In the northern continent, where nothing but cold storms, snow, and ice could be found, a towering ice fortress, nearly three thousand meters tall, shone brightly. Its towers and the surrounding city alone covered an area of eight hundred kilometers.

At the top of the fortress, in an opulent hall, dozens of individuals knelt, all facing a massive, yet empty, ice throne. Suddenly, snow began to swirl in the air, taking shape into a two-meter-tall woman. As she appeared, her white hair and gem-like blue eyes shimmered. Her youthful, pale skin was adorned with a regal, elegant blue dress. She struck the floor with her ice staff.

"The imperial army, led by the bastard Lancelot, is rampaging at our borders! And you useless pests—what are you doing?!"

The sharpness of her voice silenced the court's generals. The sorceress general, the dwarf general, and the valkyrie general—some of the most formidable figures—could only tremble.

"If you have no answers, I'll be more than happy to feed you to Dietrich's bears!"

Her gaze locked onto only one individual: a three-meter-tall man with dragon wings on his back. He possessed an otherworldly beauty, sharing a resemblance with the Ice Queen. He stepped forward, standing firm before her, eyes unwavering.

"Young dragon, you'd better have a good reason for not kneeling before me!"

The young dragon chuckled.

"Young Queen, when His Majesty Dietrich himself is present in the court, your orders hold no weight."

At his words, the Ice Queen turned swiftly, sensing a faint presence behind her. The moment it was discovered, that presence released its power, revealing itself—already kneeling.

"I welcome His Majesty."

Dietrich, a man with a similar appearance but radiating an overwhelming heroic aura, his golden eyes commanding absolute authority, stepped forward. Wearing his battle armor, he sat upon the Ice Queen's throne and placed his hand gently on her head, stroking her hair.

"We greet the King of Winter!"

At once, all the generals and courtiers—except for the kneeling Ice Queen—rose to their feet, only to bow deeply once more in reverence.

"Lucius, go visit your grandfather and tell him I request an audience."

The young dragon simply nodded and leaped from a massive window, transforming mid-air into a fifty-meter-long white dragon, soaring northward.

"Dwarf General."

A heavily armored dwarf, clad in black steel, stepped forward and knelt.

"Go to the Frozen Hills and drag the Dwarven King out of his mines. Tell him to assemble all his forces at the border."

"Your command will be carried out immediately."

"Lagertha."

A towering woman, two meters tall, with powerful muscles, clad in a full set of Scandinavian-style white armor, knelt with a three-pronged spear in hand.

"Increase patrols in all the cities."

"My sisters await your command!"

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"Sorceress."

The sorceress general stepped forward and knelt. She had long hair braided into bunny-like ears and appeared no older than a twelve-year-old girl. Yet, her youthful form could not hide the thousand years of wisdom within her.

"Are the runaway sorceresses still increasing, or have you regained control?"

The sorceress general trembled slightly. The desertion of sorceresses to become mercenaries was a disgrace to her.

"With increased funding and fewer divisions, the remaining sorceresses receive substantial salaries, and the number of deserters is decreasing."

"Then I want the sorceresses to sabotage Lancelot's forces—slow their advance until I can force Siegfried and the giants of Isbadaden to join the war."

"It shall be done."

"Dietrich…"

His gaze shifted to the Ice Queen, who had lowered her head.

"You are dismissed."

Minutes passed until only the two of them remained in the grand icy hall.

"If I recall, I told you not to attack the Empire's borders. I need time to finalize peace with Siegfried."

Tears welled up in the Ice Queen's eyes.

"You were gone for centuries…"

"Centuries to beings who live for thousands of years are but a blink in the river of time, my child."

"But those centuries… they were a lifetime for me."

"Come here."

He pulled her into an embrace, gazing into her jewel-like tearful eyes.

"Your mother entrusted you to me years ago. You should stay out of unnecessary trouble and not put your life at risk. The humans of the Empire extend their lifespans to seek greater power—they strive for immortality. Arthur and Lancelot could even surpass Merlin."

"Merlin? The Storm's Wrath?"

"Storm's Wrath? Ha! That old man merely wields lightning as if it were an extension of his body. You should visit your mother's tomb and return to your estate. Once this war is over and a peace treaty is signed, I will return the throne to you."

Hearing this, the Ice Queen felt a deep sting. To her father, she was unworthy. She knew Dietrich wanted to protect her, but she also sensed his doubts.

"Father, I can fight! I am close to reaching the Heroic level!"

"My daughter, you are unaware of many things. You are a crucial target in this war, and Lancelot will undoubtedly seek to eliminate you. Do you know why Arthur, despite his many hidden conflicts with Lancelot, has never gotten rid of him?"

"Because of the powerful faction supporting him?"

"No, my dear. It is because his Warlord-level power completely suppresses even Heroic-level beings. The Western Duchy, the King of the Red Orcs—who came from an unknown continent seeking conquest—were all crushed by Lancelot. His legendary sword swings, capable of destroying dozens of orc ships in a single sweep, are not myths—they are reality."

*"But you—"

"Hahaha! Those little warriors mean nothing to me, unless they all attack me at once!"

The two laughed together—a scene no one under their command could have ever imagined.

"However, my daughter, the real crisis is not the Empire's army…"

The Ice Queen lowered her gaze.

"The Demon Kings are being subdued. Soon, they will either perish or bow before us."

"Unfortunately, it's not that simple. That's why I dismissed everyone earlier. Many of them are already lurking beneath our lands. The auras in those depths threaten even someone like me."

Then his golden eyes shone.

"But don't worry. If Siegfried allies with us, nothing will stand in our way!"

...

Far to the north, a massive warrior, clad in Viking-style heavy armor, stood atop the skull of a hundred-meter-tall giant. He pulled his axe from its shattered head and wiped his long white beard.

"Damn giant."

He felt the earth tremble and turned. Two more giants—each eighty meters tall—knelt before him.

"Your victory marks the dawn of a new era, led by a stronger chieftain."

"What is the name of the new chieftain of the Icebone Giants?"

The warrior wiped his axe with a cloth and revealed nearly forty necklaces—each bearing the symbols of different giant clans.

"Siegfried, uniter of all giant tribes and the landless King of the North."

The two armored giants, radiating near-Warlord auras, grinned.

"We bow with utmost respect to the King of Giants!"

Siegfried smirked and tore the rare mineral-like symbol of leadership from the dead giant's neck, placing it around his own.

"Is there another nearby giant tribe?"

The giants grinned and pointed in different directions.

"Sixteen hundred giant steps northeast."

"Two thousand giant steps north."

"Take your tribe fifty thousand steps south and join the gathering at our current encampment."

The giants nodded, knowing they now followed a man whose name—despite his long absence from southern civilization—had never been forgotten. Siegfried, the one whom legends claimed no man before or after could ever surpass in strength, courage, and honor.