Gallan, chieftain of the Frost Giants, was a cautious being.
And that was exactly why he stood at the top.
His strength alone was overwhelming—power and abilities that rivaled even an adult dragon, a level few could ever hope to reach.
But strength wasn't what made him a leader.
It was this.
The way he thought.
The way he moved.
Always measured. Always aware.
"…So this is what freedom feels like…"
His voice came out low as he stepped through the dungeon's massive portal.
For a moment—
He stopped.
The cold wind brushed against him, different from the stagnant chill within the dungeon. It moved. It shifted. It felt… alive.
He had stepped outside before.
Under the Frost Queen's orders.
Sent out like a weapon.
Like a tool.
But this—
This was different.
This time, he walked out on his own will.
No command.
No leash.
No invisible force pulling him back.
"…."
His eyes lowered slightly.
There was nothing.
No pressure.
No weight pressing against his existence.
