Seol had returned to the outpost with Bron and Brutul.
"Father, why did you deceive me?"
"Brutul."
"I still vividly remember that day. But how... How could you deceive the tribe even until your death?"
"Because it was everyone's fault..."
"Everyone's fault...?"
"I'll explain everything. There’s probably a lot you don't know."
Brutul refrained from acting rashly, waiting for Bron's explanation.
"The Icemaw, including Bram, didn't become that way by choice."
"Then... whose wish was it?"
Bron revealed the truth that had been hidden from Brutul.
"The tribes."
"..."
"The tribe made them accept the power of the heroic spirits."
"Was it Branka's order?"
"Branka was part of it. But the truth is... we had no choice left."
The reason they had no choice but to accept the powers of the heroic spirits was related to the Frostmaw’s circumstances at that time.
"It had been a long time since our people, who once belonged to the Waterfall Tribe, settled here in the glaciers lands. Hwigeltong has always been a land of death, but I’ve heard it was even harsher back then."
Seol nodded.
In many records and documents, Hwigeltong was described as the land of death. That's how dangerous it was for life to settle there.
"However, our ancestors survived, and so did those who inherited this land from them."
Bron's gaze deepened.
"In that process, our ancestors formed a profound bond with the beings of this land, awakening wisdom and strength from them. They even became similar beings themselves. However... their strength was dangerous—accepting it took them one step closer to savagery. In the end, that strength was forgotten."
The Icemaw’s power was borrowed from the heroic spirits of their ancestors. Seol thought of a troll.
'Branka must have received strength from them.'
Brutul kept listening.
"It was Branka who recovered those forgotten Shamanic Spells. Even then, the Frostmaw fought countless wars over Hwigeltong, battling numerous enemies. The ancient heroic spirits awakened the savagery we had forgotten, allowing us to win many wars." ℞
Bram was Bron's older brother.
In other words, they were siblings. This made Seol curious.
'Why did Bram inherit the power of the heroic spirits, but Bron didn’t?'
Bron soon answered that unspoken question.
"For the first time in several generations, I inherited the pure power of the Waterfall—power that didn't align with the power of the heroic spirits. Instead, Bram delved into that dangerous power on my behalf. We were young then, and we had to do everything we could to protect the tribe in Branka's absence."
"Father... are you saying Bram bore all the burdens in your place?"
"It wasn't just him. Bram and many others accepted the power of the heroic spirits."
"Why... Why did they have to..."
Why did they have to embrace such a dangerous power? The new generation of the tribe, including Brutul, couldn't understand the tribe of that era, who had taken such a risk despite knowing the consequences.
"Because we had to survive."
"..."
"Madria was severely weakened after moving to Hwigeltong. There was nowhere else to retreat. We had to... create a place where we could exist."
In other words, Bram and the Icemaw had accepted the heroic spirits' power not out of greed but to protect the tribe.
"Even so... could anyone forgive what they did?"
"I know. That night... many died."
"Mother! She lost her life to Bram, someone she trusted the most... And yet, Father, why..."
"That's because I know it wasn't his fault."
Bron seemed to have already forgiven Bram.
"Not all matters can be judged by their outcomes alone. What seemed right at that time may not hold true today. This incident is no exception."
"Are you saying they were right?!"
"I'm saying the tribe was wrong. Handing them a sharp blade and expecting them not to get hurt—that whole thing was wrong from the beginning."
Bron was saying that since it was the tribe's decision, it was only right they should all bear the responsibility.
"Brutul. We abandoned them."
"..."
"We forced them to accept a dangerous power and shifted the responsibility to them..."
Brutul took a deep breath, trying to calm down at Bron's words.
"Does that matter now? They can't come back anymore. The heroic spirits will no longer lend us their power."
"I came here to resolve that."
"I'm going out to think for a moment."
"Yes."
Bron watched Brutul's retreating figure for a while.
"Hahaha! Arguing with my child, who's now older than me, makes me feel pathetic."
"Sometimes, you need to have an honest conversation."
Seol felt warmth from that sight. He had never experienced such a familiar bond before. He never had anyone kindly guide him like this.
"Well, it's just as you've heard. The Icemaw may be outcasts, but they weren't exiled for their sins."
"It's because of their power, right? That might go berserk at any moment."
"Exactly, on the night the Icemaw lost control, many tribe members who tried to restrain them died at their hands... But most saw that as inevitable."
"So power was more important than the lives that were lost?"
"We had to survive. The Icemaw were forced to carry the burden of that power due to the tribe's choice."
"So, what's your plan? Will reconciliation improve anything?"
"Emotional rifts will eventually fade with time and generations. And in war, emotions are the first thing that must be set aside."
Bron looked at Seol.
"We're going to hold a memorial ritual to soothe the spirits."
"Isn't having someone other than Branka conduct the memorial ritual dangerous?"
"That's why I'm asking you."
"..."
"I want you to lead the memorial ritual."
It seemed that this was how things were going to unfold.
"Is it because I've inherited Branka's power?"
"You got it half-right."
"What about the other half?"
"You're the strongest Shaman I know. If you fail, we won't need any further attempts."
"So you're asking me to throw myself into the fire with kindling in hand."
"Hahaha! I haven't even considered the possibility of you failing. If you do make this favor for me, I won't forget about this."
Seol asked Jamad.
'Can we do this?'
- There's nothing special about a memorial ritual. The issue lies in how favorably the spirits respond. Accept it.
'Are you sure?'
- If you don't take such debt now, they might have a change of heart later. However, Bron doesn't seem like someone who would do that. A memorial ritual... It's been a while.
Seol nodded upon hearing Jamad’s words.
"Alright. I'll do it."
"Really?"
"Yes."
"That's a relief... really."
* * *
Fwoosh...
The Icemaw trolls gathered at the outpost.
Those unrelated to the heroic spirits, like Skola, were left to keep watch. So all who were cursed by the heroic spirits were here.
"Yeva! Over here!"
- Yes. He had a similar boldness to yours.
"The tribe Branka left behind is in trouble. So why have you turned your backs on them?"
Swoosh...
This time, an owl appeared.
Just like the others, its size was comparable to a hill.
- Because it's futile.
"What...?"
The owl said while glaring menacingly.
- Despite how much they resist, they won't be able to sever the submission etched into their blood.
"..."
- We've existed for a long time. We've watched, clashed, and lent them our strength. Watching them only disrupts the peace within us.
Jamad sharply retorted.
"You call yourselves their ancestors yet lack even that much patience?"
- There's one way to sever the dominance of an Old God.
"Is that true...?"
This had been one of Jamad's ultimate goals, to break free from the Old God's control—to free the trolls from their grasp.
However, the words the owl uttered made Jamad's expression harden.
- To abandon being a troll, abandon being alive.
"What do you mean...?"
- My existence is beyond definition. To shed blood and form to transcend perception.
"Are you saying we should become something other than trolls...?"
They were suggesting to transform into beings of another dimension different from them, just like themselves.
- Exactly. Just like chrysalis emerges as something entirely new, you must become greater beings...
Jamad, who had been quietly listening, frowned.
"What would be the point of doing that...?"
- What...?
Seol realized from the start that their persuasion wouldn't work with Jamad. The words they uttered were things Jamad despised.
"If nothing is left, if everything but the essence of who I am is overturned..."
Whir...
The Earth’s energy swirled around the Night Crow's body.
"What's the point of that?"
- Without such a transformation, the trolls will never escape from the Old Gods.
"Hey... I'm a troll."
Jamad began scolding the old spirits in return.
"We're savage and like war. We reject any power other than the strength of Shamanic Spells and raw physicality."
He smirked.
"That's what I like. Purity. That's who I, Jamad, am."
BOOM...
BOOOM...
A massive snow leopard approached.
- If you give up on being trolls, the reason for fighting will also disappear. Wasn't peace the future you all desired?
"No. It has changed."
Jamad corrected their misunderstanding.
"It isn't about staying as trolls to fight. It's about fighting to remain as trolls. Combat is inevitable. That's what I understand."
- A life full of endless struggle... You and Branka are truly alike.
Just at that moment...
A frost storm surged through the space.
Whir...
Haha...
Hahaha...
Someone’s laughter echoed through the space.
The heroic spirits stared down the Night Crow as something bluish emerged from their body.
"You all are still the same."
- Branka...!
- As expected, I knew it was your scent.
- Haven't you gone to the Realm of Souls?
The lower part of Branka's body remained hazy, with only his upper body and face clearly defined. It proved that he only existed as a spirit.
"Ah, yes. Well, a lot happened... That's why I'm relying on this one."
- That form... Does that mean you lost?
- Branka was defeated?
- There's no way Branka would lose! After all, he's the one who accepted our power...
The heroic spirits seemed shocked at the idea of Branka losing.
Branka stepped in to persuade them in Jamad's place.
"Heroic spirits, the Frostmaw need your power.'
- Branka, didn't you say the same thing long ago?
"Did I? Well, I don't have a good memory."
- You fool! Despite having resisted so fiercely, nothing has changed! For generations, you've done nothing but resist Irizard. What could be more pointless than fighting for something that never changes?
"You're right. We might have to keep fighting until the day we die."
The bear spirit, who had remained silent, said.
- Then... Why keep fighting? Even in the face of endless defeat?
Branka laughed.
"Hahaha! What else can we do? That's how we were born. That's how our life is."
- You will lose. Irizard has already surpassed Madria.
"That isn't a good reason to avoid the fight."
- Even if we had our strength, the Emon cannot be underestimated. They have already...
"That's also not a good reason to avoid the fight."
Rustle...
A scent brushed lightly past the tip of their noses as a white fox appeared.
- Branka, your role is over. I will ask the young troll.
As the fox appeared, the spirits stepped back and bowed their heads.
- Young troll, all these obstacles lay in front of you. Why do you still fight?
Jamad answered firmly, as if he were making a vow.
"Because we were born on this land."
- I see...
Swoosh...
The forms of the heroic spirits started to change. They began transforming into massive trolls.
They were returning to their original shapes.
Behind them, countless flickering lights were dancing—all of them were spirits.
- You're right.
The giant trolls gazed down at Jamad and said.
- Then, there's no choice but to fight.
CRACK—!
The night shattered, and the heroic spirits dispersed.
WHOOSH...
Their souls were drawn into the bodies of the Frostmaw.