The whispers had started in Frostholme’s fetid alleys and snow-choked inns. They spread along frozen trade routes, carried by desperate refugees and wide-eyed peddlers.
And the rumors were insane.
The Bastard Stormcrow reclaimed Fort Abercrombie and shattered a whole Skarl warband led by the fearsome Grakk'Thor. Then, he built walls of ice in a single breath, and promised every man shelter, food, and work should they arrive.
For those trudging through the howling white wasteland northwest of Frostholme, a single fire burned in their heart: they must go see for themselves.
Hilda clutched her youngest, tighter against her chest. Her husband stumbled beside her, dragging their meager belongings on a makeshift sled. Behind them limped a dozen others.
The procession snaked towards the rumored salvation.
One squinted through the swirling snow. “See anything?”
Hilda shook her head. The stories had to be lies. Abercrombie was a graveyard. Stormcrow was probably dead. Or worse, leading them all into a Skarl ambush. But where else was there to go? Frostholme was a slow death sentence. Starvation or freezing took you just the same, only slower.
Then, the wind shifted, tearing a veil of snow aside.
A collective gasp ripped through the group, sharp as broken ice. People stopped dead, staring. Hilda’s breath hitched.
Fort Abercrombie stood before them, but not as they remembered.
Gone was the shattered main gate, replaced by a towering archway of luminous blue ice. Beyond it, sections of the crumbling outer wall had been restored, not with quarried stone, but with similar ice blocks, rising high and straight where jagged gaps had been.
“Mother… of… Frost,” Arn breathed, rubbing his eyes with a knuckle. “Is… is it real?”
Hilda couldn’t speak.
Her mind screamed illusion, fever dream, Skarl trickery. But the sheer, impossible solidity of it, the way the light refracted through the blue walls, the cold radiating even from this distance… it felt terrifyingly real. Birgit reached a tiny, mittened hand towards the glowing ice gates, cooing softly.
“Ice,” muttered Old Man Gerrick. He’d been a stonemason. “Built like… like it grew there. Not stacked. Not carved. Grew.” He shook his head, a lifetime of understanding shattered. “It ain’t natural. It… it can’t be.”
“The stories…” whispered a young widow clutching her toddler. Her eyes were wide. “They said he… he made it. Stormcrow. Touched by the Frost Mother.”
Her gaze darted to the imposing ice gate, then to the Talons patrolling atop the shimmering walls – real men, clad in steel and furs, moving with disciplined purpose.
“It’s real. Shelter. It’s real.”
———
Inside the fortress, separated from the awe-struck refugees by the immense ice gate and a hundred yards of packed snow, the architect of miracles was ignoring everything else.
The evidence of Eirik's obsession lay scattered around him:
Three discarded shortbows with snapped limbs, their strings frayed from overuse. Bundles of arrows—some salvaged from the Skarl stores, others hastily fletched by anyone with steady hands—littered the frozen ground.
Thousands of them.
The burlap target sack was so thoroughly punctured it had been replaced four times, the shredded remnants piled like corpses against the wall.
He'd been at this for hours straight, sleeping in fitful one-hour bursts before returning to the grind. The Mana Fragment gains had started strong—ten per perfect shot when he'd begun, dropping to five, then three, then a miserly one as the system recognized the repetitive pattern.
One thousand and five hundred fragments had come relatively quickly. The last three hundred and thirty-three was pure, grinding torture.
One arrow. One fragment.
His hands were raw meat inside his gloves, his shoulder screaming, his vision blurring from the hypnotic rhythm of draw-aim-release-thwack.
But he was close now.
So close.
Eirik Stormcrow nocked another crude arrow, and released. The arrow flew with a soft whirr at a straw-stuffed burlap sack lashed to a post thirty paces away.
It hit dead center with a dull thump.
[ARCHERY EXPERIENCE +1]
[MANA FRAGMENT +1]
[PROGRESS TOWARDS NEXT ARCHERY LEVEL: 1837/2000 (D → C-)]
[MANA FRAGMENTS: 4987/5000]
Thirteen more.
He shut out the distant shouts, the clatter of work, the constant, low thrum of anxiety radiating from the crowded fortress.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Only the target, the bow, and the relentless countdown in his mind mattered.
Thump.
[ARCHERY EXPERIENCE +1]
[MANA FRAGMENT +1]
[MANA FRAGMENTS: 4988/5000]
Twelve.
He needed the Level Up. Badly. Level 1 construction was barely enough. He needed sturdier structures. He needed the Resource Absorption ability unlocked at Level 2 so he wouldn't have to do this anymore.
Thwack. Thump.
[MANA FRAGMENTS: 4989/5000]
Eleven.
He saw the approaching figure out of the corner of his eye – Leif, his face etched with exhaustion and frustration. Eirik ignored him, drawing another arrow. Leif stopped at the edge of the ruined wall, respecting the unspoken barrier.
“Commander,” Leif began, his voice tight. “The prisoners—”
Thwack. Thump.
[MANA FRAGMENTS: 4990/5000]
Ten.
“—are getting restless. The cold in the communal shelter is fierce. The ice walls hold the wind, but… Commander, it’s freezing inside! They’re huddled together like pups, and we’re burning through the last of the scavenged firewood faster than snow melts in a forge. Fisk says his workshop stays warm, but the shelters… they need constant fires, and we’ve barely got enough wood left for two more days.”
Thwack. Thump.
[MANA FRAGMENTS: 4991/5000]
Nine.
Leif paused, waiting for a response that didn’t come. “And the food, Commander. Yorick did the count. Even with strict rationing… we have maybe five days’ worth of hardtack and salted meat for everyone. Less, if we feed the prisoners more than starvation rations. Hunting parties bring back next to nothing. The land’s picked clean by the Skarls or frozen solid.” He sounded desperate. “People are hungry now. The civilians we brought… they’re weak.”
Thwack. Thump.
[MANA FRAGMENTS: 4992/5000]
Eight.
Eirik lowered the bow, finally turning his head. “Noted,” he said, his voice rough. “Everything waits.”
Leif’s jaw clenched. “Everything? Commander, people are freezing. They’re hungry. They need—”
“Their needs would be met once I finished doing this,” Eirik interrupted, his tone leaving no room for debate. “Deal with it. Conserve the wood. Tighten rations further. Tell the prisoners if they cause trouble, they lose fire privileges. Tell the Talons the same.” He turned back to the target, nocking another arrow. “Go.”
Leif stood frozen for a moment, then turned and strode away.
Thwack. Thump.
[MANA FRAGMENTS: 4993/5000]
Seven.
No sooner had Leif disappeared around a pile of ice-reinforced rubble than Olaf’s massive frame loomed into view. He stomped towards the archery range. He stopped where Leif had, folding his arms over his broad chest.
“Commander,” Olaf boomed, dispensing with Leif’s attempt at subtlety. “Them Skarl whelps. Mostly women and brats, true. But they’re simmering. Bored. Scared. That ‘let ’em rot and hope they swear loyalty’ plan? It’s making ’em mean, not meek. They stole tools from the repair crew this morning. Shoved young Davin when he tried to stop ’em. Won’t be long before they try something stupider. Need to crack some skulls or put ’em to real work. Hard work. Break their spirit proper.”
Thwack. Thump.
[MANA FRAGMENTS: 4994/5000]
Six.
Eirik didn’t turn. “Not now, Olaf.”
Olaf scowled, shifting his weight. “Not now? Boss, they’re a spark in a hayloft! One idiot gets brave with a stolen knife—”
Thwack. Thump.
[MANA FRAGMENTS: 4995/5000]
Five.
“Double the guard on them,” Eirik ordered. “Make an example if you have to. But do not start a fight we can’t afford right now. We need their numbers later.” His gaze remained fixed on the target sack.
Olaf grunted, unsatisfied but recognizing the finality. “Fine. Double guard. Rations cut. But if they push…”
“Then push back. Hard. But only if they push first. Go.”
Olaf muttered something under his breath, but he lumbered off.
Thwack. Thump.
[MANA FRAGMENTS: 4996/5000]
Four.
The lull was brief. This time it was Yorick, looking harried, clutching his ledger like a shield. He approached timidly, flinching slightly as Eirik drew another arrow.
“C-Commander?” Yorick stammered. “Apologies, sir. Urgent matter. The… the refugees. They’ve arrived. More than we expected. Two hundred and thirty souls. They’re gathered outside the gate. What… what are your orders? Do we admit them? We barely have food and shelter for those we have! Where do we put them? How do we feed them?”
Thwack. Thump.
[MANA FRAGMENTS: 4997/5000]
Three.
“Admit them,” Eirik said, the command automatic. Population was a requirement. More bodies meant a higher percentage towards the 1000 needed.
“Search them. Then put them in the largest shelter. Tell them food is scarce. Rations start immediately. They work or they freeze. Leif and Olaf will assign tasks.” He drew again.
Thwack. Thump.
[MANA FRAGMENTS: 4998/5000]
Two.
Yorick gaped. “But… Commander… the space! The cold! The food—”
“Everything waits,” Eirik snarled. “Tell them. Tell everyone. Shelter is granted. Survival is offered. But comfort? Warmth? Full bellies? That comes after. After I finish this. Understood?”
“Y-yes, Commander! Understood!” Yorick almost tripped over as he also turned to leave.
Thwack.
Eirik nocked his final arrow. One more. Just one more. He drew the bowstring, the creak of the wood loud in the sudden quiet of his little ruin. He saw the ragged burlap sack. He saw the Kingdom Core counter hovering at 4999.
He released.
Thwack-Thump.
The arrow struck true, dead center beside its siblings.
[MANA FRAGMENTS +1]
[MANA FRAGMENTS: 5000/5000]
[KINGDOM CORE - LEVEL UP AVAILABLE!]
Eirik lowered the bow slowly.
Finally.
[UPGRADING KINGDOM CORE TO LEVEL 2]
[…]
[UPGRADE COMPLETE!]
[KINGDOM CORE LEVEL: 2]
[Level 3 Requirements: (0/10,000) Mana Fragments]
[Area of Influence: 2 Mile Radius]
[New Function Unlocked: Resource Absorption]
[Resource Absorption: Allows the Kingdom Core to draw in and store basic physical resources (Stone, Wood, Common Metals) found within the Area of Influence, converting them directly into Mana Fragments. Requires physical proximity to resource deposits. Conversion rate dependent on Core Level and resource density.]
[Construction Interface Upgraded]
[New Structures Unlocked: Ice Wall (Reinforced), Ice Barracks (Basic), Ice Granary (Basic), Ice Quarry/Mine Portal (Basic)]
[Absorbing resources grants Mana Fragments based on quantity and quality]
Eirik opened his eyes.
The world unfolded in front of him.
He could sense the deep veins of stone beneath the fortress, the stands of snow-laden pines on the nearby slopes, even scattered, half-buried veins of iron ore.
Raw materials waiting to be claimed.
He turned away from the arrow-riddled target sack, dropping the cheap bow onto the frozen ground.
Now, he thought, shifting his focus instantly to the avalanche of problems waiting for him. Now we deal with them.
