Dungeon of Niflheim

Tulu suddenly pressured by Frost's aura failed to react in time against Captain's Johnson's shield bash. With a ringing thud his chest was smacked hard and he reeled backwards from the blow.

Johnson quickly followed up with a decisive kick sending the tiger beastkin flying through the air, generating some much needed distance from the higher ranked duel that was just about to take place.

"[Tiger claw sundering]!" While Tulu was expertly separated by Captain Johnson, Bacchus unphased by the assault on his cousin leapt into the air and raised his mighty axe high above his head as he took aim at Frost's annoyingly handsome face.

With a jeering roar the over 3 metre tall monster caused the ground beneath his feet to cave in as he leapt high in the air. His internal energy flowed seamlessly into his already blood covered great axe forming a blood red phantom, a vicious bloodthirsty tiger that locked its gaze and massive claws on Frost.

Bacchus' movements were as fast as lighting in the eyes of the nearby enemy and ally soldiers but to Frost every single step was calculated.

With nary a hint of desperation Frost's lips turned upwards to form a wild smile. He stepped forward towards the quickly encroaching Bacchus with his glaive locked firmly in his right hand.

Tendrils of chilling ice chakra silently grew in layers upon his skin and clothes, swiftly forming an intricate and powerful set of armour that only added to his natural majesty. Silver flames danced along the edge of his glaive as he effortlessly twirled it in the air and took another forceful step forward and planted firm roots. Stay connected through empire

With his armour donned, his weapon at the ready and his stance in place Frost stared dead ahead at the encroaching enemy, waiting for him.

There was glint in his eyes as he saw Bacchus reel back for a thunderous blow, his wild smile grew and his grip on his weapon tightened. He summoned his royal aspected aura, allowing it flow unperturbed throughout his body, empowering him, improving his body's already terrifying physical strength and natural endurance. Frost intended to test the limits of the body his father granted him, so he abstained from using a weapon skill.

This entire process happened in under two seconds, one moment the four men were squaring off against one another, exchanging words and the next their weapons were drawn and the distance between them was miniscule.

BOOOOMM!!

With a crashing impact Bacchus' axe cleaved down upon Frost's glaive. The summoned tiger struck first, its vicious claws hitting with more than triple the strength of Frost's [claw of the ice wolf] technique. Shards of chakra armour vaporised with each claw and the ground beneath them cracked apart like a spiderweb from the residual force, but Frost didn't buckle. His legs remained solid and the weapon in his hand showed no signs of breaking….at least until the axe head made contact.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

The tiger claws were merely the appetiser, bringing with them the strength of a wild beast whereas the giant great axe that dripped ruby red blood heralded a mountain.

The moment metal clashed against metal Frost felt a force run through his muscles that was so powerful that the seams between his fingers split open and the arms holding up his glaive instantly became numb and lost their strength.

Boom!

With another earth shattering boom Bacchus' axe destroyed Frost's guard and continued its downward momentum. Frost was thus sent reeling back in a similar manner to Tulu. His physical strength being unable to endure such a violent blow even with the added boost of his aura, a skill mind you he was still rather inexperienced in using but capable nonetheless…..Bacchus was strong, much stronger than the Rindar he killed during the defence of Furano.

Neither Bacchus nor Frost continued their exchange immediately instead they seemed to come to terms with a similar realisation.

'He's strong'

'He's strong'

Bacchus who had initial misgivings towards Frost now saw him in a new light. He wasn't just a young pretty face here to replace the recently indisposed Major, no he was a worthy foe.

This realisation sparked his battle lust, his excitement started to build as did his already large physique, he could enjoy this fight.

Frost was similarly analysing his opponent gauging where he stood amongst those he had fought before.

'Stronger than the Rindar but weaker than Valend, Frostine and… Indra.' Peak of the early stages of B-rank perhaps initial middle stages, equal to himself but….weaker.

Though his guard was blown apart he wasn't injured nor was he placed in a vulnerable position; a stark contrast compared to his duel with Bella wherein every strike could have been his last if he let up for even a second.

Bacchus would make for the ideal training partner, the perfect level of danger and threat to help him gauge his current strength and perhaps breach the middle stages. He could feel it now, all he needed was some more worthwhile experience.

"Your name boy?" Bacchus who's muscles were spasming out of joy and excitement asked with fascination in his gaze. A primal and beastlike aura grew around him, making him seem dangerous, like a wild and starving animal. Even the way he held himself had become more beastlike.

As though sensing his joy Frost's own demeanour changed, his form was less rigid, donning the appearance of a sheathed blade waiting for the chance to be drawn.

"Frost and I'm no mere boy, little cat." His glaive swung outward and pointed directly at the lumbering Bacchus, the silver chakra flames once again erupted along the blade, threatening to singe his hair.

"….."

"….." There was a silence between the two as they locked eyes and a moment later.

Clash.

Glaive met axe, leg met leg, fist met fist and claws met armour. The exchange was brutal, sudden and vicious. Every blow sent out sonic booms and the combined clash of aura created a dead zone over 30 metres in diameter. Whether they were members of the Glacial Mountains Liberation Alliance or soldiers of the War Ursa Battalion they all kept their distance during such fights.

Anyone foolish enough to get caught between two B-ranks or higher was just asking for death thus there was a common consensus among them. The war between the soldiers would not end nor even take a break, it would simply move a little to the left and right, giving their officers space to let loose and not affect the common folk.

Johnson was free to engage Tulu and Bacchus was free to fight Frost all while the war continued without them.

Funny thing was scenes like this were happening all across the frontlines. B-rank level fighters all made their moves after the Icethorne Bulwark, resulting in over a dozen such duels taking place all at once, Frost wasn't even the most eye-catching.

One Major of the War Ursa Battalion who's strength was in the late stages of B-rank was facing off against 3 B-rank enemy opponents and was holding his own, perhaps even coming out ahead.

In another area twin Majors relied on their officers to activate a personal battle formation allowing them to compete with 5 B-ranks and multiple peak C-ranks and that was just the frontline confrontations there was still the rearguards, the archers and mages who also took to the fore.

War especially long sieges like this once tended to follow certain rhythms, routines. Currently it was the phase in which the B-ranks, the upper officers strutted their stuff….a phase in which the War Ursa Battalion was outnumbered but certainly not outmatched in fact it was the phase in which they shone the brightest.

"Gahhhh!!" Bloody screams erupted every minute or so as an upper officer of the alliance was run through or even killed by their War Ursa opponent. Very rarely did the alliance ever get the upper hand during this phase, a hard pill that General Vash and those at the peak of the enemy army had no choice but to swallow.

Their opponents were much stronger on the individual level, especially right now when their main forces were still on route to their location.

"General, things seem to be on track today." While Frost and the other Majors did battle on the frontlines a Captain assigned to headquarters spoke to General Katrina who still stood stalwart at the edge of the Northern wall.

"It would seem so, yesterday may have been just a fluke but we can't let the enemy have any hope… crush it before it begins to fester." General Katrina was dissatisfied with the army's performance yesterday too many of their officers were injured in battle and not nearly enough enemy officers were killed. Worst of all this was in front of the War Marshall, such a disgrace.

"As you say General." To aid in this endeavour Katrina even arranged a few special weapons to be slotted into the officers ranks, hoping to as she said, 'crush their hope before it begins to fester'.

Frost was one of these so called special weapons.

She hoped that he'd be able to give Bacchus a nasty surprise and if they were lucky perhaps even deprive him of his pitiful life.

Her gaze thus drifted over to where Frost and Bacchus were duelling.

'Kill him Frost, let them know the meaning of fear.'