The cold was unbearable, a piercing chill that could revive the dead! Damn it, who left the window open? Don't they realize how freezing it is? I angrily sat up, flinging aside the icy blanket. If I didn’t close that window, there was no way I’d get any sleep tonight.
But when I reached out, my hand grasped nothing but air. That sudden emptiness jolted me fully awake, pulling me out of the dream world and back into reality. I realized I wasn’t in a cozy inn bed but lying on a sheet of ice, in a world of snow and frost.
The light around me was sufficient to see clearly; above, below, and in every direction, all I could see was ice and snow. It seemed I had fallen into an ice cavern.
“What on earth happened?” I tried to recall, only to be met with a sharp pain in my head. Oh, right—I was casting a paralyzing spell when something struck my head. Then, I ended up here… Damn it, it hurts! I gingerly touched my head, feeling the bruise forming beneath my mask. Though I couldn’t see it, I knew a nasty bump was there. The familiar sting of a magical weapon confirmed it—I had been hit by Raith’s magic stone attack. That bastard managed to strike me accurately in the dark! Although I couldn’t fathom his motives, using a low-level spell to disrupt an opponent’s casting was a clever tactic. Underestimating him—or rather, lacking the will to fight—cost me this painful bruise and landed me in this freezing tomb. Now that I think about it, I regret not fleeing immediately instead of trying to cast a spell.
Why am I here? As I walked through the icy corridor, I pondered the question. It was strange—could I be dead? I rounded a corner, and the path ahead opened into a wide chamber, resembling a grand hall. Icicles hung like chandeliers, refracting a mysterious light from an unknown source, casting a rainbow of colors. If I were here as an adventurer, I might have stopped to admire the beauty, but there was no time for that now. My priority was finding a way out of this cursed place, or I would freeze to death.
Suddenly, I heard the sound of hurried footsteps—someone was running towards me. Instinctively, I assumed a defensive stance. In a place like this, encountering monsters was not unusual. I remembered the ice giants that inhabited such environments.
A figure appeared within my sight, though it was initially a mere reflection on the icy walls. I summoned the fireball spell to the forefront of my mind, ready to cast it at a moment's notice. Creatures living in snow and ice must surely fear fire...
“Mr. Ryder!” Brian’s voice rang out with relief. He ran towards me, his tone that of someone who had found a lifeline in a terrifying situation.
“Brian? How did you end up here?” The spell in my mind dissipated. This boy… Suddenly, I realized that escaping this place had just become twice as difficult.
“I don’t know!” He reached me, arms outstretched as if to embrace me but stopped midway, standing there with a helpless expression. “That necromancer released a shroud of darkness, and then... then a silver light flashed, and suddenly, I was here!” His words were rushed, stuttering with excitement. “I was looking around—there are so many… so many bodies over there!”
“Bodies?”
“Lots of them…”
I knelt down, carefully examining one of the corpses. The deceased appeared to be around fifty, dressed in a simple mage’s robe. His body was completely rigid, frozen solid in this frigid environment. The ice had fused his clothes to his body, making the examination difficult. This man—or rather, this mage—had not died from external injuries. At least, I couldn’t find any signs of trauma on his corpse.
The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
There were many more bodies around, some already merged with the ice. I inspected a few more—they all seemed to have died under the same mysterious circumstances. But what could have killed so many mages at once, or perhaps in waves?
“Were they… frozen to death?” Brian’s question made me feel the cold I had temporarily forgotten due to curiosity. How absurd—how could a mage freeze to death? This ice cavern, though cold, wasn’t severe enough to kill someone instantly. Any mage capable of casting a teleportation spell could leave at any moment! Frozen to death? If anyone died of the cold here, it only meant they were utterly incompetent!
“Master!” Brian suddenly cried out, rushing towards the ice wall, but his body was blocked by the transparent yet solid ice. I looked in the direction he was facing and saw a figure encased within the ice—a man in his forties or fifties. Preserved in the ice, his appearance remained eerily intact, almost as if he were still alive. The peaceful expression on his face suggested that he had died without suffering.
“Master!…” Brian shouted desperately, clawing at the ice wall as if trying to tear through the unyielding ice.
The boy collapsed to his knees, his hands leaving red streaks on the crystalline surface. His head hung low, his throat convulsing as he choked back sobs, but all he could produce were incoherent, guttural sounds. I said nothing to console him—not because I didn’t want to, but because I didn’t know how. Everyone faces moments like this, and the pain the grieving experience is something bystanders can never truly understand. Ever since I began my travels, I had witnessed such scenes many times, and my reaction was always the same—to stand silently by, waiting.
He remained there, unmoving, like a statue. If he stayed like that much longer, his hands would freeze to the ice.
I stepped forward and forcefully pulled him up. He offered no resistance, weakly struggling as I lifted him to his feet.
“Your master,” I said, gesturing to the figure in the ice, “is dead. But you are still alive! If you continue like this, you’ll soon join him. Think about it—do you believe your master would want to see you like this?” I infused my voice with all the coldness I could muster.
“Take your time here. When you’re ready to leave, let me know.” I turned away, avoiding the sight of the boy’s tear-streaked face—now frozen into tiny crystals. Once, there was another young apprentice who spent his days weeping at his mother’s grave, his tearful expression much like Brian’s.
I turned back, gazing at the ice wall in front of me, waiting in silence.
A small hand timidly tugged at my sleeve.
“Are you ready?” I asked, looking at the boy’s face. He had wiped away his tears, his sorrow now hidden beneath a new, determined expression that had never before graced his youthful features.
“Yes.”
“By the way,” I finally remembered the pressing question, “what happened to your master?”
“He joined the second expedition to hunt down the necromancer,” Brian answered in a low voice, “the one sent to attack the necromancer.”
So that was it—all these mages were part of the expedition! No wonder there were so many of them. If that’s the case, this must be where the necromancer stored the bodies of his enemies! But something doesn’t add up. The expedition couldn’t have been composed of only mages—where are the warriors who accompanied them? Could it be that the twisted necromancer had a morbid fascination with collecting the corpses of mages he killed? And I was brought here because he thought I was dead? It makes sense, but something still feels off.
I reexamined the corpse from earlier. There were no wounds, no signs of magic damage—nothing to indicate what had caused his death. It was as if he had simply stayed here until he slowly froze to death… How bizarre. How did the necromancer kill so many mages? It seems best to avoid him in the future! Next time—no, there won’t be a next time. I need to leave this country as soon as possible. I have no desire to become another trophy in that maniac’s collection!
“Take one last look at your master—you’ll never see him again after we leave.” I said this to Brian, but he shook his head resolutely. The boy tried to appear strong, but as I turned to cast the spell, he glanced back—toward his master’s frozen remains.
As I began chanting, the power of the spell started to gather. Soon, two people with completely different goals would be leaving this place together!
Suddenly, the spell was interrupted—the teleportation portal refused to form! I was certain it wasn’t my mistake; I hadn’t miscast the spell. Some force was interfering, protecting this icy tomb, preventing anyone trapped inside from escaping!