Point Of View: Gregor Olindar

It was cold. I couldn’t feel my legs, and with every breath, icy vapor escaped my mouth. My consciousness wavered, fading in and out frequently. It was hard to believe I would die like this. The girl I had trained for only two weeks had become exactly what the king needed her to be: a weapon, a monster. But with this power, would the king truly be able to control her?

I slowly turned my face toward the girl. She was lying face down on the ground. Everything around us was frozen: the ground, the vegetation, our soldiers, and that damned creature that had attacked us. Where had it come from? An owlbear shouldn’t be here, this close to the capital. But that wasn’t my concern; Abimael would probably investigate it. That is, if I managed to report it, if I managed to survive.

I closed my eyes, trying to force myself to stay conscious. I couldn’t speak or scream, and I was running out of hope. How much time had passed? Not knowing what else to do, I whispered a prayer. A man of little faith, praying. "Elyria, goddess of life, please, if you are listening, help me hold on until someone... No, until that red-haired man rescues me. He will certainly do so."

I remained silent for what felt like a long time. I had no idea how much time had passed. I opened my eyes to check if the girl had awakened, but what I saw surprised me. She was no longer there. Had she left me here? Gone to seek help? Well, surely someone would come. I just needed to hold on. "Goddess Elyria, grant me your blessing of life, help me endure." I used my mana signature to reinforce my body, focusing on my legs, which I could no longer feel.

I closed my eyes again. The cold was draining my energy. What kind of magic was this? She combined two different elements. I had never seen a mage do that before. Abimael certainly had many tricks up his sleeve, it seemed. My thoughts faded. I had no energy left, not even to think. My mind was now consumed by the ice and cold, deeply rooted in my body and soul.

I felt warmth spreading through me. Finally, the goddess had sent her blessing. I took a deep breath, gathering the strength to open my eyes. The first thing I saw was Lord Lorian Vellorn using his magic to free me from the ice.

"So, you're awake. I’m almost done. Save your strength; you’ll be returning to the capital soon." The sound of his voice filled me with comfort. This man was certainly reliable. Abimael didn’t like him, but my soldiers adored him.

I felt my body collapse forward, only to be caught by someone. My head rested against something metallic—a cold suit of armor. I was growing tired of this cold.

"Come on, you two, carry him to the camp. He needs warmth." The red-haired man's voice filled the air once more.

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"But, my lord, isn’t there a way to save the others who are frozen?" Garrick's voice sounded pleading. He was one of my most loyal soldiers, always prioritizing the safety of his comrades.

"Look, there’s no point in saving corpses. The only one, aside from Gregor, who would survive after being thawed is that beast right there, and at least I don’t want to be around when that happens." The redhead responded dryly. Considering that five men had been unable to even scratch that thing, it was probably a mutant. Lord Lorian Vellorn was right to be cautious. "Once we return to the capital, we can send men to retrieve the bodies and provide them with a proper burial." He concluded. Truly, a nobleman to be admired.

I felt my heavy body being dragged. My arms were slung over cold, metallic shoulders, sending a terrifying shiver up my spine. The sensation in my legs had returned, but I still couldn’t feel my feet. The pain, once numbed by the cold, returned. My right shoulder was throbbing.

After some time being dragged along, I opened my eyes and saw light. The soldiers were all approaching, positioning themselves around us. Their expressions were a mixture of concern, sorrow, and shame. They laid me down near the fire, inside a sleeping bag. I saw Lorian’s butler undressing me. I glanced at my feet—purple and lifeless.

"He’ll have to amputate." I heard Lorian speaking with my men. "Two of you will take him on horseback to the capital immediately. The other three, including the girl, will continue with me to Drankenville." I turned my head to the side and saw Kaori lying there as well, still unconscious. This was the end of my career as a swordsman, all because of this girl—this monster created by the king and Abimael.

Garrick approached and sat beside me. Tears rolled down my face. Damn it! If only I had been a little stronger...

"Captain, it's okay. Everything worked out, you're safe."

That wasn’t what had made me sad.

"Will I lose my feet?" I already knew the answer, but I needed to hear someone say it. Garrick remained silent for a few minutes before answering.

"I’m sorry, Captain. But listen, I know a craftsman who makes unique prosthetics. You’ll still be able to hold a sword." Classic Garrick. He understood my concerns, but that didn’t bring me any relief. Foot balance was fundamental for a swordsman. Moreover, my right shoulder was shattered.

"Garrick, the girl…" There was something that needed to be done, something that could be considered treason. Only my most loyal man could do it.

"She’s fine, don’t worry, Captain. She just exhausted herself by casting multiple different runes. That’s what Lord Lorian said." Garrick interrupted me, but that wasn’t what I wanted to talk about.

"No, Garrick, listen to me. The girl, you need to..." I was interrupted again, this time by the redhead.

"Captain, you’re awake. You’ll be leaving soon. Your soldiers will take you to the capital. There’s no time to waste." He looked at me and at Kaori. It felt as if he was seeing right through me. "Soldier, take Kaori to rest inside my carriage, please."

Garrick stood up, walked over to the little monster, and picked her up in his arms like a princess in distress, obeying Lorian's order without hesitation. There was nothing more I could do in this situation.