Daroon gazed at Beuboa, his voice heavy and resolute.
"Beuboa, you must return to the Citadel."
Beuboa's large eyes widened even further. His feathers bristled slightly with tension.
"Understood. Leave it to me, Captain Daroon."
Daroon gripped his halberd firmly as he explained.
"Tirrellda and I will draw the minotaurs as far away from the Citadel as possible. Once they pursue us deep into the forest, the siege around the Citadel will weaken..."
Daroon paused for a moment, turning his gaze toward the Citadel. The bonfires encircling it still burned with a crimson glow, and amid them, the shadows of the minotaurs shifted ceaselessly.
The roars of the minotaurs and the clanging of their weapons echoed relentlessly from the Citadel's perimeter, carried by the wind deep into the forest with startling clarity.
"Don't miss that moment—open the gates. Relay this to the soldiers: Retreat through the forest to Damu on the sun side (east). They must escape while the minotaurs are chasing me."
Beuboa nodded, but his expression remained fraught with worry. His small beak trembled, and the white feathers around his neck quivered uneasily.
"But Captain, what about you..."
"Don't worry. I'm not alone."
Daroon looked at Tirrellda. Behind her shoulder, Hiyalkho still rotated slowly, emanating a cold light. The air around the sword had grown noticeably chillier, with tiny ice crystals orbiting the blade.
"Though, it must be cumbersome for you to translate everything Hiyalkho says each time..."
Tirrellda smiled and nodded.
"Ah, that's no trouble at all."
She raised her hand, pointing to Hiyalkho, and a soft blue light flowed from the sword. The light stretched out like a thin thread, touching Daroon's forehead. The moment it connected, Daroon felt a slight sting in his head, as if cold water were trickling down his brow.
"Now, you should be able to hear Hiyalkho's words directly."
As the light seeped into Daroon's forehead, a voice suddenly resonated in his mind.
"Oh! Captain Daroon! I am Hiyalkho! You can hear me now too!"
Daroon's eyes widened in astonishment.
Hiyalkho's voice was louder and clearer than expected, infused with vigor. It differed from the ethereal spirit voice he had imagined, but its solid, crystalline tone lingered distinctly in his ears.
"This is quite remarkable. To hear the spirit's voice..."
Daroon murmured. The sensation of the spirit's voice echoing directly in his mind was still unfamiliar.
"Me too! Do it for me as well! I want to hear the spirit's words!"
Beuboa fluttered his wings as he approached. His large eyes sparkled with anticipation, and his feathers stood on end with excitement.
Tirrellda laughed and sent the same light toward Beuboa. When it touched his small forehead, he recoiled in surprise, his wings spreading reflexively to regain balance.
"Wow! I can really hear it! Hello, Hiyalkho!"
Beuboa greeted enthusiastically, his voice brimming with childlike innocence.
"Haha! Muwa is polite too! I like it!"
Hiyalkho rejoiced, spinning even faster. The humming from the sword grew louder, and the surrounding leaves began to frost over in white.
"Alright, there's no time to waste."
Daroon closed his mouth briefly, steadied his breath, and then spoke in a low voice. His eyes narrowed sharply, and his jaw tensed with resolve.
"Beuboa, hurry back to the Citadel. Deliver my orders to the soldiers."
"Understood, Captain!"
Beuboa spread his wings in response. They gleamed silver under the moonlight, each feather sharply defined.
"Good luck! Come back safely! I'll wait on this tree until the minotaurs' attention is fully diverted!"
Leaving those words, Beuboa unfurled his wings and ascended to the top of a nearby tall tree. He crouched low on a branch, vigilantly watching the Citadel while holding his breath. His feathers puffed up with tension, and his eyes darted ceaselessly, tracking the minotaurs' movements.
Daroon and Tirrellda quietly moved to a position overlooking the minotaurs' encampment.
From the forest's edge, the encampment was brightly illuminated by dozens of bonfires. The minotaurs bustled about endlessly, preparing something.
One minotaur knelt, slowly grinding an axe against a large whetstone. The scraping sounds were short and low, and the blade, reflecting the firelight, gleamed as it sharpened progressively.
"Look over there."
Tirrellda pointed to a corner of the encampment.
"They're building something massive."
Daroon squinted and peered. Massive wooden pillars stood at haphazard, bent angles, their surfaces still bark-covered and marred by deep, unrefined axe gouges. The minotaurs were binding them tightly with thick, rough ropes—the knots crude and sloppy, yet forcibly secured. Irregularly woven wooden frames had iron components jammed in between, some twisted with sharp ends protruding outward.
"It looks like a siege tower."
"And over there too..."
Daroon pointed in another direction. On the opposite side of the encampment, another group was assembling a colossal catapult.
"They're seriously preparing to assault the Citadel."
"Then we must begin before it's too late."
Tirrellda pressed her lips firmly together, lifting her gaze steadily. Her eyes fixed unwaveringly on Daroon.
"Let's get started!! Tirrellda, hit 'em with your strongest!"
Hiyalkho cried out in excitement.
The blue light bursting from the blade flashed intensely, and in that instant, a chilling aura spread outward.
White frost began to form on the tips of Daroon's fur, and his breath turned to misty vapor dispersing in the air. A few strands of Tirrellda's hair froze solid in the cold current, glinting silver in the light.
Daroon nodded, looking at Tirrellda. A heavy sense of responsibility weighed on his heart. This plan had to succeed for hundreds of soldiers to retreat safely. Failure would mean everything crumbling.
"Then, I entrust this to you, Tirrellda."
Tirrellda drew in a deep breath. She closed her eyes slowly, composing herself for a moment. Then, opening them again, she extended both hands deliberately toward the minotaurs' encampment.
A faint blue glow rose from her fingertips, and tiny ice crystals began to sparkle in the air.
"Spirits of ice, dwell within the winds, awaken from the silence. Forge five keen spears."
Tirrellda's voice rang clear and resonant. As her words unfolded, the surrounding atmosphere shifted. A cold wind arose, scattering fallen leaves, and frost began to coat the branches.
"Wings of frostbloom, reveal yourselves in the tranquil frost. And pierce where my will reaches!"
As the incantation concluded, five enormous ice spears materialized before her hands.
Each spear was as long as Daroon's height, with transparent ice tips that gleamed sharply under the moonlight. Intricate frost patterns adorned their surfaces, and within, blue light undulated. The air around the spears distorted, emanating a potent magical force.
Hiyalkho, who had been orbiting near Tirrellda, changed direction and advanced before her. Whirling with a whooshing sound, it halted in front of the five ice spears.
"Come! Follow me, ice spears! I'll guide the way!"
Hiyalkho exclaimed gleefully. The cold aura emanating from the blade enveloped the five spears. More intricate ice patterns etched onto their surfaces, and the inner blue light intensified.
"Now, go!"
As Tirrellda thrust her right hand forward, the five ice spears launched simultaneously toward the encampment. Their sharp ice tips cleaved the air, leaving faint trails of frost in their wake.
Shortly after, Hiyalkho rode the cold currents upward. Weaving through the ice spears with swift penetration, it soon took the lead, hurtling toward the minotaurs' encampment.
"Ahahahahaha! This feels great already! Don't disappoint me, minotaurs!"
Hiyalkho laughed as it charged into the encampment. The light from its blade grew brighter, and the surrounding air cooled drastically.
The first ice spear struck the large central bonfire in the encampment. A tremendous explosion followed, scattering ice shards in all directions. The bonfire extinguished instantly, and five minotaurs nearby screamed as they were pierced by sharp ice fragments, collapsing. The cold aura spread from the embedded shards, freezing their wounds.
"Tí estin toûto?!" (What is this?!)
One minotaur shouted in alarm. An ice shard was lodged in his massive hand, and the area around it was gradually freezing over.
The second and third spears pierced through the tents in succession, exploding. The leather tents ripped and collapsed, and the minotaurs inside leaped out in shock. But several among them had already fallen to the ice shards, and the survivors were covered in white frost from head to toe.
The fourth ice spear plummeted directly onto the pile of weapons. Axes and spears mingled amid the ice debris, clanging metallically as they scattered.
As the cold-imbued ice assailed the weapon heap, wooden shafts snapped, axe blades cracked and shattered while frozen, and spear tips broke off. Splintered metal fragments littered the ground, exuding chill. Faint frost rose over the broken shafts and shattered blades, and the surrounding air rippled silently in distortion.
The fifth spear impaled a minotaur standing at the encampment's edge. The spear's tip burrowed deep into his body, and with a short gasp, he arched backward. The spear pierced through him entirely, embedding into the ground, followed by an explosion that scattered ice shards everywhere. The blast's impact hurled his body aside, bending at the waist, and his massive frame toppled sideways like a felled tree. Ice and blood-mingled debris littered the surrounding earth, and from those remnants, cold aura spread, blooming frost. The grass blades touched by the energy froze white without a sound.
In that instant, a wind stirred abruptly in the encampment's center.
Above the largest bonfire, where red flames had blazed, Hiyalkho surged upward. The blade spun rapidly, gathering dozens of ice shards, and with its emergence, the bonfire lost its glow as if breathless, then froze solid with a 'crack' sound.
In place of the vanished flames, only a deep blue icy radiance remained.
The air in the encampment's center froze, spreading with a crunching sound of ice forming, and Hiyalkho floated at its core. The cold-light-wreathed blade overlooked the encampment like an ice star fallen from the sky.
"Wahahahaha! What a perfect stage!"
Hiyalkho resounded with ecstatic joy.
As Hiyalkho's blade rotated and hummed, surrounding leaves shattered like ice, scattering into the air.
Then, the ice shards gathered around the blade transformed into small ice blades, hurtling toward the nearby minotaurs. The blades sliced through their arms and legs, and from the wounds, ice immediately spread.
"Now, let's really get started!"
Hiyalkho shouted while spinning in mid-air. Intense cold surged from its blade, instantly turning a 20-cubit (10-meter) radius into an icy realm. The ground froze over, and moisture in the air crystallized into sparkling ice, falling like snow.
"This is the power of the ice spirit!"
As Hiyalkho wheeled grandly, swinging its blade side to side, the surrounding ice crystals all transformed into blades, launching outward. Dozens of ice blades hurtled toward the minotaurs, tracing sharp trajectories.