The Demonic Blade blooms in its fallen glory
The sword of fate sleeps in the endless frost
The call from the holy pool guides the faltering king
The figure pulling out the magic sword is firm yet hesitant
The frost and snow condensed the tears on the cold face
Mist like tide
Slowly dyeing the ends of the hair black
A head full of silver hair and eyes full of frost
Cursed destiny calls to the lord of death
The enemy's sword is my medicine
Thousands of years later, he is still a lonely king.
Concept: dota2 fan fiction