The snow burned.
Baron Ilmund’s flames tore through the blizzard, turning flakes to steam, corpses to ash. The world glowed orange and red, the once-white battlefield now a field of molten snow and ruin.
Justinian stood at the center of it all, his breath steady, armor still dripping blood.
"So this is the god’s chosen," he muttered. "A flaming idiot on a horse."
Ilmund heard him and grinned, his teeth gleaming beneath the inferno.
"You mock divinity even now? Let’s see how long your arrogance lasts, Duke!"
He raised his sword high, and the snow caught fire.
The crusaders roared behind him. Their blades shimmered with divine heat, their eyes shining like burning coals. The god Arethrus had heard their desperation and answered.
[Divine Buff: Flames of Purity – Active]
[All enemy units gain +50% Strength, +50% Morale]
[Duration: Until the Divine Vessel falls]
Justinian’s system rang coldly, like a bell tolling in a storm.
"So, this is the god’s trick," he whispered. "One man as the spark, an army as the flame."
He didn’t hesitate.
"Lucan! Pull the cavalry back to the ridge! Cassia, close the wall and retreat!"
His voice echoed through the storm, cutting through the firelight like a commandment.
"Do not engage head-on. He’s feeding them power!"
Cassia heard the command immediately, rallying her troops. "You heard the Duke! Fall Back!"
Lucan’s men fell back in tight order, snow exploding under their hooves. Even amid chaos, the discipline held.
But the crusaders?
They were no longer human.
The flames on their armor burned hotter than torches. Their screams had turned to chants. They threw themselves into Justinian’s walls like zealots born to die.
Justinian had decided to stop the all-out clash; it was too risky. All his men might be elite, but his opponents had now turned into literal embodiments of war.
"Afraid...?"
Baron Ilmund laughed, and at that moment, Justinian felt his power weakening; his domain had already expired, the limit fully depleted, as he had already used it on Raven and Besmund.
At the walls, the crusaders began to retreat, but not in a fleeing sense; they were regrouping, returning to the camp to reassess the situation with Ilmund’s new leadership.
"This is quite unfair, no?"
Justinian nervously laughed.
"Unfair? No, I think this is what you call karma."
Ilmund replied with a smirk. The entire battlefield had stopped, with Lucan and the rest of the soldiers on the battlements watching with bated breath at their conversation.
Crusaders moved past them as well, knowing that they shouldn’t intervene between two godlike figures.
"Ilmund...?"
Raven weakly muttered, lying on the snowy floor half dead, he was bleeding from nearly every orifice, from his face, it was a miracle he was still even alive.
And it probably was... with Arethrus surveying the battlefield, something only Justinian knew.
It was a miracle; there was no way the leader of the holy war would fall that easily.
Even a God would find that unentertaining.
"Raven...? You’re alive!?"
Ilmund flicked his eyes immediately. The three of them were as close as brothers, men forged in war and holiness as they all earned their land and titles with the help of each other.
And now... seeing Raven still alive, it had calmed him down.
But Justinian wasn’t just about to look and let them have a heart-to-heart.
"Ilmund."
"Justinian."
The two exchanged.
"Let’s have a ceasefire for a week. In return, I’ll let you bring Raven back."
"And if I refuse?"
"I’ll kill him."
Ilmund narrowed his eyes, his pupils burning literally as divine magic flowed throughout his veins. He had now become an arcanist.
An actual arcanist, and not a fake one like Justinian.
"You really are a devil..."
Ilmund spat out, unsheathing his sword. He was confident that, even if Justinian was to lunge at him now, it was likely that the flames being emitted from his body were enough to burn him alive.
It was risky to fight him head-on, and even riskier to continue the battle.
Justinian had hoped that he could buy them more time, but he was starting to run out of prestige as well.
"Ilmund... don’t."
Raven weakly protested from the ground, but Ilmund wasn’t about to let his comrade die in the snow.
He may be a misguided zealot, but he was still a worshipper of the gods, and that meant compassion, no matter how biased it was.
"I accept... but under one more condition."
"State your terms."
"No spies, just sheer strategy."
"I accept."
And with that, they both left towards their own side of the battlefield. The first day of the siege started with a bloodbath and ended with a ceasefire.
Justinian couldn’t help but think of it as unique; usually, battles like that only happened after a few weeks, but they just skipped and went straight to the battle.
But with Ilmund’s sudden gift, Justinian now had to rely on real strategies once more.
***
The moment Justinian entered back inside the city, he immediately dispelled his armor, leaving him only in a simple military garb with his mantle.
He was tired, drastically tired; the heat coming off from Ilmund alone was overpowering him.
"Are you okay!?"
Cassia was the first to approach, jumping at him and taking a good look at his appearance and condition.
An action that caused many of Justinian’s side to cough out, even in war, they still weren’t immune to Justinian and Cassia’s apparent beauty.
"I’m okay."
Justinian smiled, petting Cassia.
"What are the casualties?"
He asked as Lucan stepped down from the battlements, covered in blood; he was fatigued, both mentally and physically.
"We suffered minimal losses at the start, but it was still crippling; we’re still vastly outnumbered."
"Even with the number of casualties we dealt to the other side?"
"Even with that."
The first day of the siege, it was a decisive victory for Snowkeep, at least... for now.
*** A few hours later - Justinian’s room ***
As the city began its recovery and preparation, Justinian stayed in his room, sitting at his bed with a tired look on his face.
The side effects of using his domain were evident; even with his training, it still took a huge bite out of his endurance, but at least it was no longer crippling like before, a small victory, at least.
"So much happened already..."
Justinian laughed coldly.
"I’m guessing after the ceasefire... it would decide the entire war."
He couldn’t help but think of it as odd, a siege only ending after two encounters? The old him would have found it hilarious, but in a world filled with magic, it seemed obvious when literal gods could turn the tide of battle.