Chapter 31: Frost and Fury
**THE NORTHERN HOLDS - ONE WEEK LATER**
Snow fell in sheets that turned the world into a monochrome painting.
The Northern Holds stretched before them—jagged peaks crowned with ice, valleys filled with frozen silence, and somewhere in that white expanse, twenty-four Frost Trolls who'd killed twenty-two adventurers and thought themselves untouchable.
They were about to learn otherwise.
Hexia stood at the front of the group, his breath misting in air cold enough to freeze exposed skin in minutes. Behind him, five others prepared for battle with the casual efficiency of people who'd done this before.
One week. One contract. Thirty Dire Hounds dead, their materials safely stored in Durgan's enchanted bags, currently being processed into legendary weapons by craftsmen who'd never seen components of such quality.
"Twenty-four Frost Trolls." Hexia's voice cut through the wind. "They got regeneration capabilities, which means we'll need overwhelming damage or complete destruction. Decapitation alone won't work—they'll just reattach their damaged limbs."
"So we burn them?" Lhoralaine asked, bouncing slightly to keep warm.
"Fire helps. But the real trick is we need to deal a lot of damage that they can't regenerate fast enough." He turned to face them. "Nerissa—your void magic ignores regeneration entirely. You're primary offense."
Nerissa nodded, her violet hair already collecting snowflakes. "Understood."
"Sirenia—lightning has secondary burn effects. Use it liberally. Durgan—explosives. Lots of explosives. Durin—your electrical properties will help. Lhoralaine—" He met her eyes. "The leader is yours. As promised."
Her grin was fierce despite the cold. "I won't disappoint."
"I know." There was something in his tone—trust, maybe, or confidence in her capability. "Everyone else supports her when she engages. The leader will be twice the size of normal trolls, three times as strong, and smart enough I think."
"How do you know it's smart?" Durgan asked, already transforming Pandora's Box into something that looked disturbingly explosive.
"Because it's kept twenty-four trolls organized and alive despite adventurer pressure. That requires intelligence." Hexia's crimson eyes scanned the treeline. "Which makes it dangerous. Don't underestimate it."
A roar split the frozen air—deep, guttural, the sound of something massive and angry announcing its presence.
"Contact." Hexia's hand moved to his sword hilt. "Remember the plan. Lhoralaine—wait for my signal before engaging the leader. We soften it first."
"How much softening?" She was practically vibrating with anticipation.
"Until it's missing at least two limbs. Then it's yours."
"That's the best present anyone's ever given me."
"Your standards are concerning."
"Your face is concerning."
"That doesn't make sense."
"Neither does fighting regenerating ice monsters, but here we are."
Nerissa stepped between them before the banter could escalate. "Focus. They're coming."
And they were.
**WAVE ONE: THE VANGUARD**
Six Frost Trolls emerged from the snowstorm—massive creatures, each one twelve feet tall, covered in thick white fur and ice-blue skin. Their muscles were corded steel. Their claws were jagged ice. And their eyes held predatory hunger.
They moved with surprising speed for their size, snow exploding under their feet.
"Mine!" Nerissa's voice carried authority.
"ARTILLERY MAGIC!"
Six void projectiles materialized—spheres of absolute nothingness that ignored the physical barriers of fur and ice and flesh. They passed through the Frost Trolls' bodies like ghosts passing through walls.
Then detonated internally.
The first troll's chest cavity exploded outward—ribs and organs and frozen blood spraying across the snow. It collapsed mid-stride, regeneration trying desperately to knit organs that had been liquefied.
Too slow.
The second troll's head exploded from internal pressure. Brain matter scattered. The body stood for three heartbeats before toppling.
The third, fourth, and fifth trolls died similarly—internal detonations that destroyed so much tissue simultaneously that regeneration couldn't keep pace.
The sixth troll was smarter. It dove behind a boulder the moment it saw its companions die.
"GLUTTONOUS VOID!"
A sphere of absolute nothingness appeared beside the boulder. It touched the stone, and the stone simply *ceased to exist*—not shattered, not vaporized, just *gone*. Erased from reality.
The sphere grew larger, consuming more matter, then found the hiding troll.
The creature tried to run.
The void was faster.
It touched the troll's leg—and the leg vanished. Then the torso. Then the head. The troll didn't scream. There was no time. It simply stopped existing, consumed by hungry darkness that left nothing behind.
"Six down!" Nerissa's voice was steady. "Eighteen to go!"
"Second wave!" Sirenia called from her elevated position. "Eight incoming from the west!"
**WAVE TWO: THE PRESSURE**
Eight Frost Trolls charged from different angles—learning from their fallen companions, spreading out to avoid area attacks.
"Spread formation!" Hexia's command was sharp. "Don't let them isolate anyone!"
But these trolls were smarter. They didn't just charge—they *coordinated*. Three moved to flank Durgan's position. Two targeted Sirenia directly. Three more angled toward Hexia and Nerissa.
"ARC LIGHTNING!"
Electricity chained between the two trolls approaching Sirenia's elevated rock. The voltage was catastrophic—muscles seized, hearts stopped, nervous systems fried.
They collapsed twitching, smoke rising from their bodies.
But Frost Trolls regenerated.
Even as they lay dying, their tissues were already knitting back together. Hearts restarting. Neurons reforming.
"They're getting back up!" Sirenia's voice carried warning.
"STORM CRAZE!"
The massive electrical hammer manifested and crashed down on both recovering trolls simultaneously. The impact didn't just kill—it *pulverized*. Bones became powder. Flesh became paste. What remained couldn't regenerate because there wasn't enough tissue left to work with.
"Two more down! Eight dead total!"
The three trolls flanking Durgan's position made their fatal mistake—they bunched together.
Durgan's grin was maniacal."BOMBS AWAY, PUNKS!"
"ARTILLERY BARRAGE!"
Pandora's Box transformed into three massive howitzers. Each barrel was the size of a man's torso. The ammunition was enchanted with explosive, fire, and concussive properties.
The sound was apocalyptic.
Three hundred fifty rounds per minute per barrel. Over a thousand shells in the first ten seconds.
The trolls didn't die—they *vanished*. Erased by sustained artillery fire that turned flesh and bone into red mist and shattered fragments. The snow around the impact zone melted from the heat, revealing scorched earth beneath.
"THREE MORE DOWN! ELEVEN TOTAL!"
The remaining three trolls charging Hexia and Nerissa were fast—too fast to avoid entirely.
One reached Hexia.
Its claws raked across his chest—tearing through cloth and armor and flesh. Blood sprayed. Pain flared white-hot.
"Noted," Hexia said calmly.
Then his sword moved.
**Guillotine.**
The troll's head separated from its shoulders. Clean. Perfect. The body stood for a heartbeat before collapsing.
But the head was already regenerating—tissue sprouting from the severed neck, reaching back toward the body, trying to reattach.
"HEAL!"
White light flooded from Hexia's hand—but not toward the troll. Toward himself. His chest wound sealed instantly, tissue knitting back together at the cellular level.
The troll's head finished reattaching. It stood, roaring defiance—
Hexia's sword moved again.
This time he didn't stop at decapitation.
"Omni Slash!"
Multiple strikes from all directions simultaneously. Each one lethal. Each one perfectly placed.
The troll was bisected vertically. Then horizontally. Then diagonally. Then again. And again.
What remained wasn't a body—it was *pieces*. Too many pieces. Too separated. Regeneration tried and failed, tissue reaching for tissue that was too far away, too damaged, too *gone*.
The troll died in sections, each piece twitching independently before finally stilling.
"Twelve down!"
The last two trolls facing Nerissa were trying to retreat—intelligent enough to recognize overwhelming force when they saw it.
"OH NO you don't!"Nerissa's Grin was almost as enthusiastic as durgan's.
"REVERSE POLARITY!"
Nerissa's hammer slammed into the ground. A vacuum formed, dragging everything toward her in a massive radius. Snow, rocks, trees—
And two fleeing Frost Trolls.
They were pulled backward despite trying desperately to run, their feet sliding across ice, unable to gain purchase against the irresistible pull.
Nerissa was waiting.
Her hammer met the first troll's skull with catastrophic force. The impact collapsed its entire head inward—skull fragments driven into brain tissue, eyes bursting from pressure, the whole structure compressing to nothing.
The second troll reached for her with desperate claws—
"Let me give you my flying kisses!"
"GREED CONSUMING VOID!"
Multiple smaller voids appeared, seeking targets independently. They bit chunks from the troll—arm, leg, torso, head. Each bite grew the voids slightly, making them hungrier, more aggressive.
The troll was consumed piece by piece, eaten alive by darkness that left no corpse behind.
"Fourteen down!" Nerissa's voice carried satisfaction. "Ten to go! Dang Hell aren't I great—"
"Third wave!" Durin's voice was thunder. "Nine incoming—and the LEADER!"
**WAVE THREE: THE ALPHA**
Nine Frost Trolls emerged from the snowstorm.
And leading them was something that defied description.
The Frost Troll Leader stood *twenty feet tall*—twice the size of its subordinates. Its fur was pure white, almost luminous against the snow. Muscles like steel cables. Claws like frozen swords. And its eyes—
Its eyes held *intelligence*. Not animal cunning. Actual intelligence. It understood tactics. Strategy. It had watched fourteen of its kind die and learned from their mistakes.
And it was *angry*.
"There!" Hexia pointed. "Lhoralaine—that's yours. But wait."
"How long?!"
"Until we remove two limbs first. Everyone—focus fire on the leader! Lhoralaine holds back until my signal!"
The nine trolls charged.
The leader stayed behind, watching, learning.
"TRY THIS ON FOR SIZE!!"Durgan's Pandoras box transformed again"MISSILE TURRET!"
Six missiles streaked from Durgan's transformed weapon, targeting the charging subordinates.
Explosions bloomed across the snowfield. Three trolls died instantly—vaporized by heat and force. Two more were caught in the blast radius, severely wounded, regeneration struggling.
"Five down! Nineteen total dead!"
"**HAMMERANG!**
Durin's electrified hammers flew, spinning through the air like circular saws. The first caught a wounded troll in the torso, the impact and electricity combining to shut down its regeneration permanently. The second hammer took another troll's legs off at the knees.
The legless troll tried to crawl—
"ARC LIGHTNING!"
Sirenia's electricity found it. Muscles seized. Heart stopped. Brain fried. No regeneration could overcome complete neurological destruction.
"Seven down! Twenty-one total!"
The remaining two subordinate trolls realized they were going to die.
They charged Hexia directly—last desperate attempt.
"Mine," Hexia said quietly.
His sword moved.
**Guillotine** on the first troll. Head rolled.
**Tyrant's Plea** on the second—gravity multiplied a hundred times. Bones shattered under the pressure. Internal organs ruptured. Blood vessels burst. The troll collapsed into itself, crushed by invisible weight.
"Nine subordinates dead!" Hexia's voice carried across the battlefield. "Twenty-three total! One remains!"
And the Frost Troll Leader roared—sound and fury and rage that shook snow from trees and sent avalanches cascading down distant peaks.
It charged.
Not at Hexia. Not at Nerissa.
At the weakest link—Durgan, who'd just expended his missile ammunition.
"DURGAN!" Nerissa's warning came too late.
The leader was *fast*—impossibly fast for its size. It covered the distance in seconds, massive claws raised to tear the engineer apart.
"LET'S DANCE!!"Durgan maniacally roaring"GATLING GUN! YIEEHAHAHA!"
Pandora's Box transformed mid-charge. Six barrels emerged, rotating, glowing.
Five hundred rounds per second poured into the Frost Troll Leader.
The creature staggered—not from pain, but from sheer kinetic force. Bullets tore through flesh, shattered bone, pulped muscle.
But it kept coming.
Regeneration was already working—tissue knitting together even as more bullets tore it apart.
"THAT'S NOT WORKING!" Durgan's voice pitched higher. "SOMEONE HELP!"
"CHAOS METEOR!"
Hexia's voice cut through the chaos. His hand rose, black and crimson energy coalescing into a sphere above his palm.
The sphere shot skyward, disappearing into the clouds.
For three heartbeats, nothing happened.
Then the sky *screamed*.
A massive meteor of black and crimson energy tore through the atmosphere, burning the air itself. It grew larger as it descended—impossibly large, blotting out what little sun penetrated the storm.
The Frost Troll Leader looked up.
And for the first time, fear entered its eyes.
Impact.
The explosion vaporized everything in a two-hundred-foot radius. Snow turned to steam. Rock melted to magma. The shockwave flattened trees half a mile away.
When the light faded, a crater stretched before them—fifty feet deep, edges still glowing molten.
No Frost Troll Leader.
No body.
Nothing.
Just absence where something had been.
"Twenty-four confirmed kills." Hexia's voice was flat. "Contract complete."
Silence descended across the battlefield.
Then—
"YOU STOLE MY KILL!" Lhoralaine's voice was equal parts outraged and impressed. "You said it was MINE!"
"You said you wanted the leader."
"YES!"
"I eliminated the leader."
"BUT I WAS SUPPOSED TO—"
"The leader would have killed Durgan. Durgan is our engineer. We need him." Hexia's logic was impeccable. "Therefore, I eliminated the threat."
"BUT MY KILL COUNT!"
"Is less important than keeping team members alive."
"That's not—you can't just—" She sputtered. "SIRENIA! Tell him that's not fair!"
Sirenia was trying very hard not to laugh. "He did say you could have the leader. He didn't specify *when* you could have it."
"THAT'S SEMANTICS!"
"That's technically correct. The best kind of correct."
"I HATE YOU BOTH!"
"No you don't," Hexia said mildly. "You're just competitive. There will be other leaders to kill."
"Like what?!"
"The Mountain Giant alpha. That one's definitely yours."
Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Promise?"
"Unless it tries to kill Durgan."
"HEXIA!"
"What? I'm being honest."
"Your honesty is terrible!"
"My honesty keeps people alive."
Nerissa was laughing openly now—genuine, delighted laughter that made the tension dissipate. "You two are ridiculous. Both of you."
"He started it," Lhoralaine muttered.
"I ended a threat efficiently," Hexia corrected. "There's a difference."
"The difference is MY KILL COUNT!"
"Would you rather have a high kill count or a living engineer?"
"Can't I have both?!"
"Not when the leader was about to kill him."
Durgan raised his hand tentatively. "For what it's worth, I appreciate not being bisected."
"SEE?!" Hexia gestured. "Durgan appreciates living. Therefore, my decision was correct."
Lhoralaine opened her mouth to argue—then stopped, shoulders sagging in defeat. "Fine. FINE. You were right. But I'm STILL getting the Mountain Giant leader!"
"Unless—"
"DON'T YOU DARE FINISH THAT SENTENCE!"
"—it tries to kill someone."
"I'M GOING TO STAB YOU!"
"Your threats are noted and ignored."
"THAT'S BECAUSE YOU'RE TERRIBLE!"
"I'm practical."
Durin's laughter was like rocks grinding together. "Watching you two is better than theater."
"It's exhausting," Sirenia corrected.
"That too."
---
**AFTERMATH - THE FROZEN CAMP**
They made camp in a cave system far from the battlefield, protected from wind and snow. Fire crackled, providing warmth and light. Food cooked. Exhaustion settled like a comfortable blanket.
"Twenty-four Frost Trolls." Nerissa counted materials with professional assessment. "Their blood has excellent alchemical properties. The bones can be used for weapon cores that resist temperature extremes. And the leader's heart—" She held up a massive organ, still faintly glowing. "This alone is worth more than the entire contract payment."
"How much more?" Durgan asked, mercenary interest piqued.
"Enough to fund our expedition to three more continents."
"THAT'S AMAZING!" His enthusiasm was infectious. "What else can we harvest?"
"Everything. These materials are legendary-tier. Durin—you'll have enough components to create weapons that could fight Ancients."
"Not fight," Durin corrected, his voice steady. "Kill. There's a difference."
"Can you really make weapons that powerful?" Lhoralaine asked.
"With these materials? Yes." His certainty was absolute. "The Dire Hound fangs for piercing. The Frost Troll bones for durability and temperature resistance. Once we add Mountain Giant structural components and Dragon scales—" He smiled, fierce and anticipatory. "I'll forge weapons worthy of legends."
"How long?" Hexia asked, always tactical.
"Three Two months after we complete all four contracts. Maybe three if I add extra enchantments."
"Make it two. We're on a timeline."
"You're always on a timeline."
"Because the world ends if we're late."
"Fair point."
Sirenia was cleaning Thunder God staff, blue eyes distant. "Two contracts down. Two to go. We've killed fifty-four monsters in two weeks."
"Fifty-four confirmed," Hexia corrected. "The Chaos Meteor vaporized the Frost Troll Leader. No body means no confirmation beyond our testimony."
"The guild will accept it?"
"The crater is still glowing. I think they'll believe us."
"What about the next contracts?" Lhoralaine stretched, joints popping. "Ten Mountain Giants and two Glacial Dragons. Those are significantly harder than what we've faced."
"The Giants are brute force. Overwhelming physical power but limited tactical thinking." Hexia's mind was already working through scenarios. "We fight them in terrain that limits their mobility. Narrow valleys, rocky passes—places where size becomes disadvantage."
"And the Dragons?"
"Intelligent. They can fly and have frost breaths that can freeze cities." He was quiet for a moment. "The Dragons are the real challenge. Everything else has been preparation."
"So what's the plan?" Nerissa asked.
"We fight them last. After the Giants. We use everything we've learned, every tactic we've refined, every moment of teamwork we've developed." His crimson eyes reflected firelight. "And we kill them both before they realize they're in danger."
"That's ambitious," Durin observed.
"That's necessary." Hexia's voice was flat. "Glacial Dragons are smart enough to flee. If they escape, they'll warn others. Can't allow that."
"So we need overwhelming alpha strike capability." Nerissa understood immediately. "Hit so hard they die before they can react."
"Exactly."
"I have something that might work," Durgan said slowly. "But you're not going to like it."
"Why?"
"Because it involves me using DO-OSVIDANIA."
Complete silence.
"No," Hexia said immediately.
"You haven't heard—"
"No. Absolutely not. That weapon is too dangerous."
"It's PERFECT for Dragons!"
"It's perfect for ending ALL life in a five-mile radius! Including ours!"
"Not if we evacuate first!"
"Durgan—"
"Just THINK about it!" His enthusiasm was building. "One missile. Nuclear payload. The Dragons die instantly! Problem solved!"
"Along with the entire mountain range!"
"That's a FEATURE, not a BUG!"
"NO!"
"You're no fun!"
"I'm keeping you ALIVE!"
"Same thing!"
Nerissa stepped between them before the argument could escalate. "We'll table the nuclear option for now. Let's focus on the Mountain Giants first. Then we'll discuss Dragon tactics."
"But—" Durgan started.
"No nuclear weapons," Nerissa's voice carried royal authority that brooked no argument. "That's final."
"You're all boring!"
"We're all smart," Sirenia corrected. "There's a difference."
The conversation shifted to logistics—material harvesting, travel routes, resupply points. Plans formed. Contingencies developed.
And through it all, Hexia watched his team work together, feeling that same strange warmth he couldn't quite name.
Two contracts down. Fifty-four confirmed kills. Two more contracts remaining.
They were halfway through their material gathering.
Halfway to legendary weapons.
Halfway to being ready for what came next.
It wasn't enough time.
But it would have to be.
---
**TO BE CONTINUED...**
*Two contracts complete. Two remain. Next comes the Mountain Giants—forty feet of rage and stone, ten strong, led by an alpha that's learned to hate adventurers.*
*And then the Dragons. Ancient. Intelligent. Powerful enough to end kingdoms.*
*But Hexagram is learning. Growing stronger. More coordinated.*
*More deadly.*
*Heads will keep rolling.*
*or mountains might say GOODBYE!*
*Even dragons*
Do-Osvidania!!