Chapter 94 (Part 2): The Frozen Trial
Footsteps in the Storm
The wind howled like a chorus of damned souls. Without the Venomspinner Queen, the party trudged across the glacier on foot, their progress reduced to a crawl. Bennett's legs burned with every step, the ice beneath them slick and treacherous. So much for magic solving everything, he thought bitterly, watching the druid's hunched figure struggle to maintain the shrinking barrier.
The old mage's wand trembled in his gnarled hand, its translucent crystal flickering like a dying star. A dome of faint silver light barely shielded them from the razor-edged gales that scoured the ice plains.
"Closer!" the druid barked, his voice fraying. "The barrier weakens!"
They huddled like frightened sheep, shoulders pressed together. Even Medusa, her serpentine crown drooping, had lost her venomous wit.
Ropes and Resolve
Bennett's frostbitten fingers fumbled with the rope binding them. "Tie tighter!" he shouted over the storm. "If someone falls into a crevasse, we're all dead!"
Hussein, leading the line, drove his sword into the ice as an anchor. "Move!" The knight's breath crystallized in the air, his face a mask of grim endurance.
For two days, they inched forward. Nights were worse—a cacophony of screaming winds and cold so deep it gnawed at bone. Bennett's teeth chattered uncontrollably until Hussein, wordless, wrapped him in his cloak. The knight's blazing aura of holy energy seeped into Bennett's veins, a fleeting warmth that stung more than comforted. Charity from a zealot. How far I've fallen.
Breaking Point
On the fourth day, the druid collapsed.
His wand clattered to the ice, the barrier sputtering. "I… can't…" The old man's lips blue, veins bulging black beneath papery skin.
Bennett snatched the wand. "What do I do?!"
"Channel your magic! Now!"
The moment Bennett gripped the artifact, agony seared his nerves. The wand drank—a ravenous void sucking his mana dry. His vision swam, knees buckling.
"Pathetic," Medusa hissed, though even she swayed unsteadily.
Gewu the mouse squeaked from Bennett's collar, "Let me!" The rodent's tiny paws glowed as it seized the wand. To everyone's shock, the barrier stabilized.
"How?!" Bennett gasped.
"Efficiency, boy!" Gewu chittered. "Magic isn't brute force—it's a dance!"
Lessons in the Gale
Bennett watched, humbled, as the transformed mage manipulated flows he'd never perceived. Gewu timed his spells to the storm's rhythm—pushing when the winds ebbed, retreating when they surged.
"Your turn." The mouse shoved the wand back after an hour.
This time, Bennett focused not on power, but patterns. His demonic horns flared crimson, attuning him to the storm's hidden cadence.
Breakthrough Moments:
Mana Conservation: By syncing with natural energy ebbs, Bennett sustains the barrier 30% longer.
Medusa's Reluctant Respect: "Perhaps you're not entirely useless," she admits, shielding him from a rogue ice shard.
Hussein's Silent Approval: The knight shifts position to block crosswinds battering Bennett.
The Wall of the World
Dawn on the sixth day revealed madness.
Tornadoes of crystalline ice spiraled skyward, each a writhing pillar of destruction. The barrier now barely covered their huddled forms, the druid's wand dimmed to a sickly gray.
"Almost… there…" The old mage pointed ahead.
Bennett squinted. A mountain clawed at the heavens—five jagged peaks like giant's fingers.
Final Push:
Collapsing Barrier: Hussein carries the druid while Bennett and Gewu fuse their magic.
Sacrificial Gambit: Medusa reluctantly expels stored venom to melt an ice wall blocking their path.
Last Steps: Crawling on hands and knees as the wand's crystal cracks.
Silence
They crossed the threshold at dusk.
One moment—deafening fury. The next—absolute stillness.
Bennett faceplanted into powdery snow. "It's… earth!" He laughed hysterically, digging fingers into frozen soil. "Real fucking dirt!"
The druid wept openly. "We've passed the Wall. The Forgotten Ice… behind us…"
Hussein knelt, tracing a gauntlet over grass blades preserved in permafrost. "Where are we?"
Medusa answered, her voice trembling with rare awe. "Where gods drew the line."
The Guardians' Roar
The mountain loomed closer now. Its slopes gleamed obsidian-black, veined with gold.
A roar split the sky.
Not a sound—a presence. Primal. Inescapable. Bennett's bones vibrated as five colossal shapes soared above the peaks. Wings blotted out the sun.
"Dragons…" The druid whispered. "The last wardens of the mortal realm."
Hussein's sword glowed with holy fury. "They'll attack."
"No." The old mage gripped his arm. "They'll test."
Cliffhanger Revelations:
Dragon Lore: These ancient beings predate even the Vatican, tasked by vanished deities to guard dimensional thresholds.
Bennett's Mark: His demonic horns react violently to the dragons' aura—a secret tied to Aragorn's pact with hellspawn.
Medusa's Hidden Fear: She freezes utterly at the dragons' cry, murmuring, "They remember…"
Epiphany on the Peak
As the dragons descended, Bennett's mind raced.
Why us? Why now?
The answer struck like lightning.
"You knew!" He wheeled on the druid. "This mountain—it's not just some 'ancient site.' It's a door! And these dragons… they're not guarding us from the north…"
The old man met his gaze, exhausted but resolute.
"They're guarding the north… from us."
Above, the lead dragon opened its maw. Not fire—but words in a language older than sin poured forth.
"State your purpose, shard of chaos."
The ground shook. The druid collapsed. Medusa hissed. Hussein raised his blade.
And Bennett, heart pounding, stepped forward.
Time to lie like your life depends on it.
"We're here," he declared, "to end the world."
The dragons stilled.
Then laughed.
Chapter 95: The Iron Covenant
Threshold of the Divine
The mountain loomed like a blade forged by gods—its obsidian-black slopes veined with gold, its peaks clawing at the heavens. This was the barrier between worlds, guarded by creatures older than kingdoms. Bennett's breath hitched as the druid unfurled a tattered banner, its fabric shimmering faintly with runes that pulsed like living embers.
"Stay close," the old mage warned, his voice trembling with reverence. "One misstep, and the dragons will reduce us to ash."
Above, the sky darkened. Ten shadows descended—winged leviathans whose roars shook the earth. The lead dragon, a colossal obsidian beast, landed with a thunderous crack, its sulfurous breath reeking of ancient fire. Bennett gagged, clutching his cloak to his face. Gods, even its breath could kill us.
The Pact of Steel and Flame
The druid raised the banner high, its faded symbols glowing under the dragon's scrutiny. "We come under the Iron Covenant!" he shouted. "By the accord struck between Aragorn and your forebears!"
The black dragon's slit-pupiled eyes narrowed. "Humans," it rumbled, the word dripping with disdain. "Your kind pollutes the air." Its nostrils flared, sniffing the party with a mix of curiosity and disgust. "The pact… remains. Pass. But tread no further north. The realms beyond are not for mortal eyes."
As the dragons withdrew, their wingbeats churning the snow into a blizzard, Bennett stared at the banner. "What is that thing?"
The druid's smile was grim. "Aragorn's blood oath—written in dragonfire and steel. The only reason we're not already cinders."
The Mountain of Forgotten Wars
The climb began at dawn.
Up close, the mountain's true nature revealed itself—a monolithic mass of near-pure iron, its surface scarred with ancient gouges. Hussein dragged a gauntlet along the cliff face, sparks flying. "This is no natural formation," he muttered. "It's a fortress."
"Aragorn's masterpiece," the druid panted, pausing to catch his breath. "Centuries ago, when the dragons refused him passage, he carved this path himself. One man. One sword. One year."
Bennett traced a jagged fissure in the iron. The edges were too precise, too angry—like the strikes of a mad god. "He cut through solid metal? With a blade?"
"Not just any blade." The druid's eyes glazed with fanaticism. "The Sword of Dawn—a weapon forged in the heart of a dying star. Even so…" He gestured at the endless switchbacks. "Imagine the will required. The dragons watched, hurling boulders and flames. He never faltered."
Echoes of a King
As they ascended, the past bled into the present.
Key Moments:
Dragons' Wrath: The higher they climb, the more frequent the aerial assaults. Fireballs rain down, forcing the party to press against the cliff. Medusa nearly plummets when a boulder shears off part of the path.
Hussein's Epiphany: The knight pauses at a particularly deep gouge, fingers brushing a half-melted section. "He channeled holy fire into his strikes," he whispers. "Fusing raw divinity with steel."
Bennett's Revelation: A faded handprint—Aragorn's?—embedded in the iron. When Bennett touches it, visions flood his mind: a man screaming into the storm, his sword glowing white-hot, each strike ringing like a cathedral bell.
The Price of Arrogance
Near sunset, the druid collapsed against the cliff. "We rest here," he wheezed, uncorking a vial of murky liquid. "The final ascent begins at first light."
Bennett sat beside him, staring northward. "What's out there? Beyond the barrier?"
The old man's silence stretched until even the howling wind felt loud. "Aragorn asked the same question," he finally said. "The dragons showed him. It broke his mind for a year. When he returned, he carved these words into the summit—"
He pointed upward. Etched into the iron, twenty meters tall, was a single phrase in the dragon-tongue:
"WE ARE NOT ALONE."
Ambush at Dusk
The attack came without warning.
A juvenile dragon—copper-scaled and reckless—dove from the clouds, talons outstretched. Hussein barely parried the strike, his boots skidding toward the abyss. "Run!" he roared.
Chaos erupted:
Medusa's Fury: She unleashes a petrifying glare, but the dragon shields its eyes with a wing.
Gewu's Gambit: The mouse-mage leaps onto the beast's snout, detonating a flashbang spell that buys precious seconds.
Bennett's Desperation: Channeling forbidden demonic energy, he slams the dragon's claw with a surge of black lightning. The creature recoils, howling.
The druid's voice cut through the madness. "Enough!" He thrust the banner into the air, its runes blazing crimson. "By the Covenant, cease!"
The copper dragon froze mid-strike. From above, an earsplitting roar—the obsidian patriarch descending like judgment incarnate.
The Law of Blood
The elder dragon's tail snapped out, hurling its offspring into the mountainside. "You shame us," it thundered. "The Covenant is sacred." Turning to the humans, its voice softened—a grudging respect. "Your persistence honors Aragorn's memory. Proceed. But know this: what awaits above will demand more than strength. It will devour your certainty."
As it flew off, the druid crumpled. "We're close," he whispered. "So close…"
The Summit's Secret
Dawn revealed the truth.
The path ended at a circular platform—Aragorn's final stroke. At its center stood a pedestal holding a single object: a crown of blackened iron, its spikes twisted into runic sigils.
"Behold," the druid wept. "The Diadem of the Worldbreaker. Aragorn's failsafe… and our doom."
Bennett reached for it—then froze. The northern horizon yawned open, revealing not sky, but an endless void speckled with alien stars. Shapes moved there: colossal, geometric, hungry.
Hussein fell to his knees, retching. Medusa hissed, scales molting in terror. Even Gewu trembled. "They've seen us," the mouse whimpered. "They know we're here."
The druid lifted the crown. "Aragorn's last warning: the barrier weakens. The Realms Beyond stir. And we… we must choose. Wear this, Bennett. Become the vessel. Or let humanity perish ignorant."
The void pulsed. Something shifted.
In the distance, dragons began to die.