Matthias’s knuckles turned white as his grip tightened on the sword hilt. The footsteps outside the cave grew closer, accompanied by heavy panting and the sharp crunch of ice. It was as if a herd of giant beasts were grinding their way across the snowy plains.
Matthias signaled his soldiers to douse the torches. In the sudden darkness, the faint blue glow of the cave’s mineral stones stretched the shadows of the 30-odd men into elongated silhouettes across the damp moss.
Heavy, labored breaths echoed from the shadows, then several towering figures emerged. Each was at least twice as broad as an ordinary man. Their bodies were covered in long, grayish-white fur, like yarn spun from polar ice.
They carried spears tipped with jagged ice crystals that gleamed in the faint light from the cave entrance, casting shifting, cold reflections across the stone walls.
The burly yeti in the lead wore a string of ice beads around its neck. Each bead contained a tiny frozen animal bone that tinkled with every movement.
It let out a howl and pounded its chest, sending the string of ice beads around its neck clattering violently.
Behind, the other yetis raised their spears. Their throats rumbled with low, threatening growls that echoed like an angry wind scouring the snowy plain.
Matthias frowned. The clothing and weapons of these yetis radiated a primal ferocity. Clearly, they were no ordinary foes.
Suddenly, the yeti leader pointed at the spiritual stag mural on the cave wall, then at the brocade box at Matthias’ waist.
Afterward, it uttered a string of guttural sounds. Through the thick fur on its face, a pair of amber eyes locked onto the box as if it had just discovered a stolen treasure.
“Protect His Highness!” one soldier shouted. He stepped forward and leveled his spear at the yeti leader’s throat.
With a roar, the yeti leader sidestepped the spear tip. It swung the glacial spear in its hands in a wide arc, and the gust of freezing wind it generated stung the soldier’s cheeks.
Matthias drew his sword. The moment his golden aura clashed with the glacial spear, a sharp, clear shout rang out from outside the cave.
“Hold your weapon!”
All eyes turned toward the entrance. A middle-aged man appeared, dressed in animal skin with an ancient-looking iron sword hanging at his waist. His beard and hair were white, but his face had a healthy glow.
He stood tall and firm like a pine, though he seemed small among the hulking yetis. His presence made the restless yetis lower their weapons, and their amber eyes filled with reverence.
“Who are you?” Matthias asked, sheathing his sword. A faint numbness still tingled in his fingertips from the recent surge of true energy.
The middle-aged man offered a formal salute. His voice was raspy from years of living in the cold, yet his words were distinct and clear.
“I am Leopold Murray. Ten years ago, I attended the martial arts forum at the Oakvale Royal Academy, where I had the honor of seeing Your Highness.”
Matthias was taken aback. He had heard of Leopold, who had once dominated the northern martial world with his “Aeolian Edge Technique” before suddenly disappearing at the peak of his fame. He never expected to find Leopold here on Elysium Isle.
“Mr. Murray, what brings you to this place?
“he asked.
“It’s a long story,” Leopold replied.
He turned to the yeti leader and conversed briefly in the same guttural sound. The yeti’s anger gradually subsided as its curiosity replaced the fury in its amber eyes.
He turned to Matthias and explained, ”
This yeti is called Barto. He’s the chief of the Frostwarden Tribe. When they saw you in possession of the Frostbloom and standing before the mural of the spiritual stag, they assumed you had harmed it.”
Neville’s eyes widened in sudden realization. “No wonder they were roaring at the brocade box. It turns out they mistook the Frostbloom for a token taken from the spiritual stag.”
Leopold nodded with a smile. “The spiritual stag is their tribal guide. For generations, they have followed its trail and believe its movements guide the flow of life on Elysium Isle. Barto said they saw the stag lead you into this cave. That’s why they pursued you.”
“We didn’t harm the spiritual stag. In fact, it saved us,” Matthias explained. Leopold relayed his words to Barto.
Then, Barto’s gaze toward Matthias noticeably changed. He thumped his left fist over his chest and dipped his head in a gesture of respect.
Matthias was momentarily taken aback. He glanced at Leopold, silently questioning him.
With a smile, Leopold explained, “The Frostwarden Tribe reveres the spiritual stag as their spiritual guide. Those whom the stag treats kindly are considered friends, so Barto now regards you as a friend.”
“I see,” Matthias replied, relieved. He returned the gesture with a respectful nod. He could tell these elite tribesmen were far from ordinary. At least, each possessed the skill of a grandmaster.
Their leader, Barto, was even more fearsome, likely an ultimate grandmaster. Just by standing there, he exuded an overwhelming sense of pressure.
Fortunately, it had all been a misunderstanding. If a fight had broken out, Matthias and his men wouldn’t have stood a chance.
Just then, Barto spoke again. Leopold promptly translated what he had just said.
“Your Highness, Chief Barto is inviting you to visit their tribe as a guest.”
“A guest?” Matthias hesitated briefly before finally nodding. “Chief Barto is very generous. I would be honored to accept your invitation.”
After Leopold translated, the yetis burst into cheers. They promptly sheathed their spears and began carefully lifting the wounded soldiers onto makeshift stretchers woven from vines. Barto personally led the way for Matthias.
His large frame stooped slightly to pass through the narrow cave entrance. Pieces of ice shook loose from his heavy fur and gathered in small, glistening piles on the ground.
As they exited the cave, Matthias saw that over 100 yetis had gathered outside, standing in formation in the snow. Their ice-tipped spears angled toward the sky in unison, like a grove of frozen trees. When they saw Barto emerge with the guests, the yetis saluted in unison.
“The tribe’s territory has geothermal hot springs. It was warmer than the ones in the cave,” Leopold said quietly as he walked beside Matthias. “They hold many secrets about Elysium Isle. Perhaps they can help you.”
A thoughtful glint passed through Matthias’s eyes, but he remained silent. It seemed their encounter with the Frostwarden Tribe had turned misfortune into a blessing.
