Night fell.
The two groups slept separately within the ice cellar.
The Vichy tribe's bedding was made from a special kind of fur. Not only was it warm, but it also insulated against the chill rising from the ice beneath. With a single layer spread over the frozen floor, one felt no trace of cold at all.
Pasfield had wrapped himself tightly in one of the furs and was sleeping soundly.
Ur did not need such measures. Reclining casually on the bed, the dragonhide cloak draped over him provided far greater warmth than the tribe's pelts ever could.
Tap.
A faint footstep echoed through the darkness.
Ur's closed eyes snapped open instantly.
They were still sharing the cellar with Delina's group. Though he didn't think a midnight ambush was likely, caution in a place like this never hurt.
Could that woman really be foolish enough to try something? The thought flickered through his mind, only to vanish just as quickly.
The footsteps weren't heading toward him. They were moving toward Delina's side.
"Who's there?!" A sharp shout shattered the silence. A beam of green light flared in the darkness—magic.
The hired mage's cry woke most of the cellar.
Well, everyone except Pasfield.
Perhaps Ur's presence gave him too much peace of mind. The man was sleeping even more soundly than he did on the ship. Ur shot him an exasperated look and reached over to shake him awake.
Pasfield blinked groggily, about to mumble "What is it?" But one glance at the scene before him shocked him upright, as though someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over his head.
"Holy hell, what kind of monster is that?!"
Under the magical glow, the source of the footsteps was revealed. It was unmistakably a Vichy warrior, but something was terribly wrong.
Crimson eyes. Jagged fangs. A face black as ink, scaled and twisted. Veins bulge grotesquely. Hands warped into claws that barely resembled human limbs. Aside from the fur clothing it wore, scarcely anything about it resembled a Vichy tribesman anymore.
Everyone stared. Even Ur felt a chill.
The creature radiated thick, suffocating darkness, an aura so wicked it felt as though something had crawled straight out of the abyss.
"ROOOAAR!!"
Though discovered, the transformed Vichy did not retreat. Instead, it let out an inhuman bellow, saliva dripping from its fangs as it lunged straight toward Delina.
Anrika, the green-haired mage, reacted instantly. She raised her hand and unleashed a spell. A brilliant emerald magic circle flared on the ground. Thick vines burst forth, coiling around the creature and binding it tightly in place.
Seeing it restrained, Delina exhaled quietly. She turned toward Pasfield. "Perhaps we should ask Kakatu for an explanation. Don't you agree, Pasfield?"
"You're right," Pasfield nodded, recovering his composure. The sight had startled him, but he'd seen enough in his life not to lose his head over it.
Glancing at the monstrous Vichy, he added grimly, "I believe a conversation with Mr. Kakatu is in order."
The situation was too bizarre. No one present, not even Delina, believed this was Kakatu's doing. The old fox was far too shrewd to stage something so reckless.
Pasfield and Delina rose, intending to seek answers.
But the moment they moved, the restrained creature exploded into motion. Black, flame-like energy poured from its body. In an instant, the vines binding it burned away, turning to black ash.
Anrika's heart skipped. The creature lunged again, faster than before. In the blink of an eye, it was upon her.
Crack.
Before it could strike, it froze solid, transformed into a block of ice mid-leap.
Beside Anrika stood Haisha, one hand extended, a blue-silver magic circle gleaming before her. Frost curled from her body like mist.
"Whew…" Anrika let out a breath. "Thanks, Haisha."
"Don't ment—"
Crack.
A faint sound cut her off. Hairline fractures spread across the ice.
Haisha's eyes widened in disbelief as the cracks multiplied until, with an explosion, the entire block shattered.
"How is that possible?" she gasped. She knew the strength of her spell. This creature shouldn't have been able to break free.
"Magic, Thorn Bind!"
Even as Haisha stared in shock, Anrika had already cast again. This time, her spell was far more powerful. A massive emerald magic circle blazed to life. Thick, dark-green brambles, each as thick as a grown man's arm and covered in vicious barbs, shot outward, wrapping the creature completely.
Ur noticed something else. A violet liquid slowly seeped from the thorns' barbs, flowing into the creature's body.
Poison.
It didn't seem to matter.
The creature struggled even more violently. Black flames erupted across its body. With a rushing sound, the brambles corroded and snapped apart as if eaten by acid.
Anrika's face drained of color.
What is this thing?
Binding failed. Freezing failed. Poison failed.
This was no longer something human.
Delina saw it too, and unease tightened her chest.
"Haisha," she ordered sharply, "don't hesitate. Kill it." A flash of cold resolve flickered in Haisha's eyes.
In the next second, a freezing magic circle materialized between her hands. One after another, razor-sharp arrows of ice condensed in the air before her.
❖≔﴾═══════ﺤ
Next Chapter: The Sacred Artifact
Next Next Chapter: Execution
Next Next Next Chapter: The Summit