Arsolo Stronghold.
Capital of the Norva Assili.
An arrangement of armored warriors, knights, and other soldiers lined up perfectly in front of a wooden platform. The men on the frontmost side ranks gripped flags with symbols embedded on both sides.
On one side was the bladed end of a halberd axe. A line circled on its lowest part embroidered with crystal symbols on top.
On the other side of the flag was a snowflake put inside a circle. Four lines evenly spaced around one another extended outwards the circle, shaped like the small letter t.
The soldiers put on a serious expression when a pressuring aura emerged.
The platform trembled when a battle-scarred man stepped inside. His thick brows were furrowed and the cold weather dried his thin light blue lips.
His bearing was straight and proud even though he was wearing crystalline armor made of frostal ice. Frostal ice was colder and more versatile than regular ice, almost comparable to the enhanced titanium created by the dwarves.
The man rested his left hand on the hilt of his sheathed large sword strapped on his waist. His right hand was holding onto a large helmet with four horns branching out like those of a demonic creature.
He sighed while staring at the miniature high seat prepared for him in the center of the platform.
'These idiots, are they mocking me?'
The aide on his side went over with a guilty expression, "High King Garron, it's best to focus on the task at hand.", advising him before his temper acts up.
High King Garron's built was way too overboard and this was the largest chair they could quickly find.
High King Garron eyed his aide who cowered after noticing his glare.
"Th-th-the Siegfried Clan sent some of their men for this mission. There are also the Nahorva Clan, Vargo Clan, Marneski Clan, Velos Clan, and your other loyal subordinates.", the aide bowed, "With this army at your disposal, we can definitely subdue the divine frost dragon's assault."
Two stalwart figures approached behind him. They looked similar to High King Garron.
One was older with pale and rugged skin. His right eye was closed, bearing the mark of a bear's claw that stretched from his bald forehead to his right chin. His left hand was crippled, relying only on his other hand to swing the large metallic great axe.
Compared to him, the younger one was lively and well. He had a bright smile on his glossy face, featuring a large spiky hair that bloomed all around his upper body. He wielded two short swords with a crescent end which glowed in dark blue.
"Brother, we're here to offer our strength as well. Do not ever forget us.", the older man tapped Garron's shoulder.
High King Garron nodded at them, "Thank you, Xerga, Misha."
Xerga and Misha, the older and the younger, both nodded in reply to him.
Garron was blessed for having these two as his brothers. Unlike his unfaithful wife and younger son, they remained by his side despite the troubles he was facing.
Seeing that everything was in place, Garron faced his soldiers and stepped forward to greet them.
"My dear brothers and sisters, warriors of the Norva Assili, we are gathered here together today to fulfill our duties as the guardians of the north, the protector of our people!"
"The divine frost dragon, Harrtugg Naaw, has completely gone mad and is preparing to attack the towns near the Frozen Glades. Their numbers are many, and the situation is dire."
"Many will die and even I am not fully confident that I will return alive!"
"However, if we do not march for the safety of those who are in danger and powerless, then to whom shall they ask for help then? The elves? The Morning Star Empire? The League? The Knights?"
He said in a despondent tone. He wasn't going to persuade those who did not want to go. After all, his plan was suicidal and idiotic in the eyes of the public and the other clans.
But what else could he do?
The Siegfried Clan was gaining power overnight.
Since they badly wanted the throne, then so be it. He wasn't ambitious nor did he ask for the throne in the first place.
He only did everything just to protect his daughter from harm. Otherwise, their family would have been long oppressed to damnation.
Now that Olivia was gone nowhere in the treacherous lands of Aludia, he had no reason to continue becoming the High King of Norva Assili.
He even reckoned that it was more of a blessing than a disaster.
Garron hoped in his heart on dying under the hands of the magical beasts so that Olivia wouldn't pursue the Siegfried Clan for vengeance in the future.
The Siegfried Clan will never let him return alive after this short crusade. They will take over once he leaves the Arsolo Stronghold, and will do everything in killing him once and for all.
Garron also wasn't in the position to remain neutral in this incident. His rivals will pressure him, and in turn, the pubic will urge him to lend a hand in the frozen glades sooner or later.
It was better being proactive on this approach. He can rally in advance and embolden his loyal subordinate's trust on him. Otherwise, he will lose their support and gain emnity instead.
Taking his deepest breaths, Garron solemnly stared at the soldiers, waiting for their reply.
"No, High King! We, the soldiers of Norva Assili will fulfill our duties just as what our ancestors before us have done!", the soldiers shouted in unison.
Hearing this put a grin on his face. He put on the helmet from his right hand and unsheathed the large sword.
The aura of a radiant knight emanated from within him. Bluish smoke rose from the depths of his skin, lowering the temperature of the surrounding area.
At the same time, the soldiers unsheathed and raised their weapons and shields in respect to their High King and together, chanted the Norva Assili's Frost Hymn.
"From the cold northern lands, our bodies were forged!"
"Above the cracked searing ice, our voices will roar!"
"Oh, our forefathers in the past, grant us strength in this test!"
"May even in the face of death, our burning spirit will never be swept!"
The thunderous voices echoed towards the heavens. One could feel the rumbling in reply to the soldiers' unwavering resolve.
'Olivia, wherever you are, I hope you are in good hands! Father has done everything he could and this is where my life will end!'
Tears slowly fell in his eyes as his thoughts revolved around his daughter.
He channeled his chivalric will unto his sword and slashed towards the heavens.
"My dear warriors, now we march! For the Norva Assili!"
…
Thud!
A fist punched through the wooden wall and left a mark. Blood splashed on it, dyeing it red.
The thudding continued. It was clear that someone was very angry and it was no other than Veron.
"Damn it! Damn it!"
He cursed and continued punching.
When he heard that the divine frost dragon was in an episodic rage, Veron became disheartened and his world broke down.
At first, he couldn't believe it so he wandered around to ask a similar question to all the passersby he met.
The hopeless situation worsened the more he heard of the same news over and over again.
Since he couldn't march over the divine frost dragon and shout at him, he could only vent his anger in silence, pointing the curses at the person who messed against such a formidable enemy, or rather, an aide that could have helped in fixing Haera's curse.
Even though he had to persuade the divine frost dragon at all costs, a possibility was better than certain rejection.
He stopped punching the wall and crumbled in sadness. He rested his hands on the wall and hit his head with his fists, whimpering silently.
Veron did not want to disturb Haera who was now almost cold as dead in the soft bed behind him.
She was barely breathing now. Forcing the ice out of her body wasn't effective as before.
Instead, it worsened Haera's condition because the forceful expulsion injured her body every time he did so.
Veron's mind became confused. He didn't know what else can he do, to whom he could ask for help, and whether Haera will remain alive under his protection.
Thinking of her survival, the image of his brother passed through his head which caused him to cry even more.
"Brother, I have failed… I have failed!"
"I… I am sorry… I couldn't help Haera! I couldn't help you…"
Norton and Veron were rivals back in their youthful days. Despite Veron's intense hatred against Norton, the latter continued being friendly and respectful to him.
On all his darkest days, this rival had helped him several times yet Veron didn't appreciate Norton's kindness.
After turning older and the two reached an agreement, Veron asked Norton for his never-ending forgiveness and goodwill.
"That is because I see you as my brother, not my rival. What the hell were you thinking of before, huh?", the younger Norton reprimanded Veron, "I will always be behind your back. I hope that you will too when I need you someday!"
Hearing those words in the deepest core of his memory, Veron's tears flowed incessantly.
Where was he when his brother needed him the most now?
That was when he heard Haera's weakened voice whispering to him.
"Uncle… let me see him. Let me see him one last time…"
Veron turned around and knelt in front of Haera.
"Haera… Haera, I'm sorry that uncle couldn't…"
Her cold index finger touched Veron's lips, gesturing him to shut his mouth. She smiled and implied something to Veron.
And that was to let her see Kai again.
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