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The walls on both sides of the secret passage were not adorned with the carvings typical of northern nobles but with murals.

These were drawn using an unknown red pigment, with the simplest of lines depicting scenes full of primal vitality and immense power.

The murals seemed to show frost giants wielding weapons, horns, humans, and blizzards.

According to later investigations by court scholars, these murals were the Val barbarians’ way of recording history, something Oliver, as a descendant of the Val barbarians, also understood.

Clearly, the murals in this crypt also recorded a real story in their primitive form.

"Frost giants, horns, blizzards..."

"This is..."

Duke Oliver couldn’t help but mutter to himself, as if he had some impression of this story.

He continued walking along the secret passage until he reached its end, arriving at an isolated tomb.

Inside, there were no luxurious burial items, only a massive horn.

The horn appeared to be made from a leg bone. Its slightly yellowed surface had a sheen, and it was engraved with bold and crude inscriptions, resembling an artifact from a primitive and ancient era. A chilling glow emanated from the grooves of the inscriptions.

It seemed less like a horn and more like a silent glacier.

Seeing the horn, Duke Oliver was first stunned, then overcome with ecstasy.

He finally understood that the story passed down through generations was true.

"The Eternal Frost Horn."

Duke Oliver murmured, speaking the name aloud.

The Nort family claimed their ancestor was a frost giant.

At that time, the Nort surname didn’t exist. The frost giant bore the tribal surname "Eternal Frost," and his name was Kahe Eternal Frost.

This frost giant, unable to endure the desolation of the glacial plateau, coveted great power. Taking advantage of his tribespeople's absence on a hunt, he killed the guardian of the sacred ground and stole the tribe’s holy relic capable of controlling frost and snow—the Eternal Frost Horn. Blowing the horn, an endless blizzard cut off the path behind him, allowing him to escape his pursuers and reach the warm south.

In the southern region around the Storm Highlands, the naturally towering and strong frost giant became the mightiest warrior, conquering the barbarian tribes through force. He established the Val tribe, passing down the frost giant bloodline to this day.

However, it was said that if the horn were ever blown again, frost giants from the great northern glacier would hear their ancestor's call, hunt down the descendant of the traitor, and stop at nothing to reclaim the sacred relic.

"Damn red dragon, if you won’t let me live in peace—"

"Then bear the wrath of the frost giants! I’ll drag you down with me!"

Grand Duke Oliver stared at the massive horn, a sinister smile appearing on his face.

These frost giants, also known as the Eternal Frost Tribe, came from the Wahala Glacier, a place at the northernmost edge of Anzeta called the "Frozen Forbidden Land." Every so often, they would descend south with snowstorms to plunder. However, the interval was irregular—sometimes a few years, sometimes decades, or even a century.

The last southern invasion of the frost giants, known as the "Frost Disaster," had occurred sixty years ago. That disaster caused catastrophic losses for the northern kingdoms, with several cities destroyed and tens of thousands dead or injured, turning the Storm Highlands into a forbidden zone for humans.

This meant Duke Oliver held the key to triggering a "Frost Disaster."

As long as he blew the horn, he could unleash a calamity across the entire northern region.

However, thinking of the danger to his own life after blowing the horn, Duke Oliver hesitated.

He valued his own life dearly and would never risk it unless absolutely necessary.

This time, however, Duke Oliver seemed to see a turning point in the situation.

"Perhaps I can use the Eternal Frost Horn to threaten the Ember Kingdom and preserve the Nort Duchy’s status."

"I might even gain greater benefits and elevate my position."

"Let’s take it first."

With this in mind, he attempted to touch the horn’s bone surface, ignoring the fact that his hand was still bleeding.

"Buzz—"

A deep, resonant sound rang out as the horn blew itself!

This was the sacred relic of the frost giant bloodline!

The sound was like a battle cry from a savage wilderness, mixed with the howl of a snowstorm, echoing across the entire Anzeta Wasteland.

Instantly, the inscriptions emitted a dazzling icy light, resonating with the frost giant bloodline. The immense frost power from the frost giant ancestor was transmitted into Oliver’s body, filling him with boundless strength.

Through the icy light, he seemed to see the ancient war between giants and dragons. Enormous frost giants, as large as mountains, blew the horn, summoning endless snowstorms to freeze the red dragons in the sky into ice sculptures.

To Oliver, this was both ancient history and a prophecy of the future—armed with this power, he might truly challenge the dragons.

"This... this power..."

"It’s incredible."

Duke Oliver opened his fingers, and a stream of icy air mixed with snowflakes flowed between them.

As he clenched his fist again, an ice spike materialized in front of him.

Oliver’s pupils gleamed with piercing cold light, his body covered in pulsating inscriptions. His figure swelled to over four meters tall, and his skin turned glacier-blue.

At this moment, he seemed like the master of frost disasters, capable of controlling glaciers and summoning blizzards at will.

This sudden blessing filled him with unparalleled confidence. He finally understood how his ancestor had conquered all the barbarian tribes.

"It’s hard to imagine why the ancestor kept this secret hidden."

"It’s truly marvelous."

Oliver suddenly burst into maniacal laughter.

With his laughter, howling snowstorms enveloped him and grew stronger.

"From now on—"

"I need no allies!"

"Neither the Ember Kingdom nor the Bosk Duchy, the entire north and all of Anzeta will tremble under this power! This will be my empire!"

"I am the blizzard! I am the calamity!"

Ice spikes pierced the ground, tearing a deep rift. Duke Oliver, now almost indistinguishable from a true frost giant, rode the icy storm and soared upward.

"This... this is..."

Oliver’s personal guards were dumbfounded, frozen in place, not knowing how to react.

Soon, they were turned into ice sculptures in the howling snowstorm.

"These mortal lives are as insignificant as ants to me now."

"Fleeting and trivial."

Oliver coldly gazed at the ice sculptures of his former subordinates, showing no remorse. Instead, he nodded in satisfaction.

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