A thunderous crash erupts as the ice shatters under Rosetta's blow. In its wake, a cold flash sweeps outward and a massive crevasse splits the ground, carving a deadly divide between the two sides.
!
Dozens of Corrupted, unable to retreat in time, plunge through the cracked ice into the black water below. Their thrashing limbs churn the freezing depths, hurling geysers of spray into the howling blizzard and escalating the battlefield's chaos.
Everyone, fall back to the base immediately! Scout units only will remain here to stand guard. Move, now!
Y-yes! Get the wounded to safety while we can!
Moving!
Commandant, time for us to pull back, too.
There might be more Corrupted along the way. Lee and I can clear the path...
This fissure will slow the enemy down, and Babylonia's Constructs will hold the line here. You can trust them to handle it.
Well done. Just what I'd expect from the subjects of my Arctic Route Union.
The words are still hanging in the air when a familiar voice sounds from behind you.
It's been a while, [player name].
Across the river of ice, four figures stand silhouetted against the snow of the distant peak. Leading them is the individual who once confronted you in Babylonia, masquerading as "Mina".
Zack the Frostheart Emperor...
So he's the one who infiltrated Babylonia...
...What are they doing here?
The Arctic Route Union soldiers freeze in their tracks, hands tightening nervously on their weapons. Their brief moment of respite shatters with the sudden appearance of unknown enemies.
Be at ease. There is no need for fear.
People of the Arctic, I am Zack, the sixth Frostheart Emperor, heir to the royal bloodline of Sophiasburgh. If you still hold reverence for the crown and recognize Sophiasburgh as your capital, then kneel and pledge your loyalty to me once more.
Wait, did he just say...
Hey, did he say Frostheart Emperor?
"The Frostheart Emperor". The moment the words are spoken, a ripple of unrest passes through the ARU ranks. Reactions vary—hesitation, a sudden tight grip on a weapon, a frozen stance—but all betray the heavy, unspoken significance the title holds for them.
So let me translate this. You're asking us to surrender?
Precisely so, Construct of Babylonia. The Corrupted you are currently fighting are all former subjects of the old Sophiasburgh, and they attack you now on my command.
Should you lay down your arms, this conflict will end immediately, and the Arctic will usher in a new era of peace.
There is no price. I am an emperor, not a demon.
The Punishing Virus is merely my tool. Do not misunderstand.
I believe this proposal offers you nothing but advantages. You will not die here today, and you will live to witness the Union dominate the world, with Sophiasburgh standing as its capital.
So what you're really saying is... you want us to help you conquer the world?
Not conquest—amalgamation. This world needs a true nation. A unified order.
Rosetta, these battles have shown me your exceptional talent and potential. Pledge your loyalty to me, along with your subordinates, and those still hesitating will understand which path is truly right for them.
...
Commandant, what are your orders?
Understood. I'll follow your lead, Commandant.
Our thoughts should be aligned on this.
Rosetta nods, her expression hardening into a mask of battle-ready ruthlessness. In one swift motion, she raises her light sword. Its glowing tip cuts through the blizzard as she levels it at Zack.
I cannot speak for others, but I refuse your invitation. I do not recognize any "Frostheart Emperor". And furthermore...
...conquering the world sounds really stupid.
The words instantly provoke anger from the three behind Zack, their hands snapping toward their weapons. Zack, however, merely responds with a thin, unperturbed smile.
Not an unexpected answer.
He raises his hand slowly, and the blizzard dies. In the sudden silence, a chorus of mechanical whirring stirs. It comes first from the shadows of the ice mountains, then from behind every snow-covered rock. The Corrupted emerge, one after another, their metal hulls caked in snow, their crimson eyes cutting through the thin, still air.
Unifying our wills has always proven challenging. That is precisely why... we have forged a new power: Amalgamation. Now, all forces, attack!
The silence shatters with shrill howls as the Corrupted pour from their hiding places. Their silhouettes—a countless, converging mass—engulf the landscape. The true battle has begun.
