The rise of a Frozen Star

[POV Leah]

The sound of steel clashing against steel was the only thing that managed to drown out the noise of my own thoughts. Several days had passed since the purge of the Valerius and the tension in the academy’s underground, but the air in Whirikal still felt thick, as if the entire city were holding its breath.

I stood in the main training courtyard, beneath a blazing sun that made my practice armor feel twice as heavy. In front of me, Arthur and Mizuki exchanged blows with renewed intensity. After the incident with Varek, the heroes of Terra had awakened from their “exchange student” lethargy; now they trained with the desperation of those who knew the wolf was no longer at the door—it was already inside the house.

“Block with your shoulder, Arthur! Don’t let Mizuki find the angle under your arm!” I shouted, correcting his stance as I wiped the sweat from my forehead.

Mizuki stopped, resting her spear against the ground and breathing heavily.

“They’re improving, Leah. But I still feel like something’s missing. Like we’re preparing for a storm that has already soaked us to the bone.”

I was about to reply—to tell her the feeling was shared—when I saw a royal herald crossing the archway into the courtyard. He wasn’t just any soldier; he wore the colors of my father’s personal guard and moved with an urgency that made me drop my wooden sword instantly.

“Princess Leah! An urgent message from the front! Directly from King William himself!” the messenger exclaimed, handing me an envelope whose red wax seal, marked with the lion emblem, was partially cracked from the journey.

My hands trembled as I broke the seal. For days, Elliot’s calm had shielded me, but deep in my heart, doubt had continued to gnaw. I unfolded the parchment, and my father’s rough, powerful handwriting filled my vision.

> “My daughter, forgive the silence. The news Elliot received from the Church was only a facade to avoid panic if this message did not arrive. The truth is, we came within a step of darkness.”

My breath caught. My eyes raced over the lines, devouring the explanation for his delay. My father recounted how, during his return from the supposed meeting, his vanguard had been intercepted by an elite unit of demons. It had been a fierce battle, but instead of fighting to the death, the demons began a strategic retreat, luring them toward the foothills of the frozen peaks—to a cave that did not appear on any campaign map.

> “It seemed like an easy victory, Leah. We pursued them into the depths of the cavern, believing them cornered. That was our mistake. Once inside, the mountain roared. They had placed unstable mana charges in the natural pillars. They detonated the entrance behind us, burying us alive under thousands of tons of living rock.”

I closed my eyes for a second, imagining my father—the Lion of Whirikal—trapped in total darkness, without air, surrounded by enemies who knew the terrain.

> “We spent hours entombed in that mound of stone. My men’s magic was not enough to move such a mass of debris without causing a total collapse. Fortunately, the young hero who accompanied us as an observer from the Church—the boy named Kael—managed to synchronize his mana with the mountain’s vibrations. He created a breach, an exit that took us an entire day to clear, stone by stone. We are well, Leah. A bit battered, but on our way back to camp. The Lion does not die in a rat’s nest.”

A sigh of relief so deep it hurt my chest escaped my lips. Tears—ones I had refused to shed in front of Elliot or Lotte—threatened to fall. My father was alive. It hadn’t been the Merchant, nor a betrayal from the Church—it had been a classic military trap they had managed to escape.

“He’s okay!” I exclaimed, looking at the heroes who watched me with curiosity. “My father is safe! It was an ambush in a cave, but they’re already on their way back.”

“That’s excellent news, Leah,” Julian said, stepping closer with a sincere smile. “Whirikal needs its king now more than ever.”

I felt an overwhelming need to find Lotte. She was still vigilant, always in the shadows, doubting every word Elliot said. I wanted to show her the letter, to see that small spark of relief in her green eyes, and to tell her that—for once—the shadows hadn’t won.

I began gathering my equipment in a hurry, ready to run toward our room, when a strange sensation made me stop.

The training courtyard, usually filled with the murmur of students practicing, laughter, and instructors’ commands, had fallen into a deathly silence. It wasn’t the silence of attention—it was something far more unsettling.

I looked around. The students in the stands, those practicing with targets at the far end, and those simply passing through the side corridors had all stopped.

All at once.

“What’s happening…?” Mizuki murmured, instinctively taking a defensive stance and gripping her spear.

The students began moving again—but not normally. They turned toward us in perfect synchronization, as if they were a single entity. Then they started walking toward the center of the courtyard, where the heroes and I stood. Their steps were heavy, dragging, and their arms hung limply at their sides.

“Hey! What’s wrong with you?!” Arthur shouted, stepping forward. “Return to your positions!”

No one answered. As they drew closer, I could see their faces.

My blood ran cold.

Their eyes… had no light.

There was no anger, no hatred, no trace of consciousness. They were empty sockets, fixed on us with a predatory intensity. They walked as if they had lost all reason, as if their souls had been drained, leaving behind hollow shells driven by an чужая will.

“Leah… this isn’t normal,” Julian whispered, raising his shield and guarding my flank. “They look… like the soldiers from the forest Chloé described.”

There were hundreds of them. Every student in the academy—from the youngest to the most experienced seniors—was converging on us in a rapidly tightening circle. The sun still shone, but the cold emanating from that crowd was harsher than any winter.

“Lotte!” I shouted at the top of my lungs, hoping my voice would reach her somewhere within the academy.

My father’s letter was still clenched in my hand—a reminder of a victory that now felt like an illusion. The Lion was safe in the north, but here, in the heart of his kingdom, the “harvest” Varek had spoken of had finally begun.

And this time, the enemy was not demons or known traitors…

It was our own companions, turned into a mindless tide of flesh seeking to devour the last hope we had left.

“Don’t kill them!” I ordered the heroes, though my own voice sounded strange to me. “Restrain them! They’re our friends!”

But as the first student lunged at us with an inhuman growl, I knew the Academy of Whirikal was no longer a place of learning.

It had become a slaughterhouse.

And we were the main prize.