CHAPTER 92: INTO THE WINTER REGION [III]

It took nearly twenty minutes before the ship finally lurched back into motion.

The Kraken’s corpse drifted in the distance, staining the ocean with ribbons of red, its bulk already drawing lesser monsters that circled like shadows in the water and were feeding on it.

On the ferry’s deck, silence clung like frost.

The crew worked quickly, though their movements were haunted, their eyes still flicking toward the waves as though expecting the appearance of another monster.

The two Executioners had been pulled aboard, but barely.

Their armor was shattered, weapons bent and bloodied, and their bodies were broken in ways only holy healing kept tethered to life.

They lay in the infirmary now, groaning under layers of bandages, their proud insignias tarnished with failure.

Everyone knew the truth.

They wouldn’t be fighting again for a long time.

Azel, meanwhile, had no such injuries.

He sat in their room with his daughter on his lap, her small frame curled against him like a kitten seeking warmth.

"Are you feeling better?" he asked, his voice low, steady.

His hand moved gently through her hair, untangling the strands that had been dampened by sea spray.

"Yes, Papa," Lillia said with a soft smile, though her little hands clenched his coat tightly. "But the monster was really big."

Her eyes shimmered with fear and awe, the kind only children carried after witnessing something that stretched beyond their imagination.

"Don’t worry, Lillia." Azel’s tone softened as he tapped her forehead. "One day you’ll be able to beat monsters like that in one hit, just like me."

Her head tilted back, eyes widening like saucers. "Do you really think so?"

He chuckled. "I know so."

Of course, the truth was she already could, if she pushed herself hard enough.

Lillia’s magic was raw and boundless — a terrifying flame waiting for shape.

But children needed hope, not burdens. He wanted her to learn steadily, spell by spell, without being crushed under expectations.

And there was another reason.

If his path through the Winter Region proved fruitful, perhaps he could secure a mentor for her — someone who understood the ice-born spells that only this land carried.

Those spells were treasures, known only to this frozen domain, and their inheritance could shift the balance of wars.

Already, even within the cabin’s walls, the air was growing colder.

It slid beneath the door like a living thing, turning their breaths into mist.

Azel reached into his storage ring and withdrew several coats.

[Item Name: Warming Coat]

[Item Rank: A]

[Description: A cloak woven from beast-fiber and star-touched wool. It rejects the bite of frost, carrying a warmth like firelight by a hearth. Even in the blackest blizzard, the wearer will feel as though embraced beneath a summer sun.]

He draped one across Lillia’s shoulders, tugging the hood over her head.

The fabric shimmered faintly as it activated, radiating gentle heat.

She giggled and wriggled closer into his chest, now more comfortable.

Another he handed to Medusa, who raised an elegant brow but accepted it with a small smile.

The last he offered to Edna, who held his gaze a moment longer than necessary before pulling it around her frame.

The soft red fabric contrasted beautifully against her pale hair.

"Aren’t you going to wear one?" Medusa asked, tilting her head, a hint of worry threading her voice.

Azel shook his head, lips quirking. "Cold never hurt me."

He stood, brushing a strand of Lillia’s hair from her cheek, then turned toward the door.

The truth was stranger.

Cold didn’t numb him.

Cold made him alive.

It sharpened his thoughts, steadied his veins, and stilled the noise in his body until he felt like steel refined in frostfire.

This was the first time he was feeling like this.

As the door closed behind him, Nyala’s voice chimed in his head, sultry and sing-song.

[Hubby, you make such a nice father.]

’Eh?’ He blinked, descending the narrow stairs to the deck.

[The way you care for Lillia — it’s adorable. I wish I was there to cuddle her too. Do you think our daughter would look like her? And will you treat her so kindly?]

Azel wasn’t sure if she was teasing or truly wistful.

But a smile pulled at his mouth all the same.

"If we ever had a daughter," he murmured, "I could never treat her badly. And if I did, you’d just throw me into orbit."

[Pffft—! Don’t tempt me, I would. Just for fun.]

He chuckled quietly, boots thudding against the deck as he stepped into the open air.

The sky was a bruised gray, heavy with gathering clouds.

Snow had begun to fall in lazy spirals, melting against the ship’s timbers but lingering on railings in a thin crust.

The cold sea stretched out in all directions, broken only by vast blocks of drifting ice that looked like jagged teeth rising from the abyss.

And clinging to those teeth, dozens of shapes moved.

The crew was already gathered at the bow, weapons in trembling hands.

The captain barked orders, voice hoarse with urgency.

Azel came to stand at the very front, the wind whipping his coat, his eyes narrowing at the creatures revealing themselves.

[Frost Monkeys]

[Rank 5]

Dozens of them clambered across the ice, their fur pale as snow, their eyes glowing with hunger.

Their long, frozen claws scraped against the blocks as they howled, the sound echoing eerily across the waves.

The crewmen shifted nervously.

Frost Monkeys weren’t the greatest threat of the Winter Region, but their numbers and ferocity made them deadly.

An entire pack could tear apart ships and devour crews in minutes.

Azel flexed his grip on his daggers, aura whispering across the blades like living fire.

’I feel like I could run a marathon.’

The cold was coursing through him, invigorating, every breath filling him with energy.

The first monkey leapt.

Azel moved faster.

"Third Style — Dragon Claw!"

The cry split the sky.

A vertical green slash tore from his left dagger, aura condensed into a shape resembling talons.

It ripped through the incoming Frost Monkeys, cleaving half their numbers in a single blow.

The explosion of force turned them into bursts of blue mist and blood, their frozen bodies shattering across the ice.

The survivors howled, enraged, scrambling forward.

Azel stepped off the deck, landing lightly on one of the ice blocks.

His aura flared, daggers humming with destructive rhythm.

"Come on then, filthy monkeys," he growled, a savage grin breaking his calm. "I’m ready for you."