Chapter 45: The Final Frost

Silence. His Reaper was the first to comment.

[... Oof.]

“... That’s it?” Axel complained. “I sacrificed 8 points in all my Skills for this? I sacrificed all those boss loots for this? I could have got a Dragon Sword! I could have had an endless supply of alcohol!”

“Stop being so agitated,” Lune grumbled. “You are scaring the grub.”

The Eldarin was standing beside him. Axel was so distracted by his loot box opening that he didn’t even realise she had walked over.

There was something wiggling on his shoulder.

Very slowly, Axel turned his head. Squirming happily in a small puddle of its own slime was a thumb-sized, shiny purple larva. It was lying on its back, kicking its six stumpy little legs in the air excitedly. It oozed more slime, blowing tiny bubbles from its hide, before chewing upon the worn leather straps between Axel armour’s shoulder plates. 

With gentle hands, Lune carefully reached for the tiny grub. It seemed to sniff Lune’s fingers for a moment, before excitedly stumbling into her waiting palm.

The Eldarin carefully cradled the tiny larva before depositing them in a small, oval container the size of a lantern. It was filled with the scent of bio-chemicals and wet vegetation. Lune watched the grub awkwardly explore its new home for a moment before closing it, nodding in satisfaction.

“There. Best I can do for the moment with what I have on hand,” Lune said. “I have added mana tubes within, as it should serve as an effective magic incubator for the time being. Interesting grub, by the way. I’ve never seen a purple one before. Its colour is beautiful…”

“Are all Moonfly Grubs supposed to behave like that?” Axel asked, his curiosity overriding his frustration at his new ring for the moment.

“I have never seen a Moonfly Grub before, much less taken care of one. The Moonfly was long gone from the Fae Planet even before the System’s assimilation. I have only ever attended to the young of the long-descendant Fae Dragons,” Lune admitted. “There are similarities: both are the same size, and both exist as larvae after hatching. Their diets and needs should be similar too, if the old books I read were accurate. Great Ymir, do you have any advice?”

The Giant hummed. “It’s best to focus on the first stage of its growth first — namely, from grub to nymph. Dragon grubs require a vast amount of magical energy and caloric fuel to grow. The more you afford them, the better their growth. You need not worry about them overeating; they could spend their entire days doing nothing but devouring meals, and they would be fine.”

He turned to look at Axel. “If you choose to rear it, you would do well to employ the Princess’s expertise. Better yet, allow her to care for the grub together with you. There are not many Fae left who possess the skill and knowledge required to care for a dragon larva. You also have to protect it well, for the grub holds no defensive capabilities until it reaches at least the nymph stage. Supposedly.”

Axel raised an eyebrow. “Supposedly?”

“I have seen grubs of the Moonfly before… But none that are purple,” Ymir admitted. “There is a strange, albeit nascent, magical signature coming from your grub. I cannot confidently say of its current abilities, but even so, I would suggest adopting a protective approach to rearing it, nonetheless.”

“The incubator has some protective runes on it, but they will not hold under a direct hit.” Lune inspected the container once more before handing it over to Axel. “This goes without saying, but do not bring it into a fight.”

“There is no guarantee it would turn out as strong as the Fae Dragon you met, either,” Ymir added. “Do not get your hopes up. A purple child of the Moonfly has not been seen in centuries. Our information on their adult form is lacking. Some sources even claim the latter descendants became bigger and stronger than the first generation over time.”

“Bigger, perhaps, but not necessarily stronger,” Lune retorted. “The ancient texts claim that the Moonfly’s descendant lost the vast majority of their magical powers with each generation spent without the Moonfly’s direct genes.”

“So it could go either way, then,” Axel grunted, lightly tapping the incubator. The grub within seemed to wiggle happily at his attention. “You better not grow to be a disappointment. I already made one mistake today with the ring. Remember, I can still eat you.”

The purple grub squirmed fearfully and blew out a tiny bubble, as if in apology.

Axel felt bad immediately.

“What a horrible thing to say to a child,” Lune sighed. 

“Positively atrocious behaviour,” Ymir agreed.

“Wait, it can understand my words already?” Axel asked ludicrously. “It was born literally minutes ago!”

“It is a Child of an old Fae Goddess. We have no idea how intelligent it is or what latent magic it might possess,” Lune theorised. “It also might just be the System’s interference, translating your words. Either way, stop being so mean. You are supposed to nurture it and have it imprint on you with a good impression. Otherwise, you are the one that is getting eaten when it grows to a full-blown Dragon.”

“Point taken,” Axel said regretfully. “Sorry, little guy.”

The grub wiggled before returning to its meal of dead magical vegetation.

Axel hooked the incubator to his waist. “Now then, this ring…”

He lifted the ‘Ring of the Immutable Star’ to eye level. The object was heavy — unnaturally so — and it emitted a faint warmth and glow.

A Rank-C item, and an Exotic one at that. There was certainly power to its frame, but…

The effects did not necessarily reflect that. Oh, Axel wasn’t an idiot. He could see how the ring could come in handy. If he were to employ a little creativity, he might even find use for it beyond its intended function.

Though if he were given the choice once more, it was more likely he would have simply picked a more helpful item, or just ingested all 4 of the Fae Royal Blood to boost his skill stats.

“No point crying over spilt milk,” Axel murmured. “How much longer do we have to linger for?”

“The Zone lockdown will be lifting soon,” Ymir said. “The Quarantine was in effect for four hours, so it should open in one.”

“That’s oddly specific. It requires an entire quarter of the time it was locked before it could open?” Axel asked.

“It’s hardly the same as opening and closing the door,” Lune explained. “Zone Quarantine need to have several measures in place to prevent one from leaving it. The longer those measures stay, the harder they are to remove. We should be thankful ours is only an hour. Some Zones have been locked up for so long that even after decades of the Quarantine lift announcement, they are still in the process of unravelling.”

It had been approximately 30 minutes since their duel ended. That meant another half hour of idle talk.

Axel noticed he had not received his Quest Completion rewards yet. Perhaps those would come in once the Zone Quarantine was lifted.

The three of them sat around, discussing possible future plans with an amicable air. Ymir and Lune were willing to fill in Axel’s gaps in knowledge, both regarding the Hub and the Great Game.

Another 5 minutes passed. Then 10. And then…

Ymir stiffened. “Do you… Feel that?”

Lune cut off her words short, sensing the abrupt shift in the Giant’s tension. Axel similarly straightened to full alert, looking around.

He felt nothing. But then, at the edge of the ravine, he thought he saw the floor… shimmering?

No, not shimmer. Reflecting. The morning light was glimmering off it. A pale coat of white had replaced the ground. Visibility was falling, as if a haze had suddenly settled.

Is that… Frost? Axel frowned. Ice and mist were wafting in seemingly from nowhere at the mouth of the valley.

And it was creeping faster and faster in.

Lune shot to her feet. “This is… No, it can’t be. The Quarantine is still in effect, there’s no way—!”

Before she could finish, the space within the ravine tore and screamed.

The mist roared and exploded forth towards them. Axel was nearly knocked off his feet. He fell to one knee, golden halberd already summoned in hand as he impaled it into the ground for support.

Ymir was already driven down, his hand outstretched as he summoned a powerful counter-gale to protect himself and Lune.

Axel felt a painful chill biting his skin. He glanced down against the wind, ignoring the searing pain in his eyes.

Ice was beginning to form around limbs.

[Warning! Health below 40%!]

“Axel! Hold on!” He heard Lune shout against the howling wind. A second later, he saw something tossed his way.

The object impacted the ground before him and detonated in a brilliant flash of light. A welcome heat washed over him as the fiery explosion produced a brief burst of fire before the freezing winds killed it.

It was enough, however. The frost on Axel melted away. Another fire bottle exploded close to him, warming enough to endure the killing frost with gritted teeth and darkening vision.

[Warning! Health below 30%!]

[Warning! Frost-Terror Effect is now active!]

And then, as suddenly as the winds arrived…

Silence.

The wind abruptly stopped — not in a way that was remote naturally as it died, but as if the world had choked its breath entirely. The change was so swift and impossible that Axel’s senses were left dazed.

The killing gales were gone, but the cold remained.

A freezing mist of ice-blue pale was flooding from everywhere. It rolled down the cliffs like a white sapphire fog — thick, unnatural, crawling into bones. The stone groaned and cracked beneath a thin layer of ice that hadn’t been there a heartbeat ago. The morning sky was obscured under sudden storm clouds, crackling with faint lightning as veins of sickly blue tore through the darkness above with the colour of old bruises.

Axel’s fingers were numb. He could barely hold his halberd. The cold had seeped into his flesh, and his teeth would not stop chattering. 

Damnation, it’s like I’m back on the Northern Front again.

The silver rime was present everywhere; it slithered over the stones, creeping through cracks, curling around roots, devouring warmth as it went. Air droplets froze mid-fall and landed as hail. The stream of river water at the far end of the ravine’s base hissed, then turned to glass.

Axel tried to speak. “What in God’s fucking name—”

Then came the sound.

A horn. Low. Hollow. Like a howl blown in the heart of a tomb, it once heralded the end of distant worlds. The echoes of some long-extinct God Beast rolled across the canyon walls, shaking the marrow within bones. 

The fabric of the world split. A wound of jagged light and a distant rumble too steady for thunder followed. Reality was tearing, and it was not a gentle thing. Whatever was on the other side was forcing its way through, as if they were not supposed to be there.

Axel saw a blade, curling smoke like a burning grave, emerging from nothingness and cutting down a thick and growing rupture in the space.

From that gash of shimmering black, obscured by ice and mist, the nightmare horde emerged. 

[WARNING! HIGH LEVEL THREAT DETECTED]

[‘The Mourning March of the Wild Hunt’ Encountered!]

[System Error! System Error!]

First came the steeds — dead-eyed monsters and frost-bound beasts, each nearly as tall as Axel’s two metres — their hooves trailing dark ice, their misty manes woven from the light of dead moons and old shadows. 

[Warning!]

[Level 28 ‘Undead Gallowsborne Mares’ Encountered!]

Then the riders atop them: more than a dozen of them, clad in black iron etched with spectral runes, their forms shimmering in half-corporeal states and their eyes burning with eldritch malice beneath helms that looked carved from bone.

[Warning!]

[Level 32 ‘Knights of the Final Hoarfrost’! Encountered!]

And finally, at the head of this procession — towering, motionless — was a God King.

It could not be called a person. The figure at the front of the spectral host was greater than even the black armoured terrors that surrounded him. He was larger, not simply by height alone, but by sheer pressure — the space around him was breaking, as if the world was struggling to deny his existence. His mount was abnormal even amidst its terrifying peers; an eight-legged horse-thing of silver bone and black frost, even larger than the rest, steaming mist from its gill-stuffed neck like a forge in winter, eyes white and dead.

The King was armoured in onyx. Ice clung to the edges of his cloak, yet it did not weigh him down. Crowned in a skull helm of twisted antlers, eyes blazing sapphire in the gloom, the grinning bone-metal mask of some forgotten forest god stared ahead…

Directly at Axel.

[WARNING! FAE MONARCH ENCOUNTERED]

[Lv 76 ‘King of the Wild Hunt’][Title: ‘The Silent Gallow King’, ‘The Stagborn Rider’, ‘The Lord of the Lost Roads’]

[Warning! Tyrant Entity!]

[SYSTEM ERROR]

[SYSTEm ErrOR]

[ILLEgal EntRY into Q-Q-QuaranTINE ZONE, EXPELLINGzzzz—]

[...]

[Admin override temporarily accepted.]

[Intruding Guild ‘Wild Hunt’ allowed into Zone while still under Quarantine]

[No other movement in or out of the Zone allowed until Quarantine expires]

[Time remaining: 13 minutes 47 seconds.]

“It will be enough,” the King whispered, the mist howling his words.

Cold-burning lanterns gaze beyond the dark slits of the King’s helm. There was no rage, no violence, not even hate.

Only the calm certainty that the prey before him would be dead before the timer runs out.

His blade was already drawn, dark frost snaking along the edge. The King of the Wild Hunt raised his greatsword — black iron wrought of ancient magic — and pointed across the ravine.

“Kill them all.”

Time resumed. The riders surged forward like the killing wave of winter. The ravine shook under the weight of their charge. Ice bloomed where their steeds touched stone. Screams rose and were swallowed.

The Hunt had begun. And Axel knew, without even the slightest tinge of doubt…

He would be dead before the hour’s end.