The Conquerors bloodline

It was a cold winters day when me and my men found ourselves dragging our tired limbs through the northern frontiers.

By then near half of us had already met our fates to the last Super's we'd been tasked with hunting down.

We'd gotten a lead from one of the Emperor's scouts that there'd been unusual weather patterns in the forests far to the north. One moment it would be a searing summers day, but in the blink of an eye the forest would be encapsulated in an all-encompassing chill that froze the green off the leaves of the trees and turned all the creatures to stone. Or as we later learned, froze them solid, down to their skin, blood and bone.

We hadn't gotten much rest after just finishing off the Tyrant and lugged it back to the squinks back home for what I soon learnt not long after this hunt was used in the creation of an Imperial Arms called Incursio. It was around that time I learnt the truth of why we were being sent out to slay these beasts.

Getting back on track.

Our trek to the northern frontiers had taken us weeks of endless marches. Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if it were more to the lines of months.

When your balls pack up and decide to go on a vacation, you stop telling time accurately. Gods how I envied those squinks in their cosy labs back in the city. All getting to eat lavishly while they practically bent the city over going about their own rampages with their newfound immunity to the law.

After around the five hundredth cadence we sung, we'd finally gotten close to wherever this beast was making its nest. We had made out way through Kliks of frozen forests with not a single living creature in sight, lost Herbert, Terra and Ulysses to frost, all three having passed in the middle of the night because they'd forgotten to shut their tent properly.

I wish we could have given them a proper burial, instead we just left them there, all three shoved in a tent in the middle of nowhere leaving them as snacks to the frozen wildlife while we all went to hunt down this weather controlling beast.

Except, once we found it, we came to regret ever encountering it.

It nested itself within a frozen lake where the centre looked like a fat man dive bombed and the water just decided to stop in the middle of time forming hundreds of giant ice spikes that parted in just one area that allowed us access into the area where the beast was resting.

By then it hadn't gotten a name. We had just taken to calling it the Frozen Fucker or Mr. Snowshoes.

The squinks later informed us survivors it was a female.

I heard the squinks throwing around a name for it, the Wabakaki. While I ain't a pro at whatever dialect they spoke, I knew at least what the name of this horrible beast meant in Empyrion. The Ice Devil.

And a devil it was indeed.

My men pissed themselves when they first saw it. Of all the beasts we'd hunted to this point. This one held the most powerful aura within its two snow eyes.

It stood on two, sometimes four legs and towered over each and every one of us. It held no muscles, no flesh, just bone and skin. Yet it held more strength than even our cannons.

It dressed itself in furs like we did. It's frozen hands carved to claws that severed many a mans body in twain. Brutally tearing off head after head, pulling out hearts by the root before feasting on them infront of us. Crunching them to dust within its dear skull head.

Some of the more unfortunate men found themselves firmly planted on the beasts horns.

I watched as they were turned to ice before shattering into oblivion.

We were lucky to get a few good hits in with our cannons, and by the end of this whole ordeal we had been torn down to just twenty odd men.

And even when we thought that was the end, the beast just stood back up and lumbered towards us. Its jaws clattering as blood as dark as the night seeped the earth.

It didn't want to die. It wanted to feast upon us to heal.

I was the one to set the final cannon off that shattered the beasts face into two, tearing a hole right through its head and destroying it horns in the process.

After that me and my men were given leave to let our bodies rest for just long enough before we were sent off to deal with another beast, or well beasts as it would happen to be, but that's for a later story.

I hadn't heard much about what happened to the beasts body after all that had happened. But that body caused my very body to tremble in fear. Just staring at it for a few seconds was enough for me to start hearing apeshit in my head.

One of them men, Tharan. The voices had driven him insane; he nearly tore Quir's throat out with his teeth. Before we could even hold him down, Tharan had already begun to convulse, blood gushing out of every hole on his body leaving him nothing but a festering body on the roadside.

Of all the hunts. This was likely the worst. The beast was brutal and bloodthirsty with an unparalleled control over ice. But it was also this challenge that strengthened our bonds and lead to us bringing down the rest of the Supers with less casualties.

But no matter what, there was always casualties.

What the squinks crafted from this monstrosity, I can only guess.

Just hear my warning. Fire is not your friend. It may melt the ice, but it will not kill the beast. To truly end the beast, aim for the head or heart. End it in one fell blow before it exhausts you.

And finally.

DO NOT LISTEN TO THE VOICES!

They will draw you to insanity before ending your life.

To those who encounter whatever construct is formed of this beast. Be warned. I fear this may very well be the worst monstrosity I have had a hand in making.

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Due to the nature of this and the next chapter being a filler and not really plot relevant (aswell as being really short) you get both.