A few days had passed since Shin's haunting dream. The memory of the woman in the kimono lingered in his mind like a shadow that refused to fade. He tried to push it away, to focus on helping the Grimlocks with their daily tasks, but every time he closed his eyes, he could still hear her laughter echoing through the flames.
Then the blizzard came.
It swept down from the northern peaks without warning—a wall of white fury that swallowed the horizon. The winds howled like beasts, and the snow fell so thick that even the nearest houses vanished from sight. The people of Icy Peaks were told to stay indoors, to bar their doors and wait for the storm to pass.
This was supposed to be the day the Grimlock family left the village. Their supplies were packed, their sleds ready, and Cromwell had planned their route south toward the warmer valleys. But the storm had other plans.
By dusk, the wind was screaming against the walls, rattling the shutters and piling snow against the door. The fire burned bright in the hearth, but even its warmth couldn't chase away the unease that settled over the house.
Cromwell stood by the window, staring into the swirling white beyond the glass. His broad shoulders were tense, his hand resting on the hilt of the axe leaning against the wall.
Tyra looked up from her sewing. "You've been standing there for an hour, Cromwell. Sit down before you freeze just from looking outside."
He didn't move. "Something's wrong," he muttered.
She frowned. "It's just the storm. You've seen worse."
He shook his head slowly. "No... this feels different. The wind—it's not just wind. It's like it's carrying something."
Sam, who was sitting near the fire with Shin, glanced up nervously. "Carrying what?"
Cromwell didn't answer right away. He pressed his palm against the cold windowpane, his eyes narrowing. "Voices," he said finally. "I swear I can hear them."
John laughed uneasily. "You're just tired, Father. The storm's loud enough to make anyone hear things."
But Shin's expression darkened. "No," he said quietly. "He's right. I can feel it too."
The room fell silent. The only sound was the wind battering the walls, the faint creak of the roof under the weight of snow.
Tyra set her sewing aside and stood. "You're both just on edge. The storm will pass by morning."
Cromwell turned from the window, his face grim. "I hope you're right."
He sat down by the fire, the orange glow flickering across his scarred face. The flames danced wildly, as if reacting to the storm outside.
Shin stared into the fire, his thoughts drifting back to the dream—the woman's voice, her laughter, her words. You won't succeed in your quest.
He clenched his fists.
Outside, the wind howled louder, shaking the shutters violently. A faint thud echoed from the roof, followed by another—heavier, closer.
Then, without warning, the house exploded.
A deafening crash tore through the home as part of the northern wall shattered inward. Wood splintered, snow and ice blasted through the room, and the fire guttered under the sudden gust. Sam and John screamed as the blizzard poured in, freezing the air in seconds.
"By the gods!" Cromwell roared, shielding his family from the flying debris.
Through the swirling snow and broken timbers, a massive shadow loomed. Two glowing blue eyes pierced the storm. The shape stepped forward, and the ground trembled beneath its weight.
The image depicts a frost giant, a towering and regal being of ice and power. His skin resembles sculpted glacier stone—pale, rough, and glimmering faintly under the moonlight. His eyes blaze with an intense, icy blue glow that pierces through the frozen night. A crown of jagged ice rests upon his head, marking him as a ruler among his kind.
His long, silver‑white hair and beard flow like drifting snow, framing a stern, battle‑hardened face. He wears armor made of fur and shards of ice, blending primal strength with ancient majesty. Around his waist, a belt of frost‑crystals glows faintly, pulsing with cold energy.
In one massive hand, he grips a sword forged entirely from crystalized frost, its edges gleaming with deadly brilliance. In the other, he holds a round shield adorned with a radiant snowflake‑shaped gem that refracts the moonlight into shards of blue fire.
Behind him, snow‑covered mountains stretch beneath a full moon, and the air shimmers with frost and mist. The entire scene radiates an aura of frozen dominion and timeless power—this is no mere creature of winter, but a king of frost, born of storm, silence, and eternal cold.
"A frost giant," Shin breathed, his voice barely audible over the wind.
The creature's roar shook the house, its breath a cloud of icy mist. It swung a massive club made of frozen stone, smashing what remained of the wall.
Cromwell grabbed his axe, his eyes blazing. "Everyone down!" he shouted, then turned to Shin. "Shin! With me!"
Shin nodded, his instincts taking over. He grabbed a broken spear from the corner and followed Cromwell toward the breach.
Tyra reached for her bow, her hands trembling. "I'm coming too!"
Cromwell spun around, his voice sharp and commanding. "No! Stay with the children! Protect John and Sam!"
"But—"
"That's an order, Tyra!" he barked, his tone leaving no room for argument. "If we fall, you get them out!"
Tyra's eyes glistened, but she nodded, pulling Sam and John close. "Stay behind me," she whispered, not taking her eyes off the chaos.
Cromwell turned back to the gaping hole in the wall, snow whipping around him. The frost giant raised its club again, bellowing a challenge that shook the rafters.
Cromwell gritted his teeth and charged into the storm, his axe gleaming in the firelight. "Come on then, you frozen bastard!" he roared.
Shin followed close behind, his spear ready, his heart pounding. The cold bit into his skin, but he ignored it. The giant's shadow loomed larger, its icy breath filling the air.
"Keep its attention!" Cromwell shouted over the wind. "I'll go for the legs!"
Shin darted to the side, thrusting his spear toward the giant's arm. The weapon struck true, piercing the thick hide and drawing a roar of pain. The creature swung its club wildly, missing Shin by inches and smashing through what remained of the roof.
Cromwell seized the moment, charging forward with a battle cry. His axe cleaved into the giant's knee, the impact shaking his arms to the bone.
"Fall, damn you!" he growled, pulling the axe free and striking again.
The frost giant howled, stumbling backward. It swung its arm, knocking Cromwell off his feet and sending him crashing into the snow.
"Cromwell!" Shin shouted, lunging forward to distract the creature. He jabbed his spear into its chest, forcing it to turn away from the fallen man.
Cromwell groaned, pushing himself up. His breath came in ragged gasps—he was no longer in his prime, but the fire in his eyes burned as fiercely as ever.
"Not yet," he muttered, gripping his axe. "I'm not done yet!"
With a roar, he charged again, swinging his weapon with all the strength left in his body. The axe buried deep into the giant's chest, splitting through ice and flesh.
The creature staggered, its roar fading into a low rumble before it collapsed, shaking the ground as it fell.
Shin stood panting, his spear trembling in his hands. "It's down..."
Cromwell leaned on his axe, his breath heavy. "Aye... but look."
He turned his gaze toward the village through the storm. The blizzard had thinned just enough for him to see the faint glow of fires—and the towering shapes moving among them.
Hundreds of frost giants marched through Icy Peaks, their roars echoing through the night. The village was burning, and the screams of the dying carried on the wind.
Cromwell's face hardened. "Gods help us..."
Shin's eyes widened. "There are too many."
Cromwell grabbed his shoulder. "Then we save who we can! Go, Shin! Help the villagers! Get them to safety!"
Shin hesitated. "What about you?"
"I'll hold the line here!" Cromwell barked. "Go!"
Shin nodded and sprinted toward the village, disappearing into the storm.
Back in the Grimlock home, Tyra waited anxiously, her bow clutched tight. John trembled beside her, his small hands gripping her sleeve.
"Mother... is Father going to be okay?" he whispered.
Tyra forced a smile, brushing his hair back. "He's the strongest man I know. He'll come back."
But before she could say another word, the wall behind her groaned—and a massive hand burst through the wreckage. A frost giant's arm reached inside, its icy fingers wrapping around her waist.
"Mother!" John screamed.
Tyra struggled, kicking and clawing, but the creature's grip was iron. "John! Run!" she shouted, her voice breaking.
Outside, Cromwell heard her scream. His heart froze. "Tyra!"
He ran as fast as his legs could carry him, snow whipping against his face. As he reached the shattered house, he saw the giant lifting Tyra into the air.
"Let her go!" he roared, hurling his axe with all his strength.
The weapon spun through the storm, striking the giant's arm with a sickening crack. The creature bellowed in pain, dropping Tyra to the ground. Cromwell caught her as she fell, pulling her close.
"I've got you," he said, his voice trembling.
Tyra gasped for breath, clutching his arm. "The children—"
"They're safe," he said, glaring up at the wounded giant. "But this ends now."
Four frost giants heard the roar and turned toward the Grimlock house. Their heavy steps shook the ground as they approached, their eyes glowing like frozen stars.
Cromwell, still bleeding and battered, forced himself to stand. His body screamed in protest, but he ignored the pain. He reached down, yanked his axe from the snow, and faced the oncoming giants.
"Come on then," he growled, his breath steaming in the cold. "You want a fight? You'll get one."
These were no ordinary frost giants. Their armor was carved from glacier stone, their weapons forged from enchanted ice. Warrior-ranked giants—stronger, faster, and far deadlier than the ones before.
Cromwell's muscles tensed. He could feel his strength waning, but his spirit burned brighter than ever.
"For my family," he whispered.
Then he roared—a sound so fierce, so primal, it shook the very air. His eyes blazed with fury as he charged forward, swinging his axe with all the might left in his body.
"CROMWELL GRIMLOCK!" he bellowed, his voice echoing through the storm. "COME AND FACE ME, MONSTERS!"
The giants roared back, their thunderous voices shaking the snow from the mountains.
Far away, in the burning village, Shin froze mid-step. The sound of Cromwell's warcry cut through the blizzard like a blade.
"That voice..." he whispered, his eyes widening.
Suddenly, a flash of memory struck him—he and Cromwell standing side by side, surrounded by enemies, their weapons drawn, their backs to each other.
"Hold the line, Shin!" Cromwell's voice echoed in his mind. "We fight until the last breath!"
Shin gasped, gripping his spear tighter. "Cromwell... we've fought together before..."
The memory faded, leaving only the sound of the storm and the distant roar of battle.
Back at the Grimlock home, Cromwell was locked in a desperate fight. The four warrior giants surrounded him, their weapons crashing down like thunder. He blocked one strike, rolled aside from another, but each blow sent shockwaves through his body.
"Come on!" he shouted, swinging his axe into one giant's leg. The blade bit deep, but the creature barely flinched before backhanding him across the yard. Cromwell hit the ground hard, blood spilling from his mouth.
He tried to rise, his vision blurring. "Not... yet..." he growled.
The giants closed in, raising their weapons for the finishing blow.
Then a voice pierced the storm.
"STOP!"
It was Sam. She stood in the doorway, her eyes glowing with a pale blue light. Frost swirled around her hands, her breath misting in the air.
"Get away from my father!" she screamed.
A surge of power erupted from her body—an explosion of ice and wind that tore through the storm. Shards of frozen light shot forward, piercing the giants' chests and freezing them solid where they stood.
The four frost giants roared in agony before shattering into a thousand pieces, their remains scattering into the snow.
The storm fell silent.
Sam collapsed to her knees, her strength spent. "Father..." she whispered before falling unconscious.
John rushed forward, catching her before she hit the ground. "Sam! Wake up! Please!"
Cromwell staggered toward them, barely standing. His body was covered in blood, his breath shallow. He looked at Tyra, forcing a weak smile.
"It's... it's going to be fine," he said softly. "We're safe now..."
But before Tyra could answer, the air behind Cromwell grew cold—colder than the storm itself.
A whisper echoed through the wind.
"Safe? Oh, Cromwell Grimlock... you should know better."
Tyra's eyes widened. "Cromwell! Behind you!"
He turned just as a figure emerged from the swirling snow—a woman with long black hair, wearing a flowing white kimono. Her skin was pale as ice, her eyes glowing blue with malice.
A Yuki-Onna.
Before Cromwell could react, she thrust her hand forward, a spear of ice forming in her grasp. It pierced through his back, the tip bursting from his chest.
Cromwell gasped, blood staining the snow. His axe slipped from his hand.
"Cromwell!" Tyra screamed, rushing toward him.
The Yuki-Onna smiled coldly. "The storm takes all."
Cromwell fell to his knees, his eyes meeting Tyra's one last time. "Tyra... take care of them..." he whispered before collapsing into the snow.
Tyra fell beside him, clutching his body, her cries echoing through the storm. "No! Cromwell! Please—no!"
Moments later, Shin arrived, his cloak torn and his face pale from the cold. He froze at the sight before him—Tyra kneeling in the snow, Cromwell lying motionless in her arms.
"Cromwell!" Shin shouted, rushing to his side. He knelt beside him, lifting his head gently. "Why... why didn't you tell me you knew me?"
Cromwell's eyes fluttered open, faint light still burning within them. He gave a weak smile. "Because... it was for the best, old friend. You weren't ready to remember."
Shin's voice trembled. "Old friend...?"
Cromwell coughed, blood staining his lips. "Promise me... you'll take care of Tyra and the kids. They're all that matters now."
Shin gripped his hand tightly. "Don't talk like that. You'll make it through this."
Cromwell shook his head slowly. "No... my time's done. I'm sorry, Shin. I won't be able to help you remember who you were... but maybe this will."
With trembling hands, he reached into his satchel and pulled out a small orb glowing faintly with red light—an orb made of fire.
"Take it," he whispered. "It's part of what we once were."
Shin hesitated, then pressed his hand against the orb. The moment he touched it, the fire surged into his body, fusing with his chest. His eyes widened as visions flooded his mind—memories of battle, laughter, and brotherhood.
He saw Cromwell standing beside him, younger and stronger, both of them wearing the same insignia—the mark of The Fateful Ten.
Shin gasped, clutching his head. "Cromwell... we fought together... you were my brother-in-arms."
Cromwell smiled faintly. "Aye... and you were the best of us."
Shin looked down at his hands, feeling warmth surge through him. Flames flickered around his fingers, and in an instant, two jagged-edged katanas of pure fire materialized—each blade serrated like the teeth of a dragon, burning with fury and grief.
"I... I remember," he whispered. "I can conjure them again."
Cromwell's breathing grew shallow. "Good... then you'll need that power. The storm isn't done yet."
Shin's eyes burned with determination. "Rest now, Cromwell. I'll protect them. I swear it."
Cromwell's lips curved into a faint smile. "That's... all I needed to hear."
Tyra leaned closer, tears streaming down her face. "Cromwell... please, don't leave me. I should've fought by your side. I should've—"
He reached up weakly, brushing her cheek. "You did enough, love. You gave me a reason to fight."
Tyra sobbed, pressing her forehead against his. "I can't do this without you."
"You can," he whispered. "You always could."
She kissed him one last time, her tears freezing against his skin. "Goodbye, my love."
Cromwell smiled faintly, his eyes closing as his final breath left him.
Tyra's cry broke through the storm, raw and heart-wrenching.
Shin clenched his fists, his rage igniting like wildfire. The dual jagged-edged katanas flared brighter, their flames roaring to life.
He turned to Tyra. "Hide for now. I'll deal with her."
Tyra wiped her tears, her eyes hardening. "No. This is my fight too. She took my husband. It's my task to avenge him."
Shin hesitated, then nodded. "Then we fight together."
Tyra turned to John, who was still holding Sam. "John, take care of your sister. Hide until it's over. Do you understand?"
John nodded, tears in his eyes. "Yes, Mother."
Tyra stood, equipping her bow and quiver. She looked at Shin, her expression resolute. "Let's end this."
Shin's blades flared brighter, the snow around him melting into steam. "For Cromwell."
"For Cromwell," Tyra echoed, drawing her bow.
Together, they charged into the storm—Shin's dual jagged-edged katanas blazing through the blizzard, Tyra's arrows glowing with frostlight—as they faced the frost giants and the Yuki-Onna who awaited them in the heart of the storm.