The Ice Golem
The group split up for a moment. Osmon and Piske went to tend to the hungry Vidar, while Ion and Nidhogg peered down into the hole that had opened at the bottom of the pond.
A staircase spiraled downward inside the opening, the narrow steps twisting in a tight circle.
“Since Father must come with us, let’s rest a little before we descend.”
“Yes, understood.”
Osmon and Piske built a fire and began roasting meat. Vidar, clutching Lotte, nodded off in fits and starts.
Lotte’s eyes, fixed on Ion, looked unfocused, as if the wolf’s soul had left its body.
Lotte had been through a lot lately, constantly entertaining the senile king. Once this business was finished, Ion decided he would treat the wolf to plenty of delicious food.
After the meal, everyone prepared to head down. Ion opened the lid of the oil lantern he had received from the dwarf Dvalin of the Yetev Estate, refilled it with oil, and tied the strap around his forehead.
Nidhogg eyed the lantern on Ion’s brow and asked, “What is that? It looks like a torch you light with fire.”
“It is indeed a lantern. There is oil inside this cylinder.”
Ion showed him the lid and the wick attached to the end.
Nidhogg examined the device, then nodded. “I see. This way both hands remain free. Such a simple idea, yet I never thought of it.”
“It was made by a dwarf named Dvalin who lives in the Yetev Estate of the Norberg Kingdom. I obtained one that was used for exploring mines.”
“Ah, a mine. Yes, that makes sense.”
After studying the lantern a little longer, Nidhogg walked over to the frost ram he had ridden and rummaged through the saddlebags.
It seemed that no matter their status—even a king—dwarves all shared the same love for crafting things.
He dug through the bag, found what he needed, then turned his back and tinkered alone with rhythmic clinks and clangs. When he finally stood, he had straightened a metal ring from a saddle and wrapped it around a glass bottle, then hung the whole thing from a strip of cloth.
He filled the bottle with oil and a wick, then sealed the opening with a mixture of flour and dirt, leaving only the wick exposed.
He approached Ion and lit the wick.
“How is it? It won’t last long, but isn’t it similar to your lantern?”
“Yes. You made it so quickly, yet it’s remarkably close.”
“Coming up with the idea is the hard part. Copying it is easy.”
Nidhogg extinguished the flame on his own lantern, showed it to the other dwarves, and soon they too were rummaging through their bags. The sound of hammering filled the air as they each fashioned temporary lanterns.
Once the makeshift lanterns were lit and tested, the dwarves looked satisfied. Nidhogg smiled and declared, “Remember that this lantern was first created by Dvalin of the Yetev Estate in the Norberg Kingdom.”
The dwarves nodded solemnly.
They clearly respected the one who had first conceived such an object.
After Piske finished securing Vidar to his back with straps so the old king wouldn’t slip, the group was finally ready. They began their descent down the stairs.
Ion and the dwarves each had a lantern fastened to their foreheads.
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Ion led the way, followed by Nidhogg. Piske, carrying Vidar on his back, came next, while Lotte and the seneschal Osmon brought up the rear.
The staircase continued deep underground. It was so narrow that Ion could touch both walls by stretching out his arms.
The passage had been carved through hard earth and stone like a mine shaft, but the steps themselves were made of solid brick.
In cold regions like this, it usually grew warmer the deeper one went. Yet the farther they descended, the colder it became.
Everyone was dressed warmly, but there was no telling how much colder it would get.
They had descended for so long that even Ion was beginning to feel fatigue. Just as he wondered whether they should rest midway, a faint breeze brushed past them.
Soon the stairs ended and the space opened up.
The floor, walls, and ceiling were all constructed of brick. The passage had widened slightly and stretched onward, with a high ceiling above.
Lotte jumped down from Ion’s back, sniffed around, then barked to get his attention.
Woof!
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
Lotte pointed a paw toward one side.
Ion saw a slightly protruding section of the wall where oil was trickling down.
He struck a flint to light a scrap of cloth, then placed it in the groove.
Whoosh!
Flames caught in the channel at eye level and raced along the passage, illuminating everything brightly all the way to the far end.
He extinguished the lantern on his forehead and tucked it away.
The line of fire continued, but the end was still out of sight.
After a short rest to shake off their fatigue, they set off again.
Lotte once more carried Vidar on its back and followed the group.
Just as it had grown colder on the way down, the deeper they moved into the passage, the colder it became.
* * *
They endured the biting chill and finally reached the end of the passage. The entire far wall was built from large, bluish square blocks of ice stacked like enormous bricks.
Sensing something ominous, Ion drew his sword.
Everyone already knew that Ion was the strongest among them, so he took the lead.
He approached the ice wall and gave it a light tap with his blade. There was no reaction.
He planted his feet firmly, raised his sword, and slashed diagonally with all his strength.
Clang!
A faint line appeared on the hard ice.
It was solid, but repeated strikes might shatter it.
He was preparing another swing when—
—Grrrrrr—
The ice blocks vibrated faintly.
‘…!’
Ion stepped back. The dwarves drew their axes.
Nidhogg’s brow furrowed. “That couldn’t be…?”
“Yes, Your Majesty! It looks like a golem!”
Ion watched the ice blocks with tense eyes.
—Grrrrrr—
The cubic ice blocks scraped across the floor and began fusing together. Though it didn’t resemble a person, the head, torso, and limbs were clearly distinguishable.
Ion glanced back at Nidhogg. “Are golems usually shaped like this?”
“They come in all shapes. Some are made of large and small stones, others of bundled branches. There is a core somewhere in that body! You must find it!”
Nidhogg and Osmon took positions on either side of Ion, axes at the ready.
The ice golem, now fully formed, turned its square head—lacking eyes, nose, or mouth—from side to side as it surveyed the group.
“Password… speak it…!”
Password?
It seemed the creator of the seal had made this guardian to protect it.
Ion looked at Nidhogg. The dwarf king shook his head, glanced at Osmon, then finally turned his gaze to Vidar.
But Vidar was fast asleep on Lotte’s back.
Even when Piske shook him, the old king did not wake.
Then the golem’s voice rang out again.
“Password…. If you do not speak, I will attack!”
“Speak… the password…!”
Even after being woken, Vidar’s eyes remained hazy.
Ion turned his head and gripped his sword tighter.
“I will attack…!”
The moment the golem finished speaking, it swung its massive arm.
A huge ice fist cut through the air, sending a powerful gust rushing forward.
Given its enormous size, Ion had expected slow movement, but the attack was anything but slow.
He arched his back to dodge the arm, then surged upward, swinging his sword with all his might.
Clang!
The sound of metal striking solid ice rang out like two swords colliding.
Feeling the rebound, Ion dodged the next swinging arm and circled behind it. Meanwhile, Nidhogg and Osmon struck at the golem’s legs with their axes.
Clang! Clang!
The axes bounced off the hard ice.
The two dwarves immediately retreated, dodging the golem’s sweeping arms.
Now behind the golem, Ion delivered a powerful diagonal slash.
Clang! The impact sent a stinging jolt through his hands.
Before it had fully formed, faint marks had remained where his blade passed. Now that it was a complete golem, its body had grown even harder; not even a scratch was left behind.
The golem twisted its upper body around in a blur and swung again. Ion crouched low and backed away to avoid it.
He clenched his teeth.
“Pain is a sword that can cut through anything. If I cannot cut it, then my strength is still lacking!”
He had grown arrogant from the power he had gained so far.
He still needed to become stronger.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Ion and the two dwarves dodged the golem’s arms and struck back, but no matter how many times they hit it, they could not wound the creature.
Meanwhile, Piske continued shaking Vidar until the old king finally woke, wiping drool from his mouth.
“Your Majesty the Supreme King! An ice golem appeared and demanded a password. Since we could not answer, it began attacking! Please tell us the password!”
“I’m hungry…”
“Your Majesty the Supreme King! The password, please!”
Though his eyes were still unfocused, Vidar turned his head and watched Ion fighting the golem.
“…”
He slid down from Lotte’s back.
Then he rummaged through the pack Piske was carrying.
“Y-Your Majesty! Is the password in there?”
“…”
Vidar pulled out a silver mace.
Ordinary maces were shorter than a shortsword, but the one Vidar produced was longer—about the length of an arming sword.
It looked less like a mace and more like a wooden club.
Holding the mace, Vidar walked toward the fighting Ion and dwarves.
“Y-Your Majesty! It’s dangerous!”
Even as Piske tried to hold him back, Vidar kept walking. Then he hurled the mace toward Ion.
“Catch!”
“…!”
While dodging the golem’s arm, Ion reflexively caught the flying mace.
He held it in one hand and looked at Vidar, who shouted again.
“Strike it with that!”
Then the old king turned and shuffled back the way he had come.
Ion made a swift decision. He sheathed his sword and gripped the mace with both hands.
‘There must be a reason!’
Maces were usually swung from horseback with one hand to strike infantry below, but this one was long enough to be perfect for two-handed use.
Whoooosh!
As the golem swung its arm, Ion swung the mace to meet it.
Kaaaaang!
A much louder crash rang out than before.
Instead of bouncing off the hard ice, the two forces had collided with equal power.
‘This works!’
The attack was effective.
Against a solid mass of ice like this golem, a blunt weapon was far more effective than a bladed one.
Pain was an undeniably powerful weapon, but there was still a difference between a sharp edged blade and a blunt striking weapon.
Of course, if one possessed overwhelming strength that surpassed such differences, cutting would still be possible. Ion acknowledged that he was not yet at that level.
He struck the golem’s swinging arm with full force.
Kaaaaang!
He could not overpower the golem, but his strength was enough not to be pushed back.
He struck the swinging arm twice, then three times.
Clang! Kaaaaang!
While Ion and the golem clashed, Nidhogg and Osmon fell back.
“Father is using ‘Ascension’ properly!”
“Was that weapon such a thing?”
Osmon asked Nidhogg, who was watching Ion fight with admiration.
“The mace itself is slightly harder than ordinary ones, but that is not its true trait. It possesses the power to break evil.”
“Break evil…?”
“It shatters malevolent forces. It is not overwhelmingly powerful, but it has resistance against the undead and magic.”
“Ah! So that’s why…!”
Nidhogg nodded.
In the age of ancient heroes, many legendary weapons and magics were passed down, but only traces of them remained in the present.
Ion’s sword Pain, the mace Ascension he now wielded, and even this ice golem were all relics of that era.
It was only natural that objects from the same ancient period would influence one another.
“Indeed. It is well-suited for attacking magical beings like golems.”
“Is that why our attacks didn’t work? Because the golem is protected by magic?”
“Beings created by magic possess some resistance to ordinary physical attacks. It is not great—barely enough to call it minor. But that small difference matters a great deal. Still, if one has truly overwhelming power, it can be overcome. That, however, is something only the heroes of old could do.”
“As expected, Your Majesty, who traveled the continent in your youth, possesses great experience.”
Nidhogg gave a wry chuckle, lost in old memories.
“Travel? It was more like running away from home.”
Suddenly, a tremendous crash echoed.
Kaaaaang!
“Now the real counterattack begins.”
After the powerful collision, when the golem’s arm and the mace met again with full force, a different sound rang out—not the previous loud crash.
Crack… crackle…
The mace bit into the golem’s arm, and cracks spread across the ice.
The golem, unaware of the damage, swung its arm again. The cracks in the cubic ice block widened.
When it swung the already-cracked arm once more, Ion struck the same spot with even greater force.
Kwaaaang!
The ice block shattered into countless pieces that flew in every direction.
With one arm now shortened, the golem staggered. Ion seized the opening, closed in, and swung the mace at its leg.
Clang! The mace bounced off, but Ion immediately struck the same spot again.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
As the golem tried to regain its balance and raise its other arm—
Crrrrrack!
Cracks spread across its leg. Ion poured all his strength into one final strike at the same place.
Kwaaaang!
The ice on its leg exploded. The golem toppled backward with a heavy thud.
Ion immediately leaped onto the fallen golem and brought the mace down with his entire body weight.
Though all the cubic blocks looked identical, he chose to strike the one corresponding to the chest first.
The core was most likely to be placed in either the head or the chest.
Kwaaaaang!
As the chest ice shattered and crumbled, a white crystal became visible among the fragments.
Crunch!
He brought the mace down on the crystal, smashing it into tiny pieces.
Immediately, the ice blocks that had formed the arm raised to attack him collapsed all at once.
Thud! Thuuud!
This opponent had been different from any he had faced before.
The power that had seeped into his body felt somehow changed.
After slaying beasts or monsters, he had felt his senses sharpen. After battling strong humans, he had felt his strength and stamina increase.
This time, whether it was his imagination or not, the cold no longer felt as biting.
It seemed his resistance had risen.
* * *
Beyond the collapsed golem, the passage continued.
After a brief rest, the group moved deeper. At the end of the passage lay a circular chamber.
In the center of the round space stood a circular altar. At the center of the altar, a massive hammer stood upside down.
The hammer’s head perfectly plugged a hole of the same size, as if it had been placed there to seal it.
Thick red rust covered the hammer from head to handle, and black soot—like it had been pulled from a fire—clung to it everywhere.
Looking at the walls excluding the altar, there was a roofless circular kiln directly ahead. Beside it stood a brick water tank filled with clear water.
Despite its great age, the water inside was crystal clear, and fresh water continuously flowed from a small hole.
In the corner lay a thin metal bucket hammered from iron sheets.
Next to it stood an anvil.
Water, a kiln, an anvil—the basic tools of a forge were all present.
However, although black stones were piled inside the kiln, there was neither firewood nor any opening to insert it.
No one knew how to light a fire or melt metal here.
As one, the group turned to look at Vidar, who was playfully tugging at Lotte’s fur.
Anyone could tell at a glance that the hammer on the altar was the seal.
It was also easy to guess that the seal could be properly restored using the forge facilities.
Only Vidar would know the secret.
Nidhogg approached Vidar and asked quietly, “Father! How must the seal be remade? Please tell us!”
Vidar, who had been playing with Lotte’s fur with hazy eyes, looked at Nidhogg, then glanced around before fixing his gaze on the kiln embedded in the front wall.
Suddenly his eyes flashed. He pointed with his finger and shouted.
"When the kiln is lit,"
"strike the hammer!"