Chapter 793: Act 144 – Freya’s Hidden Task?
Freya woke up groggily from the cold, but what greeted her was not a glacial canyon layered like ice knives, nor was there the chilling whisper of the canyon winds around her. She remembered that she had fainted on the windward side of the glacier, yet now she found herself in a quiet, sheltered spot in the mountains. Uncertain of how long she had been unconscious, the cold seemed to seep into her bones. Gritting her teeth, she finally managed to push herself up from the snow.
Then Freya suddenly noticed something she had never seen before.
Not far from her swaying vision stood a small figure, resembling a diminutive snowman. However, its slender arms were not made of the usual dry branches, but rather composed of ice crystals; the little creature had its hands crossed at its waist, bending slightly as it peered at Freya, reminiscent of a butler in a lord’s castle, though much shorter. Its face was festooned with ice crystal-like whiskers and eyebrows, and under those brows sparkled a pair of bright eyes.
Freya was startled; she had never seen such a thing before. Waking up quickly, she sprang up from the snow like a spring. But her sudden movement frightened the little creature, which stumbled backward, tripped over a root, and sat down in the snow. After a moment, it got back up, and the two of them exchanged wide-eyed stares.
An awkward silence enveloped the snowy scene.
After some time, Freya finally sensed that the creature did not seem hostile. Considering her words, she tentatively asked, “Did you bring me here?”
The snowman stood still for a moment, hurriedly brushed off the snow on its body, and bowed respectfully to Freya. “N-No, it wasn’t me. It was the master who brought you here, esteemed little master.” It even spoke Cruzian, but the tone was slightly odd, like a duck’s quack, making it rather amusing.
Freya’s mouth fell open, forming an ‘O’ shape, taken aback by its address. “Wait, what did you call me? Who is your master?”
“The master is the master, esteemed little master,” the snowman replied with a tone as if the answer was obvious.
“Wait, I’m not a little master! You must have mistaken me for someone else!”
“The master said you are the most esteemed guest here, and he instructed us to treat you with the etiquette for the little master. He said so, and he must be right.”
Freya felt her mind was racing. She wished Brendel were here; he would surely understand what was happening quickly. However, this girl from Buche was not foolish. She checked her gear: the Lionheart Sword was still securely in its sheath; then she reached for her waist pouch: the slate Brendel had given her was undamaged, and even the ruby ring was still on her finger. She sighed with relief, indicating that at least the other party was not hostile.
After calming down a bit, she asked the snowman, “May I ask how to address you?”
The snowman placed a twig-like hand on its chest and imitated human etiquette, saying, “We are the Torifin fairies who have lived here for generations, esteemed little master. We do not have names; you may call us ‘Hey’ or ‘Come here’. After all, each of us looks pretty much the same in your eyes, though there are still some differences. If you carefully count our whiskers and eyebrows, you’ll notice some have more or less, and their shapes vary.”
Before the Torifin fairy could finish its introduction, Freya couldn’t help but laugh. The little creature earnestly imitated human nobility’s gestures, but its words were utterly nonsensical, which was quite amusing. Holding back her laughter, she asked, “Where is your master?”
“The master is in the house.”
“A house? Can I meet him?”
“The master said that if the little master wakes up, he would take you to meet him.”
“Take me to meet him?” Freya was a bit skeptical. “Is now a good time?”
The Torifin fairy nodded.
Freya got up from the snow, brushed off her clothes, and then realized her injuries had healed. She recalled that she was seriously wounded before fainting and had killed that silver monster with her last strike. She couldn’t recall what had exactly happened, just a vague memory of the slate falling out of her bag, sparkling in the snow, and herself feeling as though she were in a furnace of pain before everything went black. However, that slab was still safe in her pouch, and she squeezed it; it felt as cold as before, with no change.
Freya didn’t know if the healing of her injuries was related to what had happened then or if it was connected to those little fairies and their mysterious master. She noticed that the snowman had already climbed on all fours to the mouth of the hill ahead. It stood beneath a cluster of white thorns and waved at her. Freya hurried to follow.
Freya discovered she was in a secluded valley. Following the Torifin fairy, they passed through a dense forest made of those white thorny bushes she had seen earlier. This type of plant seemed scattered throughout the valley, with the white thorns growing tall like the trees outside, but their tops curved down, hanging with glowing fruits, illuminating the winding paths of the woodland like streetlights.
Many animals inhabited the white woods. At least Freya saw a grayish-white squirrel searching for seeds beneath the thorn bushes, occasionally scurrying across the path in groups or watching her with its large, dark eyes, wary of this intruder. Perched on the thorns overhead were many birds resembling sparrows, except they had silver feathers and long tails. They showed no signs of fear, allowing Freya and the little fairy to pass underneath, instead tilting their heads to scrutinize this uninvited guest.
After walking for a while, the white thorns suddenly parted left and right. Freya’s eyes lit up, and surprised expressions crossed her face as the brambles revealed a mountain spring surrounded by a forest. The spring cascaded from the rock wall into a pool, steam rising from it, clearly a hot spring formed by geothermal activity. However, what caught her attention was the lush green vegetation covering the ground next to the hot spring, and lying atop that meadow was a deep blue stag.
The stag clearly noticed her, and Freya wasn’t sure if it was her imagination, but she felt it showed her a friendly demeanor.
This made her recognize it right away, as it was the stag that had led all of them out of their predicament the previous night.
Some understanding dawned upon her, but at that moment, the guiding Torifin fairy halted. It turned back to look at Freya. The surprised girl then glanced ahead, noticing that the white thorn bushes had ended. In front of them was an open space before a mountain wall, where an artificial structure was carved into the mountain, forming a large archway about three to four people’s height. Freya looked at that archway, then at the stopped Torifin fairy, asking, “Should I go in?”
The snowman nodded.
Freya took a deep breath and stepped forward into the cave. The surrounding light dimmed as she adapted to the dark environment, gradually seeing the cave’s interior. Behind the archway was a natural cavern, as if the artificial marks from outside were merely for decorating the entrance. Like most glacial caves, the cave’s walls were made of smooth ice, but it wasn’t very deep, extending about twenty to thirty feet before abruptly stopping at a vertical ice wall.
Freya blinked in surprise. Where was the master whom the little fairy spoke of? The cave was clearly empty.
Just as she was puzzled, the ice wall in front of her suddenly melted away, forming a small door, and a voice said, “Please come in, Miss Freya.”
“You know me?” Freya was taken aback as she asked.
But the voice didn’t answer. Freya felt tense yet curious, her thoughts racing with worry for Brendel, Nemeses, and the young prince’s safety, but she still couldn’t pinpoint where she was. She waited for a moment, seeing the voice did not intend to continue speaking, she had no choice but to hunch down and pass through the small door in the ice wall. The thick ice wall was about ten feet thick. After passing through the little door, she suddenly felt a bright light and a rise in temperature, the previous cold of the valley replaced by a warm atmosphere. Surprised, Freya lifted her head, realizing that behind the ice wall was a beautifully comfortable room, akin to the studies of nobles she had seen in Ampere Seale, with a table, tall-backed chairs, bookshelves, and a fireplace. The floor was covered with a thick carpet, and a bright flame burned in the fireplace. The shelves were filled with books, and the table bore silver candlesticks and plates, soft candlelight illuminating an array of steaming food on the plates, as if freshly brought out from an oven.
The room was empty, yet a chair was pulled out for Freya, and plates and utensils were laid before her as if inviting her to sit. “Please sit,” that voice once again chimed.
Freya knew that if she didn’t comply, the voice likely wouldn’t acknowledge her. She hesitated for a moment before sitting down. Instantly, a white porcelain teacup flew from the side onto her table, and a silver teapot tilted slightly as if lifted by an invisible hand, pouring tea for her.
The tea was a beautiful red, resembling agate in the cup.
Freya felt a bit awkward; she placed her hands on her knees, suddenly recalling what she’d learned in etiquette classes, and instinctively muttered, “Thank you.”
The voice seemed to notice the unease of the girl from Buche and couldn’t help but chuckle.
“No need to be nervous,” it said, “No need to be nervous; it has been a long time since we have entertained guests here.”
Freya took a gentle breath. She wasn’t sure what the phrase “a long time since we have entertained guests” meant. Did it imply that guests had once been hosted here or something else? She asked, filled with confusion, “Hello, may I ask if you are the master of this place? Did you save me?”
“We can discuss that later. For now, please try the tea I brewed,” the voice replied gently.
Drinking unknown things in a completely foreign place wasn’t wise, but Freya felt the other party had no need to go through all this trouble. After a moment’s hesitation, she patiently picked up the white porcelain teacup and took a small sip. The black tea was quite delicious, with a strong taste of milk. After swallowing, it swept away her fatigue, the soreness from sleeping in the snow instantly vanishing; however, she was not in the mood to drink tea. After only a sip, she placed the cup down, her hands heavy with thoughts.
“How is it?” the voice asked.
“Um, it’s very good, thank you for your hospitality,” Freya replied carefully.
“It seems you’re quite worried.”
Freya wasn’t naive; she could now confirm that the voice belonged to the master of this place.
“Because I don’t know where I am; I’m confused.”
“This is just a ‘place’; it has no essential differences compared to other ‘places.’ If you contemplate this question seriously, you’ll find it doesn’t matter to you, right?” the voice replied.
Freya thought this reasoning was strange, but she couldn’t say it was wrong. What she truly cared about was not where she was, but how far she was from Brendel and Nemeses. She honestly nodded, “Yes, I’m worried about my companions; I got separated from them. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to trouble you, but could you help me leave here?”
She paused, “…or, or you could have the fairies assist too.”
“No need to rush,” the voice said, “Miss Freya, no need to rush. I brought each of you here because I need your help with a task.”
“You led us here?” Freya recalled the stag she had seen outside and suddenly believed a bit more: “But who exactly are you? How can we assist you?”
“My strength is already quite diminished, so bringing you here was not difficult; I know your purpose for coming here, so it was merely a matter of pointing out the direction.” The voice chuckled. “To be brief, I don’t have much time left. Let me introduce myself: my name is Milondal, or as the Cruz people would say—Milos.”
Clang! The teacup in Freya’s hand dropped onto the tray, and even the tea splashed onto the tablecloth, but she was oblivious to it. Before coming here, she had never even heard that name. Yet soon, this name was etched into her memory as deeply as the glaciers and frost in this forest, echoing Brendel’s words repeatedly in her mind, leaving her dumbfounded.
“You, you, you…”
“You haven’t guessed wrong. I am indeed the first frost giant in this world, revered as ‘Father,’ and referred to as a deity by you humans. I accept all these titles because I hold such qualifications.”
“But…” Freya wanted to say that since the stars fell, the deities had long left this world. Legends said they departed with the Duskgazer Dragon and would not return. While people built many shrines in Vaunte to commemorate that time when gods coexisted with humans, everyone understood that the age of mortals had already dawned. But this “but” simply wouldn’t come out; she was utterly stunned by this sudden revelation.
“Do you feel confused?” the voice seemed to see through her thoughts.
Freya managed to calm herself and nodded.
“There’s no need to be so surprised; Milos has long fallen; I am merely a phantom left over from a great will.”
“A phantom?”
“People’s thoughts will linger on the questions they most wished to unravel in life. Occasionally, this fixation can transform into a ghostly existence. However, if your existence is too strong, such contemplations can become almost tangible, just like me,” the voice answered gently.
“Are you saying something troubles you? But aren’t deities supposed to be omniscient and omnipotent?”
“Perhaps only Lady Martha can achieve omniscience and omnipotence; we simply think more than you do. However, my fixation is unrelated to you; it’s merely a worry of a commoner. But today, I need you to assist me with a task, Freya. This matter not only concerns you and your companions but also the young master of Valhalla. I know him, don’t I?”
“Brendel?” Freya was almost about to stand up in shock.
The voice didn’t reply, but Freya had a strange feeling, sensing the other party silently nodding.
“What do you need me to do?” Freya cautiously asked, though she felt there must have been some mistake. What problem could possibly trouble even a deity?
The room fell silent for a moment.
“I want you to stop my resurrection.”
After a long silence, the voice slowly spoke.
“What!” Freya jumped up from her chair as if she had been electrocuted, her face full of disbelief, “What did you say?!”
“Stop my resurrection, Freya.”
“The great will is gradually awakening from the darkness. You do not understand what will happen, but for all of Vaunte, this is an unpredictable fate. The age of deities has ended; this has nothing to do with the fixation. I do not know the answer to that question, but the Knight of Azure has already provided you with an answer—a response that cannot be rewritten, Freya.”
