Chương 71: White Ice

The Fire Man and Lloyd stood back to back, fending off the Players closing in from every side, but Lloyd's strength was already running out — his arms trembled with exhaustion, his breath came in ragged gasps, dark spots kept swimming across his vision, and his grip on the axe handle grew weaker with every blow he blocked. Sweat poured into his eyes, mixing with someone else's blood that had splattered his face a few skirmishes ago, and his lungs burned from lack of air.

"When is this going to end?" And then Lloyd suddenly felt an intense cold — unbelievably sharp, cutting straight to the bone, utterly out of place in this setting, as if the temperature itself had plummeted in the span of a single heartbeat. His breath began escaping in clouds of white vapor, and the exposed skin on his body instantly broke out in goosebumps, as if he'd been transported in one step from a warm forest straight into the dead of winter.

Suddenly all the Players surrounding Lloyd began to freeze, ice spreading across their bodies right before his eyes — thin white crystals rapidly crawling over their skin, locking their movements in place, freezing their faces mid-expression in masks of shock and terror, as if time itself had stopped for them at the worst possible moment. The sound of the ice sealing their bodies resembled a quiet, ominous crackling, like breaking glass, rolling across the clearing in wave after wave.

Within seconds, not a single Player remained capable of moving — the entire crowd had turned into a ghastly collection of ice statues, frozen mid-attack or mid-defense in every conceivable pose. Even the Fire Man looked just as bewildered as Lloyd — the flames on his shoulders dimmed for a moment, shrinking back under the assault of this unnatural cold, as if even they sensed a far greater power at work here. — What the—?

Then, from within the veil of dark, ground-hugging cold, swirling in white mist just above the grass, a man emerged. Each of his steps was accompanied by a faint crunch of frost settling into the trampled grass.

He had white hair and dark, almost black eyes, and wore a white cloak trimmed with gold patterns along the edges, beneath which a blue striped shirt and a dark, neatly knotted tie were visible, as though he'd just stepped out of a business meeting rather than a bloody clearing littered with corpses and ice-bound bodies. His gaze held an unnatural calm, almost bored, and his hands rested casually in his pockets.

He surveyed Lloyd and the Fire Man with total indifference, as though studying not living people but some mildly curious, not particularly interesting exhibits behind museum glass. — I have a proposal for you. Lloyd and the Fire Man tensed instantly, both stepping back in unison, fists clenched, ready to block an attack at any moment.

The frigid air between them and the stranger still shimmered with tiny ice crystals slowly settling to the ground, catching the dim sunlight filtering through the canopy and scattering it into thousands of tiny sparks. Stolen novel; please report.

But then a sudden crack of ice sounded somewhere behind the blond man, and on the horizon, among the frozen figures, the long-eared Elf appeared, approaching with an unhurried, confident stride, as though this entire icy spectacle hadn't surprised him in the least, the hem of his white garments brushing lightly against the frozen statues of Players as he passed. Lorian gave a faint smirk, looking the blond stranger up and down. — Not a bad attack, blondie.

The man kept standing there with the same nonchalance as before, as though the Elf's words hadn't affected him in the slightest, only the corner of his mouth twitching faintly, his gaze still fixed somewhere off in the distance. But then the Elf suddenly spread his arms in an almost friendly gesture, as if inviting everyone present to set aside any recent hostility. — I think we all share the same goal — getting through this Exam safely. I propose an alliance.

The blond man gave a short nod at once, just a single light tilt of the head, while Lloyd and the Fire Man remained standing there, stunned, exchanging silent, questioning glances, not quite believing what was happening.

But then the Fire Man nodded too, the flames on his shoulders flaring up a little brighter, as if expressing agreement in place of words, and all three of them turned toward Lloyd at once, waiting for his answer — three pairs of eyes fixed directly on him in the middle of this icy, blood-soaked clearing, where opposing elements collided: the heat of flame, the chill of frost, and warm, heated blood.

"If I refuse, I'll either end up an ice statue or get roasted alive — just wonderful. Choice with no real choice. Well, I wasn't planning on refusing anyway." Lloyd scratched the back of his neck nervously, feeling cold sweat on his back mix with the chilled air around him, and looked over his newly, unexpectedly assembled team — an expressionless Elf, an icy stranger in a business suit, and a warrior wreathed in flame. A faint, somewhat strained smile crossed his face, more nervous than happy. — Sure, I'm in.

I'm Lloyd, by the way. A faint smile appeared on the Elf's face, warm and almost unfamiliar after everything they'd just been through, as though he hadn't allowed himself such a luxury in a long time. — Lorian. The blond man simply kept staring off into the distance, at the fake, unreal sky of this strange world, as if the whole situation were a burden to him, and meeting new allies just another tiresome necessity. — Casper.

The Fire Man crossed his arms over his chest, the flames on his shoulders flaring up brighter once more, giving him the look of an exhausted but still formidable warrior, ready to leap into the next fight at any moment. — Brand.

An awkward moment of silence followed — four completely different beings standing in the middle of a clearing littered with bodies and locked in ice, each sizing up their new allies with a wary, appraising look, as if weighing whether these chance companions could be trusted even for a moment. The wind drifting between the tree trunks carried a faint smell of smoke mixed with the fresh scent of frost, and somewhere in the distance, echoes of other battles still rang out across the vast forest.

A few minutes later, they silently left the bloody, thoroughly frozen clearing behind, leaving in their wake a place that would forever hold the traces of their first battle fought together — dozens of ice statues frozen forever at the moment of their defeat, and the charred bodies of those who'd had far less luck.