Chapter 165: Snowstorm

Chapter 165: Snowstorm

"Resistance is futile! Die!"

Dolo wielded his bloodfire battle axe and let out a furious roar.

The personal guards of the Duke’s Mansion crumbled under the assault of the hobgoblin army.

Each time Dolo swung his battle axe, a blood-red arc slashed through the air, cutting down several people in succession, with blood spraying everywhere.

Archers in the distance attempted to kill this fearsome creature, but the muskets of the hobgoblin skirmishers emitted chaotic gunfire, accompanied by wisps of blue smoke.

"Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!"

Like the grim reaper calling out names, each gunshot brought down an archer—thanks to the improved firearms, draconic blessings, and the crucible of war, these hobgoblin skirmishers had become devastating weapons on small-scale battlefields, capable of swiftly annihilating a human force of a hundred soldiers.

Wiping the blood off his face and exhaling white mist, Dolo sneered:

"Let’s drag that ridiculous duke out."

"Show him what hell looks like."

After months of peace, he had been eager for battle. Without waiting for the red dragon to assign personnel, he had volunteered for this lightning siege.

Dolo's hobgoblin army had been unstoppable, conquering city after city, bolstering his confidence.

This time seemed no different. Equipped with the latest model "Dragonfire Muskets," the hobgoblin skirmishers crushed their enemies effortlessly, bringing the fight to a swift conclusion.

However, as they broke through the city defenses, a long, peculiar horn sound echoed from within the city. The sound sent chills through Dolo, stirring a hint of unease.

"But… what is that sound?"

"Forget it, catch the duke first."

Dolo resolved.

Suddenly, a gale rose in the air.

A few snowflakes landed on Dolo’s face, making him shiver involuntarily.

This draconic hobgoblin, who disliked the cold, scratched his head and trembled, his ugly face full of confusion.

"Did I get it wrong? Winter hasn’t started yet."

"Why is it snowing?"

Even in Anzeta Wasteland, known as the "Land Without Spring," it was rare to see snow this early, especially within a relatively warm city.

"Whoosh—"

Yet the windstorm intensified, spreading cold air everywhere, mixed with hailstones as large as beans, forming a small snowstorm in mid-air.

Dolo finally became vigilant. He trembled as he gripped his battle axe tightly, realizing that this sudden snowstorm was no natural phenomenon!

He immediately retreated, leaving the area, while loudly warning:

"Stay alert! This isn’t ordinary snow!"

"It’s magic!"

The hobgoblins quickly retreated, but the snowstorm seemed alive, following their direction and howling incessantly.

"Damn it, it’s magic after all."

"Damn it, how can this little backwater place have magic of this caliber?"

"Those serpentfolk intelligence officers deserve to be shot!"

Dolo glanced back at the encroaching snowstorm, spitting angrily.

Nort Duchy’s forces were ranked among the weakest in Ember Kingdom's internal assessments, with hardly any decent troops. It was just a dog relying on Bosk. Yet unexpectedly, such high-level magic had emerged!

"Die!"

At the center of the snowstorm appeared a giant with pale blue skin and a menacing expression.

Hovering in the air, carrying a massive horn on his back, and adorned with magical tattoos that glowed icy blue, he held an ice spike, reigning as the snowstorm’s master—Grand Duke Oliver.

At that moment, he laughed maniacally, his pupils exuding endless coldness, radiating dazzling icy blue light.

"Tremble, you lackeys of the wyrm!"

"Behold the true power!"

"I am the snowstorm!"

As his laughter resounded, the snowstorm around him grew more intense, and its range continued to expand.

The hobgoblins who couldn’t escape in time were frozen stiff within moments of entering the extreme cold zone. Frost spread over their bodies, transforming them into motionless ice sculptures, still in their lifelike poses.

"Look, is that the Duke?"

"Oh my god, what is this?"

"It’s so cold…"

"I’m losing consciousness..."

The raging snowstorm claimed many city residents who failed to flee in time from this terrifying disaster.

Grand Duke Oliver showed no regard for the lives of the city’s residents, unleashing the power of the Eternal Frost Horn freely. Within a hundred meters of him, the world turned white, and snow-covered streets were adorned with countless ice sculptures of various forms.

"What the hell is this thing?"

"That’s definitely not low-tier magic!"

Dolo cursed as he fled in panic. Even he, entering this icy domain, wouldn’t last long.

"Boom!"

Seeing the snowstorm approaching, the draconic hobgoblin unhesitatingly abandoned his battle axe and leapt over twenty meters in a single bound, barely escaping the storm’s range. Fortunately, the dragonblood granted him extraordinary agility, allowing him to flee more quickly.

"Lackeys of the wyrm, stop struggling!"

"You cannot defy the snowstorm!"

Grand Duke Oliver, controlling the snowstorm, relentlessly pursued Dolo to the city outskirts, intent on utterly annihilating the "Jealous Berserker" and depriving the red dragon of a trusted lieutenant.

"This can’t go on!"

Having fled to the outskirts, Dolo glanced back at the nearing snowstorm, his face grim. Clenching his teeth, he crushed a crimson crystal in his hand.

Dolo urgently called for help from the shattered crystal.

"Master, save me!"

This was the "Flame Dragon Crystal," a communication device only possessed by the leaders of Ember Kingdom’s clans, allowing direct contact with the red dragon in critical moments.

Although the draconic hobgoblin was fearless in battle, he had no intention of dying senselessly to this magic. Desperation forced him to swallow his pride and seek the red dragon’s aid.

"Whoosh—"

The snowstorm roared on.

Dolo, still refusing to give up, mustered his last strength and charged toward Grand Duke Oliver at the center of the storm.

"I’ll tear you apart!"

But the white domain gradually engulfed him. The draconic hobgoblin’s massive body trembled, his movements slowing. Ice began to coat his dragon-scaled face, layering even his eyelids with frost and snow.

Yet, thanks to the fiery vitality of his red dragon bloodline, his life force remained robust. Though his teeth chattered and his eyelids moved sluggishly, he held on.

"Damn it..."

"If I die like this, that idiot Langpu will mock me endlessly."

"I can’t... die here..."

In this moment of life and death, Dolo thought grimly.

After just a few minutes in the extreme cold, his body had become completely numb, and he could no longer feel anything. Worse, his thoughts slowed, as if freezing solid.

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