CHAPTER 837: BLOODSHED IN THE ICE CUBE

"Face the might of Atila!"

As soon as those words left his mouth, Atila exploded forward like a flaming meteor, a living calamity charging through the sky. His speed was so great that the very air ignited in his wake. Without a moment of hesitation, Jormungandr responded in kind, launching his massive serpentine body with shocking agility.

The True Depravita of Gluttony knew he could not allow the enemy to seize momentum—especially not above the stronghold of Ice Cube, where a battle of such magnitude could mean destruction for the thousands of civilians and soldiers below.

Despite his colossal size, Jormungandr was terrifyingly fast. His tail lashed out like a lightning-charged spear, slamming toward Atila’s sword with a thunderous roar.

"BOOOOOOOOOMMM!"

The clash sent a shockwave of fire and lightning across the sky. The ground trembled under the force of the explosion, and even the clouds parted as energy radiated in every direction. But Atila, grinning manically, did not waver. His massive, cracked black blade met the serpent’s tail and held firm. His martial skill was monstrous—more than refined, it was otherworldly. With a fluid twist, he diverted Jormungandr’s tail, slipping past it with uncanny grace.

Before the lightning serpent could react, Atila was upon him. With a devastating lunge, he rammed his blade into Jormungandr’s chest. Though the sword lacked a traditional edge, its destructive force was even more terrifying. The weapon didn’t slice—it unmade, disintegrating anything it touched on a metaphysical level. Jormungandr’s body wracked with pain as his internal organs were torn apart from within. Crimson lightning-tinged blood spilled from his jaws as he was hurled skyward.

But Atila was relentless. He pursued instantly, blazing after the serpent like a predator closing in for the kill.

Yet he had made a critical mistake.

This was no ordinary foe. This was a True Depravita.

With a flash of radiant violet, Jormungandr’s Depravita Aura surged, regenerating his shattered internals at a speed no natural being could match. Twisting midair, the massive serpent slammed his tail directly into Atila’s chest.

"BOOOOOOM!"

The impact was cataclysmic. Charged with condensed lightning, the tail exploded on contact, engulfing Atila in a blinding nova of plasma and force. The warlord’s armored body was flung down like a meteor, crashing into the earth with a deafening roar. The impact split the battlefield for kilometers, forming deep fissures and turning solid stone into rubble.

Jormungandr hovered in the air, his form scorched and bleeding but defiant. He allowed himself a small, grim smile—he had landed a significant blow.

But the satisfaction was short-lived.

"Hahahahaha!"

From the massive crater below, Atila rose, smoke and fire clinging to his form. His nightmarish armor was chipped and cracked, but his eyes burned with wild joy. He licked the blood from his lips as if savoring the pain.

"It’s been centuries since he let me out. I see now—you and your kind are the reason."

Raising his monstrous blade to the sky, Atila’s voice deepened, echoing across dimensions.

"I hope your regeneration is as potent as it seems. I intend to enjoy this dance for a while."

Flames erupted around him, so hot that they consumed the very air. The oxygen ignited as he launched into the sky once again. Jormungandr met his roar with one of his own, unleashing a storm of lightning so fierce it split the clouds apart. The two collided once more, fire and thunder turning the sky into an apocalyptic canvas of war.

Below them, chaos reigned.

Inside the Ice Cube fortress, Mirena stood upon the walls, her gaze fixed upon the incoming abominations. Her voice was calm but commanding.

"Now!"

Her order echoed like a war bell. All around the fortress, long-range casters of the Xaos Kingdom raised their hands and unleashed a barrage of magical destruction. Dozens of spells lit up the sky—explosions of fire, ice, lightning, and raw arcane energy rained down upon the enemy lines.

"BOOM. BOOM. BOOM. BOOM."

The nightmarish horde suffered heavy losses. Twisted behemoths were vaporized, their groaning heads falling silent. Limbs were blown apart, black ichor splattering the snow. But if the creatures felt fear, they did not show it. They advanced without hesitation—without emotion—driven by some dark unity that transcended pain or survival.

Soon, the front ranks crashed into the Ice Cube.

They were grotesque. Creatures forged from bone, sinew, and hatred, covered in jagged armor of calcified flesh and barbs. Their eyes—dozens of them scattered across their malformed bodies—glowed with sickly green light. And though they moved like beasts, there was terrifying coordination in their actions.

They met the Reapers head-on.

With a roar, the Reapers attacked. A synchronized sonic blast erupted from their forms, slamming into the monstrous tide and halting their momentum. Then, with claws drawn and muscles primed, they surged forward.

It was a massacre.

Reapers tore through the abominations like living blenders. Flesh was shredded, limbs were severed, heads exploded beneath the fury of their strikes. Abominations screamed, clawed, bit, and bled—but they died.

Yet not all was victory.

In several sectors, the abominations broke through the Reaper lines. One of them unleashed a volcanic spike from its chest, piercing a Reaper’s thorax and splitting him in two. A group dragged three Reapers to the ground, tearing them apart with dozens of serrated limbs.

The battlefield turned into a crimson nightmare—one of blood, steel, and howling agony.

Above, the Royal Guards and Sages engaged high-tier horrors of their own, so they could not be of assistance. They were all engaged in fierce battles of their own as the Sage Tier aboniamaiton not only had an immense life force that allowed them to endure even if their hearts or heads were pierced, but they also were capable of all sorts of abilities.

This battle was a true bloodshed, and it was impossible to know who the winner would be, but one thing was certain for all the warriors of the Xaos Kingdom. The easy times in Exilon were gone, and it was time to face real and existential threats.