paranoianovel Chapter 142 Khorne the Great Demon Skabrand
Chapter 142 Khorne the Great Demon Skabrand
Chapter 141 Khorne the Great Demon Skabrand
The moment the Winter Lord's corpse was completely pulverized beneath the city walls, the white blizzard that had shrouded Frostwolf City for days abruptly ceased.
The leaden-gray sky was like a piece of rotten cloth torn open by a sharp blade, with a huge crack in it.
The long-awaited sunlight pierced through the clouds and shone directly on the earth, which was frozen solid by ice and snow.
On the city wall, Ohm blinked his silver eyes and reached out his little hand to catch the light: "Big brother, the sun is out."
Catherine removed her veil, her pale purple eyes narrowing slightly as she gazed at the receding storm cloud wall on the northern horizon.
The wall of ice and snow formed by a fifth-tier demon was melting and peeling away at a visible speed, as if it were being rapidly evaporated by some invisible force.
"The snow season is over." Catherine's voice carried a hint of disbelief and disorientation.
Every person in the North knows that the beginning and end of the snow season are never subject to human will; they are determined by the natural law of the magical cycle that governs the entire North.
She turned to look at Lorraine.
Lorraine stood on the highest crenellation of the city wall, his cloak billowing in the lingering chill of the wind, his gaze calmly fixed on the receding snow in the distance.
He didn't speak, but simply nodded slightly.
Below the city wall, the exhausted militiamen, collapsed on the ground, were the first to feel the change.
The suffocating feeling that had been pressing on my chest for weeks has dissipated, and each breath is no longer accompanied by the sharp pain of swallowing ice shards.
Immediately afterwards, someone let out the first hoarse gasp of surprise.
"The snow—the snow has stopped!"
"The sun! It really is the sun!"
"The Lord of Winter—is dead!"
The sounds exploded one after another, spreading from the base of the city walls to the streets, from the streets to the square, and from the square to the entire Frostwolf City.
People stumbled out of the house, looking up at the miracle that split the dark clouds. Many knelt in the muddy snow, trembling, covering their faces and weeping uncontrollably.
The invincible Winter Lord was killed by the Lord!
However, in the far north, thousands of miles away from Frostwolf City.
There was no sunshine, no cheers, and no warmth belonging to humankind.
That is the territory of the Frozen Realm.
A layer of ice thousands of feet thick covered everything, even the air was frozen solid, and no life could survive there.
This area is the northernmost point of the entire continent, a blank area marked as "dead zone" on human maps, and even monsters rarely venture into it.
But at this moment, deep within the ice cap, the twisting power of the abyss is forcibly squeezing into reality.
The first thing that appeared was the nauseating smell of rust and blood, which even permeated through the hundreds of feet of ice.
Immediately afterwards, an extremely deep hum emanated from the depths of the earth, causing the entire ice field to vibrate at a high frequency.
"Click!"
Without any warning, the thousand-foot-high ice sheet was violently torn apart from its center!
It didn't seem like a natural collapse, but rather like something violently and forcefully torn apart to both sides.
Emerging from the crack was a twisted, dark red light, like boiling, foul blood.
The moment the light touched the physical substance, it instantly evaporated the surrounding ice into a blood-red mist.
The cracks are expanding rapidly.
Ten zhang, one hundred zhang, three hundred zhang!
At the bottom of that abyss rift leading directly to subspace, a projection of will struck the physical laws of this space.
It has no language, no complex thoughts, only three concepts that accompany endless madness: Blood Sacrifice to the Blood God!
Skull offering and skull seat!
kill!kill!kill!
Deep within the rift, a colossal, suffocating phantom is taking shape amidst the blood-red light.
It was the outline of a terrifying behemoth, tens of feet tall.
Its head resembled a ferocious hunting dog with parts of its flesh stripped off, and its jagged horns were covered with brass chains made of countless skulls.
But what is most striking is its pair of broken wings on its back, which have been forcibly torn apart and are now just dilapidated skeletons.
That was the eternal shame it bore when it offended its master and was personally choked by the throat and thrown from the tower by the god who sat on the bronze throne.
Its hands are loosely gripping two battle axes powerful enough to split mountains—"Slaughter" and "Slaughter".
Its eyes had no pupils, only two flames of blind, inextinguishable rage burning within them.
Khorne the Exile - Skabrand the Exile.
Its maddening, invisible aura instantly swept across the entire ice sheet, and the air seemed to resound with the roar of billions of metal weapons colliding.
Any creature that gets close to it, whether friend or foe, even a lifeless golem, will fall into a mindless killing frenzy under its aura.
It was not summoned, but rather the conditions of reality reached the threshold for a blood sacrifice.
The Winter Lord—the fifth-tier monster who once made a pact with the abyss—was originally promised a simple yet cruel deal:
Slaughter all humans on the snowfield and collect enough blood and skulls to receive a blessing.
You have been given an opportunity to advance to the sixth rank.
But the evil gods of the warp never care who the winner is, and the Blood God sitting atop the skull pyramid cares even less.
Khorne did not care whose blood flowed, nor whose skull was severed.
He only cared about rivers of blood and skulls piled up like a mound of skulls.
The people killed by the Winter Lord count, and the monsters killed by Lorraine also count;
The death of humans counts, and the complete annihilation of the monster army under the Winter Lord counts as well.
Those vanguards who were defeated at the White Wolf Outpost, the grunts crushed by the Witch's Tower, the fourth-tier generals killed by the Great Knights, and the Winter Lord himself who thought he controlled everything.
They were all considered part of this grand sacrifice.
Lorraine nearly wiped out all the monsters in the entire Northern Territory.
The threshold for the sacrificial ritual was completely filled.
Although the total amount of killings was not enough to bring Skabrand's true form into the real world, it was enough to tear open this rift and allow the raging phantom of this great demon to be projected here.
More importantly, this rift is large enough to allow the bloodthirsty hounds of the warp to flood into this world.
Beneath the phantom of Skabrand, countless crimson figures were crawling out from the edge of the fissure, which resembled boiling blood.
They are not ordinary monsters, but low-level Khorne demons—bloodletters.
Their bodies are crimson red, their muscles are bulging, and they have long, narrow heads with long horns, like those of a hunting dog.
Each vampire gripped a longsword called Hellblade, a metal sword burning with dark red runes and dripping with molten lava.
The moment the first vampire stepped onto the ice, influenced by Skabrand's aura, it furiously swung its Hellblade, hacking at the solid ice beneath its feet as if even the lifeless ice was its enemy.
Then came the tenth, the hundredth, the ten thousandth —
They poured out from the cracks like a crimson tide of metal.
These demons have no tactics, are fearless of death, and their souls are branded with only one absolute command:
To seize the skull for the Brass Throne, and to offer blood for the God of Blood.
Above the abyss, Skabrand's phantom slowly raised its brutal head, two balls of furious flame staring intently at the south.
There, hundreds of thousands of warm, beating hearts reside.
That was the real hunting ground.
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