Erzili waved her hand dismissively. “That old fool Ghash has always been such a bother darling. Erzili was content to ignore him and his brood, but if Ghash is building a Horde –”
“Leader Erzili, a word.”
The young woman I’d seen fighting down in the Ditch approached, the crowd rushing and stumbling over themselves to give her a wide berth. Those who failed to give the amount of space in time found themselves covered with a sharp biting of frost as the very earth upon which she walked freezing with every step she took. With snow-white hair and pale white skin, a cold visage that redefined the term icy, she was a person who simultaneously gave the air of being Snow White and being the Wicked Witch.
The silk white transparent gown she wore almost seemed made entirely of a thin sheet of ice, and I questioned, for the second time, how exactly one would look at someone with such features and call her a nightmare.
Onna
[Fort Zvyar Lieutenant]
[Blight of the Frostlands]
[The White Death]
Yuki-Onna
Lv. ?
She was cold. Freezing. The further she approached, the more I felt the temperature drop. Frost gathered on my gauntlets, locking them stiff. My cloak became rigid as if injected with a bucket full of starch. Arol, standing before Erzili, muttered some distasteful words underneath her breath as she shot blatantly unsubtle glares at the ice-laden being. Wunder’s face lit up, his expression one I had seen many a time-worn on the faces of self-proclaimed pick-up artists who had found their mark
“Is there a problem Onna-darling?”
Erzili seemed amused by Onna’s presence, amused even more so by the interruption. The White Death as my nightscripts said she was called, turned to me, pupils blue and glowing. For several seconds, she simply stared, as if searching for something. Then, coiling her nose in an expression of distaste, she returned her gaze to Erzili.
“Is it wise to discuss any strategies we shall devise in front of it?” she said coolly.
“It, has a name,” I responded. “And I could care less about whatever you want to do to the Kobolds.”
“Leader Erzili, forgive me, but a mosquito seemed to have buzzed in my ear. Would you mind if I were to remove it?”
“Onna,” Wunder spoke up. “I wouldn’t be so quick to dismiss this skeleton if I were you.”
“It is exactly for that reason that you are not me, Wunder. I know better than to stick my hand into the soil and present a worm to my queen.”
“Don’t call me that.”
The snarl escaped me before I could stop it. Onna’s nose scrunched in distaste. “What? A worm?”
The world started to go hazy. My teeth gnashed against each other with enough force to be audibly heard. Numerous pairs of eyes turned in my direction. My breathing was loud. Unsteady. I could hear Oblivion’s voice, softly, I didn’t turn you into a worm Janus. I could remember the sensation, crawling, on my stomach, across the earth.
“Call me that again, and I will kill you.”
“Janus…” Wunder warned.
Onna got up into my face. With frosty eyes and frosty smile, her lips opened. “Worm.”
I would later tell myself it was intentional. That I was fully aware of what I was doing once I heard the word for the third time. That I meant to snarl like a beast, point my hand into Onna’s direction and fire off a rapid [Diamond Bullet].
The supersonic crack was all it took to send everyone into action. Wunder fired off a quill, intercepting my bullet and bouncing the two projectiles in different directions. Onna’s right hand outstretched and I found myself in a freezing blizzard. My passive skill [Body Temperature Regulation] sprung to life, doing its best to prevent my bones from becoming brittle glass from the obscene cold. My Iron Gauntlets froze over in seconds, too stiff to move and even stiffer to be able to flex my fingers. My body was locked in place, my Iron Brogues being no match for the cold. I was immobilized in a flash, the very armor I created to protect me becoming the very thing that entrapped me in place.
I channeled [Weak Acid Secretion] into my hands in an attempt to melt off the ice restricting my gauntlets, but the effect was too weak. Too slow. Onna’s ice was below freezing, almost as if I were being assaulted by an aerosol spray of liquid nitrogen.
[Warning!]
You have attained the Negative Effect: [Frozen]
You cannot move until [Frozen] is mitigated.
You have attained the Negative Effect: [Brittle]
Your odds of being instantly killed by a sufficient physical force is 100%.
“Enough Onna.”
The reprimand came from a nightmare that dwarfed most others in sheer height. Frozen as I was, it was hard not to miss the appearance of it. The freakish creature was thin, unbelievably so. Pale and slender, a long demonic tail trailed in the air behind it, an expressionless face followed and matched the elongated, noodle-thin arms that were disproportionately longer than its entire body. Its arms dragged on the ground as it moved, each step a slow, agonizing process where its head sloped behind its body as if it were too heavy to move in tandem with it. Stiletto-sharp fingers raked the earth as it advanced, and several other nightmares gave the creature a significantly large berth as it moved.
“He entered the Fort without Leader Erzili’s blessing and did not die. That alone makes him worthy of some respect.” Standing at nearly nine-feet tall, the creature’s head bent forward like a streetlamp. Empty white eyes locked itself on me. A smile appeared on a row of inexplicably sharp teeth.
“…now thaw.”
Two words and the ice melted away. Vanishing and dripping off with inexplicable quickness. I found myself, ignoring the notification that my negative effects had been mitigated, all in lieu of staring up at the name and titles that appeared on this being’s head.
Slim
[The Benign Horror]
[The Last Wendigo]
[Fort Zvyar Lieutenant]
Wendigo Lord
Lv.
