She walked on toward the castle with the red lights. The Cursed and the squad followed her.
A glow appeared between the trees. Blue inscriptions in unknown symbols flashed in the air.
The Spellcaster immediately flung his book open and began writing spells in it intensely, but it was already too late.
Walls of an unknown building appeared around them.
They found themselves in a gloomy place that was either a cave or a grotto. In the center, on a stone platform, lay a man with skin turned blue from the cold. The same symbols that had appeared in the forest were written on his body. He opened his eyes. Black darkness floated in them.
"Kill me," the stranger rasped.
They headed into the next room. Other frozen people were there. An unknown force was pressing them against the walls, leaving them hanging several feet above the floor. Their bodies were also covered with unfamiliar blue symbols. Similar symbols were drawn on the icy walls. The blue lips of the suspended people were rasping the same terrible words:
"Kill me."
"This is the Ice Castle of the Prince of Cold, the Inscriber of Ice Formulas," said the Ice Queen. "He created it to worship and offer human sacrifices to the Great Cold. Somewhere here is a staircase that leads to the upper room where the Prince of Cold dwells and seeks our deaths."
Apparently, the Reaper was the first to succumb to the terrible atmosphere that was consuming their minds. With his long scythe, he struck the first blow in this abode and severed the head of one of the frozen victims hanging on the wall. When her head fell and bounced across the frozen icy floor, numerous wild screams rang out from the deep darkness of the rooms. From there, fully armored figures armed with iron clubs and short spears flew out in a dense stream and attacked the newcomers.
The tall Reaper was standing in the corridor and single-handedly held back the streams of enemies with his terrifying massive scythe. His eyes were gleaming, while the gruesome instrument of punishment was spinning in his long hands, creating a merciless slaughterhouse that was tirelessly reducing countless armored warriors to flying pieces of flesh, armor, and bones.
The rest of the squad stood behind him, weapons and magic at the ready.
"Use your sorcery," said the Cursed to the Ice Queen.
"Ranged attacks are useless here," she replied. "Their energy will be absorbed by the magical symbols on the walls of the fortress. Only the Spellcaster from your squad or close combat will decide everything."
The Cursed raised the Frost Sword to fire bolts of lightning at the enemies, but the Ice Queen's hand stopped him.
"I told you—ranged attacks will not help here."
Meanwhile, the Spellcaster was drawing magical symbols in his book with a long fingernail.
The Reaper and the squad were gradually retreating under the pressure of the enemies. The symbols in the Spellcaster's book flashed with light. In response, the symbols on the walls flashed as well. One of the distant walls parted to the sides. Behind it was a chamber with a wide staircase leading upward.
"The staircase to the Prince of Cold's chamber," said the Ice Queen.
"We're going up," commanded the Cursed.
The squad began moving upward, step by step, holding back the advancing creatures with the tips of their swords and magic, while the Reaper continued to hold them back and grind them down in the wheel of bloody death with his huge, terrifying scythe.
When he stepped onto the first stair, the figures in iron armor stopped and ceased attacking him.
They were climbing higher up the staircase. At first, everything around them was dark. Then large windows began appearing in the walls around them, behind which frozen people were hanging by their necks from ropes. They were staring intently at the passing squad and were rasping:
"Kill us."
Then their hands were reaching through the windows, unnaturally lengthening and grabbing the warriors. They were trying to pull them outside and throw them down into the impenetrable, swirling darkness below.
They were hacking at the limbs and moving onward.
"Don't look into the windows!" shouted the Ice Queen. "You may see the Lord of the Cursed Continent in them. If you meet his mad gaze, you will go insane, and your head will explode from unbearable horror."
But it was too late.
The tall, horned Reaper stopped on the stairs. Everyone turned their attention to him. He was staring intently at something through a window.
The Cursed took a step toward him, but the Ice Queen stopped him with her hand. She shook her head.
"It's useless. He is finished."
Moments later, the Reaper bared his fangs and screamed, clutching his head with both hands. His long scythe flew down into the terrible darkness from which they had come. No one knew what he saw there, on the other side of the planet. Because no one who saw it could survive. Streams of blood poured from his eyes, nostrils, and mouth. Then a bloody explosion erupted above his shoulders, and his headless body crashed downward, following the scythe that had flown down earlier.
The staircase led them into a large hall. There were no windows. Blue symbols and life-sized portraits covered the walls. Their canvases were black and empty. There was no one in the hall.
"I can feel his presence," the Ice Queen said.
"Then where is he?" asked the Cursed.
"He is hiding behind the magical symbols on the walls."
Meanwhile, the Spellcaster began his work. He opened his book and was drawing new symbols on its pages with a long fingernail. They were flashing several times. In response, the blue magical symbols on the walls lit up. They did not simply light up—the hot flame ran along them, melting the walls. And then a loud scream of inhuman pain rang out through the large hall.
A large blue figure flew out of the wall, its eyes glowing red, and hovered high above them beneath the ceiling. Its glowing red eyes stared down at them with hatred. They heard the low rumble of speech being spoken in an unknown language, making their blood run cold, and after that, numerous sharp ice spears came crashing down from above in a deadly, mutated hail.
The Frost Wail created streams of icy wind that blew some of the projectiles aside. The others slammed into an invisible dome that appeared above the squad and exploded into fragments. The Cursed realized that these were shields activated by the Ice Queen. And they protected the squad from the deadly strikes.
A large shadow with glowing red eyes blew forward, and the space of the large hall filled with a cold cloud. It surrounded the squad with an impenetrable wall and danced around the protection, waiting for its moment and turning the temperature around them into an icy nightmare in which nothing living could survive.
The Ice Queen fired magic, and the Cursed struck with bolts of lightning from the Frost Sword. But they seemed to pass straight through the figure hanging beneath the ceiling.
The Spellcaster was drawing symbols of a new level of power in his book. The blue symbols of the large hall detached themselves from the walls and surrounded the large figure. As if confused, it shifted the gaze of its glowing red eyes toward them. They instantly pierced into it, gnawing straight through it, and then another horrible scream split the space.
The Prince of Cold descended to the floor, devoured by the magical symbols. He raised his hand and pointed his index finger with a long blue fingernail at the Spellcaster, and uttered a curse in a low, hoarse, terrifying voice. It was unknown whether he had managed to finish it or not, but the Cursed suddenly appeared beside him and, with one swift strike of the Frost Sword, cleanly severed the Prince of Cold's head. His head and body fell to the floor, while the walls of the hall opened in several places, forming holes through which the space of the black night could be seen. Demons with membranous wings flew out of it and began dismembering the Prince's body. Each demon took its small piece and flew away with it into the darkness of the enchanted night.
"The Master of the Ice Castle was killed, and the demons came to take what was theirs according to the contract made with him. They were the ones who built the Ice Castle at his command," said the Ice Queen.
A snowy forest appeared in the tall portraits on the walls. The Ice Queen stepped through the frame of the painting and entered one of the portraits. She found herself in the forest. The squad followed her.
Only the Spellcaster could not be found anywhere. All that remained of him was his book lying on the floor. Even that had turned black and was covered in ash, as if after a raging fire.