As Zelta Haidenburg passed out immediately after reaching Neitar's house, the head of the village decided to wait until the next morning to ask what happened and what really had attacked the mage during that day. Still, he could sleep happy for one day. Their efforts had not been worthless, not this time; there was no victim. The real fear of the old man was if the creature really got stronger by meeting Zelta, because that could imply that it'd be even more unbeatable from then on.
Dawn arrived quickly as Neitar woke up, having had his first good night of sleep since the first death that had happened two weeks prior. Now, though, he knew he had to tell every villager about how not even a mage like Zelta, coming from the capital itself, was enough to defeat the creature that had infested these lands. About the details, the old man didn't want to speak to everyone about a beast able to copy any spell thrown at it, nor about the fact it could literally grow more arms if it wanted to. That'd only cause the terror to be augmented to crazy levels.
The first step was to wake up Zelta. As Neitar went in his room, he saw the blue-haired boy, now not in the formal suit he previously more but with casual clothing, sleep in a way that could not be called peaceful. "Wake up." He simply said, to which the mage's trained body answered with what had been asked of it. In no time, the mage was up, but not with the same arrogance he previously had, one could even say he changed overnight.
"I-I'm sorry. I thought I was good enough." Zelta simply said, to which Neitar nodded. "Thank you again. You only delayed my death, though. It's coming for me now." He sadly said as tears came to his eyes. "You know. I never thought I'd die like this. I always believed my death would be in a close fight in which I did my best until the end, yet I couldn't even leave a scar on my opponent." He said, looking pitiful as his world had fallen apart. "It's not your fault. What you're fighting isn't human." The old man said, then added: "Also, I did nothing. The spell missed on its own." Zelta's eyes became wide open and he looked more desperate than he was before Neitar said that.
"That means he didn't want to kill me back then. Secret Fire is a spell that locks to the target, which means it can't miss like that." Zelta explained, to which Neitar nodded. "Maybe he doesn't copy the exact same spell." The old man tried to explain. "But then, it wouldn't even be that spell that you're casting. I'm not sure, I think it did it on purpose. Like it wants me to fear it..." The sorcerer tried to explain, but his words betrayed him as he could not explain completely the terror that his mind was subjected to from the previous day.
"Do you think we have a chance?" Neitar asked. "Honestly, I doubt it. Let's just say around that we were able to fend it off, but they're not going to believe it if I die tomorrow night. Rather, we're in a checkmate position." The mage stood up and walked away from the room after saying that, pointing at the head of the village to follow him. "How so?" Neitar asked, to which Zelta responded: "There's no way we can beat it with the forces that we have now. Maybe with four or five sorcerers of my level, it'd be a doable task. But the time it takes to call those will mean that I die before." The sorcerer explained, his blue eyes now letting go of tears as he could not contain what he was feeling and let his facade die down.
"Let's ask Zey. He might be able to tell us something that we don't know. He reads a lot." Neitar tried to suggest, but not really having high hopes for him. He just believed that giving false hopes could help the attitude of the mage who was almost death-bound by now. "Why do you two not live together?" The blue-haired sorcerer asked, not caring anymore about what could be said and what couldn't because of the time he had left. "Oh, so you know?" The head of the village asked. "Yeah, it's obvious." Was the only answer that Zelta could give. "Well, you might not believe it, but this is the first time in almost ten years that we are close. He never really liked me, he only came to me when he was desperate because I was the only person left he could talk to." Neitar said with a poker face, explaining clearly with his expression that he did not want to speak further, but not letting the mage see the sadness in his heart.
"I see." Zelta said. The rest of the walk towards Zey's house was rather quiet and uneventful. As they came up to his door, the young pale man answered it happily. He looked completely different from the day prior, before he knew that there was a monster coming. That was because of the absence of victims. "Zey, there's something we need to talk about." Neitar simply said, to which the young man nodded. He only realized after that there was also the blue-haired mage in his house, but he looked different than how he was yesterday.
"So, did you find it?" Zey asked hopeful. "Yes, yes, we did. It was not a close fight." The old man simply explained, but the way in which it had been said let the younger boy realize what he meant. "Yet there was no kill?" Zey asked. "Luck, maybe it wanted it. We don't know. It has set its sights onto Zelta for tomorrow night. So we need a plan B." Explained Neitar as Zelta stayed quiet. "And you?! Do you have nothing to say? With how you treated us, you made it clear you'd win, but you can't even beat a bandit?!" Zey said those words in a burst of anger, but the sorcerer knew they were right and didn't reply. He just showed the tears in his eyes which he still hadn't cleared and had fallen until a bit ago, then said: "I'm sorry." At that point everyone sighed.
Until Zey spoke. "You know. There's one last chance we have. But it's almost hopeless. Listen up." He said, waiting for them to prepare their minds for an unbelievable idea. "So, you all know of the myth of the Ice Mage that lies at the top of the mountains in front of our village, right? A myth almost nobody believes in anymore, it's kind of like the story of creepy creatures that would haunt you if you didn't eat your vegetables that everyone has heard of when they were kids." He looked at Neitar with an ironic face. "Then again, if C exists, then maybe those weren't wrong. So there might really be an Ice Mage at the top of those mountains for all we know. Then why haven't we called him yet? That's because the myth also says that the mage, who has reached a state of immortality, hates humans and would never listen to a request of theirs. But, if Zelta goes up there and the monster follows him, at the end the two forces will go one versus the other and, if I may say so myself, I'd consider the creature to be quite doomed afterwards." At the end of the explanation, Zey looked at the two people in front of him, who looked at him in disbelief.
The first to talk was the blue-haired sorcerer himself, who said: "and what if there's no Ice Mage? What if I'm alone with that thing?" He asked desperately, to which the young man could only sadly shrug. "Then you'll have to accept your doom. You don't have much of a choice, do you?" Both of the two could only nod. There was no way there'd be a better plan than this. Of course it didn't have a perfect chance to work, rather, Zey himself believed the success rate of such a suicidal mission would not go above 1%, but it was the only way in which they could maybe save the mage's life.
And so, the rest of the day passed in a way which was completely uneventful. There was no way to reach the mountains before dusk -- that was because the sun would quite usually cause avalanches to happen, which made the climb dangerous even for mages who could easily block them, because they were hard to see. Zelta was meant to go alone mainly because in such an isolated zone it'd be hard for bystanders to run in case the creature, still enraged, attacked them; Neitar had asked to come, but it was the mage himself who reassured him and told him to stay. At the end, the choice the blue-haired sorcerer made was to start his climb one hour before the hour of the attacks. As such, he took the fastest path to get to the top, one that was doomed to eventually reach its end as the mountains were uninhabited at the upmost part.
The first part of the climb was rather easy. While the snow was terrible in falling and causing him, a picky person, to yell curses at the weather, there was something else he feared more while he went up in the paths that a fading track in wood, now almost covered by the snow, was guiding him into. "And this is where the path ends." Zelta thought to himself as he saw the trail suddenly end and realized he just had to keep climbing, using the path that went up in altitude.
"This is disgusting. I've never faced such a terrible weather in Delmasia--" the mage said to himself, but something distracted his thoughts, which he had managed to calm after having to use his focus to find a path that wasn't steep. It was the sound of shoes touching the fresh snow. It wasn't far -- that he knew -- but he couldn't quite pinpoint where it was at. There was just too much snow falling in this part of the mountain and he could barely see ten metres ahead.
Still, he decided to keep going; after all, if he was to stop and fight here, he'd be doomed. The tears that were flowing out of his eyes were mostly out of fear, but were immediately turned into ice by the harsh weather conditions. How cold he felt himself become gave him more determination to keep pushing as the footsteps got closer and closer.
"You won't get me!" He said to himself as he had finally managed to climb in a place where he saw no way up to a part with a higher altitude. Still, he didn't see any Ice Mage, so he thought: "I'll have to climb more than this, I suppose. Or maybe, this is just the top of the mountain and it's all a myth." He couldn't think any further because he heard the footprints get crazily close as he moved away, seeing a cave behind him. "And so, I'm cornered. Even this cave will eventually end, but I don't want to die disrespectfully underground. Let us fight here!" He screamed into the snow that was covering all the sounds he made.
But it heard. And so, he could now faintly see its face get closer and closer to him in the snow. "No tricks now. Magic Blade!" He screamed as his trusty magic weapon of choice was now in his hands. Now, all that had to be done was fight. "It's a pity I die here. But I deserve it... Then we shall fight to our death!" Zelta screamed again, rushing towards the beast who wasn't moving away or flinching.
Until he heard a voice -- or well, until both of them heard a voice. An angelic one, coming from the snow but not covered by its soundproof ability. Rather, a voice that was clear and felt like liberation. He stopped his sword in awe, knowing there was still hope for him, while the creature still wasn't moving at all.
The words pronounced by such an angelic voice were:
"Who said you could make so much noise?"
