Galahad shielded his face with an arm as the Lancer and Archer exploded in a shower of ice shards and mist. He heard the voice, and his voice ran colder than the glacier around him. Throwing his battle mask off and sending it clattering against the ice with a single motion, Galahad found himself face to face with [i]him[/i]. Without a doubt, Galahad knew this man. The same man he had seen in his visions, that haunted his sleep- the visage of death that drove Galahad in his pursuit of power for the greater part of the last decade, stood before him.

[i]"You."[/i] Galahad half breathed, half growled. Galahad's fists clenched, and he gripped at his sword instinctively. Yet he did not act just yet. 

The man spoke- not to him, but to Tatiana. Galahad twitched. He was Lord Dara's protector? The way he spoke made it seem similar to the way in that Tatiana's terviclops was her protector. Was this man not in fact a man, but a demon born of the glacier? The Man-demon spoke of how he had used the death of the Garrison to lure them out to the Glacier, and to prevent them from perishing along with the rest of the Varyan steamships. He spoke in riddles and enigma, and part of Galahad might have thought that this was how Ragnar thought of him when [i]he[/i] spoke in riddles, but now was not the time for jokes.  

Finally, the demon turned to him and spoke. His ruby eyes meeting Galahad's emerald ones. Both of their faces hard as stone.

"Warleader. Do not interfere in my work. Within moments the Varyan fleet will be purged from this world and my fleet will continue eastward to our destination. You and I are heading in the same direction, but I plead with you. If you value the lives of those under your command, do not follow in my path. Let this be our final meeting."

Galahad stepped forward, his armored boot crunching on the ice and frost of the glacier, shaking with uncharacteristic anger. "Who [i]are[/i] you, Demon? My will will not be molded by your 'warnings', and your threats against the lives of my Warband will not go unpunished." 

The man's face seemed to grow even stonier, but he did not speak. Galahad unsheathed his sword violently and leveled his blade at the man.

"Answer me!" Galahad demanded, as he continued approaching the man. 

Finally losing his patience, Galahad pulled the trigger on his blade. Once, twice, then six times until the cylinder cycled empty. Bullets slammed into the visage of the man, whose appearance immediately faded away as the first bullet struck, leaving in its place a plain statue of ice. Collecting the ether in his palm, Galahad summoned a stalagmite of black ice from the Glacier and sent it piercing through the frozen throne, lifting the huge ice structure partially off its base, and crushing the icey humanoid visage into shards. 

Galahad breathed out a short breath before turning to the rest of his compatriots.

"Quickly, we should return home."