New threat- Wolves!
Lyra watched, curiosity gnawing at her. Shimo Frost, a riddle carved from ice, enticed her with his quiet power and veiled past. "Have you ever ventured beyond these frozen walls?" she asked, her voice tentative.
Shimo, continuing to work on extracting something from the giant's head, shook his head in response. "No," his head shaking slightly. "I've never ventured beyond these frozen lands," he replied. "I was not strong enough to protect myself from other dangers that may lurk beyond this realm."
Lyra could sense a hint of sadness in Shimo's voice as he spoke of his limitations. His incredible potential that he possessed with his ice powers, she knew, was a diamond yet to be polished.
"Join the Ice Tower," she pleaded, her voice filled with conviction. "Your abilities, Shimo, could be an invaluable force for good."
The ice demon considered her offer, his face a canvas of conflicting emotions. The warmth of her invitation battled with the icy tendrils of his solitude. Then, with a resolute shake of his head, he returned to his task.
He appreciated her offer, but he knew that his place was here in the frozen tundra.
His frost blade carved deeper, and from the giant's brain, he extracted a pulsating green crystal, three times the size of a man's fist. Its surface shimmered with a light, pulsing with the essence of frozen icy power.
As he held the crystal in his hands, Shimo felt a surge of power emanating from it. He knew that this crystal was valuable and could potentially unlock even more of his ice powers.
The ice crackling around it as if trying to contain its raw energy. In his eyes, a spark flickered. This, not the Ice Tower, was his path.
He met Lyra's gaze, his voice echoing like the cracking of ice. "Thank you for your offer," he said, "but my journey lies here, amongst these frozen, unvisited lands. Perhaps, one day, I will be strong enough to face the dangers beyond, and on that day, I will remember your invitation."
'My path is here in this icy realm, increasing my abilities, to fight the mysterious being one day who took away my everything'
Lyra, understanding etched on her face, nodded.
Shimo Frost, the Ice Demon, stood before Lyra, a glacier sculpted into human form. His long, light blue hair, spun from frozen moonlight, cascaded down his broad back, a shimmering cape in the starkness of the barren land.
His eyes were a captivating shade of blue, fully encompassing the color of the frozen world around them. White pupils shone within his irises, drawing Lyra's gaze deep into their icy depths.
Perched on his head, two small white horns pointed upwards, adding a fearsome touch to his already striking features. Despite their size, they seemed to radiate power, an indication of his strength and skill with ice magic.
Hidden beneath his fur-trimmed cloak, two small icy wings lay slumbering, their magic pulsing like a frozen heartbeat, invisible to the naked eye. Lyra couldn't sense their presence.
His physique, honed by the relentless fighting and training, stood proudly against the desolate horizon. Broad shoulders, etched with the strength of frozen rivers, carried his sculpted form with effortless grace. Pale white skin, stark against the icy landscape, seemed to glow with an inner frostfire, a stark contrast to the sapphire shadows etched beneath his eyes. He exuded a sense of power and confidence that Lyra found both mesmerizing and terrifying.
Lyra couldn't help but be impressed by his skills and the determination that he had shown. She felt drawn to him, to the strength and power. Yet she could sense that he was a solitary creature, one who preferred to live alone and isolated. As she watched him walk away, she knew that there was much more to the ice demon Shimo Frost than she had yet to discover.
He didn't tell her about his past or about his revenge.
Lyra proposed that once she has fully healed and recovered, she will go to the ice tower. In the meantime, she suggested that they should go to Shimo's camp. Shimo agreed to the suggestion, that she should recover there before proceeding to the tower.
As they trekked through the ice, Shimo and Lyra kept a watchful eye out for any potential dangers, their footsteps crunching on the snow-covered ground.
As they neared Shimo's camp, a tremor of unease coursed through the air, a snarl tearing through the frozen peace.
Shimo's eyes widened as he recognized the distinctive howl of cryo wolves, a breed of wolves that were known for their powerful jaws and icy breath. He summoned his ice sword, and Lyra, her hand already crackling with icy energy, readied her defenses, their backs pressed together against the encroaching pack.
Their fur frosted silver, materialized from the swirling mists, the wolves charged at them.
Lyra hurled an ice ball, a projectile but the agile beasts danced around it, their movements fluid and predatory.
Shimo, with a flick of his wrist, erected a shimmering wall of ice, protecting them from the wolves' icy breath. The air crackled with the clash of frost against frost as they fought back to back, a whirlwind of ice against a tempest of fangs.
Shimo's sword, a glacier given form, sang a song of frozen steel as he danced through the pack, each stroke leaving a flurry of icy shards in its wake. Lyra unleashed storms of freezing wind, sending the wolves sprawling across the ground, creating distance between Shimo and them.
But the pack, driven by hunger, pressed on, their yelps echoing across the desolate expanse.
Exhaustion gnawed at their bones, a grim echo of the epic struggle against the Frost Giant. With muscles screaming in protest and wounds and blood blooming like icy roses on their skin, they now faced a new threat – a pack of cryo wolves, their eyes burning with predatory gleam.
"Will these wolves really be able to subdue the frostwalker?" A man covered in robes asked another one standing beside him.