The Frost Venom Fang did not grant them time to breathe.
Its colossal head reared back, jaws yawning wide as a hiss thundered across the ledge—
KRRAAAAAASH—
like glaciers tearing themselves apart.
Thick strands of luminous venom dripped from its fangs, sizzling as they struck stone. Where the liquid touched, rock smoked, frost racing outward in jagged veins that split the ledge with sharp, crystalline cracks.
Then the Fang lunged.
Its coils unfurled in a blinding blur of blue-white scales, the sheer mass of it warping the air. The tail struck first—
WHOOOOM—
A sweeping arc of annihilation.
Half a dozen servants were lifted clean off the ground, bodies flung screaming into the open sky. Their cries stretched and thinned as they fell, Doppler-twisted, until the mist swallowed them whole.
Venom followed.
The serpent spewed it in glittering arcs—deadly rain scattering across the ledge. Droplets struck stone, flash-freezing it instantly. A guard caught a splash across his arm; the limb turned blue-white in a heartbeat. He tried to lift his spear—
CRACK.
The arm shattered like glass.
Servants weren't so lucky.
Venom splattered exposed flesh. Legs locked mid-stride. Faces froze in masks of agony as blood turned to slush inside their veins. Some toppled rigid, others screamed until frost sealed their throats.
Panic finally broke loose.
The ledge became a killing ground. Servants shoved, clawed, trampled one another in blind desperation, boots slipping on venom-slick ice. Bodies went over the edge in tangled heaps, fingers grasping at nothing.
"BEHIND THE BOULDERS—NOW!" Torin roared.
Levi didn't think—he acted.
He seized Mira's arm and dragged her with him, scrambling over loose scree as stone skidded beneath their feet. They dove behind a cluster of jagged rocks just as the Fang's roar shook the cliffs again. Snow cascaded down in powdery avalanches, burying the slow and the unlucky.
Torin followed, spear clenched tight, his broad body shielding them as debris rained down.
From cover, Levi peered out, heart hammering.
The Fang dominated the ledge—coils crushing stone to powder, head snapping with surgical precision at anything that moved.
Cassian's voice cut through the chaos, sharp as steel.
"Form up! Spears high—flank it!"
A pause. Then, colder:
"Servants forward. Draw its eyes."
The meaning was unmistakable.
Bait.
Guards advanced in a disciplined wedge, weapons gleaming—but servants were driven ahead of them at spearpoint. Gray-robed figures stumbled from cover, shouting, throwing stones, waving arms in terror.
They died seconds later.
The Fang struck like lightning—fangs punching through one man's chest, lifting him screaming before flinging the corpse aside. Coils snapped shut around others, bone shattering in wet, awful bursts. Venom sprayed again.
Torin growled low but stayed put. Charging now would be suicide.
Mira watched with shaking hands, faint light flickering at her fingertips—ready, but restrained. Every spark she spent might be her last.
Then—
WHAM.
The Fang's tail smashed down nearby, obliterating a boulder in an explosion of ice and stone. Shards rained over them. Venom splashed through the chaos.
Torin grunted sharply.
A glancing hit—his leg.
The robe burned away as flesh blistered and froze, skin darkening at the edges. He dropped to one knee, breath tearing from his lungs.
Mira was on him instantly.
"Hold still—breathe," she whispered, palms pressing to the wound.
Warmth flowed—weak, trembling, but stubborn. The venom's spread slowed. Blackened flesh paled. Pain dulled from agony to a deep, grinding throb.
Not healed.
But saved.
Torin exhaled hard, gripping her shoulder. "Owe you… again."
The battle dragged on for hours.
The blue sun crawled across the sky, indifferent. The Fang did not tire. Wounds inflicted by spear and blade sealed themselves in webs of frost, scales knitting back together with horrifying speed. Cassian's whip struck vulnerable seams—under the jaw, across the eyes—drawing thunderous roars, but even his precision could not bring the beast down.
Servants died in waves.
Each death bought seconds.
The ledge ran slick with frozen blood and venom. Bodies piled like broken dolls.
At last, wounded and enraged, the Fang withdrew—sliding into the shadowed depths of the pass with a final, echoing hiss. Blue ichor trailed from deep wounds, freezing where it fell.
Silence followed.
A heavy, suffocating silence.
Levi rose on shaking legs.
Fewer than ten servants remained standing.
The summit was still days away.
This—this had been only one guardian.
They made camp where exhaustion forced them to stop, huddled in the lee of the cliff where the ledge widened into a shallow alcove. No trenches tonight. Just bodies pressed against stone. Torches burned low, casting shadows that writhed like ghosts.
Far below, the Fang roared again.
Alive.
Watching.
Levi, Mira, and Torin huddled close. Mira's head rested against Levi's shoulder, breath shallow from the strain. Torin sat with his bandaged leg stretched out, spear across his lap, eyes never fully closing.
Whispers slipped through the dark.
"We can't keep this up," Mira murmured. "They're burning us for time."
Torin nodded. "Down's death. Up's worse. But… it's all we've got."
Levi stared into the torchlight—the red door, the bargain, the cost. "The Spell wants survivors forged like this. If we break away, the guards kill us. If we stay…"
"…the mountain might," Torin finished.
Silence.
Then, quietly: "Stick together. Watch for a chance."
It was fragile hope.
But it was all they had.
The wind howled through the pass. Somewhere in the dark, the serpent breathed.
And Blackwind Mountain waited.