Chapter 34 #3
Leukos crossed to the far side of the gate, breath settling into a steady rhythm.
His control still held—for now—and he meant to keep it.
He set both palms to the timber, frost crackling from his fingertips, racing over the stakes.
He reined the torrent in, forcing it to spread until the barricade swelled into a thick, gleaming wall of ice.
The Rasennans were trapped, their only choices to fight through the gate or flee into the forest.
A glance over his shoulder showed fresh enemy ranks pressing behind the shield wall, an unending tide straining against the Achaean line. Pelagios, Theo, and the others held firm, but fifty men could only withstand so much.
“Leukos!” Nik’s shout cut through the clash of steel. Leukos spotted him a short distance away, armour spattered with blood, locked in combat with half a dozen Rasennans. Encircled, their blades darting from every angle, Nik was being driven back. “A little help, please!”
Leukos released the palisade and sprinted to him. The first soldier in his path barely registered the threat before Leukos’ sword cleaved through his thigh. Another lunged; one vicious thrust drove steel through the man’s neck, hot blood spraying as he crumpled—buying Nik a heartbeat’s reprieve.
Without breaking stride, ice shimmered into being, jagged shards forming in the air.
A Rasennan grabbed his arm, but the moment contact was made, the limb froze solid, frost crawling up to the elbow.
With a sickening crack, it shattered. The soldier’s scream split the air as fragments of his hand fell to the ground.
Leukos didn’t spare the soldier another glance, his focus already on the Rasennan shield wall.
“Get behind me!” he barked at Nik. The frost swirling around him spread outwards, a deadly chill gripping the battlefield.
The Rasennans hesitated, fear flickering, their formation breaking. Seizing the opening, Leukos raised his hand. With a flick of his wrist, the icicles spun skywards, arcing high before plummeting down with lethal precision.
The soldiers never stood a chance. Jagged ice tore through armour and flesh alike, leaving mangled bodies strewn across the frozen ground.
Blood roared in Leukos’ ears, his vision tunnelling. Raw magic flooded his veins, every heartbeat a struggle for control. Pain throbbed in his skull, power pressing against his will, threatening to burst free and consume him.
More ice. More destruction.
He drove himself harder, determined to obliterate everything in his path. The Rasennans had shown his family no mercy—nor the villages they razed—and he would return that cruelty in kind.
There would be no failure. They had come for Alena, and he would freeze the entire valley if that was what it took to protect her.
His vision swam, black spots creeping at the edges. Something warm trickled from his nose—and then everything went dark.
When he opened his eyes again, he was on his knees, gasping for air.
The world tilted, his body drenched in cold sweat.
The deadly halo of icicles that had hovered at his command now lay shattered and melting at his feet.
The magic still prowled inside him, a caged beast clawing to be freed, but his body was spent.
Nik’s broad frame loomed ahead, holding the line. He beat back every soldier who tried to reach Leukos, the ground already littered with corpses. Yet the enemy pressed forward, relentless.
“Hang in there,” Nik gritted out, kicking one man back even as another’s shield slammed into his shoulder.
Leukos’ vision blurred again, dark spots clouding the edges. He was losing control, and the North Wind’s voice slithered into his mind.
Little prince, it whispered, cold and mocking. When I gave you my magic, I didn’t expect you to wield it as if you were a god.
Leukos gritted his teeth, thoughts fraying. “What do you care?” he spat.
I don’t, the god replied with cruel amusement. But should you fall now, it would be quite a loss for your rebellion. Your friend’s soul, however, would be mine.
Leukos’ heart clenched. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Nik still fighting, blood streaking his battered armour, frost creeping up his arm where the cold had begun to claim him.
And still he fought, swinging with the ferocity of a man who refused to yield.
Leukos couldn’t—wouldn’t—let his friend fall to such a cruel fate.
But the magic was too much. A torrent of icy power flooded his veins, threatening to tear him apart. His limbs trembled, his strength ebbing with every heartbeat. He felt himself unravel, the line between life and death thinning, the North Wind’s laughter echoing in his ears.
And then, through the haze, Alena appeared in his mind.
She stood at the far end of the camp, framed by the dark line of the forest. Amid the chaos, she fought—fierce, graceful, strands of auburn hair whipping free from her braid. With a swift, lethal strike, she cut down a soldier, her blade sure and merciless.
Gods, she was beautiful.
She’d grown stronger, her technique more refined, deadlier than before, and pride stirred in him despite knowing it wasn’t his doing. The and the wolves fought at her side, an unstoppable force tearing through the Rasennans.
Then Alena halted, her breathing ragged, her gaze sweeping the camp.
A warmth spread through his chest. Was she searching for him?
She wiped the sweat from her brow and turned towards the forest. The magic in her green eyes flared as she summoned the Huntress’ power.
The forest stood silent, the trees unnervingly still. Then, deep inside, Leukos felt it—a strange presence stirring, answering her call instead of the wolves.
“No…” He tried to shout, but his voice broke, his body betraying him. Panic gripped him as darkness closed in. “Get away… Don’t—don’t go into the forest—”
But the world had already faded to black.