FL - Chapter 52: Frost and Flame

Louis led the group into the Mana Marrow factory, where a pungent alchemical odor struck them at once.

He raised a hand in greeting. "Good morning."

In one corner, Hilko looked up without much energy. Heavy bags hung beneath his eyes as he shot his merciless taskmaster a resentful glance.

"Good morning, my lord." His voice carried a hint of complaint. He handed Louis a crude clay pot about the size of a fist.

The jar was surprisingly heavy. Its surface was plain, with a strip of linen protruding from the mouth, and the whole thing looked hastily molded.

Louis frowned. "This is it?"

Hilko answered in his usual lazy drawl. "It may not look like much, but everything inside is dangerous.

"Mana Marrow, powdered Ice-Armored Bear crystal, and Fire Tinder Grass. The pot is packed full.

"It packs quite a punch. Give me more time, and I can refine the design and make it even stronger."

"Then let's see what it can do." Louis raised an eyebrow and turned toward the testing ground prepared in advance.

Several magical beasts had been tied down at different points around the site. They struggled against their restraints, growling uneasily.

The knights put on specially made protective masks, lit the fuse, and hurled the Mana Flame Bomb.

The clay pot spun through the air in a high arc and struck the center of the testing ground.

Boom!

Phase One: Cold Detonation!

Blue light flashed the instant the bomb burst. The Ice-Armored Bear crystals shattered, unleashing a wave of bitter cold.

The air contracted violently, like the whole space had been seized and wrenched inward by an invisible hand.

Frost covered the beasts' hides in an instant. Their limbs spasmed and drew tight.

Then the powerful suction dragged them bodily toward the center of the blast.

Their shrill cries filled the testing ground. Hooves and claws tore at the dirt, but they couldn't break free.

Phase Two: Fire Detonation!

Just as the beasts were about to escape the freezing current, the next disaster struck.

The Mana Marrow ignited, erupting into a violent firestorm.

The Fire Tinder Grass fibers, catalyzed by an unseen force, devoured the oxygen around them at a frantic pace.

Flames flowed over the beasts like a clinging liquid and raced along their fur.

The fire slipped into every fold of skin like a venomous serpent, consuming flesh wherever it spread.

"GRAAAGH!"

One beast's eyes burned and burst. Their fluids vanished in wisps of white vapor, while the hot breath from its muzzle turned to dry ash.

The stench of scorched flesh filled the air, foul enough to turn the stomach.

Phase Three: Toxic Corrosion!

Black smoke rose from the blast.

It wasn't ordinary residue, but highly toxic gas released by the burning Mana Marrow.

The first beast caught in it began to convulse. Its limbs thrashed wildly, and strangled howls squeezed from its throat.

The flesh around its wounds rotted at a visible rate, tearing open under an unseen force until white bone showed beneath.

The beasts struggled, screamed, and writhed. Then—

Silence.

Ash drifted across the field. The reek of sulfur, char, and decay hung thick in the air.

The testing ground had been devastated. Blackened carcasses lay embedded in the mud.

Even the soil had been scorched dark brown and gave off a faint, eerie glow. Death itself seemed to have soaked into the ground.

Louis stood motionless, surveying the wreckage in silence.

Sif's face had gone pale. Her fists clenched at her sides.

She had seen slaughter and bloodshed. She had even fought on battlefields herself.

But she had never witnessed death like this.

It came without warning and extinguished every spark of life.

Hilko, meanwhile, wore an odd expression—part pride, part pain.

He blinked his bloodshot eyes, rubbed his aching neck, and sighed.

"The destructive power is impressive. But my lord, the materials for a single bomb cost four hundred Gold Coins."

He stared at the scorched earth like a heap of glittering coins was burning before him. The loss clearly pained him, even though it wasn't his money.

That finally pulled Louis from his thoughts. "How many do we have?"

"Seven," Hilko said with another sigh. "And that's all. We don't have enough materials for another. You only brought back so many Ice-Armored Bear crystals."

"Does it have a name?"

"Not yet."

Louis looked over the lifeless ground and the black embers still burning across it. The corner of his mouth curled upward.

"Call it Frost & Flame."

Hilko nodded. The name suited it.

Louis reached out and tapped the bomb's rough clay shell.

This weapon would be his final trump card.

...

Count Firth sat in an ornate chair in his manor, kneading the thick flesh beneath his chin. Anxiety covered his face.

"Damn those worthless bastards! Commanding a campaign against insurgents... What the hell do I know about that?"

The sudden assignment had clearly terrified him.

He had inherited his father's title less than two years ago, and now he was expected to organize a campaign to exterminate the Snowsworn?

What kind of joke was that?

He had heard the vicious name of the Snowsworn many times.

His father, the previous Count Firth, had been a renowned northern general. He had ruled Snowpeak County for decades and made the northern tribes tremble at the mention of his name.

But what was the current Count Firth?

Just a fat man forced to inherit a title, one who could barely stay in the saddle, let alone command an army.

"My lord, this may be an opportunity."

The speaker was his military advisor, a calculating man with cunning written all over his face.

"Think about it. The order to exterminate the Snowsworn came from Duke Edmund. Every noble in the Northlands must answer the call, especially the colonization lords from the south."

Count Firth frowned. "What are you suggesting?"

The advisor leaned closer. "Send them to their deaths.

"Those southern nobles are weak, and they haven't established firm foundations yet. The campaign against the Snowsworn will be extremely dangerous. Give them the most perilous assignments and bleed away their forces.

"Once they've suffered heavy losses, you can use your authority as Count to absorb their territories and resources. Why shouldn't you profit from the chaos?"

Count Firth's eyes widened. *You can do that?*

The advisor continued to fan the flames. "Besides, you know the old northern houses have no love for these southerners.

"If the southern nobles are wiped out, the Northlands will belong entirely to true northerners again.

"And what about the nobles who look down on you? The ones who say you inherited everything from your father and aren't fit to govern Snowpeak County? What will they say then?

"They'll have to admit they were wrong. They'll have to recognize you as the true ruler of Snowpeak County."

Count Firth fell silent for several seconds.

Then a vicious smile spread across his face.

"You make a good point."

He lifted his wineglass and gently swirled its contents.

He could already picture the southern nobles being swallowed by the ice and snow—and the masses looking upon him with reverence.

"Good. We'll do it your way."