The hush of Frostbound Village pressed in on Kai as he crossed the threshold of the broken stone arch. Lantern light danced on snow-cracked roofs and curled around shuttered windows, each glow promising warmth—and whispered tales of fear. Steam hissed from chimneys, carrying the scent of roasted roots and wolf fat to his chilled nostrils.
Arina, the village's runecrafter, led him to the breach in the northern wall. Six rune-stones lay shattered in the frost, their magic draining away like spilled blood. "These once powered our ward," she said, voice low enough that only Kai could hear. "Binding magic here demands balance: every glyph you restore draws from your own life force. Overdo it… and you'll become part of the ice."
Kai's heart thundered. No respawns. No second chances.
Arina handed him a charcoal-wrapped scroll and a pinch of ice-salt. Kneeling, Kai closed his eyes and traced the first rune's shape in the snow. The cold stung his fingertips, but he breathed through it—focusing on the pattern as if facing a raid boss. The glyph flared into life, then pulsed steadily, returning its power to his veins.
Rune after rune followed, each more complex than the last. When his hand shook hardest at the fifth symbol, he drew on memory and will, recalling every perfect rotation and timing cue. Finally, the sixth rune glowed like a beating heart.
A beam of cerulean light shot skyward, knitting broken stones into place. The villagers exhaled as one; torches brightened, and the wall's rune-channel hummed with renewed strength.
But victory's echo barely faded before a distant rumble rolled over the ridge. Ice-borne war drums, deep and deliberate.
Arina gripped Kai's arm. "They breach in minutes."
He slid the staff's crystal into his palm. Its pulse matched his racing heartbeat. Beyond the wall's edge, hulking Frostborne beasts emerged, their icy hides glittering under the moons.
Kai drew a steady breath. No interface—no magic bar to refill. "Stand with me!" he shouted. Raising the staff, he summoned a jet of molten flame that hissed as it met the winter air. The foremost beast recoiled, steam rising where fire met ice.
Steel rang on bone as villagers braced their pikes. Kai met the next charge head-on, striking true and sending shards of ice scattering.
But the horde pressed onward. Kai felt the crystal's warmth falter—his life's ember dimming. He clenched teeth, dug deep, and roared: "Dragon's Wrath!"
A wave of crimson fire rolled forth, forging a blazing path through the Frostborne. Their snarls turned to screams as they fell back, and silence shattered the night.
At the edge of the clearing, a monstrous frost drake rose on twisted legs, wings unfurled, eyes burning with ancient hunger. Kai widened his stance, every muscle coiled.
The real battle had only just begun.