Jinn BLADE
Chapter 55 | Rest

Chapter 55: Chapter 55 | Rest

*Crack! *Rustle...

The crackle of the fire filled the area, steady and calm, as orange embers floated softly into the night sky. The rustling of leaves echoed all around, mixed with the occasional creak of old branches swaying in the wind.

A gentle whistle passed through the canopy above, brushing against the ancient trees that loomed atop—like sleeping giants.

The camp had been set up fully, tents arranged in a loose circle—one for each member of the group. They were worn, but held together well enough.

The campfire in the center lit up the surrounding, pushing back the shadows that surrounded them.

Its warm light flickered across their faces, bringing a sense of peace—even if it was just for a short while.

In the distance, the deep howls of unseen beasts echoed through the dark forest. Sometimes low, sometimes sharp, as if something was calling—or hunting. But the ice walls Biyo had raised still stood firm, shimmering faintly under the moonlight.

The crackles of cold energy that pulsed across the surface reminded the group that they were safe, at least for now.

Up above, Garan rested high in the branches of a thick tree, his large frame leaning back casually against the trunk.

*RIP!

He tore into a ration bar with his teeth, chewing slowly as he gazed out into the distance. His tail swayed lazily below him, hanging over the branch.

The glow of the fire didn’t reach him, but his eyes shined faintly in the dark, always alert, even when at rest.

Down below, Jinn sat beside the fire with the others.

His sword, Fangeryth, lay beside him—still within reach. He sat with his legs stretched out and hands resting on his knees as he listened to the quiet conversations around him.

Verkaryon was, as usual, the most talkative—smiling as he poked at the fire with a stick.

"Reminds me of home, oddly enough," he said with a chuckle. "Though back home, we didn’t have ice walls or monsters trying to eat us."

Jinn peered from the side, scoffing from within—as Verkaryon’s words were clearly a lie.

Kain meanwhile sat nearby, arms around his knees, eyes watching the flames.

He didn’t say much, but his body seemed more relaxed than before.

Hector sat next to him, carefully adjusting the cloth that covered the strange glowing object at his side, making sure the light didn’t spill out too much.

Ophelia, Orin, and Vox were huddled close as well, quietly sharing dried food and whispering now and then.

The weariness in their eyes showed, but they hadn’t complained.

Not once.

A short distance away, Biyo knelt on the cold ground, his eyes shut.

He breathed in deeply, then out, over and over, lost in quiet meditation.

His body gave off a light mist as cold eidra flowed through him, pulsing softly beneath his skin. The frost around his boots had started to spread slightly, forming thin layers of ice on the grass beneath him.

The night grew darker still, but the cold didn’t bite as harshly near the fire. The ice walls surrounding the camp glowed faintly in the moonlight, their jagged edges standing firm like a protective ring.

The giant trees beyond them seemed like quiet giants, watching over the group in silence.

After some time, they were finally able to get some rest.

One by one, the group drifted off to sleep inside their tents, each resting in their own space. Their breathing softened, their tired bodies at ease for the first time in what felt like forever.

Jinn, however—remained awake.

He lay on his back, staring at the ceiling of his tent.

In his hands, he held his sword—Fangeryth.

He slowly unsheathed it,

*SHAK!

the faint sound of metal brushing against the scabbard whispering through the quiet night.

The blade gleamed under the faint light from the campfire outside, glowing with a subtle crimson hue.

Runes of gold and red twisted around the hilt and the fuller of the blade, pulsing softly with power.

It was a beautiful weapon—elegant and deadly... just like Venedix herself.

Jinn stared at it for a long while, letting his thoughts drift.

This was the first real rest they had gotten in a long time.

Before this, they had been trapped in cells—cold, cramped and forced to sleep on stone floors beside hundreds of other slaves.

No comfort,

no peace,

only chains and silence.

Now they had a camp. A wall to protect them. A fire to warm them. And still, Jinn couldn’t fully relax.

His eyes shifted back to the blade.

He thought of his friends—each of them fighting to survive. He thought of the path ahead, and the danger that surely waited for them. And he thought of the power inside him.

The eidra.

It pulsed like a storm in his veins.

Wild.

Alive.

It surged through him like a crimson serpent, burning and electric.

That very power had saved his life more than once. It gave him the strength to keep moving. To keep fighting.

Without it, he knew, he would already be dead.

Jinn sighed, gripping Fangeryth tighter for a moment.

Then he whispered to himself.

"I need to get stronger. Strong enough to protect everyone... no matter what comes."

He held those words in his chest for a moment, then slowly sheathed his blade with care.

He placed it beside him, where it would always be close.

"But first... I need to rest."

His eyes began to close. The heaviness of the day finally catching up to him. His breathing slowed as sleep finally took him.

The group, all together, finally slept peacefully.

But the peace didn’t last.

Something stirred in the dark—and it woke them.

Loud thumps shook the ground.

*THUD! *THUD! *THUD!

Heavy.

Repetitive.

Like the stomping of something huge.

The tremors jolted the group awake.

One by one, tents unzipped as members stepped out in confusion and alertness.

Jinn’s eyes snapped open. He grabbed Fangeryth without hesitation, already pulling the sword free from its sheath as he exited his tent.

Then his eyes widened.

Towering shadows loomed just beyond the ice walls.

Several giants—at least four—stood tall with massive hands pressed against the shimmering crystal wall Biyo had created.

Their pale, bark-like skin blended with the forest, but their size was impossible to miss. They grunted and pressed, testing the wall like a predator to its cage.

"Shit," Jinn muttered under his breath, his gaze shifting to Biyo with concern.

But Biyo was calm.

He crouched by the fire in the center of the camp, his expression unreadable as he fed another thick piece of wood into the flames.

*crack!

The crackling of the fire grew louder, dancing off the area.

"Don’t worry, Jinn-boy," Biyo said without looking up.

*BANG! *BANG! *BANG!

Behind him, the sound of fists pounding against ice echoed like drums in the dark.

"No woodland beast can break ice born from Skjöldheim."

The wall shuddered again. One of the giants let out a low, guttural snarl. Another dragged its clawed hand along the wall, producing a sharp, scratching wail.

Biyo’s eyes narrowed.

"Still... it would be foolish to stay," he added. "We move at first light."

Jinn exhaled and gave a small nod. "Mhm."

There wasn’t much else to say.

He turned and walked back toward his tent, casting one last glance at the giants before stepping inside.

The others wore the same uneasy expressions—faces lit dimly by the fire, eyes fixed on the looming silhouettes beyond the wall. T

he pounding of giant fists still echoed softly in the distance, a grim reminder that they weren’t safe.

Not truly.

But no one questioned Biyo.

And so, without a word, each member of the group quietly returned to their tents, placing their trust in the man from Skjöldheim and the ice he claimed was unbreakable.

Above them, perched on the thick branch of a tree just beyond the firelight, Garan snarled.

"Bah!" he scoffed, sharp teeth bared in irritation. "I could’ve made minced meat out of those giants myself."

His claws flexed slightly, as if itching for a fight that wouldn’t come.

Still, after a long pause, he let out a low grunt and leaned his back against the rough bark of the tree.

"...That large meat... seens to know what he’s doing," he muttered, closing one eye and letting the other lazily watch the edge of the wall.

"Guess I’ll let him this one."

===

The night sky was still black overhead. The firelight barely pierced the dense shadows beyond their camp.

Jinn sat down and placed his sword beside him again. He wasn’t tired anymore. Not really.

But he could still focus.

He closed his eyes, letting his body relax as best as it could under the weight of the situation. He remembered something Merlyn once told him—"You must listen to your eidra as much as you command it. The better you understand its rhythm, the more it will obey."

So Jinn breathed in... and out.

Slow and Steady.

At first, the familiar sensation of surging power began to build.

The electric, storm-like pulse of his eidra was always there.

Always restless.

Always alive.

But then...

it changed.

The storm inside him settled, just slightly—mellowing into something else.

A warm flow. Familiar. Gentle.

It filled his limbs not like lightning—but like fire in a hearth.

Steady, glowing, calm.

A warmth that did not burn, but comforted. As if his body remembered a different kind of strength.

Jinn continued to breathe, letting the warmth spread within him, feeling every pulse, every inch, every corner it reached.

Outside, the giants still lingered. Their movements caused the walls to hum.

But Jinn, inside his tent, stayed focused.