FROST
Chapter 39: Gravity, Arrows, and Unholy Cheekbones

Chapter 39: Gravity, Arrows, and Unholy Cheekbones

"Holy fu—"

Sebastian’s scream echoed through the forest as his foot caught on a tree root, launching him forward like a ragdoll.

For one glorious second, he truly believed he was about to eat dirt — face first, dignity last — but in a desperate act of self-preservation, his hand shot out and grabbed the closest thing within reach.

Unfortunately, that thing was Ezekiel’s collar.

"What the—Sebastian, you absolute motherf—!"

Both of them went tumbling down the mossy slope like a pair of mismatched meatballs, limbs flailing, curses flying, and dignity officially declared dead on arrival.

They bounced off rocks, got smacked by branches, and somewhere in the middle of the chaos, Sebastian swore something licked his ear. He really hoped it was just a passing leaf.

Above them, Silvermist, West, Adeline, and Mila barely registered their panicked screams before the two idiots vanished into the darkness — swallowed whole by the forest like it was tired of their bullshit.

"Did they—did they just fall off a cliff?" West squinted through the trees, arrows still whizzing past his head.

"They’ll be fine," Silvermist deadpanned, narrowly dodging an arrow that could’ve skewered her head. "Gravity hasn’t killed them yet."

Mila’s water dome flickered in and out like a bad Wi-Fi signal, sending random splashes of water everywhere and making the ground more slippery than a soap convention.

Adeline glanced at the disappearing water barrier, then back at the cliff. "Should we—?"

"No," Silvermist cut in flatly.

West ducked another arrow. "You’re right. They deserve this."

Somewhere down below, a loud crash echoed, followed by Sebastian’s muffled voice:

"WHO THE HELL PUT A CACTUS HERE?!"

Ezekiel’s groaning reply followed immediately after.

"That’s not a cactus... that’s me, you idiot!"

Silvermist adjusted her bow and kept running. "They’ll catch up."

The deeper they trudged into the forest, the better their eyes adjusted to the choking darkness — not that it made dodging death any easier.

Arrows still zipped through the air like they had a personal vendetta against their entire bloodline, and the ground remained a death trap, thanks to Mila’s flickering water dome that had the consistency of wet toilet paper.

West, who had been silently regretting every second of his miserable existence, finally decided he would rather die trying than babysit this circus any longer.

With his mana draining as fast as his patience, he flicked his fingers — a sharp gust of wind whistled through the shadows, deflecting a handful of arrows just inches away from Silvermist’s head.

"Oh, finally he remembers he has powers."

West pretended not to hear that. Mostly because he was too busy contemplating whether jail time was worth committing group homicide.

He barely had any mana left after his extravagant transformation into Frost a few days ago — a form he still believed deserved a standing ovation, fireworks, and possibly a Netflix adaptation. Instead, all he got was Silvermist’s half-assed "Cool." and Mila asking if he could "do it again but hotter."

He clenched his jaw and flicked his fingers again, sending another gust that knocked more arrows off course.

"I swear to every god listening—if one more person breathes in my direction without saying thank you, I’m throwing myself off this cliff."

"Do a backflip," Adeline deadpanned, narrowly avoiding another arrow.

West’s eye twitched. His mana flickered dangerously — much like his will to live.

Another sharp gust. Another batch of arrows deflected.

"You’re welcome," he gritted out through clenched teeth.

"Sil?! Are you sure we’re going the right way?!" Mila screamed, nearly slipping again as the ground turned into a muddy death slide beneath her flickering barrier.

The path ahead grew darker with every step, barely a glint from the flashing arrows to guide them. They were practically running blind — which, given their collective survival skills, was a death sentence waiting to happen.

"Absolutely not!" Adeline snapped without missing a beat. She skidded to a halt, flinging out both hands to summon a sharp gust of wind that deflected the next wave of arrows — just in time before one could redecorate West’s already ruined hair.

Her breath came out in short gasps. "I can’t keep doing this — my mana’s running out."

"Then maybe—" West flicked his wrist, sending another sharp current that knocked a few more arrows off course. "—move your asses faster!"

He was barely holding on himself, and it showed. The wind he conjured was weaker now, uneven — and one arrow finally slipped through his defenses, slicing through the edge of his once perfectly ironed uniform.

West froze mid-step. His tired brain needed a full three seconds to process what just happened.

"...did that arrow just—"

A single button popped loose from his sleeve, falling dramatically to the muddy ground.

"Oh, gods, here we go—" Adeline groaned.

West’s eye twitched. His hands slowly clenched into fists, as if physically restraining himself from committing mass murder.

"That was Armani."

"West, we don’t have time for—"

"THAT WAS CUSTOM-MADE ARMANI I PERSONALLY ASKED THE LUNAR KING TO BUY ME IN THE HUMAN REALM."

"He’s going to cry, isn’t he?" Mila whispered, already out of breath.

"I’m not going to cry," West hissed through gritted teeth, eyes twitching dangerously. "I’m going to massacre an entire bloodline."

Silvermist, completely unfazed, ducked under another arrow and kept running. "Well, you better massacre them faster. We’re still being shot at, in case you haven’t noticed."

West flicked his hand again with pure spite. This time, the wind lashed out harder — sharper — sending a whole volley of arrows clattering to the ground. His mana flickered like a dying lightbulb, but his wrath alone kept him going.

He exhaled through his nose like an angry bull.

"Keep it down, West. You’re hurting your pride as a quiet and mysterious person," Ezekiel’s smug voice echoed from below, carried by the wind like the universe’s own little roast session.

Sebastian snorted, barely dodging a branch that nearly smacked him in the face. The two of them were still struggling to keep up from the lower ground, slipping on mud and nearly breaking their necks every five seconds — but at least the thick trees above were shielding them from the rain of arrows. Honestly? They kind of liked it down there.

Sebastian wiped the sweat off his forehead. "Let them handle the arrows. This might actually be the smartest decision we’ve ever made."

"Agreed." Ezekiel nodded, ducking under a branch with the grace of someone who had absolutely given up on life.

Meanwhile, above them, Adeline was already considering that The Guardians had abandoned them to die — most likely in the most embarrassing way possible. The orb that was supposed to guide them was still glowing faintly ahead, but at this point, it might as well have been leading them straight to hell.

Her growing suspicion was confirmed the moment a massive boulder — the size of everyone’s combined unresolved trauma — came crashing down from the cliff above, slamming right into the middle of their path with an earth-shaking BOOM.

Everyone flinched — even Sebastian and Ezekiel from below.

"Oh, fantastic." West threw his hands up dramatically. "First arrows, now nature itself is trying to kill us. What’s next? Fire-breathing squirrels?"

"Shut up, West."

"No, please, let’s all pretend the boulder will politely move out of the way if we ignore it long enough—"

"West!"

Sebastian and Ezekiel’s heads popped up from the cliff below, both of them soaked, muddy, and looking like two men who just survived a very dumb natural disaster — which, to be fair, they had.

"Are you guys alive—oh shit, never mind." Sebastian’s face immediately scrunched up. "West is still talking.

West’s fingers twitched. "I’m two arrows away from air-bending you off this cliff, Sebastian."

"I’d like to see you try, handsome."

Mila groaned, wiping water from her face. "Okay, can we all agree not to murder each other until we survive this forest? Please?"

No one answered — probably because deep down, everyone was mentally making a hit list, and West was currently on top of all of them.

Ezekiel and Sebastian exchanged glances before they started climbing the slippery cliff like two wet raccoons, more worried that their friends had been crushed by the boulder — or worse, left unsupervised long enough to kill each other.

The moment they hauled their sorry, mud-soaked bodies back up the cliff, wheezing like two asthmatic grandpas, an evil cackle sliced through the suffocating silence — low, guttural, and echoing across the damned forest.

Every hair on their necks stood on end.

"Oh, that’s never a good sign," Ezekiel froze mid-step, clutching Sebastian’s shoulder like a child about to cry in a horror movie. "Is that the sound of my sleep paralysis demon finally showing up in HD?"

The laugh echoed again — sharp, mocking, and absolutely thrilled by their collective misery. It crawled through the thick mist clinging to the forest floor, bouncing between the trees like whatever was lurking out there had been watching them this whole time, waiting for the perfect moment to scare the shit out of them.

Even West, who had been two seconds away from throwing a full-blown Armani funeral tantrum, fell dead silent.

"Nope." Mila whispered, eyes wide. "Absolutely not."

Then, without warning—

The mist shifted.

It coiled and thinned, slowly peeling away from the ground like unseen hands were pulling it back — revealing the forest floor, damp and glistening under the faint silver glow of moonlight.

The sky parted open like God Himself was about to step down and finally deliver His long-overdue final judgment on this group of walking disasters—

But no.

God was clearly minding His own business tonight.

Instead, two figures descended with the moonlight, gliding down like they were about to drop the hottest album of the century — or wipe out the entire forest just for the aesthetic.

They looked like twin elves straight out of a high-budget fantasy film — tall, ethereal, and violently handsome to the point it felt like a personal attack.

Long crimson hair cascaded down their backs, shimmering under the moonlight like they’d been conditioned with holy coconut oil. Their chiseled faces could resurrect entire civilizations, and their silver bows glowed faintly as if blessed by the gods themselves.

Everyone just stood there.

Mila’s jaw dropped. West forgot how to breathe.

Azumi, poor girl—almost collapsed on the spot like her entire bloodline had been wiped out by sheer attractiveness alone. If Frost wasn’t already the standard of male beauty in her delulu mind, she would’ve willingly sold her soul for one of these elves to step on her neck.

Even West, whose standards were higher than his mana regeneration rate, blinked in genuine disbelief.

Sebastian, wiping mud off his face like a rejected sewer goblin, squinted up at them — then slowly turned to Ezekiel.

"Okay, but... who’s more handsome? West or these ethereal creatures?"

"Shut up, Sebastian!" West groaned and then placed a hand on his chest. "And of course, it’s me."

The elves hovered in perfect silence, not a strand of crimson hair out of place, their piercing moonlit eyes scanning the group with the kind of judgment that could send entire empires into economic depression.

Finally, they spoke — "Mortals... who dares enter the sacred forest of Nyxeria?"

Their voices were deep, smooth—like honey mixed with heartbreak.

Silvermist’s knees wobbled. Mila visibly clutched her chest beside the nonchalant little Adeline. Even Sebastian’s soul briefly left his body. Ezekiel literally cracked his neck before straightening his soaked collar, suddenly looking like he was about to apply for a marriage visa.

West, however, took one long look at their flowing hair, perfect jawlines, and flawless bone structure— "Those definitely because of Botox," he mumbled.

The elf on the right stepped forward — the one with more vibrant crimson hair that caught the moonlight like liquid fire. His long, blood-red braid swayed behind him, brushing against the heavy black cloak draped over his broad shoulders.

His armor was a mix of sleek, dark leather and enchanted silver plating, carved with ancient runes that seemed to pulse faintly with magic. A jagged sword hung lazily from his hip and a crossbow on one hand— the kind of weapons that had definitely ended bloodlines for sport.

His ruby eyes narrowed in pure, unfiltered disdain as if he’d already judged the entire group and found them not even worth the breath it took to insult them.

"These..." His voice dripped with condescension. "...are nothing but a bunch of powerless kids."

His gaze flicked lazily across each one of them, lingering just long enough to ruin self-esteems for generations. Then he laughed — low, cruel, and hotter than it had any right to be.

"We’d get nothing from them... even if we ate up their useless little souls."

Sebastian whispered under his breath.

"Okay, but like... eat me respectfully."

Ezekiel elbowed him in the ribs. "Focus."

The other elf — the one with shorter, carmine hair that barely grazed his nape — flicked his perfectly trimmed locks back with one hand, revealing a single dangling earring carved from obsidian.

His whole vibe screamed dangerously hot middle sibling energy — the kind of guy who would stab you, then kiss your corpse on the forehead for being a good toy.

His medieval-looking armor was more form-fitting — black and obsidian-plated, with intricate designs that shimmered like trapped moonlight. A curved dagger rested on his thigh, and his long silver bow was still drawn, the arrow glowing faintly between his fingers as if he’d fire it out of boredom just to see who’d scream the loudest.

"That’s fine, brother." His voice was smoother, lower — the kind of voice that would make even angels consider switching sides.

He flicked the arrow lazily between his fingers before aiming it directly at West — who suddenly forgot how to breathe.

"After all... Father’s command is only to bring their heads after playing with them." His cold smile sharpened. "And this guy."