Chapter 380: Apex puppy

His movement changed first. The heavy crunch of his boots vanished, replaced by a fluid, silent glide that defied the depth of the snow.

His eyes glowed with a terrifying, cold light that seemed to see through solid wood. Every muscle in his body coiled with a lethal, predatory grace. Most noticeably, the temperature around him didn’t just drop, it plummeted.

Naturally.

Frost began to bloom instantly on the trees he passed, and the forest, which had been alive with the sounds of distant birds, went deathly, terrifyingly silent.

The animals sensed it before the humans did: the King of the North wasn’t hunting for meat; he was death itself draped in blue velvet.

Ryse froze mid-step, his hand instinctively flying to the hilt of his sword. He wasn’t looking for elk; he was looking at Soren. “Do you feel that?” he whispered, his voice trembling. Thyren’s eyes were wide, his usual jokes dying in his throat. “What is he doing? I feel like if I breathe too loud, he’ll snap my neck just for the noise.”

The guards behind them were worse off. A younger man was literally backing away, his face pale as he gripped his spear so hard his knuckles turned white. A veteran guard whispered a prayer to the Old Gods. “In fifteen years of serving him,” the man muttered, “I have never felt this. This isn’t doesn’t feel like a hunt but rather a slaughter waiting to happen.”

Even Bjorn seemed caught between submission and primal excitement, his hackles raised as he mirrored Soren’s low, predatory stance.

Eris, who had been blissfully ignoring him for hours, stopped her silent treatment almost instantly. She didn’t feel fear, her own internal dragon essence recognized the frequency, but she felt the overwhelming, oppressive weight of his power.

It was like being in a cage with a hurricane. She stopped faking interest in the trees and stared at his back. Damn, she thought, her heart racing against her ribs. He’s… dangerous.

Truly dangerous. She had known he was powerful, but seeing the way the very forest bowed and went silent in his presence was something else entirely. He was a force of nature, a compelling, terrifying man that she suddenly found very difficult to look away from.

Soren, of course, was utterly oblivious to the fact that he was currently scaring the life out of every living thing within a three-mile radius.

His internal monologue was a pathetic contrast to his murderous aura: Is she watching? She has to be watching now. Look how silent I am. I bet Ryse can’t move this quietly. I’m going to get the biggest elk in the history of the North. I’ll bring it down with a single shot. That will impress her. Maybe if I take the shot from behind this ancient pine, the angle will make my shoulders look broader. Why isn’t she saying anything? Is she still ignoring me? I’ll kill two elk. No, three. I’ll kill the entire herd if I have to.

He paused, crouching low in the snow, his eyes locked on a distant movement. To everyone else, he looked like a god of war preparing to unleash a cataclysm. To Eris, who could now read him better than anyone, he looked like a man who was accidentally scaring away his own prey in a desperate bid for a “Good job, honey.”

She had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. The sheer absurdity of it, this terrifying, world-shaking power being wielded by a man whose only goal was to get his wife to stop being “mean” to him, was too much. She watched him nock an arrow with a precision that was borderline inhuman, his focus so absolute that the very wind seemed to stop blowing out of respect.

“Stupid man,” she whispered to herself, finally allowing a tiny, amused smile to break through her icy façade. “He’s going to scare the elk into the next province before he even draws the string.”

The clearing was a cathedral of frost, and the Snowback Elk were its silent congregants. They were massive, their ivory coats blending into the white landscape, save for the steam billowing from their nostrils and the jagged, ice-branch antlers that scraped the low-hanging pines.

Soren moved into his final position, and the air seemed to congeal around him. The predatory aura he had been radiating reached a crescendo; even the wind died, terrified to interfere with the trajectory of the Imperial Bow.

He drew the string. Frost raced along the shaft of the enchanted arrow, the runes on the bow glowing with a soft, lethal sapphire light. His form was a masterclass in ancestral memory, the wide stance, the steady breath, the absolute stillness of a mountain. He released.

The arrow didn’t just fly; it erased the distance. It struck the lead bull elk cleanly through the heart. The creature didn’t even have time to flinch before its legs gave way, dropping instantly into the deep snow. A clean kill. A mercy.

Across the forest, the distant whistles of Ryse and Jorel confirmed the sweep: three Frosthorn Deer and a dozen smaller game. The first day was an undisputed triumph.

Soren didn’t even wait for the echoes to fade before he spun around. The terrifying, world-shaking apex predator vanished in a blink, replaced by a man who looked like he was vibrating with the need for a gold star.

The murderous aura evaporated, leaving him looking bright-eyed and breathless as he searched for Eris. “Did you see?” he called out, the “Imperial Voice” replaced by a boyish lilt. “I got the bull! One shot!”

Eris straightened her cloak, slowly walking toward him over the crunching snow. She let the silence stretch for one last, agonizing second before a small, genuine smile broke through her mask. “Yes Soren, I saw it” she said softly. “Good job.”

Soren’s entire face lit up. It was as if she had handed him the sun. He looked ready to lift her up and spin her around right there in front of the bleeding elk.

Behind them, Thyren stared at the Emperor’s back, his jaw hanging slightly slack. “What the fuck just happened?” he whispered to Ryse. “The man was a god of death ten seconds ago. Now he’s… he’s a puppy. He’s a literal puppy.”

Ryse didn’t even look up from checking his own kill. “I have no idea, Thyren. I’ve stopped trying to understand the physics of their relationship. One moment he’s an apex predator, the next he’s a lapdog.” Jorel, passing by with a brace of rabbits, muttered, “They’re a perfect fit for each other for sure.”

As the sun dipped behind the peaks, the party pushed deeper into the ancient woods, reaching a clearing protected by massive rock formations that looked like the knuckles of the earth.

The temperature didn’t just drop; it became a physical weight. Lower than they anticipated. The air was so cold that the guards’ breaths froze in their beards, turning them into crystalline masks. Even the fires, fed by dry pine and magic, struggled against the oppressive, humid chill of the deep forest.

Eris watched the men. She saw a young guard shivering so hard his spear rattled against his armor; she saw the veterans fumbling with tent pegs, their fingers too numb to grip. She stepped into the center of the camp and closed her eyes.

A wave of dry, gentle heat radiated outward from her like a second sun. Within a thirty-foot radius, the biting wind died.

The snow around her boots began to retreat, revealing the dark, frozen earth, and the struggling campfires suddenly roared to life, fed by the magical oxygen of her presence.

The change was instantaneous. The guards, who had been huddled in their cloaks, began to gravitate toward her unconsciously.

They moved into the circle of her warmth, their shoulders relaxing as the feeling returned to their limbs.

Those who had been wary of the “Southern Tyrant” found themselves sitting near her feet, their bowls of stew steaming in the stabilized air.

Perhaps it was a good thing she came along afterall .

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep