Chapter 468: An Honor
Commander Jannik stood defiantly on the icy floor of the Great Hall, his dark blue horn blazing with determination as he stood his ground between Nyrielle and the assembled Frost Walkers behind him. Inwardly, his heart pounded in his chest filling his limbs with power and fury that he’d thought he’d left behind along with the tempestuious days of his youth when he contended with Ritchel for the title of Lord of the High Pass.
Ever since that bitter defeat, Jannik honed himself into the best weapon he could, growing from a powerful warrior and fearless hunter into a steady commander who could both lead his men and stand back to see the larger picture. With each year that passed, though his body softened ever so slightly, his mind sharpened by twice as much, turning him into a spear that Ritchel could rely on to vanquish their enemies and protect their people.
It hadn’t happened over night, but the years of rivalry between the two men had slowly melted before refreezing in the shape of an unshakable friendship. Seeing the bodies of Ritchel’s Honor Guard was hard enough, but the visit he’d paid his friend and the sight of his wounded, powerless body was even worse. He’d promised then that, whatever it took, he would fight for his friend and more importantly, fight to protect their people now that the mighty Ritchel no longer could.
At first, Jannik’s heart shuddered in relief when the Mother of Trees said there might be a chance, but when she explained her plan, everything that had been joyous in that moment twisted like a snake, sinking its fangs into the hand that dared to hold it.
"You have already crippled Lord Ritchel," Jannik said, glaring from the Mother of Trees to the Thistle Witch. "Six of our greatest sorcerers have fallen and five more of our young warriors lay not far from them. Our Young Lord lays broken and mindless in the cells below and there is no one else who can practice the fearsome sorcery he learned from the ancestors. Our greatest strengths have all been broken like ice hurled upon the stones," he said.
"But even this isn’t enough for you!" Jannik shouted, clenching his fists until the tips of his claws pierced the thick flesh of his palms, spilling a trace of blood into his dark fur. "Now you would feed on our people, draining away our literal lifeblood and for what? A chance that you might restore Lord Ritchel? A hope that you can hold over us for as long as you like?"
"We are not sheep like the Horned Clan to be grazed upon like livestock!" he roared, his voice growing louder with every sentence. "We will not stand for this!"
"Childish," Nyrielle said, shaking her head at his outburst and raising a hand shrouded in dark, shadowy energy as she prepared to ’defeat’ the disruptive commander before he could further derail the proceedings.
She was willing to invest as long as it took to create however many Blood Vitality Crystals were necessary to save Ritchel’s life. Even if the Frost Walkers didn’t supply her with blood, she would seek offerings from within the Vale of Mists or prey on human villages if she needed to in order to save the grandson of the man who had sheltered so many of her people when the Vale of Mists fell to Cellach Lothian.