Frostbound [LitRPG Apocalypse]

Edward Halstead

St. Louis

The map hung on the wall with all kinds of different notes or pins stuck upon its surface, but nearly every one was ignored by his eyes in favor of one. While most of the informational additions to the map were made by hand, and not from the map itself, the one blip he was looking at was a mark not made by his hand.

The treasure hanging in one of the most secure places in his Society's Headquarters was the single most expensive thing he had gotten from the System store. He was lucky that his and his people's more indirect aid counted for as much as it did; otherwise, he wouldn't have been able to afford it.

Map of the East

Shows and highlights all known or unhidden Civilization Pylons in the Eastern region of North America, along with their associated Owner's Faction. Can be enhanced with Scrying or Divining Formations to pierce certain veils and locate otherwise hidden Civilization Pylons.

The treasure's description didn't sound like much, but it was the most valuable thing Edward owned. Now, he didn't have to have people out roaming the world trying to pin down and locate the various pylons that had cropped up since the Change.

Edward still did, as the map didn't show hidden ones, but that was handled by the more specialized and select few, rather than a large portion of the Society.

The note that had caused it all hung in his vision, and Ed turned toward it.

~~

It's starting. This is the spark, I'm sure of it. I know that Frostheim and Lakeshore are both far to the North, and there isn't much around them, but I'm certain that after this, something will change.

A thousand people filled with righteous fury march have just marched on Lakeshore with the Baron leading the charge.

He's either going to freeze Lakeshore off the face of the map, or he's going to die trying.

-Bennett

~~

Bennett was one of the more trustworthy, as the distance he had sent the man had demanded it, but Ed had still doubted his claims. Red on Black became Blue on white. Now, looking at the blip on the shores of the Lake depicting Lakeshore change colors, he put more weight behind it. Much more weight, considering what else had happened in the past few days.

The second letter had filled in the how, where his map could not. It only showed that the Pylon had changed hands and was now a City of Frostheim, not details of the battle or anything else.

~~

The siege is finished. It took less than an hour since the first shot, and the city is decimated. I don't know how, and I don't know what, but I know something happened in the middle of the city, away from my eyes.

I couldn't track it with [Scry] or [Phantom Eye], as any reconnaissance skill was oddly barred from the area. My brain says it's because of the power involved, as there were quite the magical reverberations, but my gut says something different. I'm not sure what, but it doesn't feel like it was a coincidence.

Now that the battle is over, I have since been able to take a look, and the only thing there is dozens of half-burned and half-frozen buildings. A thick coating of snow nearly 4 feet tall hinders any who tries to go in the area, and there's something different about it.

It doesn't melt in the sun, it resists fire, and it has debilitating effects on any but the most resistant. Worst of all is the fear it imposes, even to me. My body shakes and breaks out in goosebumps just thinking about traversing through it.

More details to come soon, but know that the Leader, Victor, is dead. His four captains, Quinten, Desmond, Olivia, and Wren, are also dead. His army is all but obliterated, with only a few hundred survivors.

There's something fishy here, and I will relay it when I find out. Too many people are being interrogated too often for this to be something benign.

-Bennett

~~

Edward didn't quite know what to make of the second message. It gave him such much-needed information, but it hinted at something far more. Something that his Skills and gut told him ran much deeper.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

Bennett was probably right. This was the spark. Ed sighed. Of the most pressing information or messages that had come in lately, there was only one that didn't come from the North that demanded his attention.

One that came from a member he placed the utmost trust and confidence in, and could very well be the lynchpin to what may come next. Cassandra. His beautiful and lovely wife, placed in the city Ed felt would be the center of nearly everything.

New Norfolk.

~~

My dear Eddie,

The Admiral has finally made his move. He has sent riders to all known Factions and has called for an assembly on the Fifth anniversary. I wasn't able to figure out the reason other than what he has stated publicly, which was to call all known Nobles to convene to discuss future preparations.

I wasn't able to get much other than that, sadly, but I will keep trying.

With Love,
Cass

~~

This wasn't unexpected of the man, but that didn't make it any less important. Depending on who showed up or how things went, events could change wildly. Something Ed would need to be on top of if he wanted to get history right.

The Admiral

New Norfolk

"This won't stop what's coming." Robert, his friend and confidant, said.

Fitzwallace knew that, but this wasn't about stopping what was coming. It was about containing it or managing it in such a way that it wasn't as devastating and chaotic as it could be. Curbing the potential devastation so it would be tamer than it would otherwise be.

If he managed to impart even the tiniest amount of order in the things to come, it would be worth it.

"I know," Fitzwallace sighed, watching out of his office window as the cars containing his orders raced down the avenue towards their destination. From there, his Faction's best Logistics Officers and Messengers would take them all across the Eastern US and Canada. The cars would be left at the outreaches of his Faction, as the roads leading to where they needed to go ended.

"It'll be four years, Robert. In just a scant few months, it'll be four years, and we are no better off now than we were then." It was the sad truth. The Admiral had tried to get things moving, tried to get people facing the same way and walking in the same direction, but it had been slow. Glacially slow.

Communication was abysmal. Even with the tweaks and improvements they had made to the Formation, it was still much too slow. The Stones that came out of the West were good, but there was a range limit that hampered their usefulness.

No. If he wanted to get any meaningful change accomplished, people had to be in the same room for that. So he called a conference.

"How many do you think will show?" Robert wondered; he gazed out the same window as the Admiral did. As much as Fitzwallace tried to get him to take up a position and put on his old mantle once again, he had staunchly refused.

No, he stuck to his advisory role with the grip of a dying man not wanting to be dragged into hell. Or back into the hell pit of Politics and Military Leadership, which was essentially the same thing.

Most of it was cleaned up by the Change, but as all good things, that came to an end when new uglies reared their heads.

"I'm not sure," Fitzwallace admitted. "Out of all of them... more than half, I hope. Any less and the meeting won't be as effective."

As the car shrank away into the distance and out of the window's field of view, Robert turned away. "I do not envy them. It will take months for some to reach their destination. Months of sleeping in the wild. Months of eating hard rations or hunting for food. Even in my best days, that would be a tall task. Especially the one going to the swamps or the Far North."

"They're Class and Profession help. They can travel through the night, move quickly toward the destination, and survive on less. Their bags are bigger than they look, too. They have more comforts with them than you might assume." Fitzwallace defended.

"Still, I wouldn't want to do it." He stalked back over to his usual place on the couch the Admiral kept in his office and laid down without a care for decorum, "Making them show their title will get backlash."

"I don't care. I'm tired of stepping around potential pushback. I did it too long Before, and I've done it enough since. At the Gathering, I couldn't enforce anything since it wasn't my territory, but here, in my own city, I very much can. If they made the trip all the way here, forcing them to show the title is nothing." His teeth clenched just thinking about the potential pushback.

"Good." Robert stated, "I was wondering when you would finally get fed up."

The Admiral sank into his office chair and sighed. He'd been doing that a lot lately. "Everything will be so much easier when we get communication lines back up. Hell, if Dr. Parks can pull off a miracle with the Portals, that would change everything."

"That it would," his friend said, "Are you still planning on upgrading the Pylon beforehand? I know it will put you in a powerful position if you are the sole Viscount, but the Baron Challenge Wave was quite something."

"It's better now than later." He said, "We know from what happened in Nashville that the upgrade Challenges are getting harder. They took great losses thinking that the Baron upgrade would be the same as those before it."

The waves getting harder was well known now. The mana density had made them so, but it had also spaced them out. The harder they were, and the higher level the pylon was, the more time in between Waves there was.

"We are ready," he added, "We have over two hundred D-ranks, powerful enchantments, not to mention artillery in place. The walls have been reinforced to the strongest we could make them. This city is a fortress, and not even a mid-level D-rank Boss monster will break what we've built. I won't let it."

"And how certain are you that it won't be High D-rank? Or peak D-rank?" Robert questioned, raising an eyebrow from his position on the couch.

"All the measurements we've taken and information from the green aliens point to it being a mid-level D-rank, not above that. The longer we wait, and the more the mana density rises, along with the grade of the Planet, the less certain their estimations become." He had their reports on his desk, not that he was currently looking at them.

Every test run or simulation by those with the requisite skills said they were ready. Hell, the Admiral's own skills said they were ready. They had to estimate how strong such a beast would be, as no one had fought anything above level 130.

Measurements and estimations put the potential Boss monster around level 150-160, but that didn't describe all that they were up against. Boss monsters were stronger, more powerful, and all around more than their level would indicate.

They were like the Nobles of monsters.

"Also," The Admiral smiled, "You forget that I'm now D-rank too, and not a weak one."

"Ah, yes," Robert smiled, "How could I forget our very first Legendary?"