Sword Snow Stride Novel Translation Novels & Stories

Snow—my white wolf with cold blue eyes—lifted her head. The witch froze. Good. Even without speaking, Snow radiated lethal grace. My body felt heavier, stronger, and wild. Every instinct sharpened. My paws touched the floor with silent promise. The witch’s fingers twitched, drawing runes in a desperate attempt to defend herself, but Snow was already moving. A blur of white. A sharp snap of bones. A wet crack. In the span of a breath, Snow lunged at her, jaws stretching wide. Teeth sank into the witch’s neck and tore through flesh and bone with merciless precision.

--- The blizzard isn't weather-it's a *taunt*. Snow doesn't fall here. It *hunts*. Razor-edged flakes swarm us like locusts, carving shallow trenches into our exposed skin. Eden limps ahead, his breath ragged, the jagged scars along his arms glowing faintly through layers of stolen Frostbound furs. The green embers in his veins have dimmed to ghostlights, his void-stained blood crusted black where the Sovereign's ice pierced him. He refuses to speak of the wound. Refuses to acknowledge the rot seeping into his gait.

Denise sighed, her voice fading as the howling blizzard swallowed the porch. "Let him run," Patricia whispered. "A wolf who won't fight for his alpha isn't a wolf at all." The snow outside wasn't just falling; it was a wall of white iron slamming against the glass of the runner. I gripped the leather steering wheel, my claws tearing small tracks into the hide as the engine roared against the rising storm. The mountain road leading down from Skydrivee into the valley center was already choking on ice, a line of iron-rimmed supply sleds and massive timber haulers backed up for miles under the frozen pines.

Then, the goose-hair-like snowflakes swirled and poured out like silver flying knives. Behind the gate, it seemed to be a strange space that would always be stormy and snowing. Ding Hao walked into the snowstorm. "Hee hee, I didn't expect you to come back so soon." Ding Honglei's voice sounded. The darkness in front of Ding Hao gradually dissipated, and a Mystical Ice Hill appeared in front of him.

Nathalia’s POV As the echoes of the fierce battle fade away, our hearts race with the realization that we must continue moving forward without hesitation. The ground beneath our feet, once treacherous, now becomes even more perilous as it becomes covered in a glacial sheen. The snowfall, relentless and unforgiving, only adds to our growing anxiety. However, with each step we take, our determination to reach the safety of the pack lands strengthens. And just as exhaustion threatens to consume us, a ray of hope appears in the form of Grandma. Her face, etched with concern, reflects the love and protection she offers as she sprints towards us through the wintry air.

"What?" "Sophia," Adrian clarified, swirling his glass. "She was clearly flirting with you though." "And your bodyguard was clearly undressing you with his eyes," I countered. "So I guess we both have interesting staff." Adrian laughed and it was the first genuine sound I'd heard from him ever. "This is going to be a very strange few months." "The strangest," I agreed, and found myself smiling back at him. Adrian set down his glass and turned to face me fully. "Maybe we should establish a truce."

"We have about ten seconds before the rest of the trucks get down the ridge." I stumbled out of the SUV, my boots sinking into the fresh powder. The wind hit my face like a thousand tiny needles. I'd never been this cold in my entire life, not even close. My fingers went numb immediately, useless dead weights at the ends of my wrists. I watched Vane and Ronan strip out of their ruined clothes, their breath fogging in the frozen air. The shift wasn't majestic. It was gritty and violent, the sound of their bones breaking and reforming echoing over the howling wind. They hit the ground on four paws, massive and terrifying, their fur bristling against the blizzard.

The massive, translucent jaw of the Frost-Wyrm came down like a falling glacier, its glass-like teeth shearing through the heavy timber deck of the sled with a deafening, splintering roar. The impact severed the front harness completely. The six-legged tundra striders, suddenly freed from our weight, bolted into the blinding white storm, their claws clicking frantically against the ice until they vanished into the blizzard. The remaining half of the wooden deck, carrying Killian, Kaelen, and me, tilted violently backward.

My hot breath puffed and curled in front of me. Dad wasted no time, charging through the snow, following my screams and the little drag marks deep in the snow. I struggled to run after him and watched as my Dad shifted into a large, brown wolf. His paws thundered through the snow, kicking up little flurries and bits of frozen soil. While my heart thundered and my legs screamed from running through the snow, I couldn't ignore how beautiful everything looked. The fresh scent of snow lingered in the air, cold as it rushed through my nose and into my lungs.

My senses ignited, the forest's silence intensified, the strange creature's disturbance, the sudden shift in the frigid breeze from the northeast, all surged through me. Footsteps echoed through the snow, the crunch distinct. A pair, likely. Heading toward the trap—most likely a bear, a massive one. To heighten my senses, I rubbed my hands together vigorously. Blood pulsed in response, pumping warmth through my veins. The freezing air had temporarily dulled my senses.