“All right! Peratha, start casting your magic! The cold is becoming unbearable,” The words coming out of Hazelmere’s mouth sounded much more like a statement than an order.
Peratha moved her hand around her staff as she chanted the incantation. The spell manifested itself after just a few moments. As soon as it did, Hazelmere and Mizette landed their hands on Peratha’s shoulders, pouring their mana in, which made the spell grow rapidly.
It engulfed the group of some two dozen people very quickly. There were five archmages in total, with Cybil and one more archmage serving as a back-up in case Peratha needed more magic to sustain her spell. The reasoning was that having the mages spend their personal, renewable mana is preferable to wasting crystals, even though they carried a whole bag of them.
A small group of soldiers surrounded them, led by Heartwell who had Vukasin right at his side. Kortan, the large soldier, went in front of the group, limiting everyone’s frontal sight. Heartwell insisted that the limited sight is a small price to pay for having a living shield up front, just in case. Moana was also with them, acting as a portable corruption detector.
“Why did you even learn this spell in the first place?” Hazelmere asked, “It is not like it is particularly useful. There is usually no need to warm yourself.”
“That was one of the first spells I have learned, once I became an archmage. It made sneaking out at night much, much easier. I didn’t have any other choice since my family is very rigorous, and you know how cold the nights can get.”
“What about the glow? Isn’t it quite easy to notice?”
“There is another spell which hides it, but I am not using it right now since it drains mana very fast.”
As they moved along, Heartwell realized something.
“Have you noticed that the ground is becoming harder and harder as we go? Our camp is swimming in the mud and yet, even though we’re just a few paces away from it, there’s no mud here at all. Sure, the ground is soft, but it isn’t muddy.”
“That certainly is strange,” Cybil agreed.
“Are you detecting any corruption in the ground, Moana?” Hazelmere asked.
“No … no corruption … but … like we agreed before … maybe I just don’t know … what I should look for …”
As they moved even further, they noticed the ground in front of them is getting progressively whiter.
“I guess this whiteness on the ground is the strange ice the angel mentioned. Still no corruption, Moana?”
“… no …”
“All right. A little bit further, and we will put some of that ice in the bottle, just like we agreed.”
“Who is going to touch it?” Peratha asked, “I certainly won’t!”
“Umm, any volunteers?”
After some time spent in silence, Heartwell barked: “Kabocha, you’re the volunteer!”
“Understood,” the soldier’s response was completely flat.
“Wouldn’t ‘yes sir’ be the proper response?” Hazelmere asked.
“I’m no sir,” Heartwell was very dismissive about it.
“Aren’t you knighted, for your service and all?”
“I’m a knight in title only, and there’s much more to being a knight besides the title.”
“Heartwell, I’m having some trouble getting this white stuff!” Kabocha complained.
“What’s wrong?”
“It turns into water as soon as I pick it up! It’s all mushy,” Kabocha said while shaking the water off his hands.
Soon, the others realized the same thing.
“What the … what is wrong with it? It is turning into the water as soon as we get anywhere near it!”
“Ok, ok, I have an idea. Everyone, stop moving!” Peratha commanded.You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
“What for?”
“Just stop, and you will see!”
Shortly after, she pointed at the edge of the spell surrounding them.
“See there, at the edge? It starts melting as soon as it gets inside the spell.”
“That’s not how ice is supposed to act!” Mizette protested, “It’s supposed to be more durable than that, not melt at the first sign of warmth!”
“Umm … Galizur did mention that … this isn’t the … regular ice … it’s something between the ice … and the water …”
“Great! How are we supposed to collect a sample then?”
“We could get some water, just in case. Maybe it is different somehow?”
“Kabocha, as soon as we move forward, I want you to rush towards the edge and put as much of that white stuff in the bottle,” came another Heartwell’s order.
“Understood,” accompanied with yet another flat response.
As soon as they’ve started moving, Kabocha ran forward, grabbing two fistfuls of the strange white stuff.
He turned around, looking very surprised: “It’s… it’s not that cold at all! It’s strangely … pleasant even … somehow refreshing.”
“Just put it in the bottle!”
“Oh, look at this! It’s changing shape in my hands! Huh, look! I can mold it like clay!” He combined the white stuff in his hands, making a hand-sized ball out of it.
“Oh, I see what the angel meant when he said it is between the ice and the water!” Mizette exclaimed, rather proudly, “It isn’t solid like the ice, but it still has a somewhat solid shape!”
“Stop playing with the damn thing and put it in the bottle!” Heartwell’s patience was slowly running thin.
“Understood.”
“I don’t think that is going to work,” Peratha complained.
“What won’t work?”
“It will melt in the bottle. We didn’t isolate the bottle away from the spell so, since the ice inside the spell is melting, it will melt inside the bottle too.”
Hazelmere stared at the empty space for a while before cursing: “Nail it! How will we gather any of it then?”
“I don’t think we can. And even if we gather some ice without the spell, it will melt as soon as we move it somewhere warmer. And there is no way we can run any tests in this cold.”
“I guess we will have to settle for the water then,” Mizette said, “who knows, maybe it is different from the water in our world somehow?”
Kabocha stuffed the bottle with melting ice as the group got moving again.
They continued like that for a while, until Kortan’s legs flew up in the air, making his body come crashing down onto the ground with a loud thud.
“Ambush!” Heartwell roared. The soldiers tightened the perimeter around the mages, their weapons at the ready.
They looked around but saw nothing.
“I heard nothing before he fell,” Vukasin whispered to Heartwell.
“Keep your eyes open,” after his bad experience with the portal, Heartwell had his sword drawn as soon as they’ve left the camp.
Still, there was nothing out there but silence and ice.
Which was eventually interrupted by Kortan’s grumpy voice.
“It looks like I’m ok. I guess I’ve just lost my balance.”
“Are you bleeding?” Vukasin asked.
“No, I have no wounds … it looks like I’m fine. Let me get up.”
Kortan rose up and made a few steps forward before his legs ended up in the air once again, making him curse.
“What’s wrong, Kortan?” Heartwell asked sternly.
“I can’t stay on my damn feet for some reason!”
“Vukasin, go see what’s going on!”
“Will do!”
Vukasin moved cautiously towards Kortan, but he didn’t stay on his feet for long either. However, he did realize what’s giving them a hard time.
“The ground, it’s extremely slippery! It’s as if it’s completely covered in grease! You can’t stand straight without losing your balance!”
“Is any magic involved?” Heartwell asked.
“No … at least it is not the magic as we know it.”
Heart let out a long, frustrated sigh: “I guess we aren’t being attacked by demonic monsters … yet. Come, let’s go see it for ourselves!”
Kortan and Vukasin still struggled to get back on their feet as the rest of the group approached them.
“Lay down until we figure it out. You’ll only hurt yourselves like that.”
Obeying their commander, they sat down on the ground.
“Even though we’re inside the spell, the ground is too cold!” Vukasin complained.
“And I can see why,” Cybil pointed below them, “you are sitting on some real ice.”
“Oh, that’s ice?” Vukasin started feeling the cold, rock-solid ground he was sitting on with his hands.
“That is a lot of ice!” Mizette commented, “It goes all the way to the top of the hill!”
“That is why they can’t maintain their balance. The ice can be polished to an extreme, and then it becomes really, really smooth. Some masterful ice mages can cast polished ice shards that can penetrate even the thickest armor if flung at sufficient speed.”
“You know an awful lot about the ice and frost, Peratha.”
“I have already told you, I have dealt with the ice mages before. You either learn their ways, or you get killed.”
“But, shouldn’t it melt when it gets inside your spell?” Hazelmere asked, “I mean, why has the other ice melted but not this one?”
“Hmm … I guess it has something to do with the frost. The ice mage’s power and the quality of her ice are directly linked to the intensity of frost she can generate. The lower the temperature of her frost, the higher the quality of her ice. It is probably because we are getting closer to the portal. The closer we are, the colder it gets. I did notice my spell got more costly over time, but I thought that is because I am slowly getting tired. The truth is, the spell needs to generate more heat because it is constantly getting colder.”
“How can we make the ice disappear?” Heartwell got straight to the point.
“You can always shatter it. It is said that true ice can be as strong as draconium, but it only exists in myths and legends, so shattering it should do the trick.”
“We have no hammers around here …” Heartwell put his free hand on his hip while lost in thought.
“You just need to crack the ice in one place. Then, the rest of it will shatter easily.”
“All right!”
Heartwell took the spear from the soldier next to him, thrusting it with all his might at the ice.
CLANG!!! THUMP!!!
“Thump? It’s not supposed to go ‘thump’ and it’s not supposed to bounce back!” He complained.
He lifted the spear, only to see that its metal tip was gone.
Looking back at the ice, everyone saw the strike left nothing but a tiny scratch on it.
“Are … you … shitting me?”