||| THE PATH OF THE BLIZZARD: ADAM |||

[Somewhere in the Tundra, the Krio Zone]

Adam trembled as a gust of wintry air blew against his face, making it difficult for him to keep his head straight. Although he was resistant to the frigid weather – thanks to his heritage – the relentless wind still vexed him - especially during a hunt. Frustrated, Adam shoved the spear into the snow-covered earth to wipe his frosty goggles.

‘How long has he been out here – in the vast, empty white field?’ The man wondered to himself. He could not see the sun, let alone the clear blue sky, and yet, strangely enough, the monotonous voice of The Fenrir sprung into his mind. Even though it was not the first time Adam had heard the sole inmate of the Prison of the Four Winds express his discontentment, something about his latest threat did not sit well with him – especially with the reemergence of the Cold Spots.

“He must be the one behind it. He has to be,” Adam murmured.

The man gazed heavenward; brows knitted. With the unnatural yet, familiar squall around him, he felt a warm, fuzzy feeling growing inside his chest. ‘Damn it, what is it now?’ Adam muttered under his breath. The man quickly took a deep breath to calm himself; his right hand slipped into his jacket until he felt something hard pressed between his fingertips. Adam pulled his arm out, along with a snowflake-shaped pendant on a silver chain.

“What the…?” Adam spouted as soon as he saw a faint, bluish light radiating from the gem. The man grimaced for this was the first time he had seen the Will-o’-the-wisp glowed. He only heard stories about how the light of the tiny gem signified the change in one’s destiny – the unraveling of one’s path toward the future.

“Could this be…no, that’s impossible,” Adam stated as his mind wandered off to The Prison of the Four Winds. “That place is a fortress – the first Alpine King made sure of it.”

GRRRR!

As soon as he heard the growling, Adam yanked the spear out and spun around - only to be greeted by the sight of multiple hunched silhouettes skulking in the blizzard. "Finally decided to make an appearance. What took you guys so long?" the man casually remarked.

The storm eventually subsided, revealing five bipedal creatures standing in proximity to each other. Their bodies were as white as snow with razor-sharp icicles growing out of their brawny torsos - each of their heads resembled that of a boar, minus the eyes. Furthermore, the Distorted's hands were similar to a bear's, with the addition of exceedingly long talons capable of ripping through the thick snow and also, human bones.

"Five Terrouges banding together - either they're getting smarter, or...," the man in the parka did not even dare to utter the other possibility aloud as if it was proven true, a great calamity would befall the entire northern continent once again. Grasping the spear with both hands, Adam looked straight at his idle enemies; their blood-caked snouts twitched at the same time as if reacting to the man's movement.

Shortly afterward, four of the beasts instantly clawed their way into the snow, leaving one behind to confront the Faceless. Adam squinted his eyes suspiciously - wondering what the Distorted were scheming.

"Why do you look so anxious, boy?" said the Terrouge out of the blue.

"That voice...no…Fenrir? But, how?" Adam muttered in disbelief.

A creepy sneer appeared across the creature's face, revealing rows of yellowish-jagged teeth. "Being imprisoned for a thousand years gave me plenty of time to...try out new things. A blessing in disguise - as you humans often say," The Fenrir replied.

“Even if that’s the case, the first Alpine King took everything into consideration when he constructed the prison, including telepathy.”

“The King is long gone, child. Even with the kind of power he had, it is not eternal. You should know this – for every Kingdom on this earth was once thought to be everlasting, but that is far from the truth. Three of them met their ends – even now, the last of the four is slowly rotting from the inside, impatiently waiting for its demise.”

“People learn from mistakes-.”

“But people are also forgetful,” the Terrouge interjected. “You’ve ingratiated yourself with them all these years and somehow, you’ve learned nothing. You and I – we are far superior to those frail, whiny Reprieved. They need us more than we need them.”

"Then, it’s safe to assume the Cold Spots were your doings. Figures," huffed Adam before pointing the tip of his spear toward the monster. “What is your end game here, aside from demonstrating your superiority to the people of the valley?”

“My end game has never changed, child. It is always to seek revenge on the one who imprisoned me.”

BOOM!

Adam shuddered as the ground in front of him exploded, releasing a large white cloud everywhere - obscuring the man's field of vision. Then, he saw a dark shadow in the corner of his eyes, prompting him to swing his weapon around. A loud thud was soon heard, followed by the raucous cry of the Terrogue. Adam swiftly tugged the spear, creating a trail of sticky black fluid that sizzled as it touched the snowy ground.

"Well done. You've certainly improved your skill with the Core Blade. What was its name again? Rue?" The Fenrir taunted, much to Adam's annoyance.

"How about you stop with the folderol and show yourself?" the Faceless demanded.

A brief moment later, another Terrouge leaped out from the thick fog with both of its claws extended. Adam reacted by raising his spear in a horizontal position and successfully blocking the pair of talons from reaching his neck. Instead of retreating, the Distorted opened its jaw and spat out a blast of ice shards that tore the Faceless' hood into pieces.

"Seriously? You did NOT just use an ice attack on me," said Adam; his ivory fringe hair exposed. Taking a deep breath, the man shoved the Terrouge away and drove his spear into its sturdy abdomen. The Distorted twitched as rime ice started to form around the stabbing site which then spread rapidly all over its body. Adam tugged his weapon out of the beast who slowly disintegrated into fine, white specks of dust. "This is getting old, Fenrir," the man commented as he snatched his frozen goggle off before crushing them with his bare hand. With his patience running thin, Adam spun the spear in his hand to generate a strong wind that blew away the mist - only to discover he was surrounded by dozens of ravenous Terrouges.

"This is the end of the line, boy," the monsters spoke in unison; their voices echoed throughout the plain.

"For you, perhaps. I don't suppose you still remember the Verglas Tree, do you?" Adam retorted; his spear began to emit a navy-blue glow.

All the Distorted bared their fangs, growling nervously at the mere mention of the words.

"How peculiar. I never thought I'll see the day when the Fanged Avalanche would feel fear - the same human emotion that he constantly ridicules on a daily basis," the man in the parka added, which caused all the Terrouges to charge toward him.

Adam quickly held his spear in a vertical position and plunged its butt firmly into the snow. The Distorted stopped dead in their tracks as soon as they saw ice branches sprout and proliferated rampantly from the spear's metallic shaft.

One by one, the offshoots skewered the Terrouges; their bulky bodies lifted high into the air with their blood raining down from each of the crystalline branches - turning the desolate white landscape black.

"Urgh!" Adam groaned as he fell to his knees, sweating and panting. The Verglas Tree - he had underestimated the consequences of using the devastating technique. The man darted his head around to make sure there were no escapees - as he was now a sitting duck - vulnerable and weak.

"Impressive. I expected nothing less from the descendant of the Alpine Queen," coughed one of the Terrogues hanging on the ice tree before letting out a peal of short, croaky laughter.

"Man, you really don't know when to shut up, do you?" said Adam, glaring at the dying creature. With the support of the spear, the man got up to his feet, but he suddenly felt shivers running down his spine. "Fenrir," the Faceless blurted; his electric blue eyes widened as soon as he saw a small, childish figure in a white cloak approaching him.

A pre-adolescence boy with skin as pale as a corpse and snowflake-like texture - his garnet eyes shone brilliantly under the evening sky. Adam frowned as the youth bore an uncanny resemblance to him when he was younger, except for a few garnet streaks on his milky hair.

"Don't look too surprised, Salvia. We both knew this day would eventually come sooner or later," said the boy with a blank expression.

 “H-How?” Adam stammered. “How are you here? I’ve inspected the entire Prison – there was no sign of a breach.”

“Have you already forgotten what I said?” The Fenrir let out a sinister chuckle. “You might not have realized it, but the Alpine King’s power has been weakening every year. All I had to do was bid my time.”

Adam’s head tilted slightly to the left as he began pondering quietly on The Fenrir’s statement. “No, you’re lying,” the man retorted, causing the pale boy’s eyes to narrow. “The Prison of the Four Winds is never dependent on the power of the Alpine King. It relies on another power source – it always does.”

“Oh? And how do you know about this… another power source?”

“Every Sentinels know about it – including me. You of all people should know better than to lie to a Sentinel. So, who was it? Who broke you out? Was it someone from the Wintry Valley?”

The Fenrir grinned from ear to ear, exposing rows of pearly white teeth. “Do not worry. If it makes you feel better, none of your people betrayed you.”

“Then, who was it that set you free? Tell me!” Adam demanded.

“An enemy of my enemy. Like me, they saw you and your Order as a nuisance – a blemish that should be wiped out a long time ago – just like the previous Alpine Queen.”

Adam could feel his jaws tighten up shortly after; he swiftly fixed his grip on his spear as both of his hands started to tremble – but, not from the cold. Furthermore, he could feel the weight of his body pulling him down with each passing second.

“You looked tired, child,” the Fenrir remarked smugly. “I assume the Verglas Tree must have consumed most of your stamina. I can’t really blame you – it has always been a tricky technique to master.”

“Oh, would you just shut up? If you’re going to kill me, then do it,” Adam snapped at the boy.

"Well, someone’s eager about dying," the boy countered before walking up to the exhausted man until their faces were an inch apart. "You know, I had considered letting you live at first just so you could witness the destruction of your people. However, after much deliberation - finishing you off right now will prevent and eliminate any future inconveniences, which in my opinion, is a far better solution," The Fenrir further explained before thrusting his right hand into the Faceless' chest.

The man immediately shuddered. An icy cold sensation filled his lungs and intensified with each breath he took. With the remaining strength he had, Adam clenched his spear, causing the Verglas Tree to shatter into pieces. The Fenrir shuffled backward as the Terrouge's corpses fell between him and the Faceless, providing Adam enough time and room to escape.

"Don't think you're getting away from me!" the entire plain quavered from Fenrir's thunderous roar. A few seconds later, the snow on the ground drifted toward the boy, swirling around and steadily growing in size until it towered over the tundra.

"Shit," was the only word Adam managed to utter before the colossal pile of snow crashed down on him.

||| THE END OF THE PATH OF THE BLIZZARD |||