The Winter Queen half-opened her eyes. It had not been even a few minutes before a man in a white suit strode in through the grand entrance.
His white cloak billowed in the wind, and his wavy pale yellow hair did nothing to soften his imposing stature. Trailing behind him were not soldiers or guards, but several beautiful women known as “attendants.” Their luxurious robes failed to fully conceal their voluptuous figures, and faint smiles of indifference played on their faces—an arrogance that suggested nothing in the world could faze them.
What surprised everyone, however, was the utter seriousness etched across this handsome man’s features, rather than any trace of arrogance or carefree swagger. He seemed more like the stern, upright sentinel than the one being guarded. Unlike his clean-shaven cheeks and flowing locks, his eyes were fixed unyieldingly on the throne—on the Winter Queen’s form.
The hero, Orman.
He was one of the three chosen heroes of the Camiran Continent.
“Your Majesty, the Queen.”
He dropped to one knee in a symbolic gesture, but the women standing behind him merely inclined their heads before urging him on.
“Mr. Orman, you are the gods’ messenger. Why humble yourself before some petty queen?”
“…”
Orman made no reply. Without awaiting a command from the Winter Queen Nina, he silently counted to ten in his mind before rising to his feet. The Holy Sword at his waist clanged against its scabbard. A gust of frigid wind swept through the hall then, making his female attendants shiver, but Orman stood firm even as frost dusted his cloak. His gaze remained locked on the equally impassive Winter Queen.
She spoke first.
“Our Northern Border’s climate is rather biting. I hope you can bear it, hero.”
“The Winter Queen needn’t worry,” Orman replied, briefly closing his eyes.
“Have you found her?”
“If you mean the Elf Queen, then no. As I said before, we’re powerless to help. Her disappearance has nothing to do with me. You’d do better to suspect those beastmen on the verge of declaring war on us.”
“The Elf Queen is undoubtedly important.”
Orman’s grave voice reverberated through the palace like the edge of a blade, sending shivers through everyone present.
“Without her, a beastmen invasion is sure to follow. Do you truly have what it takes to handle their vast armies?”
“The Elf Kingdom’s fate doesn’t require meddling from some human just yet.”
“But you know full well—you can’t win without me.”
“…”
“Heh heh heh…”
The Winter Queen laughed.
In the face of the hero’s arrogance—or perhaps simple foolishness—she laughed with a trembling mirth.
“You really think I can’t handle those barbarians?”
She extended her hand, and ice spikes erupted from the throne, hurtling in an instant toward Orman and all his attendants. They halted abruptly just short of turning their skulls to pulp. Everyone but the hero staggered on the verge of collapse, their eyes wide at the sight of the queen with her frozen wings unfurled and the palace temperature plummeting over twenty degrees from her casual gesture. Consciousness nearly fled them.
“That’s far colder than an ice bath. Flame Magic—let’s see some Flame Magic…”
“But the fire… it won’t ignite. Has our fire magic been sealed?”
“No, the temperature’s just too low.”
The Winter Queen smiled, disdain gleaming in her eyes. Her earlier fatigue and boredom had given way to excitement after flexing her magic. She itched to test whether this hero truly lived up to the legends.
~~~
Orman, summoned to the Camiran Continent by the gods themselves, had toppled entire races single-handedly when they dared stand in his way.
Yet it was not his power that gave the Winter Queen pause, but the shadow looming behind him… the gods.
Killing Orman would surely provoke them.
“Your Majesty, if you seek a duel to gauge our respective strengths, that would be unwise—and out of character for your usual composure.”
Nina couldn’t quite grasp Orman’s intent. As she withdrew the ice spikes, she prepared a barb for this infuriating human, only for him to speak first:
“Moreover, Your Majesty, please don’t feign ignorance. The one I want you to find was never the Elf Queen.”
“Then who is it? Don’t have me chase phantoms.”
“Dolores.”
“…”
The name hung in the air, and the Winter Queen hesitated for several seconds. Orman seized the moment, pressing his advantage without mercy.
“The War God, Dolores, fled to the Northern Border. As queen, you wouldn’t happen to know nothing about it, would you?”
“Who knows? Some fool barges into my territory, stirs up trouble, and expects me to clean up his mess?” Nina shot back with sarcastic impatience, clearly loathing the very idea of taking orders.
Orman ignored her and pressed on with the conversation. “And that Miss War God is probably hiding in some corner, but without your help, she can’t hide anywhere. So tell me where the War God is.”
“Sorry, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Nina shot back firmly. She was starting to get angry now. If this hero named Orman kept up his rude badgering, she resolved to give the human a taste of the Northern Border’s signature punishment—ice and snow burial.
The two of them remained locked in deadlock. Orman’s maid didn’t join the fray. After warming her chilled body with the flame magic she’d barely managed to muster, she watched the silent clash between these two supreme powerhouses with keen interest.
Orman bowed his head, closed his eyes, and fell into thought.
A few seconds later, he looked up and said, “Here’s the deal, Winter Queen. I’ll give you seven more days. If you still refuse to hand over Dolores, our agreement ends for good. I’ll kill you and seize your Elf Kingdom.”
“Heh.” Nina let out an angry laugh, but the last thread of her reason held her back from striking. It seemed the mention of the Elf Kingdom had given her pause; she merely watched as his figure receded into the distance.
Only when the hero and his twitchy maid had vanished from sight did she let out a sigh. Even so, her gaze swept toward the spot where the hero’s maid had been, and she frowned in disgust, as if she’d spotted something filthy.
“…”
“So they’ve already planted spies right under my nose, have they? Who could it be? These heroes are nothing but trouble.”
A few minutes later, just as Nina was about to set aside her documents for a brief rest, a royal guard approached, knelt on the ground, and announced, “Your Majesty, someone outside the palace requests an audience.”
“Who now?” Nina’s eyes widened, but this time, a spark of anticipation softened her irritation. She could faintly sense a vast surge of magic drawing near.
The moment the guard spoke, Nina seemed to unwind completely for the first time. She covered her mouth and let out a few hearty, gentle laughs.
“They call themselves… ambassadors from the Demon Race.”
“Let them in.”
