Audience with the Ice Tomb King

“Arsuga’s Rune Mark… You actually…” The alpha wolf’s breathing grew erratic.

Massive claws scraped against the ice. Melville retreated half a step, yet roared ferociously, “No! That’s impossible!” Its enraged roar, laced with shattered ice shards, lashed against Daphne like a wind carrying blades. “I sense no power from you. How could you possibly defeat Arsuga’s avatar?”

The frigid air melted away the instant it touched her cloak. An invisible, warm barrier shielded the young woman.

“It seems even as a beast, you’re inadequate.” Daphne still did not turn. “Arsuga’s avatar hasn’t even been unleashed. How could I defeat it then? I came here in obedience to a greater will.”

“Greater… will?” Melville’s low, hoarse voice wavered.

Each time Arsuga slumbered, it lasted for a millennium. He never opened his eyes until the full millennium had passed.

Now, less than a decade remained until the next millennium. At that time, his final avatar would condense once more, and after that, Arsuga himself would descend upon the world.

He had spoken of it as the annihilation foretold by the Great Mother.

It was destiny.

Since all things were beyond salvation, then he would be the one to destroy everything the Great Mother had personally shaped.

This girl, whose origins were unknown, had obtained the Rune Mark of Death even before Arsuga’s avatar could fully condense. She also claimed to obey a ‘greater will.’ ‘Could it be…?’

“Mel.” A solemn, weighty call reverberated.

It echoed across the pristine ice plain like a colossal bell.

Only then did Daphne recall they were underground. The deep, powerful voice reverberated repeatedly between the icy surfaces, threatening to rupture her eardrums.

“Ar!? You… you’ve awakened early!?” Melville was utterly astonished. It recoiled several steps, its sharp, icy bone claws scraping a grating sound across the ice.

“Bring the girl closer.” The solemn, weighty voice spoke again.

“I… understand…” Melville assented with restraint. It lowered its proud skull.

The alpha wolf no longer seemed to resent the master who had bestowed upon it an undead form. This was quite different from what Daphne had expected.

She had assumed Melville merely had to submit to Arsuga. But now, addressing each other by nicknames, their relationship was likely not so poor.

Although the COG development team had completely removed the audience Easter egg, that didn’t mean they hadn’t conceived of it. Before her transmigration, she had seen these scrapped concepts leaked by insiders on forums.

Arsuga’s slumber was a necessity. The grueling battle with the Chaos Demons had drained his spirit and sanity. After this millennium, he would no longer be a guardian. Destruction would be brought forth by his own hand.

This also meant that the prematurely awakened Arsuga possessed only his divine soul. His magnificent divine body remained frozen within the ice tomb.

The reason Daphne dared to bring the Rune Mark ring to meet Arsuga was her clear understanding that Arsuga could not harm her. Moreover, Arsuga was, by design, obligated to grant an audience to anyone bearing a Rune Mark.

As for the ‘greater will,’ the moment the orb was forcibly affixed to her, Daphne had realized that all the gods on the chessboard shared a common origin.

Bearing the same name as the orb’s prefix, ‘Oseriel,’ she was the true ‘Mother Goddess.’

Daphne had initially misunderstood, mistaking Lamia, the Queen of Vampires, for the ‘Mother Goddess.’ Compared to the Mother of All Things, the Mother of Magic was more than just a single magnitude apart.

[Before the dead tread upon the lands of the living, encounter that which makes the impossible possible at the foot of the snowy peaks. The Mother Goddess will bless the devout, and each of them will dream sweetly with a smile.]

Every part of this description had come true, including the final line: ‘and each of them will dream sweetly with a smile.’

The character named Bertram had already been sealed in a coffin, dreaming sweetly. And within every iron coffin beneath the black mist lay an unknown character.

Since all of this was true, Daphne could boldly surmise that Oseriel was also connected to Arsuga.

The King of the Ice Tombs had once been a deity leaning towards order. He had stood firm on the desolate frozen lands, fending off Chaos invasions for tens of thousands of years. Why, then, upon his final awakening, would he unleash a frost blade upon the very lands he once protected?

Solving that question was secondary. Her primary goal was to coax some valuable items from Arsuga. The God of the Dead surely possessed a considerable hoard.

‘To fleece the wool, one must be bold.’

As Daphne was still pondering, she suddenly felt something seize and lift the collar of her cloak. She, too, swayed precariously as she was lifted into the air, moving further and further from the ground.

But this was far too high!

Only then did the half-vampire maiden have the chance to glimpse the alpha wolf’s true form.

It was a pale blue frost-bone beast. Its skin and flesh had long since decayed and vanished.

Its sharp fangs were all hard ice, the smallest tooth easily a man and a half tall.

Translucent ice needles covered its entire body, replacing what was once dense, white fur. Eerie blue spectral flames flickered within its hollow eye sockets.

The sense of awe from seeing it firsthand far surpassed anything experienced through a game screen.

Melville was truly colossal. The legends had not lied. It was indeed as magnificent as a mountain range.

“I can walk on my own,” Daphne retorted stubbornly.

“That would be too slow.” The alpha wolf’s voice resonated directly from the depths of her mind. This was a form of vocalization magic, as it was currently carrying Daphne in its mouth and thus unable to speak aloud.

Its icy claws moved with astonishing speed. Melville covered thousands of meters with just a few strides of its four legs. The smooth ice surface offered no impediment to the alpha wolf’s agile and swift movements.

Before Daphne could even feel dizzy or nauseous, this peculiar journey, carried in its mouth, had already reached its destination.

“Ar, I’ve brought her.” Melville carefully and slowly lowered its head, setting Daphne down.

The voice did not reply.

The prolonged silence caused her heart to pound more violently than any momentary roar.

Melville had only brought Daphne this far. Its colossal body dissolved in the chilling wind, then dispersed into drifting snow crystals, vanishing into the air.

Daphne glanced around, front, back, left, and right. She found nothing particularly unusual, only an ice wall blocking her path.

But precisely at that moment, a terrifying thought suddenly exploded in her mind. ‘If Melville was so enormous, then Arsuga, who could use it as a mount, must be…?’

With that thought, Daphne instinctively lifted her gaze.

In the profound, abyssal darkness, she saw a towering throne of bones beyond the ice wall.

The throne rivaled the peaks of the Dunnau Mountains, reaching altitudes of over a thousand meters. The entity seated upon it was so immense, its summit was almost impossible to discern.

Pale blue motes of light, long drifting, now converged and took shape. They expanded and grew in mid-air, matching the presence behind the ice.

The colossal frost blade, capable of cleaving mountains and earth in two, finally revealed its true, imposing form.

The sky-piercing blade crashed down onto the pristine ice, shattering the ground before Daphne. At that moment, the entire earth’s crust seemed to tremble.

“Ah—” From beyond the abyssal ice, a long sigh echoed. “Bearer of the Rune Mark, for what purpose do you seek audience?”