The smaller heart of the Eternal Glacier lay silent, its frozen expanse now a graveyard of shattered ice and lifeless bodies.

The final entity of the rift was nothing more than a broken husk, its corpse sprawled across the icy ground.

The Rift Core pulsed faintly in the captain’s grip, an eerie glow reflecting in his sharp eyes.

They had won. The rift had been conquered, and their mission was complete. Yet, despite everything, the captain felt a gnawing dissatisfaction.

The glacier was still roaring.

It wasn’t the sound of shifting ice or the dying echoes of their battle—it was something else. A distant, throbbing tremor, like someone locked in battle somewhere far away.

Ezra adjusted his shield, glancing at the captain with an amused smirk. “I know that look. You’re not ready to leave yet, are you?” He motioned toward the final entity’s remains. “Didn’t get the thrill you were looking for from that thing?”

Cain chuckled, kicking a chunk of ice aside. “Still don’t get why you bother with these low-level rifts, Captain. An A-rank Riftwalker like you could be making a killing in the high-tier ones.” He shook his head. “Beats me every time.”

The captain exhaled, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “I had a feeling about this place. And besides…” His fingers tightened around the Rift Core, his gaze distant. “Something tells me we might run into David again. So why not?”

Ezra and Cain exchanged knowing looks but said nothing. If the captain had a gut feeling, they weren’t about to argue.

The group turned their backs on the wreckage and set off, moving toward the greater heart of the Eternal Glacier—the source of the distant shocks and reverberations.

As they advanced, the tremors intensified. The howling winds carried strange echoes, sharp and unnatural. Then, as they rounded a jagged formation of ice, the sight before them made them pause.

A massive chasm yawned in the distance, its depths an abyss of swirling frost and shadow.

Two figures locked into his sight.

One, a dark-robed man, rigid and unmoving, his piercing gaze locked onto the abyss below. The other hovered above the chasm, balanced on a floating fragment of rock.

In his grasp, a pulsating light glowed with such intensity that it seemed to pull at him, as if trying to drag him into the void.

Cain let out a low whistle. “Well, this just got interesting.” His eyes flicked toward the man above the chasm. “Definitely not the David you were expecting, huh?”

The captain rolled his shoulders. “Guess that guy really did die after all.”

The robed man—Zephiron—turned slowly, his eyes settling on them with unreadable intensity. The air around him seemed to tighten, carrying a weight that wasn’t physical but felt just as oppressive.

“Uninvited guests,” he said coolly.

The captain met his gaze without flinching. “That makes two of us.” His eyes flickered to the glowing shard in Azrikal’s hands. “But since we’re all here, how about you tell me what’s so special about that thing?”

Zephiron’s expression didn’t change, but his stance shifted slightly—a subtle readiness. “If you have any sense, you’ll turn back now. This is not something for scavengers.”

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Cain barked out a laugh. “Oh, he’s got a mouth on him. I like this one.”

The captain tilted his head, considering. There was a tension in the air now, humming beneath the icy wind.

He smirked. “Let’s see where this goes.”

The ice beneath them groaned, the cold thickening, but the fire of confrontation was already lit.

Zephiron turned, his gaze cool and distant, as if addressing mere insects. “Your presence here is irrelevant. We have no business with you.”

The captain let out a low chuckle, stepping forward. “That so? Then why do you look like you’ve just been through hell?”

Above the chasm, Azrikal’s fingers clenched around the pulsating light. His entire body trembled, his breathing uneven—like a man on the verge of losing himself. “We are travelers,” he said, his voice rigid, strained. “Same as you.”

Ezra smirked. “Travelers, huh? Is that what we’re calling it now? Because I’ve never seen travelers wielding something that looks like it could tear a hole through reality.”

Zephiron’s gaze flicked to him, unimpressed. “Your understanding is limited. Don’t speak of what you cannot grasp.”

The captain exhaled, his breath curling in the frigid air. “We heard the commotion, thought we’d see what was left. And judging by what’s in your friend’s hand, looks like we arrived just in time.”

Zephiron regarded him with mild disinterest. “And now you believe it belongs to you?”

A stillness settled between them, tense, electric—like the last breath before a blade is drawn.

Then the glacier groaned.

A ripple surged through the ice beneath them, a tremor so unnatural it made even the most seasoned Riftwalkers tense. The glow in Azrikal’s grasp flared—and suddenly, his entire body seized.

Azrikal’s breath hitched. His fingers dug into his own skin as veins of searing light cracked through his arms, his muscles trembling with barely restrained force. His floating platform buckled, fragments of stone breaking away into the abyss.

Then, without warning—

He moved.

A violent shockwave erupted from him, sending out a force so wild it shattered the ice beneath the Riftwalkers' feet. They barely had time to brace before a spear of raw energy lanced toward them.

“What the hell—?!” Ezra growled, rolling back onto his feet.

Azrikal’s eyes burned with an unnatural glow, his body jerking as if fighting against invisible chains. He clutched at his head, a guttural snarl ripping from his throat.

Zephiron's expression darkened. “He’s losing control.”

The captain didn’t need the warning. Azrikal vanished—or at least, that’s what it looked like. In an instant, he was in front of them, his hand swinging down in a brutal arc. The captain barely got his blade up in time to block, but the force behind the strike was monstrous.

He was fast. Too fast.

The ice beneath them cracked from the impact, fissures splitting outward like jagged scars. The captain gritted his teeth, pushing against the weight pressing down on his blade. Azrikal’s face twisted with raw fury, but beneath it—beneath the wild, unrelenting power—there was something else.

Pain.

Zephiron moved, stepping between Azrikal and the Riftwalkers. His voice was firm, almost commanding. “Azrikal. Control it.”

But Azrikal let out a feral growl, his entire body flickering with unstable energy. He was beyond words now.

Cain barely sidestepped as a jagged arc of energy slammed into the ice beside him, splitting it apart. “He’s not even aiming—he’s tearing through everything!”

Ezra’s blade was already drawn, his stance steady. “Even the beasts have intent. But this—this is something worse.”

Cain turned at the words—too late.

Azrikal vanished, reappearing in a blur of movement. Before Cain could react, a concussive blast erupted from Azrikal’s palm, slamming straight into his chest.

The impact sent Cain flying, his body crashing against a jagged ice wall. A sharp crack echoed as he hit the ground, blood staining the frost beneath him.

Ezra’s eyes widened. “Cain—!”

Azrikal’s breath hitched. His body was trembling violently now, the veins of searing energy splitting further across his arms. He clutched his head, a guttural growl escaping him as he fought against the overwhelming force clawing at his mind.

“Azrikal,” Zephiron’s voice cut through the chaos, calm but firm. “Enough.”

Azrikal’s entire body shuddered. His teeth clenched, the wild power flickering erratically. The shard pulsed in his grasp, glowing fiercely, almost as if it were feeding on his instability.

Zephiron stepped forward, closing the distance with quiet certainty. “It is not yours to wield.”

Azrikal let out a ragged breath, his form flickering. The energy was trying to devour him—but then, with a final tremor, his fingers uncurled.

The Azurefrost Shard slipped from his grasp.

Zephiron caught it effortlessly, and in his hands, the shard’s unstable glow dulled, its raging energy settling into a serene hum. Complete stability.

Azrikal staggered back, the light dimming from his eyes. His breathing was ragged, but he was himself again. He looked at his own trembling hands as if they belonged to someone else.

Zephiron turned, his gaze falling on the captain and his group. “This was not our intent.” His voice was measured, but there was no apology in it—only fact.

Cain groaned, pushing himself up with a wince. Blood dripped from his lip, staining the frost beneath him.

The captain’s grip on his blade tightened. His gaze was locked onto the wound, onto the crimson against the white ice.

“This is over,” Zephiron said, not as a suggestion, but as a statement of fact.

Cain gritted his teeth, wiping the blood from his arm. Ezra’s expression darkened, his stance shifting, but the captain was already a step ahead. His fingers curled into a loose fist, eyes fixed on Zephiron—not with fear, but with intent.

Zephiron observed the defiance with mild interest, as though watching a pack of strays growling over scraps. “I suggest you reconsider,” he said, his voice cool, indifferent. “You are wasting time.”

The captain let out a quiet chuckle, tilting his head. “That so? Because from where I’m standing, you’re the one walking away after attacking us.”

Ezra scoffed. “Yeah, your pet over there lost control, took a swing at Cain, and now you think you can just leave?” His fingers tapped against his blade. “Not how this works.”

Zephiron barely spared him a glance. “Your companion is still standing. You should be grateful.” His eyes shifted back to the captain, unreadable yet firm. “You are beneath my concern.”

The captain’s smirk sharpened. “That right?”

Zephiron exhaled, a faint trace of amusement ghosting across his features. “You are not the first to mistake arrogance for strength. Nor will you be the last.” His fingers flexed slightly around the shard. “Now, step aside.”

The air between them thickened, tension coiling like a drawn bowstring.

The captain’s smirk remained, but his eyes hardened. “You hurt one of mine.” His foot shifted forward. “And you expect me to just let that slide?”

Zephiron regarded them for a long moment before shaking his head, almost pitying. “Then you’ve already lost.”