Volume 2, Chapter 40: The Frozen Wastes
Who buys grilled fish at six in the morning?
I flipped the wooden skewers over the hot coals, watching the skin blister and turn a perfect, crispy gold. The smell of cumin, chili powder, and river fish cut through the morning fog of the capital's transit district.
Travel wasn't cheap. The Federation subsidized a lot of things, but a one-way, unlogged ticket to the absolute edge of the northern border required hard currency. I had spent my last few silver coins on a bucket of fresh river fish and a bag of spices. I knew how to cook. It was a survival skill I'd learned long before I ever heard the word "Resonance."
"Two, please."
A man stopped in front of the small cart. He was tall, with blond hair tied back and a calm, almost impossibly still presence. He wore simple traveling clothes, but his hands were perfectly clean, uncalloused, and steady. He looked at the fish on the grill with intense focus.
I handed him two skewers wrapped in a large leaf.
The blond man took a bite. He closed his eyes, chewing slowly. He didn't just taste the food; he seemed to analyze it, breaking down the heat of the coal, the ratio of the spices, and the timing of the flip.
"The cumin is rough, but the heat control is flawless," the man said softly. "You cook with intent. That's rare."
He placed a single, heavy gold coin on the cart and walked away, disappearing into the morning crowd. I stared at the coin. I didn't know who that was, but the man felt… heavy. Like a quiet mountain.
"Keep the change, kid."
Professor Lakas leaned against the brick wall of the station, holding a paper cup of black coffee. He looked tired. His tie was loose, and he had dark circles under his eyes. To everyone else in the city, he was just a brilliant, overworked instructor from the Academy's Origin Branch.
Only I and the old ghost in my head knew that the man leaning against the wall was the reason the sun came up every morning.
"You're late for your train," Professor Lakas said, taking a sip of his coffee.
"I needed the cash," I replied, wiping my hands on a rag and packing up the grill. "The North isn't exactly a tourist spot. I might need to bribe a border guard."
Lakas chuckled, a dry, raspy sound. He stepped closer, dropping his voice. "You ready for this? The Ice Devil Titan isn't a pet. Ah Tai is a two-hundred-thousand-year-old disaster. He only respects violence and survival."
"I'll survive."
"Good. Turn around."
I turned my back. I felt the professor's thumb press against the base of my neck, right above my spine. A sudden, sharp heat flared into my skin.
"I'm putting a lock on the door," Lakas muttered. His finger traced a glowing, golden symbol into my flesh. It was the Baybayin character ᜆ (Ta).
"Tatag," Lakas explained, his voice vibrating slightly with a hidden weight. "It means Fortitude. Stability. That Seed Chen Feng left in your head is going to try to put you to sleep when the cold hits. This marking won't destroy it — I can't do that without burning your brain — but it will act as a cage. It will hold the silence back."
The golden light faded, leaving a faint, warm tingling sensation on my neck. Instantly, the dull ache inside my mind retreated, locked behind a heavy mental door.
"Thank you, Professor," I said.
"Don't thank me. Just don't die. My paperwork is bad enough this week." Lakas waved a hand dismissively and walked back toward the Academy, blending perfectly into the crowd of morning commuters.
•••••••
Six hours later, the world was gone.
The Phoenix-Rail train shuddered and groaned to a halt. The amber Crystalline lamps inside the carriage flickered, dimmed, and died.
"End of the line," a mechanical voice crackled over the intercom, sounding distorted. "Extreme weather protocols active. Disembark immediately."
I pulled my heavy winter coat tight and forced the train doors open.
The cold didn't just bite. It punched me in the chest. The air was so dry and freezing that my first breath felt like swallowing crushed glass. There was no city here. No paved roads. Just a small, frost-covered transit platform and a wall of blinding white snow stretching out into infinity.
I tapped the communication pad on my wrist. The screen flashed once, a pale blue, and then went completely black. The cold was so absolute that it actually froze the movement of energy inside the Crystalline circuits. Technology was dead out here.
I stepped off the platform. My boots sank deep into the snow.
"This is an ancient place," Electrolux's voice echoed in my mind. The necromancer sounded entirely awake now, invigorated by the harshness of the environment. "The ambient soul power here is sluggish. It does not flow like a river; it creeps like a glacier. You will have trouble using your skills."
"I can tell," I muttered through chattering teeth.
I tried to summon the Spirit Eyes. The familiar golden hum tried to flare to life, but it sputtered. The energy in my meridians felt thick, like molasses. I managed to get my Third Eye open just enough to see heat signatures, but the range was terrible — barely fifty yards.
I started walking north. Ah Tai was deep in the core of this wasteland. I had a long way to go.
I walked for three hours. Every step was a negotiation with the ice.
The Seed of Grey Decay tried to act up. The extreme cold made my heartbeat slow down, and the Seed loved the silence. It pushed against my skull, trying to drag me into a permanent sleep. But every time my eyes started to droop, the Baybayin ᜆ on my neck flared with a sharp, localized heat, snapping me awake.
Lakas's marking was holding. But my body was struggling.
I stopped near a jagged outcropping of blue ice to catch my breath. The wind was howling, a constant, deafening roar that masked all other sounds.
That was why I almost didn't notice the shadows moving in the snow.
Through the narrow vision of my sluggish Spirit Eyes, I saw three pale blue heat signatures circling me. They blended perfectly with the blizzard.
Frost-Mane Wolves.
These weren't the domesticated, contracted beasts from the Federation's reserves. These were wild, starving predators that lived on the edge of the world. They were only thousand-year beasts, but in this environment, they had home-field advantage.
A wolf lunged from the whiteout. It was massive, its fur coated in razor-sharp icicles.
I didn't try to use a soul skill. I couldn't. The cold had essentially locked my Crystalline Vessel down to a crawl. I had to rely on the mechanics of my own bones.
I shifted my weight into a deep, grounded stance. Panununtukan.
The wolf's jaws snapped at my throat. I didn't back away. I stepped into the attack. I raised my left forearm, catching the wolf's jaw on the thickest part of my winter sleeve, letting the teeth graze my skin.
At the same time, my right hand shot out. Gunting. I didn't punch the wolf's face. I aimed for the joint. I drove my knuckles like a hammer straight into the wolf's extended front shoulder joint. The force of the beast's own lunge met the solid mass of my strike.
A loud, wet CRACK! echoed over the wind.
The wolf yelped, its momentum collapsing as its leg gave out. It crashed into the snow.
But there were two more.
The second wolf came from my blind spot, tackling me at the waist. I hit the frozen ground hard. The impact knocked the wind out of me, and the cold of the ice seeped instantly through my coat. The wolf's icy claws tore at my jacket, searching for flesh.
"Breathe, child!" Electrolux barked.
I ignored the panic. I didn't try to wrestle the beast. I brought my knee up sharply into the wolf's stomach, creating an inch of space. I grabbed the thick fur on the side of the wolf's neck with my left hand, pulling it off balance.
With my right elbow, I delivered a brutal, downward strike to the base of the wolf's skull. Once. Twice. The animal went limp, sliding off me.
The third wolf hesitated. It looked at its two fallen pack members, then at the boy slowly standing up from the snow. My knuckles were bleeding, and my breath was pluming in thick white clouds, but my eyes were hard.
The wolf bared its teeth, took a step back, and melted away into the blizzard.
I stood alone in the storm, chest heaving.
The adrenaline began to fade, and the cold immediately rushed back in to fill the void. My hands were shaking violently. The blood on my knuckles was already freezing into dark red crusts.
I looked down at the dead wolves. In the old days, a Soul Master would sit down and absorb their rings. But I didn't need rings. And these beasts hadn't offered a Seed. They were just casualties of the wild.
"I can't fight my way through the whole continent like this," I said, my voice barely a whisper over the wind.
"You will not have to," Electrolux replied softly. "Ah Tai is the undisputed lord of this wasteland. The closer we get to his territory, the fewer wild beasts will dare to roam. They fear his shadow."
"Which way?"
"Follow the deepest cold. The Ice Devil Titan does not just live in the ice. He is the ice."
I nodded. I touched the back of my neck, feeling the faint warmth of the Baybayin marking. I was a Level 19 kid with a locked-up martial soul, wandering into the domain of a legend. It was insane.
But the world was broken, and I was the only one who could see the cracks.
I pulled my collar up, turned my face into the biting wind, and kept walking north.
End of Volume 2, Chapter 40