Rise Of Hades' Hellborn: Trumpets Of The Damned

Beyond The Cold Front

Myles spun on his heels to block a sudden charge from a figure that came at him from behind.

Their swords crashed in a flurry of sparks hell forged sword against demonic frostbite inflicting blade. 

Myles barely had the time to breathe before successfully executing blocks for several other attacks. 

One of them in particular nearly sent him hand numb while a major shockwave of born from the clash of two powers evened out.  

Myles strained to maintain the block while he finally got a look at his newest assailant.

A figure from the mist towering, regal, and terrifying. Its body was shaped like a man but forged of glacial armor, with a helm of jagged ice and shoulders that billowed frost like steam from a volcano. Pale blue eyes gleamed beneath its visor.

The Frost Warden.

This was a demon born from the brutality of the absolute zero. It had a blue grey skin color along with two blue slit eyes and two tattered wings in back. 

It held a sword that looked forged from the essence of steel and ice to form a compound that no mortal should ever suffer an injury from.

He gripped the hilt of the Oblivion Requiem sword tightly, its black metal humming with the hunger of the underworld. Purple flames licked along the edges, casting eerie shadows across the lake. His breath fogged the air.

"Where am I?" he muttered.

A voice answered from the dark.

"In the place where cold outlasts memory."

"You were not invited," it said, voice slow and rumbling like cracking glaciers.

"I never ask for invitations," Myles said, taking a step forward. The purple flames around his sword flared higher.

"The Watch has disturbed the order," the Warden said, pointing a great icy spear toward Myles. "And you carry its fire."

"I carry more than fire now," Myles growled. "Let’s see if you melt."

He lunged.

The clash rang across the void. Sword met spear, and the impact rippled through the lake like thunder in a still sky. Myles slid back, boots skimming across the ice, before digging in and vaulting forward again.

The Warden rotated his spear with monstrous precision, striking low. Myles deflected, but frost leapt up his forearm, biting into flesh through his coat. He snarled and unleashed a wave of purple hellfire to burn it away.

The frost hissed.

The Warden stepped through the flame like it was mist. He raised his hand and summoned a blizzard, one that collapsed over the lake like a tidal wave. Myles was buried in snow, vision blinded, breath stolen. Ice formed on his eyelashes.

He roared, slamming the tip of Oblivion Requiem into the ground. Purple fire exploded outward in a 360-degree ring, incinerating the snow and revealing the Warden only a few feet away, arm cocked.

Too late.

The spear slammed into Myles’ ribs, launching him across the lake. He crashed into a mound of rising ice, smashing it apart. Coughing blood, he staggered to his feet.

"This isn't your realm," the Warden said. "Here, your flame fades."

Myles wiped his mouth. "You think a dream changes what I am?"

He raised his left hand. Flames ignited in his palm—but not red. Not orange.

Purple hellfire.

It coiled around his arm, weaving upward to merge with the blade. The Oblivion Requiem shimmered, its dark edge glowing like a dying star.

"Let's end your ice age," Myles muttered.

He charged, flames trailing behind him like a comet. This time, he faked left, then blinked through the mist in a blur, appearing at the Warden’s side. The sword came down hard.

The Warden raised his spear to block, but the impact cracked it. Purple fire seared the shaft.

The Warden shoved him back, but Myles pressed in, slashing fast and wild. Every swing left trails of purple across the air. One caught the Warden’s pauldron and shattered it, sending a shard of ice spinning into the void.

The Warden roared and slammed a fist into the lake, summoning a geyser of razor-sharp icicles that chased Myles like missiles. Myles leapt, sliding across the slick surface, spinning and slicing the projectiles mid-air. One grazed his leg, drawing blood and freezing around the wound instantly.

"Still warm enough to bleed," the Warden taunted.

Myles grinned through clenched teeth. "Still hot enough to burn."

He jammed his sword into the ice and focused. Purple hellfire spiraled out in veins under the surface, racing toward the Warden.

Too slow.

The Warden stabbed downward, freezing the energy mid-flow.

Myles lifted his hand and whispered, "Oblivion bloom."

The frozen veins detonated. The ice erupted beneath the Warden's feet, lifting him into the air amidst a pillar of dark flame. His armor began to melt at the edges.

Myles blinked into the air and crashed down, blade-first.

The Warden twisted mid-fall and blocked with his forearm. The sword sank inches into enchanted froststeel.

Myles was face-to-face with him now, the fire reflecting in his enemy’s pale blue eyes.

"You're cracking," Myles said.

"So are you."

The Warden's free hand grabbed Myles by the neck and hurled him across the battlefield. He skidded across the ice, his sword flying from his grip and vanishing into the mist.

The Warden stomped toward him, spear reforging in his hands.

Myles lay gasping. His limbs felt like lead. Frost crept over his fingers.

"You will forget yourself here," the Warden declared. "This place erodes all will."

"You don't know me."

Myles forced himself up. Purple fire ignited along his shoulders, pushing back the frost. His body smoked with heat. His eyes glowed again.

He raised both hands. Purple fire swirled into a vortex above his palms.

"I don't need a sword. I am the fire."

The fire collapsed into a single point. He punched it forward.

It struck the Warden full-on.

A singularity of hellfire erupted across the demon's chest, punching through armor and bursting out his back. The Warden staggered.

"This flame... it's older than you..."

"I know," Myles replied.

He raised one hand, called the sword back from the dark. It answered, embedding into his palm. The blade screamed to life.

He charged.

One final clash.

Sword met spear in a shower of sparks. The ground beneath them split. Cracks raced across the lake. Dream or not, the realm was failing.

Myles ducked under the Warden’s swing, slashed up, and severed one leg at the knee. Ice exploded. The Warden fell to one side. Myles stepped in and drove the blade deep into the Frost Warden’s core.

For a moment, time paused.

The demon looked up. "He watches you, even here. Hades. The old gods."

"Let them."

Myles twisted the sword.

A pulse of purple flame burst from the wound.

The Warden screamed and shattered into crystalline dust, scattered by violet wind.

Myles stood alone once more.

The lake beneath him melted into mist, the stars overhead flickered and faded.