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Chapter Text

I built a great empire out of lifeless erds

So shall my glory stands for thousands of eons

I raised a strong army from worthless cowards

Even dying, I'll rise and punish the felons

O the northern races, those with cold emotions

O the icy kingdoms, realms of the holy souls

I order thee to arise from eternal doles

O the northern races, those with cold emotions.

Chapter Text

It was a truly magical night. Beyond the wide bedroom window, shimmering curtains of aurora danced gently across the starry sky, painting the world in soft shades of green and blue. Inside the warm room, little Anna and Elsa played together, their laughter filling the air like tiny silver bells. Elsa’s snow magic sparkled as it shaped small, twinkling snow figures, and Anna clapped with delight at each new creation.

The fireplace glowed cheerfully, its flames crackling as they wrapped the room in a cozy golden light. The burning logs seemed to dance along with the sisters’ joy, casting playful shadows on the walls. Anna twirled in her light yellow dress, while Elsa, in her gentle blue gown, giggled beside her.

“And then the heroic knight fights the dragon…” Anna said as she lifted two little figures. “He uses his shining shield to block the fire from its mouth, and then he stabs right through its steel-hard skin with his sword. The dragon screams and falls to the ground.”

“Then he gets into the tower and rescues the princess!” Elsa grabbed another figure and said excitedly.

“Don’t be afraid, Your Highness! I’ve defeated the dragon, and I shall save you from this place!” Anna declared, bouncing the figures up and down. “Oh! You brave knight! May I thank you with a kiss?”

“Ugh!” Elsa scrunched up her face. “That’s a little too cheesy, Anna.”

“And then they all fall in love!” Anna shouted as she tossed all the figures into the air.

Suddenly, the door of the room swung open, and two figures stepped inside. A middle-aged man with blonde hair, dressed in aristocratic attire—white pants, an indigo shirt adorned with patterns along the shoulders, and glittering medallions—looked every bit like a monarch. Behind him was a young woman, wearing a lavender-purple dress with a hint of brown. Her hair was neatly tied in a bun, and she carried a softly glowing candle in her hand.

“What kind of game are you playing that looks so much fun?” the man asked.

The two children looked up, and Anna exclaimed,

“We’re playing dragon-slaying hero, Papa! The princess was taken away by the evil dragon, but the brave knight defeated it to save her. Then he became king, and the two of them lived happily ever after!”

“That sounds wonderful, Anna,” the woman giggled.

“That knight is lucky to be king,” Anna said. “And even luckier to marry a beautiful princess!”

“Someday, you two will become the rulers of Arendelle, just like me.”

Elsa looked up at her father, eyes wide with curiosity.

“Papa! What exactly do you have to do as a king?”

“Of course, you have to give orders to others!” Anna quickly interrupted, speaking before their father could answer. “And whoever speaks against us… just punish them!”

“Let me tell you the story of the ‘Emperor of Ruins.’”

“Who!” they exclaimed in surprise.

The woman approached and carried Anna to the bed.

“Just get on your bed first, and Papa will tell you.”

Elsa also climbed into the soft cotton bed, and both children sat up straight, eyes wide and holding their breath as if trying to contain the excitement inside them. The man took out a book with a black cover. On it, the title “The Emperor of Ruins” was written in modern language, and beneath the title was a drawing of a circle that looked like a crown.

“One thousand years ago, a fierce battle raged across the North, leaving the land desolate and lifeless. Forests were reduced to black piles of coal that pierced the sky, and rivers of human blood ran so freely that they filled an entire fjord. Yet amid this chaos, a king arose who ended the war and became known as ‘The King of Kings.’”

“Wow! That sounds so epic!” Anna said, eyes shining with admiration.

The man continued, his voice growing somber:

“But when the war was over, the king decided to purge all the dukes and anyone who had performed great feats before him. Even their families, and innocent civilians suspected of loyalty, fell tragically beneath his spear.”

“Why would he do that?” Elsa asked, her brow furrowed. “Why would he turn on the people he owed so much to?”

“I have no idea,” the man admitted quietly.

Then he turned the page and began reading:

“Having witnessed innocent people die unjustly at his cold-blooded hands, The Almighty grew furious. To punish the emperor and show that no one could stand against Him, He unleashed seven terrible plagues upon the empire.”

“What were those seven plagues, Papa?” Anna asked eagerly.

“The first,” the man said, “was ice turning into blood. One day, the snow atop the mountains and the glaciers ran red, and the streams became tainted with blood. There was no water to drink or use for daily life. Anyone who drank it would die instantly, so people had to rely on giant vases filled with rainwater. The emperor, thinking it was nothing serious, ignored his courtiers’ warnings about the second plague.”

The two children felt a mix of fear and curiosity as the man turned the page and began to speak:

“The second plague was a terrible epidemic. A strange disease swept across the empire, and no one knew a cure. Those who fell ill suffered internal bleeding, their skin turning pale as they slowly lost all their blood. People began pleading with the emperor to apologize to The Almighty, but he would not listen. And so the third plague appeared.”

“What was it, Papa?” Elsa asked, eyes wide with anticipation.

The man turned the page, his voice growing darker:

“The third plague was hail. Giant rocks appeared in the sky, and fire rained down, destroying buildings, trees, pastures, and anyone caught working in the fields. Yet the emperor’s heart remained hardened, and he still refused to apologize to The Almighty.”

“The plagues are getting more and more terrible, aren’t they, Elsa?” Anna whispered.

“What happened next?” Elsa asked, clutching the blanket.

“The fourth disaster was unbearable heat. The air burned with fire and smoke, making it nearly impossible to breathe. Anyone who stayed outside too long would be turned to ashes by the sun. But the emperor was stubborn, and so yet another plague fell upon the empire.”

The man turned another page, his voice tense with anticipation:

“Then came a snowstorm, sudden and fierce, that blanketed everything in white. No one could see beyond the endless snow, and anyone who stepped outside would immediately freeze to death in the biting wind. All the cattle and trees outside perished, and the people had to butcher them just to avoid starvation. Unlike before, the emperor finally had to make concessions when he saw how much the empire had suffered. He announced that he would make amends to The Almighty by offering vast treasures.”

“And what happened after that, Papa?” Anna asked, leaning forward eagerly.

“The Almighty did not accept his wealth,” the man said. “And the emperor’s heart grew cold again. Then came the sixth disaster: darkness. The entire empire was shrouded in pitch-black for a whole week. The emperor had no choice but to humble himself before The Almighty, promising to grant titles and lands to the descendants of the generals he had slain, giving them full authority over their lands. But he added a condition: each family had to leave a relative in his palace, like hostages, to ensure obedience. Of course, The Almighty did not agree—and so the seventh and final plague struck.”

“What was it, Papa?” Elsa and Anna asked, unable to contain their curiosity any longer.

The man shook his head, and the girls’ faces fell.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “The story doesn’t say. But it was described as the most terrible of all. It alone destroyed the empire, and the emperor himself perished because of it.”

“And that’s how he came to be known as the ‘Emperor of Ruins,’” the woman said, smiling at the two children.

The girls nodded thoughtfully, though their minds were still full of questions. The man turned the page and began again:

“Before he died, the emperor left behind a poem—a prophecy, some say—hinting that he would one day return to restore his lost empire. The poem reads as follows:”

"I built a great empire out of lifeless erds.

So shall my glory stand for thousands of eons.

I raised a strong army from worthless cowards.

Even dying, I'll rise and punish the felons.

O the northern races, those with cold emotions.

O the icy kingdoms, realms of the holy souls.

I order you to arise from eternal doles.

O the northern races, those with cold emotions."

After listening to the poem, Anna let out a long yawn, her eyelids drooping as sleep overtook her. The woman noticed and gently laid Anna on the mattress, tucking her in with a soft blanket.

“Time for bed, sweethearts!” the man said with a warm smile. “Sleep well!”

He kissed Anna and Elsa on the forehead, opened the door, and quietly stepped out, leaving the three of them alone in the quiet room.

“Mama,” Elsa whispered, her curiosity still burning. “Why did that emperor kill the generals who had done such great deeds?”

“I don’t know either, sweetheart,” the woman replied softly. “But your grandmother once told me that four people escaped the Emperor of Ruins’ pursuit—and Lord Aren, the founder of Arendelle as we know it today, was among them.”

“So… is there anything left of that empire, or of the Emperor of Ruins, Mama?” Elsa asked softly.

“As far as I can see, no, my dear,” the woman replied gently. “Now sleep, darling, or you’ll disturb your sister’s dreams.”

Elsa nodded reluctantly and snuggled under the warm blanket. The woman kissed both children on their foreheads and quietly slipped out of the room. Elsa lay on her back, eyes wide, thinking about her father’s story for a long time, until the magic of sleep finally carried her away beside Anna.

Chapter Text

Months had passed since the grand adventure of the two sisters in the far north came to an end. Now, their paths had taken different directions: Elsa lived close to nature, serving as the guardian of a fjord alongside the Northuldra—a mysterious tribe whose origins remained shrouded in mystery. Anna, meanwhile, had inherited the throne of Arendelle, ruling the kingdom with grace alongside her husband, Kristoff. And of course, there was Olaf—the cheerful snowman Elsa had brought to life—who continued to bring laughter and warmth to the kingdom, playing his own part in keeping Arendelle a prosperous and happy place.

It would have been nothing… until one night, when a hazy, eerie mist suddenly descended from the north and shrouded Arendelle. This was no ordinary mist; it had a Paris-green hue, as dense as clouds and barely touched by the sun—even at noon, it refused to fade. The people of Arendelle began whispering among themselves about some supernatural power, or perhaps that someone was using dark magic to curse the kingdom. Fear spread that something lurking in the north had now awakened.

But their fear didn’t last long. By the next day, the mysterious mist had vanished as if by magic. The sun shone brightly in a clear blue sky, and the kingdom was bathed in a cheerful light, as though some unseen hand had drawn the fog away overnight.

Anna, Kristoff, and Olaf strolled along the harbor. The sea sparkled a bright turquoise, and the ships bobbed gently, all untouched by the strange mist of the night before. Not a trace remained of its eerie presence or the damage it might have caused.

Anna’s hair was neatly swept into a bun at the back of her head. She wore a beige gown adorned with lavender and golden accents, a banana-green jacket, a matching lavender sash, and a pair of elegant heels. Kristoff was dressed in a thick, dark tunic with a blue patch on his right elbow, layered over a dark blue long-sleeved undershirt. His sturdy trousers and fur-lined brown boots completed the practical yet regal look of Arendelle’s protector.

“What on earth was that?” Kristoff wondered. “The mist was so thick that even sunlight couldn’t touch it… and yet, it vanished in just one night.”

“I find it just as puzzling,” Anna agreed. “No matter how many years our traders have spent at sea, we could never have predicted a mist like that. And then—” she gestured dramatically, “—it disappeared right in the middle of the night, just as suddenly as it appeared!”

“Well, at least nothing serious happened,” Kristoff said. “The ambassadors arriving in two weeks should have a perfectly smooth reception.”

“I can’t wait to show them our wonderful chocolate!” Anna exclaimed. “It’s already famous, ever since my sister’s coronation!”

“And my performance, too!” Olaf piped up. “I’ve composed fourteen songs just for the banquet! I really hope nothing delays or cancels it.”

“I can’t find a single moment when you’re not singing,” Kristoff said with a smile. “People have heard you so much, they practically know all your songs by heart.”

Suddenly, someone came running toward them, clearly in a state of panic, as if he had just witnessed something truly terrifying. He panted heavily, wiping the sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief.

“What’s wrong?” Anna asked. “Why do you look so panicked?”

The man’s eyes were wide with disbelief and fear as he looked at them.

“Your… Your Majesty…” he gasped. “All of the crew on my vessel last night… they’ve… disappeared!”

“What?!” Both Anna and Kristoff exclaimed, their eyes widening in shock, as if they had just heard the most impossible news.

The man continued, his voice urgent and trembling:

“Last night, I sent my crew to tend to the cargo on board. But this morning, when I came to check, all I could see was the vessel and the cargo itself. I called out to each of them by name… but not a single soul was there.”

“This is impossible!” Kristoff exclaimed. “How could a whole crew just vanish overnight? Did your men perhaps go ashore for a drink?”

“They wouldn’t dare, Sir,” the man replied, shaking his head. “We were scheduled to ship this cargo today, so I specifically ordered them to stay aboard—no alcohol, no leaving the vessel.”

“Did you inspect the vessel?” Anna asked. “Is there anything unusual?”

“I checked every corner—three times, Your Majesty!” he said, his voice desperate. “All I found were the cargo, the glowing lanterns, and blankets and pillows scattered about. Nothing else.”

Anna, Kristoff, and Olaf exchanged uneasy glances, sensing that something was very wrong. The man seemed to notice their doubt, and his expression hardened with resolve:

“I swear it—they were all on my vessel yesterday! If you don’t believe me, Your Majesty, I’ll lead you there myself.”

When they stepped into the crew’s cabin, their eyes widened in shock. Items lay scattered: a pillow was half tucked into its case, three blankets lay unfolded, and a glass of water sat on the table—half full, with faint water stains along its rim, proof that someone had started drinking but never finished. A lantern still glowed softly on the wall, just as the man had said. The crew’s clothes remained neatly in the closet, and there was no sign of stolen food or damaged cargo.

Venturing further, they discovered a drawer left open and a matchbox lying half ajar. Another lantern shone on the table, while yet another had its glass door open. It looked as if someone had been about to strike a match and light the lanterns.

Just as the man had said, his crew had indeed been there the night before!

“I still can’t believe this,” Kristoff muttered, picking up the glass of water. “How could something this strange even happen?”

“Maybe it has something to do with the mysterious mist from yesterday,” Olaf suggested, tilting his head thoughtfully.

“I think we need to visit Grand Pabbie,” Anna said, turning to Kristoff. “Perhaps he knows something about all of this.”

Rising to their feet, they left the ship. Anna instructed a few soldiers to follow the man and assist him in unloading the cargo upon arrival, but to keep everything strictly confidential. The man expressed his heartfelt thanks to Anna and Kristoff.

When they returned, Anna began searching the bookshelf her father had left her, hoping to find some clue about the mysterious mist. Hours passed, and Anna, Kristoff, and Olaf remained glued to the pages, hardly taking a break.

Their search seemed almost in vain—until Anna’s eyes fell upon a strange book. Kristoff and Olaf noticed its black cover, embossed with the title The Emperor of Ruins and a curious circular symbol that looked like a crown.

“What is it?” Olaf asked, his eyes wide with curiosity.

“Looks like a storybook,” Kristoff replied.

“If I’m not mistaken…” Anna said, her voice dropping to a whisper, “this is a book about an empire that existed and dominated the north over a thousand years ago. It’s said to be only a fable—there’s no proof it ever truly existed. But my father used to tell Elsa and me this story every night when he was alive.”

With trembling hands, Anna opened the cover and discovered an ancient poem. She began to read it aloud to Kristoff and Olaf:

"I built a great empire out of lifeless erds.

So shall my glory stand for thousands of eons.

I raised a strong army from worthless cowards.

Even dying, I'll rise and punish the felons.

O the northern races, those with cold emotions.

O the icy kingdoms, realms of the holy souls.

I order you arise from eternal doles.

O the northern races, those with cold emotions."

After reading, Anna closed the book and rested it on her lap.

“But what does this have to do with a whole crew suddenly disappearing?” Kristoff asked, frowning.

“I have no idea,” Anna sighed. “But… I have a strange feeling that the mist yesterday and this story are somehow connected. Anyway, we still need to visit the trolls and seek Pabbie’s help.”

With that, they stood and made their way down to the stables. Anna carried the black-covered book she had just discovered.

Outside, darkness had settled fully. The stars sparkled brilliantly in the clear night sky, and the biting cold wind nipped at their ears, turning them pink.

“I can’t wait to see them again!” Olaf said cheerfully, his smile as bright as the stars above. “It’s been a long time since we had a chance to play together.”

“Are you really in the mood for playing, Olaf, with all that’s just happened?” Kristoff asked, giving the snowman a mock scolding look.

(*) clipper: a type of merchant sailing vessel in the 19th century, designed for speed.

Chapter Text

It wasn’t very difficult for Anna, Kristoff, and Olaf to find their way to the trolls’ place after only half an hour of horse riding (Kristoff actually rode Sven) since this place had used to be the home of the tall blonde guy. Yet, it remained a mystery how Kristoff had come to live with the trolls and how he had been accepted. He never spoke about it openly; instead, he gave a different answer every time someone asked. Sometimes he said it was because his parents had passed away long ago, sometimes because he had broken up with his family. Once, Olaf even asked if Kristoff had come to the trolls’ place just to make his body less dirty.

“Why are you just pissing people off today, Olaf?” Kristoff asked, clearly irritated. “Do you really think I’m gonna throw you into those steam holes?”

“If you do that, you’ll basically make yourself Arendelle’s criminal,” Olaf joked. “Especially in Elsa’s eyes—she created me just to make Anna happy. You don’t want her freezing your entire body, do you?”

“I doubt she would. If she did, the saddest person would be our precious Queen. Besides, no sister wants to harm her younger sibling… especially when their parents were—”

“Can you two please be quiet!” Anna yelled, slamming a long stick of wood onto the hard ground.

Seeing this, the two of them immediately fell silent, held their breath, widened their eyes, and swallowed a gulp of saliva.

“It’s all your fault!” Kristoff and Olaf whispered, glaring at each other.

They came to a rock basin, a wide, shallow pit that looked carefully crafted. The bottom was made of boulders ground flat—smooth enough for someone to lie down comfortably. Stone steps lined the edge of the pit, and moss grew around the soil and in the cracks between the stones. Numerous rocks of all sizes lay beside the steam holes and on the soil surrounding the pit.

“Hello everyone!” Kristoff shouted. “It’s me! Kristoff is here!”

Instantly, the rocks shifted, rolling down together to gather around the three of them. Immediately, they transformed into creatures resembling elves, with long, pointed ears, apple-shaped noses, glittering eyes, and large feet. They had a tuft of hair on their heads and wore simple clothes made of moss-colored leaves. Their skin was hard and gray like stone.

Seeing Anna, Kristoff, Olaf, and Sven, they cheered joyfully:

“It’s Kristoff and Anna! They’re back!”

With that, they immediately danced and sang around them. Kristoff never forgot this image, because the trolls were inherently sociable and friendly—the friendliest of all the creatures living in the North. Moreover, they were also his family.

Anna, Olaf, and Sven were having fun with them when suddenly a rock rolled toward them, transforming into a troll wearing a leaf cloak and a necklace with small yellow crystals.

“Hello, Pabbie!” Kristoff said. “How have you been?”

“I’m fine!” Pabbie said with a smile as Sven licked his cheek. “Long live Queen Anna! What brings Your Majesty here?”

Just then, Anna remembered the story of the strange mist from yesterday. She told Pabbie everything. Pabbie frowned as he listened, as if he were concerned about something he hadn’t thought about for a long time, and it wasn’t as simple as he had imagined. The rest of the trolls did nothing but stand and listen intently to their story.

“That’s everything we had, Pabbie! Do you know anything about that strange mist? Please tell us.”

“That’s right, Pabbie!” Kristoff interjected. “This is obviously a very challenging problem, and we don’t have any information on how to solve it. Please tell us everything you know.”

Pabbie pondered for a while; he was immersed in vague yet somehow very specific thoughts. Suddenly, he saw the black-covered book Anna was carrying and asked to borrow it. Then he ran off somewhere. All of them looked at each other in confusion.

“Why did he suddenly run away?” Olaf asked Anna.

“I have no idea! Maybe he was going to get something for us to see.”

As soon as he finished speaking, Pabbie rolled down to them and transformed again, holding a Scheele’s green crystal in his hand. Anna, Kristoff, and Olaf stared at the crystal. It gave off a brilliant light, but also carried an eerie, unsettling aura.

"It looks so beautiful!" Olaf exclaimed.

"What is this, Pabbie?" Anna asked.

"Before I talk about the origin of this, I wanna ask you a question, Your Majesty."

Pabbie rolled his eyes and looked down at the crystal, then asked,

“Do you know about the Emperor of Ruins, Your Majesty?”

“Yes. My father told Elsa and me about the legend of the Emperor of Ruins every night when we were children. But what did he have to do with this?”

“Do you believe that he really exists?”

“He only appeared in ancient songs and epics. No trace of his presence had ever been found. And even if he did, he would be dead by now.”

Suddenly, Pabbie’s face darkened.

“Actually, he did, Your Majesty! And it was also very clear! I saw it yesterday and felt the presence of an ancient power.”

Anna, Kristoff, and Olaf were stunned by what Pabbie had just said. They seemed to have guessed what Pabbie was referring to.

“Are...” Kristoff said slowly. “Are you claiming that yesterday’s mist was the symbol of the Emperor of Ruins?”

“I didn’t have any basis to prove it. But the power flow I felt... it was no different from the one that existed one thousand years ago, when the North was a powerful empire under the Emperor of Ruins.”

“Can you tell us more, Pabbie?” asked Anna.

“I don’t know much about this. But in ancient times, when the seas hadn’t yet engulfed distant lands, the entire North was a powerful empire under the rule of the Emperor of Ruins. I didn’t remember his name, but his empire had once been a terror to the entire world.”

Anna looked at her black-covered book and tried to imagine the vision of a powerful empire that no other kingdom could match. Tall, fortified fortresses of stone and ice reflected the light of the auroras. Mighty armies, giant and terrifying creatures, and spirits full of magic and power filled the lands. Her father had once told her about the greatness of the Emperor of Ruins, and he had even said that Arendelle was nothing compared to that Emperor’s empire.

“It’s strange that such a great Emperor is called ‘of Ruins,’” Olaf said with a smile. “Isn’t that too conflicting?”

“The name ‘The Emperor of Ruins’ was only given by people later. For some unknown reason, his empire vanished very suddenly, yet no less mysteriously, and until now there hasn’t been any trace of its golden age. Some said that it was he who had made The Almighty furious, and that He had sunk his entire empire under the sea. Others said that he himself had destroyed all his glory and driven his subjects to death. Still others said that there had been a coup d’état in that empire, and that the entire North had been disintegrated into many small kingdoms that still exist today.”

Then Pabbie showed Anna, Kristoff, and Olaf the silhouettes illustrating the rumors about the fall of a powerful empire. The three looked very nervous but were not impressed by the images.

“Trolls ourselves had existed since that empire was still dominating the North, yet we had very little interaction with the Emperor of Ruins and his subjects, so I completely had no idea what had led to the disappearance of the empire. But I had a feeling that…”

Suddenly, Pabbie fell silent, much to the surprise of Anna and Kristoff.

“What are you feeling, Pabbie?” Anna asked urgently.

"There's a prophecy that was once written: 'When all five spirits awaken, the entire north will tremble, the sea and the mountains will quake, and that is the moment when the Emperor of Ruins arise. He will use his silver blade to unite the north, he will raise his arm of steel and gather people together in one, he will trample on the traitors with his iron feet, and his empire will be resurrected.'"

Anna found it to be exactly the same as what her father had said at the end of the story he had told her sisters long ago. She remembered that there were four spirits existing in the Enchanted Forest of the Northuldra people, and that the fifth spirit, her sister Elsa, was also there. All five spirits had awakened just as the prophecy had said.

“You mean…” Anna got horrified. “…the Emperor of Ruins has returned?”

Pabbie looked at the crystal and said,

“I have no idea what would happen next. But I hope my worst premonition will always remain just the way it is, and not become reality.”

“So what about this crystal?” Kristoff said. “What is it, anyway?”

“This was the crystal attached to the crown of the Emperor of Ruins. At first, I didn’t even know what it was, but when the mysterious mist appeared and enveloped Arendelle the day before, I discovered that the crystal was glowing strangely. So I searched all the relevant documents and writings, and all of them confirmed that this was the crystal on the crown of the Emperor of Ruins.”

Explaining that, Pabbie handed the crystal to Anna. She saw that it was transparent, majestic, but far too cold—like a colorful painting without a soul.

“I've told you everything I knew, Your Majesty. If you ask more, I can't answer.”

“So how should we deal with the fact that the Arendellians had suddenly disappeared, Pabbie?” Kristoff asked.

“I think it's necessary to limit ships from porting at night and not let people sail too late, because I don’t think this mist will have any effect on the people on the mainland.”

"We get it." Anna stood up and replied, "Thank you so much, Pabbie!"

Pabbie bowed and rolled away, disappeared behind a tree.

It was already dawn when Anna, Kristoff, Olaf, and Sven also said goodbye to the trolls before turning back. The trolls saw them off and even said that they hoped their companions would come here more often. Olaf spoke a few words on their behalf before disappearing around a corner.

Anna put the crystal Pabbie had given her into her pocket, it gave off a sparkle.

Chapter Text

"Elsa..."

A creepy voice muttered.

"Who's there?"

Elsa found herself in an extremely dark space, barely able to see anything around her. A feeling of loneliness wrapped around her, making her whole body feel frostbitten, just like when she was in Ahtohallan. Although she has the power to create and control ice and snow, this coldness worried her. She was supposed to be in the hut of the Northuldra, yet somehow ended up in this place.

"Elsa..." That voice appeared again.

Elsa turned around, trying to locate the source of the voice, but her efforts were in vain.

"Who's saying! Show yourself!"

Immediately, a fierce wind swept over Elsa, tossing her body around and forcing her to cover her face with her hands to keep the gusts from stinging her eyes. Suddenly, streams of jade-green air appeared before her, writhing and twisting like serpents rising from the ground. Through the swirling currents, a figure emerged. He wore a Paris-green cloak, the hood shadowing his head, and his eyes glowed red as blood. In one hand, he gripped a silver blade, its hilt etched with ancient runes, while his feet seemed forged from iron.

Elsa felt a terrible power radiating from him, unlike anything she had ever encountered. It was even greater than the combined magic of the four spirits—and of her own. Instinctively, she raised her hand, readying herself to strike.

"Who are you?"

He didn't answer.

"Show yourself!" Elsa shouted as she slowly moved closer to him.

Still only the silence in response to her question.

Elsa sent a shard of ice hurtling toward him, but to her shock, he caught it effortlessly with one hand and crushed it as if it were nothing more than a cookie. Before she could react, he stretched out his other hand, and Elsa was thrown to the ground, screaming. A dark, diabolical power coursed through her body, pinning her to the earth and leaving her unable to rise.

Then he approached Elsa, stopping directly in front of her. Now she could see his face clearly: piercing red eyes, a high, noble nose, and a beard as black as the void. One of his hands bore a ring that emitted a faint green light, matching the Paris-green of his cloak, and above his head hovered something that glowed like a crown.

"Thou movest one more time, and I'll tear thee apart." His voice was the same eerie whisper Elsa had heard before.

"Who..." Elsa tried to speak. "...really are you?"

"I am the supreme ruler of the north."

"What?"

"And I... am also the one who shepherds the tribes in this place. I shall absorb all five spirits and resurrect my subjects. I shall unite the peoples back to their fatherland. And from the ruins, I shall rebuild my immortal empire. Convey my word to the Northuldra people, the Arundils, the people of the Southern Isles, and the trolls, that it is me, who brought glory and strength to the entire of the north, has risen from the depths of the ocean."

As soon as he finished speaking, he slowly vanished before Elsa’s horrified eyes.

"Wait! Wait!" she screamed. "How do you know me…and the spirits? Who really are you?"

But it was too late. He had completely disappeared.

Suddenly, the dark power that had pinned her vanished, and just as she struggled to rise, a gaping, shadowy void yawned beneath her—and she plummeted into its endless darkness.

Elsa woke with a start, gasping as her eyes flew open in horror. She looked around and realized she was still lying in the hut of the Northuldra. It had all been a dream. She paused, forcing her racing heart to slow, and then stepped outside to breathe in the night air. The forest air was crisp and refreshing, carrying cool breezes from the Dark Sea through the trees and rustling the foliage. Elsa inhaled deeply, savoring the scent, and then lowered herself onto a rotting log. Above her, the full moon cast its pale light across the deep blue sky, and countless stars twinkled, making the forest scene feel even more magnificent. In the distance, the rock giants slept peacefully by the cliffs.

A small purple lizard, capable of creating fire, crawled over Elsa, making her giggle as it tickled her. She lifted it gently and placed it on her shoulder.

"Hi, Bruni. Can't you sleep either?" she asked.

Bruni nodded and settled comfortably on her shoulder. Elsa sensed that he, too, felt the lingering unease from her dream of that eerie figure. He rarely woke at this hour, but tonight was different. A chill of worry gnawed at her heart as she replayed the ghastly man’s words in her mind. Somehow, she felt she had known him long ago, yet she had no clue who he really was.

Suddenly, a strong gust of wind swept through the forest, and the moonlight was obscured by swirling shadows. Elsa looked around and saw a whirlwind racing toward her at impossible speed—none other than Gale, the spirit of the wind. Gale tore recklessly between the trees, making them shudder violently. A sense of dread coiled tighter in Elsa’s chest, though she had no idea why. Both Bruni and Gale were acting strangely, far beyond their usual behavior.

Suddenly, the water horse in the stream, Nokk, went wild, neighing across the forest. Elsa ran to calm it, stroking its flanks and whispering softly until it settled, but the chaos around her was overwhelming.

“Maybe I should talk to Yelana about this,” she murmured to herself.

However, she had only taken a few steps when the rock giants suddenly awoke, emitting strange cries, as if sensing some unseen threat. When she had visited them before with Anna, Kristoff, and Olaf, they had never behaved like this. Their anguished roars echoed through the forest, rousing every creature nearby.

"What's that sound?" A tribesman said. "It's quite loud."

"Are the rock giants gone crazy that they're screaming so loudly right this time?" Another said. "Can't they do that during the daytime..."

"Elsa." An old woman dressed in traditional Northuldra costume said. "What are you doing here? Did you wake up those rock giants?"

"No, Yelana! I don't know what made them the way they become like this. But there is something that woke me up, and I think I must tell you."

The old woman looked at Elsa in surprise. It was clear that Elsa expected an answer from her.

"Okay." The old woman spoke cautiously. "Hurry inside my hut, and let’s talk."

Elsa nodded, and she, along with Bruni, followed Yelana into her hut. Once inside, Elsa recounted everything from the beginning—the mysterious man from her dream and the chilling words he had spoken. The old woman listened with a serious expression, a flicker of worry crossing her face, as if she knew something about him—and it was not good.

"That's all of the story, Yelana. Do you know anything about him?"

The old woman sighed and she stood up, went to a wooden box and took out a scroll, then she turned back to Elsa and Bruni's spot.

"If what you say is true..." Yelana said as she was opening the scroll "...then perhaps the Emperor of Ruins has returned."

"Who?"

"It's prophesied that when all five spirits are earth, water, fire, wind, and the fifth spirit, which is you, awaken, the Emperor of Ruins will arise. And he will use his silver blade to unite the north, he will lift up his arm of steel and gather the people together in one, he will trample down the traitors with his iron feet, and his empire will be resurrected."

Yelana pointed to the runes on the scroll.

The power of the Emperor of Ruins was terrifying, for it was bound to his very will. Manipulating all the spirits just by himself is like a piece of cake."

Elsa’s thoughts immediately turned to her sister, Anna, who was still in Arendelle. Worry gnawed at her, and she decided she had to return to see how things were going. She wanted to leave immediately, even though the Northuldra warned her against venturing beyond the forest. With determination, she climbed onto Nokk’s back.

"I can't let my sister be in danger! I'm going there for one day, and then I'll be back here as soon as possible. Everyone please don't worry about me! Take care of the spirits here."

As soon as she finished speaking, Elsa flew south.

“So the North is about to quake again…” Yelana murmured, her eyes scanning the wind-whipped sky.

Chapter Text

Anna, Kristoff, and Olaf sat together in a bright room that had been polished to a shine in preparation for the arrival of ambassadors from distant kingdoms. They had spent a long day meeting with Arendelle’s officials, and at last they decided that the moment called for a celebration—a grand banquet, followed by a shimmering ball in the great hall where Arendelle’s throne rests.

Anna had always felt a strange uneasiness within herself, and she couldn’t stop worrying about her older sister after hearing Pabbie’s words—words that seemed to point directly to Elsa. Even though Anna had written a letter explaining her situation and sent several cavalrymen riding toward the Northuldra lands, she still wandered the palace halls, sadness and frustration swirling inside her. She had no idea how Elsa was doing—whether she was safe, whether her heart was at peace, or whether the Enchanted Forest had been touched by that ghastly mist.

“Are you okay, Anna?” Olaf asked softly as he waddled closer, his twig arms gently holding onto Anna’s bodice.

“I don’t know, Olaf! What Pabbie said has been echoing in my head all morning. What if the Emperor of Ruins really exists and wants to hurt Elsa? I thought he belonged only in stories and old legends, but now everything feels like it’s falling apart.”

“You don’t have to make yourself feel that way, Anna,” Olaf reassured her with a warm smile. “I’m sure Elsa’s fine. She has incredible powers, and she lives among the other spirits—why should we worry so much about that?”

“That’s right, Anna!” Kristoff said encouragingly. “Pabbie never said for certain that this Emperor of Ruins has returned. We don’t have a real reason to panic yet.”

“You two don’t understand that feeling at all!” Anna shot back, frustration shaking in her voice. “You’ve never had a family of your own—you never had siblings growing up. How could you possibly know what a younger sister’s instincts feel like?”

Kristoff stiffened in surprise, taken aback by the sharpness of her words.

“Hey, Anna! Sven and I might have grown up with the trolls, but they taught us how to care for one another no matter what,” he said, his tone more earnest now. “We’re not fools who throw around empty words just to make someone feel better.”

“Yeah, Yeah! So what you’re saying is that everything Pabbie told us was just a joke—something baseless?” Anna pressed, anger trembling in her voice. “Or do you mean that Pabbie—the one who helped my family when I was a child, the one who practically raised you—was just deceiving us all along?”

“That’s not what I meant, Anna…” Kristoff murmured, his voice softening, almost pleading.

When the two were still arguing, the door behind them opened. A guard went inside and said:

"Your Majesty! Queen Elsa is back!"

Anna’s eyes widened in astonishment at the soldier’s words. In an instant, joy lit up her face, and she dashed toward him.

“Elsa’s back!?” she exclaimed, barely able to contain herself. “Hurry—tell me where she is!”

“She’s in the hall, Your M—”

But Anna didn’t wait for him to finish. She was already flying down the corridors, past startled servants, picture frames, and busts—her footsteps echoing with rising excitement. She burst into the hall. There, by the window, stood Elsa. Sunlight streamed through the tall glass panes, spilling over her sister’s snow-white hair and making it shimmer like strands of silver. Elsa wore a black leather coat dusted with glitter, and pale ice-clogs adorned her feet. In that very moment, Anna could no longer hold back. She ran straight toward Elsa, her voice bursting out so loudly and so joyfully that it echoed across the entire hall:

"ELSA!" Anna delighted as if she was weeping. "You're back! I miss you so much!"

Anna wrapped her arms around Elsa in a tight embrace—so tight it was as if she feared the world might try to pull her sister away again.

“I missed you too, Anna,” Elsa murmured with a gentle smile, resting her hand on Anna’s back. “And seeing you like this… I suppose that means you’re doing well, aren’t you?”

“I’m fine,” Anna replied, though her voice trembled as tears slipped down her cheeks. “But what about you? How have you been? Are you eating well? Did the Northuldra treat you kindly? Did anything happen with the other spirits?”

"OK, OK! Anna! I'm fine."

At that moment, Kristoff and Olaf appeared beside Anna, their faces brightening at the sight of Elsa.

“Long time no see, Elsa!” Kristoff said with a warm grin, resting his hands casually on his hips.

“Hi, Elsa!” Olaf chimed in, practically bouncing with delight. “You still look as gorgeous as the day you created me! Oh—now I suddenly feel like singing a song!”

Kristoff quickly put a hand on Olaf’s shoulder before the snowman could burst into song, and the two quietly followed Anna and Elsa out of the hall. Together, they climbed the grand staircase and headed into Anna’s room.

“So… what brings you back this time, Elsa?” Anna asked, her voice filled with curiosity and worry.

Elsa gently closed the door once all four of them were inside. She let out a soft sigh, then walked toward the window, where the afternoon sunlight spilled across the floor. Her eyes wandered out toward the glittering, sun-drenched sea.

“I had a very strange dream last night,” she said quietly.

“A dream?” Olaf tilted his head, puzzled. “What kind of dream?”

Elsa turned slightly, the light catching in her white hair.

“I dreamed that someone—someone calling himself the Emperor of Ruins—attacked me.”

Suddenly, a sharp gust of wind swept in through the window, whipping the hem of Elsa’s leather coat. Anna, Kristoff, and Olaf froze, stunned by what they had just heard.

“You dreamed of the Emperor of Ruins!?” Anna gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. “What did he say to you?”

“What do you mean he attacked you?” Kristoff added, frowning in concern. “Don’t you have the power to fight back?”

So Elsa began to tell them everything—every detail of the dream. The room grew still. None of them blinked, none dared breathe too loudly, as if the very air might shatter under the weight of her revelation. It wasn’t until Elsa reached the part about the message he forced her to deliver that Kristoff felt his stomach drop. In that instant, he realized Pabbie had been right all along. The Emperor of Ruins had returned.

“According to what the Northuldra elder told me…” Elsa said softly, her expression grave, “…the Emperor of Ruins possesses a power that’s terrifying—greater even than the combined strength of all five spirits. If we’re forced to confront him… it would be nothing short of suicide.”

Anna, Kristoff, and Olaf sat in stunned silence, still trying to process everything Elsa had just told them. The weight of her words hung heavily in the room. It took Anna a moment—long enough to steady her breath—before she began explaining what had happened in Arendelle during Elsa’s absence: the eerie mist that had crept across the kingdom, the mysterious disappearance of the sailors, and Pabbie’s alarming warning when she visited the trolls with Kristoff and Olaf. Elsa’s eyes widened in surprise as she listened, clearly shaken by the news.

“That’s why I’ve had to restrict late sea travel,” Anna said with a weary sigh. “Any ship that doesn’t depart early enough has to be rescheduled for the next morning. And… well, it’s made managing the harbor so much more complicated.”

Suddenly, Anna remembered the crystal that Pabbie had given her. She retrieved it from where she had hidden it and held it out to Elsa. But the moment Elsa’s fingers brushed against the crystal, terror overtook her. Her face went pale, her eyes widened in shock, and her entire body trembled violently. The air in the room grew heavy and dark, and sheets of ice and snow erupted uncontrollably from her. If Olaf hadn’t snatched the crystal away in time, Elsa might have collapsed to the floor.

Everyone froze, unsure of what had just happened. Anna rushed to her sister’s side, lifting her into her arms. Just moments ago, Elsa had been steady and composed—but now, she seemed utterly drained of strength. Her breath came in shaky gasps, and even her accustomed resilience to cold could not shield her from the icy chill that radiated from her trembling form.

“This crystal…” Elsa stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. “It… it’s horrible… I only touched it for a moment… and I could feel his power… just like… just like in my dream.”

“Pabbie said this is the crystal from the crown of the Emperor of Ruins,” Anna said, worry creasing her brow. “If it’s really that dangerous, maybe we should take it back to Pabbie.”

“Don’t!” Elsa interrupted sharply. “We need to bring it to the Northuldra. They are the ones who likely know everything about the Emperor of Ruins. I must show this to their elder—she may have the answers we need.”

“You’re not in any condition to leave right now, Elsa,” Kristoff said firmly. “Rest first, and then the four of us will head to the Enchanted Forest together.”

“The Northuldra have already left the Enchanted Forest,” Elsa replied, her expression urgent. “None of us knows where they are except me. I’ll lead the way—but we must go now!”

Anna noticed the tension on Elsa’s face and gently spoke to her sister.

“Don’t carry everything on your shoulders alone this time, Elsa,” she said softly. “Didn’t we save Arendelle together last time? This isn’t just your responsibility—we all have to stand up for our people. You’ve been through so much already. Rest here tonight, and tomorrow morning, we’ll all set off together to find the Northuldra.”

Although Elsa longed to leave immediately, she found her sister’s words made perfect sense. After a sleepless night, the long ride, and the terrifying events of the day, she was utterly exhausted. With a small sigh, she climbed into Anna’s bed and fell into a deep, peaceful sleep. Anna, thoughtful as ever, asked the servants to prepare a warm glass of hot chocolate to bring to her sister when she woke. Meanwhile, she and Kristoff began preparing for their journey to where the Northuldra had gone, determined to set off at first light.

Chapter Text

It had been two days since the mysterious mist first appeared, drifting in without warning and wrapping Arendelle in a ghostly embrace. Those two days had been especially difficult for Anna and Kristoff, for they had to prepare for the arrival of ambassadors from neighboring kingdoms while also keeping watch over the steady stream of vessels coming in from all directions. Night after night, Anna found herself going to bed long after the castle lights had dimmed, only to rise again before the sun, her strength slowly worn down in both body and spirit. Thankfully, Kristoff—together with the seasoned officials who had served since her father's reign—stood by her side, helping ensure that everything stayed on the right course. But today… today was different.

The mist returned once more in the dead of night, drifting silently over Arendelle while everyone slept soundly—everyone except one. Elsa should have been resting peacefully in the cozy bed she and Anna had shared as children, but another strange dream stirred her awake.

In that dream, she found herself standing upon a vast expanse of water, as still and endless as the open sea. Everything around her was silent—no ripples spreading across the surface, not even the faintest whisper of wind. Ahead of her lay a radiant island, crowned with a glacier that wound its way between a mountain and cascaded over a towering wall of ice.

“Ahtohallan…! Why am I here?”

Suddenly, a shadow emerged before her. He looked just like the figure she had once encountered in her dream while she was in the land of the Northuldra people. The man lifted his hand, and in an instant, the light of Ahtohallan vanished completely. The mountain crumbled, and countless fractures split across the massive ice wall. Harsh, echoing sounds of ice breaking apart and plunging into the water followed, sharp enough to make her heart tighten.

But what shocked Elsa even more was the sight rising behind the mysterious man: an immeasurable army taking form out of the darkness. It was an army of the dead, goblins, giant beasts, and other strange creatures reminiscent of wolve. At that moment, he pulled back his hood, revealing a fierce, hardened face and a crown resting upon his head. At its center was a hollow, shaped exactly like the crystal Anna had once shown her.

“You…” Elsa shouted. “You are the Emperor of Ruins, aren’t you?”

But he did not answer.

Elsa began gathering magic in her hands, the cold energy spiraling as if she were preparing to strike. Seeing this, he slowly lifted his left hand, and the ring on his index finger glimmered—an eerie spark of gloom and death.

“Why do you come to find me? What do you really want from me?”

She had barely finished her sentence when he was suddenly standing right before her. With a surge of power, he forced pressure down onto her legs, driving her to her knees. He stared down at her with burning red eyes, and within them she saw a fierce fire—an immense, unyielding will.

Then something struck him from the side, hard enough to make him stagger, almost losing his footing. Elsa glanced over and saw Anna, Kristoff, Olaf, Sven, and Pabbie—along with a tall figure on horseback, also draped in a black cloak. He had a round face, thick eyebrows, a silver-white beard, and a small mole behind his right eyebrow. His sharp eye blazed with fury, and on his head rested a jade-green crown. He gripped a long stick in his hand, shaped very much like a staff. Elsa could only think that either there were two Emperors of Ruins… or one of them was an impostor.

“Anna? Why are you here? And who is that man with the staff?”

At that moment, countless souls emerged behind the black-cloaked man with the staff. Their forms glowed jade green, each one gripping swords and spears, and some rode on spectral horses just like he did. It looked as though they were gathering to protect Ahtohallan itself.

Then the Emperor of Ruins spoke, his voice cold and terrifying as it echoed through the stillness:

“Alósseiðr…”

And at that moment, Elsa awoke from the dream. She gasped, her breath sharp as she sat upright, and glanced around the room. Everything seemed normal—quiet, still—until a faint puff of green smoke drifted past the window. She recognized it at once. It had to be the strange mist Anna had mentioned.

She stepped out of her room and made her way to the palace hall, only to find the main door standing open. Three familiar figures stood there—Anna, Kristoff, and Olaf. Anna turned at the sound of footsteps and saw Elsa approaching.

“You’re awake.” Anna said, worry etched in her voice. “Did you see something awful again?”

“Yeah…” Elsa answered, her voice tired. “I dreamed that the Emperor of Ruins came to me again. Why are you all awake at this hour? Is it because of this mist?”

“Yes,” Kristoff replied helplessly. “The last time this mist appeared, people started vanishing without explanation. I have no idea what will happen this time.”

At that very moment, grim and unsettling sounds echoed through the air—noises that seemed like the voices of the dead, newly dragged back into the world of the living. Everyone froze in shock. Olaf rushed to Elsa and clutched her bodice, trembling, while Sven suddenly bolted toward Kristoff from out of nowhere. The reindeer looked so terrified that the big guy had to calm him with hurried pats.

Seeing how quickly things were spiraling out of control, both Anna and Elsa realized the situation was worsening by the second. They exchanged a look and decided—they had to leave for the Northuldra homeland immediately.

“Do we really have to go right now?” Kristoff asked, still clearly shaken by the mist. “Why don’t we wait until it fades, then go?”

“There’s no time to wait!” Anna insisted. “If we want any chance of solving this, we need to go to the elder of the Northuldra people and ask for her guidance.”

“I believe she knows something about all of this,” Elsa said sharply. “She might even be hiding information about the Emperor of Ruins—information she’s too afraid to reveal. This time, I have to ask her properly.”

They quickly prepared a carriage and fastened it to Sven with a sturdy rope. Anna changed into her traveling attire—a black, long-sleeved dress paired with golden trousers and a pair of black boots, just like the outfit she had worn the last time she journeyed into the Enchanted Forest. Before they departed, Anna entrusted the state affairs to the Duke and granted command of the army to Marshal Mattias, the loyal soldier who had once accompanied her father in his youth on his venture into the Enchanted Forest. She instructed them both to maintain the curfew without fail. Moments later, the carriage set off, carrying the four of them swiftly into the mist-laden night.

Because it was so dark and the mist so thick, even with the brightest lamps blazing, Kristoff could see no more than twenty feet ahead. Elsa sat in the back of the carriage, hugging herself—not just from the cold, but also because the haunting images from her dream still lingered vividly in her mind.

“Can’t we go faster, Kristoff?” Anna called out loudly.

“This is the fastest we can go in weather like this!” Kristoff shouted back. “I don’t know what lies ahead—the mist is too thick to see anything.”

“Just like Pabbie said,” Elsa whispered to Olaf. “This mist… it hides a power, ancient and powerful. I… I’ve never felt anything like it before.”

“Are you okay, Elsa?” Olaf asked, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. “I brought some water and food. If you’re not okay, tell me—I’ll help.”

Elsa just looked at Olaf and smiled. Indeed, among all of her creations of ice and snow, Olaf was the most magnificent one she had ever created—not only because he had life, but also because he represented the tenderness between her and her sister, the unforgettable memories from her childhood, and the experiences she and Anna had shared in their previous adventures. She became drowsy and slowly falls asleep.

But it seemed that heaven wasn’t quite done with her yet. Just as the reindeer carriage emerged from the mist, it came to an abrupt halt. Everyone let out a startled cry and tumbled forward, obeying the stubborn laws of inertia. Slowly and painfully, they scrambled back to their feet, rubbing sore arms and shoulders.

“Why are you stopping like that, Sven?” Kristoff scolded, glaring at his reindeer. “You made us fall—and it really hurts!”

Sven tilted his head toward a moss-covered rock, as if trying to explain. It wasn’t that he had stopped on purpose; the rock had tumbled down the slope, catching him by surprise, and he had only reacted on instinct.

“Wait…" Elsa leaned forward, her eyes narrowing as she tried to see through the fog. "...is that Pabbie?”

At that moment, the rock shimmered and shifted, revealing itself as a troll draped in a leaf cloak dotted with golden crystals—none other than Pabbie. With surprising speed, he scurried toward the carriage and spoke to Anna.

“Are you heading to Yelana’s place, Queen Anna? May I accompany you?”

“Yes! We’re on our way to the Northuldra’s home. But why do you want to come with us?”

“I’ve just uncovered a terrifying piece of information about the Emperor of Ruins,” Pabbie replied, his voice urgent. “I need to meet with the Northuldra to discuss it.”

Kristoff frowned, curiosity mixed with concern. “What information, Pabbie?”

“Once we arrive, I’ll tell you everything. But please, Your Majesty, let me be there with you.”

They let Pabbie climb into the carriage, and Sven began moving again. Elsa leaned closer to the troll, her voice barely above a whisper. Was he hiding something from Anna? she wondered. She urged him to tell her everything, a secret meant only for the two of them.

Pabbie exhaled deeply and leaned toward her, his voice low enough for only Elsa to hear.

“I have learned the true name of the Emperor of Ruins, Queen Elsa.”

“Then tell me, Pabbie! He has crept into my dreams these past two nights and left me exhausted.”

“It’s…”

Before he could finish, the carriage jolted to a sudden stop in the middle of the forest. But this time, nothing was blocking the path.

Kristoff’s eyes narrowed, and he understood immediately. Raising a finger to his lips, he signaled everyone to stay silent. Then he held the lamp aloft, casting a pool of warm light into the surrounding darkness, revealing the shadows of the forest with every flicker.

Suddenly, a terrible howl ripped through the darkness, echoing from somewhere behind the trees. It was followed by a chorus of other howls, filling the forest with a haunting, relentless sound. Then, streaks of yellow eyes appeared, moving closer to the carriage. Under the fragile glow of Kristoff’s lamp, a pack of wolves revealed themselves—starving and numerous. Without waiting for anyone’s warning, Kristoff urged Sven forward, pushing him to move at full speed through the forest. The wolves surged after them, teeth bared and eyes glinting. Elsa and Pabbie unleashed their magic, flares of ice and shimmering energy striking at the approaching beasts, while Anna gripped a long stick, swinging fiercely at any wolf that came too close.

But the wolves were cunning and relentless, taking turns attacking Sven and the carriage from all sides. In a sudden lunge, Kristoff lost his footing and fell backward, his hands clutching the side of the carriage. Olaf and Pabbie lunged to pull him back to safety, but the wolves pressed on. Finally, Elsa sent a surge of ice radiating outward. The wolves skidded and tumbled, their footing lost on the slick surface, and one by one they retreated into the shadows.

"Thanks Elsa!" Kristoff said.

"You're welcome." Elsa smiled. "I can't let my sister's man get torn apart by the wolves."

"Are you okay, Kristoff?" Anna said worriedly. "You scared me to death just now."

"Yeah! I'm fine! Everything is OK now."

They continued their journey north, the carriage crunching over the forest floor, until daylight finally broke. Before them lay a fjord, framed by a vast forest whose trees had sprouted lush, vibrant foliage as the weather slowly shifted toward summer. Towering cliffs rose on either side, and among the trees bloomed flowers of every color.

“Here we are!” Elsa exclaimed, a smile lighting her face. “Follow me.”

They dismounted and stepped into the forest, where the Northuldra people stood alert, spears in hand. At the sight of Elsa, their faces lit up and they shouted:

“Elsa is back! And her sister, and the others! Hurry, tell Yelana!”

Laughter and excitement filled the air as old friends reunited. Questions flew freely, especially directed at Pabbie, whom they hadn’t seen in many years. Soon, Yelana herself appeared, greeting Anna, Kristoff, and Olaf warmly. But when Pabbie approached, he did not bow or exchange pleasantries. Instead, his eyes met Yelana’s with earnest urgency, a hint of worry shadowing his expression.

“Yelana! Vegrandór has returned!”

Chapter Text

Yelana was struck with extreme astonishment, a look of fear spreading across her face. Those around her, noticing the old woman's expression, also sensed that something was off in Pabbie's words. They realized that his very presence here meant he had something important to tell.

"Is this true!?" Yelana asked Pabbie carefully. "How do you know about Vegrandór?"

"I made countless calculations and foresaw many future events, all of which yielded the same result I mentioned. Moreover, the appearance of that ghastly mist in Arendelle yesterday only further confirms the accuracy of my prediction: the North is about to quake once more, just as it did a thousand years ago.

A gentle wind blew between them, carrying a melancholy, bleak feeling. Elsa sensed fear in Gale, who moved cautiously, as if trying to avoid something. Both Yelana and Pabbie noticed it.

"What are you really talking about?" Anna asked. "I don’t understand anything!"

"Perhaps we should come inside and have a proper talk—it would be much better," Yelana said. "Please, come to my tent, have some snacks and drinks, and then I will tell you all about the Emperor of Ruins and the distant history of the North."

Following Yelana’s invitation, they stepped into a hut adorned with typical Northuldra patterns and motifs, symbols representing the spirits of earth, water, fire, wind, and the fifth spirit. Inside, a large fur carpet covered the floor, a wide wooden plank served as a bed, a chest sat in the corner, and numerous clothes hung neatly on a pine rack.

They sat on the soft carpet, and Olaf found it incredibly comfortable, almost like sitting on a meadow. Yelana brought a tray with glasses of water, and each person took one. Then she moved to the chest, lifted the lid, and pulled out a long scroll, returning to stand before everyone.

"What is this, Yelana?" Anna asked the old woman.

"This is the record of the Emperor of Ruins, kept by our ancestors," Yelana said as she unrolled the scroll. "It was written immediately after the empire’s disaster, a thousand years ago."

"Disaster?" Olaf asked, his eyes wide. "What was it?"

Yelana pointed to the first line of runes on the scroll:

"Since ancient times, there was no sea across all the North. In those days, the waters lay far to the west, in distant lands. Yet the presence of races—both native and migrant—and the rise of ancient civilizations soon brought great wealth to this land. We expanded into and claimed the territories within our reach, trading with other peoples in harmony."

"But with humans..." Pabbie continued, his voice grave, "...no matter how much land they possessed, it was never enough. Countless disputes erupted over forests, mountains, rivers, and even every inch of land suitable for cultivation. Tensions between native peoples and migrants grew ever fiercer, especially when the natives refused to accept the tribes arriving from distant lands."

"Why did they do that?" Kristoff asked.

"The native peoples claimed that the arrival of migrants was an illegal intrusion into their lands, disrupting their homes and farming grounds. But the migrants argued that they had purchased the lands directly from the natives, even producing written documents to prove that the natives had sold the land and that they had no intention of leaving. The natives, however, refused to recognize the legality of these texts, deeming them forgeries. Negotiations and compromises quickly reached a deadlock, as neither side would yield."

"And it was this conflict that gave rise to the 'Seventy Years War' between the ancient peoples of the North," Yelana continued, unrolling the scroll further. "It was that war which laid the foundations for the undying empire of the Emperor of Ruins, a thousand years ago."

Now, all of them—especially Anna and Elsa—sat upright, their eyes fixed intently on Yelana’s fingers as she traced the words and drawings on the scroll.

"In the war," Yelana began, "there was a people considered the strongest, for they possessed both magical abilities and physical strength far beyond any other race. They called themselves Hráþarr (pronounced Rau-tharr), meaning ‘people of the high ground.’ Their leader at that time was Vegrandór, who would later unite the North and become the Emperor of the Undying Empire of Valtari."

"Are the Hráþarr natives or migrants, Yelana?" Anna asked.

"They are native," Yelana replied. "Their territory stretched across the Varúð Plateau in the west, where mighty rivers flowed, nourishing the land for agriculture. Towering glacial ridges formed natural fortresses, making the area easy to defend and nearly impossible to assault. Over generations, their leaders built a formidable army, strong enough to end all conflicts in the North."

"Until the generation of Vegrandór..." Yelana continued, unrolling the scroll even further. "...then the mission of unification was finally complete. At the end of the Seventy Years’ War, the Hráþarr grew stronger with each passing day, while the other races, exhausted by the protracted conflict, fell into decline. Their armies were depleted, their resources drained, and it was in this moment that Vegrandór led the Hráþarr forces into the lands of the races dwelling in the lower regions—and conquered them all."

"Yet Vegrandór was a pragmatic leader," Pabbie interjected. "Those who came to surrender were forgiven, allowed to remain and manage their lands, even though these territories rightly belonged to the Hráþarr. But those who resisted relentlessly—he destroyed to the very last one, sparing no one, not even the children."

Anna and Elsa sighed and turned to Yelana.

"So, what happened after that, Yelana?"

"After unifying the North, Vegrandór declared himself Emperor and established the Valtari Empire," Yelana explained. "From the very beginning, it shone like an eternal lamp in the darkness of the North—a phantom to distant kingdoms, and a sanctuary for sorcerers and magic users, for the Hráþarr had long been skilled in the ways of magic. It was then that they built Ahtohallan, both as a sacred place of worship and as a center for the study and practice of magic and spells."

Elsa was quite surprised by this revelation. Until now, she had thought of Ahtohallan as merely a place that stored memories from the past. She wondered if the voices and calls she had heard during her previous adventure were those of the one who had created Ahtohallan—or if the place itself had been given life, calling out to her.

"Exactly who created Ahtohallan, Yelana?" Elsa asked.

"It was a man named Alasadir," Pabbie replied. "He was a brilliant sorcerer and an exceptional military general. The people of the North called him ‘The Eye of God’ or ‘The Man of Night.’"

"Sounds interesting!" Olaf exclaimed, curiosity lighting up his face.

"Alasadir…?" Elsa murmured, trying to sift through her memories. "Isn’t he the one wearing the crown I saw in my dream—could it really have been him?"

"You dreamed he appeared, Elsa?" Anna asked, eyes wide with curiosity.

Without hesitation, Elsa recounted the entire dream in as much detail as she could remember. Everyone around her listened intently. Yelana and Pabbie exchanged frowns, their expressions revealing that this dream might be connected to a matter of great importance.

"That's everything I saw," Elsa said. "But what kind of person was Alasadir, really?"

"Alasadir was a genius…" Yelana began. "…but also a man often weighed down by sorrow and moods. He was the only one born without magic, yet he could wield it effortlessly through sheer thought and will. Most astonishing of all, his power was so immense that he created all the spirits himself, simply to manage those he did not have time to control."

Everyone listened in awe at Yelana’s words.

"What!" Anna and Elsa exclaimed. "All these powerful spirits in this forest… were created by him alone?"

"Not only that," Yelana continued. "Alasadir could command and manipulate the spirits at will, much like Vegrandór. He is also the only one who can reach Ahtohallan without crossing the Dark Sea."

After finishing, Yelana took a quiet sip of water.

"So what happened to Vegrandór and the Valtari Empire?" Kristoff asked. "Why is there no trace of the Hráþarr people today?"

Yelana unrolled the scroll further, revealing a drawing of a grand castle rising from the midst of the waves. Anna and Elsa gazed at it, and in that instant, they understood the reason.

"Although Vegrandór was a great Emperor, at the end of his life he was obsessed with death and he believed in a prophecy that 'the Valtari Empire will be trampled on by its founders themselves, its aura will get devoured by the darkness and it won't ever know the day it will be visited.' So he built many forts on the southern border of the empire, and Arendelle was one of them."

"Arendelle was once a stronghold of the Valtari Empire?" Anna asked, eyes wide with curiosity.

"Actually, it was originally called Arundil," Pabbie explained. "It wasn’t until after the fall of the Valtari Empire that it was renamed Arendelle."

"But that wasn’t enough to ease his fears," Yelana replied. "Vegrandór became increasingly haunted by thoughts of death, convinced that even if only he remained, the empire would endure. In his despair, he committed a reckless act—he executed all the dukes and generals who had achieved great feats during the war."

"They were all killed by Vegrandór?" Olaf asked, eyes wide.

"Most of them…" Pabbie nodded solemnly. "And it was this which enraged The Almighty. Seven plagues were cast upon the Valtari Empire, and the last one sank everything to the bottom of the sea. Not a single Hráþarr survived—except for Alasadir, who still lives to this day."

"Alasadir is still alive!" Elsa exclaimed, eyes widening. "It’s impossible… how can someone live for over a thousand years?"

"Alasadir had been warned by The Almighty about the final plague because of his construction of Ahtohallan," Yelana explained. "How he survived, we do not know. All we know is that he was granted the authority to govern the souls of the dead—and he will only die if someone personally kills him."

Yelana unrolled the remaining portion of the scroll and spoke:

"Alasadir was the one who tore Vegrandór’s spirit apart, placing one fragment inside a crystal. It is said that the crystal was set upon Vegrandór’s crown. As for the rest of his spirit, it was scattered to other places."

"Isn’t this it, Yelana?" Anna asked, producing the crystal Pabbie had given her.

"Yes," Pabbie confirmed. "The crystal’s reaction to the ghastly mist that enveloped Arendelle proves it."

"But why would he divide Vegrandór’s spirit into so many parts?" Kristoff asked, puzzled.

"We have no idea. The only way to know is to ask him directly."

"After the fall of the Valtari Empire…" Yelana continued, "new kingdoms arose in the North. Arendelle was founded and developed by Lord Aren atop the foundation of the fort Arundil. The Southern Isles were established by Gurðúr the Devotee. Our own people, the Northuldra, were protected by the spirits and chose this forest as our home, under the leadership of Ingorddid, the head of our tribe at that time. Since then, no one has paid heed to the Valtari Empire. Vegrandór has faded from memory, remembered only as 'The Emperor of Ruins'—a name passed down in legends, though greatly distorted from the truth."

"But now, things have changed…" Pabbie said. "Vegrandór has returned, just as the prophecy foretold. And he will use all his strength to unite the North once more, just as he did a thousand years ago."

No one spoke. Each of them seemed lost in their own thoughts. If events unfolded as they should, everything would become extremely complicated, and no single region would be strong enough to confront Vegrandór alone.

"You must all be tired," Yelana said. "So I will end the story here and prepare a place for everyone to rest. Honeymaron! Come here!"

A young girl entered, and Yelana instructed her to set up a makeshift hut and bring food for everyone. Kristoff added that she should feed Sven as well. She hurried to do so. Soon, the four of them found themselves in a spacious, airy hut near the forest. They lay down and chatted quietly for a few minutes before succumbing to exhaustion and falling asleep.

Chapter Text

"You cannot hide..."

A voice echoed in Elsa's ears, waking her from sleep. She rubbed her eyes and looked outside, realizing that it had already been dark for a while. It was still August, so the nights didn’t usually last long, and people here often adjusted their sleeping hours to follow the natural rhythm. But the question remained: who could have called Elsa while everyone else was fast asleep?

"I see you..."

Elsa went outside and saw a figure standing under a leafless tree. He wore a black cloak that covered his entire body except for his head. On his head was a Scheele's green crown, and his hand wore a glowing ring. Elsa couldn’t see his face, even though he wasn’t wearing the hood of the cloak. A surge of power radiated from him, overwhelming her magic and rendering her arms, legs, and mouth immobile. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t call out for anyone to wake up.

“He’s definitely Vegrandór,” Elsa thought. “Damn! I can’t use my strength to break free from his suppression…”

“All of you shall obey my orders…” the voice spoke again. “…because I am the Emperor of the North.”

Suddenly, Elsa snapped out of the sense of being controlled and returned to reality when she saw Anna and Kristoff shaking her roughly.

“Elsa! Elsa!” Anna called repeatedly. “What’s wrong? Has the Emperor of Ruins come to you again?”

Elsa nodded, her face reflecting sadness, fear, and exhaustion.

“We have to go to Yelana right now!” Anna said, grabbing Elsa’s hand, her anger evident. “This can’t happen again.”

With that, they all hurried to the old woman’s hut. Inside, Yelana and Pabbie were sitting together, discussing something, with a map spread out in front of them. The moment they saw Anna and Elsa, they immediately understood what had happened.

“Have you dreamed of Vegrandór again, Elsa?” Pabbie asked.

“This is the third time he’s come to me. I don’t know what he wants from me, or why he doesn’t go looking for other spirits.”

“We have no idea…” Yelana said. “As far as I can tell, there are probably only two people who know the answer.”

“Who are they, Yelana?” Anna demanded, growing impatient. “Where are they? What are they doing? Do they have anything to do with you?”

“Just take it easy, Anna,” Kristoff said.

“Those who know the truth…” Yelana replied. “…the first is the one who has come to Elsa: Vegrandór.”

Anna and Kristoff sighed. The answer sounded almost absurd. It seemed too unlikely that he would come to Elsa without any purpose—especially since Elsa was the fifth spirit.

“And the other one… is Alasadir, who built Ahtohallan and created the five spirits.”

As she said this, Yelana pointed to the map. It showed the locations of the Enchanted Forest, Arendelle, the Southern Isles, Ahtohallan, the Dark Sea, and a strange island. The island lay far to the northwest, marked with a peculiar symbol in the color of cockroach wings, resembling a seagull. They stared at it, realizing that not a single map of Arendelle included this place.

“If I’m not mistaken, our parents’ map didn’t show this island,” Anna said to Elsa. “Where is this place, Yelana?”

“Our ancestors called it Šlávaideana (pronounced Shla-vaai-de-anar), which means ‘land of the slaves,’” Yelana replied. “It lies far to the west-northwest. It’s a place of which we have no written records, because no one lives there. Alasadir is on that island, ruling over the souls of the dead.”

“How can we get there, Yelana?” Elsa asked.

Yelana sensed Elsa’s intentions in asking, but she didn’t answer immediately. Instead, Pabbie spoke up.

“You really want to go there?” Pabbie asked, worried. “That place is eerie and dangerous—far more dangerous than the Dark Sea in the north. I won’t stop you, but there are many things to consider before you go.”

“There’s no time to hesitate,” Anna pleaded. “Are you two just going to let my sister be haunted by that Vedagor guy?”

“It’s Vegrandór!” Kristoff corrected.

Anna felt extremely embarrassed for a moment.

“We don’t mean that,” Pabbie continued. “If you want to go there, there is still a way—but…”

“But what, Pabbie?” Elsa asked.

“Alasadir is rather serene and withdrawn,” Yelana said. “Even if you make it there, it’s unlikely he will welcome you kindly.”

“Nonetheless, we have to go,” Elsa said to the old woman. “I have no choice but to find him—only he can provide us with more information.”

Seeing that no matter what they said, Elsa and Anna wouldn’t change their minds, Yelana and Pabbie reluctantly agreed. Moreover, Anna’s concerns weren’t unreasonable: Vegrandór had returned, and there was no time to hesitate. They had to make the first move before him.

“I’m responsible for protecting the Northuldra people here, so I can’t go with you. If you want to get there, then go—but remember carefully: don’t mention how you came to Ahtohallan in front of Alasadir. He doesn’t like foreigners setting foot in the temple he built.”

“And I’m going back to Arendelle to take care of your people, Anna,” Pabbie said.

“Thank you so much!” Anna and Elsa replied in unison.

Then they left the old woman’s hut to prepare for the journey. They planned to sail, with the ship to be crafted by Elsa. The Northuldra people provided them with clothes, torches, food, and a few lamps. They loaded the supplies onto Kristoff’s carriage, and Sven, along with the other reindeer, pulled it northwest, toward Alasadir’s domain. Reaching the shore, Elsa used her powers to create a vessel—an iceberg shaped into the form of a barquentine(*)—and she, Anna, Olaf, Kristoff, and finally Sven boarded it.

“Good luck!” Yelana and Pabbie cheered loudly. “We hope you come back soon!”

The vessel then sailed farther and farther. The sight of Yelana and Pabbie waving gradually faded, until it disappeared into the fog.

And so, their new adventure began…

Meanwhile, on a cliff of a mysterious island, a figure gazed toward the southeast. He wore a black cloak, held a staff in his hand, and an illusion of a crown hovered above his head.

“A wonderful being I created a thousand years ago is coming to me,” he said. “It wants me to answer its questions, but it shall receive nothing… only death.”

(*) barquentine: a type of sailing vessel with three or more masts whose origin is from Northwest Europe and America. Often used for shipping cargo and sea-going in the 19th century.

Chapter Text

Following the map’s instructions, they set off northwest, riding the whispering sea currents, before turning right to venture north, away from the restless, windy waters. As they journeyed closer to the Arctic, each step brought a sharper chill that nipped at their cheeks. Fortunately, the sea tempered the cold, keeping the climate from freezing entirely. And so, bundled in up to three cozy layers, they pressed on.

"This trip looks like it’s going to be tough," Kristoff shivered, hugging himself against the cold. "I didn’t even dare wash my face—I was afraid my facial muscles would stiffen so much that I couldn’t close my eyes."

"I don’t have facial muscles," Olaf replied cheerfully. "Or eyelids."

"Today is the third day since we left the Northuldra’s land. When will we finally reach that goddamn island?" Kristoff muttered, his voice tinged with frustration.

"We’ll be there soon," Anna said, trying to sound encouraging. "I believe what Yelana told us is true. If Vegrandór really existed, the first person he would have come to must have been Alasadir. He had served Vegrandór faithfully, even during the war and when the Valtari Empire was founded. Isn’t that right, Elsa?"

Anna turned to her sister, only to find Elsa crossing her arms and staring straight ahead, keeping silent.

"Elsa?"

But still, there was only silence in response. Anna stepped closer and gently placed a hand on her sister’s shoulder.

"Elsa, are you okay?"

"Yeah…" Elsa sighed. "I’m fine. It’s just… I’m worried. Alasadir isn’t just intelligent—he’s cold-blooded. Yelana once told me that he even killed his own brother for no particular reason."

"He killed his relatives?" Olaf exclaimed. "How brutal!"

"That’s why you’re worried he might harm us, isn’t it?" Anna asked softly.

Elsa stared at the horizon, her gaze distant and heavy.

"Not only that… I also feel that even if we survive meeting Alasadir, I’m not sure we’ll be able to make it back if we encounter Vegrandór."

For a moment, the entire vessel was swallowed by a silence, bleak and oppressive. What Elsa said felt all too reasonable. None of them were certain that Alasadir was truly trustworthy, and the possibility that they might never return alive lingered like a shadow over them. What they needed now was a silver tongue—and perhaps a touch of Heaven-sent luck.

However, before they could reach their destination, Elsa suddenly felt an ominous, almost suffocating aura. Instinctively, she disguised the vessel to resemble an iceberg and slowed it drastically. No one understood why.

"What’s the matter?" Kristoff asked, worry lining his voice. "Why are you letting the ship crawl along like this, Elsa?"

"Silence!" Elsa commanded. "Something is moving out there… and I can sense there are far too many of them."

They peered into the fog-shrouded sea, but could see nothing.

"I don’t see anything," Olaf squinted, frowning. "Or… Elsa, are you just imagining things because you’re tired?"

"Wait…" Anna exclaimed, her voice sharp with alarm. "The fog… it’s turning green!"

At that moment, they realized it wasn’t ordinary fog—it was Vegrandór’s mist! A surge of fear rippled through Elsa. She sank to the deck, hugging herself, trembling, her breaths coming in sharp, uneven gasps. Seeing this, Anna hurried to her side and wrapped her arms around her sister’s shoulders, offering what little comfort she could.

Then, something horrifying began to emerge from the mist: an endless army, walking upon the water itself. They looked like drowned souls, each armed with axes, shields, and spears. Towering beasts moved among them, as tall as the rock giants of the Enchanted Forest, accompanied by massive black wolves. The sea beneath their feet solidified as if frozen, and all of them advanced steadily toward the Enchanted Forest.

"How can this be!" Anna and Kristoff gasped in unison. "Isn’t Elsa supposed to be the only one who can freeze the sea?"

Olaf pointed toward a figure cloaked in pale green.

"Hey, Anna… Kristoff… Who’s that?"

They followed Olaf’s gesture and saw him—the one leading the army—freezing the sea beneath his feet. He rode a horse that looked as lifeless as the fallen, a ghostly steed in the midst of the advancing horde.

"He…" Anna stammered, confusion clouding her voice. "He cannot be…"

"He’s not Vegrandór!" Elsa interrupted sharply. "Although his power rivals mine, it’s far darker, far gloomier."

Suddenly, the rider halted and slowly turned his head toward the vessel. Instinctively, everyone dropped to the deck, lying flat, holding their breath. A frostbitten chill crawled over them—not ordinary cold, but something like the nether aura of a dead soul. Elsa felt it most intensely, for she alone among them had been touched by the spirits created by Alasadir.

The horse continued toward the Enchanted Forest, vanishing into the swirling mist. Soon after, Vegrandór’s terrifying army surged across the waters. The ice beneath their feet melted quickly—but not into water. Instead, it rose into a ghostly vapor, curling and dissipating into the air.

"This ice… it’s… strange," Kristoff said, eyes wide. "Normally ice melts into water, right? But why does this… evaporate into smoke?"

"Well," Anna said thoughtfully, her brow furrowed, "that proves the person we just saw is most likely a sorcerer."

For hours, they held the vessel back, unable to move forward because the sheer size of the army was too overwhelming. Eventually, they continued their journey, but the atmosphere on deck had grown tighter than ever, heavy with unease after witnessing Vegrandór’s terrifying force.

"They’re heading toward the Enchanted Forest," Elsa said, her voice tight with concern. "That means the Northuldra people are in danger… maybe even Arendelle."

"I’m not trying to insult anyone…" Kristoff said, his tone grim. "…but even if all of Arendelle’s forces and the Southern Isles joined together, I don’t think it would be enough to defeat those monsters. You’ve seen them yourselves! They’re full of the dead, towering beasts… enormous and unstoppable."

"You said the leader wasn’t Vegrandór… so who was he?" Anna asked, her voice tense.

"I have no idea," Elsa admitted, eyes narrowing. "But he was certainly not Vegrandór—he didn’t wear a crown, and his power wasn’t as immense as Vegrandór’s."

"Enough talking!" Kristoff snapped. "We need to get out of here and reach that damn island as fast as we can. From what I see, things are only getting worse."

Without hesitation, Elsa removed the vessel’s disguise, giving back its original speed, and guided it further northwest.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They sailed on for another day when Olaf suddenly spotted land ahead. At first glance, it looked like an iceberg—but it was actually a small island, reminiscent of Ahtohallan. Before them lay a fjord, cradled by two towering mountain ranges beneath the brilliant summer sun. Thin clouds drifted across the peaks, like wisps of fog flowing gently over the rugged terrain.

But at that very moment, something appeared far to their right, moving toward them at an unnervingly fast pace.

"What is it?" Olaf asked, eyes wide. "It’s heading straight for us!"

"I have no idea, Olaf," Elsa replied, her voice tight with unease.

When it was only about a nautical mile away, they realized it was a massive vessel, unlike anything they had seen before. Its white mast stood tall, and the stem was designed in a sleek, modern style—built to cut through ice and glide smoothly across the water. The bottom of the ship gleamed with an unusual black-gray metal.

"I don’t have a good feeling about this, Sven…" Kristoff murmured to his reindeer, unease evident in his voice.

The vessel slowed as it passed them. No one could be seen on deck, yet a single window glowed with the faint light of a lantern. A chilling, eerie atmosphere wrapped around them, and they couldn’t shake the thought that whoever had been on that ship might have met with some terrible fate.

"This ship looks really strange," Anna said, her eyes scanning the vessel. "It’s nothing like the ships of Arendelle or any other kingdom."

"But why is it here?" Kristoff muttered, doubt lining his voice. "Didn’t Yelana say these waters are extremely dangerous? And… why isn’t there anyone on board?"

Before he could finish, a figure suddenly appeared, moving along the side of the ship, startling them all. He wore a captain’s uniform: a long white coat, worn and creased, with a row of brass buttons; a black waistcoat; dark trousers; and leather shoes. His face was obscured from their view, and perched atop his head was a hat decorated with feathers of every imaginable color.

"Hey! I just saw someone on board!" Olaf shouted, his tiny arms waving. "My eyes aren’t playing tricks on me!"

"You think we’re all blind?" Kristoff said, a frown creasing his forehead. "I saw it too."

"What do we do now?" Anna asked, worry threading her voice. "Should we go up there to check?"

"I’m afraid that’s not a good idea, Anna," Elsa said, shaking her head. "We don’t know anything about these waters. Everything feels… suspicious. Maybe this is one of Alasadir’s tricks to drive us away."

Suddenly, the figure on the vessel turned toward them and spoke, his voice loud and clear, tinged with a hint of excitement:

"You know Alasadir! Are you here to find him?"

Hearing the tone, Elsa felt a flicker of relief. Perhaps this wasn’t one of Alasadir’s traps after all—the man seemed to know about Alasadir too.

"How do we answer him?" Kristoff asked, uncertainty in his voice.

"Leave it to me!" Olaf said, stepping confidently forward.

"Wait, Olaf…" Anna began, reaching out, but it was too late.

But it was too late—Olaf had already begun speaking to the mysterious figure.

"You know Alasadir too!?" he asked, his excitement bubbling over.

"Of course I know him!" the man replied. "I usually sell food to him!"

Then, with surprising agility, he dropped anchor and brought his massive vessel to a halt. Before anyone could react, he climbed along the side and, in a single leap, landed on Elsa’s ship, leaving everyone wide-eyed with astonishment.

Only now could they see his face clearly: small, sharp eyes; a short, neat nose; hair shaved clean on both sides of his head; and a pair of rectangular-lensed glasses perched on his face. He was tall and slim, yet visibly strong and fit.

"This ice ship looks really cool!" the man exclaimed, rolling his eyes and taking in the vessel with obvious admiration. "How much did it cost you to make this?"

"Actually, it’s free," Olaf replied cheerfully. "Because this ship was created by Elsa’s magic!"

"You can talk? How can a snowman talk?" the man asked, astonished.

"I was created by Elsa’s magic too!" Olaf said proudly. "By the way, I’m Olaf, and I like warm hugs."

Answering Halor, Olaf turned to each of them and introduced them one by one.

"This is Elsa, the former Queen of Arendelle, who can create and control snow and ice. This is Anna, the current Queen of Arendelle. And this is Kristoff, Anna’s husband—and this adorable reindeer is Sven."

"You’re from Arendelle?" Halor asked, his eyes lighting up. "I often trade with a man named Oaken there too. He’s been a close counterpart of mine for many years."

"We do know Oaken," Anna said with a smile. "He has a famous sauna that only opens in winter. Everyone in Arendelle knows him."

"Maybe I should go there and try it sometime," Halor said with a giggle.

"And may we know your name, mister?" Olaf asked politely, tilting his head curiously.

Halor then pulled out a piece of paper and held it up for them to see. Written clearly on it was the line: East Spania Co., Ltd.

"Allow me to introduce myself," he said with a confident smile. "My name is Halor! I’m the captain—and also the owner—of the East Spania Commercial Company. We’ve traded with kingdoms across the world since the era of the Valtari Empire, earning a great deal of credibility with governments everywhere."

"What are you doing here, Halor?" Anna asked, curiosity piqued.

"I’m on my way to the Duchy of Weselton to deliver some cargo. And you? Are you coming to see Alasadir?"

"Yes," Elsa replied. "We have some questions we need answered by him."

"Well, he’s rather withdrawn, you know," Halor said, shaking his head. "Even if you make it to his place, I can assure you he won’t be happy at all. I’ve been driven out several times myself when I went there to sell goods."

"We know that," Anna said firmly, determination in her eyes. "But we must see him nonetheless. Only then can we find the answers we seek."

Halor nodded thoughtfully, a sudden idea crossing his mind. "We’re already here anyway," he said. "Why don’t you come aboard my ship? I can take you to where Alasadir is."

"Oh! I’m grateful for your kindness," Elsa said, giving a wry smile. "But we really…"

Before Elsa could finish, Halor spoke up, cutting her off:

"My ship is fully stocked with food, drinks, medicine, clothes, and all kinds of hiking supplies. I can sell them to you at half the original price, thanks to the many tax incentives Arendelle has given our company over the past ten years."

Hearing this, everyone turned to Elsa, urging her to let them board Halor’s ship. The supplies provided by the Northuldra people had run out, and they needed someone who knew these waters—and this island—well.

With no better option, Elsa created a shimmering ice staircase, and she, along with the others, stepped off the ice vessel to board Halor’s ship. Halor watched in awe, admiration shining in his eyes, and he praised Elsa wholeheartedly for her skill and magic.

"Apart from Alasadir, this is the first time I’ve seen anyone else use magic!"

"Elsa can do many things, not just magic," Olaf said proudly.

The ship itself looked like any other vessel at first glance, with towering wooden masts so wide that it would take four men to wrap their arms around one completely. At the rear, two staircases led up to the rudder, beneath which lay a room filled with tables, maps, books, and two lanterns—one of which Halor was lighting. On the stem of the ship, several barrels of wine were stacked alongside ropes for stretching the sails. In the middle of the deck, a pulley system stood ready to lift the anchor, while a few miscellaneous items were scattered here and there.

"There's only you on this ship, isn’t it, Halor?" Anna asked.

"Of course!"

"So that means you’re alone—guiding the ship, adjusting the sails, inspecting everything, and loading and unloading cargo as well?" Kristoff exclaimed. "Are you omnipotent?"

"I’m neither omnipotent nor divine. I’ve managed this ship myself for decades, so hiring a crew would just be a waste of money. Come on, let’s hurry and eat before the food gets cold!"

They dined on simple fare—bread, cheese, grape juice, and dried shark meat. This latter, in particular, proved almost impossible to eat, not only because of its unappetizing appearance but also due to the pungent, stomach-turning smell. Halor, however, ate with evident delight, perhaps a reflection of the culinary customs of his homeland. After the meal, Halor guided the vessel toward the fjord ahead and dropped anchor. Along the shoreline, a few makeshift timber huts had been set up, providing shelter from the bitter Arctic cold and the howling winds. Though twilight was just beginning to settle, they entered the huts to rest.

Meanwhile, atop a towering mountain whose summit was split into three jagged peaks, a figure cloaked in black. He wore a crown and held a staff in one hand, a glass of wine in the other, sipping calmly.

"Skulum vér banið þeim, Konungr?" (Should we kill them all, Your Majesty?) A maid voice sounds next to him.

"Sounds great, though. But Halor is with them, so if we kill them, who will sell us the necessities? Moreover… now the Great Emperor of the Hráþarr has marched south. The one whom we call the King of Kings has risen."

Then a swelling wave of hatred swept through him, and his voice dropped into a deeper, more thunderous register:

"And his corpse shall be crushed under my hands!"

Chapter Text

Even though in summer the morning comes super early in the Arctic, Kristoff, because he thought there wasn't much time left and it was ready for them to head to the mountain, woke everyone up. After a while of stretching their shoulders, short and long yawns, and correcting their spine, they began to come to Alasadir's premises.

They walked along a fast-flowing river in the middle of a U-shaped valley formed by mountain peaks poking straight into a sky full of fog and clouds. These mountains have existed for tens of millions of years and have been being gradually eroded by glaciers, creating the iconic shape of this Arctic terrain. The ground they were walking on is sand lying in the riverbed because the river level wasn’t rising at this time. On the other side of the river, there were boulders scattered at the foot of a towering and steep cliff, which had been originally part of the other peaks but, due to the erosion caused by the wind, had separated and rolled along the ridge into the river.

Then the sandy ground under their feet was gradually replaced by an area full of small pebbles, which made them spend more stamina to walk. In front of them, there was a creek they had to cross because on the other side lay a rocky flat. To their left, a small stream from a glacier between two peaks fed the river. In the distance, they could also see the shape of a lake in the middle of a moraine. On the right side of that lake, there was a very unusual peak with a flat top and a fairly straight slope.

"Should we cross the river?" Anna asked. "The water level isn't high at the moment, and walking on the pebbles is quite exhausting for me."

"There are often rockfalls on that side," Halor said. "If you go there, it's like looking for death yourself. I'm sure no one wants to be crushed by a rock as huge as giant beasts."

As soon as Halor finished speaking, a boulder suddenly rolled down from above and crushed a smaller rock. Anna witnessed this and immediately let go of the thought of crossing the river.

Fortunately, Halor had already given them boots; otherwise, their feet would have been frozen like ice. They struggled to go through the creek because the water was so cold that their ankles seemed frozen, and then continued toward the lake in a northward direction. During the hike, they rested and had lunch on a large rock by the riverbank. Their lunch consisted of fish and wild berries they had picked up last night. They ate while enjoying the majestic landscape of this place: they were in the middle of a valley between two rock mountains in the Arctic, and there were geese swimming in the river, with patches of flowers growing on the ground and on the moist rocks, covering the ground with a beautiful red color. Olaf ran to the geese but accidentally frightened them, and they flew away.

"This place isn't so bad," Anna said. "Just look around—glaciers, streams, rivers, mountain peaks, flowers, and geese. Isn't everything very wild?"

Kristoff pointed to Sven walking leisurely across the tundra.

"After returning, we should come here more often. I'm pretty sure the reindeer of the Northuldra will love this place."

Halor now began to ask a series of questions that he had been wanting to ask ever since he met Elsa and the others:

"So you really have the power to create ice and snow? Were you born with it, or did you learn it from somebody?"

"I've been able to do that since I was born," Elsa replied. "And a troll told me that my power would only grow stronger and stronger."

"That you can create an eternal winter?"

As soon as she heard this, Elsa suddenly remembered her escape to the north mountain on the day she had been crowned Queen of Arendelle. At that time, she had accidentally engulfed Arendelle in deep snow in the middle of summer, and everything had been a huge mess. Anna knew this and replied to Halor on behalf of her sister:

"We haven't known this yet, but I can make sure that Elsa's magic is incredibly powerful..."

"And also hiding beauty," Kristoff interjected. "I still remember the ice palace she created—it was so spectacular that it almost made me cry."

Halor laughed and ate another berry.

"However, our parents had been wanting to find the origin of my power to help me control it," Elsa said, turning towards the Dark Sea. "They risked going very far north, towards Ahtohallan, but then..."

"Then what?" Halor asked.

Neither Elsa nor Anna said a word, only sighing and turning their eyes to the east, which confused Halor. Kristoff had to answer him:

"They got caught in a huge storm and drowned in the sea..."

Halor figured it out now and felt remorse for digging too deep into the matter.

"Oh! I'm sorry! It seems I've questioned too much."

"It's OK," Elsa said sorrowfully. "It's already past."

Anna immediately changed the subject:

"Hey Halor! Do you have a family or any children?"

Halor felt a little hesitant at the question, making them suspicious.

"I'm still single," he replied. "Since I'm running the company on my own, I don't have time to find the other half of my life, even though I've been thinking about it seriously day and night."

"How old are you this year, Halor?" Olaf asked.

"I'm 43."

"Then you'd better get married, or you will miss a good opportunity, and even if you want to, you won't be able to do so ever after. This charming appearance of yours will soon be eaten away by time."

Halor chortled as if he had just heard the funniest thing he had ever heard.

They chatted for a while and then continued their hike toward the flat-peak mountain. They walked up a narrow trail along the side of a sand dune and headed down to the moraine. The river below them was still flowing strongly, and they saw a waterfall from the glacier between two peaks feeding the lake. They struggled to walk along the rough rock path, which seemed ready to shift at any moment, causing them to slip and fall onto the stone ground below—and, of course, they didn't want to land in such a painful way.

Going through a fairly wide flat, they reached the moraine. It was made of hard rocks and unbelievably steep, so much so that they wondered if there was another path for them to take.

"Do we really have to climb this pile of rocks?" Anna wailed, as if she doesn't want to climb anymore.

"There's no other way," Halor reluctantly uttered. "No matter what, we must reach the lake before evening. Look up at the sky—night is falling."

Eventually, they had to step onto the moraine, and their gait was miserable. Anna slipped and fell several times, causing Kristoff to constantly turn around to help her up, indirectly slowing their pace significantly. Ahead, large rocks replaced the smaller ones on top of the moraine, making it even more challenging for them to take a step. Olaf and Sven stumbled several times, forcing Halor to walk behind the snowman to catch him if he stumbled again, while letting Elsa go first.

After a hard climb, they successfully reached the top of the moraine. In front of them lay a vast lake nestled between four peaks. The mountain with the flat peak on their right loomed over them, and the dusk adorned the white snow covering its peak with a brilliant orange. Other peaks, shrouded in fog, appeared in the distance, and a glacier lay between the flanks of the two peaks on their left. Beneath the glacier, a stream wound along the mountain slopes down to the lake. The shore of the lake consisted only of sand and rocks covered in moss.

"Maybe we'll spend the night next to the place opposite that flat-peak mountain," Halor said. "It's probably still a long way from here to the highest mountain we saw at the shoreline."

Then they climbed down the moraine and walked a little farther on the sandy ground around the lake, both walking while taking in the magnificent scenery around them—the high peaks looking down at them and the chilling water brushing their feet as they crossed the stream. They also found some caribou antlers, which sparked a debate about whether the animals had ever been in this place. Finally, when it was completely dark, they reached the opposite side of the flat-peak mountain. A few old wooden houses stood there, like the ones at the shoreline where Halor had anchored his ship. They didn't hesitate to go inside those cozy houses and lay down on the flat wooden floors.

"Today has really been an exhausting day, having to climb up and down!" Anna wailed. "I have no idea why someone would like to live in such a majestic but solitary place."

"Most people who live in the mountains just want to be alone," Kristoff said. "Just like Elsa used to."

"Kristoff!" Anna changed her voice as if she was scolding the blonde guy. "We promised we would never talk about it again."

"It's OK," Elsa replied with a grin. "I no longer care about that."

"Let's close this topic. The problem is, what are we going to do now when we see Alasadir? How do we know if he has any evil intentions against us, or if he has already sided with Vegrandór?"

When Halor heard this, he sat up and questioned them:

"Vegrandór? Isn't that the real name of the Emperor of Ruins? How do you guys know about this?"

"We're acquainted with the Northuldra people. It's their leader who told us about him and about Alasadir as well. And we're here to find answers to Elsa's nightmares, as he keeps infiltrating them."

"But we're afraid that Alasadir has already joined his side," Elsa said to Halor. "Because I heard that he was also fiercely loyal to the Valtari Empire."

"He won’t ever join Vegrandór," Halor immediately rejected. "I know that there has been a conflict between the two of them that caused them to part ways, and thus the relationship between them completely broke off."

They were extremely shocked when they heard this information from Halor.

"Do you know what that was? And how did it happen?" Olaf asked.

"I have no idea." Halor replied. "Alasadir never told me anything about it. Moreover, I'm a businessman, not an officer. I'm only here to trade, not to investigate political conflicts."

Kristoff turned to Olaf. "Of course, you have to ask Alasadir directly to find out. Not all events are recorded by historians."

Then Elsa stood up and gave a long yawn as if to indicate them that it was time for her to sleep.

"I gotta sleep. You guys just keep talking."

"Then I'm gonna take a sleep too." Kristoff said and leant back against the corner of the wall next to him. "Tomorrow will be a very long day."

"And I'll come and lie next to Sven." Olaf rested his head on the reindeer's warm fur now lying on the edge of the wall.

All of them laid down and fall asleep right away, too tired of moving on this Arctic terrain. Fierce winds blew outside, striking the walls of the house and causing it to shudder. Strangely, no sound penetrated inside to disturb their sleep, as if this house was completely soundproof.

In a dark place, the image of the house reflected in a basin of water on the ground, and a figure dressed in a black cloak watched it.

"Hversu skyldum vér þeim fagnaðr hǫfum, Konungr?" (How should we welcome them, Your Majesty?) A ghastly female voice mutters.

"My initial plan was to give each of them a gravestone right here… but now I have something much better."

"Hvat er þat, Konungr?" (What is it, Your Majesty?)

"They're here because of him, so he must be already knowing who they are. Therefore, I can use them first to get him rooted, and then, when he's slain, I shall kill them all!"

Chapter Text

The next day, the weather had improved dramatically. An azure sky stretched above, and no fog remained to obscure the peaks. The sun appeared, shining brightly, and its rays touched the gray rock slopes, lakes, and glaciers before them. Yesterday had been so dark that they couldn’t make out the mountains, but now they could see their strange and fascinating shapes clearly: one looked like a ball, another curved downward as if bowing its head, and a third was split into two parts. Olaf and Kristoff had argued that it must be two separate mountains, but from their perspective, it was impossible to know for sure.

"Today is going to be a wonderful day," Halor said confidently.

They took a deep breath, as if trying to draw the fresh, crisp air deep into their lungs. After a quick breakfast, they continued their hike toward the island's highest mountain.

They followed a trail that led across a moraine, and before them stretched a vast expanse of land blanketed in tundra. The gray rocky mountains to the left were bathed in sunlight, their features highlighted against the pale blue sky, while the peaks on the right revealed their sheer enormity, compelling them to look up in awe at the sunlit summits. The Arctic tundra valley before them extended all the way to a distant mountain.

"This place is truly magnificent!" Anna exclaimed. "The ground is a soft light green with hints of red—and it feels so soft underfoot."

No sooner had she finished speaking than her right leg sank suddenly, as if she had stepped into quicksand or a hidden pond. Kristoff rushed to help, pulling her leg free.

"Thanks, honey!" Anna said, planting a quick kiss on his lips.

"Everyone, remember to watch your steps!" Halor warned. "Although it looks like grass, there are many bogs underneath. This Arctic region has plenty of places like that to prevent the water from freezing."

"Maybe we should head to the left, where there are more stones," Elsa suggested. "It’s a bit tricky to move, but at least we won’t have to worry about sinking."

They carefully made their way to the left, where the ground was strewn with stones. Beside them, another river flowed down from a distant mountain. Looking closely, it was likely the highest peak on the island—their ultimate destination.

"It's there!" Halor exclaimed. "That’s where Alasadir is staying."

"Are you sure about that, Halor?" Anna asked.

"He's right, Anna," Elsa interjected. "I can sense a gigantic power there. That mountain is definitely where Alasadir resides."

"You can feel his power from all the way over here?" Anna exclaimed in surprise.

"Then it proves he’s quite powerful," Kristoff said, his tone cautious. "We’ll need to be extremely careful when we meet him."

They left the rocky area by the river as the water level began to rise and continued walking across the mossy terrain dotted with flowers and Arctic tundra. This part of the trail was easier than the boggy area they had crossed earlier—the soil was firmer, and a clear path guided their steps. To their left rose a tall gray mountain, bathed in sunlight, standing majestically beneath the azure sky, filling them with awe.

"Alasadir is wise to live on this island," Kristoff remarked. "The landscape here brings such serenity; it feels as if the mind itself is healed. I’ve only been walking for a little more than a day, yet my soul feels cleansed."

"The more I explore this place, the more I see that the scenery is strange, yet incredible," Olaf added. "It’s a pity there’s nothing like this in Arendelle."

"On our days off, we could sail here," Anna said. "But the question is whether you two would agree to walk all the way from the coast..."

"Shhh!" Halor suddenly motioned for everyone to be quiet.

"What's wrong?" Kristoff whispered.

"Something is coming..."

No sooner had he finished speaking than a polar bear appeared before them. It seemed unaware of their presence, heading down to the creek to drink or catch fish. Soon, more polar bear cubs emerged, cautiously making their way into view.

"They're so cute!" Olaf exclaimed. "I want to hug them so tightly!"

Unable to resist, the snowman rushed forward and scooped up a baby polar bear. The little bear thrashed its legs against his face, but Olaf refused to let go. Suddenly, the polar bear’s mother appeared, glaring fiercely as she approached him.

"Is that your mother? Cute little fellas!" Olaf said in his sweet, oblivious voice.

"Get back here, Olaf!" Anna shouted in panic. "She's trying to hurt you!"

But it was too late. The mother bear swiped one of her massive front paws, knocking Olaf off balance and sending him tumbling. The baby polar bear slipped free, and Olaf’s body went sprawling across the ground.

"I'm fine!" Olaf giggled, lying on the snow. "Can someone hold my body?"

Elsa placed a hand on her forehead and shook her head, speechless at the situation, while Halor laughed heartily, as if he had never seen such a ridiculous snowman. Kristoff, once again, had to reattach Olaf’s head to his body after the mother bear had left with her cubs.

"Don’t you have somewhere else to be a nitwit?" Kristoff grumbled.

"Not until I get back," Olaf replied, still blissfully naïve.

They continued their journey until high noon, finally reaching the base of the mountain. The pale gray, pointed, snow-capped peak towered above them, and in the distance, they spotted a flock of musk oxen moving across the valley they had traversed. They paused for lunch, taking in the spectacular scenery before resuming their trek up the mountain.

The path to the peak was steadily steep, blanketed with ice, snow, lichen, and herbaceous plants—iconic life forms of the Arctic. No trees could grow on this rocky, moss-covered ground, and even if one did, it would never withstand the harsh cold year-round.

But it wasn’t just rocks, ice, and lichens that caught their eyes. As they ascended, an immense glacier wound its way between the slopes, while a waterfall snaked through the rocks, feeding the river they had passed earlier. Everyone stood in awe, marveling at the scene. Perhaps this glacier had existed for centuries, dating back to the Seventy Years' War between the northern races.

"Wow!" Kristoff gasped. "If I owned this glacier, I’d harvest ice all year and make a fortune."

"I wonder what it feels like to slide on it?" Olaf said, practically vibrating with excitement at the thought.

"Guys!" Anna called, pointing ahead. "There’s a castle over there!"

They turned to the right and saw a massive black castle, its windows glowing with light. Surrounding it was an area that resembled a garden, enclosed by imposing black stone walls.

"So we’ve come to the right place," Kristoff said. "Just by crossing this glacier, we’ll reach Alasadir’s domain."

"But this glacier is even bigger than the one in Ahtohallan!" Elsa said, her voice tinged with worry. "I’m not joking. Crossing it will be a real challenge."

"If you go a little further, you’ll see a high isthmus stretching across the glacier," Halor replied casually. "We can pass through it to get to the other side."

They continued walking for another hour until they reached a vast stretch of land in the middle of the glacier, just as Halor had said. Then they made their way across the isthmus to the land beyond. The crossing took a long time—the terrain was littered with boulders, and the lack of flat ground made them stumble repeatedly. By the time they finally reached the other side, their bodies ached from the effort.

"I swear I’ll never set foot in this godforsaken place again," Kristoff said angrily. "We’re cold, hungry, and now we have to endure this… I don’t even know what to say."

Sven gave Kristoff a gentle lick on the face, tickling him, but it seemed to ease his discomfort just a little.

"Thanks, buddy!" Kristoff said, grinning.

Kristoff turned to see Anna trudging along, each step heavy with effort. He realized she was pushing through the pain to keep moving. Without hesitation, he lifted her and placed her on Sven’s back.

"What are you doing, Kristoff?" Anna asked, surprised.

"You need to conserve your strength, Anna," Kristoff said. "The castle is still far ahead."

Though he admired Anna’s perseverance and willpower, this was unfamiliar and dangerous land, and the chance of turning back safely was uncertain. He knew Anna understood that time was running out and that the Northuldra—or even Arendelle—might already be under attack by Vegrandór’s army. Yet they needed to save their strength for the encounter with one of the most powerful beings in the North.

Anna made no objection. She knew Kristoff cared for her deeply and would help whenever she was in difficulty. After all, her legs were exhausted from the long trek from the shoreline, and it was time to give them a well-earned rest.

But the scene before them offered no sense of safety; on the contrary, it magnified their fear many times over.

"Here we are!" Halor said. "Welcome to Alasadir’s domain!"

They stopped before a gate that looked long abandoned and half-ruined. What they had thought was a garden surrounding the castle was, in fact, something far more sinister: a graveyard. Cold gravestones jutted from the snow, with winding black paths weaving between them, stretching all the way to the castle’s base. Runes were carved into the surfaces of the stones. High stakes with hanging corpses swayed in the frigid wind; the Arctic cold had preserved them, making their forms eerily recognizable, and the air was thick with the stench of decay. The castle itself loomed above, a dark silhouette radiating a chilling aura. The wind howled through its walls, adding to the terror of the scene and sending goosebumps crawling up their spines.

"What has Alasadir turned this place into?" Kristoff exclaimed in disbelief. "The more picturesque the landscapes out there were, the more this place feels like a hellhole. I don’t even know if he’s gone mad."

"Who’s that over there?" Olaf asked, pointing to a figure standing beside a tall tomb.

"Is… is that…" Anna stammered, her voice trembling.

The figure was tall, gripping a staff with a crescent-shaped head. He wore a black cloak, and a crown atop his head radiated Scheele’s green light. Beneath the cloak, a fine wool tunic bordered with white embroidered silk was visible—plain and unadorned, just like the cloak. On his feet were simple black cloth boots.

"It’s him!" Halor whispered. "Alasadir…"

They mustered their courage and followed the nearest trail toward Alasadir, their eyes fixed solely on him. Yet he seemed completely unaffected by their presence, staring intently at two graves before him, ignoring them entirely. His face was round, framed by bushy eyebrows, a mole behind his right eyebrow, and a long beard. Anger and sorrow mingled in his gaze.

"Are you Alasadir?" Elsa called out.

Still, he did not answer.

Then, a maid’s voice echoed suddenly, sending a wave of panic through the group.

"Ek... skynja... hræzluna!" (I... sense... fear!)

"Where did that voice come from?" Olaf asked Halor.

"How should I know?" Halor replied shortly.

Elsa tried once more to speak to Alasadir.

"We come from the Enchanted Forest of the Northuldra people," she said. "We’ve come hoping you can help us."

Still, he did not respond.

"Is he deaf?" Olaf whispered, tilting his head. "Or mute? Or does he just not know how to answer?"

But at last, Alasadir spoke—though what he said was far from the answer they hoped for. His voice was impossibly deep, as dreadful and resonant as Vegrandór’s.

"My graveyard is full enough to bury all of you," he rumbled. "Leave now, before I feed your bodies to the polar bears and seal your souls in the void."

At that moment, Olaf stepped forward and attempted to introduce himself—using the exact same cheerful greeting he had used when they first met the Northuldra in the Enchanted Forest. But once again, it had no effect.

"Please, help us!" Elsa pleaded, her voice trembling. "Vegrandór has risen, and he is preparing to attack the people of Arendelle and the Northuldra. If not for our sake… then please, help them for the sake of our people."

Suddenly, Alasadir struck his staff against the ground, and a low, vibrating hum echoed through the air.

"Those Northuldra rats should have been exterminated long ago," he growled, staring down at them. "The fact that they weren’t slaughtered by that fool Runeard was a great blessing from the Almighty. And the trash in Arendelle as well. If Vegrandór doesn’t destroy them, someone else will."

Hearing this, Anna felt as if her very sense of pride had been trampled. She had never heard anyone refer to the Arendellians as garbage in such a brazen manner. Instincts honed from years as a queen surged within her. She stepped forward, her gaze sharp, and bristled at Alasadir.

"Excuse me! My people are not garbage! What do you know of them that you dare judge them so rudely?"

Alasadir then slowly turns his head towards Anna and says:

"Yet do I know, you insolent brat! They are the disgusting two-faced, most disgusting among all of the northern races. I've been wanting to annihilate them like killing vermin for a long time. Now get out! Otherwise I'll hang your corpses like the ones you see at the gates, and let the crows peck every piece of your flesh."

"Yeah! So what do you call someone who killed his own brother?" Anna boils with rage.

Suddenly, the entire graveyard began to quake, draining the color from their faces. The sun dimmed without warning, and far above, on the newly risen moon, three dark holes formed—two at the top and one below—shaped eerily like a human face, each rimmed with jagged, thorn‑like teeth. From beneath the graves, countless souls surged upward, each one clutching a sword, spear, or hammer. The corpses that had hung from the gallows at the gate now dropped to the ground and lurched toward Alasadir. Horror twisted in every direction; a suffocating terror swallowed the space around them.

"I think you provoked him, Anna…" Kristoff whispered.

Elsa saw immediately that if the situation continued to escalate, they would all be in grave danger. Desperation tightening in her chest, she dropped to her knees before Alasadir.

"My lord, please—calm yourself!" she pleaded. "I apologize on my sister’s behalf, and I beg you to forgive her for what she said."

"I have no idea what’s going on between you all…" Halor muttered, glancing uneasily between them. "…but it seems you haven’t changed at all since I last saw you, Alasadir."

For a brief moment, Alasadir went still. His gaze settled on Anna, and something flickered behind his eyes—something like the ghost of a memory he thought he had lost long ago. He exhaled slowly, a sharp, weary sound.

"You may deserve death, but not by my hand."

Then Alasadir commanded the souls to return to their graves, and slowly, the moon returned to its normal. Yet the terror of what they had just witnessed lingered, heavy in the air. Their bodies still trembled, and their hearts raced—especially Anna’s.

"Vegrandór vár ríkt kaiseri..." "(Vegrandór was a great Emperor…)" The maid’s voice echoed once more, sending a fresh wave of fear through them.

"And also a fool," Alasadir hissed.

Alasadir’s eyes snapped to Halor, his words tumbling out so rapidly that Halor barely had a chance to respond.

"What are you doing here? Didn’t I buy from you last time? We agreed that I would purchase your food only once every half-year, didn’t we? The appointment hasn’t come yet, so why are you here? You helped them get here, didn’t you?"

Halor took a deep breath and replied deliberately, choosing his words carefully.

"Let me put it simply: I was passing through this island on my way to the Duchy of Weselton when I came across them. They said they needed your help, so I led them here and provided them with necessities and other items."

Then Halor suddenly seemed to remember something. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a glass jar containing a small, spherical object the size of a ping‑pong ball. He held it out to Alasadir.

"I almost forgot! Here’s the anti-internal-bleeding medicine you ordered," he said.

Alasadir accepted the jar and, in return, handed Halor a silk bag. Inside, ancient gold coins gleamed—treasures of considerable value even now. He exhaled slowly, then turned his gaze toward Elsa, Anna, Kristoff, Olaf, and Sven. For the first time, they caught a glimpse beneath his cloak: a fierce, commanding face framed by a snow‑white beard. Yet something was horribly unsettling—one of his eyes was missing.

"There is a place you must go before I can help you," Alasadir said. "Only then will you know the whole truth."

"Where?" Elsa asked.

"Vegrandór’s tomb."

"Vegrandór’s tomb?" Anna echoed in shock. "Is it on this island?"

"No."

"Then where is it?" Elsa pressed. "And what’s there?"

"It lies far, far from here," Alasadir replied. "If you attempt to reach it with your stomachs as empty as they are now, you’ll die of starvation long before you arrive."

They realized they hadn’t eaten anything since noon, and darkness had already fallen. Despite a deep sense of unease, they had no choice but to follow Alasadir into the castle. Sven remained outside, his large eyes scanning the shadows.

They ascended a towering staircase and stopped before a wide landing, surrounded by figures frozen in stone—people twisted in silent screams, clinging desperately as if to life itself. The sight was haunting, almost unbearably eerie.

"These… sculptures are terrifying," Olaf said, his usual cheer faltering. "Your taste in art is… really weird, Alasadir."

"They are not sculptures," Alasadir corrected, his voice low and solemn. "They are the innocent, driven to death by our so-called ‘Great Emperor’."

"It sounds so heartbreaking," Anna murmured. "What happened to them… after all?"

Alasadir remained silent, then slowly pushed open the great iron door of the castle, and they stepped inside. Though the exterior had seemed terrifying, the interior was surprisingly ordinary—reminiscent of castles from other kingdoms. The hall was spacious, dominated by a grand staircase leading to the upper floor. Two towering pillars separated the terrace from the dome above, and along the sides of the walls stood small wooden tables, carefully arranged. Upon them rested vases, cups, books, bottles of wine, candle holders, and even glittering pieces of jewelry.

Olaf’s eyes landed on a quartz crystal, and he reached out as if to touch it. Suddenly, Alasadir’s head snapped toward the snowman.

"Touch it," he warned, "and you will instantly dissolve into a puddle of dirty water. Not even the Fifth Spirit could save you. I will not have my house contaminated by unclean spirits."

"Pardon me, but I do have a name!" Elsa interjected, her voice firm. "And I remember that Olaf told you when we were out there."

"I remember only the names of two in this world," Alasadir replied gruffly. "First, my brother—the only one who ever gave me anything. Second, Vegrandór—he took it all."

Kristoff frowned, stepping forward. "What really happened between you and Vegrandór? Why have you cursed him all this time? I thought you two were close."

Alasadir suddenly stopped walking, a wave of fury surging through him so violently that the entire castle trembled. They could hear his breaths—deep, harsh, almost inhuman.

"He killed all of my relatives," Alasadir growled, "just to satisfy his own bottomless hunger… And it was he who caused Haskívarr to die a wrongful death."

"Who?" Halor asked quietly.

"That is why…" Alasadir turned, his eyes blazing as he glared at them. "…I must tear him apart—to avenge my own blood, and the Hráþarr people who drowned at the bottom of the frozen sea."

A suffocating tension filled the corridor. They could feel a tremendous surge of power radiating from Alasadir—so immense that their skin prickled. Just as Yelana and Pabbie had warned: Alasadir alone was capable of destroying all five spirits. Instinctively, they stepped back, swallowing hard.

But then, just as abruptly, the castle stilled. Alasadir turned away, as though forcing the rage back into the depths of his heart. He continued walking, and they followed him to the end of the corridor, where they entered the dining room. Inside stood a long table, and in the fireplace, dying embers flickered and danced across the stone floor. Candle holders glowed warmly, illuminating platters of bread, cheese, potatoes, carrots, lamb, and a bottle of well-aged wine. Kristoff immediately grabbed a handful of carrots and hurried them to Sven outside, while the others quietly took their seats at the table.

While they were eating, Elsa looked toward Alasadir and asked:

"Alasadir… earlier you mentioned our grandfather—King Runeard. Did he ever come here to see you?"

"Indeed," Alasadir replied, chewing calmly. "When he came, he said almost exactly what you said earlier in my yard. Except he made no mention of Vegrandór."

Elsa leaned in slightly. "So what did he say?"

"He asked me for information," Alasadir answered curtly. "And as for what that information was… I will not reveal it."

Elsa asked no further questions after hearing his answer. Instead, she returned to the matter at hand.

"So… how can we get to Vegrandór’s tomb?"

Alasadir swallowed a piece of bread before replying:

"His tomb lies quite close to Ahtohallan. If you were to sail from here, it would take far too long—four days at the very least. That is why I will lead you there myself."

Halor frowned. "But how can you take them there when you don’t have any ships?"

Alasadir smirked. "Using a ship to cross the Dark Sea is nothing short of suicide. I have a far better way to reach it."

"And what’s really there?" Anna asked. "If Vegrandór has returned, then his tomb must be empty now."

"I truly don’t understand how someone like you became a queen," Alasadir said with a pointed sneer. "If not for the royal blood in your veins, you would’ve had a grave here long ago."

Anna stiffened, frustration flaring hot in her chest. She tore the piece of bread in her hand with a sharp, decisive motion, startling Olaf beside her. Kristoff noticed immediately and leaned in to calm her.

"Are you still incapable of setting your ego aside for even a minute, Alasadir?" Halor muttered in irritation.

Alasadir didn’t answer. He simply looked away, as if the question itself wasn’t worth acknowledging.

"So what exactly is there that you want us to know?" Elsa asked.

"Everything you want to know… and need to know."

Then, without warning, Alasadir rose from the table and strode toward the door, catching them off guard.

"Keep filling your bellies," he said. "I’m full, so I’ll retire for the night. I’ve already instructed my servants to prepare two bedrooms for you at the end of this corridor. Tomorrow morning, after breakfast, we head to the east coast. Rest in peace."

With that, Alasadir closed the door behind him.

"Rest in peace?" Olaf blinked in confusion. "No one has ever said that before bedtime."

"Just ignore it," Halor sighed. "We’re all exhausted today. I just want to lie on a warm, comfortable bed."

"Hey… don’t tell me you and I are sharing a room again, Kristoff!" Olaf said awkwardly.

"Men and women should stay separate in a dignified manner," Kristoff replied. "That’s how we do it in Arendelle. I’ll go check on Sven for a bit. Good night, everyone! Anna! Elsa! Halor!"

With that, Kristoff stepped out of the dining room and closed the door behind him. Olaf shuffled back to the table and sat down beside Elsa.

"He's the rudest person I've ever met!" Anna burst out. "Would he choke if he didn’t insult me at every meal?"

"That’s always been his personality," Halor said casually. "His ego is as large as a mountain. He loves talking about lofty things no one else understands, just so he can show off."

"I think he’s carrying his own suffering," Elsa murmured. "There must be a reason he turned out like this. And besides… if he truly didn’t want us here, would we be sitting at his table? Maybe tomorrow we’ll understand everything."

"I’m curious what Vegrandór’s tomb looks like…" Olaf wondered aloud. "It must be a big, dark, gloomy place."

"Maybe…" Elsa answered vaguely.

Then Elsa left the dining room with Anna and Olaf, and they headed to the bedrooms. They climbed into bed, lay down, and fell asleep almost instantly, worn out from the long and exhausting day. A while later, Kristoff also returned to his room and finally enjoyed a proper night’s rest for the first time since they left the Northuldra’s lands.

Meanwhile, Alasadir sat alone before the fireplace in his chamber. His expression was heavy, shadowed by sorrow. In his hand, he held a small oval portrait—inside it, the image of a young man with gray hair, whose face resembled what Alasadir must have looked like in his youth.

"Hann mjǫk á harmfullum hátt dó..." (He died in a tragical way) A maid voice mutters.

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A tear slides down from Alasadir’s one remaining, wrath-filled eye.

“What he did to us…We shall pay him back—with interest.”

Chapter Text

The next day, they woke while it was still dark—not because the sun hadn’t risen, but because a massive, dark cloud hung over the castle. They went to the dining room for breakfast, but Alasadir was nowhere to be seen. Only bread, butter, and a pot of hot soup waited on the table. They assumed he had already eaten and gone out on some errand. It didn’t bother them much, so they sat down and filled their stomachs.

Suddenly, Alasadir appeared in the doorway, clad in a traveling cloak and gripping his staff. Just as they had guessed, he had been gone somewhere.

"Where did you go, Alasadir?" Kristoff asked, still chewing his food.

"Take care of the front," Alasadir replied curtly.

"Take care of what?" Olaf tilted his head, clearly confused.

"Things against the behind," Alasadir said, his tone as deadpan as ever.

"Just tell us exactly," Halor urged.

"I went to check the east coast of the island," Alasadir replied. "And things are far more complicated there than I expected."

They exchanged confused looks, still unsure what he meant.

"Is something wrong with that place?" Elsa asked.

"See for yourselves and you’ll understand," Alasadir said. "Even if I tried to explain now, you wouldn’t grasp it clearly. We leave within half an hour. Hurry and get ready, then gather at the front gate."

"'We'?" Halor asked. "Does that include me? Am I coming with you?"

"If you want," Alasadir replied, his voice cold. "But I won’t guarantee you’ll make it out alive."

"Maybe I’ll come along," Halor said with a shrug. "Even if I reach the Duchy of Weselton too soon, I’d have nothing to do there anyway—except drink and stir up chaos with the sea rats."

They hurried to get ready, and exactly half an hour later, they were all standing in front of the massive gate. From the distance, a chariot pulled by giant goats approached. The chariot was made of taiga wood and had no roof, but inside were soft cushions and a small partition for storage. Its four wheels were as large as the goats themselves, reinforced with iron along the rims and frames.

"First, we’ll go to the east coast with this chariot," Alasadir said. "Then I will take you down into the sea to Vegrandór’s tomb."

"What do you mean?" Anna asked. "How can we go down into the sea?"

"Stop asking and listen!" Alasadir snapped. "I’ve made all the preparations. You only need to do one thing: stay quiet and don’t make any unnecessary noise. Understand?"

"Yeah, yeah!" Anna said with a wry smile. "Got it, Mr. Serious."

Alasadir sighed and turned away, as if he didn’t care, before stepping into the chariot with the others—everyone except Halor. Feeling carsick, Halor climbed onto Sven’s back, and the reindeer, surprisingly, allowed the stranger to sit.

The chariot moved smoothly despite the uneven terrain of bogs, stones, and moraines, and its speed never faltered. The giant goats, with their immense strength, pulled the vehicle through the tundra and rugged passes at such a terrifying pace that even Sven—renowned as the fastest reindeer in Arendelle—could only watch them surge ahead.

"Can you slow down a bit, Alasadir?" Anna shouted, shivering as she hugged herself. "The wind is freezing!"

"We’re not there yet! Hold on a little longer," Alasadir replied curtly.

"I’ve never ridden a chariot this fast!" Olaf yelled, flailing his arms. "I feel like my whole body is about to be blown away!"

It didn’t take long in the chariot before they reached the east coast of the island. Dark clouds obscured the sky, and the wind roared through the air, crashing into the ravines and making their ears ring. Yet the chariot did not slow down; if anything, it pressed forward even faster.

"Stop, Alasadir!" Elsa shouted. "Isn’t this a dead end? There’s nothing but the sea ahead!"

"Just wait," he replied casually. "I’m going to activate Ljóssarbrúin. It will take us straight to Vegrandór’s tomb."

"I’m finding this weirder and weirder," Kristoff muttered to Sven, Olaf, and Halor.

Then Alasadir stood, his staff glowing as he pointed directly toward the chariot’s path. Suddenly, a huge white beam shot out, like a second sun the size of a balloon, illuminating the sea. A snow-white bridge emerged before them, making everyone gasp in amazement. Above it stretched a glass canopy, shimmering in all colors. The chariot bumped slightly over a ledge at the start of the bridge but then ran steadily across the pristine white surface, unshaken by the fury of the Dark Sea.

"Please tell me this is just a dream," Kristoff muttered, dumbfounded. "Wait—nope! Even my wildest dreams could never be like this."

"You're not the only one," Olaf chimed in, eyes wide with awe.

Elsa and Anna turned to Alasadir. "What is this bridge, really? Did you create it?"

"Of course!" he said with a smirk. "This is Ljóssarbrúin—the Bridge of Light. I made it to allow easy access to Ahtohallan and the other cities of the Valtari Empire, including Vegrandór’s tomb. Even he didn’t know it existed."

"It looks incredible!" Halor exclaimed. "You truly are a genius, Alasadir!"

Suddenly, the sea surged, threatening to engulf them. Yet strangely, not a single drop of water entered the glass canopy—they remained completely dry, protected from the rising waves. Outside, the water level continued to climb, swallowing everything in its path, plunging them into a terrifying darkness as the fury of the Dark Sea consumed the world around the bridge.

Alasadir illuminated the tip of his staff, casting a pale light that revealed nothing but the endless darkness of the Dark Sea around them.

"What is this, really, Alasadir?" Elsa asked, still bewildered. "Where exactly are we going?"

"Exactly!" Anna added. "I thought we were heading to Vegrandór’s tomb, not straight to the bottom of the sea. And what is this bridge, really?"

Alasadir’s lips curved into a faint, mocking smile. "You still don’t get it? Why do you think Vegrandór had no idea this bridge existed until now?"

In an instant, they realized his implication. The bridge had been deliberately built to reach the seabed, a clever trap to deceive Vegrandór. Alasadir, amused by their innocent confusion, struggled to suppress a laugh—like a child delighting in a harmless prank.

"I already told you—there’s still so much you don’t know," Alasadir said, his voice carrying a hint of conceit. "In a moment, you’ll be even more surprised when we reach Vegrandór’s tomb. Only there will all of you learn the truth."

They said nothing in reply, their eyes fixed on the glowing staff, the bridge beneath them, Alasadir himself, and the dark, unending waters that surrounded them.

Chapter Text

A few hours later, the waters surrounding the bridge gradually shifted from solid black to deep blue, signaling that their path was slowly ascending. Strange, enormous shapes lay scattered across the seabed, though no one could make out what they truly were—only that they were massive.

"What are those things?" Anna asked, her eyes narrowing with curiosity.

"Wait until we rise higher," Alasadir replied cryptically. "Then you’ll know."

It didn’t take long for them to find the answer. As the light from the white bridge reached farther, they finally saw the truth: they were surrounded by massive ruins submerged in the cold, dark water. Crumbling towers, castles, and civilian buildings stretched in every direction, inhabited by giant sea monsters and strange, otherworldly creatures. A towering castle loomed ahead, vastly different from the surrounding structures. Its ramparts were swallowed by darkness as they passed its watchtowers. Its windows glimmered in the flickering light of Alasadir’s staff, while massive fish swam around the castle as if inspecting the intruders daring to pass through their domain.

"Vegrandór skylda hefir þeim hirti..." (Vegrandór should have taken care of them…) The maid's voice echoed once more, making them all turn toward Alasadir in surprise.

"What do you expect from someone blind to power like him?" Alasadir replied coldly.

Anna glanced around, a shiver running down her spine. "What is this place really, Alasadir?"

"This used to be the lighthouse of the Dark North. It was called Skúfaborgin—meaning the City of Skuas—because before we arrived, it had been inhabited by the skuas."

Elsa frowned. "It used to be part of the empire engulfed by The Almighty, didn't it?"

Alasadir gave no answer.

Not only did they see ruins, but countless shipwrecks of all types and sizes littered the seabed. Some were broken in half, others punctured through the hull, and a few had crumbled so completely that their shapes were no longer recognizable. Even more unsettling were the skeletons scattered across the decks, inside cabins, and lying on the ocean floor, some being nibbled at by eerie fish. These were surely the people who had attempted to reach Ahtohallan but were swallowed by the Dark Sea.

Alasadir’s gaze fell on Elsa, as if he could sense what she was looking for. Rising, he grasped his staff and pointed it toward a stretch of water. Instantly, illuminated by its luminous glow, a series of skeletons appeared before them, clad in tattered capes and worn military uniforms.

"The corpses of those who tried to set foot in Ahtohallan are all here, atop the remains of the Hráþarr," Alasadir scorned. "How foolish they were—thinking it was some market they could enter and leave at will."

Suddenly, Anna and Elsa froze in shock. Before them, two skeletons clung to each other, dressed in garments identical to those once worn by King Agnarr and Queen Iduna—their parents. A surge of painful emotion coursed through them as they witnessed the tragic scene: their parents had died together, and in such a cruel, heart-wrenching way.

"Mama! Papa!" Anna could no longer hold back the tears, which streamed down her face like a waterfall.

Seeing this, Kristoff stepped forward and wrapped Anna in his arms. He could feel her sobs soaking into his chest, a raw warmth that neither comforted nor lightened the weight of grief. He remained silent, neither smiling nor speaking, simply holding her tightly and letting out a quiet sigh, as if to release the deep sorrow stirring within him. Though many years had passed since the funerals of King Agnarr and Queen Iduna, the memories of that day still lingered, etched in the hearts of both sisters. Kristoff let Anna cry, allowing her to confront the brutal reality before her and to tear down the walls shielding her from the full weight of loss.

Olaf, Sven, and Halor, deeply grieved by the scene, moved to Elsa’s side to offer comfort. Elsa herself was overwhelmed with sorrow, but for Anna’s sake, she forced herself to hide her emotions. When someone asked if she was alright, she gave only a brief, lifeless reply: "I'm fine.", then she turned away, keeping her pain locked inside. Alasadir remained silent, his eyes observing the chariot as it steadily rose through the dark, rolling waters. For a long moment, none of them spoke, the weight of grief and the haunting remnants of the past pressing down on everyone.

"We're almost there," Alasadir said as the waters around them began to brighten.

At the far end of the bridge, a towering cliff rose from the sea, its peak piercing above the water like a jagged mountain. The chariot entered a vast underwater cave and came to a halt. Alasadir switched off the light of his staff, plunging the interior into relative darkness.

"We've arrived. Get off the chariot and climb upward," he commanded.

One by one, they stepped out. Alasadir led the way, then carefully picked up Olaf. Halor followed, then Anna and Elsa, with Kristoff last, and finally Sven. Once everyone had safely reached the flat rock ground, Alasadir guided the chariot into a nearby hole and sealed the bridge behind them.

"We don't need it for now," he said curtly.

However, this place didn’t look like the destination they had in mind—only a dark, cold emptiness stretched around them. Alasadir pulled out a bottle of water that glowed with Scheele’s green light, illuminating the surrounding cave.

"Is this Vegrandór’s tomb?" Kristoff asked, his voice tinged with unease. "It sure is an unusual, dark place."

"This is just a normal cave," Alasadir replied. "There is still a long way to go before we reach his tomb."

"Then why didn’t we go straight there? Why come here first?" Halor asked.

"Just follow and you’ll see," Alasadir smirked. "Follow me!"

They followed him up a few rocks to the cave entrance. The scene outside was terrifying: countless ghosts drifted toward a cave beneath a towering rock mountain. Its snow-covered peak loomed above them, and jagged rocks tumbled down its slopes at a frightening speed. Nearby, another mountain resembled a volcano, molten lava gushing from its summit while thick smoke rose in a dense column, twisting into the sky.

"What on earth are they?" Halor asked. "There are too many to count—like stars scattered across the sky."

Alasadir smirked. "I think you already know the answer."

"They’re Vegrandór’s army!" Elsa said, shivering. "I can feel their aura… the same terrifying presence I sensed when Vegrandór appeared in my dreams."

"But… didn’t we already face his army on the way here?" Anna asked, frowning. "Why is there another army in this place?"

"You’ve never commanded an army in war, have you?" Alasadir asked.

"Well… not yet…" Anna replied, perplexed. "When my father and I ruled Arendelle, there was no war, so he never taught us how to lead a battle. Instead, he taught us to guide our people with kindness and to treat other kingdoms with friendship. At the same time, he reminded us to maintain the strength of Arendelle’s forces so they wouldn’t grow weak."

"Your father is indeed a wise monarch," Alasadir said. "Far wiser than that fool Runeard."

Then Alasadir raised his staff, using it to illuminate the area and explain.

"This place is what remains of the Varúð Plateau, which wasn’t submerged when the rest sank to the bottom of the sea," he said, pointing toward the land outside the cave. "Long ago, the people of the vassal kingdoms who revered Vegrandór buried him here."

"So…" Olaf said slowly, squinting. "That mountain is…"

"That," Alasadir said, frowning, "is where you want to go—Vegrandór’s tomb."

At that moment, a heavy cloud of smoke swept across the mountain’s peak, plunging it into an even deeper darkness. It loomed above them like a scowling face, glaring down as if to warn: “Behind lies life; ahead lies death.”

"But according to what you said, he may be trying to kill two birds with one stone—resurrecting himself and destroying the monarchies of the north. We must stop him and destroy him at all costs."

Now that they had finally seen their destination, one crucial question remained: how could they enter it when the only known entrance was already swarming with Vegrandór’s army?

"How can we get inside the mountain?" Kristoff asked. "I don’t see any other way in."

"Actually, there is..." Alasadir looked up. "The stairs."

He pointed to a rough, winding rock staircase snaking up the mountain into the darkness. They all stared at it, letting out quiet sighs.

"This kind of stairs will make my legs anguish," Halor muttered.

But eventually, they had no choice but to climb the stairs. It was without a doubt the most exhausting path they had ever taken. The rock steps were coated with frozen water, making them dangerously slippery—Kristoff nearly plunged down the mountainside, only to be saved by Elsa’s swift magic. Other steps were so fragile that the rock cracked and crumbled under their weight. At one point, there were entire gaps where no stairs existed at all, forcing Elsa to conjure makeshift ice steps to fill in the voids, allowing everyone to continue upward.

They climbed higher and higher, their muscles aching with each step, until at last they could see the full expanse of land beneath the mountain and the dark waters stretching into the distance. On the horizon, Ahtohallan appeared as nothing more than a tiny dot. Dark clouds swirled rapidly toward them, carrying an ominous warning of an approaching blizzard.

"At the top of the stairs, there’s an entrance large enough to shelter us from the storm," Alasadir called out, his voice cutting through the howling wind. "We must hurry! This blizzard is moving faster than I anticipated!"

Though utterly exhausted, they pressed on, pushing their bodies to the limit until finally they reached the mountain’s top. Just as Alasadir had warned, the blizzard swept over them the moment they stepped inside the entrance, howling violently against the rock walls. They collapsed where they could, shivering and spent, as Kristoff unpacked the food they had brought from Alasadir’s castle. One by one, they devoured the bread, cheese, and meat, eating as if they hadn’t tasted a proper meal in months.

But this was only a prelude to the terrible events awaiting them.

Chapter Text

"Come here..."

Elsa awakened the moment a strange, whispering voice drifted through her mind, and she discovered herself enclosed once more in a shadowy realm, just as in the dreams that had haunted her before. She let her gaze wander through the darkness, hoping for even the faintest glimmer of light—yet the void around her remained completely still and empty.

"Come here now..."

She instantly knew the voice belonged to Vegrandór—he had come seeking her once more.

“What do you want from me?!”

“I’m not speaking to you, I’m speaking to the thing that wretched Alósseiðr created… the thing that lives within you.”

Elsa stiffened at his words, shock rippling through her—but then she realized he meant the Fifth Spirit, the gift that now resided within her.

“What are you to Alasadir, truly? And why does he want to destroy you?” she demanded, her confusion rising like a storm.

Vegrandór didn’t answer her. Instead, he slowly raised his hand and extended only three fingers—his thumb, the index finger with the ring, and his middle finger—reaching them toward Elsa. A chill swept through her as she suddenly felt something being tugged from deep within her body, a pull so fierce it twisted her in pain. The presence was drawn out bit by bit—a fifth, then a quarter, and when half of it had already slipped from her, she recognized exactly what it was: the Fifth Spirit inside her.

Realizing that if he managed to rip all of it from her, she would die instantly, Elsa summoned every last drop of strength she had to resist him. She froze him where he stood, but he shattered the ice effortlessly, without even moving. She struck next with sharp shards of ice, but his vile power swept them aside as if they were nothing. With nowhere left to turn, she could only cling desperately to the fragile, glowing spirit within her, fighting with all her might to keep it from falling into his hands.

But physical strength had never been her advantage, and Vegrandór tore most of the spirit from her body. Desperate, she clung to the last thread of it, fighting for her life with the final traces of strength she had left.

Yet in the end, he wrenched the spirit out of her completely.

She jolted awake, gasping for breath, her chest rising and falling in quick, panicked burst. Sweat trickled down her forehead as she looked around, disoriented. Only then did she realize she was lying beside Anna and Olaf. They were still at the entrance to Vegrandór’s tomb.

“Did he come to you again?”

A voice drifted through the night. Elsa turned toward it and saw Alasadir sitting beside the extinguished bonfire, a pipe resting lazily between his fingers.

“Aren’t you sleeping, Alasadir?” she asked.

“I’m known as ‘The Man of Night,’” he replied casually. “I don’t sleep.”

Elsa suddenly remembered what Yelana had told her about him.

“Ah, right… Yelana mentioned that too,”

“So, did Vegrandór intrude into your dreams just now?” he asked Elsa again.

Elsa realized that no matter how hard she tried to hide it, she couldn't escape Alasadir’s gaze—he had already seen everything she had tried to conceal. She sat up straight and let out a weary sigh.

“Yeah…” she replied, her voice heavy with exhaustion. “This time, he wanted to pull the Fifth Spirit out of me.”

Alasadir raised his eyebrows at her words, as if he had already realized what was happening—and what Vegrandór’s next objective might have been.

“You’re awake anyway. Why don’t we step outside and talk, just the two of us?”

“You have something to tell me?” Elsa asked, surprised.

“Of course I do,” he replied. “But I can tell you only. And you must promise not to tell anyone else—not even these people.”

“Sure!”

Then Alasadir and Elsa stepped out of the tomb entrance and made their way to a small flat ledge along the rock stairs. Snow still drifted from the sky, though less fiercely now, the blizzard having passed. Fortunately, a protruding rock above them offered some shelter. From their vantage point, they could see the Dark Sea, shrouded in clouds and whipped by stormy winds, while far in the distance, Ahtohallan appeared like a tiny, glimmering dot on the horizon.

After a long, silent pause, Alasadir finally speaks:

“Have you ever wondered if you are the only Fifth Spirit… or if there was another before you?”

Elsa froze at the question, suddenly recalling that she had asked herself the same thing in the past. The Northuldra had never spoken to her directly about it—they themselves had little record of the inheritance of the spirits, or more precisely, they didn’t know whether the spirits could be passed on to others.

“Yeah…” Elsa admitted. “I’ve often wondered if the call that drew me to Ahtohallan last time came from Ahtohallan itself… or from someone who was the Fifth Spirit before me.”

“Then let me give you the answer: I do not interfere with who becomes the Fifth Spirit. I let the spirits decide their own fate.”

Elsa blinked, taken aback by Alasadir’s cryptic explanation.

“What do you mean?” she asked, puzzled.

“Still don’t understand?” he replied. “Since I created the spirits, I’ve always given them the freedom to choose. They can remain sole… or they can select someone else to inherit their power.”

“Then the call I heard from Ahtohallan must have come from someone who was the Fifth Spirit before me. If I had been the sole one, I would have only been with the Northuldra.”

“Perhaps. But this is ultimately their own matter. I have no part in it.”

At last, a question that had long weighed on Elsa’s mind found its answer. She let out a deep sigh of relief, as if a heavy burden had been lifted from her shoulders. Outside the island, the wind still howled fiercely, tugging at their robes and whipping their hair around. Alasadir sneezed, covering his mouth with a hand crossed over his face.

“Hey, Alasadir…” Elsa spoke up suddenly.

“I’m listening,” he replied.

“The Northuldra told me about the conflict between the native peoples and the migrant peoples. According to you, what was the truth?”

Alasadir exhaled a long puff of smoke before speaking.

“To the best of my knowledge, the laws of the natives stated that no one was allowed to sell their properties to another race unless the entire community, as well as the leader of that community, gave their consent. But…”

“But what?” Elsa asked, her brow furrowing in confusion.

“The leaders of those peoples were grasping and arbitrary. They secretly made deals with the migrant peoples, selling the territories without the consent of the people. Then, they took the ill-gotten treasures from those dishonest transactions and fled.”

Now Elsa finally understood the true cause of the conflict. She asked further.

“Then how did it all end? What became of those bastards?”

“The native peoples resolutely refused to recognize the territories as belonging to the migrants, and they sent men to arrest those who had sold the lands without consent. But by the time they arrived, those men were already dead—and the treasures had vanished as well. What happened after that… I think you were told.”

Elsa remained silent, her gaze fixed on the Dark Sea through the snowfall.

“You must have a lot of bitter memories tied to this cursed sea, right?” Alasadir asked suddenly.

It was clear why—this place had claimed the lives of her parents, who had risked everything to reach Ahtohallan in search of the source of the Fifth Spirit for her. Their sacrifice had indirectly burdened Elsa and Anna with the heavy responsibilities of Arendelle. She herself had fought Nokk here, struggling fiercely just to reach Ahtohallan, nearly drowning in the process.

“Yes. It was here that my parents died, at the bottom of this cold sea, just to uncover the truth about me.”

“To be honest, I feel a certain pity for your father’s death,” Alasadir said thoughtfully. “He—like your sister said—was probably far better than Runeard, that greedy fool who only cared about stealing lands from other peoples.”

“What do you mean by that?” Elsa asked, her brow furrowed in confusion. “Although my grandfather was indeed foolish, there’s no reason to say he wanted to claim other people’s territories.”

Alasadir exhaled a thin plume of smoke, his expression unreadable.

“I will tell you this: The one who instigated Runeard to slaughter the Northuldra was me.”

Elsa blinked, her eyes widening in horror, as if he had just uttered an impossible lie.

“What?” she whispered, her voice trembling.

“And it was I myself…” he continued, lowering his voice even further, “…who showed him how to weaken the power of the spirits.”

Two shocking truths hit Elsa in a single, blinding streak. She struggled to deny them, but the precision of his words left no room for doubt.

“Didn’t my grandfather fear the power of the spirits and set out to exterminate the Northuldra people? Then why does this matter of territory occupation even exist?”

“That was merely his excuse to start a war with them,” Alasadir replied, a grim grin crossing his face. “He came to me and declared his intention to drive the Northuldra from their lands, all to expand the borders of his kingdom.”

Alasadir couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of Elsa’s stunned expression, as if she had been a person who had just realized they had been fed lies all their life.

“You don’t have much experience in politics, so of course you’re shocked,” he continued. “There are moments when you admire past leaders or those with great achievements… and then one day, you realize you overrated them, and your admiration turns into disappointment—or even anger.”

Elsa shook off her initial shock and met his gaze, her eyes sharp. Alasadir draws a slow puff of smoke from his pipe, the smoke curling into the cold air.

“Even you, right?”

Alasadir seemed to understand the implication behind Elsa’s question. He took a slow puff from his pipe before replying.

“Before I commanded my troops, I held a great deal of reverence for Vegrandór. Why? Because of his lineage—his family had been among the highest peerages of the Hráþarr people for generations. His ancestors achieved countless feats to expand the realm for our people. As for me… I feel ashamed. My father was only a blacksmith, and my mother a slave. From the very beginning, my starting point was far lower than his.”

“Wait a second!” Elsa interrupted, her eyes wide. “I thought you were born a member of the nobility?”

“The truth is, my brother and I were mere commoners. For me to reach the pinnacle of power has been an arduous journey—and The Almighty has been on my side.”

Alasadir exhaled another slow puff of smoke, his gaze distant.

“When I began to secure a firm position in the military, I made outward concessions to Vegrandór, but in my heart, I looked down on him. Why? Because it was his arrogance—despite my warnings and unpredictable maneuvers against you all—that led to our defeat at the hands of the Arendellians. That loss hit us like a punch to the face, and the casualties were considerable. After that battle, our morale plummeted so drastically that no one dared to lead an army against the alliance of Northuldra and Arendelle again.”

“Vegrandór was really defeated by us? Then why aren’t there any records of it?”

“Perhaps the very fact that we defeated Arendelle led to the erasure of those records,” Alasadir replied thoughtfully. “But you can still take pride in it. It was Aren, the founder of Arendelle, together with the leader of the Northuldra, who crushed Vegrandór’s army and dealt him a devastating defeat.”

Alasadir now turned his gaze toward Elsa, speaking with a measured eloquence.

“After the war ended, Vegrandór and I each proclaimed ourselves lords of our own territories. At that time, I openly mocked him. Do you know why?”

“Well… no!” Elsa replied, her brow furrowed in confusion.

Alasadir turned his gaze back toward the Dark Sea, his voice steady but filled with quiet intensity.

“Because he—though the Emperor—had a narrow mind. He was conservative, suspicious even of those loyal to him. He ordered the execution of all the Dukes and generals who had achieved great feats for him. He rejected any brilliant ideas for reform, instead imposing a rigid, bureaucratic government. On top of that, though a leader, his heart was cruel. He showed no mercy to slaves or humble peoples, leaving them to suffer endlessly, and there was never any peace.”

Elsa remained silent, her eyes fixed on him.

“From this, it is clear,” Alasadir continued, “that Vegrandór, whether as Emperor or as leader, was only glamorous on the outside—and utterly inferior within.”

Alasadir took another slow puff from his pipe, then exhaled a curling wisp of smoke before turning his gaze back to Elsa.

“Enough of that. I’ll ask you something else: do you know why that snowman has life?”

“I don’t know,” Elsa admitted honestly. “Maybe it’s because of my power?”

“No,” Alasadir replied firmly. “I’ll tell you this: when I divided Vegrandór’s spirit, I did not grant you the power to give life to everything you create.”

Elsa’s eyes widened in surprise at this revelation, and she pressed Alasadir further, hoping to uncover the truth.

“So, according to you, how can Olaf speak, think, and move?”

“There are two theories. The first is that The Almighty intervened and granted him life. As everyone knows, except for The Almighty, no one in this world has the right to give life to an inanimate object—not even me.”

Elsa found it hard to accept. Neither she nor Anna fully trusted the beliefs of other races, yet as Alasadir himself had said, she might have to reconsider her understanding of The Almighty. But another question immediately sprang to her mind: why would He give life to Olaf?

Alasadir seemed to guess her thoughts. He exhaled a slow, quiet breath and said,

“Perhaps that snowman is meant to play an important role in The Almighty’s future plans, so He gave him life. Or… perhaps He simply enjoys things that are amusing and entertaining.”

“So what’s the other theory?”

“It is that he is merely the embodiment of the memories of you two sisters. In truth, he has no life at all. And if one of you were to die, the life within him would vanish.”

Elsa stayed silent, her thoughts heavy. If this theory was true, then Olaf was not just a creation of her power—he was a symbol of both her and Anna’s existence. Should Anna die one day, it seemed likely that Olaf would have reverted to a lifeless snowman.

“So, as you said, if Anna dies, Olaf won’t be alive, right?”

“Either her… or you,” Alasadir replied calmly.

“I’m immortal,” Elsa countered. “I’m the Fifth Spirit—have you forgotten?”

“Who told you that being the Fifth Spirit makes you immortal?” Alasadir scoffs.

Elsa felt a chill run through her at his words, her brow furrowing in confusion.

“What do you mean?” she asked, her voice steady but wary.

Alasadir stepped closer, extending a hand toward her.

“You’re only unaffected by time and disease. If Vegrandór—or even I—were to kill you right now, you would still die like any other human. And then your power… would return to me, or be reclaimed by Vegrandór if he were the one to do it.”

“No! Stay away from me!” Elsa shouted as she tooks a cautious step backward.

In truth, Alasadir intent was not to harm her. He only wanted to make clear that she was not immortal, contrary to what the Northuldra had led her to believe.

“This sea…” The mysterious maid’s voice echoed softly, “…was once a place of glory and light.”

“But it was punished,” Alasadir replied, his tone heavy.

Elsa gazed at the Dark Sea, her eyes widening as realization dawns upon her.

“It…” she stammered, her voice trembling. “It couldn’t be… that the entire Dark Sea was once the territory of the Valtari Empire?”

Alasadir simply nodded.

“After The Almighty transformed it into the Dark Sea, He cursed it so that it would never know peace or calm. Anyone who tries to cross it is doomed to perish. That is why it is also known as… ‘The Cemetery of Ships.’”

Elsa recalled the images of the ruins lying beneath the sea and the shipwreck along the northern coast of the Enchanted Forest. A sharp pang of grief pierced her heart as she envisioned her parents, unable to complete their mission, lost to the unforgiving waters—leaving the two sisters alone and helpless in a harsh world. And it had been all because of her… no, because of the beautiful yet perilous power she had possessed.

“Hey, Alasadir…” she said softly.

“I’m listening. Speak your mind,” he replies, his voice calm.

“Have you ever wondered about your own existence?”

Alasadir seemed to understand the meaning behind Elsa’s question. He sensed her guilt, the weight of responsibility she had been carrying alone, and her desire to resolve matters without involving anyone else—especially Anna. Elsa, meanwhile, couldn't shake the image of her sister freezing over when Elsa accidentally struck her heart, or the vision of Arendelle buried beneath deep snow in the middle of summer. In her heart, she longed for a place where she could cry freely, to let out all the grief and frustration she has bottled up. Yet even when she found such a place, the tears never came. She did not understand why.

Alasadir gripped his pipe tightly, his brow furrowing as memories weigh on him. After a long pause, he spoke, his voice low and measured:

“From infancy, my brother and I were not like the two of you sisters. Our father was an irritable and gruff man, constantly lashing out at my mother simply because she was a slave. He even discriminated against my poor little brother, who was deformed and could only babble. Yet our mother… she was compassionate and tender. She endured his cruelty for our sake and comforted us whenever we were sad.”

“I’m sorry… your mother was indeed a generous woman.”

A shadow of sadness passes across Alasadir’s face.

“But then one day, I saw her collapse to the ground after enduring his cruelty, unable to stand again.”

“What happened to her?”

“She had been ill for a long time… though she hid it from us. By that point, the disease had grown so severe that it could no longer be treated. That is why I resolved to seek The Almighty’s help, with the sole purpose of healing my mother. I sailed to Jerusalem, then journeyed far to Mount Sinai—the Sacred Mountain—and there, I met The Almighty.”

At that moment, Alasadir pulled back the hood of his cloak, revealing a face marked by a missing eye.

“The Almighty granted me the power not only to heal my mother, but also tasked me with other works He assigned. However, I had to sacrifice one of my eyes—and much of my physical vitality—whenever I wielded this magic.”

“Exactly what are you in charge of?”

“I cannot reveal that. If I do, the oath between Him and me will be broken, and I will lose all my power.”

Seeing the seriousness in his expression, Elsa did not press the matter further.

“But when I returned to find my mother, it was already too late...”

Alasadir took another slow puff from his pipe and released a weary sigh. Elsa sensed that he was reliving a distant memory—one that is both warm and painfully sharp.

“After my mother died,” he continued, “I argued with my father and left home. From that moment on, my family consisted only of me and my brother. Just like the two of you sisters in the past.”

Elsa couldn't forget the crushing grief she had felt when Anna knocked on her door after their parents’ funeral—seeking comfort, seeking the only person she had left. But Elsa had shut herself away, sitting alone and crying. Not because she wished to abandon Anna, but because she feared her power would hurt her sister again. So she had chosen isolation, even though it had torn her apart.

“I only remember…” Elsa murmured, her eyes drifting toward the Dark Sea. “After my parents’ funeral, I felt… completely alone, empty, and endless hopelessness. Those feelings tormented me—day and night—never letting me rest.”

Alasadir remained silent. Elsa glanced at him again. His hand still clasped the pipe, though the tobacco inside was nearly burned out.

“And I found myself trying to remember things that had once made me happy.” Her eyes turned to the sea again. “But slowly, my mind erased every memory that had ever brought me joy. And in the end… all I could think about was why life had always been this way.”

Alasadir took another puff, then exhaled slowly, as though acknowledging what Elsa had just said.

“To make a living, I poured all my wealth into opening a smithy. In the beginning, we forged and sold weapons exclusively to Vegrandór’s army. Over time, thanks to my craftsmanship and the magic bestowed upon me by The Almighty, my weapon trade flourished. As the Hráþarr continued to claim victory after victory, I gathered enough capital to raise an army of my own and gradually broke away from Vegrandór.”

He lifted his gaze to the sky, his thoughts drifting back to a distant memory.

“I conquered countless villages and cities of other races. Yet I forbade any massacres or the plundering of even a single hut, for my goal was to make those people completely subservient to the Hráþarr. The cities I brought down were beyond number, and many lives were lost by my hand—especially those who refused to submit.”

“You villain…” Elsa said.

Alasadir exhaled another cloud of smoke and turned his criticism toward Elsa.

“Did you know that when I first took command of my troops, I lost seven battles in a row? I was mocked not only by our enemies, but even by my own people—the Hráþarr themselves. Some of them went so far as to give me the nickname the ‘vincible’ general. They dragged out my disgraceful origins as well, sneering at me for being the son of a slave. At that time, the only thought that filled my mind was suicide.”

At this, Alasadir raised his voice, as though boasting of a great pride in his life.

“And do you know what turned everything around? One of the battles that brought me back was the clash with the alliance of the Northuldra and the Arendellians—right in the place you call the Enchanted Forest. Before that battle, one of our strongholds had been seized by them. None of our generals could find a way to counter their guerrilla tactics, and so we continued fighting without breaking the siege, until all trust was finally placed in me.”

His voice grew animated and eloquent, as if he were reliving the moment of victory.

“There, with only one thousand suicide troops, I defeated an alliance of twelve thousand Arendellians and Northuldra. I turned their so-called art of guerrilla warfare into nothing more than a circus performance—something no one else had been able to do.”

Elsa looked up at Alasadir and saw an immensely tall and imposing figure. His cloak fluttered in the wind, his eyes fixed upon Ahtohallan with unrestrained pride. His arms were outstretched, as if he were The Almighty himself—the sole ruler of all. In that moment, she sensed that his intentions went far beyond mere revenge.

“After that battle, my name became known throughout the North, and I inevitably grew into a force capable of rivaling Vegrandór. Our king at the time, Þórvaldr (Thorvaldur), was nearing the end of his life and had established a covenant among the generals. I was the first to fulfill it, and as a result, my reputation and support grew exponentially. To be honest, my power at that time nearly overshadowed Vegrandór.”

“What was that covenant?” Elsa asked, curiosity rising in her voice.

Alasadir slowly turned his head toward her, a dreadful grin spreading across his face.

“The first one to bring down Arendelle would be crowned king,” he said with pride.

“What?!” Elsa recoiled in shock.

Alasadir let out a sudden chuckle, the sound leaving Elsa both confused and afraid.

“Is there anything funny?” Elsa asked.

“You can’t imagine how furious his face was at that moment,” Alasadir said with a giggle. “When Þórvaldr died, he passed the throne back to Vegrandór. Vegrandór could not accept the existence of anyone equal to him, so he proclaimed himself emperor. At the same time, he abolished the entire system of granting the title of king within the empire. From then on, there would be only one Emperor—beneath him, only Dukes.”

He sneered slightly before continuing.

“During Vegrandór’s reign, I was the only one who still held the title of King. My political power far surpassed that of all the Dukes of the Empire, and I stood beneath him alone.”

“And that made Vegrandór hate you, didn’t it?” Elsa said.

“He realized that once my power grew too great, it would inevitably threaten his throne,” Alasadir replied, anger creeping into his voice. “So, to force me to relinquish it, he had my brother arrested and thrown into prison.”

“How unbelievable!” Elsa exclaimed in shock. “Is Vegrandór truly that cruel?”

“Once one becomes entangled in power, everyone’s hands will be stained with blood,” Alasadir replied calmly. “No one will refrain from using any means to seize supreme dominion. Whether it is a close friend or even a family member, everyone places their own interests above all else. And once those interests are threatened, they will resort to any method necessary to protect them.”

Suddenly, Alasadir slowly turned his head toward Elsa and gave her a ghostly smile, one that sent a chill through her entire body.

“Even murder…”

But as soon as the word left his mouth, everything seemed to reverse. He turned away, letting out a long, heavy breath.

“You had better tell your sister this,” he said at last. “If she wishes to rule her kingdom smoothly, consider this my sincere advice.”

Alasadir took one final puff before cleaning his pipe. Elsa spoke hesitantly.

“And… about the fact that you killed your brother…”

“That’s utter nonsense fabricated by those Northuldra maggots to slander me!” he raved. “Once, when I secretly visited my brother in prison, I brought him some food and a knife to cut it. While we were talking, he suddenly picked up the knife… and he—”

Alasadir broke off, then let out a long sigh, as if releasing a burden that had weighed on him for countless years. In that moment, Elsa understood the truth at last: Alasadir had not killed his brother—Vegrandór’s prison had.

“It wasn’t until much later that I discovered the truth,” he continued quietly. “Vegrandór didn’t imprison my brother of his own will. He did it because someone had advised him to. I begged him again and again to release my brother, but he refused to listen. Do you know whose words he acted upon?”

“Well… no,” Elsa replied.

“One was a detractor of the Northuldra leader—I can barely remember his name now. The other was Aren.” He turned sharply toward Elsa, glaring at her. “Your founding king of Arendelle.”

“What?!” Elsa sprang to her feet. “You can’t be serious… The Arendellians would never do something so cruel!”

“Are you certain?” he asked coldly.

Elsa suddenly recalled the moment when she had reached the deepest part of Ahtohallan and uncovered the full truth behind the dam her grandfather had built for the Northuldra. It had never been a gift—it was a curse disguised as one. In the end, her grandfather had killed their leader, turning the two sides against each other, until she and Anna arrived to mend what had been broken. Yet even now, she still did not understand why Alasadir called the Arendellians a two-faced people.

“After I entered Arendelle…” he said, his voice trailing for a moment. “Aren pretended to surrender to us, seeking a chance to get close to Vegrandór. Taking advantage of Vegrandór’s deep hatred for me, Aren quickly made contact with him. Before long, Vegrandór appointed Aren as his counselor, alongside the leader of the Northuldra. Those two did an excellent job of suppressing our influence within the empire, subjecting us to years of criticism and ridicule. And then came that day—the day my brother…”

Alasadir realized that he no longer wished to continue. Without another word, he turned away and walked toward the entrance. Elsa rose to her feet and called after him.

“Where are you going, Alasadir?”

“To wake the others,” he replied. “We must enter Vegrandór’s tomb, and then I will take you back to Arendelle.”

“How can you do that?” Elsa asked.

Alasadir did not answer. He continued walking straight toward the entrance, leaving Elsa no choice but to follow. Together, they woke the others, and everyone shared a simple breakfast. After a few minutes spent cleaning up, the group finally made their way into the shadowy tomb of Vegrandór.

Chapter Text

Because it was very dark inside, Alasdair lifted his staff and let its head glow to light his path. They descended through a narrow gap between two rock walls that opened into a wide corridor. It felt strange that the ground was so perfectly flattened, even though the entire place was carved out of solid mountain rock.

And they were not wrong. When they followed the corridor all the way through, they came to an expansive chamber like a great hall beneath the mountain. Many intricately carved pillars rose from the flat stone terrace to meet the rocky ceiling above. Meticulously crafted staircases of stone led up to the rooms above. At the center of the hall stood a large marble block.

“This place used to be a mine where the Hráþarr mined gold, silver, and other treasures,” Alasdair said. “And Vegrandór chose this place for his rest, as if to symbolize his glory.”

“This place looks massive,” Kristoff said. “If I’m buried somewhere like this, people ain’t gonna find my body.”

“But it also means you have no idea when—or at what hour—you’ll be visited,” Olaf said. “And after a while, no one will remember you, unless you are resurrected.”

“Like Vegrandór?” Anna bantered. “Then I’d rather rest in peace…”

“However…” Olaf cut in, interrupting Anna. “If you look at it from a different point of view, resurrection can sometimes be a good thing. Isn’t that right, Elsa?”

Olaf looked at Elsa, but her eyes remained fixed on the path ahead, swallowed in darkness. It was clear that the light from the tip of Alasdair’s staff was not enough to illuminate such a vast and shadowed space.

“Are you okay, Elsa?” Anna asked, worried.

“Huh! Yes…” Elsa startled a little. “I’m fine…”

“Whatever happens, you have to tell us right away, okay? Don’t keep it in your heart like last time, or we won’t be able to help.”

“That’s right, Elsa,” Olaf said. “I don’t want to see Arendelle buried in deep snow in the middle of summer—or suddenly shaken by earthquakes and hurricanes.”

Elsa lowered her face when she heard this; it seemed Olaf’s words had touched her own pain.

“Olaf!” Anna said, grumpily.

“Did I say anything wrong?” Olaf still didn’t seem to understand.

“Shut your mouth, or I’ll replace Vegrandór’s corpse with yours in his grave!” Alasdair grumbled. “Do you want his army to tear your bodies to shreds?”

And now they kept silent, just as Alasdair warned—partly because they were afraid of him, and partly because they were in a very dangerous place. Even the smallest mistake could make those ghosts aware of them.

They descended all the stairs and arrived in front of Vegrandór’s grave, only to be shocked to find it empty. There was nothing inside except a single blade. Alasdair picked it up and saw ancient rune inscriptions carved along the shining silver blade and the hilt. They all stared at it in silence.

“This blade…” Elsa said. “Could it be…”

“Násbrandrinn…” Alasdair whispered.

Before she could finish her words, a maiden’s voice uttered:

"Ríkismannsbrandrinn." (The Sword of a great man)

"The sword of a fool." Alasadir said gruffly.

“Where does that voice come from?” Olaf asked Anna.

“No idea,” Anna replied. “I’ve heard it several times, but I don’t know what it is. Perhaps a close courtier of Alasdair.”

Then Alasdair demonstrated a few sword techniques. His skill was clearly refined and elegant, leaving them in admiration.

“Hann mun því kømr aptr til.” (He will return to take it back.)

“Then I will strike him down,” Alasdair said in a stern voice.

Then Alasdair walked to Vegrandór’s grave and notices an inscription before it. The inscription read: “The resting place of the Emperor of the Hráþarr, the King of Kings.”

“Faðirinnsbrandrinn” (The Blade of the Father).

“A tyrant who will pay for his crimes,” Alasdair said through gritted teeth, hatred simmering inside him as he tightened his grip on the blade.

Everyone was utterly horrified by what they saw before their eyes. The light at the tip of Alasdair’s staff slowly turned blood‑red, and so did his eye. A terrible surge of power radiated from him, making Elsa feel as though she was choking; she could only stand frozen, watching as Alasdair lifted the blade and drove its tip into Vegrandór’s grave. The grave shatters instantly into pieces.

“Sjá brandr þrekvirkin efdnr hafa…” (This blade has performed great feats…)

“And I will use it to undo them,” Alasdair replied.

Suddenly, a stream of water flew from the side of the tomb, stunning and astonishing them. Alasdair looked down at the water and said quietly,

“I think you already know that water has memories, right?”

Elsa and Anna immediately recalled the shipwreck in the northern part of the Enchanted Forest, where Elsa had used her power to uncover the reason behind her parents’ decision to go to Ahtohallan. Without hesitation, she knelt down, placed her hands on the ground, and used her magic to make the droplets of water rise. A snow sculpture formed, depicting a crowned figure commanding another person. The other figure appeared to be urgently begging the crown-wearer for something.

Suddenly, an extremely deep voice boomed:

“Your Majesty! Thou canst not do so.”

“Why not! Is this empire ours, or theirs, those slaves?!”

“Of course it is ours, Your Majesty! But if thou persecutest the defeated and treatest the slaves with brutality, thou wilt not only offend the Dukes, but The Almighty shall also be angered. He will surely punish us severely, Your Majesty!”

“So thou agreest to let those migrants live and plunder our territory? Should the Hráþarr ourselves simply sit in silence and let them wreak such chaos?”

“I do not mean that, Your Majesty! Thou needest not persecute them, but it would be wise for thee to advise them to convert their religions and require them to pay our taxes if they wish to live in our empire permanently. Then there shall be no tribe that will not kneel before thee. All of the Dukes desire this, Your Majesty.”

“The Dukes want that? Are they trying to usurp my throne or something? I see now—they are attempting to incite the slaves to rise against us and to collude with the migrant tribes to disturb the empire’s borders. These bastards are so bold! I have long doubted their loyalty, and now it is undeniable—they have been hatching treason for a long time!”

“That is not so, Your Majesty; thou hast misunderstood! They are actually seeking to put an end to the plunder of the other tribes, and moreover, I have just received news that Alasdair declared a stirring policy: to allow all slaves to travel freely to his domain…”

“What authority has he to give such an order on his own? Here I am, the Emperor, and he is but one rank below me, yet he dares to let the slaves enter his territory arbitrarily. Does he still hold any respect for me?”

“Alasdair is a creditable general of the Empire. He has been fighting and conquering for many years, and the Dukes, the people, and the troops all hold great respect for him. Not to mention that his achievement in building Ahtohallan has pleased The Almighty as well. His political power is now immense, Your Majesty—almost equal to thine.”

"I shall not let this happen again! Be quick and convey my orders: those who hold the title of Duke or higher will get executed! In addition, any slave who tries to set foot in Alosseiðr's territory will be killed upon the spot, and helping them will be punished so!"

“Thou canst not do so, Your Majesty! Thou truly canst not! If thou dost, our fledgling empire shall fall! I beg thee to reconsider! Please, Your Majesty!”

“That is enough! Whoever speaks against my order shall die without even being asked for guilt!”

And then, there was no more sound; everything returned to silence, eerily still.

They stood in total awe of what they had just witnessed, unable to believe that Alasadir had nearly abolished slavery with a single motion, and that Vegrandór's terrifying inhumanity filled them with disgust. Elsa turned to Alasadir, intending to ask him something—but he was gone.

"How can Vegrandór be so cruel?" Anna exclaimed. "No one wants to kill the people who helped him."

"He's just scared," Elsa replied. "Just as our grandfather used to harm the Northuldra people, simply because he worried they might use the spirits to harm the Arendellians."

"But it’s silly to hate Alasadir," Anna said. "He’s the one who built Ahtohallan. In essence, it’s not the same as the dam our grandfather built."

"The problem isn’t that Alasadir built Ahtohallan," Elsa sighed.

"Then what is it, Elsa?" Anna asked.

Elsa thought about Alasadir's words—how easily a person could be corrupted by just two words: political power. Whether it was a family member or a stranger, people would use any means to eliminate what they saw as a threat to their interests. She turned to Anna, giving her sister a pleading look.

"I just want to tell you this, Anna: You’re now the Queen of Arendelle, and you have to shoulder the heavy responsibility left by our father. I know it’s sudden out of the blue. But promise me this, Anna, please."

"Just say it, Elsa!" Anna said, her voice firm with determination. "I’ll do anything for you."

Elsa took a deep breath and exhaled, as if summoning all her courage to share Alasadir’s words with Anna.

"Don’t put your own self-interest first, and don’t blindly trust anyone’s words or tempting deals. You have to act in the best interest of the entire kingdom, and sometimes you’ll have to set aside your ego for everyone’s sake. Every benefit comes with a trade-off. Do you understand what I’m saying, Anna?"

Anna looked slightly confused but nodded in agreement. Elsa could tell from her sister’s expression that she understood. Her mind drifted to Hans, who had been entrusted with the authority to manage Arendelle by Anna—and had almost ruined everything for his own selfish gain. Yet, one thing reassured her: Anna was no longer as innocent as she once had been.

At that very moment, Alasadir appeared, holding something that looked like a tome. The book had a quaint appearance, with several pages sticking out, as if they had been torn.

"What’s that, Alasadir?" Halor asked.

"This is the tome that records how to tear a soul apart," he replied.

They were stunned by his words. Kristoff and Olaf urged him to show them what was written inside, but he replied calmly, almost bored, "Even if I do, you wouldn’t understand anything. It’s written in the language of the Hráþarr."

"Now, the only ones who can read this book are Vegrandór and me," Alasadir sneered. "But you’re welcome to use it to kindle a fire and keep yourselves warm. After all, tearing a soul apart is already a mortal sin, and will surely be punished by The Almighty—so it’s no longer worth anything."

"Just show us already!" Olaf pleaded. "We want to know the process to split a soul!"

"You don’t need to look at it. I can summarize the process in just one word. Do you know what it is?"

"What is it?" Olaf asked, his excitement barely contained.

"Horrible," Alasadir said, his tone heavy with implication.

After hearing that word, they fell silent—not because of fear, but because they couldn’t grasp its meaning.

"What does that mean, Alasadir?" Kristoff asked.

"The process of splitting a soul is many times more painful and terrible than breaking someone’s body," Alasadir said, grinning. "Moreover, splitting a soul also weakens the person, and parts of the soul may become unclean. But not everyone suffers the same fate—Vegrandór is an example…"

Suddenly, a strange, eerie sound echoed from below. Alasadir’s expression darkened instantly, as if he could sense imminent danger.

"Stay quiet," he whispered. "Make no noise…"

Olaf began to back away toward a well, but accidentally brushed pebbles along its rim, sending them clattering to the bottom. Elsa’s panic surged at once.

"Don’t! Olaf!" she shouted.

But it was too late. The sharp clicking of pebbles striking the well’s sides echoed through the hall. Then came a series of noises from below—squeaks interspersed with roars, and the harsh clang of metal colliding, all blending into a terrifying cacophony.

Alasadir turned to Olaf, his voice sharp with anger.

"You’re the most foolish snowman in the world! Next time, throw all those stones and yourself down there!"

Olaf had no words. He could only close his eyes and hang his head in shame. Elsa pressed a hand to her forehead, as if words had failed her. Anna sighed softly, while Kristoff and Halor looked around the hall with heavy hearts.

Suddenly, rumblings echoed through the hall, as if something vast and numerous were moving below.

"Here they come!" Alasadir frowned. "I hope none of you get yourselves killed here. Prepare to face them!"

"What do you mean?" Halor asked, bewildered.

"Don’t hesitate any longer! Move quickly and get out of here!" Elsa shouted.

They rushed up the stairs into the wide corridor at the bottom of the cave. Anna, Kristoff, and Olaf ran ahead, while Elsa stayed back, ready to freeze the first creature that reached them. Alasadir followed last, gripping the silver blade in his left hand and his staff in his right, prepared to strike down anyone who came even half a step too close.

But at the entrance of the cave, blocking their path, stood something far more terrifying. A figure, wearing a Scheele-green glowing crown, eyes burning blood-red, and a black cloak flapping in the wind, loomed before them. Elsa felt a chill of fear wash over her, while Alasadir’s face darkened with indignation.

"Who are you?" Anna demanded.

The figure began to recite a poem about the Emperor of Ruins—the same one she had read before.

"I built a great empire out of lifeless erds.

So shall my glory stand for thousands of eons.

I raised a strong army from worthless cowards.

Even dying, I'll rise and punish the felons."

As soon as he finished speaking, they were stunned, unable to believe what they were seeing. In that instant, they knew who he was.

"You cannot be…" Kristoff whispered, fear creeping into his voice.

"I am the ruler of the spirits," the figure said, his voice chillingly dreadful. "And I… am the owner of the blade… that traitor is holding…"

Before he could finish, Alasadir stepped forward, his tone deadly, gripping the silver blade tightly in his hand.

"Vegrandór…"

Chapter Text

Their situation became extremely challenging. Standing before them was a person of unparalleled power and abilities, while behind them, many ghosts came rushing forward. In response, Alasadir immediately released a beam of light from his bottle of water. The light spread throughout the tomb, causing the ghosts to stay back.

“This light will help you attack them,” he said. “After all, they’re ghosts, so you can vanquish them with just your bare hands.”

Elsa used magic to freeze one of them, and it turned out exactly as Alasadir had said: the ghost was completely bound in ice and unable to move. Seeing this, the rest rushed over and tried to break the ice block, managing to save him. Enraged, they all surged toward the group even faster.

“What should we do?!” Anna shouted.

“I don’t know!” Kristoff turned to Olaf. “What do we do now, Olaf?!”

“What should we do next, Elsa?” Olaf asked, turning to her.

“How should I know?!” Elsa groaned. “You can see that I can only root them, not defeat them all. I’m incapable of dealing with this.”

And then Alasadir stepped forward, clutching his blade and staff, as if issuing a declaration of war to Vegrandór. They could only watch him, unable to move at all, even though an entire army stood behind them.

“Thou art a traitor!” Vegrandór said. “Thou swore to protect the Empire, and now look at what thou hast done.”

“I swore to protect the Empire from those who would harm it,” Alasadir replied. “And thou art one of them, Vegrandór!”

“I had got rid of all the abominable traitors—except thee…” Vegrandór said. “It seems I was wrong. The one I should have slain when I first proclaimed myself Emperor was thee.”

“Thou art neither my Emperor!” Alasadir replied fiercely. “Nor King, nor one who may command me. Thou art a greedy and foolish murderer, and it was because of thy fear that the entire race of Hráþarr was forced to lie at the bottom of the cold sea. And it was thou… who also deprived me of everything!”

“Cease playing the victim!” Vegrandór continued. “Thou art an arrogant fool, living only in thine own illusions. It was thy extravagance that killed so many of my men and the people of Hráþarr before the final plague struck. Look around thee—thy honor stains the ground.”

Alasadir grew furious. He swung his blade, preparing to rush toward Vegrandór. On the other side, the emperor extended his other hand in provocation, as if daring him to come closer.

“Better than living without it!” Alasadir said.

Then the two rushed at each other at such a terrifying pace that no one could follow the movements of either side. Vegrandór conjured a spear with his power to meet Alasadir’s strikes, while Alasadir span his staff repeatedly, slashing at Vegrandór in return. They fought with such ferocity that the ghost troops were forced to stay back, and even people like Elsa felt nervous and afraid. Dust and rocks began to fall from above as the mountain itself started to quake. For now, they no longer had to worry about Vegrandór’s ghost army—but something even more frightening took its place: Alasadir and Vegrandór were battling with such overwhelming force that the mountain seemed on the verge of collapsing and crushing them all.

“We have to get out of here quickly, or those rocks will crush us!” Kristoff sayed. “I still have a lot of unfinished work, and I don’t want my corpse lying here!”

“As I see it, there’s only one way now—to intervene in the fight between those two,” Halor suggested.

“Are you crazy?!” Kristoff shouted. “That’s not a way for us to escape; it’s a way for us to die even faster.”

“Can you freeze the ground beneath them, Elsa?” Anna asked. “Only that way can we stop everything.”

Elsa nodded and used her power to create ice beneath her feet. It spread rapidly, causing both Alasadir and Vegrandór to slide and fall. Vegrandór braced the tip of his spear against the ice, while Alasadir drove the tip of his blade down to use it as a fulcrum. The mountain stopped quaking, and everything returned to silence.

The two of them turned to look at Elsa, their eyes filled with shock and laced with a hint of rage.

“Thou bastard…” Vegrandór snarled. “Thou shalt not stay alive!”

With that, he rose to his feet, gripped his spear, and slowly advanced toward Elsa. All of them were seized by terror at his murderous aura. Their legs trembled violently, yet they couldn't move, as if he had locked them in place.

But then something unexpected happened—a blade pierced Vegrandór’s heart, and the wielder was none other than Alasadir! He had saved them from the hands of death. Yet he staggered and vomited a significant pool of blood, a clear sign that his condition was worsening rapidly.

“They are not… thy foes,” Alasadir breathed heavily. “The one thou must fight… is me.”

“I tell thee…” Vegrandór said, showing no sign of injury despite being impaled. “…that the ancient prophecy has come to pass. I shall unite the entire North, and thou shalt not be able to stop it.”

"And I tell thee as well..." Alasadir wiped the blood from his mouth. "... that thy desire to unite the Valtari Empire is nothing compared to my will for revenge! thou shalt not achieve anything, and thou... shalt be dead again... by my own hands."

After that, Vegrandór cackled and suddenly appeared right behind Elsa—a swift, unexpected strike that left everyone frozen. He seized control of her body, and together they vanished into a hole he tore open with his power, right before their eyes.

“ELSA!!” Anna screamed, watching her sister being carried away by Vegrandór.

At that very moment, Alasadir suddenly collapsed, prompting Kristoff to rush to his side to help him.

“Are you all right, Alasadir?” he asked. “Can you still move?”

“I’m fine… but it seems he has begun a war… with other kingdoms,” Alasadir replied.

“What do you mean?” Halor asked, clearly not understanding.

Anna seemed to realize something.

“Wait a minute… when we were on our way to Alasadir’s place, we saw a massive army heading toward Arendelle, right?”

Now that they remembered seeing countless ghosts and giant beasts moving toward the Enchanted Forest, a terrible thought flashed through each of their minds.

“This is bad! The Northuldra people are in danger!” Anna panicked. “If that place falls, the next target will definitely be Arendelle.”

“We must return to Yelana’s place immediately!” Kristoff urged. “Otherwise, Vegrandór will sweep through it without leaving a single thing behind.”

“But it takes an entire week to get there!” Halor said seriously. “I’m just afraid that by the time we arrive, no one will be left…”

“Then go to my place first…” Alasadir said wearily.

“And what about Vegrandór?” Halor asked.

Alasadir pondered for a moment, then said:

“Vegrandór isn’t going to appear at Arendelle. But that doesn’t mean it’s out of danger.”

“Why?” Olaf asked.

“I think he’s focusing on something else—something far more important. And I personally must confront him there.”

“Where is it?” Kristoff asked.

He turned to them, his eyes filled with murderous intent.

“Do not worry about that. There, I shall make him suffer agony and torment, and I will put an end to everything…”

“That’s it!” Halor said urgently. “We’ve got to get out of here right now!”

They rushed outside and descended the rocky stairs, only to see a group of ghosts chasing behind them—about twenty to thirty in number. The army that had previously entered the mountain now gathered by the Dark Sea. The ground quaked violently, and a strange phenomenon unfolded before their eyes, leaving them in shock: the sea itself was being drained and split in two! A dry, straight path emerged in the middle of the waters, allowing the ghosts to pass. The path stretched eastward, heading directly toward Ahtohallan. They paused for a moment, watching as the ghostly army marched across the newly formed passage through the Dark Sea.

“Where is they going?!” Kristoff shouted.

“Keep moving!” Alasadir yelled. “If you delay, none will escape this place alive!”

They reached the cave where Alasadir had parked his chariot, and everyone quickly climbed in. He lowered the white bridge, and the chariot immediately set off toward his island.

But they hadn’t gone far when ghosts sent by Vegrandór to catch them rode phantom horses close to the chariot. Seeing this, Alasadir rose, releasing a beam of light from his staff while slashing at the advancing horses with his silver blade. Kristoff, Halor, and Olaf were also attacked, forced to constantly dodge the swings of axes in their hands, struggling within the cramped space of the chariot.

Thankfully, they remained safe until Alasadir showed signs of exhaustion. Physical strength had never been his advantage, but the ghosts were relentless, still following the chariot like hungry leeches. Seeing that they were almost at their destination, Alasadir swept away the nearest ghost, then smote his staff into the ground beneath the white bridge. The bridge shattered immediately, and the shelter above collapsed. The ghosts were powerless to stop it and were devoured by the cold, dark waters. The chariot nearly submerged before it finally reached the shoreline where Halor had anchored his vessel. No one was seriously injured, but their spirits were still shaken.

“Have you been trying to kill us all, Alasadir?!” Halor shouted.

“We don’t have much time!” Alasadir replied irritably. “Had I not done so, I couldn’t have cut off the tail.”

They stepped out of the chariot, straightening their clothes and shaking off.

“We’ve got to save Elsa right now!” Anna urged. “Otherwise, Vegrandór will kill her!”

“But the problem is, we have no idea where she is now,” Kristoff said. “You saw how he vanished, didn’t you? How are we supposed to find her?”

“So you want to let her be killed by him, don’t you?!” Anna cried, tears streaming down her face.

“That’s not what I mean!” Kristoff tried to clarify. “We have no clue where he is right now, and his army is probably attacking the Northuldra. We must return to defend Arendelle in case it falls. Didn’t Elsa tell us that the safety of our people must come first, no matter what?”

“The blonde guy is right,” Alasadir interjected. “Now that you are the Queen, you must not let personal matters interfere with the destiny of your nation.”

“Even you think we won’t go and save her?” Anna reproached, her voice trembling. “Why… why are you all becoming so heartless at this very moment?!”

“Hey, Anna…” Kristoff began, trying to explain.

“That’s it!” Anna said, her voice sharp with determination. “I’m going to go save Elsa myself, even if I have to drain the entire Dark Sea!”

With that, she rose and strode toward Alasadir—but suddenly, she collapsed to the ground, clutching her belly in intense pain. Kristoff panicked and rushes to her side. She was sweating profusely, her teeth clenched.

“Are you hurt somewhere, Anna?” the blonde guy asked, his voice filled with worry.

“Kristoff… I… I’m pregnant!” Anna gasped.

Chapter Text

Kristoff was shocked by what Anna had just said, a strange mixture of overwhelming happiness and deep anxiety stirring in his heart.

"This… is this true, Anna?"

"The doctors have already examined me. I'm four weeks pregnant…"

Without hesitation, Kristoff gently helped Anna up and laid her down, resting her head on his lap. Her face showed fatigue and pain from everything that had happened so far.

"Kristoff…" Anna whispered. "I'm sorry for being harsh with you… I’m just…"

"Don't say that," Kristoff said kindly. "I know you're worried about Elsa, and I don't blame you. Just get some sleep."

Anna smiled and closed her eyes, while Alasadir took out a pipe and lit it, taking a slow, thoughtful puff.

"So both you and I are about to be promoted!" Olaf said with a bright smile. "You're going to be a father, and I'm going to be the uncle of a wonderful child."

"Congratulations to you both!" Halor added, joining in the celebration. "It's a pity I don't have any gifts for you on this occasion."

Kristoff smiled and gestured for them to keep their voices down, not wanting to disturb Anna's sleep. Then he turned to Alasadir and asked,

"What should we do now, Alasadir?"

"You must return to Arendelle quickly," he said. "It’s easy to get attacked and difficult to defend. As the most important city of the North, capturing it would allow Vegrandór to threaten other kingdoms. I take it he won’t miss the opportunity, especially knowing that all of you are here and cannot lead them. Moreover, from what you said, it’s very likely that Vegrandór is already attacking the Northuldra."

"But now we have no ships or boats. How do we get back there?" Kristoff asked.

"Just use my chariot. I’ll open Ljóssarbrúin, the segment between this place and the Enchanted Forest. Fortunately, I managed to keep this bridge from being destroyed by the Seventh Plague of the Almighty."

"And what are you going to do?"

"I do know where Vegrandór is heading next, and he certainly won’t get there with bare hands," he said, frowning, making Kristoff skeptical.

As soon as he finished speaking, he snapped his fingers, and a “click” echoed through the space. The voice of the maid spoke again.

"Bjóð okkr, Konungr." (Order us, Your Majesty.)

Alasadir commanded the maid,

"Assemble the army. We shall march to Vegrandór! And get me a horse!"

"You want to confront him alone?" Halor asked.

"So, besides me, who else is capable of resisting him?" Alasadir replied, turning to look at them. "You all just need to defend your city against his ghosts successfully, and you will have already thwarted one of his important objectives. As for the Fifth Spirit, leave her to me."

"His forces aren’t small, in my opinion. Are you really able to confront him?" Kristoff asked, worried.

"Compared to the number of soldiers, I could never match him," Alasadir said. "But in terms of cunning and the ability to command an army, even if ten warriors like him combined, they still wouldn’t equal me! I’ve already prepared for this battle, so don’t worry about me!"

Kristoff saw the lifeless look in Alasadir’s eyes, like a dead man’s, yet there was a hidden determination beneath it. He nodded and said:

"We believe in you, Alasadir. But I want to tell you this."

"Something else?" Alasadir asked.

"Her name is Elsa," Kristoff said in a stern voice. "And if anything happens to her, we won’t let it go."

Alasadir merely smiled and said nothing more. It seemed he understood the implication behind the tall man’s words. Then he reopened the white bridge, though this time it faced southeast rather than toward Ahtohallan. Kristoff carried Anna into the chariot, and Alasadir steered it onto the bridge.

"Aren’t you coming with us?" Anna asked.

"I have to lead my troops to confront him, so I must salute all of you here. But before you go, take this."

He said, handing Anna the glowing bottle of water.

"Without this, you won’t be able to resist Vegrandór’s army. So you absolutely must not break it or let it fall into the enemy’s hands."

They nodded and thanked Alasadir.

"What about you, Halor?" Anna asked.

Halor was already on the vessel, pulling up the anchor to leave. He didn’t want to get involved in this war. Moreover, he had been staying here long enough; it was time to return and focus on his main work.

"I'm neither a warrior nor a politician. I'm a businessman," he said aloud. "So I won’t be going with you to Arendelle. I hope you understand—it’s time for me to leave."

"It’s been very nice to meet you, Halor!" Anna said with a smile. "Thank you so much for helping us!"

"You're welcome, Queen of Arendelle!" he called back. "Goodbye, everyone! Goodbye, Alasadir!"

Alasadir said nothing, simply holding out his hand in farewell. Slowly, Halor’s vessel and the chariot began to move, gradually growing smaller as they drifted away. Eventually, they disappeared from Alasadir’s sight, sinking below the horizon.

Alasadir stood still for a long moment, then sighed and walked toward a boulder. He sat down, bowing his head, thoughts turning to his lost brother and mother. A heavy sense of despair began to overwhelm him.

Suddenly, he dropped to his knees, coughing up blood. He must have pushed himself to the limit during his duel with Vegrandór in the tomb. With great effort, he sat up, took out the medicine jar Halor had given him, uncorked it, and swallowed its contents. Then he crossed his hands and stared at the ground. A single tear slid from the corner of his eye, for he knew his end was near.

"Are you okay?" a voice called.

Alasadir looked up and was surprised to see Olaf still there.

"Why are you still here? I thought you had returned to the Northuldra Forest with them."

"I lost an arm in the sea, so I had to go back to retrieve it. And by the time I returned, they were already gone. By the way, you dropped this!"

In Olaf’s hand was a small oval portrait of a young man. Alasadir snatched it from him, and the snowman immediately realized that something was wrong.

"Have you been crying?"

"No…" Alasadir replied, his eyes reddening.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No…"

Olaf could see that Alasadir was truly troubled. It wasn’t hard for him to realize that the man was filled with sorrow and unwilling to share it with others. The snowman hesitated for a moment, then decided to use his old hobby—something he had carried since Anna and Elsa first created him as children—to comfort him.

"Do you want a hug? I like warm hugs."

Alasadir hesitated, but now it seemed he could no longer hold back.

"Yeah…" he choked out.

Olaf stepped closer and embraced him. Alasadir pressed his face into the snowman and let out a torrent of tears. In that moment, the strong wall he had built to hold back his own agony, crumbled completely.

Chapter Text

"Urgh!"

Elsa frowned and slowly opened her eyes. She hadn’t fully regained her senses yet; her gaze was dim and wandering. It wasn’t until she realized she was alone in a cold, dark place that she understood she wasn’t with Anna or the others.

"Where… is this?" she whispered. "And why am I here? I’m supposed to be with Anna and the others."

She tried to get up, only to discover that her legs were shackled with iron cuffs, just like the time Hans had taken her to Arendelle’s prison. The difference now was that these cuffs could weaken the power of spirits, and her captor this time wasn’t Hans. Around her, there wasn’t even a prison.

A tall figure cloaked in Scheele’s green appeared before Elsa. A ring on his finger glowed the same eerie color, and his eyes burned with blood-red light. Just from the power radiating off him, Elsa knew immediately that it was Vegrandór.

"Let me go!" Elsa pleaded. "Please!"

"So thou wouldst run back to Alósseiðr to help him defeat me? Why should I allow that?" he replied coldly.

"No, it’s not like that," Elsa said. "I shall not interfere in the matter between him and you. So please… let me go!"

Suddenly, a strange voice echoed:

"But we don’t have an army to join him, Your Majesty!"

"What!" Elsa exclaimed, shocked. She didn’t understand what was happening.

Then, around her, Paris green pillars rose, forming a large dome. A snow sculpture of Vegrandór stood on an observation deck, and another sculpture depicted someone trying to speak to him. In that moment, Elsa realized she was in Ahtohallan.

"Yes! Thou dost not have an army! But that doth not mean thou art not a threat to me, Aren!"

"I don’t quite understand, Your Majesty!"

"Think not that I am unaware of the fact that thou art the one who can bring everyone together. This was made quite clear during the Battle of Arundil Fjord, when thy people and the Northuldra faced Alósseiðr’s army. If I were to let thee go, he who would truly benefit would be him, for he might fish in troubled waters, drawing more of my people and slaves to his domain."

"They’re just immigrants, Your Majesty. They caused the death of thy parents—art thou not angry at them? Their departure would actually benefit thou: thou wouldst have more land for thy people to cultivate, and it would solve the problem of ethnic strife. Isn’t that like killing two birds with one stone?"

"Thy words are audacious! Thanks to their departure, now half of the North is in Alósseiðr’s hands! Thou wouldst have his strength grow and grow until he crushes me!"

"As I see it, he probably only wishest to live peacefully, Your Majesty! The proof is clear: when we asked him to provide the tax collection documents, he continued to submit them every month; we requested ten barracks be transferred to Your Majesty, and he complied; we ordered five thousand troops to support thee, and he even sent seven thousand men and horses. Clearly, he hath no intention of being hostile to Your Majesty—otherwise, he would have betrayed thee long ago."

"Thou understandest nothing, Aren! Thou and I are both merely watching a play directed by him. Outwardly, he remaineth loyal to me, but in his heart, he hath long intended to seize my throne and rule the North himself. The proof? He incited King Þórvaldr to declare that whoever entered Arendelle first would be crowned King. I already told thee this—hast thou forgotten?"

Elsa was stunned. She could hardly believe that even Alasadir might harbor ambitions to seize supreme power for himself. It seemed that Vegrandór’s words about his indifference toward him deserved careful consideration.

"Of course I remember, Your Majesty! But let us think carefully: what he possesses is merely an empty title. Here in the Valtari Empire, thou wieldest the greatest power, not he. Thou dost not pay taxes, but he does; thou dost not send thy troops, but he must. Most importantly, thou hast the authority to revoke his command—something he cannot take from thee."

Vegrandór stayed silent, as if he were reconsidering what Aren had just said:

"Therefore, even if I join him, I may not be able to do aught. Thou canst summon him to this place that he may speak, but he hath no power to summon thee to his domain."

"Well, thou art rather right!"

"Then pray, accept my request. Let me, Gurðúr, and Ingorddid depart."

"As for thee, I shall, but why involve those two?"

"Gurðúr hath become grievously ill and is incapable of continuing to assume his duties, Your Majesty. Previously we sent thy physician to examine him and discovered what his condition was, did we not, Your Majesty? As for Ingorddid, I shall leave a hostage in thy place, to ensure that Alósseiðr dares not act."

"Who is it?"

"His younger brother! Haskívarr! Now my people watch over him and tend to him."

Hearing this, Elsa immediately understood why Vegrandór was able to capture and drive Alasadir’s brother to commit suicide. It was her ancestor, Lord Aren, who had handed him over to Vegrandór. From this moment, Alasadir’s hatred for him—and for the Arendellians—took root.

"Thou mayest treat him as thou wilt, but thou must not let him die."

"That is impossible! If he should find it out, he would surely rebel, and my prestige would be diminished before my people. I can only allow thee and Gurðúr to depart!"

"Fear not, Your Majesty! I shall not tell him of it. To do so would be no different from burying myself by mine own hand, and they would be placed upon his execution list as well."

Vegrandór pondered for a time, and at last he accepted Aren’s request. Aren thanked him repeatedly.

"If thou side with Alósseiðr, blame me not for being inhumane, Aren!"

"I understand, Your Majesty!"

Then the surrounding space grew bright, though still bathed in Paris green. A figure sat upon a great mound of snow—it was the true Vegrandór.

"That which thou hast just witnessed are all my memories of thy ancestors. Thou must surely desire to ask me many things, must thou not?"

"Please, let me go!" Elsa begged. "Now I know that Alasadir is no good man in any case, and I shall not side with him against you."

"I am more than capable of crushing all of you to death alongside him like maggots once I am resurrected," Vegrandór said with disdain, his voice trembling with contempt. "I require thee to resurrect me, not to lay pressure upon him."

Then he approached Elsa and squeezed her neck with one hand like chicken. For a moment she felt her entire body go numb, a feeling of extreme pain and despair spread throughout her body, but there was no one who were able to help her.

"So thou hadst better shut thy mouth and stay silent, or I'm gonna tear thee apart and take back all the power that Alósseiðr gave thee, get it! I'm telling thee: I've already recovered two parts of my spirit."

He then released his grip, and Elsa collapsed to the ground. With great difficulty, she forced herself to her feet and dimly watched him depart. Tears streamed from the corners of her eyes as she sobbed, overwhelmed by her helplessness and the cruel treatment she had suffered.

Suddenly, two figures appeared before her, their voices familiar:

"Elsa! Is that you?"

Startled, she turned to face them. It was King Agnarr and Queen Iduna of Arendelle! Their eyes shone with affection, and gentle smiles graced their faces.

"Papa… Mama… it cannot be!" she whispered, stunned.

"Look at you!" King Agnarr exclaimed. "Fully grown and exceedingly fair, like a snowflake."

Queen Iduna approached Elsa and laid a gentle hand upon her cheek. Elsa remained in shock, unsure whether this was real or but a memory. The Queen’s eyes, filled with both sorrow and pity, met hers.

"You have endured much, haven't you? The world has treated you harshly, hasn't it, my dear?"

"No, Mama!" Elsa choked back her tears. "I am still well, quite normal. It's nothing, Mama."

"I see it in your eyes…" Iduna said softly. "…and so I know what you have suffered. You have been harmed and kept apart, haven't you?"

At that very moment, Elsa threw herself into her mother’s embrace and sobbed like a child. King Agnarr stepped forward as well, wrapping her in his arms and patting her gently, while Queen Iduna stroked her hair with tender care. Elsa no longer cared whether they were but memories or reality; all that mattered was to cry and be comforted, as a toddler might before her parents.

Vegrandór entered from the shadows and beheld the scene. He spoke nothing, merely standing to the side of the aisle with arms crossed. His thoughts wandered to his own parents, to distant recollections from the chaotic days of long ago. Had he once truly enjoyed peaceful moments with his family before all was torn asunder, or was that but a delusion of his mind?

He sank to a seat and bowed his head, sighing, while Elsa’s sobs filled the space before the two snow sculptures of her parents. Even if they were naught but shadows of the past, they bore great value in the present, at least to the heart. Unlike Elsa, he had had the chance to act, to strive to rescue his parents from their foes—but all had failed. In the end, he had been consumed by the curling hunger for power.

Within him, old, vexing emotions stirred anew—questions of what it truly meant to have a “family.”

Chapter Text

When Anna, Kristoff, and Sven returned to the Northuldra forest, the sight before them was both shocking and dreadful. The entire woodland was engulfed in a sea of purple flames and choking smoke, with ash rising from every direction, reducing their visibility to nearly nothing. No Northuldra figures were in sight; instead, the area teemed with Paris green ghosts.

"What has happened here?" Anna fretted. "Has Vegrandór attacked this place?"

"Most likely," Kristoff replied, turning toward the rock giants. "Everyone! Look!"

They turned their gaze to Kristoff and saw the ghosts attacking the spirits with relentless ferocity. They clambered over the rock giants, slashing at their bodies, pursued Nokk in the stream, and cornered Bruni as he tried to slip through the charred trunks. Gale did what he could to prevent them from reaching the spirits, but each effort only fanned the flames, causing the fire to spread faster throughout the forest.

Anna grasped the bottle of water that Alasadir had given them before their return. As she held it aloft, it radiated a Scheele’s green glow, and the light spread through the forest, terrifying the ghosts. Slowly, their forms returned to flesh and bone, marking a turning point for the forest spirits to strike back. Bruni unleashed a torrent of fire, reducing the ghosts to ash, while Gale fanned the flames further, ensuring that none could escape. The rock giants swept the abominations aside with their massive bodies, delivering earth-shaking stomps upon those who fled in terror.

Very quickly, all the ghosts in the forest were eliminated, vanishing into the void. Anna set the bottle of water aside and, with Kristoff, approached the spirits. Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through her stomach, and she sank to her knees. Kristoff quickly lifted her onto Sven’s back.

"Are you okay, Anna?" Kristoff asked, worry in his voice.

"I'm fine… It's just… there are so many things… I still need to do…"

Suddenly, a figure emerged from the bushes—a Northuldra tribeswoman, spear raised, ready to strike.

"Who are you?" she demanded.

The moment Anna heard the voice, recognition hit her instantly.

"Honeymaron? Is that you?" she exclaimed.

"Queen Anna?" Honeymaron’s eyes widened as he realized who it was. "You're back?"

"Yes," Anna replied. "We met Alasadir and learned everything about Vegrandór."

"But what's going on here?" Kristoff asked.

"I have no idea!" Honeymaron said, clearly bewildered. "Three days after you left, a black cloud suddenly covered the entire sky above the forest. Then a strange green mist appeared, and from it came an army of ghosts and giant beasts. Their leader was a mysterious man with a spear and a black cloak that covered his whole body—we couldn’t see his face. They attacked us, and since our forces were so weak, we had no choice but to flee the forest and head toward Arendelle."

Hearing this, a wave of anxiety and unease washed over them. The Northuldra forest had fallen, and it seemed likely that the chaos was far from over.

"But if all the Northuldra people escaped…" Kristoff asked, furrowing his brow, "...then why are you here?"

"I was lucky not to be caught. I wasn’t here when they attacked the forest—I was returning from the shoreline."

"So… do you know where Yelana is?" Anna asked, concern lacing her voice.

"I… I don’t know either," Honeymaron snorted. "When I saw all that smoke rising from the forest, I went back immediately. I saw many Northuldra scattering, chased by the ghosts. Everything was so chaotic that I just hid in a cave for several days, hoping they wouldn’t find me."

They realized that the attack on the forest had occurred shortly after they had seen Vegrandór’s army at sea. Just as Alasadir had warned, he had already begun his work to unify the North.

"Looks like we need to head back to Arendelle immediately!" Kristoff said. "The Northuldra forest—our northern defense line—is now broken."

"That means there’s nothing left to protect Arendelle!" Anna exclaimed, worry etching her face. "I don’t know how things are there right now… whether Pabbie and the others are okay… and… so much more…"

Anna was so overwhelmed with worry that she could no longer hold herself together. She sat down and covered her face with her hands, as if trying to hide her fear from everyone else. Kristoff noticed immediately and stepped forward, gently taking her hand.

"I’m sure everything will be fine, Anna," he said softly. "Even though Vegrandór’s army is powerful, we still have an elite force that’s well trained. And don’t forget—the troops from the Southern Isles are ready to come to our aid as well."

"I don’t know anymore…" Anna replied, her voice trembling. "Everything is so chaotic… so hard to deal with… If—if something happens to all the people of Arendelle…"

"If we can’t protect them," Kristoff said firmly, his voice hardening, "then we’ll avenge them. I’ll go with you. We’ll find Vegrandór—and we’ll bring him down."

Anna rested her head against Kristoff’s broad, strong chest, as if to reassure herself that she wasn’t alone. She desperately needed someone to share this heavy responsibility—and there was no one she trusted more than Kristoff, the man she had always loved and cherished as much as her sister.

Kristoff never tired of being near Anna, whether in her happiest moments or in her deepest sorrows. Each time, it filled him with a sense of closeness and warmth. He knew Anna was an extrovert—vivacious, open, always sharing her heart with others—so in times like this, all she needed was for him to be there, to quietly say, “Here I am. What do you need me to do?”

But there was no time to linger. They had to get back to Arendelle as quickly as possible. Fortunately, an unattended reindeer was nearby. Kristoff and Sven approached it, leading it back so Honeymaron could ride, while Kristoff and Anna mounted Sven’s back together.

"Wait!" Kristoff called out. "Where’s Olaf?"

They suddenly realized they hadn’t seen the snowman earlier and had no idea that Olaf was still with Alasadir.

"Could it be… that he got caught by them?" Anna said, her voice tight with worry.

"Why does he always cause trouble at the worst possible moment?!" Kristoff groaned, frustration clear in his voice.

Suddenly, Gale, Bruni, and the rock giants moved toward them, as if asking to join their journey. Seeing that their forest home had already been destroyed, they had no other choice. Anna nodded, allowing them to accompany her to Arendelle.

"Let’s go, everyone! We’ll find him later. First, we must get back to Arendelle!" she called out loudly.

With that, Anna, Kristoff, Sven, Honeymaron, Bruni, Gale, and the rock giants set off together, rushing south through the forest toward Arendelle.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Meanwhile, at Ahtohallan, Elsa sat with the snow sculptures of her parents, talking to them as if they were truly there.

"...And Anna cried and begged me to come see her, but I just sat there, unable to do anything… like a useless fool," Elsa admitted, her voice trembling.

"You're not useless," Agnarr’s voice seemed to comfort her. "You’re here, aren’t you? And this isn’t even the first time you’ve faced such challenges."

"That’s right!" Iduna’s gentle voice echoed. "This place isn’t for the incompetent. It’s for those who stumble… but still know how to keep going."

"Are you being a little too harsh?" Elsa groaned.

"But you must understand," Iduna continued, "people fail as part of becoming who they are meant to be. And a person’s true measure isn’t in what they’ve done, but in how well they strive to become who they truly want to be."

"I understand," Elsa whispered, resting her head against Agnarr’s chest, finding a strange comfort in the memory of her parents.

Suddenly, the space around her trembled, as if an earthquake had struck. Elsa understood—it was time to say goodbye and confront Vegrandór. She lowered her gaze and whispered to the snow statues of her parents,

"I’ll see you later. I have something I must do now."

King Agnarr and Queen Iduna seemed to smile warmly at her.

"No matter what you become, remember this: you are not alone. We will always be with you,"

"From the start…" Iduna added softly.

"...Until the end," Agnarr finished.

Elsa clasped them close, and anon the snow sculptures vanished. Darkness encompassed the hall, and Vegrandór appeared in the doorway.

"Fear not," he said coldly. "All of you shall be reunited… once I do resurrect and unify the whole North."

Elsa didn't give any responses, but fixed her gaze upon him, as though to declare 'I no longer fear you.'

"No matter how powerful you are, I shall escape here and return to Arendelle!"

Finished that, magic gathered within her hands, crackling with power, ready to contend with his.

"Thou dost truly wish to fight against me?" Vegrandór sneered, his tone full of disdain.

"Fight until my last breath!" Elsa replied, her voice resolute and unyielding.

He cackled but a moment, then seized the spear in his hand, preparing to do battle with her.

Yet suddenly, the fetters about her feet did splinter, much to the astonishment of both her and him. Then, a tall figure cloaked in black, bearing a silver blade and a staff, appeared behind them. Beside him stood a diminutive figure, like a snowman.

"OLAF!" Elsa cried aloud, her voice filled with joy.

"Alósseiðr!" Vegrandór bristled.

Chapter Text

As soon as the Northuldra people fell to Vegrandór's army, they ran toward Arendelle under Yelana's leadership. Each of them rode a reindeer. Fortunately, they were aided by Arendelle's soldiers in time, and none of them died. As soon as she arrived in Arendelle, Yelana went to find Pabbie, the Duke, and Marshal Mattias.

“Vegrandór sent his troops to attack us!” Yelana urged. “We were far weaker and could not withstand his forces. That is why I led my people here, hoping to find a way out. Please, help us!”

“He really brought troops into your forest?” Pabbie exclaimed in panic. “Then Arendelle is in danger!”

“Where is Queen Anna, Yelana?” Mattias asked. “Did Her Majesty not come with you?”

“Queen Anna had already gone with Elsa and the others to Alasadir. We have not heard anything from her so far.”

“Then where exactly did Queen Anna go?” the Duke asked.

“They headed northwest, to the island of Alasadir,” Yelana answered. “At the earliest, it would take about four days to return.”

“So what should we do now? Pabbie, do you have any ideas?”

Pabbie hesitated for a moment before replying, as though he were carefully considering what lay ahead, for it was clear that the challenge they faced was far too great.

“First, we must evacuate all our people. Then we must muster all the soldiers to defend this place and set up a defensive system around the ports. At the same time, inform the Southern Isles of the situation here; they will certainly have to send troops to aid us.”

“Why are you so sure about this?” the Duke asked.

“Because if Arendelle falls into Vegrandór’s hands, the Southern Isles will also be under threat of invasion. They will then have only two choices: unite with us, or see everyone forced to their knees before Vegrandór.”

“All right!” the Duke said. “I will immediately send our men to inform Crown Prince Rasmus of the Southern Isles. We have a very good relationship with him, and he has pledged to support Arendelle should we ever be in danger.”

“Then I shall lead the army to establish defensive lines to intercept the enemy,” Mattias said. “Pabbie has told us everything about Vegrandór’s army, and I already have a plan for our defense.”

“The Northuldra will fight alongside the soldiers of Arendelle,” Yelana said. “Now we are forced to walk the same path, even though we do not know where it will lead.”

“And I will oversee the evacuation and take care of the people of Arendelle until Queen Anna returns,” Pabbie said.

Then all of them immediately set to work. The Duke wrote a letter to the Southern Isles, in which he explained the entire situation in Arendelle and called upon the soldiers there to come to its aid. He then sent messengers to deliver the letter to Prince Rasmus. Mattias ordered the soldiers to form a line near the coast and take turns guarding the area. He also called upon the people of Arendelle to join the army if they were able to fight, promising that they would be provided with spears, armor, helmets, and shields. So many people came forward to fight against Vegrandór in defense of Arendelle that there were not enough weapons and equipment to supply them all. Seeing this, Yelana asked the Northuldra to craft makeshift javelins for the volunteers to use.

With all preparations complete, the next morning dawned beneath an overcast sky, as the pale rays of the sun were gradually swallowed by vast black clouds. The sea roared, and waves crashed violently against the shore. Then an eerie mist emerged and crept toward the coast, much like the mist that had once caused the crew of a vessel to vanish.

“Here they come…” Yelana said.

Yelana, Pabbie, the Duke, and Mattias stood on the palace balcony, gazing out over the sea. From within the mist, a massive army began to emerge, and the surface of the sea beneath their feet froze solid. Their ranks were filled with ghosts and giant beasts. At their head stood a man clad in a black cloak that shrouded him from head to toe. His face was hidden from view, yet they could all sense the cunning malice emanating from him.

Mattias rode down to the line along the shore and encouraged the troops:

“Children of Arendelle! I know you are afraid, and there is no way back for us. Nevertheless, today we will stand our ground and defend this place until our last breath. The colors of Arendelle will fly—and they will always fly above us!”

With those words, Mattias drew his sword and dismounted from his horse, striding toward Vegrandór’s army.

“Now I am a defending soldier, just like all of you! Follow me!”

“Yes, sir!” the soldiers shouted in unison.

On the other side, Vegrandór’s main force also began to surge forward.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

At Ahtohallan, news of Arendelle being attacked spread among everyone present. Elsa was deeply shaken by what was happening, a surge of panic and anxiety rising within her as she did not know whether her homeland could withstand Vegrandór’s army, or how long it might last.

“There will be no miracle for them,” Vegrandór said coldly. “Even if the Southern Isles come to reinforce them, Arendelle will have been flattened by then.”

“Do not underestimate the people of Arendelle!” Elsa said sternly. “Even if only one person remains, we shall not bow to you!”

“Almost at your death, and yet you still flaunt your pride,” Vegrandór sneered. “Typical of Aren’s descendants—stubborn, and two-faced as well.”

Alasadir pointed his staff at him and declared sternly:

“Enough of thy nonsense! Release the Fifth Spirit right now, or I shall lay bare the whole truth—that thou hadst slain my own brother—so that even the spirits may know thee for a despicable coward, and rise in wrath against thee.”

Taking advantage of their mutual confrontation, Elsa slowly retreated, creating an ice passage that led to the deepest point of Ahtohallan.

“Then what sayest thou?” Vegrandór challenged. “Here am I Emperor, and thou art but a King. Whose command shall the army obey, therefore?”

“They have followed me to expand the realm for the race of Hráþarr,” Alasadir replied. “They have marched into Arendelle with me, and Þórvaldr had crowned me King before thou becamest Emperor. Thinkest thou they shall listen to the one who had wrought victories beside them, or the one who wielded nothing but power, yet gave them no triumph?”

Olaf also took advantage of the moment while they were scolding each other and accompanied Elsa to the deepest part of Ahtohallan. The place was dark and strangely cold, just like the last time Elsa had come here to uncover the truth about King Runeard’s destruction of the Northuldra leader.

“It’s so cold…” she said, shivering.

Suddenly, four figures appeared in the distance. As they came closer to get a better look, they realized the figures were moving snow sculptures. One looked very much like Alasadir, another resembled the Aren she had seen earlier, the third wore Northuldra clothing, and the fourth appeared very strange. The sculpture of Alasadir stood with his hands clasped behind his back, while it seemed the other three were speaking to him.

“What are they saying?” Olaf asked Elsa.

“I have no idea,” she replied. “Let’s take a closer look.”

The two approached closer to hear the snow sculptures speaking, and this was their discourse:

“Didst thou deceive Vegrandór to escape his watchful eye?” Alasadir spoke.

“Yea, my King!” Aren said. “We found his laws of bondage grievous, and were sore offended thereby.”

“But we dared not speak to him plainly, and so we were forced to find an excuse to depart,” Ingorddid spoke. “Partly for fear that our tribes might be punished by him, and partly because he was sore vexed by the might of thy power.”

“But why did ye not declare thy independence from him and yet flee unto me?” Alasadir asked, suspicion in his voice. “Though thy forces remain yet weak, if ye join together, then ye may still stand unbowed.”

“My King! Please, allow Gurðúr to speak,” spoke the other man.

“Speak then!” Alasadir replied.

“Presently, the whole North is divided in two, and all have been decided. If the throne belongs not to Vegrandór, it shall surely be thine. Yet…”

Suddenly Gurðúr fell silent, leaving all perplexed.

“Yet what?” Alasadir asked.

Then Gurðúr, Aren, and Ingorddid stood straight before Alasadir and spoke in unison:

“We would rather have thee rule the entire North.”

At that moment, Elsa and Olaf suddenly realized the truth in Alasadir’s words—that both the Arendellians and the Northuldra had been two-faced. In the past, they had held Vegrandór in reverence and criticized Alasadir, yet now they were allying with him against Vegrandór.

“Our ancestors and the Northuldra really are traitors?” Elsa asked, suspicion in her voice.

“So Alasadir was right,” Olaf said.

Alasadir stood lost in thought for a long while, then held out his hand toward the other three:

“Very well! I consent to ally with all of you against Vegrandór. I shall denounce all his deeds to the Almighty and beseech Him to bring judgment upon him.”

“My King is wise!” the three said, kneeling before him.

“There is more yet…” Alasadir continued. “Should he perish, I shall sunder his spirit and grant to thee some portions. Take it as a gift bestowed by my own hand, that ye may watch every step of his doing. I shall not lay hand upon thy lands, yet thou must swear to me this: that ye shall keep thyself apart from this conflict.”

“We swear upon the lives of all our subjects, my King, that we shall not take part therein,” the three replied with one voice.

“Very well!” Alasadir commanded. “If there be naught else, then ye are dismissed. Remember this: reveal not these matters to outsiders, so that words will not reach the ears of Vegrandór.”

“We understand. We depart at once.”

And so they withdrew, leaving behind them only silence—and Elsa and Olaf standing in awe.

“It’s unbelievable that Alasadir colluded with us to depose Vegrandór,” Olaf said.

“So it’s clear—he has long harbored the ambition to dominate the entire North,” Elsa said. “It is true that one will do whatever they can to further their own interests.”

Suddenly, a maid’s voice spake:

“They did curse and revile thee—hast thou forgotten?”

“’That's because they could do nothing else,” Alasadir smirked. “I trusted them not from the first. Therefore I grant to them portions of Vegrandór’s spirit—not that they might become good, but partly that I may be free to attend other matters, and partly to chastise those maggots for all they have wrought against me.”

“What?” Elsa exclaimed.

"I did know that they only come to me to restore their cities. So if they want to be independent, let them be so. Should Vegrandór be destroyed, I will turn to exterminate them."

“My King is wise,” the maid’s voice murmured once more.

“Hear me well: if thou wouldst be a general, then the words thou hast spoken thou must strive to make true…”

Alasadir’s lips suddenly curled into a dreadful smirk:

“…But if thou wouldst be a king, then the oaths thou hast sworn—thou must know full well how to break them.”

Then the snow sculptures disappeared, and everything fell into silence.

“We have to let the others know about this,” Elsa said.

She then released a burst of power into the air, sending it outward.

“That’s strange.”

“Is something wrong, Elsa?”

“Why am I not freezing?”

“Freezing? What do you mean?”

“The last time I came here, I froze the moment I discovered the truth about my grandfather. But why this time… it’s here again, yet I’m not frozen?”

Suddenly, a figure appeared at the entrance—it was Vegrandór.

“’That's because I was imprisoned here by Alasadir at that hour,” he declared. “And it was thou thyself, even then, who didst set me free!”

Chapter Text

That day was a gloomy day, and the bitter cold winds blowing from the northeast rended the flesh with their cruel touch. Darkness cloaked the sky, and though the daytime here stretched long, no aurora graced the heavens. Beneath that shadowed firmament, a fierce battle raged, its deeds destined to fade from the annals of the world, yet here in the North, countless songs should rise to tell of it.

Arendellian troops struggled to resist the stormy waves of attack from Vegrandór's army. The sea itself had been frozen by their magic, allowing both sides to widen the battlefield. Wave after wave, the ghosts attempted to break through Mattias's defenses, yet they held firm, for Mattias was a seasoned warrior, trained for many years by Anna's grandfather, King Runeard. He constantly moved his troops along the shoreline, setting fire upon the ramparts—not to destroy the ghosts, but to root them in place, holding them at bay until the armies of the Southern Isles arrived and Anna returned.

Even the Northuldra fought alongside them, and Yelana had sent all the members of the tribe to ride reindeer along the roads, their hands gripping strong, thick ropes. They charged toward the giant beasts, running around their massive legs, looping the ropes around their shins, and pulling with such force that the beasts were toppled to the ground. Yet their makeshift weapons couldn't kill them, so the Arendellian soldiers were forced to guns, aiming for the skulls of the giants.

The differences between the two sides were so great that soon both the Arendellians and the Northuldra grew exhausted. Seeing this, the enemy leader immediately ordered his troops to strike harder, attempting to breach the stalwart defenses that had plagued them for hours.

The reason they could even harm the ghosts lay in the crystal containing Vegrandór's spirit, given to Yelana and Mattias by Pabbie. It emitted a Paris-green glow that rendered the ghosts killable, despite Alasadir's intervention. Thanks to this, they had been able to defend Arendelle for seven long hours.

"We cannot hold like this forever!" Mattias said to Yelana. "There are too many of them. I will have our troops retreat into the city and entrench themselves, waiting for Queen Anna's return."

"Then I shall have the Northuldra ambush at the city’s corners," Yelana replied. "We must fight and retreat constantly, striking and dividing them."

"Why have we not seen the armies of the Southern Isles yet?" the Duke fretted. "Are they waiting for all of us to fall before they strike?"

At that very moment, Pabbie appeared before them.

"Everyone! I bring urgent news!" he exclaimed, his voice trembling with haste.

"What is it?"

"The leader out there is not Vegrandór himself, but one of his servants!"

Confusion swept over them at Pabbie’s revelation.

"If he is not here, where is he now?" Yelana asked.

"I do not know," Pabbie admitted. "All I know is that their target is this crystal."

Their eyes fell upon the crystal set in Vegrandór's crown.

"What is this crystal worth, that they would bring an entire army here?" Mattias asked.

"I think it is but a pretense," Yelana said. "Their true purpose is likely to take down this place."

Suddenly, the ground beneath them quaked violently, sending shockwaves of astonishment through all. They rushed to the balcony and beheld a sight more terrible than any they had ever known: a tremendous torrent of power surged from the enemy leader into the sky. He raised his right arm, making a gesture as if lifting some unimaginable force. Red lightning and crackling bolts tore across the heavens, their fury striking through paved roads and ramparts alike. Arendellian soldiers were caught in the assault; several were struck and instantly reduced to scorched husks.

"He wants us burned alive by these lightnings!" Mattias shouted. "Is he mad?"

A bolt suddenly seared before their eyes, sending a shrill scream through the air and carving a massive crater in the road, smoke billowing upward in thick, choking clouds.

"No way..." the Duke gasped, desperation etched across his face. "I cannot believe this is our end!"

Then, as if carried by the wind itself, figures came rushing toward the palace with breathtaking speed. At the same moment, the rays of the sun pierced the dense black clouds, bathing the fjord in a brilliant, blinding white.

"Look!" Yelana cried, awe and recognition in her voice. "Who rides here on reindeer?"

Their eyes turned in her direction, and they beheld Anna, Kristoff, Honeymaron, and Sven advancing with unstoppable speed. Alongside them surged the spirits of the forest: Gale, Bruni, Nokk, and the towering rock giants.

"It’s Queen Anna!" Mattias shouted, his voice ringing across the battlefield. "They have returned!"

"And the spirits as well!" Pabbie exclaimed, awe and determination in his tone. "The time has come for us to turn the tide!"

They pressed onward, undeterred, even as the harbor below teemed with ghosts. Anna held aloft Alasadir's bottle, the light from it blazing forth across Arendelle. The brilliance struck fear into Vegrandór's troops, forcing them to shield their eyes with trembling hands. Not a single ghost could halt their advance; most were consumed by Bruni’s roaring flames, their fury amplified by Gale. The rock giants clashed with the colossal beasts, yet even they proved no match for the enormous, stone-skinned creatures. One by one, the enemy fell before Anna and her companions, and soon, they crossed the threshold of the palace.

They dismounted from the reindeer and entered the grand hall, where Yelana, Mattias, and the Duke were taking a brief respite after a long and grueling ordeal. Emotions ran high as they embraced, hearts heavy with relief, as if they had been parted for far too long.

"Your Majesty, you have returned! Thank the heavens!" the Duke exclaimed, joy shining in his eyes. "We have worried endlessly for you since you did not come back with Pabbie. I feared something might have befallen you."

"I am sorry for causing such fear," Anna said, her voice trembling with emotion. "But I am here now.

"Yelana..." Honeymaron embraced the elder woman, his voice thick with emotion. "Forgive me for leaving you behind..."

"It is alright," Yelana replied. "As long as you live, our hearts are at ease."

"Is all well here?" Anna asked, turning to Yelana and Mattias.

"We have persevered for many hours," Mattias said. "Our soldiers are now exhausted. Before this, we evacuated all our people to the North mountain to take refuge, so none remain in danger within the city."

Anna and Kristoff exhaled a long, shuddering sigh, as if a great weight of worry had finally lifted from their hearts. Yet Anna’s relief was abruptly pierced when her eyes fell upon a grievous wound concealed beneath Mattias’s coat. She stepped forward, bending to examine him with care.

"You have fought valiantly, Mattias! Now rest. From this moment onward, let us bear the burden," she said, her voice firm yet gentle.

"It is nothing, Your Majesty! I remain able to fight. The legacies of King Agnarr must be protected," Mattias replied, his pride unwavering.

"This is an order, Mattias!" Anna commanded, her tone resolute and stern.

Mattias said nothing further. He lowered his head and exhaled a heavy sigh, a mixture of disappointment and relief coursing through his heart. Rising, he straightened his posture and rendered a crisp military salute.

"As you command!" he said, then turned and strode back into the hall.

"All of you have labored greatly as well!" Anna addressed the Duke, Yelana, and Pabbie, her voice warm yet commanding. "Take your rest, and await our orders."

"We understand!" they replied in unison, voices firm and resolute.

They began to disperse in different directions, when suddenly Pabbie remembered something he had yet to reveal. He approached Anna with haste.

"I have something you must know, Your Majesty," he said.

"What is it?" Anna asked, her eyes alert.

"The leader of the army out there is not Vegrandór," Pabbie revealed. "It is merely one of his servants. But, Your Majesty, you would do well to remain vigilant—his power rivals that of the spirits themselves."

"I understand! Thank you, Pabbie," she said with a warm smile. "Now, rest."

Pabbie nodded, transforming back into stone before rolling away from their midst.

"We must move swiftly!" Kristoff declared. "Let us put an end to this once and for all!"

They stepped forth with an illustrious bearing, and as they did, lights began to shimmer once more above them while the cold winds howled with renewed ferocity. Anna and Kristoff raised their swords high, as if proclaiming to all below, "I am here—follow me!"

"All of you have fought with unmatched courage!" Kristoff thundered. "From this moment, the entire army will march under the command of Queen Anna and myself. Support her, and all who stand with her—including me—to vanquish the enemy before you!"

The soldiers, beholding Anna and Kristoff, felt their spirits surge. The return of their leader, fighting shoulder to shoulder with them, rekindled their resolve. Rising to their feet, they gripped their weapons and rallied, following Anna and Kristoff toward the harbor with renewed determination.

The enemy’s leader stood tall, a grim silhouette over the lifeless body of a fallen Northuldra warrior. He grasped a blazing sword, its flames roaring as if doused in oil, yet the weapon remained unscathed. Around him, countless ghosts gathered, ready to surge forth in another relentless wave of attack.

Patience had long left him. After wave upon wave of fierce assaults had failed, and now with the spirits of the Northuldra forest confronting him, he personally led Vegrandór’s army forward. His horse pawed the ground and pranced, then he galloped toward Anna, the ghosts charging in his wake.

"Ready for battle!" Kristoff shouted.

The Arendellian soldiers took up defensive positions at his command. Anna raised Alasadir’s bottle of water once more, and the two sides clashed in brutal, close-quarter combat. This time, however, the defenders were bolstered by fire from the city and the aid of the forest spirits. With renewed strength, they cut down countless ghosts and monstrous beasts. Before long, Vegrandór’s once-mighty army had been reduced to less than half its original numbers.

Yet the battle showed no sign of abating when a soldier came rushing toward Anna:

"Your Majesty! The warships of the Southern Isles have arrived!"

Anna followed swiftly to an open vantage point, her eyes widening as she beheld a fleet of warships cutting through the offshore waters, advancing toward Arendelle. Kristoff’s heart leapt with joy, and he seized the moment to rally the troops.

"Our reinforcements have arrived! Forward, all of you! Strike down the ghosts and reclaim victory!"

As for the enemy’s leader, upon glimpsing the countless warships of the Southern Isles, he realized the tide of battle had turned against him. Without hesitation, he ordered his troops to retreat, galloping straight toward the frozen north.

But the Arendellians were not about to let them escape unchallenged. Kristoff led the spirits in relentless pursuit, while the ships of the Southern Isles veered to intercept the enemy’s vanguard. These vessels, reinforced and sharpened to cleave through the ice, barred the ghosts from retracing their path. Behind them, Anna and the spirits pressed on, closing the distance with unyielding determination.

The enemy leader found himself trapped, a dead end closing around him. Dismounting from his steed, he resolved to confront both Anna and Kristoff directly. With sudden ferocity, he struck a blow aimed at Anna’s head, but with lightning reflexes, she twisted aside just in time. Bruni and Gale surged forward to strike him, yet the assault left him unscathed. Thus, the two clashed in a furious duel, while the surrounding ghosts became unwilling targets, swept into the maelstrom of their battle.

But the toll of combat and the immense energy spent in summoning lightning and bolts quickly drained him. Seizing the moment of his faltering, Bruni and Gale set him ablaze. And then, before their eyes, his soul materialized. Anna gasped as she recognized the familiar visage—years ago, this was the man who had sown chaos in Arendelle and had been imprisoned in the Southern Isles.

"Hans?" Anna whispered, disbelief etched across her face. "Why… why is it you?"

A ghostly smile curved Hans’s lips. "Surprised, Anna?" he said. "I have long known of Vegrandór’s existence. I escaped the Southern Isles and freed his spirit, trading for the power he granted me. My plan: to destroy Elsa and you, and, in the process, claim Arendelle for myself."

Fury ignited within Anna, and with a swift motion, she seized the sword Kristoff held, as if to drive it straight into Hans.

"That weapon is of no use against me now…" Hans’s voice rang out, dripping with contempt. "I am already dead. Better beware your own fate, Anna."

A chilling laugh erupted from his soul, echoing through the battlefield, before vanishing entirely—leaving Anna and Kristoff stunned, their eyes wide with disbelief.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

At the very heart of Ahtohallan, Vegrandór loomed, his spear leveled at Elsa and Olaf. A malicious smile twisted his lips, as though the moment he had long awaited had finally arrived.

"You mean… I freed you because I was here?" Elsa asked, her voice tinged with confusion, unable to grasp the full weight of his words.

"Exactly," Vegrandór replied, his tone cold and deliberate. "I must admit, it was a meticulously crafted plan to forestall my resurrection. But no matter how perfect the scheme… destiny cannot be outrun."

Slowly, he turned toward the doorway and there stood Alasadir—his eyes burning with murderous intent.

"Right, Alósseiðr?"

"What is Alasadir's plan after all?" Elsa asked, her voice trembling.

"It seems thou art far too inferior to Aren," Vegrandór said, his tone dripping with contempt. "Dost thou know why Alasadir wrought this place into many floors, and imprisoned a fragment of my spirit in its deepest abyss?"

Hearing this, Elsa’s heart seized with understanding: the condition for Vegrandór’s freedom was that another part of his spirit must remain here.

"It was thy wayward stubbornness, thy relentless pursuit of the whole truth about thy grandfather, that had caused thy magic to intertwine with my power. Thus I had harnessed thy strength to shatter his chains, slain thee, and forged thee into what thou art now."

"No… No way…" Elsa stammered.

At that very moment, Olaf cried out with a voice that shook the air:

"Elsa! Your legs!"

Suddenly, she felt her limbs stiffen and turn ice-cold. In that instant, the cruel truth struck her—Vegrandór was freezing her, just as he had proclaimed.

"All this is thy fault," he said, a cunning smile curling upon his lips. "Now, if thou dost not object, I shall reclaim the fragment of my spirit within thee."

With those words, he advances upon Elsa, intent on drawing forth her spirit. But from behind him, a torrent of power surges forth, striking the icy ground beneath Elsa and Olaf. In a blinding instant, the frozen floor shatters, and the two of them plummet into a bottomless abyss.

Vegrandór spinned around, only to behold Alasadir, staff raised, its tip aimed at the pit. It was plain to see: he had saved them from certain doom.

"Thinkest thou that I shall permit thee to do as thou wilt?" He said, his voice stern and unyielding.

"And what, pray tell, dost thou imagine thou canst do to me, traitor. Thy army contends against my hundred thousand troops, and none shall come to thy aid."

Raising the silver blade high, Alasadir points it unwaveringly at his foe.

"I am already resolved to die upon this field. Even should my body be crushed beneath the earth, I shall slay thee, to avenge my brother, and the Valtari souls who sank beneath the cold, merciless sea."

"Then I shall grant thee reunion with them, here and now, as fitting punishment for traitors."

As for Elsa and Olaf, they plunged into dark, unforgiving waters. From the shadowed depths, a figure emerged—a creature of water, sleek and powerful, bearing the form of a horse.

'Nokk?'

Chapter Text

Thus, the battle of Arendelle came to its end, with Vegrandór’s entire host utterly destroyed. The fjord was restored to its former calm, and the rays of the summer sun once more bathed the surrounding lands. Most of the ships lay in ruins, shattered by the terrible devastation wrought by both sides. The sky returned to its deep blue, while clouds drifted slowly above the mountain peaks. Cool winds swept the land, and countless flocks of birds soared toward Arendelle, as though heralding the end of suffocating tension and proclaiming the return of life to this place.

The people of Arendelle were now able to return safely to their homes, and little remained to be cleared after the battle, for the ghosts had vanished into the void upon their destruction. The warships of the Southern Isles had likewise completed their assigned duties, and most had returned, leaving only a single vessel behind. The spirits of the forest turned northward, setting out to return to their homeland.

Anna, Kristoff, and Yelana devoted a full day to holding a funeral for the soldiers and the Northuldra people who had fallen at the hands of Vegrandór’s army. When the rites were concluded, they turned at once to discussing the search for Olaf. They sat together upon the sofa before the hearth, in the room where they had so often lived, laughed, and played side by side.

“Where could he truly be?” Kristoff said. “During the battle, I never saw him taken by the enemy, nor did I see him depart with the spirits.”

“If that is so, then there is only one possibility,” Anna replied. “Olaf must still be on Alasadir’s island. We have to return to that place immediately.”

“It would take an entire week to reach it again, Anna,” Kristoff said. “Think carefully.”

“But I cannot abandon Olaf! Elsa and I created him when we were still very young. He is a testament to the bond and warmth between Elsa and me, and I must find him, no matter the cost.”

“Anna…” Kristoff fell silent.

Suddenly, a shaft of light descended upon their right side, shining directly into the room. Moments later, four human figures took shape within the radiance, like the sculptures Elsa had once witnessed at Ahtohallan. From them arose voices—echoes of Aren’s conversation with Vegrandór, followed by the alliance’s dialogue with Alasadir. One by one, all the truths behind Alasadir’s secret handclasp with Aren were laid bare before Anna and Kristoff.

“What is this?” Kristoff asked. “Why has a voice suddenly spoken from nowhere?”

“I know where Olaf is—and Elsa as well,” Anna said.

“You do?” Kristoff asked, suspicion coloring his voice.

Anna took out her parents’ map—the one she had recovered long ago from the shipwreck—and studied the route leading to Ahtohallan. Pointing to a marked spot, she turned to Kristoff and said,

“Last time, Elsa sent me a message in this very way, to reveal the truth that our grandfather had killed the leader of the Northuldra. That means Vegrandór must have captured her and brought her here.”

“I understand,” Kristoff said. “But I don’t think this is the end. It’s very likely that Vegrandór is pursuing something far more important…”

Suddenly, Kristoff fell silent, as though a realization had struck him—one so sudden that it left Anna confused.

“Kristoff?” Anna asked.

“Oh… I know what his goal is now,” Kristoff went on. “It’s to destroy Alasadir.”

“What?” Anna still did not understand.

They were seated deep in discussion when, all at once, a sharp tapping sounded at the door of the chamber.

“Your Majesty,” a voice called out. “I have urgent matters to speak of with you.”

At the sound of that voice, they knew at once that the Duke stood outside.

“Come in,” Anna said.

The door swung open, and the Duke hurried inside, his haste stirring unease in all who beheld him.

“What troubles you so greatly?” Kristoff asked.

“Your Majesty!” the Duke cried. “Thick smoke is rising in the sky to the northwest. And the moon— the moon has taken on a demoniacal aspect!”

This time, panic seized them all. They rushed outside and beheld exactly what the Duke had described: vast clouds of black smoke and drifting ash poured in from the northwest, shrouding the sky in darkness. And there was more. Where the smoke thinned, the moon suddenly turned blood-red, and three gaping hollows appeared upon its face, forming visages like those they had once seen in Alasadir’s domain. Even the people of Arendelle poured into the streets to witness this strange omen, and terror spread among them without restraint.

“Now I understand why the inside of the castle has seemed so dark to me,” Kristoff said. “It was because of this smoke. But where does it come from?”

“I don’t know… wait!” Anna suddenly recalled something. “Isn’t there a volcano near Vegrandór’s tomb?”

“Could it be that this smoke is coming from that place?”

No sooner had their words fallen silent than an immensely powerful wind surged from the direction of Ahtohallan toward where they stood, nearly sweeping them off their feet. In that instant, a sudden realization struck Anna’s heart, and a wave of dread rose within her once more.

“We must go to Ahtohallan at once!” Anna ordered. “Prepare a vessel immediately!”

Suddenly, Anna collapsed to her knees, clutching her belly and crying out in agony, as though something within her was twisting violently, tearing at every fiber of her flesh. Seeing this, Kristoff rushed to her side and helped her up.

“Are you all right, Anna?” the blond guy asked anxiously. “You’re sweating so much.”

“I’m fine… We have to get there immediately…”

At that very moment, a rock came tumbling down before them—and before their eyes, it transformed into a troll. It was Pabbie.

“I urge you not to go there, Your Majesty,” he said, stepping forward to bar her path. “This kingdom still needs your guidance, as do the people of Arendelle. If you are not here, who will they turn to? Who will they heed?”

Suddenly, a voice rang out from behind them:

“Leave this matter to me!”

They turned, and there approached Crown Prince Rasmus of the Southern Isles, accompanied by his entourage. The crown prince was a tall man with short hair, clad in a yellow military uniform and polished black leather boots, his presence commanding attention.

“While you are away, I shall take charge of this place,” Rasmus declared. “I will watch over and care for the people of Arendelle with all diligence.”

“On behalf of the Arendellians, I thank you sincerely, Crown Prince,” Anna said, bowing before him.

“You are most welcome. Yet I must also apologize, for my foolish brother brought chaos upon this land before… Therefore—”

“We do not wish to dwell on that, Crown Prince! We know you are not like Hans. As heir to the throne of the Southern Isles, please protect my people generously while we are away.”

Crown Prince Rasmus inclined his head in acknowledgment, then turned and strode toward the castle.

“So… how shall we reach Ahtohallan now?” Kristoff asked.

Suddenly, a fierce wind tore through the streets, and purple flames danced along the lampposts. The ground shuddered beneath their feet as small tremors cracked the cobblestones. Anna and Kristoff sensed immediately that these were signs of the spirits.

“Perhaps the spirits have sensed what is unfolding as well,” Pabbie said.

Suddenly, a very familiar vessel appeared at the mouth of the fjord. It was immense, its sails billowing as they drank in the sea breeze.

“Isn’t that Halor’s ship?” Kristoff asked. “What could he be doing here?”

“Let us go aboard and see,” Anna said.

“Allow me to come with you,” Pabbie said. “I know this person, and there are matters I must consult him about.”

“You know Halor, Pabbie?” Anna asked.

“Now is not the time to explain. Just board the ship, and we shall speak there.”

No sooner had Pabbie finished speaking than a soldier came running up.

“Your Majesty! All of our ships have been severely damaged—there is only one small boat left,” he reported, pointing toward a modest vessel nestled between two larger ships under repair.

“That will suffice,” Pabbie said, gesturing toward the ship in the fjord. “Hurry and take us to that vessel.”

The three of them climbed into the small boat, and the soldier guided them swiftly across the water. As they drew near, their eyes fell upon Halor standing in the cockpit. There could be no doubt—this was his ship.

Halor looked down and saw Anna and Kristoff approaching. He dropped anchor and called out to them:

“Hey! Are you the ones from the island where Alasadir dwells?”

“That’s us!” Kristoff replied, his voice carrying across the water. “Please, let us aboard!”

Halor lowered a ladder, and one by one, the three of them climbed onto the ship.

“Where are you headed, Halor?” Anna asked.

“I have just delivered cargo to a merchant in the Duchy of Weselton. Now I am returning to my own country,” Halor replied.

“Could you let us hitch a ride to Vegrandór’s tomb?” Kristoff pleaded. “We face a grave problem that must be dealt with there.”

Halor hesitated. In truth, he was aware of the war between Vegrandór’s army and Arendelle, and he suspected it had something to do with Alasadir. Yet, given the present circumstances, venturing there was far too perilous.

“I know you have no part in this, and we do not wish to drag you into it,” Anna said. “We only ask that you take us there. Please, help us.”

Halor sighed. “Very well. I will take you there, but this time, I will not accompany you unto death as I did before.”

“Thank you ever so much, Halor!” Anna and Kristoff exclaimed in unison.

Then, just as Halor had lifted the anchor, something occurred that filled them with shock: from the distance, the rock giants emerged, striding into the sea and heading northward.

“What has become of the spirits?” Kristoff asked, his voice tense with worry.

“Perhaps something in the Dark Sea has summoned them,” Pabbie replied gravely, “and they could not resist the call.”

Suddenly, a monstrous figure appeared in the sky, resembling a colossal bird. It shrieked and swooped back and forth above them, spreading panic and forcing them to seek cover.

“What is that thing?!” Kristoff shouted. “Did Vegrandór send it to capture us?”

“I do not think he wishes merely to capture us,” Halor said. “If he intended to kill, that alone would be enough!”

Yet then the giant creature descended and perched upon Halor’s ship with astonishing grace and gentleness, leaving them even more bewildered. In that moment, they realized it resembled a phoenix, though its entire form was made of shimmering ice. The creature turned its gaze northward, where the sky darkened ominously, and remained perfectly still.

Anna felt a warmth emanating from the phoenix, a sense that was strangely homely and comforting. Slowly, she stepped closer and extended her hand toward it.

“ANNA!” Kristoff cried, alarmed.

Yet what astonished them even more was what followed: the phoenix lowered its majestic head, bowing with complete obedience, allowing Anna to touch it. In that instant, she realized the truth—this magnificent creature had been created by Elsa.

“Elsa created you?” she whispered, her voice trembling.

The phoenix nodded.

“There is nothing to fear, everyone!” Anna called to those still hiding. “This creature was created by Elsa—come forward!”

One by one, they stepped from their hiding places and approached the phoenix. It offered no resistance, nor did it display the slightest disobedience. Gradually, they became accustomed to its presence.

Suddenly, the phoenix bent lower and spread its enormous wings of ice. None could fathom what it intended to do.

“What ails it?” Halor asked. “Is it hurt somewhere?”

“I believe it wishes for us to climb upon it, so that it may carry us somewhere,” Pabbie replied.

In that moment, a chilling thought struck Anna. She cried aloud:

“It wants to take us to Elsa! She must be in danger and in need of our aid!”

“You are right, Your Majesty,” Pabbie agreed gravely. “Hurry, climb upon it, so that it may bear us to Queen Elsa.”

One by one, they carefully mounted the back of the ice phoenix. With a single powerful flap of its wings, they were lifted into the air. Another flap carried them even higher, and with each beat, they soared ever upward, until they were far above the land, flying straight toward the north.

They clung desperately to the phoenix’s back as it cut through the sky at incredible speed—almost matching the fierce winds of the Arctic itself. Each of them remembered all too well the terror of the winds during their journey to Alasadir’s castle.

“Wait… Halor!” Anna exclaimed in surprise. “Why are you here? You said you would no longer involve yourself in mortal danger!”

“When I saw this, I changed my mind!” he said, eyes gleaming with excitement. “How could I miss a once-in-a-thousand-year chance to ride such a creature! I’ve already anchored my ship, and there’s no cargo aboard, so there is nothing to fear losing!”

“What kind of bird is this, after all?” Kristoff shouted, still struggling to comprehend. “Where is it truly taking us?”

It did not take long for the blond man to realize the truth. Before them rose the mountain to which Alasadir had once led them—Vegrandór’s tomb. The ice phoenix gradually descended, landing upon a jagged shoreline. Beside it, the volcano spewed molten lava, rivers of fire coursing down toward the lands below, threatening to engulf everything in its path. Yet what struck them with even greater terror lay beyond the sea.

“Tell me you see what I see!” Anna exclaimed, frozen in place. “Otherwise… my eyes must be failing me!”

The sea was torn into tumultuous layers, and countless bolts of lightning struck Ahtohallan, which stood at the very center of the swirling waters. From the tempest arose innumerable shipwrecks, carried aloft by the raging currents before plummeting straight toward them. The vessels fell like relentless raindrops, forcing them to dash for shelter in a small, jagged cave.

“I cannot even fathom how many people have attempted to come here!” Kristoff exclaimed. “Look at the sheer number of ships—they outnumber Arendelle’s entire fleet tenfold!”

“I assure you,” Pabbie said gravely, “that these are the vessels of the nobles from the northern kingdoms.”

Anna’s eyes fell upon something of a striking Paris green in Pabbie’s hand.

“You’re holding Vegrandór’s crystal?” she asked.

“Indeed,” Pabbie replied. “I have always kept it close, fearing it might fall into the hands of villains. But now is not the time for discussion—we must reach Ahtohallan at once!”

Halor stared at the crystal, and suddenly a long-forgotten memory stirred within him. Turning to Pabbie, he said,

“Is that not the crystal I sold to Oaken?”

“Wait…” Anna’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean, ‘sold’?”

“I secretly retrieved it from his shop,” Pabbie whispered. “Then…”

But at that very moment, the layered seas collapsed, and an impossibly towering tsunami surged toward them, turning their already desperate fear into sheer panic.

“What on earth is happening in Ahtohallan?!” Kristoff shouted, his frustration mingling with terror.

“I have no idea!” Anna cried back. “All we can know is that nothing is within our control!”

“What should we do now?!” Halor exclaimed, panic rising in his voice. “I will not be drowned in such a tragic fate!”

“Wait!” Pabbie pointed ahead. “Someone approaches—on horseback! How peculiar!”

The tsunami crashed over them, and for a brief moment, all was a blur of water and fury. Yet, to their astonishment, not a single hair of theirs was wet. As they opened their eyes, they saw the ice phoenix, its colossal wings wrapped around them, shielding them from the raging waves. No matter how high the torrent rose, they remained unharmed.

Once the waters had subsided, the phoenix spread its wings once more and turned toward a figure approaching—riding a water horse. Behind her, another figure, short and slender, followed closely.

“Elsa…” Anna whispered, narrowing her eyes as recognition and hope surged within her.

Chapter Text

Rewinding to the moment when Elsa had been taken, a fragment of Vegrandór’s spirit—unleashed by Hans—commanded ten thousand restless ghosts and carried Elsa directly to Ahtohallan. There, they met the army of Alasadir, the two forces arriving almost simultaneously. With ruthless fury, Vegrandór’s spectral host launched a devastating assault. Amidst the bloody clash, he seized the opportunity to enter the glacier’s tunnel, merging with the other fragment of his essence.

Having freed Elsa and Olaf, Alasadir seated himself amid a space bathed in a crimson glow—the red of blood mingling with the icy sheen of sculptures carved from snow, each shaped like a person screaming or desperately clinging to life.

“Thy taste of art is… rather unique, Alósseiðr,” Vegrandór sneered.

“Dost thou not remember them, Vegrandór?” Alasadir replied, his voice cold and unyielding.

Gradually, the sculptures began to wail, moan, and weep bitterly, their cries filled with desperation. Each lament spoke of the catastrophe that had befallen the Valtari Empire a thousand years ago.

“Let me help thee remember,” Alasadir said, his words deliberate, heavy with weight. “Every… single… one!”

Vegrandór watched it for a while, and it seemed that he also realized what he had done.

"Enough!" He yelled. "Thou let the girl with Arundil and Northuldra blood escape. I shalt kill thee for daring to let the two of them escape! Then handle the fifth spirit and her sister!"

"Thou pushed the entire race of Hráþarr to death at the bottom of the cold sea. Thou forfeited the lives of all of them just because of your shallowness. And it's also thee... who put an end to the golden age of the Valtari Empire that thine ancestors had tried so hard to build its foundation."

"Dost thou really think that my empire is over? No, no! The foundations of the Valtari Empire still remain, and I shalt smash away all the filth of this north to rebuild my glory. But that won't be possible, as long as there are people in my way like thee."

At that point Alasadir's indignation had kindled, and he stood up and waved his hand. Immediately the snow sculptures disappeared and got replaced by ghosts rushing to attack Vegrandór. But it was clear that they were not his opponents, and all those ghosts got sucked into the ring on Vegrandór's finger.

"Thou really wantest to fight against me?" He frowned and said, "Dost thou know what the consequences will be? Remember that everything is thy fault, Alósseiðr."

"It was thee who had caused my brother to die tragically!" Alasadir said loudly. "Today, I shall make thee suffer the same fate!"

"Thou dost know that I'm so pragmatic that even if a creditable officer betrays, I will kill him as well, Alósseiðr? Let me see my will, and thy thirst for revenge, which is greater."

No sooner had their words ceased than the two clashed, launching into a duel of such ferocity that it seemed the heavens themselves had trembled. Alasadir wielded his silver blade and staff with deadly precision, while Vegrandór countered with his formidable spear, each strike reverberating with unimaginable power. The battle raged with such intensity that Ahtohallan itself quaked violently. The nearby volcano beside Vegrandór’s tomb erupted, sending plumes of smoke spiraling southward, a sight that Anna and the others had once witnessed from Arendelle after the previous battle there.

The two clashed outside the glacier, locked in a duel that seemed endless, yet neither could gain the upper hand. Vegrandór, perceiving that such a stalemate would inevitably invite reinforcements to Alasadir’s side, resolved to tip the scales. He summoned bolts of lightning, reminiscent of the devastation wrought upon Arendelle, intent on sapping Alasadir’s strength with ruthless precision. He had known all too well that Alasadir’s physical might was weaker than that of ordinary sorcerers, and so he aimed straight for his foe’s Achilles’ heel.

Alasadir perceived the threat and gathered his power. For a moment, his staff blazed with light, cutting through the darkness of the Dark Sea, and he struck it forcefully upon the ground. Instantly, a rumble erupted, violent and relentless, like the roar of a thousand speeding trains. The sea itself tore apart, rising in tumultuous layers, as Anna, Kristoff, Halor, Sven, and Pabbie beheld in awe.

“Thou dost truly seek to kill me, Alósseiðr!” Vegrandór shouted, his excitement palpable. “Come, face me!”

'This shall be my greatest strike, either one of us will fall, or perhaps both...' Alasadir thought grimly.

Then, once more, they lunged at each other. A blinding flash of light exploded around them, so immense that none who beheld it could see aught but brilliance.

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Back in the present, Anna and Elsa held each other tightly, both so overwhelmed with emotion that they stayed silent for a long moment, as if the years of separation had vanished in an instant.

“Oh, Elsa…” Anna whispered, tears in her eyes. “I’m so glad you’re safe.”

“I’m fine, Anna,” Elsa replied, smiling softly. “Let’s get out of here quickly.”

“Yeah,” Anna said, returning the smile and nodding. “Let’s go back.”

“Wait!” Kristoff called out. “You’re really going home, Anna?”

“Of course!” she replied honestly. “Isn’t our goal here to save Elsa and Olaf? Now that we’ve done that, we should return—everyone’s still waiting for us back home.”

“I have something I want to tell you, Anna.”

“Okay… just say it,” Anna said, a puzzled look crossing her face.

Kristoff raised his voice, his expression serious as he began his analysis.

“Do you all know why Vegrandór started the war in Arendelle… but then appeared here?”

No one answered. Kristoff continued.

“Obviously, if he wanted to be resurrected, he would have to appear in Arendelle, since that’s where the spirits were… and the crystal too. If he had gone all out, he could’ve achieved his goal.”

“Well, that makes sense,” Elsa said. “But maybe he didn’t know the exact location of the spirits, and he overestimated the strength of his army—so he didn’t show up there.”

“That’s not it, Elsa,” Kristoff said. “He knew exactly where the spirits were from the start. The thing is… among us, only one of us has the strength to stand against him—no one else.”

Anna and Elsa realized that the person Kristoff was referring to was none other than Alasadir.

“Wait, Kristoff,” Pabbie said. “You mean Vegrandór was targeting Alasadir from the very start, and the battle in Arendelle was just a distraction to trap us?”

“Exactly, Grand Pabbie!” Kristoff grinned. “That’s why he focused all his efforts on annihilating Alasadir first. No matter what happened in Arendelle, it didn’t concern him.”

“That’s why he split his army into two forces: one to attack Arendelle, and the other to confront Alasadir, right?” Halor asked.

“That’s right, Halor!” Kristoff said. “As soon as he eliminates Alasadir, he can take Ahtohallan and devastate the southern kingdoms, because his only real opposition will be gone.”

“If that’s the case, then we have to help Alasadir right away!” Anna said.

“Are you crazy, Anna?” Elsa interjected. “Haven’t I already shown you that our ancestors handed his brother over to Vegrandór? Do you think he’ll forgive us—or will he turn his army against Arendelle once Vegrandór is defeated?”

Anna fell silent, unable to reply. Her sister was right: with Alasadir’s personality, he would be determined to avenge his brother. Yet if they just stood by, waiting, the moment he faced Vegrandór alone, they themselves would be in danger. There were only two choices now: join forces with Alasadir, or retreat and wait to see who would strike first—him or Vegrandór.

“I’ll go help Alasadir myself!” Elsa said. “After all, our ancestors made a grave mistake, and I have to do what I can to fix it. If he wants punishment, I’ll take it all.”

“I’ll go with you too, Elsa!” Anna said firmly. “I’m the Queen of Arendelle—I have to take responsibility for this.”

Kristoff stepped up beside Anna and placed a hand on her shoulder.

“If you’re going, both Sven and I will follow you,” he said.

“I’ll go too,” Pabbie added. “I can help you deal with Vegrandór, more or less.”

“You guys…” Anna murmured, her heart full, touched by their unity.

“Hey! Don’t forget about me!” Olaf called out.

“What can you do?” Kristoff snorted. “Make Vegrandór laugh to death? Oh, I see—you can stand outside and cheer us on.”

“I’m coming too,” Halor said.

“You want to join this too?” Anna asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m selling the company anyway, so this will be my last trip up north,” Halor smiled. “Besides, I need to tell Alasadir that I won’t be continuing business with him, nor will I visit his island again in the future.”

“You’re quitting being a businessman?” Olaf asked, surprised.

“Actually, I’ve been thinking about it for a long time. After meeting all of you and learning about Alasadir’s health, I’ve decided to sell everything, find a certain lady to date, and finally end my lonely days.”

Everyone could only grin at Halor’s words.

“Okay,” Anna said. “How do we get there now?”

They all turned to the ice phoenix, as if the answer had been obvious all along. The phoenix lowered itself, allowing them to climb onto its back, and then it soared toward Ahtohallan. Below them, the sea churned with ghosts, and the battle raged fiercely. But the phoenix did not head there—it flew toward the area where terrifying lightning struck the layered waters. As they flew, Elsa recounted everything that had happened at Ahtohallan, including how Alasadir had saved her, though she said nothing about her reunion with their parents to Anna.

“So that means a part of Vegrandór’s spirit is inside you?” Anna asked.

“Perhaps that’s why he appeared in my dreams, Anna,” Elsa replied.

“So the fact that Alasadir gave us this bottle of water—it was all part of his plan?” Kristoff said. “He must have known Vegrandór would try to gather the five spirits to reclaim the last pieces, so he gave this to us to stand against Vegrandór’s army.”

“But I suppose Vegrandór was even one step ahead,” Pabbie said. “Just think about it, Kristoff—Vegrandór, the crystal in my hand, Elsa, and a part of his spirit… are they all sealed here together?”

“So that means he has a strong chance of being resurrected, right?” Anna asked. “This is bad! We have to help Alasadir now!”

“Don’t act recklessly, Anna,” Elsa said. “Our enemy this time is Vegrandór.”

“So we just sit here and watch them fight?” Anna shot back. “If Vegrandór wins, won’t you die, and your spirit become part of him too?”

“Calm down, Anna,” Kristoff said. “I know we don’t have much time, but we only have one shot—and we have to make it count.”

They flew for about ten minutes before reaching the battlefield in front of Ahtohallan. A sea of ghosts clashed violently, and Elsa had to freeze the surface of the water, creating snow monsters—the same kind she had made in the past to rescue Anna from the ice castle, known amusingly as Marshmallow. At the same moment, heavy rain began to fall, and Halor quickly came up with an idea.

“Hey, everyone! I think I’ve got a way to take out a bunch of ghosts at once, really fast,” he called out.

“What is it?” Elsa asked, intrigued.

Halor whispered his plan to them for a moment, leaving them visibly surprised. Anna turned to him and asked again,

“You really think this will work, Halor?”

“How will you know if you don’t try?” he replied confidently. “The reason I’ve done well in business is because I take big risks. If this works, we give Alasadir and his troops a huge advantage. If not… well, we’ve got nothing to lose.”

Hearing him, they all agreed to give it a try. Elsa used her powers to freeze the falling raindrops, turning them into sharp shards of ice. Anna held up Alasadir’s bottle of water, its glow making Vegrandór’s ghosts even more vulnerable. The ghosts were dazzled by the light, and just as they faltered, the ice shards rained down like arrows. Anyone struck vanished into the void.

“It worked!” everyone exclaimed in amazement. “You’re a genius, Halor!”

“See? You’ve got to try it to know it works!” he said, clearly proud of himself.

“Look, everyone!” Olaf shouted, pointing toward Ahtohallan. “Over there!”

They looked up at the glacier, where lightning cracked the sky—proof that the battle between Vegrandór and Alasadir was far from over. Knowing they had arrived in time, Elsa froze the waters below, giving them a safe place to descend from the ice phoenix. From afar, the spirits of the Enchanted Forest also appeared.

“The spirits are here too?” Elsa said, surprised.

“Looks like they responded to someone’s call,” Pabbie said.

“How do we even reach them?” Anna asked. “Are we just supposed to stand here, watch them fight, and jump in later?”

But they didn’t have to wait long. Someone suddenly fell from the glacier before them—it was Alasadir. His silver blade slipped from his hand and clattered against the rocks beside him. A phantom-like figure appeared in front of him. Alasadir quickly picked up his silver blade and raised his ringed hand.

“Alasadir!” Elsa shouted, panic rising in her voice.

“Vegrandór…” Pabbie said, fear evident in his tone. “He’s furious.”

Alasadir still struggled to rise after that strike, and at that moment, Vegrandór turned his gaze toward Elsa’s side. He towered over everyone, far taller than Alasadir, his body wrapped in black and Paris green. His face was expressionless, eerily lifeless, sending chills down their spines.

“I once believed that unifying the entire North wouldst be enough to bring lasting peace,” he said coldly. “But that traitor—and all of you—have proven me wrong. As long as power is divided, there shalt always be chaos. War shalt never truly end.”

He began to walk toward them, each step slow and deliberate, the silver blade in his hand glinting ominously.

“Yeah,” Anna said, forcing herself to speak. “We tend to be pretty stubborn.”

“I’m grateful for that,” he replied with a thin, mocking edge to his voice. “Because thanks to you, I've changed my mind. I will resurrect—and I shalt wipe everything out, starting here, then Arundil, and everything beyond.”

He studied the silver blade in his hand and smiled, no longer bothering to conceal his thoughts from them.

“And then…” he continued, “with the power I gain, I shalt build a new empire—an empire without history, without humans, but with eternal peace. A world where suffering and loss no longer exist. Where there is no shadow, and no death.”

Elsa began to channel her magic, raising her hands as she prepared to strike. Vegrandór’s crown flared with light, a ghastly power radiating from him.

“A beautiful empire,” he said with a grin.

“Built on blood,” Elsa shot back.

“They will never know,” he replied coldly.

He shifted into a stance, ready to strike them all down.

“Because none of you will be alive to tell them.”

The battle erupted, Vegrandór against Elsa, Pabbie, Anna, Olaf, Kristoff, Sven, and the spirits. All five spirits launched relentless attacks, striking him from head to toe, but the silver blade revealed its true power in Vegrandór’s hands. Every strike Elsa made was effortlessly blocked. With a sudden leap, he slammed the blade into the ground. The force was immense—shockwaves tore through the battlefield, hurling everyone into the air and throwing them aside. Each of them was battered, bruised, and too weak to rise.

“Are you okay, Elsa?” Anna asked, her voice tight with worry.

“I’m… fine,” Elsa replied, struggling to rise. “But he’s too strong. My powers… they’re nowhere near his.”

Vegrandór advanced toward the two sisters, raising his sword to deliver a fatal strike. But suddenly, from behind, Pabbie unleashed a strange spell, holding him back with all his might and preventing him from reaching Elsa. Seeing this, Anna rushed to Pabbie’s side, raising Alasadir’s bottle of water. Its radiant light struck Vegrandór, stunning him for a few precious seconds. Kristoff seized the moment, leaping onto Sven and lifting Anna onto the reindeer’s back. Elsa mounted Nokk, ready to move.

“We have to get away from him,” Elsa warned. “He’s going to pull us right to him.”

They saw Vegrandór raise his ringed finger toward Elsa and immediately understood his intent. Sven and Nokk dashed toward the sea as Elsa froze the water beneath the reindeers’ hooves. In a sudden strike, Vegrandór hit Pabbie and seized him by the neck. He snatched the crystal from Pabbie’s hand and hurled him like a stone. Pabbie slammed against the cliff and collapsed to the ground, motionless.

"Those wretched trolls!" He says angrily. "The first thing I exterminate after resurrecting shalt be all of them."

Vegrandór began to unleash his power, and the sky lit up with streaks of red lightning, bolts striking the surface of the sea with deadly precision, targeting Sven and the water spirit as they raced at full speed.

“Faster, buddy!” Kristoff shouted. “FASTER!”

The lightning hammered down like a storm, shattering Elsa’s ice and sending shards floating across the surface. Even Vegrandór’s own army wasn’t spared—many were struck and vanished into the void, while others panicked, dodging or fleeing. The chaos was so intense that Sven had to weave through both ghosts and lightning with precision.

Just as it seemed Vegrandór’s assault would never end, someone leapt from above and clung to his head—Olaf! The snowman wrapped around him, momentarily pausing the thunderbolt attacks. Vegrandór flung Olaf toward the frozen sea, but the snowman landed safely on the ice. Seizing the moment, Bruni, Gale, and the rock giants attacked Vegrandór directly, forcing him to dodge blow after blow and giving Elsa, Kristoff, and the others precious time to escape.

Kristoff rushed over and gathered all of Olaf’s pieces.

“Are you okay, Olaf?” Kristoff asked, his voice a mix of worry and disbelief. “What you just did… that was pure madness!”

“Don’t worry about me. He’s already taken down Pabbie and Alasadir… and now he has the crystal, too.”

“That means he’s already gathered three parts of his spirit,” Elsa said grimly.

“What do we do now?” Anna asked, panic creeping into her voice. “He’s too powerful… there’s no way we can stop him like this.”

No sooner had they spoken than a lightning bolt struck the very spot where they stood, hurling them backward onto the icy shore of Ahtohallan. The sheer force of it sent them sprawling into the freezing Arctic waters, numbing their bodies instantly.

Before they could recover, Vegrandór unleashed his power, rooting them to the ground and freezing their limbs in place. They struggled, but it was useless—every movement was blocked, every muscle locked. Vegrandór advanced toward Elsa, his silver blade raised, glinting in the cold light.

“Look, Aren!” he shouted. “See how tragically thy foolish descendants shalt die! From this moment on, no one but me shalt hold supreme power in the North!”

Elsa could do nothing but squeeze her eyes shut, bracing herself for the strike. It seemed like everything would end in mere seconds.

“ELSA! NO!” Anna screamed, her voice cracking with fear.

Pain surged through her belly again, sharper than before, as if the baby inside her were panicking. But there was nothing she could do—Vegrandór’s power pinned her in place. Sweat poured down her face, and tears streaked her cheeks.

'I’m sorry…' she thought, choking back sobs.

Suddenly, a powerful strike hit Vegrandór from behind, slamming him painfully against the edge of the glacier. He grabbed his staff, his Paris green crown glowing above his head. Instantly, the suppression on everyone disappeared—they can move again.

Blinking through the shock, they looked up and saw Alasadir standing before them. His head was bleeding heavily, and he looked badly injured.

“Don’t forget… there’s still another king here, Vegrandór! You think I’ll let you do whatever you want?”

“Alasadir!” Elsa cried out.

Alasadir suddenly turned to Anna, concern in his eyes.

“How’s the baby? Is everything okay?”

Kristoff rushed to Anna, carefully lifting her in his arms. Her body felt hot, trembling with discomfort.

“Baby?” Elsa gasped, stunned. “You... you’re pregnant, Anna?”

Anna nodded quietly, but she didn’t meet Elsa’s gaze.

Anna leans weakly against Kristoff’s chest, her exhaustion finally taking over as she drifts into sleep.

Alasadir reached into his cloak and pulled out a small, marble-sized sphere, handing it carefully to Kristoff.

Kristoff blinked in surprise. “Alasadir… this is…”

“Give it to your wife. This herb will instantly ease her pain and heal her wounds. It can even revive someone if their life is in danger. I poured all the power The Almighty granted me into this single sphere. There’s only one, so it must be swallowed whole—nothing should be spat out.”

“But… what about you?” Olaf asked nervously. “Aren’t you seriously hurt too?”

Alasadir didn’t answer. He turns silently toward the shadow rising in the distance, his gaze cold and unflinching.

“All of you, stay here and take care of her! Leave him to me!” Alasadir shouted, his voice firm despite his exhaustion.

He staggered toward Vegrandór and landed a heavy blow to his stomach, sending him rolling across the glacier. But instead of fighting back, Vegrandór fled, vanishing into the depths of Ahtohallan. Alasadir didn’t hesitate—he pursued, moving faster than the terrain seemed to allow. He reached the very heart of Ahtohallan, only to see a figure that wasn’t Vegrandór, Elsa, or anyone he knew.

“Haskívarr…?”

Before he could react further, the figure collapsed, and from the shadows, Vegrandór struck. The ambush came with ruthless precision. Alasadir fell hard to the ground, and Vegrandór’s silver blade plunged toward his chest. With the last reserves of his strength, Alasadir slammed his staff upward, forcing the deadly strike to clash against it.

However, physical strength wasn't Alasadir's advantage and Vegrandór's blade finally pierced his heart. He made a cry of pain. But at that moment he struck Vegrandór's head with his staff. He fell away and dropped the blade. Alasadir rushed to take the blade from his reach, and then, swiftly and decisively, stabbed him in the head.

He let out a terrifying scream, a sound that echoed throughout the entire Ahtohallan. Then suddenly his spirit was burned by a white flame, out of nowhere. He desperately held on to all things left but it was too late, the flames had devoured all of him and vanished, leaving Alasadir alone with solitude.

Chapter Text

Outside, panic rippled through everyone as Vegrandór’s scream echoed across Ahtohallan. The ice phoenix swooped down, wrapped them in its massive wings to shield them. For a moment, the sky darkened around them, shadows stretching over the frozen sea. Yet, through the gloom, Alasadir’s water bottle flickered with a soft, steady glow.

“What’s happening inside Ahtohallan?” Elsa’s voice trembled. “Could it be… has Alasadir already been defeated?”

No sooner had Elsa finished speaking than a deafening rumble shook the air, like a massive wave crashing down on them. Everyone froze, eyes wide in terror.

“What’s happening out there?” Halor shouted over the roar.

“I have no idea,” Kristoff replied, his voice tense. “Maybe this bird is protecting us from it, but I don’t know how long it can hold.”

“Kristoff…” Anna lifted her hand, reaching for his face.

“You okay, Anna?” he asked, worry in his voice. “Did he hurt you?”

“No, honey…” Anna tried to smile, even though the pain still lingered. “Are you okay?”

Kristoff felt his heart tighten at Anna’s question. She had asked him this before, but back then, she had been in mortal danger. Now, thankfully, she was still here—with him—and carrying both their future and happiness. Yet that future felt incredibly fragile.

“Don’t worry about me,” Kristoff said, forcing a smile. “Your body’s overheated, Anna. We need to cool you down, right now.”

Elsa knelt beside her and placed a hand on Anna’s forehead. Immediately, a refreshing sensation spread through Anna’s body, like sipping an ice-cold glass of orange juice on a sunny summer beach.

“Elsa…” Anna whispered, a tear sliding down her cheek. “I’m sorry for hiding this from you. Even though I’ve always wanted you not to hide anything from us… I just…”

Elsa gently wiped the tear from Anna’s face with her fingertip.

“No, Anna!” she choked back her own tears. “You haven’t done anything wrong. You’ve been through so much. It’s me who should be apologizing to you…”

Tears streamed down Elsa’s face as well. She had always felt that she owed Anna more than she could ever repay. As Queen of Arendelle, she should have carried the weight of the kingdom, guiding their people as her father once did. But her own fear and weakness had forced her to leave Arendelle behind, abandoning the throne—and all her responsibilities—to Anna. She had left her sister to bear the burden, living in constant worry and stress. And now, learning that Anna was pregnant, Elsa’s guilt deepened. She shuddered at the thought of what might have happened if she hadn’t returned in time, if Vegrandór had succeeded. Her sister’s life—and the future of Arendelle’s lineage—had been hanging by a thread because of her own past choices.

Neither Olaf nor Halor said a word; they just watched, frozen in awe, at the scene unfolding before them. Then, suddenly, the ice phoenix spread its massive wings. A blinding light filled everyone’s vision. When their eyes adjusted, they saw the sea had calmed—no longer torn into jagged layers like before. The ghosts faded one by one, dissolving into mist that mingled with the Arctic winds. In an instant, Vegrandór’s entire army, along with Alasadir’s, vanished into the void, leaving the battlefield eerily empty.

Suddenly, Elsa’s expression shifted, leaving everyone confused. It was unclear whether she was being affected by something or if she was feeling unwell again. Anna quickly asked:

“What’s wrong, Elsa? Are you okay?”

“I just felt something… strange inside me,” Elsa replied. “It’s like it’s being burned, but there’s no actual heat. And… it also feels like I’ve just released something incredibly heavy from my body.”

“Maybe we should go inside and take a closer look,” Halor suggested.

“I’ll go check it out!” Olaf said, already running toward the area as if sprinting into an empty field.

“Wait, Olaf!” Elsa called after him.

But Olaf kept running as if the space ahead was completely empty. With no other choice, Elsa followed him into the depths of Ahtohallan. Anna, whose body had now cooled down, stayed outside with Kristoff and Halor.

Olaf reached the front first and saw Alasadir crouched on the icy ground. Beneath him lay a massive pool of blood, as if he had vomited out the last of it from his body. His staff rested vertically beside him. Without hesitation, Olaf ran straight to him.

“Alasadir! Hang on… everyone’s coming. We’ll save you…”

“There’s no need... My mission is complete. It’s time for me to leave this world… and rest in peace with the people of Hráþarr.”

“No, no!” Olaf pleaded, trying to keep him conscious. “You’re not going to die, Alasadir.”

A single tear slipped down Alasadir’s bloodstained face.

“Olaf… I’m sorry… for ever calling you a stupid snowman… I’m… thankful… that you’re here… beside me… At least I won’t die… alone…”

“Don’t say that, Alasadir,” Olaf said, his voice trembling. “It’s us who should apologize… for your brother’s fate.”

“My brother… was killed by Vegrandór and Aren, not by their descendants,” Alasadir hissed. “I hold no grudge against them…”

He coughed violently, blood spilling from his mouth. No one knew how much he’s lost, but it was clear: his time in this world was almost over.

“I will go… to my ancestors… with all the glory… and the pride of a victor. Go back… to where you belong… Olaf…”

Alasadir murmured, his voice barely more than a whisper.

“Farewell…”

Then, suddenly, his staff slipped from his hand and shattered into pieces, the sound startling Olaf.

“Alasadir…” Olaf called softly.

No answer. No movement. Not even a turn of the head toward the little snowman.

“Alasadir…” Olaf tried again, his voice cracking.

Still nothing.

“Look!” Olaf clung to a fragile sliver of hope. “They’re coming… Elsa, Anna, and Pabbie… Kristoff too… Alasadir…”

But even that hope faded. Olaf’s heart sank, and he could no longer deny the truth: Alasadir was gone.

When Elsa arrived, she only saw Olaf standing there, his head bowed in sorrow before Alasadir’s lifeless body. She realized it was truly over—the last of the Hráþarr was gone.

Together, Elsa and Olaf carried Alasadir’s body to the shore and set up a cremation pyre. They used their robes as kindling, wrapping him as if to shroud him in a final farewell. Before the flames were lit, everyone gathered around and bowed solemnly, paying their respects. Elsa remembered what Alasadir had told her when they had first arrived at Vegrandór’s tomb. Among all the people she had met, Alasadir was the one whose circumstances mirrored hers the most—and the one who had listened to her with the deepest sympathy.

Elsa instructed Bruni to cremate Alasadir’s body. Suddenly, they saw the soul of a young man rising, moving toward two others—one a young man with gray hair, the other a middle-aged woman. The three souls embraced each other, and together they looked at Elsa and the others, smiling gently.

Then, the souls vanished. A calm, fresh breeze swept through, and everyone lifted their eyes to see the sun rising in the east, its rays illuminating the deep blue sky above Ahtohallan. The light gave the entire place an otherworldly, magical glow.

Elsa realized that the three of them had finally been reunited in heaven.

“Rest in peace, Alasadir,” she whispered.

Chapter Text

“Hurry up, Mama!” a blonde child, about four years old, shouted. “I can’t wait to go to that island!”

A tall blonde man carrying a box of fruit replied:

“Calm down, Edvard! Your Aunt Elsa hasn’t even arrived yet. Why are you in such a hurry?”

A young red-haired woman stepped forward and said:

“Just ignore him, Kristoff. Come here, Edvard! Do you want to talk to your sibling before we leave?”

“Are you feeling better now, Anna?” Kristoff asked. “The doctors said you shouldn’t overexert yourself or eat things like chocolate.”

“I know! This time I’ll just bring vegetables and a little high-grade tea from the Southern Isles. You know, the tea Crown Prince Rasmus gave us—but we still don’t know what else to give them.”

“Let’s give them your father’s antiques. There’s no place for them in our palace anyway.”

“Sounds perfect, Kristoff. I’ll tell the Duke to prepare a list of the items and send Mattias to lead an envoy to the Southern Isles.”

Edvard ran up to Anna’s belly, making little jokes. Anna, six months pregnant, was wearing a loose dress.

“Are you done talking, Edvard?” a familiar snowman called from behind the door. “It’s my turn to greet the new member of the family!”

“That’s not fair, Olaf!” Edvard whined. “I haven’t said goodbye to my sister yet!”

“You already know you’re going to have a sister?” Olaf asked skeptically.

“I’m not sure, Olaf! But I’ve always wanted a sister to play with.”

“Okay, Edvard,” Anna said, taking out a Scheele’s green bottle of water. “Take this! It’s very important, so don’t drop it.”

“I got it, thanks, Mama!” the boy said excitedly.

Anna had just finished speaking when the sound of galloping horses reached her ears. She looked out over the fjord and saw Elsa riding Nokk toward them. After dismounting, Elsa ran to Anna and hugged her, then glanced down at Edvard.

“How’s everything on your end, Elsa?” Anna asked.

“Everything’s going well. The spirits are still living peacefully with the Northuldra people. Oh! Hello, Edvard!”

“You’re too late, Aunt Elsa!” Edvard said, pretending to scold her.

“I’m sorry, Edvard!” Elsa said, shaping a polar bear out of snow. “Here! This is for you!”

Edvard’s eyes lit up as he examined the little snow figure.

“Thank you so much, Aunt Elsa!” he exclaimed.

Anna smiled and walked over to Kristoff’s side:

“Let’s get started.”

They all quickly boarded the vessel—Anna, Elsa, Kristoff, Olaf, and Edvard—ready to set sail west-northwest toward the island where they had once met that mysterious man, one of the greatest rulers in the history of the North.

“Sven isn’t coming with us, Papa?” Edvard asked, looking around.

“No, Edvard,” Kristoff replied. “Sven’s been sick, so he has to stay with the Northuldra so they can take care of him. He won’t be coming along.”

“That’s too bad! We’ll pick some berries for him.”.

With the anchor raised, the vessel set off. Arendelle slowly faded from view, the familiar landscapes blurring into vast open waters, a deep blue sky, and the vibrant spirits of a new era.

THE END

Chapter Text

- Alasadir's real name was Alóssr, the name "Alasadir" is the Old Northuldra variant of "Alósseiðr"- a combination of his real name with the Norse word "seiðr" - which means a type of magic related to both the telling and the shaping of the future. On the other hand, Vegrandór's real name is Andór, the name "Vegrandór" is the combination of the Norse word "vegr" - which means "glory" and his real name. Finally, "Halor" comes from the word halogen - a group in the periodic table consisting of six chemically related : Florine (F), Chlorine (Cl), Bromine (Br), Iodine (I), and the elements (At) and (Ts).

- Alasadir and Vegrandór were built after the Norse mythological gods Odin and Thor, respectively.

- Halor's company name – East Spania – is a pun on the word España – referring to present-day Spain. The island where Alasadir lives is called "Šlávaiideana" – a combination of the Northern Sami words "Šláva" meaning "slave" and the word "eana" meaning "land".

- The name of the leader of the Northuldra people was "Ingorddid" - which literally means "the leader" in Northern Sami.

- The Hraþarr race was built after the Vikings.

- Šlávaiideana was built according to the landscape in Baffin Island, Canada. Vegrandór's tomb is based on Balin's tomb inside Moria in LOTR: The Fellowship of the Ring.

- Vergrandór was born in 797 and after 6 years Alasadir was born, i.e. 803.

- Alasadir was crowned king at the age of 41, in 844, the same year that Vegrandór also became emperor.

- Of all the Hráþarr generals, Alasadir was the only one who did not come from aristocratic background. Alasadir was also the only general who could fight both on land and at sea.

- During the campaign to unify the north of the Hráþarr, Alasadir fought a total of 33 battles, including 18 victories, 9 defeats and 6 inconclusive battles.

- Both Vegrandór and Alasadir were asexual.

- Alasadir had scorbut - a disease caused by a deficiency of vitamin C and making the infected bleed internally in case it becomes severe.