Jiro's body lay on the ground, motionless. His skin was pale, his breathing imperceptible, and for a moment, everything pointed to life having left him.
—Kogorō, trapped inside the cube of spiritual energy created by Ardan, watched him with wide eyes, as if his own soul were being torn away too.
A few meters away, Ardan stood still, calm, with a spiritual energy saber in his right hand.
The weapon emitted a bluish-white glow that vibrated with a terrifying stillness. His gaze, cold and emotionless, was fixed on the trapped spirit.
Kogorō, his face still twisted in rage, summoned his scythe of shadows, a weapon black as the abyss, with veins of darkness pulsing along its blade. His soul roared.
He lunged at Ardan without hesitation, but before he could make contact, Ardan raised a hand and conjured a translucent cube of spiritual light, sealing him inside. Kogorō struck hard, again and again, against the cube's walls.
—Jiro...! Wait for me... Don't worry, I'll help you...
Ardan watched him with disdain. He took a few steps toward the cube, unhurried, with inhuman calm.
—That boy was an obstacle in my path... and that's something I won't tolerate. I struck his nerves with precision. He felt no pain... so he had a peaceful death.
—Damn it... —muttered Kogorō, gritting his teeth—. Jiro... this has to be a lie... Jiro, you can't die like this... Who will release me from my seal...? What will happen to your world...?
A deep anguish overwhelmed him. The pain wasn't physical; it was existential. A fear of disappearing without meaning, without redemption.
—You don't need to worry about that —Ardan smiled sadistically, raising his hand—. I'll make sure to send you to the afterlife.
In his palm, a glowing blue symbol appeared. An ethereal rectangle with a single kanji: "Sky."
Kogorō felt his essence being pulled. The symbol enveloped him, his memories began to fade, his being started to evaporate.
—No... this can't be happening! —he screamed internally—. I need to remember... my past! I don't want to disappear! Not like this!
But just as Ardan reached out to seal him completely…
CRACK!
An invisible fist, loaded with pure force, struck Ardan's cheek and hurled him into a tree, breaking branches, shattering bark.
The spiritual cube disintegrated. Kogorō fell to the ground, gasping, and looked up.
There he was.
Jiro.
Standing, trembling, blood flowing from his chest and abdomen, eyes half open, the spear in a shaking hand.
—Kogorō...? Are you okay...? —Jiro whispered with a raspy voice.
—I'm perfectly fine thanks to you! But you... you don't look good! —he ran to him, trying to support him.
—It's nothing... —Jiro lied, attempting a smile.
—Let's get out of here... —he said, starting to walk with difficulty.
Kogorō floated beside him, alert, worried, though he didn't show it much. The spirit watched him—his aura weakened, his body drained... and yet he was still standing.
—I don't understand how he's still walking... —the spirit thought—. He's pushing his body beyond its limit... If I don't do something soon, he'll bleed out.
But then, Saria appeared. Her thin figure stood in front of them, blocking the path. Her face trembled, her eyes were red.
—No... I won't let you pass... —she said awkwardly, trying to sound determined—. I won't forgive you for what you did to my brother...
—What do you want now... —Jiro muttered, his gaze downcast.
—Better step aside, brat... —Kogorō growled—. We don't have time for you.
—I'll kill you! —Saria shouted, though her voice trembled.
—Your name's Saria, right? —Jiro said, weakly.
—Yes… but we're not here for introductions.
—Look, Saria... stop lying. —Jiro slightly lifted his eyes—. You're not a killer. You stutter, your voice trembles, your hands shake. You scolded your brother when he was ready to kill us. You... you didn't want this. You don't have to be like him. We're not bad, Saria... we don't want to hurt you.
Saria's face crumbled. Her lips trembled. She didn't know what to do.
—Jiro... you... —thought Kogorō, with respect.
—Go heal your brother. And let us go... —Jiro said, walking past her.
—Take care... —Saria murmured.
But suddenly, Kyaaah!
Saria attacked Jiro's back with a pink flame. Without turning, he twisted his body and struck the back of her neck, knocking her unconscious.
—Jiro! That blow was risky for your wound!
—Kogorō... I told you not to worry. See? Alive and kicking —he said, striking a clumsy power pose.
—Hey... think Ardan will wake up?
—I don't know. I hit him hard... I heard your voice and got up.
—My voice? I didn't call for help... well, I did... but you don't need to protect me, kid.
—Hey Kogorō... I'm cold...
—Cold? I don't feel anything. The weather's mild...
—I'm not joking... I'm really cold...
Suddenly, the forest fruits began to freeze. The temperature dropped sharply. Jiro hugged himself, shivering. Snowflakes began to fall, and the ground was blanketed in white. A blizzard approached from the horizon.
—What is this...? —Kogorō shouted—. This isn't natural...!
—Of course not... —Jiro replied, shivering.
Kogorō rose above the trees and was left breathless.
A mass of gray clouds stretched across the sky. A storm was brewing. Hailstones the size of rocks fell, and a cold wind like no other swept the area.
—Jiro, we have to go now! This isn't normal magic! It's primordial energy... ancient... dangerous!
Jiro, pale, felt his soul freezing from the inside.
Jiro felt the cold gnawing at him from the inside, as if thousands of icy needles were slowly piercing his organs.
The air was missing, it hurt to breathe, and for a moment he thought his heart would stop right there. The world around him began to change… everything turned white.
The trees, blackened by winter, turned bluish white; the leaves, the fruits… everything was covered in silent frost.
Snow blanketed the ground in thickness, making each step difficult. A fierce wind swept through the area, lifting flakes that clouded the view. It was like walking inside a never-ending storm.
Jiro's red horns began to slowly freeze, shiny fragments creeping up like frozen vines. The boy could barely murmur:
—I'm... I'm freezing...
Beside him, the unconscious bodies of Saria and Ardan also began to freeze, their eyelashes covered in frost, their lips blue.
Kogorō, the fox spirit, floated unaffected by the cold, but his expression was one of concern. Just as Jiro fell to his knees in the snow, too weak to move, the unexpected happened.
A black door, tall and made of shiny wood, appeared out of nowhere, materializing before him like a beacon in the storm.
From it emerged a man wearing glasses held by elastic bands, a fur hat, thick boots, and a leather coat. On his back, a backpack loaded with tools and supplies.
—I made it just in time —he said firmly, offering his hand to Jiro—. Get in, kid, now!
Jiro, weak and wounded, looked up. He didn't have many options. He barely managed to grab the stranger's hand, but before he could step inside, Kogorō shouted:
—GET IN NOW, JIRO!
Inside, the cabin was warm, cozy, with animal hides on the floor, a burning fireplace, weapons, arrows, ropes, provisions... it was another world. Jiro barely understood how that door connected to this place.
But just as the man was about to close the door, Jiro looked back.
There, in the freezing hell, were Saria and Ardan. Half-frozen, still. The storm could kill them in minutes.
—What are you doing, Jiro? —Kogorō shouted, approaching—. Are you insane?! Close the door!
—I need to close it or the whole cabin will freeze —added the man—. These are deadly temperatures, kid!
Jiro clenched his fists. The ice burned, but his heart burned hotter.
—But Saria and Ardan! They're going to die out there...!
—Let them die —said Kogorō coldly—. Especially Ardan. He nearly killed you! Have you already forgotten?
—I know —Jiro replied—. But... something tells me I have to save them.
—There's no time for this! —the man said.
Kogorō shot him an intense look.
—Don't go, Jiro...
But Jiro stepped back. He turned to them and said firmly:
—I'm sorry, Kogorō. But it's my duty to help those in need.
And he walked back into the snow, determined. The wind lashed at him, but he didn't stop. He reached Saria and Ardan, grabbed them as best he could, one over each shoulder, and walked back.
His chest bled, his stomach too, the wounds reopened with every step... but he didn't stop.
—COME ON! —he shouted through gasps and pain.
Finally, he crossed the door. The man slammed it shut.
—You almost froze us all, kid! —he growled angrily.
—He's right! —Kogorō added—. That was reckless and dangerous!
Jiro dropped Saria and Ardan's bodies on the rug. He gasped, breathless.
—I don't know... I just... thought about it and did it...
The man looked at him with concern.
—Hey, kid, are you okay? You're bleeding...
The voices faded. Jiro looked at his hands, covered in blood. His chest… his stomach…
—Ko... Kogorō... sorry...
And he collapsed.
Darkness.
Once again.
He saw himself in a field of golden wheat, warm, endless, and in the distance, an old church under a bright sun. A soft voice whispered:
—Keichi... wake up... please wake up...
The voice wasn't a man's... it was a girl's. Familiar. Close.
Jiro ran toward the church. And just as he was about to reach it...
He woke up.
Sweating, without his robe, only in pants, in a bed inside the cabin. He sat up quickly, agitated. He saw Saria and Ardan still unconscious, but breathing. He approached them.
—Relax —said Kogorō—. They're fine. We warmed them up, now they rest.
The man also approached.
—If I hadn't arrived just in time, you all would've frozen to death. Especially you, kid. The temperatures were lethal. But you managed to bring them... you saved them.
Jiro looked at him in surprise.
—Are you serious?
—Super serious! —the man replied—. I thank you. Thanks to you, we saved two lives. You're a hero, kid.
Jiro lowered his gaze, blushing.
—Hey... how did you know about us?
Kogorō looked at him with doubt too.
—Yeah, how did you find our location? And that door?
The man smiled.
—Well, I'm a medic, I was collecting medicinal herbs. I saw Kogorō's silhouette in the air, and when I noticed the storm, I thought maybe someone needed help. And about the door... —he pulled a small silver key from his pocket—.
It's a dimensional key I found in a dungeon. You can link it to your home, and it opens anywhere in the world. Transport magic... very useful.
Jiro's eyes lit up.
—That's the coolest thing I've ever seen!
The man laughed.
—I'm glad you think so.
Kogorō shook his head.
—Unbelievable... if I hadn't flown so high, you wouldn't have seen me... and Jiro would be dead.
They looked at each other. Silence. Warmth.
They had survived.
The icy wind intensified, as if the very sky responded to the tension in the air. Kogorō frowned, the snow lashing his face relentlessly, and raised his voice toward the old man:
—Sir… how is something like this even possible? This storm isn't natural... I can smell mana in the air. This isn't just snowfall, it's magic… someone is causing it. We need to know what's happening in this world.
The man, his eyes sunken with age, trembled slightly. But it wasn't the cold. It was fear. Pain. Resignation.
—Exactly… —he whispered hoarsely—. You're right, young man. This is no natural phenomenon. All of this… is caused by a person. Or rather… by something that once was a person.
Elliott swallowed hard, and for the first time, fear became words:
—This… is the work of the Hail King.
A deathly silence fell between the three. Only the roar of the wind and the cracking of ice breaking distant branches responded.
—Hail King…? —murmured Jiro, his voice trembling—. What do you mean by "everything will be"? Who exactly is that person?
—I'd like to understand more about him too —added Kogorō, narrowing his eyes.
Elliott took a deep breath. His lips curved into an expression of ancient sorrow.
—The Hail King is the cause of these storms. But they aren't ordinary storms. They're a warning… a foretaste of the end. This world, boys, will no longer be as you knew it. Everything… absolutely everything, will be ice.
—What are you saying…? —Jiro stepped back.
—He… comes from a place called the Winter of Eden —Elliott continued—. A kingdom made of an immense garden, eternally frozen. Everything there is white, cold, and... dead. A dead paradise.
He paused, lowering his head.
—My name is Elliott. Elliott Ashfield… and, in truth, I don't belong to this world. Not in the way you think. I've been living here… 150 years.
—One hundred and fifty!? —Jiro and Kogorō exclaimed in unison, their faces full of astonishment.
—Your body… doesn't look that old —said Jiro, confused.
—I don't understand it either —Elliott admitted—. Once, in my world, while walking through a forest, I found a rift. It looked like a shattered mirror in the air. When I touched it… I was pulled in. And ever since then… I've been here. I never saw my world again.
—Then it was a dimensional fissure… —murmured Jiro—. You should be grateful you ended up in a stable world. Many don't survive being swallowed by one.
Kogorō clenched his fists and exclaimed seriously:
—We're getting off-topic. Focus!
Elliott nodded regretfully.
—I'm sorry. Back to the Hail King… no one has ever seen his face. Those who have… were frozen instantly. His ice magic and power are infinite.
He even froze the moon, even all the celestial bodies in this Universe. That's why the nights are so deadly now… no warmth, no hope. Only glaciers… and death.
Jiro swallowed hard.
—He froze the moon…?
—He covers the universe in his eternal frost. His heart… is frozen too. Since the day he lost his beloved.
—What does that have to do with all this? —asked Kogorō, confused.
Elliott lowered his gaze.
—He was human. A man… who fell in love with a witch. And she… was murdered.
Silence returned. Heavier, sadder.
Somewhere in the world, among eternal glaciers...
A figure moved through the storm. Each step made the ground crack, freezing even more at his touch. His armor was imposing, covered in frost, as heavy as his soul.
Between the gaps of his helmet, his eyes glowed with a dim blue, lifeless, cold… filled with rage and unfathomable sorrow.
The Entity walked through a frozen valley, stopping before a gigantic tree made entirely of pure ice. Its roots coiled over the skeleton of a dragon so immense… it could have carried a kingdom on its back.
The being looked up at the tree. His voice echoed like an ancient blizzard, low and broken.
—Are you satisfied now… Hanimesh? —he whispered—. Are you?
The wind answered with a lament.