The forest embraced Kai like a long-lost son. The deep shadows between the ancient pines were no longer threatening; they were a cloak. The biting wind that sighed through the branches was not an enemy; it was a chorus whispering secrets only he could understand. He moved with an effortless silence, the snow barely crunching under his feet, his white hair and pale skin making him a ghost in the moonlit wood.
The rage that had fueled his confrontation had settled into a deep, frozen calm. He felt the Draconic Heartcore in his chest, a steady, pulsing engine of cold power. It was both a part of him and something alien, a sleeping leviathan nestled within his soul.
He found a small, rocky overhang shielded from the wind. It was a suitable place to take stock. He sat, cross-legged, and placed the pouch containing the Frost-Blossom on the ground before him. He untied the drawstring and carefully tipped the contents onto his palm.
The flower was breathtaking. It seemed spun from living ice, petals like delicate shards of frosted glass that caught the moonlight and fractured it into a thousand tiny rainbows. At its center glowed a soft, blue light, pulsing with a gentle, magical warmth. It was a paradox—a thing of cold that radiated life.
As he held it, a deep, familiar rumble echoed in the vault of his mind. It was Aurelis.
"A pretty trinket," the dragon's voice was laced with amusement. "A bauble that lesser creatures fight and die for. To you, Incarnate, it is a crumb when you have access to the entire feast."
What is it truly? Kai thought, knowing the dragon could hear him.
"A concentrate of elemental ice mana, refined over a century by this mountain's spirit. It can temporarily enhance a mortal mage's affinity or be brewed into potent elixirs. For you, it is… practice."
Practice?
"Your body is my legacy, but your will is still human. You command the Primordial Frost, the source from which mere 'ice magic' is derived. Consume it. Not with your mouth. With your Heartcore. Draw its essence into you. It will be a test of your control."
Kai nodded. He closed his eyes, focusing on the glacial river of power in his chest. He imagined it as a vortex, a whirlpool of infinite cold. Then, he directed his will toward the flower in his hand.
For a moment, nothing happened. Then, a wisp of shimmering blue energy, like visible cold, began to seep from the Frost-Blossom. It streamed toward the center of his palm, where his skin drank it in. He felt a surge, not of heat, but of intense, pure cold that shot up his arm and into his Heartcore. The sigil on his chest glowed brighter.
The flower in his hand began to dim. Its crystalline petals turned brittle, then opaque, like common frost on a windowpane. Finally, with a soft chime, it shattered into a fine, sparkling dust that sifted through his fingers.
The energy inside him swelled. It was intoxicating, like a strong drink, but clearer and sharper. He felt his senses expand. He could feel the individual snowflakes settling on the branches above him. He could sense the tiny, sleeping heartbeats of winter hares buried in their burrows. The world was suddenly more detailed, more present.
"Good," Aurelis's voice approved. "You have taken the first sip from the well of power. Remember this feeling. This is how you will grow. By consuming the essence of cold, by mastering the frost within and without."
The dragon's presence began to fade, but a final, warning thought lingered.
"But know this, child. The world has grown dull in my absence. It has forgotten the true nature of dragons. They will see your power not as a legacy, but as a mutation. A threat. The hunters will come. Be ready."
The voice was gone, leaving Kai alone with the humming energy in his veins and a new, sobering understanding. His transformation wasn't just about personal revenge. He was a walking anomaly, a creature of myth in a world that had moved on.
His musings were interrupted by a sound that did not belong to the forest.
It was the distant, frantic bellow of a animal in distress, followed by the sharp, guttural shouts of humanoids. Goblin voices.
Kai rose, his movements fluid and silent. The infused energy from the flower made him feel more alert, more powerful. He moved toward the sound, a specter gliding through the trees.
He crested a small ridge and looked down into a shallow valley. A scene of brutality unfolded below. A large, shaggy mountain ox was trapped in a crude rope net, thrashing wildly. Around it, five goblins—small, green-skinned creatures clad in ragged furs—were jabbing at it with rusty spears, cackling as they drew blood. They were harrying the beast, tiring it out for the kill.
It was a common sight in the borderlands. Goblins were pests, preying on travelers and livestock. A week ago, Kai would have had to carefully plan an attack, using terrain and surprise to even the odds. Now, he felt no need for a plan. He felt only a cold, dispassionate assessment.
They were in his domain. They were making noise.
He stepped out from the trees and walked down the slope toward them.
One of the goblins, a scrawny creature with a broken tusk, noticed him first. It shrieked a warning, pointing a bony finger. The others turned, their laughter dying in their throats. They saw a lone, pale human approaching. An easy target.
They raised their spears and charged, their simple minds seeing only another victim.
Kai didn't break his stride. He extended a hand, palm facing the ground between him and the charging goblins. He focused on the snow. He didn't just want to freeze it; he wanted to command it.
The Primordial Frost mana flowed from his Heartcore. The snow on the ground didn't just harden. It moved. It surged upward like a living wave, crystallizing instantly into a solid, jagged wall of ice, three feet high and studded with sharp, protruding spikes.
The lead goblins couldn't stop. They slammed into the wall with sickening thuds, impaling themselves on the icy spikes. The two behind stumbled over their fallen comrades, shrieking in confusion.
The fifth goblin, smarter or more cowardly than the rest, skidded to a halt. Its beady eyes widened in terror as it saw Kai's glowing blue eyes and the effortless power he had wielded. It turned to flee.
Kai flicked his wrist. A shard of ice, sharp as a dagger, tore itself from the wall and shot through the air with a sound like shattering glass. It struck the fleeing goblin in the back of the skull, and the creature dropped without a sound.
Silence returned to the valley, broken only by the panicked snorts of the trapped ox.
Kai walked up to the net. He placed a hand on the coarse rope. A touch of frost spread from his fingers, and the fibers became brittle and snapped apart like dry twigs. The ox, suddenly free, scrambled to its feet, gave Kai a wide-eyed look, and bolted into the forest.
Kai stood amidst the frozen carnage. There was no exhilaration, no disgust. It had been as simple as breathing. The power was immense, and it answered his will without hesitation.
He looked at his hands, then at the ice wall already beginning to melt under the weak morning sun. This was what he was now. A force of nature. A predator.
The dragon was right. The hunters would come.
But as he turned his face towards the distant lights of the first human town, a grim thought settled in his mind.
Let them come. He was no longer the prey.
He was the storm.