Dungeon of Niflheim

The sound of weapons and armour violently clashing filled the air.

Don! Don! Don!

Two men, one with the appearance of a handsome elf and the other a bipedal tiger monster from the Jabrak Kingdom were engaged in battle, their weapons and claws showing not the slightest sign of mercy.

Sharpened blade edges would narrowly miss vital areas as the two dodged one another's blows.

The ground around them was covered in deep fractures and crevasses as a result of their physical exertions and their originally pristine attire, (one more than the other) was drenched in blood.

Wounds galore covered nearly every inch of Bacchus yet despite his injuries and his immense pain his face still showed a bright smile and the grip around his massive axe was as solid as ever.

With his vision locked onto Frost, Bacchus roared from the depths of his lungs, spewing out blood as he once again charged with his axe raised above his head.

Schwing! Squelch!

Frost who sported far less severe wounds easily deflected the rabid tigerkin's violent blow, knocking his weapon aside before cutting deep into his ribs.

"Urgh!" Bacchus groaned from the pain, his body spasming as he turned around to face his foe once more.

"Again!" He bellowed, raising his axe once more and summoning what remained of his internal energy. "[Third path of the Jabrak Kingdom]"

Bacchus being a vaunted officer of the Jabrak kingdom and valued member of the three eyed tiger tribe was well versed in the Kingdom's self-created skills. A well-structured set of techniques that managed to catch Frost by surprise more than once or twice.

Unfortunately for him Frost was a fast learner, and after exchanging hundreds of moves he'd long been able to predict his every effort.

"[Ice fire shield]" Frost summoned a durable shield of silver flames that effortlessly blocked Bacchus' technique before he followed up with a swift slash of his glaive, opening up a deep gash across Bacchus' chest.

"It's time to end this." He muttered under his breath before revealing a sharp glint in his eyes.

A moment later, before Bacchus could reorientate himself Frost went on the attack, utilising everything he managed to learn during their duel.

His speed, his flow, his use of aura and even the forming of his skills all jumped up a notch. Bacchus with his third eye opened as far as it could go witnessed the change in slow motion. A stream that was once violent and inefficient now flowed with smooth purpose, granting far more power….a state he knew all too well.

"Mid stage…." He barely had time to utter two words before Frost's glaive blew through his guard and pierced his flesh.

"[Dragon tail thrust]" Frost who had made a breakthrough in both his use of aura and glaive mastery used a brand new technique, one that had escaped his grasp until this very moment.

A dragon's tail was known far and wide as one of the most dangerous weapons in existence. A thick fleshly limb covered in impenetrable scales ending in a sharp narrow tip that could pierce the depths of even the largest and densest mountains.

The effect was instantaneous, Bacchus saw the shape form around Frost's glaive and then in the next moment he felt as though the weight of an entire mountain was focused on a single point. His guard was blown apart, his great axe that hadn't left his side ever since the war began was sent flying, breaking half his fingers as it did.

His left arm which was already drenched in his own blood and pilfered with holes snapped from the force, bending backwards, connected by nothing more than a narrow strip of flesh and muscle.

The great dragon tail didn't stop for a single second, brutally pushing aside what remained of his arm to stab into his exposed chest. The sharp tip easily pierced through his pectoral muscles, wreaked havoc on his ribs and punctured through the centre of his heart before blasting through his back.

Such a violent act resulted in a veritable geyser of blood erupting from Bacchus' back. The organ that vigorously pumped blood throughout his body thumped desperately as it hovered in the air, pierced by Frost's glaive like a piece of kebab meat before gradually becoming inert.

"BACCHUS!!" Tulu who was engaged in a duel with Captain Johnson roared in fury as he caught sight of his brave cousin falling to his knees with his heart pierced through by the enemy's weapon. Tears of blood ran from his eyes and an emotional pain so strong that it made his heart literally stop assailed him. Bacchus was his hero, his best friend, the older brother he relied on and worshipped. In his eyes his cousin was invincible, an infallible existence that would one day lead their three eyed tigerkin tribe to greatness, surpassing both the winter tigerkin and snow leopardkin. All he needed was time, time to grow into his own.

Schwing!

"Arghh!!"

"Looking away from your enemy during a fight is just asking to be killed." In that brief moment of distraction Captain Johnson ran Tulu through with his sword piercing his left lung before twisting and slashing towards his heart, a mortal blow.

Tulu could feel his life quickly slipping away, he gazed at the kneeling figure of his cousin in the distance, focusing on his face as though aiming to burn his last expression into his mind as he died.

Strangely there was a natural smile on his lips, joy and satisfaction were his final moments.

Then as though in sync both Tulu and Bacchus uttered their last words.

""A good death."" The two then drifted into the endless darkness, never to wake or see the light of day again.

The fall of Bacchus and Tulu was quickly followed by cacophonous roars amongst the War Ursa Battalion. Their felt energised and inspired by the fall of their enemy and might of their new Major.

Frost knowing the impact he had on these men and women and aware of his current role capitalised on his victory. "7th western defensive line! URAHHH!!!" He shouted at the top of his lungs a command word unique to the War Ursa Battalion.

"URAAHHH!!" The soldiers responded vigorously and erupted with cataclysmic strength so profound that their current enemies were torn to shreds or pummelled into paste.

The 'URAAHHH' command was basically a primal roar of victory that once used meant everyone in the vicinity needed unleash their ultimate strength and rend apart any who stood before them. It was the greatest show of force and perhaps even respect.

Frost who's wounds were already starting to close thanks to the sudden injection of DP glanced down at the corpse of Bacchus and silently nodded his head in respect.

He was a worthy foe who helped him cross into the mid stages of B-rank, thus he was thankful.

"I'll put your life energy to good use…..Bacchus." He internally noted his opponent's name before looking over at Captain Johnson who was in quite bad shape.

"Johnson fall back and seek immediate treatment, have Captain Tara continue your duties."

"Yes sir, what about you?" Captain Johnson knew well the extent of his injuries and thus didn't refuse the order. After seeing the true capabilities of Frost he had a newfound respect for the young Major, he was now truly a comrade in arms.

"I'll stay on the frontlines for a period to act as intimidation before falling back, the enemy will likely call off their advance pretty soon." Bacchus wasn't the only enemy officer to suffer at the hands of the enemy after all.

"Understood Major…." Johnson smiled and moved to limp his way back to the rear where a platoon of healers were stationed but before that he looked seriously at Frost and performed a strict salute.

"It has been an honour to fight by your side Major Frost."

"The honour has been mine Captain Johnson now quickly see to your wounds before they become too serious."

"Yes sir." The captain thus made his way back to the rear of the army with the help of a nearby sergeant while Frost as stated remained at the frontlines with his glaive in hand, still hungry for blood and gore.

"Such glorious DP, it'd be such a waste to let it all escape into the ether." With a ravenous smile Frost quietly muttered before knocking the butt of his glaive against the ground and imbuing his voice with aura. "Captain Emma, Captain Mokan lead your platoons after me, it's time to wreak some havoc on the enemy."

"Sir yes Sir!"

"Hehehe took the words right out of my mouth Major."
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"Tsk lucky." Emma and Mokan responded with excitement as they sauntered forward with their weapons drawn. Captain Lucinda and Darius however clicked their tongues, annoyed that they weren't chosen and thus had to stay behind to block the enemy from breaching the gate, the standard routine.

Meanwhile at the enemy's headquarters.

"General Vash we're losing too many perhaps it's time to call back our upper officers." Vash's subordinate from the same tribe spoke through a frown. The War Ursa Battalion were just too strong at the upper officer level, yesterday must have been a complete fluke.

"That damn bitch Katrina!" Vash roared and slammed his fist down against the ice table before him, leaving a significant crack. He knew the old woman's plan; he'd have to be blind to not notice the difference amongst the enemy officers by now. Unfortunately simply noticing didn't mean jack, this was an open strategy, the battle amongst the upper officers still needed to happen regardless of the changes.

Suddenly just as Vash was contemplating whether or not to order his officers to fall back an urgent report came to him.

"Lord Commander, Major Bacchus of the Jabrak Kingdom has been slain."