Lazarus dives away from the doorway and clatters into one of the soldiers. They both tumbled down the wooden steps of the front porch and into the thick mud. The other soldiers began diving for the mud, face first, and taking cover from the unexpected counterattack. Some of the soldiers were still standing when Andrea finally let loose her devastating ice spell from the tip of the daggers.

The light being emitted from her ice daggers finally dimmed and grew dark. As soon as the light was gone, thousands of sharp needles of ice spewed forth from the tip of the weapons. The blast of ice was broad enough to hit the entire front wall of the house and blow it out.

Traveling at supersonic speeds, the needles of ice struck the wall and splintered what remained. As the wall exploded outwards, it was replaced instantaneously by a thick wall of ice, which kept the building intact and barricaded the family inside once more. The debris from the blast was rocketed away at an absurd speed towards the soldiers. First came the stinging ice, and then the massive splinters of wood that shredded everything in its path.

All the remaining soldiers who were still standing were dead upon impact. The ice and wood tore through their bodies and tore muscles from the bone. Shards of ceramic armor were sent flying in every direction. Limbs and heads were severed from the extreme force of the ice needles. The soldiers who had taken cover were able to dodge most of the damage, but nobody got out unscathed… Except for the soldier that Lazarus had bumped into.

A purple glow was steadily thrumming underneath Lazarus' cape as the Draegona Crystal spewed out power. None of the ice shards had reached Lazarus as they had been deflected away. Although, a small piece of wood stuck out from the side of his neck. Lazarus screamed through his pain, “Fucking bitch! I’LL KILL HER!”

“Sir, are you alright!?” Said the soldier that was underneath Lazarus.

Lazarus broke his rage for a moment and stared down at the soldier underneath him with a look of regret, “No I am not. I need medical attention. My dragon spirit cannot heal this wound.”

Looking around him, Lazarus noticed that most of his soldiers were either dead or injured. At least half of the dozen soldiers had been completely ripped apart by the force of the ice spell. Limbs littered the ground everywhere, and the blood was almost indistinguishable from the mud on the ground. The few soldiers who had taken cover were extremely injured. Some were missing an arm or a leg and groaned in pain. Others had merely taken shrapnel to various body parts.

Rolling over into the mud and onto his back, Lazarus let the soldier sit up and tend to the wound on his neck. The wind and rain continued to pelt them as the soldier worked on helping his Skera commander. The soldier sat up on armored knees and looked over to the front of the house. The front of the house was now encased in a wall of ice as were the windows.

After removing the hood from Lazarus' head, the soldier yanked the splinter of wood out of the Lazarus’ neck with a swift pull. The Skera howled in pain and growled. Putting pressure on the wound with one hand, the soldier reached around to their side with the other and pulled out a bundle of gauze pads and a syringe from a large backpack. The soldier gripped the plastic protection cap of the needle with his hands, yanked off the cap with a swift pull, and immediately returned to putting pressure on the wound with a free hand.

As the soldier stabbed the needle into the neck wound, they then starts talking through the microphone built into the helmet. On the front portion of the mask is a small speaker that allows them to speak normally while still being protected by their headgear. As the medication is slowly injected, the soldier starts relaying information to Lazarus, “Sir, the rest of the men are either K.I.A. or severely injured. I’ll need to evacuate them and treat their injuries. The fugitives have barricaded themselves inside the house with some kind of ice magic. You’ll need to breach the ice with a thermite pad to melt through. Alright, the Isomeds should be kicking in right about now. I’ll wrap up the wound, and you’re good to go.”

The wound on Lazarus’ neck started to foam with a thick white substance which quickly hardened and stopped the bleeding. For extra protection, the soldier began wrapping Lazarus’ neck with the gauze and tied a tight knot to keep it in place.

As Lazarus sat up on his elbows to examine his surroundings, he asked, “What’s your name, soldier?”

The soldier responded through the black helmet, “My codename is Hellhound, sir.”

Lazarus smirked and grunted as he stood up from the muddy ground, “Consider this an unofficial promotion to Lieutenant. Get these soldiers out of here as soon as you can. I’m going in alone.”

Lieutenant Hellhound swiftly acknowledges the order, “Yes, sir.”

Lieutenant Hellhound left Lazarus standing there and immediately started tending to the other soldiers who were injured. Lazarus began slowly trudging through the mud as he watched his soldier give medical attention to the others. He broke his attention away from the mess of bodies, walked past his fallen soldiers, and up the steps of the Sullivan farmhouse encased in ice.

Lazarus then places his palm up to the wall of ice and grips it with his thick claws. The purple glow underneath his cape grows to a frighteningly deep bright violet and then the light disappears as begins to radiate beyond the visible spectrum. A thrumming sound, akin to that of a steady drumbeat, emanates from the Draegona Crystal set into Lazarus’ armor.

The drumbeat picks up a steady tempo and increases in frequency at a dramatic pace. The beat grows in rhythm so quickly that it now sounds like a buzzing insect and then a whistle. The whistle rises in pitch and nears the decibel range of a jet engine. A purple light stems from underneath Lazarus’ palm moments before the ice wall shatters inwards. A lightning bolt of concentrated energy smashes into the ice, superheating it and vaporizing it into harmless steam. The house groans in distress as Lazarus steps into the demolished home once more.