Glacial Hounds lived and hunted with the chilling precision of a frostbite wind. Their packs were matriarchal, led by a female larger and more formidable than any male. A bristling ruff of ice-rimed fur framed her neck, akin to the winter mane of a cave lion. Over two meters tall at the shoulder, nearly five meters long from snout to tail, she was a monstrous creature of muscle and tooth, adapted to Veridia’s perpetual cold. They roamed in groups from a dozen to over a hundred, many direct offspring of the dominant female. Her command was absolute, her every growl and snap dictating the pack’s movements. These were creatures of the eternal night, their eyes glowing with an eerie phosphorescence, perfectly attuned to hunting under the pale, frozen moon. The Aetheric Salt Flats were their domain, a vast, merciless hunting ground. Frostfang Glacial Hounds surged forward with terrifying force. As mass hunters, they knew no fear, no hesitation. An individual, even an awakened like Kael, could be swept away in moments by such a tide. Most hounds fixed on the hulking form of Thane, but a significant number veered towards Kael, snarling. He had to act. Kael unleashed a blast of concentrated frost. A spear of ice shot forth, impacting the lead hound’s head with a sickening crunch. It collapsed, shattered, yet its comrades paid it no mind. More ice spears flew from Kael’s outstretched hand. Each one found a mark, felling a beast. His cryomancy, in its rawest form, was potent. Problem was, there were too many. Picking them off one by one was a losing battle. His mana reserves, still recovering from his collapse, wouldn’t last. Kael’s mind raced. He had to be efficient. He needed to strike down not just one, but five, even more, with each expenditure of power. That was the only way to stem the tide, to survive this onslaught. Managing his mana efficiently was paramount. He had to do it. No time remained for hesitation. He focused, drawing the frigid energy from the air around him, shaping it with a desperate will. Then, five crystalline projectiles, sharp as obsidian shards, burst from his palm. They streaked through the air, finding targets among the charging hounds. Wails of pain ripped through the cold air. Five more hounds fell, each pierced through the head with a coin-sized hole. He had divided his power, but condensed its lethality. Instead of an explosive impact, the ice now functioned as a piercing force, maximizing mana efficiency. It was difficult, a precise manipulation of his innate power, but the second volley came easier. Once he found the path, it became simpler to tread. Shush! Shush! Shush! Successive volleys of piercing ice shards erupted from his hand. Five hounds crumpled with each concentrated blast. He could hold them at bay, for now. Finally, Kael spared a glance for Thane. His eyes widened. Thane was a whirlwind of destruction. “Kekeke! More, more…” Thane’s maniacal laughter echoed across the flats. Around him, dozens of Glacial Hounds lay broken, their blood staining the pristine white salts crimson. Thane used no intricate skills like Kael. He simply swung his immense warhammer, Gjallarhorn, and swung again. With each brutal arc, several Glacial Hounds were pulped. Blood sprayed like dark geysers. Fur and flesh flew. The already blood-soaked ground turned a deeper, more horrific shade of red. Occasionally, a Glacial Hound’s fangs found purchase on Thane’s arms or legs. But their teeth couldn't pierce his flesh. His skin was harder than steel. Instead, the hounds’ fangs shattered against him. “Kekeke! That tickles.” Thane grabbed the head of a hound that clung to his thigh. His hand clamped down, crushing it with effortless might. The beast’s sturdy skull crumbled like brittle ice. He hurled the limp body towards the charging pack. Hounds collided, rolling in a heap, limbs bent at unnatural angles, bellies torn open. Thane ruthlessly slaughtered the Glacial Hounds. None dared to directly challenge him. Observing the carnage, the alpha female, who had watched from a distance, stepped forward. A frigid blue aura flickered around her entire body. She was at least a B-rank equivalent, possessing magical abilities tied to the eternal winter. Sparks of frozen energy crackled from the sharp, crystalline growths on her head. She wielded a primitive form of frost magic. A bolt of solidified ice shot from her head-spikes. It split the air, appearing before Thane in an instant. Thane, as if swatting a nuisance fly, merely waved a hand. The ice bolt vanished within his open palm. An intense sense of danger finally registered with the alpha female. This adversary was utterly unlike any they had ever hunted. She let out a piercing roar, commanding a full retreat. Struggling against such overwhelming power was futile. Half her pack lay dead. Their survival could not be guaranteed if more fell. Her judgment was shrewd. But Thane had no intention of allowing the Glacial Hounds to flee. Thane hurled Gjallarhorn. Spinning at a fearsome speed, it scythed through everything in its path. Mournful cries of the Glacial Hounds echoed through the moonlit flats. That scene of carnage froze Kael, even amidst his own battle. Thane’s actions were not finished. Thane pushed off the salt flats with incredible force, soaring into the frigid air. Gjallarhorn, having carved a path of destruction, arced back towards his outstretched hand. As Thane caught his warhammer, he plummeted straight towards the alpha female. He fell like a meteor, his impact as tremendous as a glacial chunk striking the earth. Amidst the alpha female’s desperate scream, the salt flats erupted in all directions. After a long moment, the plume of salt and ice settled, revealing the aftermath. The alpha female was utterly defeated, mangled beyond recognition. Only one of her crystalline head-spikes remained intact, embedded in the ground. Thane stood over the alpha’s corpse. Even after such a ferocious battle, not a hint of fatigue touched his face. He seemed invigorated, a faint, almost refreshed smile on his lips. He truly was not like Kael. Kael couldn't even dare to breathe loudly, completely overwhelmed by Thane’s power. ‘Is he even human? He used no apparent skills.’ Awakened individuals acquired unique skills. Their utmost power usually manifested when they unleashed those skills. Facing a formidable creature like the alpha, a skilled attack would have been most effective. But Thane defied all common sense. He had crushed the alpha leader purely with his own strength, without any named abilities. Kael couldn't comprehend such raw, inherent power. No cryomancer, no storm-caller in Veridia’s enclaves, possessed this kind of strength in their bare hands. At that moment, Thane turned his head and met Kael’s gaze. “Kekeke! You managed to survive.” Kael could only nod, unable to articulate a response. Thane chuckled, then knelt, collecting the intact crystalline spike from the alpha female’s head. “The fangs of Glacial Hounds are quite useful. These ones even have frost properties. Refined well, they make excellent weapons.” He examined the spike for a moment, then stretched out his hand. The spike vanished, as if it had never been there. ‘A spatial ability? He isn’t just a martial master but a sorcerer?’ Until now, Thane had displayed a fighting style rooted in pure, brutal physicality. Yet, he had just used a spatial ability, something only a tiny fraction of magic-attuned awakened could manifest. Kael’s understanding of Thane was shattered. A new thought surfaced: did Thane, who wielded Gjallarhorn, truly need another weapon? Kael didn’t dare ask. Thane sheathed Gjallarhorn and drew a small, utilitarian dagger. He tossed it to Kael, the blade glinting under the pale moon. “From now on, find your own food.” Thane’s voice was flat, devoid of emotion. “Most Glacial Hound muscle is toxic, except for the flank flesh. It’s safe to dry and consume from there.” Thane skillfully cut a portion of the alpha’s flank. It wasn’t a large amount, barely the size of an adult’s palm. Kael watched carefully, mimicking Thane’s precise movements. He knew Thane wouldn’t explain further. Kael understood that the cured meat Thane had shared earlier was monster flesh. Thane hunted these beasts for his sustenance. He had no objection. Kael had grown up in the precarious enclaves, where food was always scarce. If it was edible and aided survival, he would consume it without hesitation. Kael cautiously mirrored Thane’s actions. Thane cut only enough meat to last a few days, knowing he could always hunt again if he ran out. Kael, lacking Thane’s overwhelming power, needed to be more prepared. Securing as much meat as possible was advantageous. Kael managed to cut nearly thirty pieces. He wanted more, but his outerwear could only hold so much. He fashioned a bundle, slinging it over his shoulder. “Keke! You’re quite resourceful.” Thane’s wry laugh scraped the air. Even after two days of pushing his limits, Kael had much more to learn. To be truly useful, he would need to endure much longer, much harsher trials. “If you’ve got everything, let’s leave. Before others catch the scent of blood…” Thane spoke, not out of fear, but merely inconvenience. Kael nodded, following the older man. He, too, felt no desire to linger in this place of carnage. The first slivers of dawn were already painting the sky a ghostly grey. The slaughter revealed under the emerging light was even more gruesome. Scavenger creatures, drawn by the scent of death, were already circling overhead. More would gather for their feast. That was the law of Veridia’s frozen wastes. The strong preyed upon the weak, and the dead became food for others. No being could escape this law. Following Thane, Kael gradually began to grasp these harsh truths of survival. As usual, Thane paid Kael no heed, striding ahead. Kael pushed himself to keep up, manifesting subtle frost fields beneath his feet to hasten his pace. Given the extensive mana expenditure during the battle, Kael expected the effort to be draining. But, surprisingly, it wasn’t as tough as he thought. More mana remained than anticipated, and controlling it felt smoother, more intuitive. ‘It must be because of the battle last night.’ The experience of making life-or-death decisions in combat, pushing his mana to its absolute limits, had clearly forged a significant improvement within him. ‘I’ve grown stronger. And I will only grow stronger.’ Kael watched Thane’s broad back as they moved across the vast flats. He still didn’t understand why Thane was taking him along. But one thing was clear: Simply following this man would undoubtedly make Kael stronger. As long as he survived, that is. Kael diligently trailed after him, ice crunching underfoot.

Cry of the Salt Flats