Chapter 333

Chapter 333

Krom had been tasked with making sure the Frostmaw were hit with a blizzard in the middle of the snowy plains.

He had an unwavering confidence in any mission as long as he possessed the staff that had been bestowed to him by Irizard. But the sight of the crystal orb shattering left him utterly devastated.

"Wh-why..."

"Kiik! Run! Run!"

"Why did Irizard..."

"Kiik! Don't pass out! You're heavy!

"Lift him! Lift there too!"

Several moles hurriedly carried Krom on their backs and began retreating.

"Why are those guys..."

"Anyway, it's good that we have one less concern."

Yeva and Ishi grumbled amongst themselves.

BOOM...

BOOM...

As the Icemaw drew closer, the Frostmaw were shocked by their drastically changed appearance.

"Wh-what kind of power..."

"What on earth happened?"

Thinking back to when the Icemaw were banished from the tribe, it was hard to imagine their current form.

After their rampage, their teeth became separated, and their hair sparse from their intense pain. Their final appearance, which resembled a well-dried mummy, could no longer be seen.

They grew three times larger and exuded an overwhelming presence as if they had become giants.

"Kahaha! I wished for this day to come, but who would have thought it would come from the hands of my brother, who returned from death?"

"Brother, are you ready to fight?"

Bram grinned at Bron's words.

"Yes, let's march."

Everyone looked in one direction.

While looking at the snowy plains, the massive army started heading slowly toward the North, where the mole base was.

* * *

Whir...

The blizzard would soon arrive.

Those familiar with the weather claimed this storm wouldn't be particularly fierce. Even so, it was a Hwigeltong strom.

It was an unfavorable environment for combat.

Creak...

Creak...

Kikiki...

Given the moles being mostly underground, their base had rarely been attacked. No one was willing to risk fighting them in their underground domain.

To make things worse, the one leading them was Irizard, a fragment of an Old God. That's why, after the Frostmaw’s fall from grace, the Emon had risen to dominate the power hierarchy.

Kiiiik!

"They're coming! Coming!"

Whir...

Boom...

Boom...

Boom...

The rumbling of drums filled the air.

Resonating from a distance, it instilled unprecedented fear in the Emon—a fear deeply etched into their unconscious.

"They're here...!"

Even though the Emon had gained intelligence, their history was extremely short, leaving them far from possessing knowledge that spanned all aspects of society.

They compensated for their lack of knowledge with their sheer numbers and aggressive expansion, which turned into a fatal weakness in such situations.

"There are so many!"

"What should we do!"

"Zakcha, what should we do?!"

Zakcha's gaze was locked on someone far across the snowy plains—Seol, who didn't shy away from his stare.

'We can win...'

Seol noticed the unease in Zakcha's eyes and realized that he was wavering.

'The battle will ignite in an instant.'

Everyone gathered there most likely shared the same thought. This fight was poised to burst into flames as quickly as dry straw, creating a massive wildfire.

In Hwigeltong, the land of death, it wasn't a fight for survival but how many enemies you could kill.

Seol's heart began to race.

The eerie stillness before war dulled everyone's senses.

'I must focus on what I have to do.'

Everyone had a distinct role in this war. Some had to take the vanguard and draw the enemy's attention, while others had to infiltrate enemy lines and reduce their numbers.

Seol and Bron's roles were more specific.

'Hunt Irizard.'

They needed to take Irizard, a fragment of an Old God, down. It was the most dangerous and, perhaps, nearly impossible task.

No salvation awaited them, and they faced immense obstacles. It was a battle where they could rely only on themselves.

"Oof... Oof..."

Boom...

Boom...

[The drums of war inspire you!]

[You feel less pain.]

[Your thirst for vengeance grows clearer.]

Boom...

Boom...

Bron stepped to the front of the formation and turned to face everyone.

"Now, there's no place to retreat."

"..."

"..."

Everyone became silent at his voice.

"Don't expect anything grand. We've always struggled to survive."

"Oof... Oof..."

Mist rose from their breaths and became clouds.

"We struggled to survive when Madria fled to the polar regions, seeking a different path from the other Old Gods."

"Oof... Oof..."

"We still struggled to survive when Hwigeltong's victors refused to acknowledge us."

Perhaps their lives had been a history of defeats.

"And now, the pain Madria bore is trying to seize our land. So once again, we have to struggle to survive."

"Oof... Oof... Haa..."

Bron's eyes widened, and he firmly said.

"Then, let us struggle to the very end."

Swoosh...

His wolf turned back to face forward.

The Emon gripped their weapons and glared at them.

Bron raised his hand slightly, feeling the wind.

Whir—!

The strong winds made arrows nearly useless. It was the same for the other side. But, the Frostmaw would not fall to mere arrows.

Bron shouted.

"Crush them all!"

It was their signal for war.

As if they had been waiting for this command, the wolf riders and the Frostmaw charged forward with their shields and weapons in hand.

"WOAH!"

"KHAHAHA!"

"I'm going to kill you all!"

WHOOM...

It almost felt as if the ground was shaking.

Seol shook his reins and moved alongside Bron.

Paf—!

Whoom!

The Frostmaw's front line collided with the Emon’s formation.

"They mustn't reach Irizard..."

Paf! Paf!

Water arrows came flying and pierced the necks of the Emon blocking their way.

Paf—!

Seol and Bron swiftly advanced through their ranks.

But then, Seol shouted at the top of his lungs.

"Bron! Stop!"

Crack!

The head of the wolf Bron was riding was cleanly severed.

Seol dismounted his wolf and sent it away to slow down their pace. They were now just a few steps away from Irizard's lair.

"You aren't getting past here..."

Seol turned his gaze to the mole exuding menacing energy, the one who beheaded Bron's wolf.

"Zakcha..."

"This is the end. Your rebellion stops here."

Although Irizard's lair was so close, they were now being held up.

"..."

"How dare you try to step into Irizard's sanctuary with your filthy feet..."

Zakcha's chilling words, which he delivered with his sword pointing forward, were abruptly interrupted.

"Khaha! I knew this would happen, Bron!"

A blue-eyed troll appeared while riding the wolf Seol had sent back.

"Skola..."

"HAHAHAHA!"

After leaping off the wolf, Skola charged at Zakcha like a missile.

CLANG—!

Kiik...

Kiik...

"Go, Bron," Skola smirked. "Don't fail this time."

"I won’t..."

"Ugh... Stop there!"

"You won't!"

Clang!

"Hey, mole, stay here and play with me."

"Ugh... You bastard..."

Clang...

Clang...

As the two fiercely clashed, Seol and Bron slipped into Irizard's lair.

[You enter Hall of the Shattered Frost.]

[Intermediate Insight activates.]

[A tremendous danger is awaiting.]

An ominous energy was flowing from within.

"Haa... Ha..."

"..."

"Oof.."

Seol glanced at Bron, whose breaths were heavy and uneven. The deeper they went, the more Bron's body trembled.

"Damn it... I can't calm down..."

"What's wrong? We've come this far..."

"Haha... That's why... I'm afraid of failure."

"..."

"I'm terrified of failing again. This fight... is very important. What if... I fail again?"

"It's probably over."

"Khaha! You're right. It'll all be over..."

Bron stared at Seol's back, who was confidently marching ahead.

"Hey..."

"What?"

"Aren't you afraid? Of all this?"

"Afraid?"

"Yes. Our opponent is Irizard. The..."

At that moment...

Thud...

Something came rolling across the ground—it was the skull of an Emon.

A massive mound of bones came into view. And atop of it, there was a being gazing down upon them.

Whoosh...

A transcendent existence, who had absurdly borrowed the form of a troll, looked down at Bron and Seol.

- Welcome...

It was the fragment of an Old God, Irizard.

- One who has returned from death and wanderer.

Whir...

The wind howled fiercer than any blizzard or flame. It carried a cold that seemed like it could freeze everything in its path.

Thud...

Bron fell to one knee.

"Haa... Haa..."

It wasn't an act of submission or respect before battle—it was fear. The existence of Irizard herself overwhelmed him.

Irizard looked at him with pity.

"I... I..."

"Bron, stand up. You aren't thinking of fighting in that state, right?"

Bron forced himself to stand, suppressing his trembling.

He couldn't help but wonder upon looking at Seol. How could he face Irizard without fear?

The answer was surprisingly simple. Seol had always walked the razor's edge, fighting countless battles with everything on the line. To him, this was just another step in that unyielding process.

Perhaps the most extraordinary being in Hwigeltong wasn't Irizard but Seol.

Crunch...

Irizard stood atop the mound of bones and clad herself in an armor forged from Frost.

Crack...

- I'm cold itself.

Bron's fear grew as Irizard revealed more of her power, but it didn't break him because his comrade was someone who could stand against that fear.

"Bron, how much do I need to wait?"

"Haha... Khahaha! I'm sorry! I was just reminiscing a bit."

"Shall we start?"

"Of course..."

Bron's trembling had ceased.

Irizard also questioned Seol. After all, it was the first time someone hadn't shown any reaction before her.

- What are you...?

[You have entered a raid battle with the Old God's Fragment, 'Irizard of the Glacier.']

[A certain amount of Era's Might can be gained in this Adventure.]

[The outcome of this Adventure will be recorded in history.]

[The results of this Adventure will influence Pandea.]

[This is an extremely dangerous battle.]

[Current raid members: 2.]

[Rewards will significantly increase upon successful subjugation.]

[Difficulty is near impossible.]

...

BZZ—!

Seol fused with Jamad and took their stance. His arms were spread slightly, not in the position usually required for casting a Shamanic Spell, but in a posture more suited for clapping.

The Night Crow smiled at Irizard's question.

"I'm a Shaman."

CLAP—!