Solk sat cross-legged on the ice.
He held his shattered Axe, looking quite impressive.
The old dwarf guarding him dared not approach.
Rolshka slowly walked over, squatted in front of him, and remained silent for a while.
Solk spoke first: “Your footsteps have changed. Has it been too long since you’ve had a new body?”
“Come with me.”
The blind Solk raised his head abruptly, his sightless eyes fixed toward Rolshka as his lips twitched a few times before he finally spat out two words: “Boss, are you serious?”
Rolshka said with a hint of softness: “Solk, out of the six of you, you are the only one who never lost control from start to finish. Do you know why?”
Solk did not answer.
Rolshka said: “Because you are blind. You cannot see the blood of the enemy, nor the fearful eyes of your own kin. You fight only by sound and breath. That is why you are the most clear-headed.”
Solk’s Adam’s apple bobbed.
“Don’t worry, I am not trying to scare you; I am simply requiring you to listen to me.”
Solk frowned.
Rolshka stood up with his back to him: “There is a Demon Aristocrat in the outside world who is refining himself into a blade. For this sake, he is exploiting our people!”
“And then?”
Solk asked.
“Then you go kill him.”
“Me?” Solk was calm.
Rolshka pushed the door open, allowing the cold wind to rush in: “Whether you follow or not, that is your choice.”
When he walked out, the sound of the ice cracking came from behind him.
Solk followed along.
Lillian watched all of this and thought, ‘This is going way too smoothly, right?’
Rolshka continued toward the second room, while Solk stood outside the door.
As soon as the door was pushed open, the old female dwarf rushed over and hid behind Rolshka.
“Speak! Speak! Tell me clearly!”
Soraka shrieked sharply, her words slurred: “Who are you! Tell me! Tell me!”
The red-haired dwarf Berserker, Soraka—Solk’s younger sister.
She huddled in the corner of the Ice House, her eyes wide, but her pupils were unfocused, as if she were not looking at him.
Rolshka walked over, squatted in front of her, and looked her in the eye.
“Your brother has already decided to work with me. What do you say?”
What could Soraka say?
She did not want to say anything.
“If you do not come with us, your brother might die in battle.”
Her hands began to tremble.
Rolshka reached out, grasped her shaking hands, and said in a calm tone: “You are a madwoman, so you don’t need to speak. The sound of you wielding your twin axes is louder than any words.”
Soraka’s lips trembled; she felt like going insane.
Rolshka said: “Come with me. For your brother’s safety, wield your twin axes.”
She nodded.
With a wild cry, the twin axes in the old woman’s hands returned to Soraka’s grip.
Rolshka removed the Chain Seal.
Soraka shook with force, and the chains shattered.
Soraka slowly walked to Solk’s side and said: “Brother… you have suffered…”
Solk did not speak, but silently followed Rolshka.
The group arrived at the third prison.
The Ice House was tiny, only large enough for one person to curl up inside.
Green-haired, as thin as a withered branch, he covered his throat with his hands, where there was an old scar.
He saw Rolshka enter, his eyes lit up for a moment, then dimmed; he turned around, keeping his back to him.
Rolshka lay down beside him, also back-to-back.
Two dwarves, lying on the ice, back-to-back.
For a long time, neither moved.
Then, Rolshka began to hum—no lyrics, just a low, intermittent melody.
It was a chant from the dwarf mines; one person leads, the group follows, used to maintain direction in the dark.
After humming a section, he stopped.
From behind him came the very faint sound of fingernails scratching against the ice.
Once, twice, three times.
It was a rhythm, a response, a sign that “Sigma has heard.”
Rolshka stood up and walked out without looking back.
Soon after, the thin, small figure crawled up and followed his footsteps.
Eileen remarked: “Who exactly is this ‘Rolshka’? How are all these Berserkers listening to him?”
Lillian shook her head, indicating she couldn’t understand.
Arriving at the fourth prison, the door was pushed open a crack, and Rolshka stopped.
The Ice House was empty, save for a pink-haired girl huddled in the deepest corner, hugging her knees, face buried between them, shivering uncontrollably.
“Don’t come over.”
Her voice was as thin as a mosquito’s: “She… she is behind you…”
The female dwarf pointed at Eileen, who was beside Lillian.
Eileen looked puzzled.
Rolshka did not look back.
He walked into the room and sat down three steps away from her.
“What is she saying?”
The pink-haired girl, Selim, secretly raised her eyes, glanced quickly behind him, and shrank back: “She is too strong… we are no match for her.”
Rolshka was silent for a while.
“What are you talking about?”
Selim trembled: “Can you really not see that ‘monster’? She must be here to kill us!”
Rolshka’s eyelid twitched.
Selim’s voice was even quieter: “Leave me alone, I don’t want to go with her…”
Rolshka lowered his head and remained still for a long time.
Then he stood up and walked to the door without looking back: “Whether you follow or not, it is fine. But if you come with me, I promise you true freedom.”
He pushed the door and walked out.
A moment later, the sound of light footsteps came from behind.
Arriving at the fifth room, Rolshka pushed the door open.
Empty.
There was nothing in the Ice House—no people, no traces, not even a wisp of Mana residue to be sensed.
But Rolshka stood at the door, motionless for a long time.
Lillian appeared behind him at some point.
“My partner investigated this room; there was indeed a Mana reaction here,” Lillian said, “And it was very strong.”
Rolshka nodded and turned to leave.
He offered no explanation.
He knew without looking that the “nonexistent guy” was currently right behind him.
Everyone gathered in front of the sixth Ice House.
Solk, Soraka, Selim, Sigma, and the invisible person.
They watched as Rolshka pushed that door open.
Inside the room, there was nothing.
But Rolshka stood at the doorway, facing the empty Ice House, and said something in a low voice.
The others could not hear clearly.
Only Lillian, standing at the furthest point, vaguely caught a few words:
“…Rolshka… thank you… now, it is my turn.”
Rolshka turned around to face the five of them.
His gaze had changed completely—it was no longer the look of Rolshka, nor was it the look of that “leader” from a moment ago, but something deeper, more distant, forged by having lived through too much life and death.
“I am your ‘Eternal King’,” he said, “I was killed by Rolshka, then I killed him, took his body, and lived until today.”
The five were silent.
“I occupied this young man’s body because he made a wish to me—to trade his body for his woman. His woman was taken by that Demon Aristocrat.”
He paused.
“So I am here. Not to lead you in revenge, but to lead you to pay your debts.”
He swept his gaze across each person’s face.
“Solk, I need your strength.”
The handle of Solk’s axe emitted a cracking sound.
“Soraka, you follow your brother.”
Soraka clenched her teeth.
“Sigma,” he looked at the thin, green-haired dwarf, “battle.”
Sigma nodded, silent.
“Selim,” he finally looked at the pink-haired girl, “don’t be afraid, we are all our own kind.”
Selim shivered.
The invisible person said nothing.
Rolshka turned and walked into the wind and snow.
Behind him, the five people remained silent for a moment.
Then, footsteps rang out, one after another, as they followed him.
In the distance, Lillian watched this scene and said happily: “Master Atiste, once this mission is complete, I will be able to see you~”
The joy in her heart was plain to see.
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