CHAPTER 489: 489. NEVE FORT

In the western reaches of the Snowfell Islands, where the land was nothing more than a desolate expanse of endless white, a young man staggered forward. His boots crunched weakly over the snow, leaving behind uneven trails of crimson.

Blood dripped from the corner of his mouth, painting a thin scarlet line against his pale face. His breaths came in ragged gasps, each one sending out a mist of frost that lingered briefly in the icy air before vanishing.

The vitality within him was ebbing away like a dying flame. Every step grew heavier, every heartbeat weaker.

"I won’t die here... absolutely not..." he muttered through gritted teeth.

His pace quickened, though his legs trembled as if chains were bound to them.

But the world was not so merciful.

A buzzing sound filled the air behind him—low at first, then swelling into a storm. A massive swarm of black, writhing insects blotted out the pale sky. Their wings thrummed like war drums, drowning out even the sound of the wind.

"Boy," a cruel voice rasped from within the swarm, "become my food, and I’ll grant you a swift death."

The young man clenched his fists, his eyes bloodshot. He refused to stop. With what little strength he had left, he scooped up a handful of snow and dirt, rubbing it over his body to mask his scent.

It was useless. The swarm was already fixed on his direction. Sooner or later, they would catch up.

"I still need to reach the East... I need to return... I must shine brilliantly again. I can’t die here. No one will make me submit."

The words were like fuel to his fading spirit. With a guttural roar, he forced his body to move, dragging his bloodied legs forward. For half a day he pressed on, his footsteps stumbling but determined.

But exhaustion was merciless.

At last, he collapsed into the snow, panting like a dying beast. His legs were as heavy as mountains, and his body no longer obeyed his will.

The buzzing grew louder— closer.

The swarm was upon him.

Whoosh!

A sudden storm rolled across the barren plain, the wind whipping snow into a raging vortex. The young man forced himself to lie flat, letting the storm bury him beneath a thick layer of snow.

The swarm shrieked, its voice filled with irritation. "You think hiding will save you?"

Before it could close in, two blazing fireballs streaked through the air, exploding against the swarm. Countless insects screeched as they were charred into ash, falling lifeless into the snow.

"Who dares!?" the voice howled. The swarm writhed angrily, its countless eyes scanning the land. Yet all that could be seen was a barren plain... and a snowman standing stiffly nearby, its carrot nose and stick arms absurdly ordinary.

Wait!, Snowman?

Suspicion brewed. The swarm encircled the snowman, tearing it apart. But inside, there was nothing.

The young man could hear the curses —vile words in a tongue not his own —before the swarm finally dispersed, searching elsewhere.

Silence returned. The storm howled faintly, and the ruined snowman melted into the background of the desolate white world.

Then, a small hand emerged from beneath the snow where the snowman had stood. The hand wore a gauntlet shaped like a lion’s head, its metal jaws gleaming faintly, golden eyes burning with heat. A thin wisp of smoke rose from the nostrils, as though the lion still breathed fire.

The snow shifted, and out rose a girl.

Her hair was short and fiery orange, its vibrant color like a spark in the endless whiteness. Her eyes were bright, a crystalline blue-green that shone with confidence. She wore a fitted black combat jacket and pants, trimmed with fur at the edges to ward off the cold. A leather belt hugged her waist, and the massive gauntlets— crafted in the likeness of roaring lions —covered her forearms, their enchanted glow flickering faintly as if alive.

She was striking, her presence both fierce and oddly warm against the frozen wasteland.

The girl glanced around to confirm the danger was gone before crouching and brushing away the snow. Buried beneath it was the young man, his body frozen and trembling but miraculously still alive.

She grabbed his arm with surprising strength and pulled him up.

The young man blinked, staring at her as if she were an illusion conjured by his dying mind. "T-Thank you... for saving me. A-are you... an angel?"

The girl tilted her head slightly, her lips curling into a small, confident smirk. "Angel? I’m no angel. My name is Yumina. Just a bounty hunter passing through."

Her voice was calm but carried the edge of someone used to surviving harsh battles. She dusted snow from his shoulders with one gauntleted hand, the lion’s head exhaling a faint puff of steam as it moved.

The young man’s lips trembled as he tried to speak again, but his strength gave out. Yumina sighed and shook her head. "Looks like you’ve been through hell. Don’t worry, I’ve dealt with worse than those bug freaks."

She glanced in the direction the swarm had flown. Her expression darkened briefly before returning to her confident smirk. "You’re lucky I was bored enough to follow their trail. Otherwise, you’d have been nothing but a frozen snack."

The young man chuckled weakly at her blunt words, though it hurt him to do so. "Then... I owe you my life."

"You can repay me later with some Lydias," Yumina said firmly. She adjusted his arm over her shoulder and helped him stand. Her lion gauntlets glowed faintly, releasing a subtle warmth that shielded them both from the cold.

For the first time since his ordeal began, the young man felt a glimmer of hope.

Yumina’s gaze turned eastward, her hair catching the pale light of the sun peeking through the storm. Her eyes narrowed with determination. "Now then. Let’s get you out of this frozen wasteland. I’ve got my own hunt to finish, and dragging along one half-dead boy won’t slow me down."

The young man smiled faintly, his vision blurring as exhaustion overtook him. But his last thought before darkness claimed him was clear:

She is cute...

┉┈ ◈ ◉ ◈ ┈┉

Somewhere on the other side of the Snowfell Islands stood a fortress unlike any other.

A towering structure of pure ice, its walls glistened like crystal beneath the pale northern sun. Every block was carved from enchanted frost, layered carefully over centuries. Locals called it Neve Fort, a landmark that had endured for over a thousand years.

"The Neve Fort has stood for more than a millennium," explained their guide, a towering seven-foot man whose body was a curious blend of beast and man. His legs were thick and furred like a polar bear’s, yet his face carried the rough features of humanity—complete with rounded bear-like ears twitching atop his head. "Those hired as maintenance staff and guards must know the ancient Ice Arts to keep the structure stable. In this frozen land the walls rarely melt, but tradition demands vigilance."

Floating at his side, tiny figures hovered in the air—Myrtle, Mana, and Lanny. Their small frames, alight with gentle energy, contrasted with the giant’s imposing build.

High above, the skies were littered with fragments of land—floating islands that drifted slowly like clouds across the horizon. The view was both majestic and unsettling, a reminder that Snowfell was a place where the natural and the mystical entwined.

"You mean to say," Myrtle spoke up, her brow furrowed, "that even with such protection, someone dares to make trouble here? I heard a Divine Seeker guards this island."

Before the polar bear man could answer, a violent roar shook the air.

BOOM!

A pillar of fire exploded skyward, its heat carving through enchanted frost. The shockwave shattered several ice walls, leaving behind a jagged hole in the fortress.

Myrtle’s eyes widened. The fire... it looked familiar.

Around them, guards and residents rushed toward the commotion, their voices sharp with alarm. Myrtle followed with Mana and Lanny at her side, her heart sinking as the scene came into view.

Her jaw nearly hit the ground. The feeling of déjà vu was undeniable.

Standing amidst the chaos was none other than Zuzia, the dragon princess. Flames coiled lazily around her like loyal serpents. At her feet, two lizard-like elves writhed in pain, their bodies charred black as they struggled to move.

"Prin—Zuzia..." Myrtle groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. "It hasn’t even been a single day since we arrived."

Zuzia turned her head with a snap, her expression shifting instantly, as if she weren’t the one who had just blasted a hole in the fortress wall. Her eyes darted around with faux innocence, though the smoldering flames at her fingertips betrayed her.

"Where is Brother Tyler?" Lanny asked timidly.

Zuzia froze, her eyes narrowing sharply before she turned away again, refusing to answer.

The group’s attention shifted toward the center of the fortress hall. There, sitting lazily upon an icy throne, was a red-scaled man whose draconic features gleamed in the frosty light. His presence radiated heat even as the icy seat beneath him refused to melt.

Surrounding him were several lizard-elf women, their winter coats tugged loose as they pressed close, laughing and clinging to him with flirtatious delight. The man roared with laughter, clearly reveling in their attention.

Yet the mood shifted swiftly.

One by one, the women shivered, a biting chill seeping into their bones. Despite their winter clothes, the temperature around them plummeted, unnatural frost creeping along the edges of the throne. Their flirtatious smiles faltered, replaced by unease.

The red-scaled man only grinned wider, unbothered by the sudden cold.

And Zuzia, standing stiffly nearby, clenched her fists.

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Author Here /⁠ᐠ⁠｡⁠ꞈ⁠｡⁠ᐟ⁠\ :

Quick reminder— Yumina, the girl with the lion gauntlets, came from the same world as Tyler, Ling Tian, and the others through Cultivation CC.