Imiron, King of the Flesh Viku. The strength of this half-giant warrior was adored by the Viku people, his brutality terrified everyone, including his people, and his cold-bloodedness made the myriad creatures of Northrend tremble at the sound of his name.

Unfortunately, all this is a thing of the past.

Imiron, who was synonymous with the powerful, brutal and cold-blooded Viku people, lay there quietly, his body frozen in ice, and the Viku who had lost his life, no matter how strong he was, could not pose any threat.

If nothing happens, His Majesty the King, who can make Northrend tremble when he stomps his feet while alive, will fall into eternal sleep in the howling cold wind, just as countless Viku have once appeared, and his name will eventually be forgotten in the endless river of time.

If there is an accident, then it will be different.

From above, the ground was black and oppressive, and countless half-giants, the Flesh and Blood Viku, were seeing off their king, and some kind of ancient funeral was going on.

Outside the sky, a sharp sword burst through the air with a sharp whizz, and landed on the large ice that had frozen Imiron, under the gaze of countless pairs of eyes of the Viku. The unopened blade plunged into the ice, and the tip of the sword stopped just as it touched Imiron's forehead.

What happened?

The sudden turn of events caught the Viku people off guard, and they never imagined that such a thing would happen at the king's funeral.

Is someone here to make trouble?

The Viku looked around, but found no troublemaker.

But if someone didn't make trouble, how did the sword come from, it can't be conjured out of thin air.

Unable to find the source of the sword, the Viku rioted, but they didn't realize that this was just the beginning.

The ice pierced by the sword was the hardest ice the Viku could find, and it was not ordinary ice, but 10,000-year-old ice buried hundreds of meters deep in the ice field. The hardness of this ice cannot be easily broken even by the strongest Viku, especially the one used by Imiron, which is even more amazing. It took several years for the Viku people to mine this piece of ice alone, and it took another twenty years to polish it.

With the abilities of a half-giant race like the Viku, it would take so much effort and so long to exchange for a human unless you don't know how much it would cost to be humans, even if humans had magicians.

For the sword of unknown origin can pierce the ice, all the Viku people who saw it were shocked, if it weren't for the fact that this sword was too small in their eyes, it would be as long as a finger of them, and they couldn't say that at this moment, for the sake of the magic weapon Viku people didn't care about anything else, they would have infighting first.

Then again, the appearance of this sharp sword when Imiron was about to be buried, and the coincidental piercing of the ice that sealed Imiron for thousands of years, would it be a sign of anything?

Many of the Viku people couldn't help but have such a thought in their hearts.

Click...... The cobweb-like crack centered on the place where the sword had pierced, spreading rapidly, and soon covered the entire block of ice.

Seeing this, the riots of the Viku people stopped, and they stared with bated breath, their eyes widened, and they looked at Imiron's location with anticipation and fear, and a premonition crept up in their hearts.

Could it be that the gods did not hesitate to perform miracles for the death of His Majesty Imiron, the most powerful warrior of the Viku, who was madly worshipped by them?

Miracles, is it really possible?

The Viku waited, anxiously waiting.

The clattering sound of the ice shattering continued, and the Viku people, whether they were in turmoil or waiting quietly, remained unaffected at all, and walked at their own pace until the ice finally could not bear it anymore and shattered into countless pieces with a bang.

The ice shattered, the sword lost its support point, and something that violated the laws of physics appeared—the sword did not fall, not even the slightest tilt.

The tip of the sword pressed against Imiron's forehead, neither stabbing it nor moving away, but the blade of the sword changed.

A few of the incomprehensible characters engraved on the sword slowly glowed, at first their luster was faint and dim, even if you looked closely, you couldn't see it, and gradually the faint light became intense, dazzling, and people couldn't look at it directly.

When the light of the text reached its peak, the entire sword seemed to be activated, and it trembled to disperse wisps of gray-black mist. As soon as the mist left the sword, it burrowed into Imiron's body, causing the skin of the deceased Viku king to gradually turn black and back to its original color.

The surrounding Viku people didn't dare to take a breath, and they were even careful to breathe, for fear that their movements would be a little louder and disturb the sharp sword.

At this moment, in the hearts of the Viku people, the sword represents the gods.

Are miracles about to be revealed?

The Viku people were all nervous, and whether the truth was really what they thought would depend on the changes in Imiron.

The eyes that had been closed suddenly opened, they were a pair of eyes that should have been closed forever, and Imiron's body moved a few times, and then the long-dead king of the Viku people jumped up with his hands on his hands.

The bloodthirsty eyes of indifference swept all around, and the Viku people who came into contact with their gaze all fell to their knees tremblingly, those eyes were all too familiar to them, they were the deepest memories left in their hearts by the most admired and feared king of the Viku people, Imiron.

I thought I would never see them again, but now that they were open again, the Viku people were both terrified and excited.

After scanning the audience, all the clansmen bowed down on the spot, but he was the only one standing, Imiron, took a deep breath, looked up to the sky and shouted: "Roar! ”

Alive, I, Imiron, King of the Viku people, the most powerful Half-Giant warrior, the cold-blooded tyrant of Northrend, has rejected the call of death and has come to this world once more. The earth will tremble under my feet, and the sky will weep for me, and countless living beings will be sacrificed to the thought of his master who will save me from the abyss of death.

The Viku people, who were so shocked by Imiron's resurrection from the dead, didn't notice it, and the moment Imiron's eyes opened, the sword that caused everything to happen disappeared without a trace. They didn't even notice that in the clouds at a height of 10,000 meters above their heads, an undead bone dragon with all the flesh peeled off and only the skeleton was hiding in it under the cover of the clouds, and a black-robed human mage on the bone dragon's head witnessed the whole process.

When Imiron's roar resounded through the icefields of Northrend, Ainan, who had directed it all, was tying the rune sword back to his waist.

"Imiron, don't let me down. The Veku, the first creations of the Titans, hehehehe......"