Lahat ng Kabanata ng Rise of the Frozen Sovereign: Kabanata 51 - Kabanata 60

"I did what I had to do," Aiden countered, his voice straining, the frost creeping further up his forearm, a spiderweb of white veins beneath his skin. "If I hadn’t, you would have frozen solid before we even reached the foothills. My soul is already halfway to the void, Ignis. I won't let yours follow."Ignis paced the length of the cramped cellar, his boots silent on the damp earth. He looked at Aiden with a mixture of pity and annoyance, his golden eyes burning with an unnerving, ageless intensity. "Your 'soul' is a distraction. You’re trading your life for a delay. Every time you pull that cold into yourself, you’re carving away another piece of the man you were. Tell me, Aiden, do you even remember what it feels like to be warm?"Aiden stared at his own hands, the quartz-like skin now glowing with a faint, bioluminescent chill. "I remember the smell of baked bread. I remember the weight of a heavy woolen coat in the winter. And I remember that I promised to keep you safe."Vane p

Vane flicked a stray droplet of rot-water from his knee, his mechanical limb clicking with a rhythmic, maddening persistence. He peered at Aiden through eyes clouded by decades of tactical failures and cheap spirits. "You’ll just shatter, boy. One good strike to the chest and you’ll fall apart like a winter-weakened branch. Is that the end you envisioned when you stole the brat from the High Cradle?"Aiden didn't look up. He watched the frost on his skin pulse with a rhythmic, sickly pale light, syncing with his heartbeat—or what remained of it. "I didn't steal him. I liberated him from a legacy of butchery. And I’m not shattering. Not yet.""Semantics," Ignis spat, his voice dropping an octave, sounding less like a boy and more like the weapon he was rapidly becoming. He leaned against the cellar wall, the damp wood groaning under his weight. "We’re sitting ducks in this hole. The Silver Moon doesn't care about our moral justifications. They care about their census records. And right

The air in the cellar grew brittle, the dampness crystallizing into fine, floating needles of rime that stung the skin. Aiden stood, his joints protesting with the dry, splintering sound of old wood. He didn't look at Ignis, but he could feel the boy’s burning gaze—an intensity that was quickly outgrowing the soft, confused toddler he had plucked from the cradle years ago."Kaelen isn't a ghost, Ignis," Aiden said, his voice a low, raspy vibration that seemed to pull the heat directly out of the air. "She’s a mirror. She was the one who taught me how to hollow out my own conscience before the Silver Moon could do it for me. She was my mentor, and before that, she was the reason I started questioning if our blood was truly divine or just convenient fuel for their engine."Vane scoffed, the sound sharp and grating. He took another long pull from his flask, the liquid sloshing with a rhythmic, alcoholic cadence. "Mentor? That’s a poetic way of saying she’s the one who held the branding i

"Stop it, Ignis," Aiden snapped, his voice a serrated blade cutting through the gloom of the cellar. The support beam groaned under the boy’s strike, dust raining down like gray snow. Ignis whirled around, his eyes glowing with a faint, volatile amber light. "Stop what, Aiden? Stop existing? Stop being the anchor that drags you down into the dirt? Every time we talk about her, you lose another piece of yourself. Look at your hand."Aiden looked down. His right hand was a ruin of pale, dead tissue. The skin had tightened over the bone until it resembled parchment stretched over iron. He could no longer feel the rough texture of the wood or the biting cold of the floor. He squeezed his fist, and the air around it shimmered with freezing mist. "My hand is fine," Aiden lied, his voice devoid of warmth."It’s not fine, and you know it," Vane interjected, his prosthetic leg clicking as he shifted his weight. "You’re bleeding heat, Aiden. Not into the room, but into the void. If Kaelen fin

"Waiting for them to make a mistake," Aiden whispered, his voice barely a rasp as he leaned over the scarred wooden table. The candle flickered, the flame bending away from his hand as if the very air refused to touch him. "Kaelen isn't the patient type, Vane. She’s arrogant. She’s been taught that the Silver Moon is the apex of this world, and she’s terrified of anything that proves that theory wrong. She’ll walk through the front door. Not because she’s brave, but because she can’t conceive of an outcome where she loses." Vane let out a hollow, hacking laugh, his eyes scanning the cellar's ceiling as if expecting the floorboards above to splinter at any moment. "Arrogance is a lethal defect, I’ll give you that. But she isn't just a silver-tongued aristocrat with an entourage of sycophants, Aiden. She’s got the Blackwood Lancers stationed three blocks over. They don't walk through front doors. They turn the house into a funeral pyre and let the embers do the forensics." "Then let