The chilling certainty of his connection to the abyss beneath the shrine was shattered by a sound that wasn't silence. A low, guttural growl, thick with phlegm and malice, echoed from the treeline behind him. Then another. And another. Not the sharp challenge of a healthy wolf, but the wet, tearing rasp of corrupted lungs.
Ye Chen spun, his movements fluid but laced with the unnatural cold radiating from the jade. Emerging from the skeletal, grey-lichened trees were shapes – wolves, or what had once been wolves. Their fur was patchy, revealing skin stretched taut over bones, mottled with the same sickly greyish-black lesions that had covered the Razorback. Their eyes burned with a feverish, unnatural yellow light, devoid of reason, filled only with ravenous hunger. Strings of viscous, black-tinged saliva dripped from exposed fangs. Five of them. Six. More shadows detached themselves from the gloom.
*Drawn by the jade. Or by the shrine. Or both.* The thought flashed through Ye Chen's mind, icy and clear. The jade pulsed against his ribs, not with fear, but with a predatory *alertness*, sharpening his senses to an almost painful degree. He could smell the reek of their corrupted flesh – rot mixed with that same cloying, sweet decay and the underlying metallic tang of the frost. He could hear the wet rattle in their chests with each growl.
There was no time for strategy, only reaction. The nearest wolf, larger than the others, its hind leg dragging a trail of black ooze, launched itself with surprising speed, a blur of matted fur and snapping jaws aimed straight for his throat. Instinct screamed to dodge, but the jade's chill surged, flooding his limbs with glacial power. Instead of evasion, his right hand shot out, palm open, fingers hooked into claws. It wasn't a conscious decision; it was the jade's will channeled through his desperation.
A wave of intense cold, visible as a shimmering distortion in the air, erupted from his palm. It struck the leaping wolf mid-air. The effect was instantaneous and grotesque. The creature's snarl died in a strangled yelp. Its fur crackled, instantly rimed with thick, hoarfrost. Its momentum carried it forward, but its body stiffened unnaturally, joints locking in mid-leap. It crashed to the sour earth not two feet from Ye Chen, hitting the ground with a brittle *thud*, like frozen meat. Its yellow eyes, wide with a final surge of bestial fury, glazed over, frozen solid in their sockets. Wisps of frigid mist curled from its nostrils.
Ye Chen stared at his own hand. It felt numb, distant, coated in a faint sheen of frost that melted almost instantly in the ambient cold, leaving his skin pale and tingling. The hollow feeling inside him yawned wider, a sucking vortex where vital energy should have been. The jade had *fed* on the kill, just like with the boar, but the drain was sharper, deeper. A wave of dizziness washed over him.
The momentary paralysis of the pack broke. The death of their pack-mate didn't deter them; it enraged them. They didn't howl. They simply *attacked*, a silent, coordinated rush from multiple angles, driven by the mindless hunger amplified by the shrine's corruption and the jade's potent beacon.
Panic warred with the jade's icy focus. He couldn't freeze them all simultaneously; the drain would cripple him, maybe kill him outright. He needed a weapon. His eyes darted to a chunk of fallen masonry near the shrine's outline – a heavy, wedge-shaped piece of dark stone. He lunged for it, the jade lending unnatural speed to his desperate scramble. His fingers closed around the freezing stone just as the first snapping jaws closed on the space where his leg had been.
Heaving the stone up, he swung it in a wide, desperate arc. It connected solidly with the skull of a lunging wolf. Bone cracked with a sickening wet crunch, and the creature yelped, stumbling sideways, one eye socket a ruin of black ichor and splintered bone. But it didn't go down. It shook its head, snarling, the unnatural vitality of the corruption keeping it functional despite the grievous wound.
Another wolf darted in from the side, teeth sinking into the ragged fabric of his trousers, tearing flesh above his ankle. Pain, sharp and hot, sliced through the jade-induced cold. Ye Chen roared, more in fury than agony, and slammed the stone down onto the wolf's spine. He felt vertebrae give way. The creature spasmed, jaws releasing, but its hindquarters were limp. It dragged itself forward with its front legs, still trying to reach him, eyes burning with mindless hunger.
He was surrounded. Three more wolves closed in, wary now but relentless. The one he'd brained was circling, leaking black fluid. The crippled one writhed at his feet. The jade pulsed, demanding more cold, promising power, but the void within him screamed at the cost. He couldn't freeze them all. He needed something else. Something… focused.
His gaze fell on the heavy stone in his hand. The jade's energy felt like a frozen river within him, desperate for an outlet. *Focus it.* The thought wasn't his own; it was the jade's cold logic whispering through his desperation. He poured the glacial power *into* the stone, not outwards. It wasn't a wave; it was a concentrated stream of pure, devouring cold channeled from the jade's core, through his arm, and into the rock.
The stone didn't freeze. It *changed*. The surface instantly frosted over, then darkened. Not with frost, but with the same *black frost* that bled from the shrine's fissure. It spread rapidly, crackling like ice forming under immense pressure, covering the wedge in a crystalline, obsidian shell. The weight in his hand seemed to increase, humming with contained, frigid power. Tendrils of the black frost snaked over his knuckles where he gripped it, biting deep with a cold that burned.
He didn't hesitate. The closest wolf lunged. Ye Chen met it with a downward swing of the black-frosted stone. It struck the wolf's shoulder. There was no crack of bone this time. The impact sounded like shattering ice. Where the black-frosted stone touched corrupted flesh, the effect was horrifying. The matted fur and mottled skin didn't bruise or tear – they *shattered*. A jagged hole exploded in the wolf's flank, edges rimed with instant, spreading black frost. The corruption within seemed to crystallize and disintegrate. The creature collapsed, not just dead, but *fragmented*, chunks of frozen, blackened flesh breaking away.
The drain was immense. Ye Chen gasped, vision darkening at the edges. He felt years of his life-force bleed away into the jade, feeding the terrible power he wielded. His limbs trembled with exhaustion and cold deeper than any winter.
But the effect on the pack was immediate and profound. The unnatural yellow light in their eyes flickered, dimmed by something that might have been… *fear*? They recoiled, snarling but hesitant, circling wider. The black frost on the stone pulsed faintly, radiating an aura of absolute, life-devouring cold that even their corruption seemed to instinctively dread.
A guttural, resonant growl, deeper and more powerful than any before, rolled from the deeper shadows at the tree line. The remaining wolves instantly fell silent, cringing low, their corrupted forms trembling. A massive shape emerged. Another wolf, easily twice the size of the others, its fur entirely gone in places, revealing thick cords of muscle beneath skin that looked like hardened, blackened leather. One eye was a milky, frozen ruin, but the other burned with a concentrated, hateful yellow light, fixed not just on Ye Chen, but on the black-frosted stone in his hand. Jagged spikes of bone, slick with dark ichor, protruded from its spine and shoulders. This was the alpha. Not just corrupted, but *warped* by the shrine's power. A palpable aura of deeper cold, of the abyss itself, radiated from it, mingling with the aura of the black-frosted stone.
Ye Chen braced himself, the black-frosted stone heavy and deadly in his grip, the jade a frozen brand against his soul. He was drained, wounded, and facing the embodiment of the corruption's local power. Yet, the glacial will within the jade flared, meeting the alpha's challenge with a silent, predatory hunger of its own. The true battle, the clash between the ancient cold within him and the monstrous cold before him, was about to begin. The Shrine of Endless Frost watched, its fissure bleeding darkness, an altar awaiting its sacrifice.
The alpha's single, hate-filled eye locked onto the black-frosted stone in Ye Chen's hand. A low, seismic growl vibrated the sour earth beneath their feet. The corrupted wolves whimpered, pressing their bellies to the ground, radiating terror not just of their leader, but of the chilling aura emanating from the weapon Ye Chen had forged from desperation and the jade's frigid power.
The massive beast didn't charge. It stalked forward, each step deliberate, the bone spikes along its spine glistening wetly under the weak moonlight. The air around it shimmered with cold, distinct from the pervasive chill of the shrine – this was an active, predatory aura, thick with the scent of decay and frozen blood. Its remaining eye wasn't just yellow; it was a vortex of sickly light, swirling with the same corrupt energy that pulsed within the fissure.
Ye Chen braced himself, the black-frosted stone heavy in his numb hand. The jade throbbed against his chest, a glacial drumbeat matching the alpha's growl. The drain from freezing the first wolf and empowering the stone screamed through his body – a hollow ache in his bones, a terrifying weakness in his muscles. His ankle throbbed where teeth had torn flesh, a hot counterpoint to the pervasive cold. He could feel the unnatural vitality of the corruption trying to worm its way into the wound, a creeping numbness battling the pain. The jade's cold seemed to push it back, but the effort was another drain.
The alpha stopped, just beyond the reach of a lunge. Its milky, frozen eye seemed to *see* the jade beneath Ye Chen's tunic. Its lips peeled back, revealing fangs like shards of dirty ice. It didn't roar. It *hissed*. A sound like cracking glaciers and escaping grave-gas, carrying a wave of that concentrated, corrupt cold directly at him.
Ye Chen instinctively raised the stone. The black frost coating it flared, absorbing the brunt of the assault. The air crackled where the conflicting colds met – the shrine's ancient void versus the alpha's corrupted fury. Jagged fractures appeared in the black frost on the stone, weeping trails of freezing vapour. Ye Chen gasped, feeling the impact shudder up his arm, the jade sucking harder on his dwindling reserves to reinforce the weapon.
The alpha used the moment. Not a charge, but a blur of hardened leather and bone. It moved with terrifying speed for its size, not towards Ye Chen directly, but *past* him, aiming a bone-spiked shoulder at his wounded leg. A crippling blow, designed to bring him down without engaging the deadly stone directly.
Ye Chen twisted, the jade lending a burst of unnatural speed fueled by pure survival instinct. The jagged spike grazed his thigh instead of shattering his knee, tearing cloth and flesh. Agony lanced through him, momentarily eclipsing the hollow cold. He stumbled, swinging the stone in a clumsy, backhanded arc.
It connected with the alpha's flank, but glancingly, scraping along the hardened black leather hide. The black frost crackled, etching a smoking, sizzling line across the corruption, but failing to shatter it. The sheer mass of the beast knocked Ye Chen sideways. He hit the sour ground hard, the impact driving the air from his lungs. The black-frosted stone flew from his grasp, skittering across the brittle earth towards the fissure.
The alpha whirled, its good eye blazing with triumph. It loomed over him, dripping black saliva onto his chest, the reek of its corruption overwhelming. Its jaws opened wide, impossibly wide, aiming to engulf his head and shoulders. The jade pulsed frantically, a trapped bird of ice beating against his ribs, demanding action, demanding *payment*.
*No weapon. No strength. Only the cold.*
Despair warred with the jade's insistent, predatory will. He couldn't freeze it; the drain would kill him before the frost took hold. He couldn't run. He had nothing left but the void within him and the artifact fused to his soul.
As the jaws descended, shadowing the weak moonlight, Ye Chen did the only thing left. He didn't push the cold *out*. He pulled it *in*. He focused every shred of his terror, his rage, his will to survive, and *invited* the jade's glacial power to flood him completely. Not as a weapon, but as a *shield*. A final, desperate gambit.
The jade responded instantly, hungrily. A wave of absolute zero exploded *inwards* from the stone, not radiating outwards. It tore through Ye Chen's veins, crystallizing his blood, frosting his lungs, locking his muscles in a rictus of agony. His vision whited out, filled with jagged, crystalline fractals of pain and cold. He felt his very life-force being violently siphoned, poured into the jade's insatiable core to fuel this ultimate defense.
The alpha's jaws snapped shut… on *nothing*.
Where Ye Chen's head and shoulders had been, there was now a pulsating, swirling vortex of absolute cold. Not mist, but a localized tear in reality, a miniature blizzard contained within an arm's length. It shimmered with the same corpse-pale light as the fissure, threaded with veins of the hungry black frost. The alpha's fangs shattered on contact with this impossible shield. Its muzzle, where it touched the swirling cold, instantly blackened, frosted over, then *shattered* like glass. A choked, gurgling scream of agony and disbelief tore from its ruined throat as it recoiled violently, stumbling back, shaking its head, showering the ground with fragments of frozen flesh and corrupted bone.
The vortex winked out. Ye Chen lay on the ground, utterly still. His skin was corpse-pale, covered in a fine sheen of rime that steamed slightly in the ambient chill. His breath was a faint, irregular plume of vapour. The hollow feeling inside him wasn't just a void; it was a yawning chasm. He felt brittle, ancient, like ice about to fracture. The jade pulsed slowly, heavily against his chest, sated for the moment but radiating a terrifying, satisfied stillness. It had fed deeply.
The remaining corrupted wolves, witnessing their alpha's horrific injury and the impossible defense, finally broke. Their whimpering turned to yelps of pure terror. They scrambled backwards, tripping over each other, before vanishing into the skeletal trees as if the shadows themselves had swallowed them.
Silence crashed back, heavier and more profound than before. Only the ragged, wet gasps of the wounded alpha remained. It stood swaying, one side of its face a ruin of frozen gore and exposed, blackened bone, its remaining eye wide with agony and a dawning, primal fear directed at the prone figure on the ground.
Ye Chen forced his eyes open. The world swam, colours bleached, edges blurred by frost and exhaustion. He saw the crippled alpha, saw the black-frosted stone lying near the fissure where the cold lights pulsed in slow, steady rhythm. He saw the fissure itself – and it saw him back.
The pale luminescence within the crack flared violently, erratically, as if agitated. The black frost veins on the surrounding stone writhed like dark serpents, spreading faster, deeper. A low, subsonic *thrum* vibrated up from the depths, shaking the sour earth beneath him, resonating painfully in his hollowed-out bones. It wasn't anger. It was… *recognition*. A deeper, older awareness than the alpha's hatred. It felt the jade's expenditure, felt the resonance of the power used – *its* power. It felt the connection, the conduit lying vulnerable on the ground.
The alpha, sensing this shift, this ancient attention focusing *past* it, let out a final, guttural whine of terror. It turned, its massive form unsteady, and limped desperately into the woods, abandoning its territory, abandoning its prey, fleeing the true master of this cursed place.
Ye Chen was alone. Alone with the Shrine of Endless Frost, the fissure bleeding black frost and cold light, and the icy heart beating against his own, now terrifyingly sated and profoundly, irrevocably *bound* to the ancient hunger stirring below. The jade's glacial pulse echoed the fissure's thrum. They were speaking the same language. And Ye Chen, broken and drained, was the vessel caught between them. The threshold wasn't just before him; he was lying upon it. The abyss had tasted his defiance, and its attention, vast and cold and utterly inhuman, was now fixed solely on him.