Chapter 22: Vassalheim's Fury and the Wyrm's Shadow
The savage, fur-clad horde surged across the frozen moors like a tide of primal fury, their guttural war cries swallowed by the keening wind. At their forefront, the colossal, hairy giant, 'Frost-Pelt' as Aura would later name him, roared in agony and rage, massive iron chains digging into its thick hide, goaded onward by spear-prodding Wildling handlers. Their target: the glittering, alien structure of Vassalheim, a defiant spear of blue-black ice thrust into the heart of their desolate domain.
From a high, sheltered battlement within the fortress, Ainz Ooal Gown and his lieutenants observed the approaching onslaught. Cocytus stood beside him, his four katanas already unsheathed, their icy edges shimmering with deadly intent. Albedo's golden eyes gleamed with anticipation, while Sebas maintained his customary stoic vigilance. Aura, perched on Sky-Screecher nearby, had a hunter's keenness in her gaze.
"They. Are. Numerous. My. Lord," Cocytus rumbled, his mandibles clicking. "But. Their. Discipline. Is. Lacking. Their. Equipment. Primitive. The. Chained. Giant. Is. Their. Only. True. Siege. Weapon."
"Their shamans, Cocytus," Ainz noted, his (Elian's) eyes narrowed in concentration, the obsidian amulet pulsing faintly as he scanned the approaching horde. "I detect crude, elemental magic coalescing around those figures with the bone fetishes. Likely ice-based, given their deities. They could be problematic for your lesser troops."
"My. Ice. Huskarls. And. Frost. Sprites. Will. Hold. The. Walls. And. Gate," Cocytus declared with unwavering confidence. "I. Will. Meet. Their. Champions. Or. The. Giant. Myself. If. It. Breaches. The. Outer. Defenses."
The first wave of Wildlings crashed against the magically hardened ice walls of Vassalheim. Bone-tipped spears and stone axes skittered harmlessly off the slick, incredibly durable surfaces. A hail of ice shards, launched with deadly precision by Cocytus's Frost Sprites concealed within crenellations, tore through their ranks, eliciting howls of pain and surprise. The Ice Huskarls, silent and implacable, stood ready at the main gate, their enchanted ice armor deflecting the few projectiles that reached them.
The chained giant, bellowing in frustration, was driven forward by its handlers. It reached the colossal ice gate and began to pound on it with its enormous, rock-like fists. Each blow sent shudders through the fortress, the sound like cracking glaciers.
"Aura," Ainz commanded, "take to the sky. Provide aerial reconnaissance of their numbers and disposition. Harass their flanks and target those shamans. Do not engage their main force directly unless unavoidable."
"Yes, Ainz-sama!" Aura chirped. With a sharp cry, Sky-Screecher launched into the icy wind, circling high above the battlefield. From its back, Aura loosed a stream of expertly aimed arrows, each one finding a Wildling shaman or a particularly aggressive chieftain, disrupting their crude chants and sowing disarray. She also tried to get a closer look at the giant, her Beast Master senses picking up its immense pain, terror, and rage. It was a creature of instinct, not malice, driven mad by its captivity.
Albedo shifted impatiently beside Ainz. "My Lord, this is… tedious. Allow me to incinerate these primitives. A single [Armageddon Evil: Nuclear Blast] would cleanse this entire plain."
"Restrain yourself, Albedo," Ainz said firmly, though a part of him appreciated her typically destructive enthusiasm. "This is Cocytus's domain, his battle to command. We are here to observe, support, and… acquire necessary resources." He gestured subtly towards the teeming mass of Wildlings. "Their souls, while individually weak, are numerous. And their giant… it interests me."
As the giant continued to hammer at the gate, which, despite its magical reinforcement, was beginning to show hairline fractures, Cocytus acted. "I. Will. Deal. With. This. Beast," he declared. With a speed that belied his massive frame, he leaped from the battlement, landing with a ground-shaking impact before the struggling gate. His four katanas, God-Slaying Emperor Blade amongst them, became a blur of icy death. He met the Wildlings swarming around the giant, each sweep of his blades sending multiple attackers flying, their bodies bisected or shattering into frozen shards. His [Frost Aura] radiated outwards, slowing his enemies, their limbs growing heavy, their breath frosting in the super-chilled air.
Sebas, meanwhile, remained at Ainz's side, an immovable object, effortlessly deflecting stray ice shards or bone arrows that came their way, his movements almost too subtle to follow.
Ainz, seeing the sheer number of attackers and the pressure on the gate, decided to intervene more directly, yet strategically. He focused his will. "[Mass Hold Species: Humanoid]!" A wave of paralyzing energy, invisible and irresistible, washed over a vast swathe of the Wildling horde. Hundreds of the attackers froze mid-stride, their savage cries dying in their throats, their limbs locked in place.
"Cocytus! Now!" Ainz commanded.
Cocytus, seizing the opportunity, unleashed his full fury upon the immobilized Wildlings near the gate, his katanas reaping a terrible harvest. His Ice Huskarls surged forward, their ice weapons crunching through frozen armor and flesh. The slaughter was swift and brutal. Ainz then released the [Mass Hold] spell, and a massive wave of soul-energy, a veritable torrent, flowed into him, his mana capacity expanding dramatically. He felt himself nearing the threshold where more potent YGGDRASIL spells, perhaps even 6th or 7th tier, might become accessible if he truly focused his will and power.
The sudden, inexplicable paralysis and the subsequent carnage threw the remaining Wildlings into a panic. Their shamans, already harried by Aura's aerial attacks, lost control of their crude elemental enchantments. It was then that Ainz turned his attention to the giant.
"The chains, Albedo," he said. "That creature is suffering. And it could be… useful."
Albedo, eager for any action, smiled ferociously. "As you command, Ainz-sama!" She focused her power, a sphere of destructive energy forming in her hand. "[Greater Break Item]!" she intoned, aiming not at the giant, but at the massive, enchanted iron fetters that bound its wrists and ankles. With a series of sharp cracks like thunder, the magical chains shattered, falling away in smoking fragments.
The giant, Frost-Pelt, suddenly freed, roared in bewildered triumph. For a moment, it stood swaying, its small, pain-filled eyes darting wildly. Then, with a bellow of pure, accumulated rage, it turned not upon Vassalheim, but upon its former captors. Its colossal fists became instruments of terrible vengeance, smashing through the now-disorganized Wildling ranks, sending bodies flying like broken dolls. The tide of battle turned completely. The Wildlings, caught between Cocytus's implacable warriors, the giant's rampage, and Aura's deadly arrows from above, broke and fled, a scattered, terrified mob disappearing back into the icy moors.
The battle for Vassalheim was over. The victory was absolute.
In the aftermath, Cocytus's forces secured the area. A few surviving Wildling chieftains and shamans were captured, their initial defiance quickly crumbling under the combined, terrifying presence of Cocytus, Albedo, and the silent, imposing Sebas. The souls Ainz had harvested during the battle left him feeling invigorated, his power thrumming beneath his human skin.
The interrogation of the captured shamans, conducted by Ainz and interpreted by Cocytus (who seemed to have a rudimentary understanding of their guttural tongue), revealed a chilling truth. The Wildling tribes had not attacked Vassalheim out of aggression or greed. They were fleeing. Fleeing from a far greater terror, an ancient power that had awakened in the deepest, most desolate reaches of the Land of Eternal Frost – the "Great Ice Wyrm," a creature of legend their own ice deities (powerful, ancient ice elementals, it seemed) could not control, let alone defeat. They had seen Vassalheim as a potential, if desperate, refuge, or perhaps a source of power to be plundered in their flight.
The freed giant, Frost-Pelt, exhausted and wounded, had collapsed onto the ice after its rampage. Aura, dismounting from Sky-Screecher, approached it cautiously. Using her innate Beast Taming abilities, her gentle voice, and an offering of magically preserved rations, she slowly calmed the massive creature. It was, she discovered, a primitive but sentient being, capable of basic understanding, its fury born of pain and captivity. After a lengthy "conversation" consisting mostly of gestures, soothing sounds, and Aura's empathetic projections, Frost-Pelt, visibly grateful for its release and Aura's kindness, seemed to pledge its loyalty. With Ainz's permission, Cocytus formally offered the giant sanctuary and an alliance within Vassalheim. The ice fortress had gained a powerful, if highly unconventional, new defender.
The news of the Great Ice Wyrm, however, cast a pall over their victory. "A. Threat. Of. That. Magnitude…" Cocytus rumbled, his mandibles working. "Vassalheim's. Current. Defenses. May. Not. Be. Sufficient. If. It. Ventures. This. Far. South."
"Indeed," Ainz agreed. "Aura, your reconnaissance of the far north is now even more critical. I need you to locate this Ice Wyrm. Assess its power, its movements, its nature. But you are not to engage it under any circumstances. Observe, report. That is your sole objective." He then turned to Albedo. "Albedo, some of the defensive treasures you mentioned… perhaps Cocytus could benefit from them here, to bolster Vassalheim against such a cataclysmic threat?"
Albedo, ever eager to contribute, nodded enthusiastically. "Of course, Ainz-sama! I have several high-tier defensive artifacts, guardian summoning items, and powerful warding scrolls that could transform Vassalheim into an impregnable citadel, even against a creature of legendary power!"
Back at Greywater Keep, the atmosphere was one of quiet, anxious waiting…
Mare Bello Fiore, his small hands caked with earth, worked tirelessly in the newly excavated tunnels beneath the keep. The subterranean sanctuary was taking shape, a network of reinforced chambers and passages, magically shielded and concealed, a testament to his powerful earth magic and his devotion to Lord Ainz. Entoma's insects, a silent, ever-present net of vigilance, reported no major disturbances in the surrounding lands, though the anxiety of Ser Desmond Grell was becoming almost a palpable force within the keep's walls. The young knight, burdened by the prolonged absence of Lord Elian and his formidable companions, and haunted by the rumors of the "demon queen," paced the battlements restlessly, his reports to the Blackfish growing ever more desperate for guidance or intervention.
Demiurge, through Nyx's discreet observations, was well aware of Greywater's current state of leadership vacuum (from a human perspective). He had noted Lord Elian's focus on acquiring rare components and investigating ancient sites. His new plan began to solidify: he would "arrange" for the discovery of a significant, untapped resource on or near House Hollow's lands – perhaps a forgotten mine rich in iron ore, or a hidden grove of rare alchemical herbs. Nyx was tasked with subtly researching local legends or old land deeds that might point to such a "lost" resource, which Demiurge could then ensure was "miraculously" rediscovered by Greywater's patrols, providing a much-needed boon to Lord Elian upon his return, another testament to the fortuitous events that seemed to follow in his wake.
The decision was made. Ainz, Albedo, and Sebas would return to Greywater Keep. The situation in the Riverlands, particularly with the Blackfish's heightened scrutiny, required their presence. Cocytus, now reinforced by the formidable Frost-Pelt and soon to be further bolstered by Albedo's artifacts, would command Vassalheim, serving as their northern bulwark against the encroaching threat of the Ice Wyrm and other terrors of the far north. Aura, after a brief rest for herself and Sky-Screecher, would embark on her perilous reconnaissance mission to locate and assess the Great Ice Wyrm.
As Ainz, Albedo, and Sebas were making their final preparations for the arduous journey south, bidding farewell to Cocytus and Aura at Vassalheim's icy gates, Aura suddenly returned from a very brief, preliminary flight towards the north, her face pale, her usual exuberance replaced by a look of grim urgency. Sky-Screecher landed heavily, its breath pluming in the frigid air, its eyes wide with agitation.
"Ainz-sama!" Aura cried, stumbling from the griffin's back. "The Ice Wyrm… it's not just a legend… it's not just a distant threat! I saw its trail! Fresh! It's moving south… fast! Directly towards the Glacial Moors! Towards Vassalheim! And it's… Ainz-sama, it's impossibly huge! Bigger than any dragon I ever saw in YGGDRASIL! Its passage carves canyons in the ice!"
A stunned silence fell over the group. The Great Ice Wyrm, a threat they had believed to be distant, perhaps even mythical, was not only real but was now an immediate, existential danger to their newly established northern fortress and two of their most valuable Guardians. Ainz's plans for a measured return to Greywater, for a cautious consolidation of power, were instantly thrown into disarray. The savage tide had been repulsed, but the shadow of the Wyrm now loomed, vast and terrifying, over them all.