Chapter 12
The aftermath of Vinseno's destruction lingered in the cold air. Snow fell lightly, dusting the remains of the battlefield where Caelan had performed his Light Flash. The victory felt surreal, yet bittersweet. The enemy had been vanquished, but the toll it had taken was etched into the tired expressions of the group.
Caelan leaned against a half-buried boulder, his breath visible in the frigid air, steam rising from his exhausted body. He stared at his hands, still tingling with the remnants of the magic he had unleashed.
I actually did it, he thought. But beneath the pride, there was doubt. That burst of power had felt uncontrollable. His thoughts flickered back to the moment he'd almost exploded, almost lost control.
"Good job out there," Zaimond said, sitting next to him with a grin. "Didn't think you had that in you."
Caelan snorted and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, me neither. I almost became light-flavored dust."
Zaimond chuckled. "Well, you're not dust. You're still here. And that was sick. You saved all of us, man."
Caelan shifted uncomfortably. Zaimond's words didn't comfort him as much as he'd thought they would. Sure, he had saved them, but it felt like a fluke, a desperate move. What if next time I'm not so lucky? The thought gnawed at him.
Across the clearing, Richard and Elden worked to patch up the rest of their wounds. Richard was casually humming while wrapping a thick bandage around Elden's chest, ignoring the fact that Elden looked like he was ready to walk into battle again despite missing an eye.
Elden's stern gaze briefly fell on Caelan, watching the young warrior's quiet moment of reflection. His one remaining eye didn't show emotion, but there was something about the way he observed that made Caelan feel exposed.
"Yo, Caelan." Richard waved, smirking. "You look like you just lost a staring contest with a void. What's going on in that light-filled noggin of yours?"
Caelan sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Just…thinking. About what happened back there."
Richard raised an eyebrow. "You mean how you saved all our asses? Yeah, that was pretty epic."
Caelan forced a smile but shook his head. "I don't know. It was more luck than anything. That power—Light Flash—I barely controlled it. I felt like I was gonna… blow up. What if I hurt you guys? What if—"
"Stop," Elden interrupted, his voice as sharp as the cold wind. He walked over, his shadow looming over Caelan. "You didn't. That's all that matters."
Caelan looked up at Elden, feeling the weight of his words but still unconvinced. "But what if next time—"
"Next time, you'll be stronger." Elden's voice was firm. "We all grow from each battle. You're no exception, Caelan."
The young warrior clenched his fists. Stronger? That word echoed in his mind. He hadn't felt strong when he was fighting Vinseno—he had felt terrified.
He stood up, brushing snow off his jacket. "Yeah… stronger."
But something in Caelan had shifted. The idea that he might not always be in control of his powers hung over him like a dark cloud. His carefree nature felt suffocated by the reality of what had happened. He had power—terrifying power—but at what cost?
---
Later, as the group made their way further into the frozen wasteland, the mood became darker. The victory against Vinseno should have filled them with confidence, but instead, a heavy silence had settled over them.
Caelan trailed at the back, lost in his thoughts. His light-hearted attitude was cracking under the weight of responsibility. Every step felt heavier. The others didn't seem to notice, but Caelan could feel it gnawing at him.
Then, suddenly, they came across something unexpected.
A village, half-buried in the snow, sat abandoned. The houses were shattered, roofs caved in, and frost clung to everything like a plague. In the center of the village, a large, frozen fountain stood, its waters trapped in an eternal moment of stillness.
"Looks like this place has seen better days," Richard muttered.
Elden surveyed the area with caution. "Stay sharp. This could be a trap."
Caelan, however, wasn't focused on the potential danger. He was staring at the remains of the village, something tugging at his heart. He could almost feel the sorrow that had once hung in the air here. The stillness, the emptiness… it felt too familiar.
"Caelan," Zaimond called out, snapping him out of his thoughts. "You okay? You've been acting weird since the fight."
Caelan opened his mouth to respond, but something inside him stopped him. The carefree joke he wanted to crack didn't come. Instead, his voice came out quieter, more serious than Zaimond was used to hearing.
"I don't know if I'm ready for this," Caelan admitted.
Zaimond blinked in surprise. "What do you mean? You just took down Vinseno."
Caelan's gaze drifted to the frozen village. "Yeah… but what if next time, I mess up? What if I can't control it again? I don't want to… I don't want to hurt you guys."
Zaimond was silent for a moment, processing the rare vulnerability. "Dude, look," he finally said, slapping Caelan on the back. "None of us are in control all the time. But we trust each other. That's what matters. And you've got our backs, just like we've got yours."
Caelan stared at him, trying to find comfort in those words, but the doubt still lingered. He wasn't sure if he could trust himself.
As they pressed deeper into the village, the dark mood thickened. Caelan couldn't shake the feeling that something was watching them. The air felt heavy, as if the weight of the entire village's forgotten history was pressing down on him.
Then, they saw it—a shadowy figure standing at the edge of the village square.
It was tall, cloaked in a veil of darkness, with glowing red eyes peering from beneath a hood. Its presence radiated malice, and the temperature seemed to drop even further as it stepped forward.
Caelan felt a chill crawl up his spine. The figure's voice echoed through the air, deep and sinister.
"You… carry the light," the figure hissed, its eyes locking onto Caelan. "But the light is fragile. It can be snuffed out so easily… and when it is, all that remains is darkness."
Caelan froze. The words hit him harder than he expected. He had been thinking the same thing—that his light, his power, was fragile.
The figure's laugh cut through the silence, a low, haunting sound. "You fear it, don't you? The darkness inside you. The power you wield. You are nothing but a flickering flame in an endless abyss."
"Shut up!" Caelan snapped, his heart racing. But the fear was bubbling up, threatening to overwhelm him. His fingers twitched as he thought about the light he had unleashed against Vinseno. Could he really control it? Or was he just a ticking time bomb?
The figure raised a hand, shadows swirling around it. "Let me show you what happens when the light fades…"
Before the figure could attack, a bright flash of light erupted from Caelan's hand. Without thinking, he released a burst of energy that sent the shadowy figure stumbling back.
For a brief moment, Caelan felt something new—a flicker of control. Maybe, just maybe, he could learn to balance the light and darkness inside him.
The shadowy figure disappeared into the night, leaving Caelan standing alone in the snow. His friends gathered around him, ready to fight, but the immediate danger had passed.
"You did it," Zaimond said, patting Caelan on the shoulder. "You held back the darkness."
Caelan nodded, though the fear hadn't left him entirely. But for the first time, he felt like he could face it.
He wasn't just the light. He was the balance.
---
The cold wind whistled through the ruined village as the group continued their slow advance, the eerie silence unsettling everyone except perhaps Rul, who still seemed utterly unfazed. Caelan, however, couldn't shake the feeling that the shadowy figure's words still echoed in his mind. The fragility of light… the creeping darkness… all of it weighed heavily on him as they ventured deeper.
Richard adjusted the bandages on Elden's missing eye and tried to lighten the mood, casually saying, "Hey, Elden, maybe you should get an eye patch. You'd look like a cool pirate knight, you know?"
Elden shot him a stern glare with his one good eye. "This is no time for jokes."
Richard smirked. "It's always time for jokes, especially after the world nearly blew up."
Caelan chuckled weakly but felt the tension in Elden's gaze even from a distance. Elden had always been focused, unyielding—a pillar of strength. Caelan, on the other hand, still struggled to find his place, especially after barely surviving his own powers in the last battle.
As they entered the village square, Zaimond glanced over at Caelan, sensing the weight on his friend's shoulders. "You okay, dude? You've been awfully quiet. Not your usual talkative self."
Caelan sighed, shoving his hands into his pockets. "I dunno, man. That thing back there, it got to me. What if I can't keep this power under control next time?"
Zaimond raised an eyebrow. "The whole 'light versus dark' thing again?"
"Yeah… and, I guess, everything else." Caelan kicked a chunk of snow, sending it flying a few feet ahead. "It's like, the more I fight, the more I realize how dangerous this is. I'm supposed to be the 'Warrior of Light,' but what if I mess up? What if I hurt you guys instead of saving you?"
Zaimond's face softened. "Look, I get it. It's tough, but you can't keep doubting yourself every time something big happens. You saved us back there against Vinseno. That wasn't a fluke. It was you stepping up when it mattered."
Caelan didn't respond immediately, the weight of Zaimond's words sinking in. But before he could reply, Richard shouted, "Heads up!" drawing everyone's attention.
From behind the collapsed fountain, more figures emerged—dozens of them. Their bodies, twisted and contorted, looked like they had been carved from black ice. Their eyes gleamed with a malevolent glow, and their icy claws scraped against the frozen ground.
"Dark Ice Men," Elden said, drawing his sword. "We're not alone."
The creatures advanced, their forms glistening under the pale light of the moon. They moved as one, with an unnatural speed, and their sheer number was overwhelming.
"Ah, more cannon fodder," Rul said, folding his arms. "Guess I'll watch you guys handle this."
Zaimond smirked. "Looks like we've got work to do, Caelan."
Caelan tightened his grip on his sword, his uncertainty still gnawing at him. But now wasn't the time to overthink. The enemies were closing in fast.
"Let's go!" he shouted, launching himself into battle.
---
The clash of steel against ice echoed through the village as Caelan, Zaimond, Elden, and Richard tore through the ranks of the Dark Ice Men. Caelan's sword glowed with radiant light as he sliced through their icy forms, trying to channel his energy more carefully than before. With each strike, he felt the power coursing through him, but this time he fought to control it, to rein it in.
Zaimond was a blur of elemental mastery, his hands summoning bursts of flame and waves of water, cutting through the ice creatures with precision. Richard danced between enemies, his agility allowing him to dodge their claws while landing calculated strikes of his own.
Meanwhile, Elden moved like a force of nature, his speed far surpassing anyone else's as he cleaved through the horde with powerful, precise blows. Despite missing an eye, he fought as fiercely as ever, his movements cold and efficient.
But as the battle raged on, Caelan noticed something. The more he fought, the more his power began to feel… manageable. It wasn't overwhelming him like before. He could feel the light, not just as a chaotic force but as something he could guide.
"Caelan!" Zaimond's voice snapped him out of his thoughts. "Focus!"
Caelan nodded, shaking off his moment of introspection, and joined Zaimond in taking down the remaining creatures. Together, they weaved between each other's attacks, complementing their moves as if they had been fighting alongside each other for years.
Before long, the last of the Dark Ice Men crumbled into shards of frozen dust, their bodies dissolving into the snow.
Elden sheathed his sword and surveyed the area, his gaze sharp. "We can't stay here. There may be more."
Richard, ever the optimist, sighed in relief. "Well, if that's the warm-up, I hate to think what the boss fight looks like."
Rul snickered from his perch. "Nice job, guys. Looked tough. Glad I could, you know, supervise."
Caelan rolled his eyes but found himself laughing softly. "Yeah, you really nailed it, Rul."
As they prepared to move forward, the ground beneath them trembled. A fissure cracked through the village, sending chunks of earth and snow falling into a deep, shadowy abyss.
Out of the darkness, a figure began to rise, cloaked in shattered pieces of blackened ice and radiating a dark, twisted energy. It was humanoid, but its form was contorted and grotesque, with wings made of jagged, frozen crystal and eyes that burned with pure hatred.
It hovered above them, its wings beating slowly as it descended. This was no ordinary enemy. This was something far worse.
Zaimond's face paled. "What… is that?"
Richard's usual bravado faltered as he stepped back, eyes wide. "Whatever it is, it's not happy to see us."
The creature opened its mouth, and its voice rumbled like thunder. "You dare enter this place and defy the curse of Vinseno Delvin? You will all fall to darkness, like those before you."
Caelan gritted his teeth, gripping his sword tightly. Vinseno again…? No. I'm not letting this thing take us down.
As the creature hovered closer, Caelan felt a surge of determination rise within him. His doubts, his fears—they didn't matter now. What mattered was that his friends were counting on him.
And this time, he wasn't going to let them down.
"Come on," he muttered to himself, his sword beginning to glow with a renewed light. "Let's see what you've got."
---
The colossal figure loomed in the air, its wings of jagged ice radiating a frigid aura that made the air crackle and bite. Caelan's breath fogged in front of him, his pulse quickening. The creature's eyes gleamed with an unnatural intensity, focusing entirely on him.
Without warning, the creature stretched its arms wide, and the temperature around them plummeted even further. The ground began to freeze solid beneath their feet. A shattering sound echoed through the square, and Caelan realized what was happening—this wasn't just another battle.
The ice creature's voice reverberated through the air, cold and unforgiving. "I summon thee to my realm. Coldy Place."
The world around them flickered and cracked like glass, and then everything shifted. Caelan blinked, disoriented, as the landscape around him warped. Where the ruined village once stood, there was now an endless expanse of ice and frost, with towering glaciers and jagged icicles reaching into the sky. It was as if he had been thrown into an arctic wasteland.
He looked around for his companions, but they were gone. The bitter cold sank into his bones. His heart raced.
"Guys?" he called out, but there was no response. The silence was deafening. Caelan was alone.
The ice creature descended, landing with a thud that cracked the frozen ground beneath it. It stood before him, massive and imposing, its frozen eyes locked onto him.
"You've been chosen," the creature rumbled, its voice as cold as the air around them. "Only you shall face me in my domain. Here, my power is absolute."
Caelan gripped his sword tighter, the glow of light pulsing weakly against the creature's overwhelming presence. He forced himself to take a breath, to steady his racing heart. This was unlike anything he had faced before. He was completely cut off, with no backup, no Zaimond, no Elden, no Richard. It was just him… and this thing.
The creature raised a hand, and a wall of ice shot up from the ground, towering high above Caelan. The wall shattered into countless shards, each one sharp and deadly, all of them aimed directly at him.
Caelan barely had time to react. He leapt to the side, narrowly avoiding the onslaught of ice shards, feeling the rush of cold air as they flew past him. His mind raced. The creature wasn't just strong—it was precise, strategic. This was its domain, and here, it controlled everything.
As Caelan rolled to his feet, he realized this was more than just a fight—it was a test. He couldn't rely on his usual tricks. His light wouldn't shine as brightly in this frigid realm, not without understanding the rules.
Alright, think. Caelan focused, trying to remember everything Seraphis had taught him about controlling his light. He had always been told to balance it, to let the light flow through him naturally. But here, the light was weak, struggling against the oppressive cold.
He could feel the creature watching him, waiting for him to falter.
With a grunt, Caelan dashed forward, swinging his sword in a wide arc. Light flared from the blade as it connected with the creature's arm, but the ice was so dense, so cold, that the light barely left a scratch.
The creature chuckled darkly. "Is that all? Your light is nothing here."
Caelan gritted his teeth. He couldn't afford to doubt himself now. He raised his sword again, preparing to strike, but before he could move, the creature raised its hand once more. This time, the entire ground beneath Caelan cracked and split open, sending massive chunks of ice flying into the air.
Caelan leapt back, barely avoiding being crushed. Damn it, this thing's controlling everything here.
He needed to figure out the rules of this domain—fast.
Suddenly, the creature's hand began to glow with a deep blue aura, and from its palm, a torrent of frost shot toward Caelan. He rolled out of the way, but the frost hit the ground where he had been standing, freezing the air itself in jagged patterns. The cold was becoming unbearable.
He had to adapt. And quickly.
Wait… Caelan's mind flicked back to something Zaimond had once said in passing during one of their training sessions. "Every place, every field, has its flow of energy. If you can feel that flow, you can break it."
Maybe that applied here too. Maybe this wasn't just a fight of strength. It was a battle of forces—his light versus the creature's cold.
Caelan took a deep breath, focusing not on the ice, but on the faint warmth within him. He let it expand, slow and controlled, feeling the pulse of energy inside his chest. His light wasn't gone—it was just waiting, waiting for him to align it with the coldness of this domain.
The creature charged at him, raising its massive arm to strike. But this time, Caelan didn't move to dodge. Instead, he closed his eyes for a brief second, feeling the flow of energy beneath his feet. When he opened his eyes, he let his light surge.
With a burst of radiant energy, Caelan dashed forward, meeting the creature head-on. His sword glowed brighter than before, cutting through the icy air. The creature swung its arm, but Caelan slipped through its defenses, landing a strike against its chest. This time, the light burned deep into the ice.
The creature howled in pain, stumbling back.
Caelan's heart pounded, but a smirk formed on his lips. "Gotcha."
He wasn't just fighting the creature now. He was fighting its domain. And for the first time, he felt the balance shifting. The cold still pressed in, but his light was adapting, finding the cracks in the ice, the weak spots in the creature's power.
"Your domain is impressive," Caelan said, his voice echoing in the cold expanse. "But light… light can reach anywhere."
The creature roared in anger, raising its arms as massive pillars of ice shot from the ground. But Caelan was faster now. He ducked and weaved between the attacks, his sword a blur of radiant energy. Every strike he landed chipped away at the creature's form, sending shards of ice flying in every direction.
The creature staggered, its movements becoming sluggish. Caelan could feel its power waning. This was his chance.
He gathered all his strength, focusing every ounce of light he had left into his blade. The glow was blinding, cutting through the darkness of the domain. With a final burst of speed, he leapt into the air, bringing his sword down with all his might.
"Light Flash!"
The blade connected with the creature's core, and the light exploded outward, tearing through the ice. The creature let out one final, deafening roar before its body shattered into a thousand pieces, disintegrating into the air.
The domain around them flickered once, then shattered like glass. Caelan fell to the ground, landing hard on the frozen earth. The cold was gone, replaced by the familiar, bitter chill of the outside world.
His friends stood nearby, watching in awe.
Caelan panted, wiping sweat from his brow. "Well… that was fun."
Zaimond was the first to break the silence. "Dude… that was badass."
Caelan grinned, his exhaustion catching up with him. "Yeah, well… someone's gotta do it, right?"
As the others gathered around him, he couldn't help but feel a sense of accomplishment. For the first time in a long while, he didn't feel like the weakest link.
He had faced the darkness—and this time, he had won.
---
The frozen winds howled as Caelan and his companions made their way through the tundra, each step sinking into the deep snow beneath their boots. Their breaths came out in frosty clouds, and the biting cold pressed into their bones, but they pushed forward, determined to reach their destination.
Ahead, looming in the distance, was the Ice Castle, its jagged spires piercing the gray sky like frozen claws. The air around it seemed to shimmer with an unnatural energy, a coldness even more intense than the surrounding wasteland.
"That's it," Zaimond said, his voice slightly muffled beneath the layers of fur wrapped around him. "That's where we'll find him."
Caelan squinted, gazing up at the ominous fortress. He could feel it too—the sheer power radiating from within its walls. This was where Varus K 10, the 10th Demon King, waited for them.
"Varus K 10…" Caelan murmured. "Isn't he supposed to be the weakest of the Demon Kings?"
Zaimond let out a short laugh. "Yeah, that's what the legends say. But if he's the weakest, I'd hate to see what the strongest ones are like."
Richard, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, adjusted the strap on his satchel. "We shouldn't underestimate him. 'Weak' is a relative term when it comes to demons. Especially those ranked as kings."
Elden, his usual stoic self, walked a few paces ahead, his eye now covered with a makeshift bandage from their earlier battle. His posture was rigid, ready for any sudden attack. He had said little since their last confrontation, but Caelan could tell that the loss of his eye was still weighing on him. Even though he pretended it didn't bother him.
"I don't care if he's weak," Elden said gruffly, his voice low and steady. "He's still a threat. And we'll deal with him just like the others."
Caelan smiled slightly at Elden's determination. But deep down, a part of him felt nervous. Their last fight had been brutal—he barely survived facing Vinseno, and now they were walking straight into the lair of another powerful enemy. But he wasn't alone. They had made it this far together, and they would face whatever came next together as well.
As they approached the entrance to the castle, the air around them seemed to freeze even more, the temperature dropping with every step. The massive gates of the castle towered above them, covered in intricate designs carved from ice, shimmering in the faint light.
"Do we knock, or...?" Caelan joked, trying to break the tension. His usual humor was an attempt to ease the nerves of those around him—and himself.
Zaimond smirked. "I'm sure they're expecting us."
Richard, standing beside them, gave a dry chuckle. "Let's not make it any easier for them. Elden?"
Elden nodded, stepping forward. With a swift motion, he slammed his fist into the gates, the force sending a shockwave through the ice. The massive doors groaned, then slowly began to creak open, revealing a long, dark corridor that stretched deep into the heart of the castle.
The interior was just as cold as the outside, if not worse. Frost clung to every surface, and icicles dripped from the ceiling like frozen daggers. A dim blue light illuminated the path ahead, casting eerie shadows on the walls.
"This place gives me the creeps," Caelan muttered, gripping the hilt of his sword a little tighter. He couldn't shake the feeling that something—someone—was watching them from the shadows.
As they moved deeper into the castle, the oppressive cold began to weigh down on them even more. The walls seemed to close in, and the faint whispers of wind echoed through the halls, sending chills down their spines.
Suddenly, Richard stopped, holding up a hand. "Wait," he whispered. "Do you hear that?"
The group paused, straining to listen. At first, there was nothing but the sound of the wind. But then, faintly, a voice echoed through the castle—soft, almost melodic, but dripping with malice.
"Ah... the little lambs have arrived… so eager to face their end."
The voice sent a shiver down Caelan's spine. It was cold and mocking, filled with a twisted sort of amusement. He glanced at Zaimond, who narrowed his eyes.
"That must be him," Zaimond said quietly. "Varus."
The voice continued, echoing through the corridors. "Do you think you stand a chance against me? The weakest of the Demon Kings, they say. But perhaps… that is what makes me the most dangerous."
Caelan clenched his fists. "Most dangerous, huh?" He muttered under his breath. "Let's see about that."
They continued forward, the tension growing thicker with every step. Finally, they reached the end of the corridor, where a massive chamber awaited them. At the far end of the room, seated on a throne of ice, was Varus K 10.
The Demon King was tall and slender, his pale blue skin almost blending into the icy surroundings. His long, flowing robes shimmered like the surface of a frozen lake, and his eyes gleamed with an unsettling, otherworldly light. A cruel smile played on his lips as he regarded the group before him.
"So, you've come to challenge me," Varus said, his voice dripping with contempt. "How amusing."
Caelan stepped forward, his hand on the hilt of his sword. "We're not here for fun. We're here to stop you."
Varus tilted his head, still smiling. "Stop me? Oh, I think you're mistaken. You're not here to stop me… you're here to entertain me."
Suddenly, the room grew even colder—if that were possible—and the air around them began to crackle with energy. Varus stood from his throne, his movements graceful and deliberate, as though he was in complete control of everything around him.
"You see, little lambs," Varus continued, "I may be the weakest of the Demon Kings… but that just means I've had to be more clever than the others. More resourceful."
With a flick of his wrist, Varus summoned a massive wave of ice that surged toward them, fast and deadly. Caelan barely had time to react. He and the others scattered, narrowly avoiding being frozen in place.
"Alright, this guy's definitely no joke," Caelan muttered as he rolled to his feet.
Elden unsheathed his sword, his gaze steely and focused. "Let's take him down."
Varus's laughter echoed through the chamber. "Oh, you can try… but this is my castle, my domain. Here, I control everything."
As Varus raised his arms, the ice around them began to shift and twist, forming into massive, hulking creatures—golems of ice. They roared to life, their eyes glowing with an eerie blue light, and charged toward the group.
Caelan's heart raced. This was going to be a fight like no other.
"Alright, guys," he called out, drawing his sword, "Let's show this guy what we're made of!"
With a surge of energy, Caelan dashed forward, light flaring from his sword as he charged toward the oncoming golems. The battle had begun, and they were in for the fight of their lives.
---
To Be Continued...