CHAPTER 6

Somewhere in the frozen north.

Steve's gaze was intense as he stared down Doran, determination clear in his eyes.

"Let's see what you've got, Doran. I'm not holding back just because you're older. And don't forget all your bragging about northern warriors, haha."

Doran chuckled, his laugh raspy and full of experience. Sometimes he wondered why Steve looked so cocky - was it because he thought he was stronger, or was it because of that puny shield on his back? Whatever the reason, the more Steve looked arrogant, the more it fueled Doran's frustration towards him.

Nonetheless, he said reluctantly,

"That's the spirit, lad. I've seen plenty of hot-blooded young ones like you in my time, and they all vanished without a trace. Let's see if you can back up your bravado when you can't hide behind that shield of yours."

"Haha, and who told you I needed a shield?" Steve responded, his beautiful eyes were filled with confidence.

Fifteen days had passed since he became a member of the tribe, and in that time, he had swiftly adapted to their customs, culture, and rules. His strength and skill helped him excel in training, small wars, and fights. Whether it was hunting animals or enemies, Steve consistently topped every field.

As time went on, his relationship with his former captor also began to mend. Eventually, old man Doran opened up to Steve, revealing the root of his hatred for the Southerners.

Soon...

The two circled each other on the frozen ground, their boots crunching the snow. Even with their shoes, the chilling cold seeped in. The trees stood silently around them, heavy with snow, observing the impending clash..

Doran struck first, his fists flying with precise speed despite his age. Steve dodged and blocked the attack with effortless skill, his movements showing years of experience.

"Still got some fire in you, Doran! Those old bones still have some strength left! But I must say, even Jara fights better than you!"

Steve's confidence was evident, yet he still held back his full strength from the start, not wanting to hurt the old man seriously.

A few days earlier, when he first joined the tribe, Chief Dorra had initially asked others to train him. However, after watching Steve brutally slicing the neck of Gendu as if it was nothing, no one dared approach him, some out of fear and others out of caution.

As a result, Dorra appointed Doran as Steve's teacher even though he was reluctant, marking the onset of Doran's darkest days.

The seasoned warrior had never experienced as many defeats as he now faced while training Steve, a humbling and challenging ordeal, so today he blatantly challenged Steve, saying he won all the fights because of his shield, and he would teach him a lesson if they were to fight without any weapon.

Doran's grin remained unchanged; he never thought he would be losing to the devil when the devil was fighting unarmed without his favorite weapon. His eyes were locked on Steve.

"I may be old, but I've still got plenty of spirit left in me. Let's see how you handle the heat. Don't cry when I break your teeth! Just so you know, no one has ever defeated me in hand-to-hand combat... Ha!"

Boom!

He launched a series of rapid strikes targeting his handsome face that kept Steve on his toes.

Steve expertly parried each blow, countering with jabs to Doran's body, but he couldn't shake a nagging sense of being wronged for some reason.

"Damn you, old man! Are you jealous of me? Why the hell are you targeting my face? Take this!"

BOOM!

Steve launched a quick combination, testing Doran's defenses. His strikes were precise and swift, sometimes ducking low to dodge Doran's punches and kicks. While Steve moved with agility, his defense was flawless; Doran had yet to land a hit on him, though the same couldn't be said for his opponent, who bore the brunt of Steve's attacks..

Finally, the old man managed to land a solid punch to Steve's shoulder, causing the young boy to stagger back momentarily. But it wasn't something that could stop him.

"Don't get cocky, Steve! Experience has its own advantages, and you still have a lot to learn. And don't think you're made of steel, - your shield won't be able to defend you every time. You gotta, need to know how it feels to get punched in the face... hahaha! Now stop dodging! Coward"

Steve winced but recovered quickly, his determination only intensifying. He knew Doran was getting more serious with each passing minute and decided to match his level of intensity.

"WE'RE NOT DONE, OLD MAN! I THINK IT'S TIME TO PUT YOU IN YOUR PLACE!"

He charged at Doran with renewed ferocity, landing a series of strong blows. Soon, Doran spat out blood.

In response, Doran only laughed grinningly,

"Hahahaha hahahaha!"

The sparring match continued, the old man's experience balancing against the young boy's speed and agility. Doran's attacks were calculated, probing Steve's abilities and resilience. In response, Steve used his agility and sharp reflexes to keep the seasoned warrior in check.

As the fight progressed, Doran's age began to show. His movements slowed slightly, while Steve's youth, stamina, and monstrous strength allowed him to maintain a swift pace. Steve pressed his advantage, and soon the old man grew haggard.

Steve couldn't deny that sparring with Doran was always a treat. From swordsmanship to spear fighting and even the basic use of a shield, the old man knew almost everything. The only challenge was that Steve wasn't a normal human.

With one final, powerful strike, Steve sent Doran stumbling back. The old man caught his breath, his expression a mix of frustration and reluctant respect.

"Not bad, not bad," Doran conceded, his breath heavy. "You've got potential, Steve. But don't let it go to your head. There's still much for you to learn. Remember what I told you, this world is full of wonders."

"Alright, I got that, but how many nights do you think it's gonna take?" Steve asked with an annoyed expression, though he agreed with the old man's words. He then slumped down beside Doran, retrieving a pouch of water. After taking a drink, he offered some to the old man.

"Not far off, I suppose. Three more nights," Doran said while taking a sip.

Looking at the calm sky above, Steve remembered the day he joined the tribe and learned they were in the northern part of a realm known as Westeros. The tribe resided at least thirty thousand miles away from the Wall. Though Steve didn't fully understand the Wall's significance, he sensed that the tribe was not welcomed beyond it due to outsiders' biases and the wildlings' own questionable behavior toward others.

Even though the CACOON tribe was not nomadic and had never invaded or attacked the people outside the Wall, they were still viewed as barbarians by Southerners. The thought of a land without snow initially excited Steve, but that excitement quickly faded when he realized he might be chased or even killed if he crossed the line.

During those early days, Steve faced a number of challenges. He had to build his own wooden house, hunt for his own food, and contribute to the tribe. However, his time with the tribe also brought moments of awe. He encountered a tribesman named Trident, who could control animals with his unique power.

Steve had watched in amazement as Trident's eyes rolled back and turned gray while he wielded his ability. He directed a wolf to fuck a cow, a shocking and bizarre sight that left Steve eager to explore the wonders of the world he had become a part of.

The tribe also believed that Steve might be an apostle of the old gods due to his extraordinary strength. This made him a figure of both fear and awe within the tribe. Steve's abilities surpassed anything the tribe members had ever seen in a human, earning their respect and pride in having him among them. Everything seemed to be going smoothly until Doran mentioned the dragon tamers.

__ __ __

After their intense sparring match, Steve and Doran returned to the temporary hideout they had created from tree branches, settling in for the evening.

As they began to prepare their meal, a snow wolf suddenly emerged, attacking them from the shadows and lunging at them. But Doran reacted quickly with lightning speed, drawing his sword and cleaving the wolf's flesh apart in two, his blade running red with filthy blood.

The lifeless body of the wolf lay on the frozen ground, blood pooling around it.

Steve watched in amazement as Doran skillfully defeated the beast. The old warrior's swordsmanship was remarkable, and Steve knew that learning from him would be incredibly valuable in such a dangerous area. Doran's expertise with the sword had saved them from the fierce attack.

Steve knew well the benefit of using his shield, but he also understood that relying on it too much could become a drawback, especially when facing multiple enemies. He decided to learn swordsmanship from Doran when they returned to camp, hoping to improve his combat skills and enhance his chances of survival in future battles.

After the threat was dealt with, they moved past the unsettling scene and focused on cooking their meal over a small fire. Steve skewered the meat from their earlier hunt, while Doran expertly seasoned it with herbs he had gathered. It was the day when Steve had eaten wolf meat for the first time.

Steve and Doran continued their travel as the days passed, falling into a routine of hunting, sparring, sleeping, and traveling. On the third afternoon, they encountered a group of cannibalistic nomads who threatened their lives. Surprisingly, Steve decided to face them without his shield, engaging them head-on. Though it wasn't easy, Steve emerged victorious, killing all the nomads.

However, Doran watched in silence as Steve revealed a darker, more ruthless side of himself that he hadn't seen before. With his bare hands, Steve plucked the hearts out of the nomads' bodies and taunted them by feeding them their own flesh, shouting,

"Eat well, you fuckers. Don't you like human flesh?"

It was a shocking display that left Doran uncertain of what to say.

Soon it was over...

Steve, appearing weary, asked Doran with curiosity,

"Old man, were you lying about that?"

Doran smiled slightly, his pride evident as he collected loot from the fallen adversaries.

"What do you take me for? We're barely a mile away from Fourmountain, and aren't you getting restless? Or is it that you can't wait to see it?"

Fourmountain was a location to the east, roughly 30 miles from their settlement. Normally, it took three to four days to reach the area, but the journey had been delayed due to the various challenges they faced along the way. This region was known for its neutrality; no one claimed dominion over it, allowing it to remain wild and untouched.

"Alright, let's pick up some pace. The tribal chief only gave me 10 days for this journey. I don't know how he'll react if I'm late," Steve mused.

"Damn... who gives a fuck about that fat pig? Let me collect my materials first," Doran said, focused on his task.

"When did it become yours? I was the one who killed them all."

"Huh...a kid like you won't be able to handle this much."

"Then...keep it for now. I'll take all your belongings once you die, old man."

"How come I don't know I was raising a white-eyed wolf."

"I was already raised by my parents"

Steve joined in to help, and soon enough, they resumed their journey. Hours passed, and it was evening once more. Doran appeared tired, while Steve carried a peculiar smile on his face.

As they approached, they saw mountains shrouded in a lush forest. Under ordinary circumstances, this view wouldn't appear unusual, but seeing a vibrant, green forest in the middle of the frozen north was enough to make one question..

"Are we close?" Steve inquired.

"Pretty much. Soon you'll see it with your own eyes, and I hope you won't be frightened."

"Do you think I'm a kid?"

"Yes."

And soon, they crossed the edge of the forest and emerged from a tunnel-like area. Steve's mouth hung open in awe at the spectacle before him. He was filled with amazement at what he was seeing.

"Wohh... so you weren't lying in the end," Steve marveled.

Before them lay a colossal dragon skeleton, lying on the ground and surrounded by four mountains. The sheer size of the creature was astounding; its head was only slightly smaller than the mountains around it. Green trees and branches had grown around its skeletal structure, while the empty eye sockets allowed the red glow of the evening sun to pass through, giving it an ominous yet wonderful appearance.

"STEVE...."

Doran broke the silence as they both stared at the colossal dragon skeleton nestled in the middle of the Fourmountain, its vast form stretching across the ground and enveloped by the surrounding mountains. The trees surrounding them bore signs of the past, with old carvings and burnt sections. But greenery was still evident.

"When I was a kid, I first came here with my father," Doran began, his gaze distant as he stared at the skeleton. "At the time, I had dreams of finding a real dragon for myself, riding it while holding my future wife in my arms, flying above the clouds."

He chuckled quietly, lost in his memories.

Steve glanced at Doran with a bemused expression, his brows furrowed.

"So you were a pervert even as a kid, huh? Not to mention you're still a single old man."

"You know that's not the case," Doran replied calmly.

"Tsk..whatever...everyone in the camp said the dragon died because of exhaustion or being tired. I don't think that's possible; even I barely feel tired, let alone this beast," Steve said.

Doran snapped back to the present, the memories of the past still clear in his mind.

"Haha...The dragon exhausted, hell, that's just banter. When the dragon rider appeared with this red beast, he aimed to thaw the North, to rid it of the everlasting winter. The dragon's fire wreaked havoc on the people here, burning them alive and scorching the land. People say he was in search of something, but he failed."

Steve's skepticism was visible on his face as he interrupted the Oldman.

"Was he foolish? You can't just wish the snow away. No matter how strong the dragon was, it seems impossible to do that."

Doran pointed to the vibrant, thriving soil and the greenery surrounding them.

"Do you not see these trees, this warm land? There's no snow here, yet this place is still surrounded by the frozen North. The impact of the dragon's breath on this land still persists even now. Some things are beyond human comprehension, Steve. If it were not for the invaders, those First Men, maybe we would have died long ago. Thanks to their invasion, the Children of the Forest had already created the weapon that could kill any living being."

Steve's mind raced with questions, looking around the area with interest.

"Then?...How did the dragon die? What about the rider? Was he also a Targaryen king like the chief mentioned? And aren't all of us descendants of the First Men?"

Doran leaned in, annoyed, he contemplating the questions.

"We are not descendants of the First Men. We arrived long before them, from a far away land called Sothoryos. Our bond with the Children of the Forest was strong at that time, and together, we had fought to protect this land from the invaders." He sighed, his gaze falling on the dragon's remains.

"As for how the dragon died, like I said, it fell to the weapon of death, called white walkers, as for how only old god knows. But the rider's fate remains a mystery. Some say he died with dragon, and a few claim that he must have escaped as he was also a sorcerer. As for the Targaryens, their last dragon died until recently, though still a hundred years ago. At that time, they most likely didn't know how to control dragons, let alone attack others. That's why those in the North know they were not the first to ride the dragon."

Steve slumped to the ground, his thoughts swirling like the cold winds around them. He admired the creepy grandeur of the scene : the massive skeleton, the green life thriving amidst the cold.

"Sigh....I understand now. This world is really vast and full of wonders. I hope one day I can also become as strong as that dragon," Steve declared with a long sigh.

Doran watched him with curiosity and respect. He had seen Steve's strength firsthand and had already come to see the boy as a monster. Now that Steve aimed to become stronger than a dragon, Doran found it amusing.

Doran asked with a teasing smile.

"Why? Do you want to grow tails and scales on you, young lad?"

Steve's lips curled into a determined and warm smile as he looked at the old man and replied,

"So one day, I'm gonna melt every last snowflake from this world because I fucking hate the cold."

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[ Chapter Size -2898 Words ]

[ A/N :- I had many things to write, but I held back to avoid making the chapter too boring. I hope you found it at least tolerable, if not enjoyable. Bye for now! See you next week! ]

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