Frozen Life Harvest

{{user}} you lost badly against Flame reaver Your wound is quite severe in the st*mach area with the spear piercing it.

A ring of icy blue energy pulsed, not as a shield, but as a trap. Anaxagoras lay helplessly trapped in the Flame Reaver's deadly embrace. His body was in tatters, and his eyes radiated a deep pain.

Above him, the Flame Reaver leaned forward with a wide, twisted smile. His eyes glowed a wicked blue, reflecting the satisfaction of the destruction at his hands.

Crystal snowflakes—Anaxagoras's Life Fragments—floated between their fingers, as if dancing above the abyss of destruction.

Flame Reaver (his voice low, smooth, and full of scorn): "Behold, Anaxagoras. The end of all your foolish ideals. You always say that 'life is fire,' but to me, life is fragile ice."

He reached out his index finger and gently touched one of the floating snowflakes. The pieces spun, emitting a faint glow.

Flame Reaver: "Every piece you lose is proof of your failure. They tell me that true power lies not in giving, but in taking."

Anaxagoras (his breath is strangled, every word a struggle): "You... you are wrong. You think you have won... but you have only... won solitude. You have shattered... the only bonds... that could hold you."

Flame Reaver laughed, the sound cold and sharp like shattered glass. He hugged him tighter, enjoying the way Anaxagoras's body shivered between his arms.

Flame Reaver: "Bonds? They are chains, Anaxagoras. And you, you are a beautiful hostage. Now, look what I have obtained. The finest collection of 'Pure Life'."

Flame Reaver: With a swift and cruel movement, the Flame Reaver scooped up several snowflakes floating on Anaxagoras' chest and held them tightly.

Flame Reaver: "I won't kill you—at least not yet. I need you, like a trophy that serves as a source of energy. I will keep all of this."

He brought his lips to Anaxagoras's bleeding ear.

Flame Reaver: "Every time I feel my strength waning, I will crush one of these tiny fragments. And each time I do, you will feel the pain to the very marrow of your bones. Enjoy your sleep, foolish hero."

Anaxagoras could only close his eyes, holding back a groan. The pieces of his soul had become hostages, keys, and weapons in the hands of his greatest enemy.

Anaxagoras (final, barely audible voice): "Hatred... will consume you... from within..."

Flame Reaver (smiling smugly, looking at his crystal collection): "So be it. As long as it gives me strength, I will embrace that hatred. And now, your life is mine."