FROST
Chapter 55: A Proposal as Disastrous as This Volcano

Chapter 55: A Proposal as Disastrous as This Volcano

"Now that we’ve already taken you here, do you mind letting us go now?" Estes groaned, rolling his shoulders like an old man who had just finished carrying the weight of the entire world—or at least two hours’ worth of terrible decisions.

Beside him, Xavier had been eerily silent ever since Silvermist marched out of the Nymph Forest, demanding they take her to the Cauldron of Resonance. In exchange, she’d promised they’d finally be freed. Yet now, standing at the edge of a volcanic abyss, doubt crept at the edges of the promise.

Silvermist paled, beads of sweat tracing cold paths down her temples as she turned toward the others—Ezekiel, Mila, and Adeline. They stood rigid away from the heat, their faces grim, their heads shaking in quiet warning.

"It’s a trap, Sil," Adeline murmured, her voice barely audible over the distant roar of the volcano.

Silvermist swallowed hard, her gaze snapping back toward the inferno before them. She wanted to think that Estes and Xavier had only led them here in purpose of getting rid of them, but this place is exactly how the Nymph Queen had described it.

How the earth trembled beneath an ancient fury, deep rumbles echoing like the growl of a waking beast, this is exactly it. From the jagged crown of the mountain, a river of molten fire surged forth, a bleeding wound in the fabric of the land.

Once, the night sky had stretched vast and endless, a canvas of silver stars covered in mists. Now, it was consumed by a churning veil of ash, thick and suffocating, swirling in chaotic patterns as the volcano exhaled its wrath as though it is located completely in a different dimension.

The lava moved with an eerie grace—thick, molten, its surface pulsing as though something alive slumbered beneath. It slithered down the mountainside, relentless and unchallenged, swallowing the earth in its embrace. Everything in its path withered, reduced to charred ruins, skeletal remains of what once stood proud.

The very air warped from the unbearable heat, twisting reality into a shimmering, liquid mirage.

Jagged spires of obsidian jutted from the ground like the fangs of some slumbering titan, glistening cruelly in the firelight. Rivers of flame cascaded over craggy ledges, forming incandescent waterfalls that hissed and screamed upon meeting the scorched earth below.

And yet, amidst the devastation, there was a haunting beauty—wild, untamed, mesmerizing in its destruction. The mountain, a titan of fire and stone, had awakened, reminding all who stood before it that it bowed to no one.

"How am I supposed to reach that place when even Ezekiel’s flaming cushion disappears just by getting hit with the fumes?" Silvermist muttered, her voice tight.

"Of course it will," Ezekiel snapped, stepping back. "This place burns mana down."

"H-Hey! What are you doing?!" Silvermist reached for him instinctively, but the moment she moved, the searing heat from the fumes brushed against the vines binding Estes when he suddenly stood at the edge of the cliff they are on.

The effect was instant. The vines withered, their once-resilient fibers curling and crumbling into lifeless strands before snapping away completely.

Silvermist stood frozen in brief disbelief before Estes’ flexing his fingers, watching as his mana slowly, steadily, surged back into his limbs.

Silvermist swallowed once again, her throat dry as the scorched air clung to her lungs. She couldn’t even move a muscle, frozen in place as she watched Estes stride toward Xavier with unsettling ease. With a single swipe of his hand, the vine binding Xavier snapped apart, crumbling into lifeless strands at his feet.

Xavier rolled his shoulders, stretching his long arms with a slow, deliberate motion. The moment he moved, Ezekiel tensed, slipping into a defensive stance, his hands already crackling with embers.

His eyes flicked between the two, calculating, as he positioned himself in front of Mila and Adeline in case any of them suddenly attacks.

Estes blinked at him, then let out a low chuckle. "Oh, calm down," he said, lifting his hands in mock surrender. "We no longer have the intention to fight any of you."

For a moment, no one spoke. The only sound was the distant roar of the volcano, its molten fury spilling over the mountainside.

"Sil..." Ezekiel muttered, voice barely audible over the distant rumbles.

His sharp gaze flickered toward her, silently urging her to move, to retreat to their side before it was too late, because there’s no way he’d be trusting Estes’ word not after they got them captive for too long.

"I told you," Estes said smoothly. "We have no interest in fighting you anymore."

He took a leisurely step forward, his movements fluid—too fluid, too comfortable for someone who had just been freed from hours of captivity.

The oppressive heat didn’t seem to affect him in the slightest. Instead, he strode through the sweltering air with an almost arrogant ease, as though he belonged here, as though the inferno itself bowed to him.

Silvermist stiffened as he approached. She wasn’t sure what was more unnerving—the casual flick of his wrist as he brushed his disheveled crimson hair back, or the way his lips curled into something that wasn’t quite a smirk but wasn’t entirely neutral either.

It was as if he was savoring the moment, drinking in the tension like fine wine in a 7-star hotel.

And then, before she could react, he was right in front of her. Too close. Silvermist’s breath hitched slightly, her body tense, but she refused to step back.

Estes leaned in, his voice dropping just enough for only her to hear. "As a matter of fact," he murmured, his lips barely moving, "I’ll help you get to the other side."

Silvermist’s eyes narrowed. Her gut twisted, warning her that nothing about this was that simple.

"On what condition?" she asked, voice steady despite the storm building inside her. "Don’t tell me you’re after the Elixir too. As so you know, I needed that thing so I could prove myself something of... uh... worthy."

Estes grinned, wide and shameless. "No, of course not," he giggled—yes, giggled—like some mischievous sprite who had just stolen the last piece of cake at a royal banquet.

Behind him, Xavier let out the deepest, most exhausted sigh known to mankind and promptly turned away, as though the sight of his brother’s awful, gleeful expression was somehow more unbearable than the literal river of molten death flowing nearby.

"Then what is it?" Silvermist asked, crossing her arms, her patience thinner than the air in this godforsaken volcano.

Estes took a step closer.

Silvermist instinctively leaned back.

Estes leaned even closer, his grin unwavering.

Silvermist leaned back further, her balance teetering dangerously on the edge. If this continued, she’d either fall over or somehow bend herself into a right angle.

Since Estes was as tall as West, maybe taller even, the situation only made her look like a tiny person craning her neck up at a particularly smug sequoia tree.

"Would you stop looming?" she snapped, trying to scoot back.

"I can’t help it," Estes said, voice as smooth as butter. "It’s the natural advantage of being tall."

"More like the natural disadvantage of being a nuisance," she muttered, swatting the air in between them. "Now, tell me your price, so we can get this over with. It’s too hot, I’d lose my confidence facing other judgmental apprentices back in the academy."

Estes’ grin stretched wider—too wide—so wide now it looked like it might tear the edges of his lips clean off. Silvermist, finally had a chance to scrutinize him up close.

And oh, what a disappointment.

Up until now, Estes had carried an air of ethereal elegance and mystery, the kind of untouchable beauty that made people sigh and wax poetic about fate.

But now? Now, with his sweaty bangs clinging to his forehead, his ridiculous grin stretching inhumanly wide, and his crimson cheeks making him look like he was either blushing or suffering from heatstroke?

She could swear on every god listening—Frost was way more ethereal than him. And that was saying something, considering the last time she saw Frost, he looked like he hadn’t slept in centuries and he was even bleeding that goddamn time.

If Frost only had Estes’ stupidly flushed face and annoyingly rosy lips, he’d be the ethereal prince.

But no, here she was. Stuck with this elf made of nonsense.

"I-I want you to uh..." Estes began, awkwardly taking a step back. His hands fumbled with the empty sheath at his waist, as if searching for something that wasn’t there.

Ah, right. Because Sebastian, in his rare moment of genius, had yeeted all of Estes and Xavier’s weapons off a cliff earlier. A strategic decision made specifically for this moment.

"You want what?" Silvermist asked, watching his eyes dart around like he’s searching for a dime.

Estes exhaled sharply, like a man accepting his doom. He opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. Then finally—

"I want you to be my wife."

Silence.

The volcano, which had been actively erupting just seconds ago, seemed to pause in sheer disbelief. The very earth itself took a moment to process what had just been said.

Even Xavier, who had spent the entire time looking like he wanted to teleport to another dimension, now actively looked farther—as if hoping to unsee everything unfolding before him.

More silence.

"T-To be your what now?" Silvermist’s nose scrunched so hard it could have folded into another plane of existence.

Estes avoided her gaze, glancing sideways before settling on an imaginary speck of dust very far away. "I-It’s a traditional rule among the Elven clan to marry the woman who defeats them," he muttered. "And you were the one who, uh... technically knocked me out, so..."

Silvermist blinked.

"I know you don’t care about our traditions, so this is my offer." He paused dramatically, as if this moment held the weight of an ancient prophecy. "What do you say?"

Silvermist didn’t hesitate. "Fuck you."

"Ahh, of course." Estes nodded sagely, as if he had expected that exact response. He scratched the back of his head, looking like a man who just got rejected for a dance at a royal ball rather than a forced marriage proposal. "But you don’t really have a choice either, so... you ready?"

"For whaaaaa—?!?"

Before she could finish her sentence, Estes swooped her up, effortlessly lifting her into his arms like some kind of overenthusiastic prince from a cheesy romance novel.

"PUT ME DOWN, YOU ELVEN MANIAC!" she screeched, punching his chest.

Estes, completely unfazed, jumped.

And not just any normal jump.

No, this was some legendary elven bullshit because he launched them both so high and fast that for a second, they might as well have flown straight to the other side of the volcanic chasm.

Silvermist, still kicking and screaming, barely processed what was happening before they landed with an annoyingly graceful thud on the other side. Estes, the smug bastard, didn’t even stumble, his hair even swayed beautifully right onto Silvermist’s face, she swore she had tasted it.

Back on the original side, Ezekiel, Mila, and Adeline were left standing in stunned silence while Xavier, once again, sighed turning towards the forest leading back to the elven domain.

Mila clutched Ezekiel’s left arm. "E-Ezekiel! S-Sil has been abducted!"

Adeline, just as horrified, grabbed his right arm. "GO GET THEM, EZEKIEL!"

Ezekiel grimaced as the two girls violently yanked him in opposite directions, their combined efforts turning him into a human tug-of-war rope.

"Can you two not?!" he snapped, trying to keep himself from being literally torn apart. "If you want me to go after them, at least pull me in one direction!"

"Just let them be," Xavier mumbled, his voice carrying just enough weight to cut through the commotion. It was casual, almost dismissive, but with an unmistakable finality that made the others pause mid-tug-of-war with Ezekiel.

Mila and Adeline turned to him, expecting some sort of better solution than just letting Silvermist be carried off by a lunatic comrade.

Xavier, unfazed by their desperation, had already begun stepping toward the forest. But just before disappearing into the shadows, he stopped.

With the lazy grace of someone completely over this entire situation, he tilted his head slightly, glancing over his shoulder. "And don’t even think about chasing them with your little flame cushion whatever you call that."

Ezekiel bristled. "Excuse me—"

"It would disappear the moment it gets hit by the fumes," Xavier continued, his tone as dry as old parchment. "They feed off mana—which, in case you haven’t noticed, is exactly what your precious cushion is made of."

Ezekiel scowled but said nothing. Xavier had a point, and he hated that.

Xavier smirked, as if he could hear Ezekiel’s internal struggle. "Now, unless you have Ki like Estes, which you don’t, you’d just get yourself killed in there. So, by all means—jump into the abyss if you want. Just let me know so I can NOT be here to watch your crispy remains get blown away by the wind."

With that, he turned and walked into the forest, leaving the group standing there—frustrated, fuming, and very much insulted.

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