The northern winds howled like dying beasts.
Ragnar stood at the edge of the frozen ridge, his cloak snapping in the wind. Below him stretched a land of pale fog and black ice — mountains gnawed by storms, forests frozen mid-scream, and rivers buried beneath centuries of frost. Even the sky seemed dead, its clouds heavy and motionless.
Behind him, Selene trudged through the snow, her breath visible in short, sharp bursts. The silver chains around her wrist glimmered faintly, reacting to the aura that filled the air. Each step left a trail of light before the wind devoured it.
Kael walked beside her, quiet as ever, his gaze fixed on the horizon. Dax followed a few paces back, cursing under his breath and kicking at the ice with every other step. Ruin was last sword on his back, eyes darting between the jagged cliffs like a predator waiting for a fight.
The silence was strange. Too still. Too perfect.
It wasn't peace. It was the kind of silence that came after something ancient had died.
"This place," Dax muttered, "feels wrong. Like the world stopped breathing."
Ragnar didn't answer. He felt it too that faint pulse beneath the ground, a rhythm older than any sect, any empire. The shadow within him stirred restlessly, whispering fragments of a language he didn't understand.
Selene stopped beside him. Her silver eyes glowed faintly under the gray sky. "The Nexus energy here… it's distorted. Whatever happened in this land, it wasn't natural."
"Natural or not," Kael said evenly, "we keep moving. Our pursuers won't stop just because the air feels cursed."
He was right. The Purge Units had fallen silent after their last defeat, but Ragnar knew it wouldn't last. They were regrouping. Gathering stronger forces. The higher sects would not forgive what he had done.
The Law Thief who devoured fragments of Heaven — that name was spreading faster than wildfire.
Ragnar's hand brushed the side of his cloak, where a faint heat pulsed — the fused Law fragment he had absorbed days ago. Its power was unstable, alive in a way no energy should be.
And it was changing him.
They set camp inside the ruins of an ancient fortress — half-buried under the snow, its black stone walls still standing like the bones of a dead giant. The group lit a small fire in the main hall, its light flickering across the cracked carvings of warriors long forgotten.
Selene sat close to the flames, her eyes distant. "This fortress belonged to the Northern Cult," she murmured. "They believed every Law came from sacrifice. To gain power, one must first give something away."
Ragnar looked at her. "And what did they give?"
Selene's voice turned quiet. "Themselves."
Her words hung in the air like smoke.
Dax made a face. "Great. Just what we needed — ghost stories."
But Kael didn't smile. His eyes traced the walls where faint markings still glowed, barely visible. "Those aren't stories. The Cult left something behind. Look."
Ragnar followed his gaze — and saw them: faint circles drawn into the stone, spirals filled with frozen blood and runes that pulsed in rhythm with his heartbeat.
The shadow inside him hissed, "Hungry. Feed."
For a moment, the world dimmed. Ragnar's vision flickered — and he saw flashes: men screaming, the fortress burning, a sky of crimson snow.
He snapped back to reality, clutching his head.
Selene leaned forward instantly. "Ragnar—!"
"I'm fine," he muttered, though his voice shook. The Law inside him was reacting violently — as if the fortress recognized what he carried.
Kael's eyes narrowed. "You're not fine. Whatever this place is, it remembers you."
Ragnar met his gaze. "Or it remembers what I've become."
Later that night, when the others slept, Ragnar stood alone outside the ruins. The northern lights shimmered faintly above — a river of green fire stretching across the black sky.
He closed his eyes, letting the cold bite into him. His shadow spread across the snow, long and shifting. Somewhere deep inside, the voice returned — the same one that had haunted him since the Nexus shattered.
"You devour, yet you never understand. Power without purpose is only hunger."
He clenched his fists. "Then tell me my purpose."
The voice laughed softly. "You think the Heavens will answer? No… you will find your purpose only when you decide who must burn."
A faint crunch of footsteps broke the silence.
Selene approached, her cloak drawn tight. "You're talking to it again," she said quietly.
Ragnar didn't deny it. "It never shuts up."
She came to stand beside him, her eyes fixed on the distant aurora. "Maybe it's not just the shadow talking. Maybe it's you — the part of you that's too afraid to stop."
Ragnar turned to her. "You think I'm afraid?"
Selene's smile was small, almost sad.
"Everyone who carries a curse is."
They stood there for a long time, saying nothing more. The wind carried their breath away, leaving only silence — the kind of silence that said more than words could.
By dawn, the storm had cleared. The group prepared to move again. But before they could, a deep rumble echoed beneath the fortress floor.
Ruin drew his sword immediately. "What now—?"
The ground split open.
Ice and stone shattered, and a wave of black energy erupted from below, throwing them all back. The air filled with screams that weren't human. From the crack rose something that looked like a statue of obsidian — but it moved.
Its body was carved with thousands of runes, each glowing with dying Laws. A guardian of the old Cult — awoken by Ragnar's presence.
Kael's expression hardened. "Everyone, move!"
The statue turned its hollow face toward Ragnar. Its voice was like grinding stone. "Law Thief… you carry the hunger. You should not exist."
Ragnar's eyes burned black. "Then try to erase me."
The shadow surged, flames bursting from his hand — Abyssal Blackfire meeting the creature's ancient glow. The air screamed as two powers collided, melting ice and shattering stone.
Selene's chains lashed outward, anchoring the fortress walls before the explosion consumed them all.
When the light faded, half the ruins were gone — and the statue stood still, cracked but not broken.
Ragnar breathed heavily, his body trembling from the drain. The thing took a step forward, raising an arm the size of a mountain.
And then
BOOM.
The ground collapsed beneath it. Kael's blades, wrapped in compressed air, severed its core with surgical precision.
The guardian's body froze mid-motion, then crumbled into black dust.
Silence returned.
Dax exhaled shakily. "You could've warned us before waking up an ancient death god!"
Ragnar ignored him. His gaze remained on the dust swirling in the wind. Inside that moment of chaos, he'd felt something familiar — a pull deeper north, like a heartbeat calling him forward.
Whatever waited beyond the frozen mountains… it knew his name.