Episode 174

The stacking doll, once a demon, recognized just how tenacious this creature was. That small body radiated strength, resilience, and raw vitality.

Mir lay crushed beneath it, seemingly unconscious. Her eyes had rolled back, showing only white. Blood spilled across the floor, and her body looked battered and broken.

How many bones had shattered throughout her frame?

Any ordinary person would have died on the spot—but Mir still clung to life.

In the doll’s eyes, it wasn’t enough. This creature needed to be stamped out completely. It sprang into the air and slammed down on Mir’s body again.

One strike proved insufficient, so it struck two, three, then four times. The floor beneath them buckled, creaking under the assault. If the space below the corridor had been hollow, it would have collapsed entirely.

The doll knew the ground beneath the corridor was mostly packed earth, engineered to withstand its onslaught without giving way.

At last, when the giant doll confirmed that the small, troublesome creature had gone utterly silent, it turned its attention forward. Four more remained on this floor, and it tried to move toward the nearest enemy.

***

The Northern Snowfields were the Frost Giants’ home. For Mir, her homeland held almost no happy memories.

“Hey! Shorty!”

“I’m not a shorty,” Mir grumbled as she turned around.

Then her eyes caught the belly button of someone her own age. A teasing voice came from above. “Shorty! Where are you looking? Don’t you know you have to look people in the eye when you talk? What, trying to greet my belly button?”

There was no way he didn’t know. He had to know.

Mir often thought that although she was small, at least her mind was sharper than this stupid bastard’s. Still, she refused to look up. Lifting her head to meet his gaze would bruise her pride.

Instead, she stared stubbornly at the empty air. “Do you have something to say to me?”

“The day before yesterday, I saw Rakita’s brother. He’s already bigger than you! And he’s only four!”

Mir stayed silent.

“Hey! Shorty! Shame on you! Even the chief would want to throw someone like you into the icy lake!”

“Shut up.”

“What did you say? I can’t hear you because you’re the size of a rat.”

“Shut up—!” Mir’s voice suddenly grew loud.

As the other giant her own age winced and covered his ears, Mir took off running toward home.

“Father!”

She rushed to find her father, the chief of the Frostwolf Tribe and its greatest warrior.

“Hm? My proud daughter! What’s wrong?” he asked.

“W-why am I so small?”

Her father faltered for a moment.

Mir looked up at him with tears streaming down her face. Her proud father, who stood larger than most giants, felt unreasonably distant today.

“Father, am I really your child?”

“Of course! You are my one and only daughter!”

“Then why am I so small?”

“Well, as I said, growth varies from person to person. So someday, you too—”

“Someday, someday, someday! When will that day come? I’m already twelve…!” Mir cried, pulling at her hair. “I got teased today! I got teased yesterday too! I’ll probably get teased tomorrow as well!”

Her father hummed softly.

“I heard Larunda already leads his own pack on hunts. The day before yesterday, I saw him catch five ice boars bigger than me. And I was just fishing through a hole in the ice… At this rate, I’ll never be a warrior. I’ll be a disgrace to the Frostwolf Tribe… and to you, Father…”

Her father looked down at her, then lifted his only daughter into his arms.

Mir blinked, confused.

“Come with me for a moment.

“Father?”

Without a word, he hoisted Mir onto his shoulder and stepped outside.

Mir suddenly recalled Larunda’s teasing words. “Even the chief must want to throw someone like you into the icy lake!”

A shiver ran through her small frame. Is he finally going to abandon me?

Fear gripped Mir, but she dared not speak. Her father’s stern face looked harsher than usual—an expression more terrifying than anything she had ever seen.

Even if I am thrown away… I can’t help it… I am this small. Before she understood the word resignation, Mir already felt its weight. Perhaps falling into the icy lake was the fate she deserved. At least then, she wouldn’t trouble her father anymore. The thought brought no relief; tears slipped silently from her wide eyes.

“Mir, you can open your eyes.”

“Uhh? Wait…” The cold northern air bit at her skin. Her tears froze as they fell, making it hard to open her eyes.

Her father pressed his large fingers gently against her head. Though rough, his hands were warm. Mir loved the feel of his touch. It saddened her to think this would be the last time she felt it.

She wiped the corners of her eyes. “Father… what is under the icy lake?”

“What? Stop talking nonsense and look at this.”

Mir gasped and opened her eyes. Her mouth fell open in awe. “Wow…”

Before her stretched a vast expanse of snow and a pale lake of ice. Beyond it rose towering, snow-covered mountains.

“Take a good look at that mountain.”

Mir closed her eyes briefly, then opened them again. Halfway up the snowy slope, a large rock caught her gaze. No, it was too enormous and grotesque to be just a rock.

“Do you know the legend of the giant who once held up the sky?”

“Yeah?”

“That is our great ancestor, Ymir,” her father said, pointing at the rock.

Her eyes widened. Of course she knew Ymir, the Frost Giant. Every giant did. But this mountain-sized rock was Ymir?

“To be precise, it is the remains and tomb of Ymir, the Frost Giant.”

“W-why is it in a place like that?”

“That snowy mountain is the largest and tallest among all the northern peaks. It ranks among the highest mountains on the continent. One day, an unprecedented, massive earthquake struck the north. Countless mountains collapsed, and the earth split open. Many northern lives were lost, including our Frost Giants,” her father said, gazing at the icy lake. “That icy lake formed then.”

“I see…” she whispered.

“The highest snowy mountain stood firm, but the earthquake triggered a tremendous avalanche. Not just any avalanche—it was a catastrophe on an unimaginable scale. According to our ancestors’ records, it was utter destruction. Had it not been stopped, the blizzard would have wiped out all life in the north.”

Mir’s eyes blurred. Strangely, a vision she had never seen before appeared in her mind: an avalanche rushing down the world’s largest snowy mountain, as if the sky itself were collapsing. Fractured clouds tumbled down in endless waves.

“All the giants felt despair. Waves of snow poured down from the high peaks. Even to the giants, it seemed like the sky was falling. All giants are good warriors, but no one has the strength to stand against nature. Even the elders accepted the destruction as fate. Then Ymir stepped forward.”

From this point on, Mir’s heartbeat quickened.

“Ymir ran out alone, stretching his arms wide to catch the avalanche with his body. He bore the bitter cold that even Frost Giants could not withstand, and the crushing weight of snow that no fortress could hold back. It was a mythical sight—the great Frost Giant physically stopped a crumbling mountain.”

The girl named after Ymir asked, “How did he manage to do that?”

“Because everyone believed in Ymir. They trusted he would save them.”

“Isn’t that too much pressure?” she blurted.

Her father laughed. “I don’t think so. Ymir must have been happy. The most valuable moment in a warrior’s life comes when we repay that trust.”

Her father patted Mir’s head again. “Ymir, the great ancestor, the Frost Giant who stopped the avalanche of destruction, froze to death standing upright. Beneath the highest snowy peak, he left a magnificent legacy that will endure for thousands, even tens of thousands, of years.”

His gaze returned to the snowy mountain. “I found you beneath that very mountain. But you are my one and only daughter. Even when you were smaller, I would have seen you as a source of pride, never shame.”

“Really?”

“Of course. In fact, I believe you might be the rightful successor to Ymir’s bloodline.”

“Successor?” she echoed.

“That means the one who carries on his legacy.”

Successor, successor, successor…

Mir liked the sound of the word, quietly repeating it in her mind.

Her homeland held few good memories for her—almost none, in fact. Yet some did exist, and this was one of them.

On an unusually quiet day, standing before the icy lake and towering snowy mountain, her father’s voice rang clearly in her ears. “The giant who blocked the falling sky. The great giant who kept us from abandoning our home. He was like the greatest Titan, the one who once held up the sky in ancient legend… From that day on, the giants began to call Ymir by a different name.”

***

Mir opened her eyes. Her vision blurred, and her thoughts felt even more scattered. Still, one idea clung to her mind with relentless grip. Trust must be repaid.

That was a warrior’s purpose. Only by fulfilling it could she truly belong to the Frostwolf Tribe, take pride in the Giant name, and, above all, be called Mir. Until now, life had never granted her that chance.

“You? Stop joking around…”

Therefore, Charon Woodjack hadn’t been wrong. Even Mir found her own actions frustrating and somewhat foolish. No one believed in her, not even herself. And without trust, there was nothing to repay. That’s just how it was.

“You possess the greatest raw physical power…”

“When that happens, the only thing you can trust is your own body….”

“Small doesn’t mean weak…. Lend me your strength. I need you.”

That person had noticed that Mir had been training consistently. She had been acknowledged and finally heard the words she had longed to hear.

I will repay him. If so, it’s okay to break. It’s okay to fall apart. As long as I can stand now, I can die afterward.

A warrior repaid trust. This was what she had been taught and the path she chose to follow.

“Do you know… the legend of the giant who once supported the sky?”

As Mir’s muffled voice echoed out, the doll lunged again. Beyond its surprise that Mir was still alive, the doll was a weapon of slaughter and moved with lethal precision to silence its enemy.

The giant doll crashed down mercilessly toward Mir, who had barely managed to sit up.

Another deafening impact shook the ground. Yet this tiny creature proved stronger than expected.

The doll calculated silently. If four or five strikes were not enough, then it would strike ten or twenty times. It would crush the small figure so completely that her form would vanish. If she could no longer function as a living being, no matter how tenacious her spirit, she would no longer move.

Just as the doll tried to attack again, it suddenly realized that its body wouldn’t move. It felt as if it was firmly rooted in the ground.

The doll’s impression was wrong. The one planted firmly was not the doll, but Mir. Her small yet thick fingers gripped it with unnatural strength, piercing the doll’s sole and hooking like claws.

“I…” The voice came from somewhere beneath the doll, low and strained.

Mir rose, supporting the weight of a body dozens of times her size by sheer physical power alone.

“The daughter of the chief of the Frostwolf Tribe…” She straightened her knees. “A descendant of the great Frost Giant, Ymir…”

Her spine locked upright. “The rightful successor of the Titan Atlas.”

She endured the burden. Long ago, her greatest ancestor had held up the crumbling sky and prevented destruction. She could never match his legendary deeds, but she would at least uphold his legacy.

“With my small body and great pride, I swear…” Blood painted her smile. “You’re not getting past me.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep