Three formidable monsters inhabit the Frostfang Tundra. The Frostclaw Direwolves, which hunt in tightly coordinated packs. The Icedrakes, soaring through the frozen skies in smaller groups. And the most fearsome of them all, the Frostmane Yeti. A solitary but devastating force of nature.

Standing over four meters tall, the Frostmane Yeti's body is covered in thick, shaggy fur as white as freshly fallen snow, streaked with frost-blue patches where the cold has seeped into its very flesh. Its mane, a jagged cascade of ice-encrusted fur, runs down its back like a frozen crown, earning it the name "Frostmane."

Beneath its fur, dense, sinewy muscle grants it monstrous strength, capable of shattering boulders with a single swing of its massive arms. Its claws, long, curved, and serrated like icicles, can rip through armor as if it were parchment. Each step it takes shakes the ground, leaving deep prints in the snow that rapidly freeze over, erasing any trace of its passage.

But the Frostmane Yeti is more than just brute force. It wields the very essence of winter itself. The air around it is unnaturally cold, its mere presence lowering temperatures and coating nearby surfaces in frost. In battle, it can unleash its signature ability: Blizzard Howl, a deafening roar that calls forth a violent snowstorm, blinding its prey and sapping their strength with bone-chilling winds.

Orin reacted first, hurling an Enhanced Flameburst Flask. A fiery explosion erupted on impact, searing through the beast's frozen hide. Darwyn followed up immediately, unloading his remaining charges of Sticky Bombs in a rapid succession of detonations, sending shards of ice flying in all directions.

I didn't waste a second. summoning Gorgroth once more, I commanded the beast to spit its Viscous Goo, a thick, sticky substance that splattered onto the Yeti's limbs, slowing its already lumbering movements.

The Frostmane Yeti let out an ear-splitting roar of pain, then retaliated by pounding its massive fists into the ground. A tremor surged through the tundra as an avalanche of ice and snow cascaded toward us in a devastating wave.

Muradin, who had only just recovered, was struck again, sent hurtling backward with a painful grunt.

"Shoot! That attack is ridiculous!" Orin cursed as she rushed to his side, avoiding the Avalanche Slam.

Fortunately, the two Icedrakes had already been dealt with. That meant we could focus entirely on the monstrous Yeti.

Gritting my teeth, I grabbed Muradin's hammer, stepping forward to join the assault. We needed to finish this fast. The Eternal Chill effect was reaching critical levels. At this rate, our movements were reduced by nearly 75%.

There was no turning back now.

Elena pushed forward alongside me, activating her Toxic Aura. A sickly green mist spread through the battlefield, its corrosive energy seeping into the Yeti's thick fur.

"Keep pushing! It's slowing down!" she called out, sweat dripping down her face from both exhaustion and the strain of using her abilities.

Meanwhile, Gorgroth and Phantom worked in tandem, shooting web-infused arrows and sticky green liquid to keep the Yeti from moving freely.

Orin, now nearly out of potions, resorted to throwing every last one she had like a madwoman, each flask shattering against the Yeti's icy frame. Then, with a determined glare, she began charging up her Mana Bomb, the last and strongest ace up her sleeve.

The battle raged on, our bodies growing sluggish, our strength waning. We were at our limits.

Muradin, ever the reckless warrior, took a deep breath and raised his shield high while the rest of us scrambled to evade the incoming attack.

"Heh, let's see you break me, you overgrown furball," he muttered with a grin just as the Frostmane Yeti slammed its colossal fists into the ground.

An avalanche of ice and snow surged toward him with terrifying force. But this time, unlike before, Muradin didn't get flung backward. He stood firm, his boots digging into the icy terrain as his shield absorbed the brunt of the impact, shimmering weakly under the strain.

We didn't waste the opportunity. From the sides, we relentlessly assaulted the beast while I channeled every buff I had into Muradin, preparing him for a counterattack.

[Bastion Strike cast]

A brilliant flash of energy erupted from Muradin's shield, slamming into the Frostmane Yeti's massive frame. The beast let out a deafening roar, its towering form staggering from the impact.

Behind the Yeti, Elena, just as stubborn as Muradin, continued her assault. Arrows flew from her bow, embedding themselves in the monster's thick hide as her Toxic Aura seeped into its flesh.

[Quick Draw cast]

With a swift motion, Muradin discarded his shield and drew two enormous battle axes. Lifting them high above his head, he brought them down in a devastating double slam against the Yeti. A deafening crash echoed through the tundra.

Lightning crackled upon impact, surging through the Yeti's body as it howled in agony. And yet, the beast still fought back.

It lashed out, one massive claw catching Muradin and hurling him several meters away. Elena, too close to dodge, was struck by a wild kick, sending her rolling across the ice. Gritting her teeth, she hurriedly reached for a healing potion, gulping it down before forcing herself back to her feet.

"Everyone, get back!" Orin shouted.

She raised her staff, the tip glowing with overwhelming energy. A fully charged Mana Bomb, now massive with accumulated power, crackled in her staff before she hurled it straight at the Frostmane Yeti.

The explosion engulfed the beast in a brilliant blue detonation, sending a shockwave rippling through the battlefield.

As the light faded, the Frostmane Yeti collapsed, unmoving. Its massive body shimmered before slowly disintegrating into particles of light.

We had won. But there was no time to celebrate.

"Move! We need to get to the portal!" I shouted, already forcing my stiffened legs into motion.

The effect of Eternal Chill was nearly at its peak. If we didn't escape now, we'd be trapped here forever. The portal stood just ahead, but every step felt like wading through an invisible force holding us back.

[Eternal Chill Effect Increased – Movement and Attack Speed Reduced by 85%]

With only a few meters left, our bodies gave in to exhaustion. Running was no longer possible. We were barely crawling, our limbs coated in ice, dragging ourselves inch by inch toward salvation.

The portal flickered, waiting.

***

A golden light radiated from above, illuminating the Altar of Purity. From the open canopy, a delicate fairy descended, her golden harp in hand, plucking ethereal notes that wove a melody of serene beauty. Grindella floated down gracefully, enveloped in a pure and divine glow, before she began to sing:

"In the frozen breath of the Frostfang wind, You walked where others dared not tread. Through icy storm and beastly might, You brought the shadows to the light.

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With steel in hand and hearts aglow, You battled through the winter's foe. From towering yetis to dragons' breath, You conquered fear, defying death.

Oh, champions brave, the tundra's pride, Your names will echo far and wide. In frost and ice, you stood so strong, Your victory's song shall last life long.

So raise the banner, let it fly, The monsters fall, the shadows die. In Thalorien's woods, we sing with cheer, For those who dared and brought us here."

As the final note lingered in the air, Grindella ascended once more, her golden radiance fading along with the celestial glow. The altar remained still, yet something new now rested in its shallow basin. A single, semi-transparent Soul Fragment, glowing a mystical blue-grey. It had taken the place of the ten Frostclaw Direwolf Soul Fragments I had offered earlier.

Muradin let out a low chuckle, rubbing his chin before speaking. "Yeah, I won't breathe a word about this secret. Not even when I'm drunk."

I shot him a warning glance, to which he simply grinned.

Elena, her eyes gleaming with excitement, gently lifted the Soul Fragment, her fingers tracing its smooth surface. Within its depths, the spectral form of a majestic, far more fearsome version of the Frostclaw Direwolf stirred, an aura of power radiating from it. However, her enthusiasm dimmed slightly when she sighed. "Geez, too bad my slot is full..." With a resigned pout, she carefully tucked the fragment into her pouch.

"Thank you, Erynd, for keeping your promise," she said, flashing me a smile so radiant it almost rivaled Grindella's divine glow.

I felt my face heat up instantly. "I-It was a team decision," I stammered, struggling to maintain composure. "Everyone agreed we should visit Frostfang Tundra for this."

Darwyn smirked, nudging me with his elbow. "You're so awkward."

Muradin let out a booming laugh. "No complaints from me, lad. Following your plan paid off, didn't it? We didn't just walk away with this fancy fragment. We snagged a Soul Fragment from Celerion and Frostmane Yeti, plus a mountain of Mana Stones."

Darwyn crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. "So, Erynd, when's my turn? Gonna help me get stronger too?"

"If you get any stronger, you'll just get more insufferable," I shot back, smirking.

Darwyn gasped, clutching his chest in mock offense. "You wound me."

Elena giggled. "Just admit it, you like having Erynd fuss over you."

Muradin shook his head with a grin. "You two are impossible."

As the laughter faded, we all took a moment to breathe, the reality of our victory settling in. The bitter cold of Frostfang Tundra still clung to our bodies, but the warmth of triumph burned just as fiercely within our hearts.

Fortunately, the flow of time here and in Frostfang Tundra was different. That meant we still had over seven hours to rest inside the Sanctum of the Wayfarer before continuing our journey through the dense northern forest to the next area.

The portal, the very one that had granted us access to the secret area, was gone, sealing itself shut the moment we stepped back here.

***

"So this is the Northern Glades…" Orin breathed in awe, her blue eyes sparkling as she took in the breathtaking landscape. "I've only ever read about it in books."

The Northern Glades was a serene, almost otherworldly region nestled in the northern reaches of the first floor of the Tower. Here, time seemed to slow, as if the land itself existed in a dreamlike trance.

Unlike other regions, the Northern Glades were not meant for aimless wandering. Each clearing, each glade, was its own isolated pocket of the world. Travelers could only move forward by overcoming the trials that bound them.

"Ugh, more fog. Why is there always fog everywhere?" Muradin grumbled, waving a hand in front of his face as if to clear the mist.

The glade we had entered was one of hundreds scattered across this ethereal land. I had deliberately chosen this one for a reason. It provided a direct path to our next destination.

Orin squinted, scanning the surroundings before nodding in sudden recognition. "I think I know where we are… I've read about this place before." She hesitated for a moment, as if searching her memory, then snapped her fingers. "Glade 51, Whispering Hollow."

I raised an eyebrow, genuinely impressed. She had identified the place faster than I expected.

Whispering Hollow was one of the more enigmatic glades, shrouded in a perpetual veil of mist. At its center stood a massive monolith, covered in intricate rune carvings that pulsed faintly with an ancient energy. We could see the carving of the number 51 and the glade's name on top of it.

The moment we stepped inside the clearing, the towering trees that had surrounded it shifted. The ancient oaks and silver-barked birches, once standing at a respectful distance, now creaked ominously as they moved, closing in behind us. Within seconds, every path we had come from was gone.

I exchanged a wary glance with my companions. No turning back now.

Without hesitation, we made our way toward the monolith. As Orin placed her hand on it, the runes began to glow softly, and then, without warning, a soft, calming whisper echoed from within the stone.

"I have many faces, but no eyes to see. I hold all that is past, yet cannot move. I speak without words and tell tales without sound. What am I?"

A riddle.

I barely had time to process the words before Muradin, arms crossed impatiently, snorted. "Hah. Many faces but no eyes? Sounds like some kind of blindfolded cult."

"Muradin, wait…" I reached out too late.

The monolith pulsed. The soft blue light of its runes flared into a deep, searing red.

A sharp hiss filled the air. The once-cool mist that had swirled harmlessly around our ankles grew thick and heavy, then suddenly turned blistering hot.

We all screamed in pain.

Orin, caught off guard, stumbled and let out the loudest shriek of all. My skin burned as the mist licked at it, turning red from the searing heat. Every breath felt like inhaling steam, each second stretching into an eternity of agony.

Then, just as suddenly as it had come, the torment faded. The glowing runes on the monolith shifted from an angry crimson back to a soft, pulsing blue. At the same time, the mist cooled once more. But now, it had thickened, rising all the way to my chest.

And then the whisper returned.

"I have many faces, but no eyes to see. I hold all that is past, yet cannot move. I speak without words and tell tales without sound. What am I?"

This time, no one dared to speak.

The five of us stood frozen, breaths shallow, hearts pounding against our ribs. I could almost hear the gears turning in everyone's heads as we struggled to think. This riddle… it wasn't the same as the ones from the game.

Darn it.

My mind raced, desperately searching for an answer. Seconds dragged by, and I noticed the glow from the monolith's runes beginning to shift. Slowly, ominously, back toward red.

Elena panicked first. "A crystal ball! A fortune teller's crystal ball!" she blurted out.

We turned to look at each other, fear stark on our faces. The tension hung thick in the air, suffocating.

"AARGH!" Orin's scream cut through the stillness as the mist flared to life again, its scorching heat searing into our skin with even greater intensity. I clenched my teeth, fists trembling as I fought the urge to collapse.

This time, the pain wasn't just skin-deep. It clawed into my lungs, setting them ablaze with every shallow breath I took. My eyes burned as if they had been doused in acid, and even my insides throbbed with unbearable agony.

But the worst part? It lasted longer than before. Almost twice as long.

I gritted my teeth, trying not to cry out.

"Erynd…" Darwyn's voice was barely above a whisper, strained with his own suffering. "Are you… are you still with us?"

I swallowed hard, my throat raw. "Yeah… still alive. Barely."

Then, just as suddenly as it came, the pain ebbed away. A chill crept through the air, prickling against my skin.

The mist thickened, swirling higher and higher until it swallowed us whole. The world beyond it vanished.

I shuddered. "I hate this place."

Orin let out a shaky breath. "Tell me about it."

From the monolith, the voice came once more. Soft. Calm. But laced with a silent, deadly warning.

"I have many faces, but no eyes to see. I hold all that is past, yet cannot move. I speak without words and tell tales without sound. What am I?"

I sucked in a sharp breath.

This was it.

If we failed again, there would be no next time.

I raised a hand, silently motioning for everyone to stay quiet. For a brief moment, I considered summoning Gorgroth, my beast companion. Maybe it could carry us out of the mist, giving us more chances.

But no, that wouldn't work. Even if Gorgroth could lift one or two of us, there's no way it could carry all five of us, especially while withstanding the heat of the mist. Someone would be left behind.

There had to be a real answer.

I closed my eyes, focusing, replaying the riddle over and over in my mind.

A thought. A possibility.

Please let this be right.

Heart pounding, I parted my lips and spoke, my voice barely above a whisper.

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