately, it didn't hit anyone. Aermir could sense the Night's King's magical aura; he didn't take Aermir seriously.
He took a deep breath, strengthened his resolve, and unleashed another earth-based spell. The dome exploded like Claymore, sending rock fragments flying in all directions.
When the rocks struck the approaching Others, they felt a tremendous impact; Others were knocked back or injured, but their miraculous regenerative abilities allowed them to quickly recover from their minor wounds. Aermir, now freed from the dome's restraints, spurred the Sith forward, leading his familiars into the center of the magical vortex that awaited them.