The howling cold wind sliced through the endless white expanse of the Eternal Frost Tundra like icy razors. Fa and her companions followed closely behind Golg's figure, which resembled a moving fortress. Each step sank deep into the knee-high snow, producing a chilling "crunch." The "Eternal Frost Resister" thermal backpack prepared by Karim was operating at full capacity, and the "geothermal core" strapped to their waists emitted a continuous warmth. Yet, the tundra's bitter cold seemed alive, seeping through every layer of protection, attempting to freeze their blood and marrow. With every breath, the exhaled white mist instantly condensed into tiny ice crystals, clinging to their eyebrows and the edges of their cold-weather masks.
"External environmental temperature: minus thirty-four degrees, wind speed level seven, perceived temperature approaching minus forty degrees. Geothermal core operating load at 83%, energy reserves estimated to last seventy-two hours." Rex's cold mechanical voice remained clear amid the wind, his electronic eyes scanning the vast white surroundings, continuously collecting data. "Recommend maintaining movement; heat loss increases by forty percent in stationary state."
"Five days..." Tisk wrapped his thick fur coat tighter, his beard encrusted with ice, his voice muffled. "The old lizard's rations sure hold off hunger, but in this damn weather, I feel like even the lava in my hammer is about to freeze!" He patted his Lava Hammer at his waist, the runes on the hammerhead flickering faintly, emitting a barely noticeable heat that just managed to dispel the chill around his feet.
Walking in the middle of the group was Yuyuer, his disguised lizardman face showing obvious pallor. Without the support of his exoskeleton, trudging through deep snow on two legs alone was extremely taxing on his stamina. More crucially, this dry, extreme cold environment far from the sea made the fishman blood flowing in his veins instinctively feel repelled and weakened. He gripped his Dragonbone Staff tightly, the crystal orb emitting a faint blue light, struggling to maintain the stability of his illusion disguise. Each breath carried a stinging chill.
"Yuyuer, are you holding up?" Arya approached with concern, channeling a thread of warm life energy through the Star Resonance Stone.
"I'm... I'm okay," Yuyuer forced a smile, his voice trembling slightly. "Just... missing the warm seawater a bit."
At that moment, a gentle yet vibrant emerald glow lit up within the group, drawing everyone's attention. The focus was on their new companion—the Forest Oathkeeper, Lin Ya.
Lin Ya's emerald body, composed purely of life energy, was undergoing a wondrous transformation. It walked silently, countless tiny mycelia strands flickering with star-like lights extending from its root-like "feet," probing into the deep snow like living things. Astonishingly, these mycelia were not frozen by the severe cold; instead, they greedily absorbed the pure water elemental energy contained in the ice and snow, as well as the thin but infinitely precious sunlight particles piercing through the lead-gray clouds and sprinkling onto the tundra.
Visibly, Lin Ya's body seemed to be slowly "growing." The jade-like branches forming its body became sturdier and more solid, with clearer and deeper textures, and the life glow it emitted grew warmer and brighter. The few tender leaves symbolizing its "hair" on top were edged with a faint silver sheen, like condensed morning dew. It even slightly raised its "arms," the tangled branches unfurling as if embracing the unique energy of this extreme cold land.
"Lin Ya... are you alright? This environment for you..." Fa looked at this ancient nature spirit with some worry. The humid decay of the Inkdark Forest contrasted starkly with the bitter cold desolation of the Eternal Frost Tundra.
Lin Ya turned its serene "face" outlined by light, shadow, and wood grain, its gentle thoughts brushing over everyone's minds like a spring breeze: "Fa need not worry. Cold is not extinction; it is also a cycle of life. Ice and snow are slumbering water, containing pure essence; faint light is the fire of hope, igniting the pulse of life. Though harsh, this place is pure in essence. I absorb its power not to resist, but to understand, coexist, and grow. This pale land also tells its story." Its thoughts carried a sense of openness and joy, as if discovering a hidden spring in a thirsty desert.
"Ha! Looks like this icy wasteland suits our tree brother just fine!" Jack shouldered his "Thunderer" rune rifle, his mechanical prosthetic eye scanning Lin Ya, grinning. "Great, now our team has a self-heating, photosynthesizing heater!"
Golg halted, his sturdy nose twitching forcefully in the biting cold wind, like the most experienced tundra hound. He turned his head, his grayish-blue face showing the orc's characteristic focus, looking at Kayla: "Warrior woman, do you smell it?"
Kayla mimicked him, her bronze nostrils flaring, her ice-blue vertical pupils sharply scanning the swirling snow mist around them: "In the wind... icy shards, a stale rot like dead rats... and a very faint blood scent... rust mixed with scorched machine oil! Very weak, but definitely there! Direction... northeast!" Her orc instincts were heightened to the extreme on the tundra.
A rare hint of approval appeared on Golg's usually expressionless face. He pounded his thick chest forcefully: "Good nose! On the Eternal Frost Tundra, eyes are deceived by the 'White Devil' (referring to snow mist), ears filled with wind. But scent is the true trace left by earth and wind, the best guide for hunters!" He pointed in the direction Kayla had sniffed out. "That smell, cold, not belonging to the tundra—it's residue from metal and energy left days ago. It's the scent of the 'masked one' you're seeking."
He took heavy strides, adjusting the team's direction, and in a low voice, he described this land he once knew so well: "My tribe, 'Frostfang,' once camped further north in 'Howling Wind Valley.' There are exposed black rock walls to block wind, underground hot fissures—though not as warm as the south, we could survive." A flicker of nostalgia in his eyes. "Food? Tundra wolf meat, hard as rock, but roasted soft, it's strength to live. Ice crystal scorpion tails—remove the venom sac, the meat's sweet. The best..." He licked his lips, revealing sharp teeth. "'Thick-armored ice worms'! Buried in the deepest, thickest snow layers, like giant white grubs. Dig them out, peel the frozen shell, the inside meat—raw! Cool, slippery, with the fresh sweetness of snow water. One bite, and your whole body surges with energy!" He looked at the group, especially the pale-faced Yuyuer and the slightly frowning Arya. "Next time we find one, I'll catch it for you to try! Way better than those stinky mushrooms in the forest!"
The group imagined the scene of eating raw ice worms, their expressions varying. Zhamisi, however, flicked her snake tongue with interest: "Sounds... fresh!" Tisk shivered, muttering: "I'll stick to rations..."
Small Tribes of the Eternal Frost Tundra
Under Golg's lead, the team trudged northeast, following that faint, elusive scent of cold metal and energy residue. In the vast white world, the concept of time blurred. Only the howling wind, the monotonous crunch of footsteps in snow, and Rex's intermittent reports of temperature and bearings reminded them of time's passage and the environment's cruelty.
After half a day of travel, the wind and snow seemed to ease a bit, visibility improving slightly. Amid the undulating snow hills ahead, several thin, crooked gray smoke pillars rose.
Golg's steps halted abruptly, his massive arm raised in a warning gesture. His deep blue orc pupils fixed on the direction of the smoke pillars, his nose sniffing forcefully again, his face showing a complex mix—wariness, nostalgia, and a subtle softness.
"Tribe." He uttered two words lowly. "Numbers... few. Less than fifty warriors' scents, plus women and children's smells. Very weak tribe." His tone carried the orc's straightforward judgment of strength.
"Bypass them?" Lirian asked softly, her emerald eyes filled with respect for nature and life. On the tundra, weak tribes often meant scarce resources and extreme xenophobia.
Golg was silent for a few seconds, then shook his head: "No need. 'Kind Snow' tribe... I recognize their totem scent. Many years ago, one of their old shamans saved my life in the 'Bone-shattering Blizzard.' They... not strong, but they follow ancestral rules, no raiding kin." He looked at Fa. "Can approach, but don't enter camp. They'll fear."
At Golg's signal, the team stopped behind a tall snow hill several hundred meters from the rising smoke pillars. They concealed themselves, cautiously peeking out.
In a wind-sheltered depression, a dozen crude tents stitched from thick, unknown snow beast hides were scattered. Half-buried in snow, they appeared low and worn. Between tents, low walls of massive ice blocks and beast bones provided meager protection against wind and snow. A few hunched orc elders wrapped in thick hides were tremblingly clearing snow from tent entrances. Several similarly bundled orc women processed a few frozen, grotesque fish beside a steaming ice hole. Further on the snow, a dozen skinny orc children played, their skin an unhealthy grayish-blue, movements sluggish and clumsy, but their laughter precious in this desolate tundra. A few orc warriors with crude bone spears or stone axes patrolled the camp edges; not burly, but their eyes full of steadfast guardianship and wariness toward outsiders.
The entire tribe was enveloped in an atmosphere of poverty, tenacity, yet twilight decline. They clearly noticed Golg's group (especially Golg's distinctive massive build and the menacing chainsaw axes on his back), and the camp fell silent instantly. Warriors gripped weapons tightly, tensely watching the snow hill; women quickly shielded children; elders' murky eyes filled with alertness.
Golg alone disarmed, removing his two fearsome chainsaw axes from his back and his spare throwing axes from his waist, placing them on the snow. Then, empty-handed, he strode out from the hill's cover, facing the tribe warriors' vigilant and tense gazes, approaching the camp edge.
He stopped about twenty paces from the bone wall, pounding his right fist heavily on his left chest over his heart, producing a dull thud. This was an ancient orc gesture of harmlessness and respect. He said nothing, only lowly and clearly uttering a name in orcish—the name of that old shaman from years ago.
At the camp edge, a middle-aged orc warrior who seemed like the leader, with frostbite scars on his face, relaxed his tense body slightly upon hearing the name. He hesitated, then pounded his chest in response, but the wariness in his eyes didn't fully fade. He stared at Golg, glanced at Fa and the others vaguely visible behind the distant snow hill, shook his head, and shouted a few words in orcish, his tone carrying refusal and warning.
Golg nodded, not pressing. He bent down, pulling out several large chunks of air-dried meat strips wrapped in oil paper and heavy blocks of fatty animal lard from his bulging beast hide sack. These were high-calorie supplies carefully prepared by Karim. He placed the food carefully on the clean snow, pounded his chest again, then slowly retreated back behind the snow hill.
The orc leader silently watched the food on the snow, then Golg's retreating direction, finally waving his hand. Two young orc warriors cautiously ran over, quickly picking up the food and hugging it back to camp. Suppressed, incredulous cheers faintly echoed from the tribe.
"What did they say?" Kayla asked lowly, her eyes showing concern for kin.
"They said, 'Storm's getting worse, northern 'Ice Howlers' restless lately, detour around Black Ice Cliff.'" Golg translated calmly. "They thank the food, but... no welcome for outsiders. They're too weak."
The team didn't linger, bypassing this struggling Frostclaw tribe under Golg's lead, continuing northeast toward the guiding cold metal scent. The camp behind soon vanished in the vast snow mist, leaving only stubborn smoke trails and a heavy mood.
As Golg had foretold, the storm intensified before nightfall. Gale-force winds whipped up surface snow into a blinding white dust storm, visibility dropping below ten meters. The bone-chilling cold seemed to freeze souls, even Rex issuing a warning: "Wind speed increasing steadily, visibility under three meters, environmental temperature nearing minus forty-five degrees. Strongly recommend finding shelter to camp; continued travel risk factor too high."
As the group was buffeted by the gale, barely able to advance, anxiously searching for any possible cover, Lin Ya once again became key.
"Please come close to me." Lin Ya's gentle thoughts clearly entered everyone's minds amid the howling storm.
Its emerald body glowed brightly, life energy rippling outward. Its tangled branch arms plunged deep into the snow below, countless mycelia strands flickering with starlight spreading like a vast network, delving into the frozen soil. Then, a miracle occurred!
The snow beneath Lin Ya writhed and rose as if alive! Sturdy roots with fresh wood grain and emerald glow burst from the snow, intertwining and growing upward rapidly! They coiled, fused, emitting soft yet resolute growth sounds. Wooden walls, arched roof, even internal simple partitions and root platforms for sitting or lying... A house entirely of living, warm-glowing, life-breathing wood rose in mere minutes amid the raging storm! Door and window positions formed naturally from flexible vines as curtains, effectively blocking the intruding cold wind.
"Quick, come in!" Lin Ya's thoughts carried a hint of urgency.
The group practically tumbled into this miracle house filled with fresh wood scent and warm aura. The vine curtains at the door fell, instantly isolating the raging storm and biting cold outside. No fire inside, but Lin Ya's own soft glow and life warmth kept the indoor temperature at a level not high, yet sufficient to escape freezing danger. The floor was resilient root underfoot, warm and springy. The air carried a fresh natural scent, contrasting heaven and hell with the destructive chill outside.
"By the spirits of nature..." Lirian touched the smooth, warm wood grain of the inner wall, feeling the boundless yet gentle life force within, her emerald eyes filled with awe and reverence.
"My forge!" Tisk plopped onto a thick root risen into a bench, sighing comfortably. "Tree brother, your craft beats any house I've built! And with built-in heating!"
Even the usually silent Rex evaluated: "Efficient, energy-saving, eco-friendly temporary structure. Internal temperature: minus five degrees, suitable humidity. Survival environment rating: good."
Yuyuer leaned against the warm wood wall, sighing long, the pallor under his disguise finally regaining some color. Arya and Fa exchanged smiles, their tense nerves finally relaxing. Kayla curiously knocked the wall, producing a dull sound: "Sturdy enough! Way better than a snow cave!" Zhamisi comfortably coiled her snake tail, resting in a corner with eyes closed.
That night, amid the Eternal Frost Tundra's raging blizzard, Lin Ya's transformed life wood house became the warmest, safest haven. It stood silently in the vast white purgatory, like a stubbornly beating green heart, radiating the miracle light of life against nature's harshness.
The next morning, the storm miraculously weakened, the sky a cold leaden blue. The group emerged from Lin Ya's warm shelter; Lin Ya retracted its roots, the house dissipating like an illusion, leaving only compacted snow ground. They resumed their journey. With the previous night's rest and Golg's route adjustment based on the Frostclaw tribe's warning, the team's pace quickened.
Rumors of the Ice Palace
Half a day later, leading Golg stopped again. His burly frame like a tundra reef, his deep blue orc pupils locked on a particularly dense snow mist area whipped by wind ahead. His sturdy nose inhaled forcefully in the biting air, brows furrowed, face mixing shock and unprecedented gravity.
"The scent... changed." Golg's voice rumbled low like thunder over frozen ground, pointing into the swirling snow mist depths. "That faint blood scent... rust mixed with scorched machine oil... turned. No longer northeast, but... north, deep into the tundra's most desolate heart!"
He whirled, muscles taut on his grayish-blue face, looking at Fa's group, eyes sharp as knives: "The masked bug you're after—he's mad! The direction he's gone is the edge of the Eternal Frost Tundra, a cursed place no one living here dares approach—'Chill Silence Ice Palace'!"
"Chill Silence Ice Palace?" Lirian's emerald eyes flashed with alarm; as a forest elf, she instinctively sensed natural anomalies in extreme environments. "I feel it... the natural spirits in that area... twisted, frozen, filled with endless resentment and sorrow... like the core of Inkdark Forest, but more... purely and absolutely cold."
"Right!" Golg nodded forcefully, his thick fingers tracing in the air as if outlining terrifying contours from memory. "That's an evil place! Legend says long, long ago—before we orcs set foot on this tundra—a mad mage used unimaginable power and countless frozen souls to build his palace at the tundra's edge. Not made of stone or wood! Pure, eternally unfreezing magic ice! Chill from the abyss, a hundred times colder than the tundra's coldest 'Night of Dead Silence'! Any living thing nears, blood freezes to ice shards first, soul sucked out, frozen in those damn ice walls as eternal wailing decorations!"
He paused, his voice carrying rare orc warrior fear: "My ancestor, young then, bravest scout in the tribe. Once tracking a rare 'Frosthorn Giant Rhino,' strayed into the Ice Palace's outer area... He returned with a small shard knocked from the edge, and a half-blackened, nearly ruined arm from frost. He told us the ground there isn't snow—it's countless frozen beast, monster ice sculptures... even humanoid in ancient armor! They keep their last moment's terror and struggle, eyes wide, embedded in ice, staring at you! And the Ice Palace itself... like a massive tomb, squatting quietly by the abyss, emitting aura that shatters souls. He said something 'not living' dwells there—an evil spirit birthed by the ice itself! Since then, 'Chill Silence Ice Palace' became the tribe's greatest taboo, drawn on hides to warn all kids—absolutely avoid the Eternal Frost Tundra's northeast side!"
Golg's gaze swept the group, especially the pale, slightly shivering Yuyuer in the cold, finally locking on Fa's resolute star eyes: "Now, you still going? That masked bug intruding is suicide, but if we go... I can't guarantee anyone's safety! Danger there worse than a hundred raging 'Ice Howlers' combined!"
Wind howled in ears, Golg's described horrors piercing minds like ice spikes. Air seemed frozen, only hearts pounding heavily in chests and endless wind sounds remaining.
Fa took a deep breath, the bone-chilling air flooding her lungs, yet making the stars in her right eye's depths flow clearer, firmer. She scanned her companions: Arya with concern in eyes, but steady hand gripping Storm Bow, warm support from Star Resonance Stone; Kayla grinning, baring sharp canines, ice-blue arcs leaping on Thunder Claws, battle spirit high; Tisk spat, ice from beard falling, Lava Hammer thudding ground—dwarves never retreat; Rex's electronic eyes steady blue, silently adjusting armor energy output against cold; Zhamisi's dark green vertical pupils contracting, poison fang daggers humming in sheaths, snake tail impatiently slapping snow; Lin Ya's emerald body radiating warm, peaceful life glow, standing quietly; Yuyuer straightening his back effortfully, Dragonbone Staff's crystal orb flowing blue, maintaining disguise stability—fear in eyes, but no retreat; Salsa's mechanical cat pressed to Fa's leg, amber electronic eyes locked northeast.
"We must go." Fa's voice wasn't loud, yet pierced the storm, ringing clearly in every ear. "That high-level from the Doomsday Rebirth organization surely holds vital intel and power, tied to what we seek, and this world's threat. Whether he's dead or alive, we need confirmation. And..." Her star eyes swept Golg. "The Star Shard clues, the Wing Clan's Light Feather Dome—likely beyond Frostblade Snow Mountains. This path can't be bypassed."
"Tch, just a big ice cellar?" Kayla flexed her Thunder Claws, bronze skin muscles bulging. "No matter how evil, can it withstand my thunder claws and ice fists?"
"Dwarf hammers haven't met ice they can't smash!" Tisk added gruffly.
Golg looked at this group of resolute companions, silent a moment, his grayish-blue face squeezing into a nearly feral grin—that orc warrior mix of madness and valor facing doom: "Good! Since you're set on storming this ghost gate, Golg goes with you to the end! Remember my ancestor's words—touch nothing, don't look in those ice sculptures' eyes! Follow me close, step in my prints!"
He said no more, turning, shouldering his massive chainsaw axes again, taking heavy strides like an icebreaker, plunging into the taboo-shadowed storm toward the Eternal Frost Tundra's northeast death zone. The team followed closely, resolute and unyielding into this realm even tundra hunters feared.