The snowfall intensifies, thickening the air until the world beyond the trees is obscured in a swirling white abyss. The storm rages with unrelenting ferocity, sending waves of snow and ice cascading across the land. Lightning splits the sky in jagged bursts, illuminating the storm with blinding flashes. Each bolt tears through the darkened clouds, momentarily turning the endless night into day. Thunder roars, shaking the earth as if the heavens themselves were at war.
Snow rises unnaturally, forming towering snow devils—cyclones of frost that twist and spin with violent force, ripping apart the trees and scattering debris. The forest becomes a battlefield of chaos, the winds screaming and trees groaning as ancient branches splinter and fall. Creatures flee in every direction, their howls of terror swallowed by the deafening storm. The ground cracks under the pressure, geysers of ice erupting into the air, freezing everything they touch in jagged crystalline spires.
Arashi steps out of the carriage, his boots crunching against the snow as he exhales slowly, his breath visible in the frigid air. Despite the storm's fury, his face remains calm, untouched by the chaos around him. His white hair flutters lightly in the wind, the only hint that he stands in the heart of a tempest.
"It's time," he murmurs, his voice steady but carrying a weight that cuts through the storm.
As he walks forward, the snow parts before him as if the storm itself fears his presence. He reaches the front of the group and raises a hand. "Warriors, step back!" His command rings out, firm and undeniable.
"Sir!" A booming voice calls out, and a figure steps forward—a man with broad shoulders and a towering frame. His muscles bulge against his clothing, his short black hair dusted with frost, and his green eyes gleam with fervor. He holds a long, curved spear, its blade glinting despite the dim light. He stands tall and eager, grinning as the storm rages around him. "General, sir! Allow me to fight!" His voice is full of vigor, carrying over the howling winds. "This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to set my name in stone!"
Arashi pauses, his grey eyes meeting the man's, calm and unyielding. The snowstorm surges around them, but his presence is steady, like a mountain unmoved by the winds. He sighs lightly, the sound barely audible amidst the chaos, before placing a hand on the man's shoulder.
"Toei," he begins, his tone soft yet firm, "you will have plenty of opportunities to show your courage." His hand lingers for a moment before he withdraws it. "You are strong, but you are still young. This is not your fight. Step back."
Toei hesitates, his grip tightening on his spear, but the weight of Arashi's words sinks in. He lowers his head in reluctant acceptance. "Yes, General," he says quietly, stepping back into the group.
Without another word, Arashi strides forward, his figure disappearing into the raging forest. The trees close in behind him, cutting off his allies from view.
The storm continues to rage, yet as Arashi moves deeper into the forest, the snow around him slows. Each flake freezes mid-fall, suspended in the air like tiny shards of ice. The howling winds fall silent, leaving an eerie, unnatural calm. The world becomes still, as if holding its breath.
"I was afraid you'd run," Arashi mutters coldly, his voice cutting through the silence. His cloudy grey eyes scan the now-clear forest, his hand twitching faintly as if anticipating what is to come.
From the corner of his eye, he notices movement—a dark shadow, broad and towering, emerging from the trees. The figure approaches, growing clearer with every step. Standing seven feet tall, it looms over the snow-covered ground, its presence heavy and undeniable.
"Run?" a rough, husky voice rumbles through the stillness, carrying a biting chill. The figure steps into the light, revealing itself fully.
The man is immense, his body large with a rounded belly that belies the power radiating from him. His red-and-white coat and pants stand out starkly against the snow, their edges trimmed with frost. His pale face is striking, a deep scar cutting across his forehead like a jagged mark of defiance. Bright blue eyes, sharp and piercing, seem to glow faintly, their intensity capable of blinding even the bravest. His long, snow-white beard flows past his chest, swaying slightly as he moves.
"Your ancestors must have left you with false information," the man says, his tone cold and mocking. He glances at Arashi, his gaze sharp and unwavering. "Boy, even if your people are strange, I do not run. I have business here."
Lightning splits the sky again, its blinding arc illuminating the man's imposing figure. The thunder follows, shaking the ground, but the man doesn't flinch. Instead, he glances upward, irritation flickering across his features. "Those stupid gods are still at it, is this all they amount to?" he mutters.
The lightning crackles once more, but this time it slows mid-strike, the jagged bolt turning white before freezing in place. With a faint crackling sound, the frozen lightning shatters into a cascade of glittering fragments, falling harmlessly to the ground.
Arashi steps forward, his cloudy grey eyes fixed on the towering figure before him. His voice is calm, each word deliberate. "If you're referring to that artifact, it's been sealed in a place you'll never find. Someone like you should never have access to it, Old Saint Nicolas."
A chuckle escapes Nicolas, deep and rumbling, before it grows into a low, unsettling laugh. He raises a hand to cover his pale face, the sound echoing through the still forest. "Hahaha… I advise you to show respect, boy. My patience is thin."
As his laughter fades, he takes a single step forward, and from his sleeve, a long, sharp candy cane slips out, its edges glinting like the blade of a well-forged weapon. "Mortals are truly stupid," he says, his tone now colder, more dangerous. "I am the Man of Gifts. I grant every wish, one day a year. And yet, you humans—so ungrateful—turned against me. Why?"
His question lingers in the air, more a bitter statement than a demand for an answer. He swings the candy cane lazily through the air, the motion sharp enough to cut through the falling snow. "I gave children the gifts their parents could never afford. I—"
"Enough of this bullshit," Arashi interrupts, his expression unmoving, his voice cutting through like a blade. "You are no saint."
Nicolas's bright blue eyes narrow dangerously as Arashi continues, unshaken. "You may give gifts, but you take their lives in return. They don't even get a say in it. The second they open their gifts, you ruin their lives."
The old man's face twists, his pale skin growing taut as his booming voice fills the air. "I don't take their lives away, boy!" he roars, his tone icy and defensive. "They become the happiest person for a day. All I take is a small portion of their life force. It doesn't kill them—it doesn't kill anyone!" He mutters the last part to himself, but his anger returns instantly.
With a flick of his wrist, a massive ice spike erupts from the ground, hurtling toward Arashi with the force of an avalanche. The spike pierces the air, striking its mark with precision. The snow explodes in all directions, leaving no trace of Arashi behind. Nicolas smirks faintly, shaking his head. "How weak. Now, I'll need to—"
"I won't let you regain your power."
The voice comes from the swirling snow itself, and as the frost reforms, Arashi's body materializes where he stood. His expression remains calm, his hands holding a small metallic device that glints faintly in the dim light. With a click of a hidden mechanism, a shimmering dark blue dome rises around the forest, its edges humming with restrained energy.
"We've been preparing for you," Arashi states, his voice firm and steady, "since the day you were sealed."
Old Saint Nicolas's smirk widens into something darker, almost amused. He tilts his head, his long white beard shifting slightly as his bright blue eyes gleam. "So this is why you stand against me. You bear one of the Heavenly Elemental Physiques… the very same one I have." He chuckles bitterly, shaking his head in exasperation. "The heavens truly hate me. To give mortals access to heavenly physiques just to keep me in check… Have they gone insane?" His voice carries frustration, not fear, as if marveling at the absurdity of it all.
Arashi's hands tighten into fists, his posture brimming with restrained power. "I trained to kill you."
BOOM!
In a flash, Arashi surges forward, his palm striking toward Nicolas's face with blinding speed. The air itself cracks with the force of his movement, the shockwave sending snow and debris scattering. But Nicolas is faster. With a flick of his wrist, his candy cane rises, its sharp edges blocking the blow effortlessly.
Clack. Clack. Clack.
The sound of their clash reverberates through the forest as Arashi strikes again—and again. Each jab is faster, more precise, but Nicolas meets every one with his weapon, moving with inhuman speed. Twenty strikes in an instant, each blocked with pinpoint accuracy. The candy cane spins in Nicolas's hand like a master's blade, deflecting each blow with ease.
"You trained to kill me?" Nicolas growls, his blue eyes locking onto Arashi's. "You'll have to try harder than that, boy."
-
BOOM!
Old Saint Nicolas hurtles through the forest, his massive frame smashing through countless ancient trees. Each impact sends splinters and shards of bark flying like shrapnel, the thunderous sound echoing across the frozen wilderness. Snow erupts in plumes around him as he grits his teeth, his bright blue eyes narrowing with frustration.
His cane pierces the ground with a sharp crack, the force carving a jagged trench in the snow as he finally skids to a halt. He exhales sharply, his breath visible in the icy air, his grip tightening on the candy cane. "What the fuck is that man?" he mutters, glaring at the distant silhouette of Arashi standing amidst the storm.
His knuckles whiten as his fingers curl around the cane's polished surface. "How is he matching my speed?" Nicolas growls, planting a foot into the snow before launching himself forward, the ground cratering beneath him. The wind howls in his wake as he closes the gap in a heartbeat.
Arashi stands calm, his grey eyes unreadable, the faintest flicker of frost curling around his form. He doesn't turn as Nicolas appears behind him in an instant, the candy cane swinging down like a guillotine.
Whoosh.
Arashi tilts his head at the last moment, the candy cane slicing through empty air, the strike narrowly missing his neck. In the same fluid motion, Arashi pivots, his arm looping around Nicolas's extended strike. His hand grips the old saint's wrist with iron-like precision as he drives his palm toward Nicolas's chest with explosive force.
But Nicolas's body disintegrates into snow mid-blow, the icy particles swirling away from the impact. A split second later, the snow coalesces behind Arashi, reforming into his towering frame. His cane arcs through the air again, aiming for the back of Arashi's head.
"I'm nowhere near my original power," Nicolas mutters, his tone sharp with irritation. "But even so, I should be able to beat mortals with ease."
Arashi doesn't falter. He spins on his heel, catching the candy cane mid-swing with his forearm, the impact ringing out like a bell. The force ripples through the ground, sending snow blasting outward in all directions. Without missing a beat, Arashi steps in, his elbow driving toward Nicolas's ribs like a thunderbolt.
Nicolas twists his body, the blow grazing him as he counters with a sweeping kick. Arashi leaps, his body flipping into the air with the grace of falling snow, avoiding the strike. Mid-spin, he extends his leg, aiming a sharp kick at Nicolas's head.
Nicolas raises his cane, deflecting the strike with a resounding clash. The impact sends sparks of frost scattering through the air, the frozen particles catching the light like shattered diamonds. The force of the block sends Arashi skidding back through the snow, his boots digging deep furrows into the ground.
"For a human, you've trained well," Nicolas admits, his voice a low growl as he lowers his cane, snow swirling around him like a living shield. "But skill means nothing against power."
He thrusts his palm forward, and a massive blast of snow erupts from the ground, twisting into a colossal wave that surges toward Arashi like an avalanche. The air crackles with the chill of its power, the sheer pressure enough to bend the surrounding trees.
Arashi's hands flicker in rapid motion, forming intricate patterns as the snow beneath him rises. The avalanche crashes against an invisible barrier of frost, splitting around him in a perfect arc. With a sharp exhale, Arashi dashes forward, his body blurring as he closes the distance in an instant.
Their collision is deafening.
Arashi's palm meets Nicolas's cane, the impact sending shockwaves rippling through the air. Nicolas retaliates, twisting his cane downward in a sharp arc. The candy cane's tip strikes the ground, releasing a shockwave of ice spikes that explode upward in a jagged line.
Arashi weaves through the spikes effortlessly, his movements a blend of precision and fluidity. He ducks low, his body nearly parallel to the ground as he slides beneath Nicolas's guard. In one smooth motion, he pivots upward, his fist driving toward Nicolas's jaw.
Nicolas catches the punch with his palm, the force sending cracks spiderwebbing through the frozen ground. He grins, his blue eyes blazing with cold fury. "weak," he mutters, twisting Arashi's wrist to pull him closer. He drives his knee upward, aiming for Arashi's ribs, but Arashi twists mid-air, using the momentum to free himself.
The two disappear into a whirlwind of snow and motion, their forms blurring as they exchange blow after blow. Arashi's strikes are sharp and unrelenting, his movements calculated and precise. Nicolas counters with raw power, his cane spinning like a deadly whirlwind as he combines its strikes with crushing kicks and brutal jabs.
"I don't have time for this," Nicolas growls, coughing blood as he stumbles backward. His hand clutches his side, his fingers stained crimson. His bright blue eyes narrow with frustration, flicking skyward as his thoughts race. 'They should be here, right about—'
A deafening explosion cuts through the storm. The barrier above them shatters in a cascade of blue shards, the sound ringing like a thousand breaking bells. The air fills with an otherworldly energy as the snowstorm briefly stills, the fragments of the dome dissolving into nothingness.
Nicolas smirks, his breath visible as he murmurs, "My ride is here, boy." His voice drips with icy menace. His body begins to dissolve into snow, swirling upward into the howling wind. "The next time we meet will be your end."
Above them, a massive red sleigh bursts through the clouds, carried by six enormous Frosthorn Raiders. The creatures are awe-inspiring, each standing over fifteen feet tall with thick, muscular bodies covered in coarse white fur. Their six powerful legs churn through the air, each step creating ripples of frost in their wake. Their antlers, made entirely of translucent ice, glint menacingly, refracting the dim light into sharp, shimmering fragments. The raiders' glowing blue eyes pierce the storm, giving them an almost spectral appearance as they move with unnatural grace.
The sleigh itself is a masterpiece of both terror and grandeur. Constructed from blackened wood, its sleek body seems to drink in the faint light of the aurora above. Intricate carvings of writhing snowflakes and jagged lightning streak its surface, glowing faintly with silver and red hues. Large, curved runners gleam like polished steel, leaving trails of sparkling frost behind. Chains of frozen silver tether the raiders to the sleigh, rattling faintly as they move.
With a swirl of snow, Nicolas materializes on the sleigh, his massive figure framed by the imposing creatures. He leans casually on his candy cane, his blood-streaked grin cutting through the frost like a blade. "Enjoy the city I gifted away," he calls out, his voice carrying an eerie, mocking cheer. "The next time we meet will be your end!"
The sleigh lurches forward, the raiders' antlers glowing faintly as they pick up speed. It moves impossibly fast, tearing through the sky like a comet, leaving a trail of frost and shattered snowflakes in its wake. As the wind carries him away, Nicolas's voice booms across the frozen forest. "Ho! Ho! Ho! Merry Christmas," he mumbles, the chilling words sending shivers down Arashi's spine.
Arashi grits his teeth, forcing himself to his feet. His chest heaves as he coughs, blood staining the pristine snow at his feet. "Shit…" he mutters, brushing the frost from his face. Pain shoots through his body, and he winces, gripping his side. "I'll need to prepare for his next appearance," he grunts, his voice low and strained.
He stumbles forward before collapsing to one knee, his breath fogging in the freezing air. His hand moves to his temple as a pounding headache sets in. 'Who am I going to ask for help?' he wonders bitterly. His grey eyes scan the wreckage of the forest around him, his gaze distant and conflicted. 'We haven't opened our borders to any other country for centuries…'
With a heavy sigh, Arashi lays back in the snow, the icy cold biting into his skin but offering no comfort. His mind swirls with possibilities, each more desperate than the last. Finally, he exhales sharply, the realization sinking in. 'Looks like I'll need to look for adventurers…'