Frozen Flame of Dawn - Chapter 35

Chapter 35: Chapter 17: Blood Red Sunrise_1

Bright lines of deep red and fiery orange lit up the sky as the sun rose like an open wound on the horizon. It was an awful omen, casting an unearthly light on the world below.

The light reflected off shattered windows, broken cobblestones, and the distant trails of smoke rising from villages already caught in the storm.

But the most terrifying part wasn’t the color of the sky—it was the sound.

The sound of thousands of beasts moving as one. The far-off screams of birds that sounded more twisted and untamed than birds anymore with the rumbling thuds of paws, hooves, and claws hitting dirt, grass, and stone.

Edge of Aurelia Forest

The town of Arlen lay just outside the forest’s edge, its people unaware of the storm brewing in the woods. The soft glow of lanterns dotted the streets as people moved about, most too busy tending to the chaos caused by the earlier surge.

The townsfolk were exhausted from dealing with small fires, broken circuits, and the occasional wild animal acting out of control.

A young hunter named Ferris stood at the edge of the village, leaning on his spear. His eyes darted toward the forest, squinting into the blackness between the trees. Something wasn’t right. It was too quiet.

“Ferris, you seein’ something?” called out Darla, one of the guards patrolling the perimeter. She wiped sweat from her brow and walked up to him, lantern in hand.

“I don’t know,” Ferris muttered, his eyes narrowing. “Feels wrong. Too quiet.”

“Quiet’s a blessing tonight,” Darla said, sighing. “Don’t jinx it.”

Just as she finished her sentence, a distant roar echoed from deep within the forest. It wasn’t the sound of any animal they knew. It was louder, sharper, a sound that carried with it the weight of something far larger than it should be.

The two guards exchanged a glance.

“Tell me you didn’t hear that,” Darla whispered, her knuckles tightening around the lantern handle.

“I heard it,” Ferris said, his eyes still locked on the trees. “And I’m telling you right now, Darla—run.”

As they ran to inform everyone and get everyone to safety, a herd of rampaging boars thundered through the town gates. The old wooden barricades crumpled like matchsticks. These weren’t ordinary boars.

Each of them stood as tall as a horse, their tusks as long as swords. Their eyes glowed with a sickly green hue, and toxic mist leaked from their mouths.

“Get the guards!” someone screamed, their voice quickly drowned out by the bellowing roar of a charging boar.

A group of town guards rushed into the square, shields raised and their guns strap around shoulder, spears in hand.

“Hold steady!” the captain barked. “HOLD STEADY!”

The first boar hit like a battering ram. Three guards went down immediately, bones snapping like brittle twigs. The captain stabbed his spear into its side, and it let out a furious grunt. But instead of retreating, it thrashed, knocking him off balance. His body slammed into the side of a wagon, his helmet cracking against the wood.

Another boar charged into the center of town. Its tusks gored a villager clean through the stomach, lifting him into the air. His face was frozen in shock as blood poured from his open mouth. His body twitched once, then went still. The boar threw him aside like a sack of grain and charged the next group of villagers.

“THEY’RE IN THE TOWN!” a woman screamed as she ran for her life, carrying her child in her arms. She didn’t get far. A boar charged from the side, striking her in the ribs. She went flying, her child rolling out of her arms as she tumbled into a stall of vegetables. The child sat there, dazed and crying, surrounded by broken fruit.

One of the militia, a young man barely 19, saw the child. His breath hitched. He dropped his shield and ran for her. “I’m coming! Hold on!”

The moment he reached her, he saw the shadow of a boar looming behind him.

He turned too late.

CRACK!

The boy’s body flew backward, his spine bent at an unnatural angle before he hit the ground and didn’t move.

The child screamed, her small hands covering her ears, tears pouring down her face. But the boar had already set its eyes on her. It snorted, its breath misting with green vapor. It pawed at the ground, ready to charge.

“NOT TODAY, YOU FILTHY PIG!”

A roar erupted from behind, and Ferris the guard from before jumped from the roof of a nearby house, his spear aimed downward. The spear pierced the boar’s eye, and the beast thrashed wildly, screeching in pain. He held on, his teeth clenched, his muscles straining as he tried to drive the spear deeper.

With a final thrust, he shoved the spear through the boar’s skull. Its body went stiff. Then it crumpled.

Breathing heavily, the soldier turned, his face bruised, bloody, but alive. He picked up the child, holding her close to his chest. “Shhh… you’re okay now. You’re okay now.”

But in his heart, he knew that was a lie.

Silvermount Range – Western Border of the Federation of Glacium

“Get the children inside!” a woman screamed, her voice raw with panic.

The village was in chaos. The once-peaceful streets were now a battleground. People ran in every direction—parents dragging their children, elderly folk limping as fast as their brittle bones allowed, and guards shouting orders that no one was listening to.

The old man from before, Harlen, had hidden with some locals behind the church. His eyes darted back and forth as he looked at the edge of the forest with fear. Something big moved behind the trees and made them shake.

“Gods have mercy…” As Harlen gripped his walking stick, his fingers turned white as ice.

A moment later, the trees exploded outward. Branches snapped like bones, leaves scattered like rain, and then it came—a two-headed king tiger.

Both heads sniffed the air, their eyes glowing with an unnatural blue and red light. But As it took slow, measured steps forward, its two heads snapped and growled.

The villagers froze. They knew they couldn’t outrun it. It wasn’t something you outrun. It was something that ends you.

It moved faster than anything that size had a right to. In a single leap, it crossed the village’s main street. Its claws shredded the stone path like soft clay. One of its heads turned toward a man trying to climb a wooden fence.

NAP!

The tiger’s jaws closed around the man’s torso, teeth puncturing his ribs. His scream was short, cut off as his body went limp. Blood sprayed in a violent arc, splattering the nearby wall in a red smear. The tiger didn’t stop. It shook the man’s body like a toy, tossing him aside like trash.

“RUN!” Harlen screamed, his voice cracking as he banged his walking stick against the wall. “RUN, DAMMIT!”

A young girl stood frozen in the street, her small hands clutching a ragged doll. She watched the beast, eyes wide with terror as if her legs had forgotten how to move. Her mother screamed from a distance, “SARAH! SARAH, COME HERE!”

The girl didn’t move. The king tiger’s second head snapped in her direction, its eyes narrowing. It crouched, muscles coiling, ready to pounce.

No… Harlen thought. His heart pounded as he threw his walking stick with every ounce of strength he had. The stick spun through the air and struck the tiger’s side—not enough to hurt, but enough to make it pause.

“COME AFTER ME, YOU MONSTER!” Harlen roared, his voice hoarse but filled with raw defiance.

The tiger’s heads turned toward him. His heart stopped.

I shouldn’t have done that.

The beast snarled and pounced. Harlen tried to run, but he only got two steps before it was on him.

His scream echoed. But only for a moment.

Across the World

It wasn’t just Aurelia Forest or the Silvermount Range. The same scene played out across the world.

In the Kingdom of Valenport, the outskirts of the royal city of Greystone were hit first. Skyborn vultures with 20-foot wingspans dived from the clouds, talons sharp enough to cleave through steel. People ran, but they were snatched away into the sky, their screams lost in the wind.

In the Empire of Eryndor, villages on the border of Farhold Province were overrun in minutes. Hardened bark-skinned boars trampled stone walls as if they were paper. Reports of beasts with elemental auras surged in—ice-breathing wolves, fire-breathing birds, and shadow-stalking cats that disappeared from sight only to reappear inches from their prey.

In the frozen expanse in northern of Glacium, ice-bound bears as large as carriages moved with terrifying grace, crushing walls and devouring anything that moved. Villages were buried in the snow—not from weather, but from beasts.

While Inside the Emperor’s Private Study

Emperor Alaric III sat at a long, ornate table carved from black cedar. A map of the empire was spread before him, its edges weighted with polished obsidian stones. Tiny red markers dotted the map, symbolizing regions that were either in chaos or at risk of falling into it.

His silver eyes darted between the map and the report in his hands. His brow was furrowed, deep lines cutting into his face like cracks in stone.

The soft creak of the study door opening made him glance up. Prime Minister Elias entered with a slow, steady stride, his expression measured but not without concern.

“Your Majesty,” Elias said with a bow, his graying hair neatly combed and his robes perfectly arranged. “Prince Kaelen has departed with the Royal Guard. He should arrive at Farhold by dawn.”