Preparing for the Everfrost Expedition

The echoes of my battle with Zarathorak still lingered in the air, the ground bearing the scars of our final clash. My muscles ached, my breath was still ragged, but the satisfaction of victory outweighed any exhaustion I felt.

I had done it. I had defeated Zarathorak at his strongest.

Fafnir crossed his arms, watching as the last traces of my Unison faded. "Not bad, but you're far from your peak. We still have a long way to go."

I let out a small chuckle. "Yeah, yeah. But for now, we've got something more important to handle."

I turned to Ingi, who had remained quiet, his sharp gaze fixed on the sky. The dragon king's golden eyes flickered as if lost in thought.

I already knew what was on his mind

Frostfang.

The thought of facing her, of venturing into the Everfrost, sent a shiver down my spine—not just from the icy reputation of the region, but from the sheer weight of what lay ahead.