Chapter 24: The Wyrm's Legacy and the Falcon's Shadow
The Glacial Moors lay silent in the aftermath of the cataclysmic battle, the only sounds the mournful howl of the wind across the shattered ice and the occasional groan from the heavily damaged structure of Vassalheim. The colossal corpse of the Great Ice Wyrm dominated the landscape, a frozen monument to the terrifying power that had been unleashed – and overcome.
Ainz Ooal Gown, supported by Sebas, surveyed the scene, the raw, untamed energy of the Wyrm's soul still thrumming within his human vessel, pushing his mana capacity to unprecedented levels. He felt as though entire new vistas of magical understanding were opening before him, the higher tiers of YGGDRASIL's arcane arts no longer distant memories but tangible possibilities, albeit ones his current form would struggle to fully command without consequence.
The immediate focus, however, was the artifact clutched in the Wyrm's frozen talon: the pearlescent, intricately carved horn. With a grunt of effort from Cocytus and a precise application of force from Albedo, the talon was broken, and Ainz carefully retrieved the relic. It was surprisingly light, yet hummed with an almost unbearable concentration of elemental ice magic.
"[Greater Detect Magic]," Ainz incanted, his Elian voice now carrying a subtle, resonant depth. "[All Appraisal Magic Item]." His eyes, or rather the eyes of his youthful host, glowed with internal power as he focused upon the horn. Information flooded his mind, YGGDRASIL's familiar appraisal interface overlaying his vision.
[Horn of the Boreas Vind (Divine Class Artifact / World-Fragment Equivalent)]
A horn carved from the heart of an ancient Ice primordial, imbued with the untamed fury of the arctic abyss. Once sounded, it can summon the Winter's Heart Itself.
Properties:
* [Call of the Frostfell]: Allows the wielder to summon and command lesser to mid-tier ice elementals and beasts native to frozen environments. Command authority is based on the wielder's magical power and affinity for ice.
* [Glacial Dominion]: Passively and actively amplifies all ice-based magic and abilities of the wielder by a significant margin. Grants extreme resistance to cold-based attacks.
* [Breath of Niflheim]: Can unleash a localized, intense blizzard or create an area of absolute zero for a limited duration. Requires significant mana.
* [Voice of the Ice Lords] (Latent): Possesses the potential to commune with, or even exert control over, powerful ice deities or elemental lords of this world. Requires immense spiritual power and understanding of primal ice magic to unlock.
* [Niflheim's Retribution] (Single Activation): Contains a single, sealed super-tier ice spell, [Wrath of the Frozen Colossus], capable of devastating a wide area with cataclysmic ice and blizzard effects. (Activation conditions: Wielder must possess Overlord-class magical ability or higher, and willingly sacrifice a significant portion of their life force or an equivalent soul-mass).
A Divine Class Artifact, verging on World-Fragment power. Ainz's breath caught. Such an item, in YGGDRASIL, would have been the treasure of a guild. Here, it was a game-changer. He noted the final, costly activation condition for its ultimate spell with a grimace. Such power always came at a price.
"This… this is the 'Horn of the Boreas Vind'," Ainz announced to his assembled Guardians, who had gathered around, their expressions a mixture of awe and anticipation. "It is an artifact of immense power, capable of commanding ice elementals, amplifying ice magic, and… much more." He decided to keep the specifics of the super-tier spell and its cost to himself for now. "Cocytus, its affinity is clearly with you. However, its power is vast, and potentially… volatile. We will study it further. For now, I will hold it in trust."
Cocytus bowed his massive head. "As. You. Command. My. Lord. Its. Power. Will. Serve. Nazarick." Albedo's eyes gleamed with possessive pride for her master's acquisition, though a flicker of desire for such an artifact for herself was also visible.
With the immediate mystery of the horn partially unveiled, Ainz took a moment to truly assess his own internal state. The Wyrm's soul had been a deluge. He felt his connection to the Weave of Magic (or this world's equivalent) deepen profoundly. Spells that had previously been beyond his reach now felt accessible. He could confidently wield magic up to the 8th or perhaps even the 9th tier, though the strain on his human body would be considerable for the latter. A single 10th-tier spell might even be possible in a moment of absolute desperation, but the recoil could cripple him. He discreetly cast a low-level [Reinforce Body] on himself, then a subtle [Lesser Mana Attunement] to help his vessel cope with the sheer volume of energy now coursing through it.
The rebuilding of Vassalheim began in earnest. Cocytus, despite his grief at the loss of most of his Ice Huskarls, was a surprisingly adept architect of ice. Albedo, however, took charge with her characteristic efficiency and grandeur.
"Lord Cocytus," she declared, her human guise of Lady Alva radiating an almost palpable aura of command, "while your martial spirit is commendable, your fortress design, while functional, lacks… finesse. And true defensive depth. Allow me to oversee the primary reconstruction."
With Ainz's somewhat amused consent, Albedo unleashed her YGGDRASIL architectural knowledge and, more controversially, a small contingent of her undead servitors. Under the cover of the perpetual twilight and the still-raging (though now Cocytus-controlled) blizzard ward, skeletal laborers and death knight overseers, summoned via a temporary [Gate] Albedo opened with a significant expenditure of her own mana, began to toil. They used the incredibly durable hide and bones of the slain Ice Wyrm, along with magically shaped ice, to repair and expand Vassalheim. New, thicker walls rose, infused with the Wyrm's essence, making them preternaturally resistant to cold and physical damage. Towers were reshaped, kill zones established, and hidden passages carved within the ice.
Cocytus, initially taken aback by Albedo's usurpation of his architectural duties, quickly came to respect her terrifying efficiency and the sheer scale of her vision. He focused instead on his garrison. With Ainz's guidance, and a temporary loan of the Horn of the Boreas Vind, Cocytus found he could now summon and command more powerful Frost Sprites, as well as a handful of formidable mid-tier Ice Elementals, their forms sculpted from the purest heart of the magical ice. Aura, with Frost-Pelt the giant recovering under her care (and already showing signs of forming a strong bond with the Dark Elf), began scouting for other local ice beasts that might be tamed or bound to Vassalheim's service.
In the shadowed underbelly of the Riverlands, Demiurge's plans continued to unfold…
Nyx's reports from Greywater Keep detailed the prolonged absence of Lord Elian and his core retinue on their "northern pilgrimage." This confirmed Demiurge's suspicion that they were pursuing Cocytus. The news of the cataclysmic energy surge from the far north, which Nyx had relayed from Mare and Entoma's terrified observations (via her own subtle infiltration of Greywater's local gossip network), only solidified Demiurge's belief that Lord Ainz was achieving new heights of power. The "rescued merchant caravan" plan, while still viable as a minor boon, now felt insufficient.
His new gambit centered on Ser Ryman Frey, a notoriously cruel and avaricious cousin of Lord Stevron Frey, whose lands lay near the border with the Westerlands. Ser Ryman was a constant thorn in the side of both House Tully and the more powerful branches of his own Frey family, his exactions on trade and his brutal treatment of smallfolk causing widespread resentment. Eliminating him would be a service to many, yet his death could easily be attributed to the Frey's well-known penchant for internecine squabbling, or perhaps even to Lannister machinations, given the proximity to their lands.
Demiurge's agents, led by the ruthless mercenary Vorlag, moved with cold precision. They infiltrated Ser Ryman's small, poorly managed keep, seeding dissent amongst his disgruntled men-at-arms, poisoning his kennels, and sabotaging his meager defenses. Nyx, meanwhile, was tasked with a more delicate mission: to "acquire" any maps, ledgers, or correspondence from Ser Ryman's study that might detail his illicit dealings, his hidden wealth, or any politically sensitive information. Such intelligence could prove invaluable to Lord Ainz later. The stage was being set for a swift, brutal, and utterly deniable coup de théâtre.
Within Vassalheim's rapidly transforming walls, Ainz convened his northern council. Albedo, Sebas, Cocytus, and Aura gathered in the now significantly more imposing ice throne room.
"The immediate threat of the Ice Wyrm is gone," Ainz began. "Vassalheim is being refortified to a standard that even Nazarick would find… acceptable for an outpost." He gave Albedo a pointed look, who merely smiled serenely. "Cocytus, with the Horn of the Boreas Vind and your new elemental servitors, this fortress is secure for the foreseeable future. Aura, your ongoing reconnaissance of the far north, particularly regarding these 'ice deities' and the source of that Niflheim-like cold you initially sensed, remains critical."
Aura nodded eagerly. "Yes, Ainz-sama! I'll find out what those ice gods are up to! And Frost-Pelt is recovering well; he'll be a great asset for deep scouting once he's fully mended!"
Ainz then addressed them all. "However, Albedo, Sebas, and I must return to Greywater Keep. The political situation in the Riverlands is delicate. The Blackfish's scrutiny is a constant pressure, and Ser Desmond's reports… well, I dread to imagine their content by now. We also have the matter of Mare's subterranean construction and Entoma's continued surveillance."
He used [Message] to contact Entoma at Greywater. Her chirping reply, relayed with its usual insectile cadence, was mostly routine: Greywater stable, Mare's work progressing well, Ser Desmond increasingly agitated by their prolonged absence and sending more frequent, almost frantic, ravens to Riverrun. But then, she added a new, crucial piece of intelligence.
"Lord Ainz," her voice echoed in his mind, "my deepest apologies for this delayed report, as the information was only just confirmed by my furthest scouts. For the past three days, small, well-armed patrols have been sighted moving with extreme discretion along the northern borders of traditional Tully lands, near the area designated as House Hollow's northernmost (and largely fictitious) claims. They do not fly Tully banners. Their surcoats bear the silver falcon on a sky-blue field. House Arryn of the Vale. My scouts overheard them questioning isolated woodsmen and trappers about 'unusual magical phenomena,' 'reports of powerful sorcery emanating from the south,' and specifically, any news of a 'newly risen minor lord with potent, otherworldly allies.'"
Ainz relayed this information to his Guardians in Vassalheim. Albedo's eyes narrowed. "House Arryn? The Vale? Their lands border the Mountains of the Moon, towards which one of your ley lines pointed, Ainz-sama. And Jon Arryn is Hand of the King. If they are taking an interest, it means rumors of our activities are reaching King's Landing itself."
Sebas nodded gravely. "Indeed. The Vale is notoriously isolationist. For them to send armed scouts into the Riverlands, however discreetly, suggests a matter of grave concern to their Lord or the Hand."
This new development added a fresh layer of urgency to Ainz's planned return. The web of Westerosi politics was proving to be far more intricate and reactive than he had initially anticipated. Their actions, even those as far north as the Glacial Moors, were clearly having unforeseen ripple effects.
"Our departure for Greywater is now immediate," Ainz declared, his voice firm. "Albedo, Sebas, prepare yourselves. Cocytus, Aura, the North is your charge. Secure Vassalheim. Understand the full capabilities of the Horn of Winter's Heart. Aura, find the source of these ice deities, and exercise extreme caution. We cannot afford another direct confrontation of the Wyrm's magnitude without full preparation and understanding."
His gaze hardened. "The falcons of the Vale are circling. We must return to our… modest southern roost… before they decide to swoop."
As they made their final preparations to leave Vassalheim, leaving Cocytus and Aura to their northern vigil, the Horn of Winter's Heart, which Ainz had placed on the ice throne, suddenly pulsed with a cold, blue light. The runes etched upon its surface blazed, and a silent, holographic image shimmered into existence above it. It was not a map this time, nor a vision of the past. It was a single, stark rune, glowing with an intense, frigid energy – a symbol Ainz dimly recognized from his deepest YGGDRASIL lore as a rune of challenge, or a summons, from a powerful elemental lord. It seemed the "ice deities" the Wildlings worshipped were not content to remain passive observers. The death of the Great Ice Wyrm, and the claiming of the Horn, had clearly sent a signal to them as well.
Ainz looked at the rune, then at Cocytus and Aura. "It seems your vigil in the North will be far from quiet, my friends. Be ready for anything." The game in this new world was growing deadlier, and more fascinating, by the day.