Generally, after a major storm, the weather on Nivis becomes calm. Only a bit of snow alongside a slight breeze is all the resistance Gunnar feels. Such weather is perfect for predators to be out and about.

Instead, after more than a dozen hours of walking, there have been few sighted wolves and wyverns, but none seem to approach. It's as though they are avoiding the group.

The [Frost Lord] looks to Boriss and the man's noticeable black wyvern-scale armor. The armor is like a beacon to any distant predator. It would be foolhardy to presume that Blizzard wolves wouldn't be cognizant of their presence.

It is only after the next hour, when they near their first campsite does a problem arise. He raises a hand in warning. "Stop."

The group halts, with each individual taking a readied stance.

"What's the problem?" The cat asks.

"Blizzard wolves near the entrance to the camp." He warns.

The cat frowns and stares. What Quasi sees is something of an ice-cave smothered in markings. At the entrance is seemingly just snow. As he continues staring, the cat's eyes widen in realization.

"The snow should be flat." Quasi remarks. "Are they under it?"

"Yes," Gunnar nods. "Blizzard wolves get their name because they create ambushes during a blizzard. They choose a location frequently traversed and then they bury themselves under the snow." He explains. "We're going to need to clear them out to set up camp."

Quasi hops off of Boriss's shoulder. "Sounds like a fight. I'll wait on the side and interfere if you need my help."

Gunnar snorts at the cat's confidence. A pack of Blizzard wolves is a threat to your average Expert, but he isn't average. He's lived on this island all his life and he'd slaughtered numerous packs on his lonesome.

"Fine by me." He grasps his axes at his sides. Then he looks back. Everyone readies their own weapons, most oozing confidence except for the young man with a dagger. Considering the weapon, Gunnar wouldn't be very confident either.

"Blizzard wolves like to stay mobile and strike from blindspots. They're intelligent hunters and have a bite strength strong enough to pierce your average armor. Try to keep your backs to your allies if you can and protect the mages."

After another long glance to make sure everyone is ready, Gunnar returns his attention to the threat. Choosing one of the larger mounds, he raises an axe and throws it. It strikes through with a squelch.

____________________________________________________

The wolf rises up with a burning pain. As the snow falls from its fur, the beast inhales, raises its head, and then howls to his pack. Its packmates wake from their slumber, ready for battle. They look around and immediately find the threat.

More howls rise up in warning. The pack forms up and moves to surround. As they approach, a familiar scent enters its nostrils. The pack slows and looks around for a moment, now wary of the group.

That wariness disappears as a human teleports next to the injured wolf, hand grasping the inserted axe. At the same moment, the other hand moves, the axe slices deeply into the wolves neck, severing through the spine and killing it.

As soon as that happens, all wariness disappears and is replaced with aggression. The pack numbering several dozens begin their hunt, with a third prioritizing the man who'd just executed their packmate.

While the battle begins, two felines watch from the sidelines.

__________________________________________________________

When I think of wolves in a tundra, I'm thinking something along the lines of huskies. A strong, fluffy breed built for the cold tundra.

I'm partially correct in my assumption. The wolves are fluffy and they do have many similarities to huskies. That resemblance ends with size. Blizzard Wolves are three to six times larger than a husky.

I kinda want to ride one.

About seventy wolves rush my team while thirty surround Gunnar. They rush the man, aiming for his throat, but the wolves are met with a clone of ice. As their teeth wrap around the clone, it explodes violently, ripping through fur and flesh. At the same time, Gunnar's position shifts rapidly. The man slices a limb, throws his axe, dodges, teleports, then cuts into a wolf's neck. They have numbers, but those numbers mean nothing if they can't pin him down.

While Gunnar dances, the rest of the team is holding their own. They've formed a circle with Anna and Nepenthes in the center, surrounded by everyone except Yuto. The [Samurai] is a short distance away with his Odachi raised, Wolves circle him warily on account of the two bisected wolves at his feet. Severing sky is created to cut through Fenrimorphs. Mere wolves, large as they are, are inferior opponents.

Regardless, Yuto knows that a single mistake can cost him his life. The man is poised and ready to react.

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

Nepenthes does the same, though the wolves seem to be far warrier considering her larger size.

As for the rest of my crew, it's clear that the wolves are wary of their numbers. They are looking for an opening to attack, but it's clear that the former [Gladiators] are making that difficult. Agris, Micheal, and Baldric shift poise and weapons to the wolves. Gino stays closer to the [Mages] while Boriss looks ready to...

Fucking Russian!

Boriss moves from the circlement with a shit-eating grin towards the largest wolf. His weapon is even sheathed, something the wolf immediately notices.

The wolf takes the bait and rushes the Russian. Boriss reacts with a hop to the side, then a jump into the air.

You've got to be kidding me.

He latches on top of the wolf, arm circling around the beast's throat. The wolf growls and rampages to get the Russian off, but Boriss only tightens his grip.

As the wrestling match continues, the [Mages] aren't idle. Blades of wind and spikes of ice slice and penetrate wolf hide, killing or maiming in equal measure. As more wolves die, they become more and more aggressive. Several rush at the mages, but the former [Gladiators] counter. Micheal spears a wolf through the eye while Agris and Baldric aim for the throat. Gino assists them as much as he can, but it's clear a [Swift Rogue] wielding a dagger isn't a good opponent.

Maybe I should give him a spear? Or a Gun!

After half the wolves are mere corpses dying the snow red, Boriss finally subdues his target. The wolf yips loudly as the Russian bites the beast's ear. It attempts to wiggle out of the Russians grasp, but eventually fails and gives up. Its tail, ears, and body drops down. The wolf ceases struggling and takes a submissive position.

Holy crap. He fucking did it.

Before anything else can happen, I feel a rumble as the weather instantly starts raging. Wind and snow circle violently in the area, forming something of a polar vortex. The wolves seem to sense something is wrong and immediately flee. Boriss's own catch tries to do the same, but the Russian keeps the beast still.

Something's wrong.

Looking at the converging winds, it seems to be nearing my crew.

Wary, I rush from my position and join the encirclement.

At the same time I arrive, Boriss drags his pet and Gunnar arrives with a teleport.

"Damn! He's here." Gunnar grimaces. "Everyone, kneel or you're dead!" He orders. The [Frost Lord] turns to the vortex and kneels to one leg. Anna rushes next to him and does the same.

My crew glances at me.

I wave a paw. "Do as he says."

Everyone kneels towards the vortex, even the wolf lowers its head in what seems to be fear.

Everyone except for me. The thought of kneeling did occur, only to be followed by some kind of disgust. Instead, I hop on Gunnars shoulder.

"What are we dealing with?" I ask.

Before he can answer, the vortex halts. The snow and wing converge in a burst of mana. Snow rises and shifts around the convergents, shifting rapidly into ice.

Then, all at once, the weather, the wind, the cold- all of it stops. What stands before us now is a house-sized cat created from billions of tiny shards of ice and covered with fur of snow. The monster tilts its head down, the ice crunching with the movement.

Its crystalline eyes peer at the group, halting momentarily on me. It's mouth moves. "Elsa, The Sovereign of Ice and Snow greets you, young one." The monster says in a pleasant, feminine voice. "I hope my domain is to your liking."

Oh shit! It's talking to me.

"It's pleasant, though a bit too boring for my tastes." I answer.

"Your Eminence," I hear Gunnar swallow nervously. "I sincerely apolog-"

"YOU DARE!" The Sovereign roars, the wind picks up and howls violently as ice and snow shake to the beasts will. "What reason have you to interrupt your betters? Do you court death?"

The monster sniffs, its eyes blink malevolently. "Ahhh, you are his spawn. It seems the leader of the city has forgotten who he serves." Ice forms and shifts, converging around Gunnar. The man's heart beats rapidly as he does his best to stay still. "It seems I must send a message," The ice travels up Gunnar's leg, freezing it. "And a reminder that your city exists precisely because I allow it to."

The ice moves up the leg and waist, rapidly freezing flesh and bone.

Welp, I better say something.

"As insulted as I am by his interruption, I would request that you leave him be for the moment. He is currently my guide and It would inconvenience me greatly if he were to die."

The Elsa seems to calm slightly. "A guide through my domain?" It glances at everyone else. "What of the others?"

"They are my servants."

The monster nods slowly and reassesses the situation. "I see. My domain is large and a guide is necessary." It returns its glare towards Gunnar. The ice recedes from the [Frost Lord] as fast as it had come. "Fine, I will allow this transgression to pass this once. But, the spawn must understand that he stands on the thinnest of ice." The monster growls. "I charge him with proper guidance for your safety. If even a hair on your body is found to be harmed, then the eyesore of a city will cease to exist."

I hear Gunnar gulp. The man is nervous, but also strong of will. Most would have moved or called out in the current situation.

"I thank you for your understanding." I say.

"Nonsense," The monster says happily. "Our numbers are few as it is. It would not do for me to hinder one who has yet to claim a domain." It's tail flicks left and then right. "Now, if you don't mind telling me, what is your objective on my island?"

"I need to visit the tower as fast as possible," I say truthfully. "I hear it's deep within the island."

"Mmmm," It nods. "The unyielding metal construct. It's indeed an interesting object, one many of the inferior species enjoy visiting." It turns its head to the left. "If you walk that direction, there is a fresh cave leading down to the main cavern system. From there, your guide should easily lead you to the tower."

"Sounds like a," I can't help but yawn. "Shortcut. Thank you!"

I yawn again.

"Damn, why am I so sleepy?"

The monster chuckles. "The weather here changes rapidly, requiring constant adaptation. With how young you are, it's no wonder you're exhausted."

The monster glances at the nearby cave. "Rest and recover there. If I have time, I will visit you once more so that we may converse when you are better able."

"Sounds," I yawn. "Good."

The monster nods once. "Sleep well and may your dreams be filled with the corpses of your foes."

The Sovereign of Ice and Snow quickly breaks and shatters into tiny pieces, the mana keeping the construct together all but disappears.

After half a minute passes, Gunnar raises his head and then looks at me. "What are you?"

I grin. "Why do you think Sovereigns can't obtain a class?" I ask.

The man's eyes go wide in realization.

"I've never heard- nobody has- I can't believe- How?" He asks, more surprised than frustrated.

I yawn. "That's my secret. Anyway, let's head inside, yeah? I'm quite sleepy right now."

The man sighs. He glances at Anna who offers him only a shrug. "Alright, but I'm going to want answers when you wake up."

"I might offer you some." I say, only to be distracted by a crunching sound.

All eyes turn to find Nepenthes biting into a wolf carcass, eating the flesh, bone, and fur with practiced ease.

The Phytonid tilts her head at the looks given her way. "Is something wrong?" She asks as blood and flesh drip from her mouth.

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