Nedwin Frost

The days began to blur as Nedwin and his team marched further into the mountain range. At first, he had frequently stopped to admire the spectacular-looking sights of ridgelines, frozen lakes, and steep peaks. But even that was starting to become old.

Nedwin wasn’t used to being surrounded by mountains. In fact, he hated the outdoors. He preferred cities. He preferred crowds. They made him feel safe.

None of that mattered anymore. They were lost in the wildlands and there seemed to be no end to the mountain range. It didn’t matter how high they climbed or how far they walked, there would always be another mountain ahead. And that had been the case for the last few days.

“You doing all right, cap?” Tristan asked, sitting next to him by the fire.

Tristan was Nedwin’s right-hand man and the sergeant of their scouting squad. He was also his closest friend. The two of them had been working together for almost ten years, and he acknowledged that without Tristan, he would’ve never had a successful military career. If there was one thing he cherished more than his own life, it was his friend.

“Never better,” Nedwin said, popping another berry into his mouth. This time he made sure to savour the taste. The way things were going, it wouldn’t be long before they started running low on rations.

“You’ve barely spoken all day,” Tristan said.

Nedwin forced a smile. “That’s cause I have nothing good to say.”

The two men fell into a momentary silence, their gazes fixed on the crackling fire.

Clearing his throat, Nedwin mustered the courage to ask what had been on his mind for some time. “How are the men? Are they faring well?”

Nedwin was keenly aware of his recent shortcomings as captain. In the past few days, he’d been so focused on finding a way out of the mountains, he had neglected his men unintentionally.

Tristan smiled. “Although the cold is starting to get to them, their spirits remain high.”

“Really?!” For some reason that sounded like a lie.

“I know you might find this hard to believe, but your men trust you, Captain.” Tristan leaned forward and placed his hand on Nedwin’s shoulder. “After all, you're the one and only, Phantom Slayer.”

Nedwin chuckled and shook his head. He was amused that the ridiculous name still clung to him after all this time.

It all happened a few years back, around the time Nedwin was first promoted to Captain. If he recalled correctly, an alert had been issued due to a high number of scouting units going missing. That was when the rumors started circulating of an ogre that liked to feast on demon flesh. The soldiers started calling it the “Phantom Ogre”.

At first, the rumors had been just that, rumors. But as the investigation grew more thorough, evidence started coming out that there was indeed a perpetrator for these disappearances.

Long story short, after months of pursuing the alleged “phantom ogre,” Nedwin was fortunate enough to locate and defeat it. The ordeal had been arduous, and he barely made it out alive. Since then, the men in Lyonhall began calling him the “Phantom Slayer.”

“You know as well as I do, the stories about me are greatly exaggerated,” Nedwin chuckled.

Tristan shrugged. “Oh, I’m well aware… But I won’t tell anyone if you won’t.”

“What would I do without you,” Nedwin said sarcastically as he looked back at the fire.

“You would be dead... So, have you figured out where we are?” Tristan asked, nodding at the map in Nedwin’s hands.

Nedwin sighed, shaking his head. “I wish I knew, mate…”

As he looked down at the map, all Nedwin could think about was how and when everything had gone wrong.

It had been approximately two weeks since the squad departed Lyonhall. Their assignment had been simple. Considering the increase in attacks lately, Nedwin had been ordered to scout for any signs of movement in the eastern mountain ranges. According to a report he’d read, a large group of ogres had been spotted around the area. Nedwin believed there was a chance that it was the same group of ogres that had seized Crosshome Castle.

The original plan, devised by him and Tristan, involved a ten-mile hike northeast along the mountain path before turning back. It was standard practice not to venture too deep into the mountains to avoid getting lost.

For the first few days, the mission had progressed smoothly. Apart from encountering one or two mana beasts, the journey remained relatively peaceful. With the way things were going, Nedwin had been convinced a promotion to Major was in the books. At least until they were suddenly caught in a snowstorm. That was when everything went to shit. In a frantic panic to find shelter, they deviated from the main mountain path and ended up getting lost.

“We’ve been lucky so far,” Nedwin said, leaning away from the fire.

Tristan frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I’m surprised we still haven’t seen any ogres… We’ve been walking around for days, and nothing. I mean, isn’t that kind of weird?!”

“Don’t jinx it.” Tristan smiled as placed his hands over the fire. “Ogres are the last thing we need.”

“I hear you, brother.”

“I’ll be taking the first watch. Why don’t you get some sleep?” Tristan suggested.

Nedwin nodded. He was exhausted. After being awake for two full days, some rest would do him well.

After he finished eating the berries in his hands, Nedwin walked over to his sleeping bag and slipped into it. It didn’t take long for him to fall asleep.

 

At first, Nedwin didn’t react. Even though he could hear the sound of footsteps and swords being drawn, he thought he was dreaming. At least until he heard someone scream his name.

“Captain Frost! Wake up!”

Nedwin sat up with a start, squinting and rubbing his eyes. “What’s happening?!”

Desmond, the youngest member of his squad, rushed to Nedwin and tossed him his armor. “Sir, please hurry and get dressed.”

Just by looking at Desmond’s eyes, Nedwin could tell something was up. Something bad.

Nedwin quickly slipped into his armor before turning his attention back to the young private. “What the fuck is happening?!”

Before Desmond could reply, Vince appeared beside Nedwin. “We’re surrounded, Sir.”

Vince was the archer of the group and the next in command after Tristan.

Nedwin drew his sword and followed Vince’s gaze. Although the moon was barely visible, and the trees provided cover, he could make out shapes moving through the treeline.

“Ogres?”

Vince nodded.

“How many?” Nedwin asked.

Vince cursed under his breath as he tied his blonde hair into a ponytail. “I’m not sure. I’m still counting… A few dozen, at least.”

A few dozen! How in the world did they find us?

Nedwin clenched his fist and cursed. They were vastly outnumbered. With just the six of them, the situation looked dire.

Nedwin was about to suggest one of them fly to gain a better vantage point when he remembered it wasn’t an option. If there was one thing he hated about the cold, it was that it prevented them from flying. He doubted any of them would last more than a minute in the air before their wings started to freeze.

“Our only shot at winning this is by staying together, and moving as one cohesive unit," Tristan said, joining the three of them at the edge of the hill.

Nedwin glanced back and saw Quinn and Curtis, the last two members of the team, rushing toward him from the mountain path. The two of them had their weapons drawn. Quinn wielded a sword, and Curtis held a lance.

“We counted at least forty ogres coming down the mountain path,” Curtis informed.

FORTY?!

Nedwin looked at Quinn who nodded in confirmation.

“How many ogres do you have on your side?” Quinn inquired, looking at Vince.

All eyes fell on Vince.

Vince’s gaze had been glued to the treeline for the last couple of minutes. “As of right now, I’ve counted more than thirty.”

“Shit…” Tristan cursed.

A tense silence fell over the group as the reality of the situation hit. The reason why they were tallying numbers was to determine the best escape route. Unfortunately, it seemed they’d been outmaneuvered. No matter where they went, their chances of survival were dim. Very dim.

“So, which way are we heading, boss?” Curtis asked, turning to Nedwin. The rest of the team also looked at him expectantly.

Taking a moment to collect his thoughts, Nedwin closed his eyes, drawing in a deep breath.

What should I do? What choice do I make? Will it be the right one...

“We’re moving downhill," Nedwin replied after a moment. He was confident he'd made the right choice.

“With all due respect, I think we should go up, Captain,” Quinn suggested.

Nedwin shook his head. “If we go up the mountain path, where it’s open and exposed, we’re all going to die. But if we head down, at least we’ll have the upper ground and some trees for cover.”

“We won’t have the upper ground for long,” Tristan added.

“You’re right. We won’t.” Nedwin pointed to a spot past the treeline, at least a mile or two down the hill. Even though the sky was dark, he could make out a frozen river that ran along the edge of the mountain before disappearing beneath it.

“If we manage to get past the ogres, make our way through the woods, and reach that river, we can break through the ice and let the current carry us away.”

“We’ll freeze to death!” Desmond exclaimed, his eyes widening in fear.

Curtis let out a sigh. “I think I have to side with Desmond on this.”

Nedwin chuckled. “Either we return to the mountain path to fight. Or we take our chances with the river. Up to you guys?”

Tristan was the first to respond. “If we venture further into the mountains, our deaths are certain... I don’t know what you lads are thinking, but I’d rather take my chances with the river.”

After a few seconds, the rest of the squad nodded in agreement.

“As much I hate to say it, Tristan is right,” Quinn said, patting Curtis and Desmond on the back.

“I… I know…” The young private let out a shaky breath as he stared into the distance.

Noticing the shadows in the treeline were growing larger, Nedwin turned and cast a glance up the mountain path. The situation was no different there either. The ogres were advancing. Within minutes, they would be surrounded from both directions.

“We need to move now,” Nedwin urged, turning back to the squad.

The team nodded in agreement.

“We move as a unit, just like we’ve done in the past. Got it?” Tristan exclaimed

“Yes, Sergeant!” The squad responded.

“Good.”

The men gathered around Nedwin, waiting for his command.

Nedwin picked up his shield and looked down at the tree line. “I won’t lie and say that we’re all going to make it. There’s a good chance we’re all dying here today... Having said that, I expect each one of you to make those bastards regret crossing us. Understood?!”

“Yes, Sir!” the squad replied. This time their response was a bit more lively.

“Good… Everyone on me!”

With determination in their hearts, they surged toward the treeline, rallying around Nedwin and Vince. Tristan and Quinn took point, while Desmond and Curtis secured the rear.

The sprint down the hill was quick. It wasn’t until the squad reached the trees that the real fight began.

“Here they come!” Tristan yelled, raising his sword.

Nedwin felt his heart skip when he saw a metal club fly over Tristan’s head, missing him by an inch. Without wasting time, Tristan rushed forward and struck the ogre’s nose with the flat of his sword. The creature howled in pain, stumbling backward.

“Vince, cover me!” Quinn screamed as the tip of his blade pierced through the head of an ogre.

“Got it.” Vince quickly aimed and drew, his arrow lodging into the eye of the ogre that had been trying to catch Quinn from behind.

Smiling, Quinn kicked the corpse he’d just slain, turned his body, and in one quick motion, cut the ogre’s head off.

“We need to move deeper into the forest!” Curtis warned from the rear. “The ogres coming from the mountains have reached the edge of the hill!’”

Peeking over his shoulder, Nedwin looked up and saw that Curtis was right. He counted at least seven, no, eight ogres rushing down the hill. It wouldn’t be long before that number reached the double digits.

As Nedwin shifted his gaze forward, he realized something was off. To be more precise, something was wrong. During the numerous years he’d spent in the north, he had encountered his fair share of ogres, but never had he witnessed such tactical coordination among them. Ogres were known for their brute strength rather than their intelligence. They were stupid creatures that weren't capable of strategizing. Yet, the scene before him challenged that perception.

What in the world is happening?!

“We need to split up, now!” Nedwin yelled.

Even though they were moving forward, they weren’t moving fast enough. In a matter of seconds, they’d be surrounded and the formation would undoubtedly tumble.

“Have you gone mad?!” Tristan yelled as he stabbed an ogre in the neck. "If we break our formation, we're all dead!"

Nedwin clenched his teeth and nodded toward the hill.

Tristan followed his gaze, his eyes widening in fear. “Shit… You’re right…”

“Everyone, make a break for it!” Nedwin screamed as loud as he could. “Run as fast as you can, and don’t look back until you get to the river.”

“Yes, sir!”

Without hesitation, the formation broke and everyone made a break for the river.

Realizing no matter where he ran, he’d still be attacked, Nedwin focused some mana around his legs and leaped onto a tree. If he moved from above, it’d minimize his chance of getting attacked.

Not wanting to waste time, Nedwin jumped from tree to tree as he rushed toward the river. Nedwin could hear the sound of swords clashing, and the occasional cursing from one of his teammates, but he didn’t relent. He’d given them their orders and prayed they’d make it to the river in one piece.

Nedwin was about fifty yards from the river when an arrow lodged itself into his stomach.

Nedwin gritted his teeth, suppressing a cry of agony as he stumbled forward. The world spun around him, and in that moment of distraction, his foot slipped and he fell to the ground.

“ARRGHH!!!”

When he tried to get up, a stabbing pain spread over his body. It felt as though his nerves were ablaze, every inch of his being protesting the injury. Struggling to push himself up, Nedwin’s gaze fell on the arrow. The fall had driven it deeper into his flesh.

“There you are, little demon!” A deep voice said.

Nedwin looked up and saw a large muscular ogre approach him. His skin was dark blue and his eyes looked like they were made of ice. The ogre’s lips curled into a smile as he came to a halt.

“You seem to be in pain. Did my arrow hit you?”

“Fuck off,” Nedwin blurted, blood coming out of his mouth.

The ogre ignored him. “When they first gave me this toy, I thought it’d be useless…. It seems I was wrong.”

Nedwin felt his blood run cold as the ogre waved what looked like a crossbow in the air. Which was impossible. Ogres weren’t supposed to know how to use or make crossbows.

“Well, let’s not drag out the inevitable,” the ogre chuckled. “I’m feeling pretty hung-”

A large blade burst through his head, stopping his sentence in its tracks. The ogre fell over and hit the ground with a thud.

Nedwin watched in silence as Tristan stepped forward and cleaned the blood off his blade. “We don’t have much time… Can you move?”

Grinding his teeth together, Nedwin pressed his forehead against the ground and lifted himself. “Barely…”

“Good enough.” Tristan rushed to Nedwin’s side and helped carry his weight.

As the pair made it out of the forest, they wasted no time in rushing toward the river.

The moment they stepped on the river, Nedwin realized the ice was thick. Incredibly thick. One of them was going to have to expend quite some energy to break through it.

“Watch the woods while I break the ice,” Tristan's voice broke through the frosty silence, his tone filled with concern as he gently lowered Nedwin to the ground.

Nedwin nodded and closed his eyes as he felt another wave of pain wash over him. Things weren’t looking good. He was losing a lot of blood. Even if Tristan managed to break the ice in time, there was a high chance he wasn’t going to survive.

“You bastards better not be thinking of leaving without me!”

Nedwin’s eyes snapped open and he spotted Curtis rushing out of the forest. His entire body was drenched in thick, dark blood, a testament to the numerous ogres he had slain to get there. Although he was limping, he seemed fine.

“Where are the others?” Tristan’s voice was edged with worry as he swung his sword down against the ice. Nedwin could see signs that the ice was beginning to crack.

Curtis shook his head wearily. “I didn’t see Vince or Quinn. I don’t know where they are.”

“What about Desmond?” Tristan asked. “Did you see him?”

A shadow crossed Curtis’s features, his expression clouding with sorrow. “I… I couldn’t save him… They got to him before I could help…”

Mustering what little strength he had, Nedwin forced himself to sit. “It’s not your fault, Curtis. You did your best… We all did…”

“Curtis, help me break the ice!” Tristan said, his voice tense with urgency. “The ogres won’t be far behind.”

“You got it!” Curtis raised his lance, joining Tristan in the effort to shatter the frozen river.

At first, nothing happened. No matter how hard they were swinging, the ice remained steadfast.

Just as Nedwin started to feel a sense of panic settling in his chest, he heard the ice crack and groan.

“We did it!” Curtis exclaimed, wiping the sweat off his forehead. “For a second, I thought we were screwed.”

Tristan was about to say something when the air filled with war cries. Turning to the forest, Nedwin felt his heart lurch as a horde of ogres rushed straight for them.

“We need to go, now!” Tristan screamed.

Just as they started to move, a sharp twang filled the air, and Curtis cried out in pain.

"ARGH!"

Looking back, Nedwin saw that an arrow had struck him in the chest. Curtis staggered back, a look of disbelief crossing his face. For a moment, the world seemed to stop as his friend glanced at him one last time before crumpling to the ground.

Nedwin tried to rush to Curtis, panic seizing him. “Curtis, GET UP!”

Tristan knelt beside Curtis, immediately checking for a pulse. The harsh reality settled in as Tristan shook his head, confirming that Curtis was dead.

“He’s gone,” Tristan said, his voice heavy with sorrow.

Nedwin felt a lump in his throat, his eyes stinging with unshed tears. The chaotic scene around him seemed to blur as the weight of loss bore down on him.

“You can’t stay here. You have to go,” Tristan urged, his voice snapping Nedwin back to the present.

Helping him up, Tristan guided Nedwin to the hole in the river.

“This is it, Nedwin. If by any chance you survive, make sure you warn everyone about what we saw today.”

“Why are you talking like you won’t be there to tell them too?”

Tristan managed a sad smile. “Someone needs to stay back, mate… Someone needs to make sure you aren’t followed.”

“What?!”

“Tell my family I love them.”

Nedwin was on the verge of protesting when Tristan cut him off, shoving him into the icy waters.

The cold embrace of the river swallowed Nedwin as he was carried away, his vision blurred with despair. The last thing he saw was Tristan raising his sword as he charged at the ogres with unwavering resolve.