Chapter 119: Chapter 119: The Peak

Three more days had passed.

Three days of relentless climbing, endless cold, and battle after battle.

Frosthide Bears, Glacier Maulers, Snowclad Yetis—the deeper they moved into the heart of Frostspire Peak, the more the creatures came.

And yet, they pushed forward.

Each fight left them more worn, but stronger.

Noel could feel it. The flow of mana within him was steadier, sharper with each passing hour.

Now, beneath the pale light of dawn, they rested on a narrow ledge—stone cold beneath them, wind screaming high above.

Noel sat with his back against the rock wall, breath steady, though fatigue weighed on every limb.

He murmured softly:

“Status.”

The familiar blue screen appeared.

[Current Core Progress: 08.13% – Mana Core: Adept]

He let out a slow breath.

’Looks like the last three days have been worth it…’

But as his gaze lingered on the numbers, another thought crept in—sharp and cold.

’The only bad part is the time left. I still have to extract the Frostpetals, get down the mountain, deal with Lady Vaelora von Iskandar, reach Estermont, make the medicine, and give it to Elyra’s mother… all in—’

Another chime echoed through his mind.

[New Mission: Treat the disease and save Elyra’s mother. Time remaining: 7 days.]

’Seven days…’

Noel clenched his jaw slightly.

Every second mattered.

There was no room for mistakes.

The final stretch was brutal.

Gone were the broad ledges and winding trails. Now, the path narrowed to jagged ridges and sheer rock faces slick with ice. The air was thinner, colder—each breath a sharp bite in the chest.

Noel led the way.

He moved with steady precision, every step deliberate, every hold tested before he trusted it. His blade was strapped tight to his back; here, his sword meant little.

His strength, his endurance—that was what mattered now.

A few paces behind, Selene followed.

She climbed in silence, her movements careful but slower. This part of the ascent was demanding in ways magic could not ease. Her breaths came harder, her limbs already tired from days of battle.

More than once, Noel glanced back.

He saw it in her eyes—the unspoken thought.

“You can go ahead without me.”

But she never said it. And he never left.

Each time they reached a ledge wide enough to rest, Noel would sit with her.

Without a word, he would pull a small water flask from his pouch, offering it to her first.

Then he’d unwrap what little food they had left, handing her a share.

He didn’t comment on her pace. He didn’t push her to move faster.

And that, in itself, said more than words.

As they sat on a narrow ledge once more, wind howling past the rocks, Noel watched the swirling snow ahead.

’Now that I think about it… we’re running low on food.’

He glanced down at the nearly empty pouch beside him.

’I’ve been eating less these days. I planned the rations for me and Noir, but since Noir is evolving, I’ve had more for myself. And since I brought Selene—something I shouldn’t have done originally—rations are running out faster.’

He looked toward her again—watching as she drank the water slowly, cheeks flushed from the climb.

’But it’s fine. As long as she can eat properly.’

Another gust of wind swept the ledge.

Noel stood, extending a hand to her.

“Ready?”

Selene looked up. No words this time—just a quiet nod.

Together, they pressed on—step by aching step—toward the peak that waited high above.

The climb had turned brutal.

Each meter gained was a battle of will against biting wind and sheer exhaustion. The rock faces had grown slick with frost; their hands were raw from the cold, their breaths shallow and sharp.

But step by step, they pressed on.

Now, at last, the slope began to ease.

Noel reached up, fingers finding the final edge of stone. With a last pull of aching muscles, he hauled himself over—and the world opened before him.

For a moment, he stood frozen.

The peak stretched wide beneath a sky of endless blue.

They had climbed above the clouds.

A vast sea of soft white stretched out below them, the peaks of distant mountains breaking through like islands. The sun hung low in the sky, casting long beams of golden light across the sea of clouds.

Far to the north, beyond the jagged spines of Iskandar, lay the glittering line of the ocean, vast and infinite.

Noel exhaled slowly, breath misting in the thin, cold air.

They had done it.

He turned, reaching down toward the ledge below.

“Come on,” he said quietly.

Selene’s hand met his without hesitation. Her grip was steady, though he could feel the fatigue in her fingers. With a firm pull, he helped her over the final ledge.

Together, they stood on the summit.

The wind here was sharp, but strangely clean—carrying with it a profound, icy silence.

And across the peak… they saw them.

Frostpetals.

Thousands of them blanketed the summit like a field of stars.

Each bloom was shaped like a delicate tulip, its petals formed of crystalline cyan-blue ice. Within each petal, currents of pure mana shimmered faintly, glowing with an inner light. It was not a cold, dead ice—but something alive, thrumming with power.

Noel stared, breath caught in his throat.

’We made it.’

For a long moment, neither of them spoke.

Above the clouds, beneath the endless sky, it felt as though they stood apart from the world—alone in a place of ancient, untouchable beauty.

Then, slowly, Noel’s gaze sharpened.

There was still work to do.

They stood in silence.

The summit of Frostspire Peak stretched wide around them—silent, gleaming beneath the pale sun. The wind whispered softly now, almost reverent, as if even the mountain itself held its breath.

The field of Frostpetals shimmered beneath their feet.

Selene took a slow step forward, her gaze moving across the sea of cyan-blue blooms.

“It’s beautiful…” she whispered.

Noel nodded once, though his eyes had already narrowed.

A faint unease coiled in his chest.

The silence felt unnatural—heavy, expectant, as if the mountain itself was holding its breath.

He stepped slightly in front of her, voice low.

“Don’t move.”

Selene froze.

Her brow furrowed. “What’s wrong?”

Noel didn’t answer.

Slowly—carefully—he slid one arm toward his Dimensional Pouch, fingers moving with deliberate calm.

Inside, his hand closed around a set of small, cold black orbs.

He drew them free, eyes never leaving the field ahead.

Selene’s voice came again, quiet but tense.

“What are those?”

“Sleep grenades,” Noel replied softly.

A pause. Her voice steadier now.

“For what?”

His grip tightened around the orbs.

The air changed.

A deep, sharp screech tore through the sky:

“HIAKK!!”

Snow burst upward from the center of the field.

Petals scattered into the air as a massive shape surged from beneath them—throwing frost and ice in all directions.

A Wyvern.

Its body gleamed pale blue, scales shimmering like frozen glass. Its long neck arched upward, eyes burning with cold light. Massive wings spread wide—ten meters across—casting a great shadow over the peak.

Its underbelly flashed white against the dark stone.

The creature’s breath came in great clouds of frost. It coiled slowly, rising to its full height.

The Frostpetals trembled beneath it.

Noel’s heart pounded once, hard.

Beside him, Selene stood frozen, her wand gripped tightly in one hand.

And high above, the wyvern’s wings began to beat—slow at first, sending swirling gusts of snow across the summit.

It had awoken.

And it had sensed them.

“For that.”

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