The tremor came again—stronger this time.
A jagged cracked ran through the crystal floor of the throne hall, not from below, but **from reality itself**. The air screamed as if frozen glass were being torn apart. The Ice King narrowed his eyes. This was no army, no wandering beast, no foolish hero.
This was **wrong**.
The Pale Arbiter stepped forward, frost flaring along its blade.
"A force not born of winter," it intoned, voice echoing like a distant avalanche.
The Ice King lifted one hand.
The knights froze—literally and figuratively—every motion halted by his will. He stepped down from the throne alone. With each footfall, ice spread outward, sealing cracks, calming the storm. His presence stabilized the palace, but the tear in the air continued to widen.
From it poured **heat**.
Not fire—**absence of cold**, a void where frost could not exist.
Beyond the rift stood a land scorched black, its sky bleeding red. At its center hovered a figure cloaked in distorted light, armor molten and cracked as if it had been reforged countless times.
"The Sovereign of Ice," the figure spoke, voice vibrating with power.
"You were never meant to exist."
The Ice King's expression remained unreadable.
"Neither were you," he replied calmly.
The figure stepped forward, and the ice beneath its feet hissed, turning to steam. This alone would have terrified any other ruler. But the Ice King merely observed.
"I am **Kaelreth, the Flame Paragon**," the intruder announced.
"Where you were born from despair and cold, I was born from ruin and flame. Our existence destabilizes the world. One of us must end."
For the first time since his coronation, the Ice King felt something stir within him.
Not fear.
Recognition.
A memory surfaced—of a prophecy buried beneath ancient snow:
> *When frost and flame awaken as kings,
> the world shall fracture to choose its end.*
He raised his hand slowly.
The Royal Knights moved without command, surrounding the rift in perfect formation. Ice sigils ignited across their armor, resonating with the Ice King's heartbeat.
"You are trespassing in my domain," the Ice King said.
"But more than that… you threaten the balance."
Kaelreth laughed, flames roaring behind him.
"Balance is a lie told by survivors."
The Ice King's eyes finally burned brighter than the ice around him.
"Then allow me," he said, frost surging into a colossal storm,
"to remind you why winter endures."
The rift exploded outward.
Ice and fire collided.
And far beyond the frozen kingdom, the world felt it—
the first clash of two elemental kings,
a battle that would decide whether the age would end in ash…
or eternal snow.