"We should first concern ourselves with the impending crisis that the kingdom is facing. Fretting over such trivial matters will only make you appear petty, Knight of the Blue Heart," the elder remarked, his tone carrying an air of admonition.


    "Come now, since when do matters of state concern the likes of us? Those monsters that emerge from the ice fissures every hundred years have never really caused a significant upheaval, have they?" The knight retrieved a bottle of wine, seated himself, and after speaking, lifted his visor to take a sip.


    "This time is different. Have you not noticed that the appearance of these monsters differs from those in previous instances? They seem to have evolved," the elder said, a tinge of worry evident in his voice.


    "So what if they have? Even if they''ve evolved, they are no match for the kingdom''s cavalry. I believe this journey of ours is superfluous. There is no need to ally with the Zeen Kingdom; our Kingdom of Frost can handle this on its own." The knight then took another large gulp of wine and let out a contented belch.


    Observing the knight''s nonchalant demeanor, the elder could only sigh in resignation.


    As a special mage capable of communicating with the spiritual realm, he harbored an intimation that this incident might prove more momentous than anticipated.


    He recalled that during one of his regular sojourns in the spiritual realm, he had espied an extraordinarily unusual gray passage.


    He had no inkling as to when this passage had come into existence, yet it was only after witnessing its disappearance that the monsters beneath the ice fissures had made their appearance.


    This seemed to be more than a mere coincidence.


    Upon conducting further investigations, he unearthed numerous aspects worthy of deeper contemplation.


    For instance, in all the remote villages and townships of the Kingdom of Frost, all the ancient statues that had withstood the test of time shattered simultaneously.


    Although the Kingdom of Frost was rigorously suppressing religious institutions, eradicating all but the worship of the Frost Queen, those statues had not been earmarked for destruction, given the acknowledged existence of the deities.


    In addition to this, he learned that on the very day he witnessed the disappearance of the gray passage, the Zeen Kingdom was simultaneously besieged by abnormally severe weather across its entire territory.


    All these signs strongly suggested that something momentous and hitherto unknown had transpired on that day.


    ...


    In Bayek, Glen, oblivious to the profound changes he had wrought, was at home, conducting the initial commissioning of his magic - energy generator.


    He was utterly enamored with the sensation of creating and inventing.


    He positioned the peculiarly - shaped magic - energy generator in a corner at the rear of the house and proceeded to test the voltage with his bare hand.


    He employed a modicum of incantation techniques for controlling the electrical element, and given his inherently high resistance to magic, he harbored no fear of injuring himself.


    After a thorough inspection, having ascertained that it was as flawless as it had been in the underground laboratory, Glen heaved a sigh of relief and prepared to fabricate electrical wires for installation within his abode.


    Suddenly, a vision materialized in his mind: himself seated within this dwelling, steeped in an eerie atmosphere, gazing at an antiquated black - and - white television.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    That might very well prove to be a most delightful experience.


    If only there were a television, and I could invite a few friends over, indulging in popcorn as we watched. That would be sheer bliss. It would be even more wonderful if we could enjoy Charlie Chaplin''s comedies... Merely envisioning such a scenario made Glen feel that this was the epitome of comfort.


    At that moment, the old man''s shout from outside the window disrupted Glen''s reverie:


    "Young lad! I''ve discerned what this item is!"


    Glen, who had been on his way to the basement, altered his course and made his way to the front door, which he then opened.


    He beheld the old man approaching at a trot, clutching a scroll.


    He knew precisely what the old man was referring to. Glen had previously taken the time to consult the old man regarding the red crystal that Bloodaxe had bestowed upon him. The latter had scrutinized it for an extended period but had been unable to determine its provenance.


    Ultimately, he had merely stated that he intended to conduct some research, and thus it had remained until now.


    "I''ve ascertained what that red crystal is! It is an energy crystal formed under the most improbable circumstances when a magical beast consumes its own kind and excess energy crystallizes. It is truly a rare and remarkable item. I''ve expended no small amount of effort in uncovering this!"


    The old man was visibly exhilarated and unfurled a vast, ancient scroll for Glen to peruse. The scroll was densely inscribed with minute characters.


    Glen cast a cursory glance and then averted his gaze, inquiring directly, "What utility does this item possess?"


    "Well, it may not have any practical applications, yet it holds great value as a collectible," the old man replied, still beaming.


    "Collectible value? In other words, it is of no real use?" Glen harbored no interest in collecting such items.


    "One cannot view it in such a simplistic manner. This scroll states that certain orc - headed tribes dwelling in the desert regions hold this item in high regard, deeming it more precious than gemstones. You could barter this for anything you desire from them."


    "Nonetheless, it remains of little consequence to me, for I have no intention of venturing into the desert," Glen said, turning away with a distinct lack of enthusiasm.


    "Are you relinquishing this item?" the old man shouted, brandishing the red stone in his hand.


    "No..." Glen was on the verge of waving it off, but after a moment''s reflection, he decided to retain it. He turned back and retrieved the red stone.


    Although it might not serve any immediate purpose, in truth, it was rather aesthetically pleasing. He could present it to his sister Danni when he had the opportunity to pay her a visit.


    The old man pursed his lips. Had Glen declined the stone, he had intended to polish it and set it in his dog''s collar.


    Rolling up and stowing away the documents in his hand, he was on the verge of returning to tend to his dog.


    Suddenly, the rapid clatter of hooves reached his ears, emanating from outside the town.


    The old man instinctively looked in the direction of the sound. First, he caught sight of a townsman clad in work clothes who had just returned from shopping. The man, too, had heard the approaching hooves and merely edged to the side, disinclined to turn around.


    The next instant, four demonic steeds, their forms wreathed in dark - purple flames, neighed loudly as they galloped into view.


    These four horses drew an oversized carriage, exquisitely adorned in a dark - themed style, into the town.


    The townsman, who had just completed his shopping, was unaware that he had positioned himself directly in the path of the carriage. As a result, he was promptly trampled underfoot.


    The items he had purchased were scattered across the ground and crushed to a pulp.


    The carriage came to a halt in front of the large villa adjacent to Glen''s residence. The dark - purple flames flickering on the horses'' bodies subsided slightly.


    Glen, who had just entered the house, sensed that something was amiss and thus protruded his head out. He happened to witness the townsman being trampled by the carriage.


    This caused him to furrow his brow, as the owner of the carriage seemed rather overbearing.


    The hapless townsman, filled with indignation, scrambled to his feet, his appearance disheveled. On the verge of unleashing a tirade of abuse, he faltered upon catching sight of the carriage.


    Although he had no knowledge of the owner''s identity, the aura exuded by any one of the four demonic horses far surpassed his own, and the carriage''s owner was evidently someone he dared not provoke.


    Thus, the townsman could only retrieve the untrampled items from the ground and circumnavigate the carriage, making his departure.


    There was an ornate door on the side of the carriage. With a creak, the door swung open.


    Voluminous billows of black smoke, interspersed with purple electrical arcs, billowed out from behind the door. Soon, sixteen warriors, fully encased in iron armor, emerged in an orderly fashion.


    Upon alighting from the carriage, they promptly formed two columns and took up positions on either side of the flagstone path in the villa''s front yard.