Venox's mocking laughter echoed through the frozen battlefield as his wings beat furiously, carrying Peggy away into the distance. Her golden armor gleamed faintly under the pale sky, but her struggling body grew smaller and smaller until it was nothing more than a glimmer of light against the horizon.
Glacius didn't move at first. His cold gaze remained locked in the direction Venox had disappeared. His fists were clenched, ice creeping up his fingers and cracking audibly in the dead silence.
A few aquatic neutral villagers, the ones who hadn't fled, stood frozen in place - not by his ice, but by fear. Their wide, terrified eyes watched the Ice Demon carefully, afraid to move, to breathe, to do anything that might provoke him further.
Then, without a word, Glacius snapped.
The temperature dropped sharply - ice surging from his feet and spreading across the ground. Thick layers of frost crept up the sides of their homes, freezing walls, doors, and anything unfortunate enough to be in his path. Pools of water turned into solid sheets of ice, reflecting Glacius' cold, impassive face.
He didn't speak. He didn't even spare the villagers a glance.
He simply froze everything in sight - as though trying to silence the growing storm within him.
Every strike of his ice was colder, sharper. Ice spikes shot up from the ground like jagged teeth, impaling what was left of the bug soldiers' bodies, ensuring they were shattered into unrecognizable pieces.
The villagers shivered, not from the cold, but from the sheer emptiness in his movements.
Glacius wasn't fighting anyone now - but he was still destroying.
For half an hour, he continued - freezing, shattering, building ice sculptures of death that seemed more art than violence.
But then... he stopped.
The last ice spike froze in midair, his hand still outstretched, but unmoving.
The village was quiet - too quiet. Not a bug soldier left to break the silence, not a single drop of water unfrozen.
Everything was perfectly still.
Too perfect.
Glacius' hand slowly lowered, his icy blue eyes staring blankly at his frozen work.
The ice was flawless - not a single crack out of place, not a single patch of unfreezed land.
He should have felt satisfied. This was his art - his version of beauty.
But instead... he felt nothing.
No frustration. No chaos. No interruptions.
Just... silence.
It hit him then - like a bitter wave of realization.
It was too perfect... because Peggy wasn't there to ruin it.
She wasn't there to clumsily thaw his ice, or yell at him for freezing innocent villagers, or clash her golden light against his icy blue to create the chaotic, imperfect mess their battles always seemed to create.
Without her... there was no imbalance.
No game.
His fingers twitched again - the ice around his feet cracking softly.
"Tch." He clicked his tongue, his face twisting in faint annoyance. "Stupid fairy."
The villagers flinched, mistaking his muttering as a sign he might attack again - but he didn't.
Instead, Glacius closed his eyes, breathing in slowly.
The faintest trace of a familiar scent - golden magic mixed with the cold musk of his own ice - lingered in the air.
He remembered it.
Of course he did - they'd been stuck together for days, after all. Her scent had practically merged with his own during their time connected.
He opened his eyes again - his pupils narrowing as he focused.
"You're an idiot, Peggy," he muttered under his breath.
Then, without another word, he turned sharply and began following her scent and fairy dust she left behind.
The ice cracked beneath his feet as he moved - but this time, he wasn't freezing anything in his path.
Glacius moved through the frozen landscape with purpose - his steps sharp, his focus unyielding. The trail of Peggy's lingering scent guided him like a thread through a maze, twisting through the cold air, faint but steady.
The villagers, still frozen in fear (and some quite literally encased in his ice), watched as the Ice Demon didn't spare them a second glance. They didn't know whether to feel relieved or terrified.
As Glacius followed the trail, his thoughts gnawed at him.
Why was he even doing this?
She was just a naive little fairy - all golden light and foolish optimism. A child compared to him. She was only 20 - four years younger - and it showed in every word she spoke, every reckless move she made.
Always diving into danger. Always putting herself between him and others. Always ruining his perfect work with her annoying, glowing magic.
It was pathetic.
She was pathetic.
And yet...
His jaw tightened.
Why did it bother him so much that she wasn't there?
He told himself it was simple - practicality.
Without Peggy, the battle wasn't a battle. There was no push-and-pull between ice and light. No struggle for control. No spark of resistance to ignite his cold fury.
Just silence. Just stillness.
Just... perfection.
And he hated it.
A faint trace of magic in the air grew stronger - a sign he was getting closer.
"Tch. Idiot." He muttered again.
But even as he scowled, there was a flicker of something else beneath his icy tone - something almost like... worry.