Frost paced up and down, a deep frown on his face. What should he do? The human, Ezekiel von Hohenheim, had promised to take care of his sister, but where was he now?

The messenger had arrived a while ago, informing him that she would arrive within the next hour. Polaris would visit the marketplace, undoubtedly to take advantage of his recent failure and rile up the tribesmen. If he couldn’t defend himself properly, it would be his end.

“Curse her!”

In a fit of anger, he punched the wall, leaving a deep dent in the stone. As he pulled his fist away, a fine layer of powdered ice clung to the surface—a sign that he had momentarily lost control of his power.

Frost took a deep breath, trying to rein in the anger and panic warring within him. He breathed deeply and steadily, unconsciously slipping into a meditative state. The Ice Blossom meditation technique was the prized possession of his tribe, and Frost had been practicing it since childhood. It had become second nature to him.

Immediately, a cool sensation spread through his body, calming his mind. With each breath, he relaxed further, the anger melting away like snow in spring.

“She just arrived,” a voice called out, interrupting his meditation.

Frost's eyes snapped open to find Coldfang, one of his closest confidants, watching him with a worried gaze. It was time. He got up slowly, trying to project a confidence he didn’t really feel.

“Let’s go,” he said simply, leading the way out of his home. He was living close to the center of the village, so they didn’t have to walk far to reach the marketplace. Even so, at his arrival, he noticed that his sister was already there.

Polaris stood on a raised platform, using a vendor's stall as an impromptu podium. Her long white hair cascaded down to her hips, whipping back and forth as she spoke with fervor. The moment he stepped onto the small plaza, her red eyes locked onto him, and a small smile emerged on her lips.

“There he is,” she declared, her voice carrying far and wide. “Have you finally decided that your people deserve an explanation for your disastrous loss, brother?”

Frost cursed her a thousand times in his mind. Was there a reason to be this ruthless? She had never much cared about familial ties, but to publicly criticize her own brother the day after he narrowly escaped death was a new low, even for her.

“I’ve never had the intention of hiding,” he said, infusing his voice with as much strength as possible.

“Commendable,” Polaris said dryly, though the sneer on the groups of her followers made it abundantly clear that the word wasn’t meant as praise. “Does that mean that you are prepared to take full responsibility?”

Frost straightened up, his spine rigid. “I, Frost, son of Winter, have never shied away from anything, and that won’t change today.”

Polaris's smile widened. “Does that mean that you are prepared to resign as commander of the defense?”

Frost gritted his teeth. “I will naturally resign from my position as soon as a more worthy candidate appears. My priority is and has always been the safety of my people. If there was someone who could better fulfill that role, I wouldn’t hesitate to pass on this responsibility.”

The crowd murmured in approval, but Polaris remained untroubled. If anything, her smirk widened slightly. “An exemplary mindset,” she said. “Then, you wouldn’t mind if I suggested someone for the job?”

Frost had a bad feeling about this, but he wouldn’t go back on his word. Also, if there really was a better candidate, he wouldn’t mind stepping aside. “Sure.”

Polaris raised her hands theatrically. “Fellow tribesmen, you have all suffered, starved, and lost loved ones to this conflict. But know that your anguish has not gone unnoticed…”

The people listened to her sorrowful words with great interest, some nodding along.

“Among all the tribesmen, I can’t think of anyone who empathizes with your suffering more than Elder Claw.” As she spoke, a young man stepped forward from her followers. He was handsome and had a charming smile, but many spectators frowned in response.

‘Elder Claw’ had inherited his position from his father only a few months ago and had no notable achievements of his own. Although he was a decent fighter, he could not match Frost in fame, power, or accomplishments. Most damning of all, he was Polaris's fiancé, which made her suggestion for him to take the position appear like pure nepotism.

It was no wonder the crowd was shocked. This was a nonsensical suggestion.

“Fellow tribesmen, brothers and sisters, I know you have doubts, but believe me when I say that I care deeply about you all,” Elder Claw said, his voice far deeper than one would expect by looking at him. “I am not unreasonable, and I don’t ask for blind trust, or for you to follow me into a senseless death...” He deliberately looked at Frost as he spoke those last words.

“All I ask for is a single chance to prove myself worthy,” he said, bowing deeply.

Some listeners seemed uncertain, wondering if there might be something to this man, but most remained indifferent. Despite his recent failure, Frost was still a skilled fighter, a proven leader, and, most importantly, the son of Winter. The people would not turn their backs on him for such a lackluster alternative.

Seeing this, Frost smiled. It seemed he had overestimated his sister’s schemes. If this was her best effort, today’s incident would pass quickly. However, as if summoned by his thoughts, the situation changed immediately. Elder Claw clapped his hands, and a wagon was pushed forward.

“…To prove my sincerity even further, I’ve asked my people for permission to provide a certain amount of relief to you fine people.” With those words, he tore off the covering of the wagon, revealing a large pile of food. Fruits, cheeses, and a substantial amount of meat. “These are the personal reserves of my family,” he announced proudly. “I hereby vow to share all of them with the tribe, and there will be more deliveries just like this in the coming weeks.”

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

This, more than anything he had said, managed to garner the interest of the tribe. The people were barely able to avert their eyes. Frost cursed inwardly; why were they so easily swayed by this snake? Polaris and her fiance had spent their time in comfort while he, Frost, had stood right next to them, suffered with them—but now they would throw him away for such a pittance.

However, there was nothing he could say. Even though it was obvious that the Elder was bribing them, any words against the offer would be met with criticism. After all, wasn’t it his failings as a leader who had led to their current plight?

“What do you say? Should we have a vote?” Polaris asked.

One by one, the people started to nod.

“Anyone who wants to elect Elder Claw as the new commander of the tribe, please raise your—”

“Halt,” a voice bellowed.

Frost was shocked. He had wanted to protest, but before he could even open his mouth, someone else had done it for him. He turned his head, only to find Ashen Wolf standing there, ringed by his own men, who had seemingly all recovered.

“Who are you?” Polaris asked, visibly displeased.

“I am Ashen Wolf.”

“Never heard of you,” Elder Claw stated. “What family do you hail from?”

“I do not hail from the tribe.”

Elder Claw sneered. “Then what right do you think you have to speak here? Begone, outsider!”

Ashen Wolf remained calm, a slight smile on his face. “I’m not here to cast a vote, but to reveal the truth behind yesterday’s attack. Of course, I’d understand if you’d prefer to keep that hidden—who would vote for you once the truth is out?”

“Nonsense!” Elder Claw bellowed. “Don’t think you can distort the facts, outsider. Frost led dozens of our men to their deaths with nothing to show for it. It’s as simple as that.”

“If that's the case, what harm is there in hearing me out?” Ashen Wolf countered.

Elder Claw shook his head. “I just don’t want you to waste everyone’s time.”

Ashen Wolf didn't reply, instead casting a glance at Frost. Frost understood the unspoken message—it was time for him to step in and trust the human's plan. He hesitated briefly but quickly realized he had little choice. If he let things continue as they were, he would likely lose.

His eyes turned firm. “Let him speak,” he announced. “You’ve had a chance to make your case. Now it is time for me to make mine.”

“You would let someone else speak for you?” Elder Claw asked mockingly.

Frost sneered. “…says the man who came here hiding under my sister’s skirt.”

“Enough!” Polaris interrupted. “If brother Frost wants to let an outsider speak for him, then that is his choice. Speak your part, Ashen Wolf.”

Ashen Wolf inclined his head. “You’ve likely all heard about yesterday’s attack, but if not, let me tell you exactly what happened. Lord Frost, along with his loyal followers and six dozen volunteers, charged the enemy. Despite an initial success, they were soundly defeated and forced to retreat, with many losing their lives in the process.”

The people started to nod, and neither Polaris nor Elder Claw interrupted. After all, these were the facts, without a word of falsehood or embellishment. Frost clenched his fists, thinking of the men he had led to their demise. Why had he been so confident?

“However!” Ashen Wolf continued. “How many of you know about the true purpose of the attack?”

Polaris frowned. “There was no purpose; my brother simply miscalculated.”

Ashen Wolf shook his head. “What kind of sister are you, to speak so badly of your own flesh and blood?”

Polaris bristled. “Tell us then, outsider. Which greater purpose did this disastrous attack serve? What goal could have been worth the slaughter of so many of our kind?”

“There is only one pursuit worthy of such a sacrifice,” Ashen Wolf answered somberly. “The safety of the tribe!”

Polaris scoffed. “Are you really trying to tell us that we are safer now than we were yesterday?”

Ashen Wolf looked squarely at her. “That depends. Lady Polaris, would you agree with the statement that the shortage of food is the biggest threat to the tribe right now?”

"It is," she replied. She couldn’t deny the point, especially since her own candidate had just brought an offering of food. Undermining the value of his gift wouldn't serve her cause.

Hearing her agreement, Ashen Wolf smiled. “Then I am glad to inform you that the tribe is now safe.”

“Lies!” Polaris shouted. But Ashen Wolf paid her no mind. Instead, he raised a single hand—a clear signal. Frost's men, who had been standing by his side, began to move, pushing forward a cart. It was twice the size of the one Elder Claw had brought. Just as Elder Claw had done earlier, Ashen Wolf tore off the blanket, revealing the cart brimming with an assortment of food.

“Is this food a lie as well, Lady Polaris?” Ashen Wolf asked mockingly.

The moment the food was revealed, the crowd erupted with excitement. After being on the brink of starvation for so long, the sudden abundance was overwhelming.

“Where did you get this?” Polaris asked sharply.

Ashen Wolf looked at Frost, making it obvious where the food stemmed from. “Where else?” he asked. “We took it from the enemy.”

Polaris paused, her eyes flashing with anger. But she quickly regained her composure, appearing unfazed by the revelation. “Is that all? You should know this amount of food won’t sustain the tribe for long. Moreover, it's debatable whether this food justifies the loss of so many men. It’s merely a temporary fix to a continuing problem.”

To everyone’s surprise, Ashen Wolf nodded. “Your words ring true, Lady Polaris. This amount of food will not change the outcome of the war, much less will the amount your candidate brought. However, this puny amount of spoils wasn’t the extent of Lord Frost’s plans.”

The crowd looked at Ashen Wolf with eager anticipation. The sight of the food had piqued their interest, and they were keen to believe him. After enduring long periods of hunger and hopelessness, they were desperate to hear about Lord Frost’s supposed brilliant plan to save them.

“Did none of you wonder how Lord Frost managed to retrieve these spoils?” Ashen Wolf asked.

The crowd fell silent, lost in thought. It made sense—Frost had been forced to flee for his life and couldn’t have carried that much food with him. Given the state of his men, it was already a miracle he escaped alive. So how had he managed to bring back this food?

Ashen Wolf didn’t keep them guessing. “Lord Frost might have been too distraught by the loss of his men, but I will not stay silent any longer. The true purpose of yesterday’s assault was not to defeat the enemy but to create a new way for all of you to live.”

The spectators were now utterly focused on his words.

“While he led the main assault, a second team had a different mission. We were tasked with creating a new path, right under the enemy’s noses. This new route lets us bypass our foes and hunt freely again. This is what Lord Frost risked his life for, what he asked the VOLUNTEERS to give their lives for.”

After this announcement, the crowd remained utterly silent. Stunned by what they had learned. Not even Polaris had anything to say. If that was true, then there was nothing she could do. Frost hadn’t returned a fallen commander, but a martyr who was willing to shoulder the greatest risk to ensure the safety of his people.

Suddenly, one spectator began stomping his feet, marching in place. It didn't take long for those around him to join in, amplifying the noise. The movement quickly spread, and soon everyone was participating. Hundreds of feet pounded the ground in unison, creating the sound of a charging army.

Then a single voice shouted, “Frost!” The solitary call was quickly joined by others, and soon the entire crowd was cheering his name. “Frost! Frost! Frost!”

The jubilant atmosphere lasted for a long time as the people released all their pent-up emotions, all their discontent, all their fear. It was over. They had been saved.

Ashen Wolf remained quiet, watching the spectacle with a slight smile. Only after the commotion had died down did he continue. “What do you say, Lady Polaris—should we have a vote now?”