Chapter 170: FROSTMAW TROLLS

Stronghold 12 was a marvel of resilience, a massive dome constructed from the most durable materials known to Astrid’s engineers, spanning several kilometers in diameter. The dome’s cover was made of transparent glass, tempered to an extraordinary degree, its surface infused with mana to make it virtually unbreakable. Even a god-rank being would find it extremely difficult to shatter, the glass’s properties enhanced to absorb and dissipate immense force, rippling like water under impact before returning to its flawless state. The walls of the stronghold dome were equally formidable, towering several meters high and thick, reinforced with layers of alloy and mana weaves that had withstood countless assaults since its completion. The invaders had tried repeatedly to breach them, their attacks rebounding harmlessly, leaving only faint scorch marks that faded over time.Several air ducts dotted the structure, engineered with advanced capabilities to regulate the air purity within the stronghold, filtering out toxins and maintaining a breathable atmosphere for the thousands sheltered inside. These ducts were heavily protected, equipped with intricate mechanisms. Traps, mana barriers, and automated defenses to ensure no one could infiltrate through them. The entire stronghold was a testament to Astrid’s ingenuity, a fusion of technology and mana that turned imagination into impregnable reality. They utilized mana in ways Bluestar could only dream of, crafting wonders that left the average observer in awe, from self-repairing structures to energy fields that defied physics.

The stronghold was impregnable, with not a single loophole to exploit. Infiltrating it was near impossible, and exiting was just as challenging. Only those with proper authorization could pass through the gates without triggering alarms or defenses. But even this engineering masterpiece, praised as flawless, had its vulnerabilities when faced with a mind like Edmond’s, a genius who saw patterns where others saw perfection.

Edmond strapped his engineered space backpack to his back, the device a compact marvel of his own design. Within it was a miniature pocket space, expanded through mana manipulation to hold vast amounts without adding weight, its internal gravity canceled to make carrying effortless. The backpack contained every engineered product Edmond had created solely for dealing with his enemies. Tools honed for stealth, destruction, and survival, each one a product of sleepless nights and relentless innovation.

Edmond ensured everything he needed for his mission was securely packed: spare mana cores, repair kits, and contingencies for every scenario he could foresee. His heart raced with a mix of anticipation and resolve, the dim light of his room casting long shadows on the walls, the faint hum of the stronghold’s mana grid a constant background noise.

By nightfall, Edmond moved discreetly through the corridors, his steps silent on the reinforced floors, bypassing the surveillance team with practical ease—small disruptions in the mana flow he’d engineered himself, creating blind spots that lasted just long enough. He found himself close to the wall of the stronghold, the massive barrier looming like an unyielding sentinel, its surface smooth and cold to the touch.


The wall wasn’t merely physical; it was backed by engineering fused with mana, generating an anti-mana field that nullified space manipulation or powerful abilities from high-rank individuals. Quantum effects, teleportation, or raw force were rendered useless against it, the field humming faintly, a low vibration that set teeth on edge.

Edmond, however, had spent a week in the past reverse-engineering its principles, breaking down the anti-mana field’s workings through meticulous calculations and experiments in secret. With the knowledge at his grasp, he easily bypassed it using quantum tunneling—a breakthrough he’d achieved alone, a secret known to no one, not even his father. Janryc was just as intelligent and could piece together the puzzle if he suspected, a risk Edmond couldn’t afford.

Edmond activated the device, a surge of energy from his self-made radioactive power source—a small, portable unit that outperformed a nuclear plant, clean and efficient, another testament to his genius. He phased through the wall, the process consuming time and energy, his body tingling with the strange sensation of quantum displacement, atoms realigning as he emerged on the other side.

Edmond found himself at the outer edge of the wall, the cool night air of Astrid hitting him like a slap, the abandoned lands stretching dark and desolate before him. He had spent considerable time and energy passing through the massive barrier, but the freedom was worth it.

Finding a hidden spot amid overgrown ruins, Edmond equipped himself with his gears. He slipped on boots powered by a mana core of his design, the hum of energy allowing silent flight, lifting him effortlessly. He donned his protective wear—a highly resilient carbon fiber suit, its defensive properties enhanced with mana weaves that absorbed impacts and dispersed energy. In his hands, twin energy-powered swords hummed to life, their blades glowing with contained plasma, and a mana blaster strapped to his side, its barrel sleek and deadly. Ensuring he was fully geared, he took to the skies, targeting solo invaders, his night-vision goggles with thermal sensors piercing the darkness.

Edmond moved through the abandoned lands of Astrid, his eyes peeled for any sign of danger or prey, the wind whispering through ruined structures, the ground scarred from past battles. The invaders were not humans; they were a different race, one Astrid faced for the first time—the Frostmaw Trolls.

The Frostmaw Trolls were giants of ice and hunger, their hulking frames towering higher than the tallest trees, their steps shaking the earth like distant thunder. Their skin was not flesh as Astrid’s natives knew it, but slabs of glacial stone, cracked and veined with a faint blue glow, as though frozen rivers of light pulsed beneath, illuminating their massive forms in the night. Their eyes were pale and lidless, unblinking orbs of cold moonlight that saw no warmth in the world, only prey and conquest.

When they opened their mouths, jagged teeth like icicles jutted in uneven rows, and each breath spilled a mist of frost that clung to the air, freezing moisture into brittle crystals. Where hair should have grown, shards of frozen bone and jagged ice jutted upward, forming crude crowns that marked them as monsters born of ancient frost rather than mere beasts, their silhouettes menacing against the starry sky.