The violet sky of the Frost-Tide Empire was no longer a sign of spatial instability; it had become the permanent canopy of a new world order.
Within the 50x time-dilation field, the equivalent of months had passed in mere days of outside time. The jagged, disparate landscapes of Iceland's glaciers and Aquabyss's coral reefs had been forged into a seamless, terrifyingly efficient machine of war and industry.
The day of the Great Proclamation arrived not with a whisper, but with the rhythmic, ground-shaking stomp of 250,000 elite boots.
The Grand Plaza of the Frost-Tide Citadel was a feat of architectural impossibility. Built using Abyssal stone and reinforced by Glacial mana, it stretched for miles, overlooking the merging point where the frozen northern seas met the warm, glowing depths of the original Aquabyss.
