Chapter Sixty-Three: Awakening Xingda Gousa

Frostmourne was exulting, rejoicing, its runic power bursting forth in its most formidable display. Roald gripped the hilt with both hands as a torrent of spectral blue motes welled up around him, their force making the entire underground chamber tremble. The countless soul-lights gathered in a spectacle more magnificent than any blizzard.

"You shall never defy your fate."

The final incantation rang out.

The demon "Beast," which had possessed Erika of the Hand Society, tried desperately to flee. It spewed a jet of black energy from its mouth, hoping in vain to resist the absorption of its soul.

Clearly, it had underestimated Frostmourne's dominion over spirits.

In its spectral state, "Beast" was wrenched and twisted into grotesque shapes, finally reduced to pleading for mercy.

"No, please, I beg you, spare me!"

But Roald showed no hesitation. He thrust Frostmourne deeper into its body.

In an instant, the blue soul-light pierced the chamber’s darkness. Erika, overtaken by "Beast," split at every seam—her features, limbs, and torso cracking like fine porcelain, from which threads of blue radiance erupted.

"No! This can't be; I curse you..."

With its last vestige of strength, "Beast" gave a defiant roar. Yet the runes and deathly energies of Frostmourne annihilated its soul core, absorbing it utterly into the blade.

The cracks on Erika’s stolen body widened. When Roald finally withdrew his sword, her soulless form was left brittle and lifeless, shattering like a porcelain doll.

She had already died once, revived only by Alexandra through the dragon bones. Now, at last, her journey had reached its destined end.

"Kel'Thuzad, did you hear that? It cursed me."

Roald turned slowly, then spread his arms wide.

From where he stood, waves of Scourge soldiers unfurled like a tide, then fell to their knees in reverence.

"Indeed, master." The frost receded from Kel'Thuzad as he too bowed to Roald. "It is nothing but the wail of the defeated—a jest fit for the victor’s feast, the yapping of insects."

"Lich... King!"

Erika gazed at Roald, her expression conflicted. Though she had suspected as much, she could no longer deny that her master had changed—something shackled within him had been released.

"I have a new plan, Kel'Thuzad."

Roald released the souls of the five Fingers of the Hand Society. Even in death, terror was etched on their faces. Through them, Roald gleaned fragments of knowledge—about the Seven Cities of Heaven.

From their souls, he learned that when these dragon bones first appeared, this land was primeval forest, and that the skeleton was linked to the Kunlun Sage, "Shou Lao."

Yet "Shou Lao" was not a single dragon, but the title given to the dragons of Kunlun. Each time a Shou Lao was slain by the Iron Fist, its dragon energy was infused into the victor, and a new dragon egg would begin to hatch in the lair. Another Shou Lao would then grow, awaiting the next Iron Fist’s challenge.

Only the Iron Fist bore the essence of Shou Lao—this chi was the source of Kunlun’s power. In other words, the Iron Fist was the human manifestation of Shou Lao.

It was this chi that gave the dragon bones their power of resurrection.

Besides the Seven Cities of Heaven, there was also the "Ghost City," regarded as the Eighth City. It imprisoned all the wicked souls from the Seven Cities, and its gates could only be unsealed by the chi of the seven immortal weapons.

Yet Roald’s interest was piqued by the secrets of the Eighth City within the Seven Cities. He found the matter most intriguing.

The five Fingers of the Hand had stolen the dragon bones from Kunlun a millennium ago, fleeing as traitors. A thousand years had nearly brought them to the end of their lives, but with the emergence of Danny, the new Iron Fist, they glimpsed hope once more.

Yet Danny’s abilities were still nascent, so imposters—Madame Gao, Bakuto, and the rest—were sent to provoke him, forcing his growth. They then conspired with Kingpin, purchased the Rand building, and began excavating the dragon bones.

Unbeknownst to them, they played perfectly into Roald’s machinations.

Were it not for the seal, which only the Iron Fist’s lineage could break, Roald would have used the Space Stone to take the dragon bones long ago.

"I am eager to hear the details, my master," Kel'Thuzad replied, already guessing Roald’s intentions.

"Divide some of these dragon bones to craft a multitude of phylacteries for us. Then, using mirror images, reproduce them in various forms. You’ve absorbed the power of the Cube—I trust you can conceal these little darlings anywhere, even the most secret places."

"Indeed, the life force in these dragon bones intoxicates me. I’ll make sure each little darling fulfills its purpose."

"Excellent. Now, let’s proceed to the final task."

Roald tossed the souls of the Hand’s Fingers to Erika and Zazaila for their own probing, then strode toward the dragon bones with Frostmourne in hand.

He traced the sword around the massive skeleton, its towering joints a testament to the dragon’s might. As Roald advanced, Frostmourne, now empowered by the devoured demon’s soul, shone with ever-stronger runic brilliance. Spectral motes appeared as if from nowhere, blanketing the dragon bones like falling snow.

He did not know how much time passed, only that the entire underground chamber was transformed into a frozen world.

At last, he stood before the dragon’s skull. Guided by Frostmourne, countless blue soul-lights clung to the bony walls, connected by the skeleton’s structure, imbuing the remains with a chilling, uncanny presence.

The flow of soul energy converged on Roald, linking him to the immense dragon skeleton. Power surged, and the pounding of his heart echoed through the void.

"It seems the master’s chances of awakening the Lady are quite high this time," Kel'Thuzad remarked, channeling energy into the orange cat he cradled, shielding it from the bitter cold. Erika and Zazaila stood behind him, all three watching Roald, while waves of Scourge soldiers spread outward to guard the perimeter.

"I have experimented on Vrykul, barbarians, high elves, night elves, orcs, and draenei. I conducted countless tests, yet still could not perfect the Scourge plan," Kel'Thuzad mused, his movements graceful as though discussing a trivial matter. "I founded the Cult of the Damned to unravel the secrets of the soul. As you see, I succeeded—and failed."

"But now, with you as my master, the future will be forever changed!"

Feeling the energy surging from the dragon bones, Kel'Thuzad smiled with genuine delight. Clearly, Roald’s command to forge phylacteries had pleased him—he finally felt appreciated.

Frostmourne quivered ever more violently, its runes flashing with blinding light, energy driven to its utmost peak.

With a forceful thrust, Roald plunged Frostmourne into the dragon’s skull. The icy blade pierced the bone with ease. He then sliced open his palm, pressing it to the hilt so his blood flowed down the blade.

After a moment’s stillness—

A tremendous tremor erupted.

A colossal wave of energy exploded, visible to the naked eye.