King of the North - 1
Krag, the chief of the Iron Wolf tribe.
He had shattered the other two tribes and driven the Frost Fang tribe to the brink of annihilation. The surviving tribes had lost their spirit and bent the knee, meaning unification was just around the corner.
Krag was preparing to ride his momentum and finish off the fleeing Frost Fang tribe.
"What did you just say?"
"Chief, someone has appeared to challenge the Trial of Donetoungk!"
"Just the desperate flailing of the defeated."
Without any tribal council, someone had stepped up to take the Trial of Donetoungk.
At first, he hadn't thought much of it. He figured some warrior unhappy with Krag's conquests couldn't accept reality and was making a reckless challenge.
He's dug his own grave.
Not even the greatest warriors acknowledged by the entire tribe had returned alive from that trial. He had no idea which foolhardy warrior had taken it on, but the thought of them succeeding never crossed his mind.
But as days turned into weeks with no blizzard raging across the snowfields, Krag began to feel uneasy.
N-No way?
During the Trial of Donetoungk, no blizzards blew anywhere except the sacred mountains. It meant the challenger was still alive and kicking. As the clear weather dragged on, Krag grew increasingly anxious.
I have to unify the tribes and become the Great Chief of the North!
He craved power, but Krag had a compelling reason he had to claim the title of Great Chief.
The Iron Wolf tribe had always been the smallest and weakest among them—not elite in numbers, just plain feeble. They were subtly looked down on by the others, and tribesmen defected constantly.
To make matters worse, Krag had been born the chief's son, trapping him in a fate he couldn't escape.
He had seethed at the tribe's unchanging weakness. Then, an unexpected guest arrived.
A man cloaked in a robe emblazoned with the symbol of a black dragon. He spoke as if he knew Krag's plight and made an offer.
"I'll give you the power you lack."
"Get lost! I'm not weak enough to fall for that temptation!"
"It's not temptation—it's a proposal for cooperation."
"I don't need help from some outsider!"
"Are you sure? If you refuse, you and your tribe will be laughingstocks forever."
The man's words struck a raw nerve. Despite his tireless efforts, the tribe's situation hadn't improved. Defectors kept leaving, and the other tribes mocked the Iron Wolves every time.
A seed of greed took root in Krag's heart.
"What do you want?"
"I don't ask for much. Just keep shunning outsiders like you do now. Ideally, use the power I give you to become Great Chief and pick a fight with the Empire."
"Are you with a faction hostile to the Empire?"
"Exactly. If you're worried about repercussions, feel free to refuse or even report me to the Empire."
Krag agonized over it. Did he really need this mysterious man's power enough to ally against the Empire?
The answer in his head was yes.
The snowfields were the barbarians' front yard—overwhelmingly in their favor, the reason the Empire had never conquered the North.
Once the tribes united, even the Empire would struggle to defeat them. Besides, hadn't the Empire abandoned Lunaria as an eyesore? Krag assumed they had no interest in the North and accepted the offer.
"A wise choice. Don't forget our contract, and be sure to uphold it."
"GRRRRROOOOAAARRR!!"
Empowered by the black dragon, Krag gained strength on another level. At the gathering where all tribes tested their warriors, he crushed a great warrior candidate and proved his might. He swept through the other tribes, annexing them in a blaze of glory.
Meanwhile, contrary to his expectations, the Empire took interest in Lunaria's territory. Had the mysterious man foreseen the future? The question flickered in Krag's mind, but it didn't matter. He would honor the contract.
He rejected and sent back the first envoy from the Emperor.
"I'll unify the tribes before the Empire resorts to harsh measures!"
Fighting the Empire outright was too risky, so he sent them off with words of persuasion. But repeated refusals could spark war. He needed to unite the tribes first, so he launched full-scale invasions.
Everything was going smoothly, nearing the endgame.
"We can't let the challenger complete all the trials! Stop him at all costs!"
The Trial of Donetoungk threw a massive wrench in his plans, and Krag sprang into action. Abandoning everything, he climbed the sacred mountains with his warriors. Blizzards battered them, drakes attacked, obstacles galore.
Despite heavy sacrifices, he pressed on.
The path to Great Chief is right there...! I can't fall here!
By legend, whoever passed the trial would be hailed not just as Great Chief, but as King of the North.
Krag couldn't allow that. He reached the summit just in time—or too late. The challenger had passed the final trial, and divine light blessed the birth of a new king.
I can't accept this.
Krag glared at Hines, crowned with the Eternal Ice Crown. A pathetic body that hardly qualified as a warrior.
He might have bowed to a legendary great warrior, but Hines? No way. He resolved to kill him and seize the throne.
"We do not recognize the birth of this new king!"
The tribesmen who reached the summit with Krag shouted. They too refused to crown an outsider. Riding the mood, Krag provoked Hines, daring him to prepare for death.
And the disaster began.
The summit still bathed in warm light.
More precisely, sunlight shone gently only where I stood. One step ahead, blizzards howled, and ice spikes erupted from the ground.
"Those guys said they're gonna kill my contractor, right? Yeah? I didn't mishear?"
The ice spikes bloomed like flowers, shattered, split, and regrew. A blue aura of murderous intent rose from Cress's body.
One wrong move, and I'd be skewered, so I just watched.
"Can I deliver their verdict for them? Hmm?"
"Do whatever you want."
"Thanks!"
Cress kissed my cheek. For that instant, she was purely girlish.
But when she turned to the Iron Wolf tribe, she felt like an emotionless glacier.
"Death sentence."
Cress issued her merciless judgment, pointing downward. An elephant-sized ice block materialized behind her and hurtled toward the barbarians.
Those crushed beneath it were pulped. Red paint spreading across a white canvas— that's the sanitized version.
"Vulcan! Toila!"
The barbarian who witnessed his comrades' pointless deaths bellowed in rage. By his garb, he seemed the Iron Wolf leader.
His body changed—black scales sprouting across his skin.
"A traitor, huh."
A human who'd borrowed power from the evil dragon Nidhog.
No wonder an unheard-of tribe was conquering the North. The cult was using barbarians to block the Empire's advance. Considering their xenophobia, they'd targeted a weaker tribe for the contract.
Sighing at the cult's sleazy schemes to the bitter end.
"Cress."
"You called?"
"Could you spare the last one? Just subdue him if possible."
"Why?"
"Got a use for him alive. Kill him if it's too hard."
"If it's for my contractor, how could I say no!"
That was when the dragonkin barbarian leaped up, axe raised high. Cress had her back turned, honoring my selfish request.
As I opened my mouth to yell a warning, she smiled slyly and touched my cheek.
"It's fine. On these mountains, I'm the strongest!"
Before the axe could swing, the barbarian froze solid. Ice spread from his body, instantly forming a heart-shaped structure.
Trapped immobile inside the heart—which, landing behind Cress, perfectly symbolized her feelings for me.
"That panicked face—you were worried about me? I'm thrilled!"
I vowed never to do anything to earn her wrath. Staring at her ecstatic smile, I swore it.
"Alright! Time to head down and let the savages know—a new king has been born!"
"Huh? Weren't we gonna rest up here a bit longer?"
"I wanted some alone time, but seeing those barbarians made me think—there might be more down there who won't accept my contractor as king!"
Barbarian Emergency!!