CHAPTER 40
The wind howled across the frozen landscape, carrying with it the sharp bite of the cold. My breath crystallized in the air as I stood over the dissolving remains of the Frost Wraith, the Aetheric Flow calming once again. I could still feel the lingering tension in my muscles, but the immediate danger had passed.
The guards and traders behind me stared in silence, unsure whether to relax or remain on edge. Their faces, pale and drawn, reflected both awe and fear. I kept my gaze on the spot where the wraith had fallen, still feeling the pulse of magic in the snow beneath my boots.
Leira, the guard who had doubted the existence of creatures like the wraith, took a cautious step toward me. Her hand rested on the hilt of her sword, though she didn’t seem as eager to draw it now. “That was… different,” she said, her voice steady despite the tremor in her hand.
I gave her a nod, my grip on my sword relaxing as I sheathed it. The decision to use my blade instead of fire magic had been deliberate. The Frost Wraith’s cold, ethereal nature made it resistant to heat-based attacks. Even with my unlimited mana, I knew brute magic wouldn’t be the most effective tool here. Fire would have been absorbed or negated by the creature’s aura of frost.
Physical strikes with my sword were more reliable in breaking through the creature’s form. Understanding an opponent’s weaknesses was just as important as unleashing raw power.
“It’s gone,” I said. “But this won’t be the last. The Frozen Wastes are full of creatures like that, born from the magic here. We need to stay alert.”
Tarek, the old trader who had spoken of the Wastes' dangers, shuffled forward. His eyes were still wide, but the fear seemed to have shifted into something else—respect, maybe. “You fought like you knew it was coming,” he said, his voice low. “Like you’ve faced things like this before.”
I didn’t correct him, though his assumption wasn’t entirely true. “I could sense it in the Aetheric Flow,” I said, crouching down and running my hand over the snow. “The magic here is different. Stronger. It’s alive in a way I haven’t felt before.”
As the camp settled down for the night, I took a moment to reflect on everything I had learned so far. The conversations with the traders, the subtle shifts in the Aetheric Flow, and the fight with the Frost Wraith all painted a picture of a world that was far more complex than I had ever imagined.
Sari, the younger trader who had spoken with me earlier, sat beside the flames, her eyes bright with curiosity. “I’ve traveled with a lot of adventurers, but none quite like you,” she said, her voice quiet, though the question behind it was clear. “You don’t seem like someone who’s just starting out.”
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I glanced at her, thinking over her words. I hadn’t been adventuring long—not outside the forest, at least—but I’d spent years learning under Alric’s guidance. “I haven’t traveled far yet,” I admitted. “But I’ve learned that magic works differently depending on where you are. The magic here—it’s tied to survival. It’s not just about power.”
Sari nodded thoughtfully. “The Frozen Wastes are unforgiving. People here rely on magic just to make it through the winters. But the further north you go, the more dangerous it gets. I’ve heard stories—about places where even the magic isn’t enough.”
I leaned in slightly, curious. “Stories?”
She hesitated for a moment, her gaze flicking to the others gathered around the fire before lowering her voice. “They say that deep in the north, there’s a place called the North Heart. No one who’s gone there has ever returned. Some say it’s a place where the magic is so strong, it takes on a life of its own. That the cold isn’t just an element—it’s a will.”
The idea of a place where the magic was that powerful intrigued me. The Frozen Wastes already felt like a place unlike any other, but if there was a deeper, more ancient source of magic hidden within it, I had to learn more.
As the fire crackled, Leira joined the conversation. “You’re really buying into these stories?” she asked, her tone half skeptical, half curious. “Magic that thinks for itself? It’s just superstition.”
Tarek, sitting nearby, shook his head. “Superstition or not, there are places in the world we can’t explain. I’ve been through enough in these Wastes to know there’s something here—something older than the kingdoms and empires. You can feel it in the air.”
I listened quietly, my thoughts turning over the words of both Tarek and Sari. The Frozen Wastes, the Aetheric Flow, and the creatures it produced—there was a connection between them that I was only beginning to understand. I would need to learn more, but that would come with time. For now, I could feel the cold magic brushing against the edges of my consciousness, as if testing me, waiting to see if I could handle what lay further north.
That night, as I lay beneath the stars, I thought back to the fight with the Frost Wraith and the conversations I’d had. Each day in these Wastes revealed more of the world I was stepping into—a world where the very magic around me felt like it was alive. Alric had warned me before I left that each battle would teach me something new, and now I understood what he meant.
The Aetheric Flow wasn’t something that could be mastered with brute strength alone. Understanding was key. In the forest, my magic had come easily. But out here, in the Frozen Wastes, the rules were different.
Alric’s words echoed in my mind: “The enemies you’ll face out there—they’re different. The creatures you meet are just the beginning.”
He was right. The journey ahead wouldn’t just test my strength—it would test everything I’d learned. But I would face it, and when the time came, I would be ready.
For now, I needed to rest. Tomorrow, the journey would continue.