Chapter 5: Hunting the Beast of Freljord 3

Everything was set for the trap. The archers took up positions on the high ground. Warriors with swords hid behind the stones placed in front of the entrance. All that remained was to wait for the predator to emerge.

Oink, oink, oink.

A sound came from deep inside the cave. A male began to emerge. He had strong instincts and sensed danger. He began to look around carefully, turning his head from side to side. He slapped the snow with his tusks and let out a low growl. Slowly, he moved away from the cave and stepped outside, and it was worth crossing the threshold. Immediately, a wall of ice appeared behind him. Turning around, he tried to break the passage by pressing into the ice. Many cracks covered it, but still the ice withstood the pressure.

The arrows pierced through the air, aimed at the boar, and dug into its skin, penetrating only a small depth. This only enraged the boar, and he discovered the source of the arrows, grunting and charging forward. In his path were the warriors, who grabbed a rope lying on the ground. The boar, unable to stop himself, tripped over it and slid across the snow. The rope tore with such force that the men holding it were dragged along and fell to the ground.

The archers continued to fire at the beast, and many arrows pierced its carcass. But it was still unstoppable, quickly rising from the ground and charging the warriors who had recently held the rope. . They drew their swords, but the huge carcass had no fear of the ram.

Kylen rushed to their aid, building a wall of ice in front of them. But the boar simply tore it down without slowing. When it came within an inch of the hunter who was in the boar's path, Kylen pushed him away and was struck by the boar. The boar's powerful tusks slammed into the young man's stomach, throwing him high into the air.

The body landed a few feet away. Kylen felt dizzy, blood spurting from his mouth. The side of his stomach stabbed horribly. He felt incredibly sick, blood trickling from his body. With pure will, he created magic in his hand and applied it to himself, freezing the wound. He rolled over from his back to his stomach and struggled to stand on his limbs. He coughed up blood a few more times.

Hearing was fuzzy, sounds blurred. He looked up from the battle and saw his comrades trying to subdue the predator, their swords clashing against the boar's hide but inflicting only minor wounds. His eyes filled with blue light, magic answering his call. The wind picked up, lifting the snow. He was already standing confidently, and when he spread his hands, ice magic swirled in his palms. Many ice spears appeared in the air.

Pointing his hand in the direction of the animal, they flew at a rapid speed. The spears pierced the animal's hide, and blood spurted out. The boar was riddled with arrows and ice spears, but it still resisted with its last strength.

Kylen walked over to the still-living boar and drew an ice sword, piercing its head through its eye socket. With a final squeal, the beast froze. The young man collapsed into the snow, the light in his eyes gone. He clutched at his stomach and fumbled for his pouch.

"Here, drink this," Jorund said, helping him down the potion.

"Ugh, that's where the strength comes from. It would have made great armor, but the material is ruined beyond repair," Bjorn commented. He limped a little with his left leg. The boar had managed to hit his leg with a hoof and now his leg hurt and he couldn't walk properly. "It's good that everyone is alive," he added, sitting down on a rock.

Kylen was able to recover a bit, but his side still hurt. As he recovered from the fight, he suddenly heard an ominous grunt. A female emerged from the cave. She was a bit smaller, but no less dangerous.

"To battle," Bjorn shouted, jumping up from his seat.

Kylen didn't stay away either and rose to his feet. Clenching his palms, he began to cast ice magic and immediately fired a freezing beam.

Ice engulfed the beast's front legs, and it collapsed into the snow, trying to get up but struggling in vain.

"Come on!" Bjorn shouted loudly. The warriors began to strike at the boar's weak points, and it gradually gave in, resisting less and less until it bled to death. This fight was much easier, the skin was not as hard and the steel penetrated it easily.

Having decided not to leave the prey, the hunters stayed behind to cut the tusks and skins of the animals, and also to prepare the camp, build a fire, and start cooking dinner. The rest of the group went deeper into the cave, where it was dark enough that they had to light some torches. The deeper they went into the cave, the colder it got. This seemed strange, since it should normally be warmer inside than outside.

As they continued, they came across several animal bones that looked like boar prey. Following the tracks, they came to the boar's habitat. The place was dirty and didn't smell very good. But the grunts of their offspring could be heard. They were small, without massive tusks, and their hides were not yet so thick. There were five of them in all, which meant the hike had been worth it.

Kylen felt cold, which was strange considering that even the frostiest days didn't cause him any discomfort. Here, however, he felt a hint of cold. Guided by his senses, he felt the ambient temperature drop noticeably.

His search led him to a glowing corner where many small ice crystals protruded from the rocks. They smelled of an eerie frost. When he touched one of them, he felt the skin on his palms tingle.

"Amazing," he said. It was the first time he'd encountered something colder than even his magic.

He broke off a crystal and decided to show it to his own. His hand began to be covered with a strange ice, and he could not bend it to his will.

"Kylen, where are you going? The food is ready, sit down and eat," Jorund said as soon as Kylen came out. By now, everyone had gone outside and was eating meat roasted on the fire. After the battle, the exhaustion was palpable. The bodies of the boars were covered with snow to keep the smell from spreading.

"I found this ice," he said, showing a small crystal. Most people thought it was ordinary ice, but Bjorn immediately recognized the rare resource.

"This is True Ice," he murmured, looking at the crystal.

"True ice? Isn't that a myth?" someone asked.

"No, this ice is so rare that it is a great stroke of luck to come across it. It is the very embodiment of Freljord's nature: his fury, his cold, and his death. Only the Frost Guardians have significant reserves of this resource," Bjorn said, a certain sadness and joy in his eyes. "Where did you find it?"

"The next thing I knew, I felt cold air coming from there," Kylen replied. He decided to put down the crystal as it was becoming difficult to hold.

"We don't know how to use it, we don't have mages or blacksmiths who can forge weapons out of it, it's mostly useless to us," Bjorn replied.

"Understood, but I'll take some with me," Kylen replied. He wanted to study the crystal, maybe he could learn how to control it.

"We'll spend the night in the cave and leave in the morning," Bjorn told them.

The hunting party rested, satisfied with the successful mission. All that remained was to return to the settlement, and then they could rest. The wounds on Kylen's stomach healed quickly under the influence of the healer's potion. Only one side effect remained: weakness and an increased appetite.

Now, with the extra load on the sled, their speed slowed considerably. On some of the sleds lay Tormir, covered with a cloth, on others the skin of the boar, and on the last the offspring. The sled was pulled by two men, and the others gradually followed.

It was not until evening that they had traveled halfway across the Dragon's Ridge. They had to camp on the slopes for the night. They had a problem: the little boars began to squeal. They were hungry, and the hunters didn't have the food they needed. They couldn't eat meat yet and could only drink their mother's milk. This attracted the attention of the mountain animals, and the hunters could hear the howling that separated them here and there.

"We have to find a way to silence them, or all the predators will be on us," Bjorn admitted.

"Why don't we wrap a cloth around their mouths? It would make less noise," Volkar suggested, tearing off a piece of cloth and wrapping it around the face of one of the babies. It whimpered pitifully, but the sound was much quieter.

"That won't solve the problem, they need food, they could die if they don't get food," Bjorn said. The journey will take at least two days.

"Let's make some broth from the chopped meat, maybe they can drink it," Folkiar suggested.

"Otherwise, we can only hope that they survive," Bjorn added.

The hunters did so and made soup. They fed it to the boars, who did not drink the liquid too eagerly at first, but after a few moments, perhaps because they were hungry, or perhaps because they liked it, they began to devour the food quite greedily, not surprisingly. According to the stories, they were all day and could eat anything.

After solving the problems, they were able to spend the night and set out again in the morning. After a few hours they were able to cross the ridge, but now they had a very difficult route to take. It was even more difficult with the load. They lengthened the ropes and increased the distance between the sleds by several meters. The free men tied themselves together and made their way. There were no landmarks, and a strong wind blew across the terrain, changing the landscape. Once they had passed the path safely, the next time it would be the most dangerous path.

Fortunately, they had no problems and reached the bridge that was still there. A part of the abyss had already begun to appear, and soon it was certain that the abyss would disappear again, bringing danger to the travelers.

Kylen stepped forward to make sure the bridge was strong. He froze additional supports from below and reinforced the ice on the bridge. They were able to reach the other side safely.

It was less than a day's journey home, but they would not get there in time for nightfall, and they would have to stop and wait for dawn. Finally, the last dangerous area was passed, and the native theories began. Home was getting closer and closer, but they still had to make one last stop.

Kylen didn't sleep at all that night, and when he stepped out of his tent, he replaced the patrolling hunter. Crouching in the snow, he pulled out a stone of true ice.

"What are you hiding inside of you?" he asked and looked at his reflection. The crystal was perfectly clear, reflecting like a mirror.

Kylen's hands glowed as his magic began to interact with the crystal. The cold of the crystal intensified, but the young man didn't let go. His eyes glowed blue. Swirls of magic began to lift the snow. The wind, which had been gentle, began to become aggressive. Like a sword blade, the wind began to cut through the bark of the trees. The sky began to fill with clouds.

Kylen felt that he could fight off the cold, but he still backed away when he noticed how violently the environment began to change. When he stopped interacting, he saw a thick layer of ice around him, and all the nearby trees were stripped of their branches and died in an instant. The air was as cold as his breath, freezing the room.

He decided for himself that it wasn't worth it yet, not knowing how much damage he could do to everything around him if he decided to master this magic to the fullest. Though he wouldn't admit it out loud, he was terrified of the power he could get his hands on. It was merciless, it terrified him.

Sighing, he looked up at the vast sky; as beautiful as his home was, it was also dangerous. He had heard many legends of the gods, of those who had overthrown them, of the catastrophe that had nearly destroyed their continent. Even of the wars that had taken place before he was born. To remember the war of the Three Sisters. To think that two sisters tried to bring the spawn of the Abyss to their world, and only thanks to Lysandra were they able to stop the invasion. This is the version of history known to the Freljordians, those who know the truth are few and far between.

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His thoughts were distracted by a warmth that appeared next to his hand. He looked down and saw the boar rubbing against his hand.

"You know I killed your comrades, don't you?" Kylen asked. The beast said nothing, but continued to rub against his arm. It seemed hungry, but he remembered that they had fed it, and now he asked. Stroking the boar's head, he found some dried meat and gave it to it. "I only have this."

The boar first sniffed the food, then licked a little, then took the whole piece in one bite and began to grunt and eat. After the chow we gave them, they started eating everything we gave them. Maybe it's some kind of survival mechanism, Kylen thought.

"I'll take you in, and your name will be Dragal," Kylen said. And using cold magic, he froze some of the fur on his head. The hair turned white.

The young man remained awake until morning. The party made a last dash for home, and when they almost reached it, they met the guards. After accepting the burden of the tired hunters, they walked with them into the village. After a few moments, they finally saw the fence of their home village and the smoke coming from the ovens.

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As soon as they passed through the gate, people began to gather to greet them. Kailen was greeted by Ingun, who was standing next to her mother. She ran up to him and gave him a big hug.

"I was worried about you," she said with a smile.

"It's good to see you too," Kylen replied.

He noticed his parents waiting nearby. Putting Ingun down, he walked over to his mother and saw the intense concern in her eyes, and she examined his body first, her gaze not hiding the torn clothing around his stomach.

"Are you hurt?" She asked worriedly, looking around.

"It's all right, it wasn't an easy hike," Kylen replied. His mother just hugged him tightly.

He let go of her and looked at his father. He simply placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Well done, son. You have brought good to our village," he said.

"Where's Tormir?" came a woman's hysterical cry.

All the villagers turned their eyes to Bjorn, who was holding the woman down as she screamed her husband's name.

"Forgive us, we couldn't keep him alive," Bjorn said, looking away.

The widow began to beat his chest with her hands.

"No, you're lying. He just fell behind you and will leave now," the woman said crying, trying to fool herself.

Deciding that it was better to do it now than later, Bjorn went over to the sled and lifted the cloth, revealing Tormir's body with his face frozen. The woman screamed exhaustedly and fell down beside the body, crying loudly.

"What's wrong, Kylen?" Mother asked.

"Bandits. They ambushed us, and there were twice as many of them as there were of us," Kylen replied.

Joy was replaced by sadness. They had lost another brave warrior. The village decided to bury him as soon as possible, for his body had been in such a state for many days. His body was taken to a high peak and placed on a wooden bed. According to their traditions, they burned the bodies of the fallen so that their souls would spread throughout the world and not remain in one place and turn into an evil spirit. If the gods so chose, the soul would change and live again.

"You were a brave and strong warrior, Tormir. Your bravery will not be forgotten, and your memory will live on in our minds," the leader said, lighting the wood.

The fire blazed and the flames began to consume the body of the fallen warrior. The ashes rose to the sky, taking his soul with them. The widow could only weep, for now she was left alone with her children. He had given his life f