The snow crunched under their footsteps, marking their path unevenly along the road half-buried in ice. It was one of those old paths, made for carts, but now it seemed forgotten in the middle of nowhere, flanked by tall trees covered in white crystals. The silence was broken only by the wind, which blew sharply, though Damon didn't seem to notice it.

He walked with his hands behind his head, at an almost carefree pace, his gaze fixed on the horizon that opened up into an endless line of white.

"Strange," he murmured, breaking the silence. "I don't feel cold. Not even a little."

Ester, ahead of him, didn't stop walking. Her stride was steady, impeccable, as always. But she answered without hesitation:

"It's the icy Qi. It runs through your veins now. Your body is changing."

Damon raised an eyebrow curiously. "So it's permanent?"

"Yes." She cast a quick glance over her shoulder, assessing him. "You're never going back to who you were."

He whistled softly, as if he'd just heard an important revelation. "So... I'm officially half-monster now?"

"Don't exaggerate." Her voice was cold, but it held a note of warning. "This isn't something to joke about. Your body can withstand the cold, but the same energy that protects you can kill you if you lose control."

Damon smirked, as he always did when she tried to scare him. "Relax, Deathstriker. I've always had a good relationship with problems."

She didn't answer, but he could see the slight tension in her shoulders. He knew that behind her short, harsh words lay concern. And somehow, it warmed something in him that no fire could.

They continued like this for hours. The winter sun was weak, filtering through the heavy clouds. The road seemed endless, always pointing north, like an endless straight line. Damon tried to make conversation a few times—about cities, about food, even about ridiculous dreams of dominating the world with ice and wine—but Ester answered only what was necessary, focused on the path.

It was only when the afternoon began to draw in that the silence of the forest changed.

A snap.

Small, but distinct. The sound of a twig snapping.

Ester stopped dead in her tracks. Her entire body stiffened, her hand instinctively going to the sword strapped to her waist. Damon noticed it too, his eyes scanning the surroundings.

"Something wrong?" he murmured, already knowing the answer.

She didn't respond. She just raised her hand slightly, signaling him to remain silent.

The wind blew, stirring up snow in gentle swirls. For a moment, it seemed as if nothing was there. Until the shadows began to move.

From among the trees, men began to emerge. First three, then five, and soon a dozen of them, all armed with axes, unkempt swords, and makeshift bows. Torn clothes, fur cloaks, hungry, hostile eyes.

Bandits.

"Look what we have here..." the hoarse voice of one of them echoed as he advanced toward the center of the road. He was large, with a scraggly beard and yellowed teeth. "Two travelers lost in the snow. How lucky we are."

Damon let out a dramatic sigh, running a hand through his disheveled blond hair. "Oh, great." The journey was getting monotonous.

Ester shot him a sharp look, but kept her attention on the group ahead.

Another bandit laughed, spitting on the ground. "Hand over everything you have, and maybe we'll let you live."

"Maybe," another added with a disgusting grin. "The girl, however, can stay."

Damon stopped smiling. His entire body suddenly stiffened, and his eyes narrowed. The air around him seemed to alter slightly, a barely perceptible wave of cold exuding from his skin.

Ester, however, was faster.

She took a step forward, the snow crunching beneath her boots. Her eyes were two sharp blades, fixed on the bandit leader.

"Take the next step..." Her voice was low, firm, icy. "And it will be the last of your life."

The group hesitated for a second. The intensity of her gaze was unusual.

Damon, on the other hand, raised an eyebrow, looking at Ester with a half-smile. "That was quite intimidating, even for you."

One of the bandits, trying to regain his courage, raised his sword and shouted, "Charge!"

They came from all sides.

Damon felt his heart race. The chill coursing through his veins seemed to respond to danger, as if it yearned for a fight. He instinctively raised his hands, and a shiver ran down his spine. The snow on the ground around him vibrated, as if it had a life of its own.

But before he could act, Ester moved.

She advanced like a shadow, her sword sliding from its sheath in a fluid motion. The first bandit barely had time to comprehend what was happening before he felt the cold metal slice into his chest. The second fell with a sharp kick to the stomach, flying backward and crashing into a tree.

"So fast..." Damon muttered, almost in awe.

Two bandits rushed him. Damon dodged the first clumsy blow, laughing. "Easy there, I'm just a rookie!" But his fist clenched, and to his surprise, a thin layer of ice formed on his skin. When he connected with the enemy's chin, the impact was devastating, knocking the man backward.

He looked down at his hand, shocked. "Wow... that was new."

The second enemy tried to stab him, but Damon spun, grabbing the man's arm and twisting it tightly. The cold seeped from her fingers to the bandit's arm, freezing his skin in seconds. The scream echoed through the forest before he shoved him to the ground, shattering the ice with a sharp crack.

Meanwhile, Ester was a storm. Every movement was calculated, precise, deadly. The metallic sound of blades echoed along with the screams, and in less than a minute, five bodies littered the road.

The rest of the bandits began to retreat, terrified. The leader, trembling, raised his hands. "W-w-wait! W-we don't have to keep doing this!"

Ester took a step forward, her sword still stained. "It's too late."

But Damon raised his hand, smirking. "Hey, hey, calm down. Leave one alive, go on. It's always useful to have someone to spread horror stories about you."

Ester hesitated, her cold eyes assessing him. Finally, she sighed, turning her sword over and sheathing it again.

"Go." Her voice was like a sentence. "And never cross our path again."

The leader didn't need to be told twice. He ran down the road like a wounded animal, disappearing into the trees.

Silence returned, broken only by their breathing and the wind.

Damon ran his hand through his hair, still smiling. "Well... that was fun."

Ester gave him a stern look. "Idiot. You almost died."

"Almost." He blinked. "But I didn't die. By the way, did you see that?" He raised his fist, where remnants of ice still lingered. "I think I'm starting to get the hang of it."

She didn't answer right away. She just watched him seriously, as if assessing something beyond the surface.

Finally, she turned and resumed walking. "Don't get carried away. You're far from in control."

Damon hurried to catch up with her, smiling. "Sure, sure. But tell me... weren't you a little impressed?"

She didn't answer. But Damon swore he saw, for a moment, the shadow of a smile hidden at the corner of her lips.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.