Winter came early that year.The northern winds howled like beasts, blanketing the Vale plains in sheets of snow and ice. Crops froze before harvest, and even seasoned hunters refused to venture far from the village walls.
Inside the training yard, Arden stood bare-chested despite the cold. His breath misted in the air, rhythmic and steady as he practiced his forms.
Each strike sent a pulse of Qi through the ground, melting the snow beneath his feet. Around him, Mira and Elyndra trained fiercely — their movements fluid and sharp.
"Your stance still trembles," Arden said, stepping behind Mira to adjust her posture. "Balance through your core, not your tail."
"Y-Yes, Master!" she replied, her breath fogging the air.
Elyndra watched silently, her own Qi swirling faintly around her blade. "The air feels… heavier lately. Even the monsters are restless."
Arden nodded. "A storm is coming — not just of snow."
By afternoon, the village alarm bell rang. The sound carried urgency — one reserved only for great danger.
Arden's eyes narrowed. "Bandits?"
A guard stumbled toward him, face pale. "No… worse. Monsters — wolves, ogres, and goblins — coming from the northern pass! Hundreds of them!"
The air seemed to grow colder.
Arden turned to his disciples. "Elyndra. Mira. Gather everyone capable of fighting. We hold the line."
Within the hour, the village transformed into a fortress. Farmers armed themselves with spears and bows. Wooden barricades were raised. Snow whipped across the plains as a low, guttural roar echoed from beyond the ridge.
Mira trembled slightly. "T-There's so many…"
Elyndra steadied her blade. "Then we cut them down one by one."
Arden stood at the front, calm as ever. His eyes scanned the horizon — and there, among the storm, he saw them.
Dozens of monstrous shapes surged forward. Wolves with crimson eyes, goblins wielding crude weapons, and towering ogres crashing through the snow.
"Archers, nock!" Arden commanded. "Wait for my signal."
The guards hesitated. He was only a child — yet his voice carried such authority that none dared to question him.
As the monsters drew closer, Arden raised his hand. His Qi flared — a sharp, golden aura bursting forth.
"Loose!"
Arrows flew like rain. Monsters fell by the dozens, but more poured through.
"Frontline! Brace!"
The barricades shuddered under impact. Spears shattered. Screams filled the air.
Arden drew his knife and leapt forward, a blur of motion slicing through the chaos. His strikes were precise, each blow ending a life cleanly.
Elyndra followed, her blade dancing with wind. Mira darted between enemies, fists crackling with raw Qi.
Despite their youth, they fought like seasoned warriors.
Then came the roar — deeper, louder. From the ridge emerged a massive shadow.
A Frostfang Direwolf, twice the size of a horse, its fur glistening like silver ice.
The villagers froze in terror.
Arden's gaze hardened. So this is the leader.
He stepped forward alone.
"Master!" Mira shouted. "You can't—"
"I can," he said calmly. "Protect the line."
The wolf lunged, claws flashing. Arden ducked beneath its strike, palm striking its chest. Qi burst outward like thunder, sending shockwaves through the snow.
But the beast only staggered, then howled, its body glowing with frost energy.
Arden smirked. "So, you have Mana as well."
He closed his eyes for a brief moment — then, his Qi shifted. It mixed with the surrounding energy, forming a new resonance — Qi-Mana Fusion.
A golden aura surged around him, blazing like fire against the snowstorm.
"Let's see whose spirit breaks first."
The next instant, he vanished. His blade flashed once — then again. The direwolf's head fell to the ground, steam rising from the severed neck.
For a moment, silence reigned. Then cheers erupted across the battlefield.
"The boy did it!"
"He killed the Alpha!"
The monsters, sensing their leader's death, scattered into the blizzard.
The battle was over. Vale Village had survived.
When the snow settled, Arden stood among the wounded, giving quiet orders.
"Gather the injured in the chapel," he said. "Elyndra, Mira — with me."
Inside the chapel, the air was warm with candlelight. A woman in white robes knelt beside the altar, tending to the wounded. Her golden hair shimmered like sunlight, and her gentle hands glowed faintly with divine power.
When she turned, her blue eyes met Arden's.
"You must be the one they call the Child of Qi," she said softly. "I am Seraphina Lysandra, priestess of the Holy Order."
Arden nodded slightly. "You came with the caravan?"
"I came seeking you."
He raised a brow. "Me?"
Seraphina smiled faintly. "A vision guided me — of a boy bathed in golden light, standing amidst snow and blood. The goddess calls you her chosen."
Mira blinked. "Chosen? Master's chosen!?"
Elyndra frowned. "Religious nonsense."
Arden chuckled quietly. "If your goddess truly sent you, then tell me — what does she want from me?"
Seraphina met his gaze, her voice calm but certain.
"She says your path will decide the fate of this world — whether it burns… or ascends."
Her words lingered like frost in the air.
Arden looked toward the shattered gate of the village, where the cold wind blew freely again.
"…Then I'll choose the path myself," he said. "And no god will dictate it for me."
Seraphina smiled gently, bowing her head. "Then perhaps… I have found my faith anew."
That night, as the stars pierced the icy sky, the villagers celebrated their victory. But Arden stood apart, gazing north — beyond the frozen mountains, where an even darker presence stirred.
So it begins.