Frostborne Returns: Invincible Snow Lord

Chapter 4: Eryndor, The Crown of Civilization

The ruins stretched endlessly before Kael Everfrost, a silent graveyard beneath the pale moonlight. Jagged structures of ice and stone jutted from the earth, remnants of a forgotten age now blanketed in frost. The bitter wind whispered through the crumbling walls, tugging at his tattered cloak as his footsteps echoed against the frozen ground.

Kael moved with quiet purpose, his breath slow and measured. Each step felt like a dance with the past, his keen eyes scanning the desolate landscape. He was searching. For what, he did not know — a weapon, a clue, anything that could offer him insight into this era.

The system had told him the world’s mana was gone. No mages, no enchantments, no arcane sigils waiting to be activated. That knowledge offered some comfort; he wouldn’t need to fear being obliterated by a rogue sorcerer. But still, what had humanity replaced magic with?

His gaze settled on a half-buried structure ahead. The stone was weathered and cracked, but something glimmered faintly within the rubble. Kael strode forward, kneeling beside the debris. Brushing away the ice and dirt, his fingers curled around cold metal.

With a soft grunt, he pulled it free. Moonlight glinted off the steel. It was a weapon — long, slender, with a curved edge and a sturdy grip wrapped in leather. The craftsmanship was unfamiliar, but the weight felt right in his hand.

“A blade.” Kael tested its balance, eyes narrowing. “No enchantments… but sharp enough.”

He stood, holding the weapon loosely at his side. A part of him longed for the familiar hum of mana coursing through enchanted steel, but this would suffice. For now.

As he ventured deeper into the ruins, a prickle ran down his spine. He froze, instincts honed from a lifetime of battle screaming at him. Slowly, he shifted into the shadows, pressing his back against the cold stone.

Footsteps.

Faint, but steady. Not the hesitant steps of a lost traveler, nor the hurried pace of prey fleeing a predator. These were the strides of trained professionals. Warriors.

Kael’s grip tightened on his weapon. He inhaled slowly, forcing his heartbeat to steady. Rushing in without understanding their strength would be foolish. No, he needed to observe.

Peering around the edge of the stone, Kael’s eyes narrowed. Three figures moved through the ruins, their footsteps muffled by the snow. They wore heavy coats and unfamiliar armor, dark and sleek. Strange devices rested in their hands, gleaming under the moonlight.

Kael frowned. No swords, no spears, no visible runes of power. Yet they moved with purpose, sweeping their surroundings with those odd weapons. Were they tools? Artifacts of this era?

One of them knelt, inspecting the ground. The other two fanned out, scanning the area. Kael could hear their voices, low and urgent.

“Tracks,” one said. “Fresh.”

Another cursed under their breath. “A survivor? Out here?”

Kael’s eyes narrowed further. They were searching. For him.

I see. Rescue soldiers.

His mind worked quickly. If they were rescuers, they wouldn’t attack without provocation. Still, Kael needed more information before revealing himself.

He moved silently, circling to higher ground. From atop a crumbled wall, he observed their movements. The leader, a man with sharp eyes and a firm stance, seemed to command authority. The others deferred to him, their body language tense but disciplined.

Suddenly, the leader paused. His head snapped up, scanning the shadows. Kael tensed. Had he been spotted?

“Over there.” The man gestured toward the ruins. “Spread out.”

Kael exhaled softly. They were closing in. Confrontation was inevitable. Best to take control of the situation.

Stepping from the shadows, Kael descended the crumbling staircase, his weapon held loosely at his side. The wind shifted, carrying his presence toward them.

The soldiers whirled around, weapons raised. Kael’s eyes flicked to the devices in their hands — no blades, no mana. Yet their stances were firm, disciplined. Warriors of a different age.

“Identify yourself!” the leader barked. “Hands where I can see them!”

Kael raised one hand slowly, the other resting on the hilt of his blade. “Calm yourselves,” he said, his voice cool and measured. “I am no enemy.”

The leader’s eyes narrowed. “A survivor?” His gaze swept over Kael’s attire — tattered royal garments, long faded from time. “Where did you come from?”

Kael considered his words carefully. Revealing his origins would only raise more questions. “I awoke in the ruins,” he said truthfully. “The cold spared me, though I know not why.”

The soldiers exchanged glances. One of them lowered his weapon slightly. “You’ve been out here alone?”

Kael inclined his head. “Yes.”

The leader studied him for a long moment. Then, with a sharp nod, he lowered his weapon. “You’re lucky we found you. This place isn’t safe.”

Kael arched a brow. “And you are?”

“Lieutenant Arden,” the man said. “Exploration and Rescue Division.” He gestured to his companions. “We’re tasked with searching extreme cold zones and ruins for survivors, then leading them back to Eryndor.”

“Eryndor?” Kael repeated, tasting the name on his tongue.

Arden nodded. “The Crown of Civilization. The last bastion of humanity.”

Kael’s gaze drifted toward the horizon, where distant lights shimmered faintly against the night sky. So… civilization endured. A new empire, born from ice and ruin.

He turned back to Arden, inclining his head. “Very well. Lead the way.”

The soldiers moved quickly, guiding Kael through the frozen expanse. The ruins stretched endlessly, each step echoing against the silence. Kael said little, observing silently as the soldiers navigated the terrain with ease.

Finally, as the first hints of dawn painted the sky, they crested a frozen hill. Kael’s breath caught.

Before them, illuminated by the rising sun, stood Eryndor.

Towering metal spires pierced the sky, their surfaces gleaming in the early light. Walls of steel and stone encircled the city, a fortress against the ice. Massive gates loomed ahead, guarded by sentries clad in dark armor, their weapons glimmering ominously.

The soldiers quickened their pace, relief washing over their faces. Kael followed silently, his eyes drinking in every detail. This was not the world he had known — but perhaps it was the world he needed.

As they neared the gates, Kael’s gaze hardened.

The time for observation was over.

His path was clear.

Eryndor awaited.