บท 6: The Long Winter Approaches
The Shadow Tower of Frostgard is located in the far northeastern corner.
Far from the prosperity of the West Coast, close to the cold winters of the North.
Poverty and coldness have become the few descriptions of this place in Haldor's eyes.
If it weren't for the connection to the Silver Woods, where the ranger tribes are, it would almost become a blank on the map.
The glow of the Lord of Fire fell upon the lush mountain forest, dispelling all cold and allowing the handsome young man, leaning against a large tree, to inspect his hair's reflection and the sharp edge of his sharpened axe. Now, the change in his hair due to training and his bond with his dragon is more evident; his hair was slowly ceasing to be black.
Haldor Mondragon—that would be his name, by which he would be recognized from now on.
"This is my name; I will make it worth it." Haldor struggled to get up, and when he did, he looked at his blood-stained clothes. The beautiful black armor beneath his leather cloak was torn. Similarly, on his corresponding back, there was a wetter feeling when he touched it.
Those were the marks left after a group of savages attempted to rob them. With his pale palms holding onto the large tree, Haldor looked up at the sky and shouted, "Azazel, you have food here; don't leave it to the wolves."
Roarrr!!!
At that moment, a dragon the size of three brown bears descended from the sky, flapped its wings, and, in one bite, ate one of the corpses scattered on the ground.
"You've grown again. Now I think going to the ends of the world is unnecessary if your growth rate continues this fast." Haldor was surprised at how much his dragon had grown.
In this medieval world of magic, dragons, and ancient legends, Haldor can accept anything.
Being in someone else's body, he absorbed their memories and was now on his way to the Shadow Tower, where he acted as the lord of that place. On the way there, they were ambushed by the enemy, so Ravyn, along with Baba Voss, were besieging the rest of the enemies who had run away.
Haldor was injured in a much fairer and trick-free fight, but after the fight, his limbs felt weak and his hands trembled.
And not far from his position, a man who had run away froze when he looked at Haldor's dragon, his expression described as an indescribable look of horror.
Azazel's shiny eyes looked at that man and slowly turned around, preparing to attack.
"I won't be served by leaving people alive; you can kill him, Azazel." Haldor said, convinced of his words.
Rrrr!!!
Azazel flapped his wings, and without giving the man a chance to shout, he incinerated him with his deep blue dragon fire.
"I still couldn't defend myself against an attack like that." Muttered Haldor as he watched how the water healed his wounds delicately.
The energy of the water running through Haldor's body served for many more purposes than just healing his wounds. The power residing in his body and continuing to accumulate was ever greater, so no one could make more than some simple cuts on him.
"Prince Haldor!"
"Prince Haldor!"
"Prince Haldor!"
"Baba Voss, I'm here." Haldor only reacted to the loud shouts after having assimilated some thoughts.
When he turned his head towards the bushes and saw the strong man with long hair in a ponytail, bathed in blood, and with his swords still stained with traces of flesh, he came out with eight more warriors while he was being followed by Ravyn, who was still cleaning his swords.
Much further back, an old man walked; this was his butler named Kofun, and he had come from home just to continue serving until his death, as he had sworn to his dead mother.
When he saw that he was still intact, Haldor clearly felt that the old man gave a sigh of relief.
"Prince Haldor, there is no need for you to take your own battles; you still have time to prove you are a good warrior." The old Kofun touched Haldor to be sure he did not have other wounds besides the external ones.
"My father expects results soon; as far as I know, I am his only son from his first wife, so if I do not start now, I will never do it until the succession." Blocking the rough palm extended by the old butler, Haldor paid no attention to the exaggerated movements of this old man. After all, he had basically been caring for him since he was a child.
"By the way, where are the other enemies?" Haldor knew they were more than those who originally came on the trip.
On hearing this, not only Kofun's face filled with rage, but the warriors who were with Haldor were also upset.
"Those prisoners rebelled as soon as we were attacked; apparently it was a good plan to end their lives once again. Maybe this is the last chance for them." Baba Voss, after seeing that there were no enemies, began to clean his sword.
Those prisoners were sent to the shadow tower to serve a sentence or hide. All of them were smart, but now they were dead.
Azazel, who was in the distance, was not a surprise to these people; although they were afraid, they did not show surprise because they had known him before.
All of Haldor's followers to the Shadow Tower were those who had sworn him loyalty and who had nothing to lose and much to gain if he became the next King of the North.
Now that the rumors of having a dragon have begun to spread, his death will not be a small thing for the kingdom.
Because that means that some people have become unscrupulous in politics, and the idea arises that the crown may be losing loyalty.
Furthermore, the reason he is in this cold and remote province is due to politics.
"There is no need to make a scandal about this; I'm still alive, so that's the most important thing. Let's go; we have to reach the territory of the Shadow Tower before noon."
Haldor was still young; he was only fourteen years old, and his limbs were still not adequate to withstand demanding combat for long, so he had to continue on horseback.
Walking through mountains and forests without roads, although he felt exhausted physically and mentally, he still did not dare to fall asleep easily.
He was sorting out the memories and cognitions he had suddenly acquired for over thirteen years.
Those sophisticated magic and chivalrous combat skills made him use them every time he had the opportunity.
This world has gods. A hundred and thirty years ago, many gods marked the beginning of dusk, and a pandimensional war erupted.
The war between the gods against darkness lasted thirty years, and many gods died or fell asleep.
The ancient gods, now the men beyond the north, consider them their own gods, to whom they send their prayers.
Haldor knew the true map of the world; all of them were at the back of a huge wall and lived within any danger that one could imagine. No one ever longs for better lands because the one who governs the seven kingdoms also has dragons.
But now, with Haldor having a young dragon, the future ruler of the heavens, that dream may resurface.
Still, the disasters in this place are much heavier to consider. On the icy continent where Haldor was, which some gods also called the world that should not be stepped on, two-thirds of the land fell into eternal winter.
Since then, the Southerners call the extreme north the extreme north.
The wind and snow cover the entire territory of the extreme north, and the perpetual cold winds and deep glaciers can even form perfect ice that never melts.
The land of the extreme north is no longer suitable for human habitation. All the people of the north who survived the war fled south, trying to pass the huge wall that is protected by the night guards.
Haldor's father decided to send him to this place to protect him and his dragon; not for nothing had he sent another warrior who was a powerful wizard named Lucian.
The Targaryen Empire, which was originally known in the north because of the ancient war between dragons and wizards, over time became the supreme lords of the world because of their dragons that did not perish.
The Shadow Tower where Haldor is currently located was occupied over ten years ago by a foolish wizard, one of the strongest, who tried to create a better place, and what he got in return was his own death.
This territory should be abandoned, but the blessing of the northern god that granted everyone the ability to withstand extreme cold kept them comfortable in places where comfort was the last thing they had.
With the north divided into two, Frostgard was ruled by the descendants of the wizards who fought against the dragons in the past, and beyond are the barbarians who have their heads divided between the mountains, the extreme north, and the huge wall that has always wanted to pass.
Haldor had many things to work on, a territory to improve, and wars to think about if he wanted to do things right once he was King, which was an inevitable path if he wanted to be at peace.
He had a dragon and the opportunity to do things right and make sure that everyone in the north could live a peaceful life outside of all the evil they could face.
He wasn't a hero, but he would make sure that no one went through a stormy one like he did before he died. At least here he could do things right; he could generate a unique change that he could never have had in his past life.
Haldor wanted to improve living conditions in this place; he wanted to make the north a place that was not hell for the people of the south. A home that any man of the north would never think of letting go of.
Once he did things right here, he would think about what to do later about the savages of the north, near the great wall.
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