Exiled Prince: I'm the Unexpected Extra in the Novel-Chapter 123: The Hall of Frozen Sins

The War for the North[11]

The echo of Cryomara’s words about a celebration had not yet faded from the walls.

The air in the room had taken on the silence before a storm, wavering between hope and doubt.

Some lords were hugging each other while others looked at the parchments before them in disbelief.

However, the elegant smile on Cryomara’s face froze for a moment and gave way to the cold seriousness of a predator eyeing its prey.

Her blue eyes roamed over the crowd sitting around the table and stopped at specific points.

"Celebration..." she whispered.

And she tapped her fingers lightly on the table.

CRACK!

The sound was like the breaking of marble and simultaneously the declaration of a verdict.

The floor of the hall exploded suddenly under specific chairs. Thick glacial vines, shining like glass but harder than steel, shot up from the ground.

These were spells shaped by Cryomara’s will.

"WHAT IS HAPPENING?!"

The screams hung in the air.

The vines wrapped around their targets with the speed of a snake.

Lord Baelor, the Treasurer who had started sweating upon hearing the antidote news, was nailed to his chair by the vines before he could attempt to flee.

Ice thorns pierced his expensive silk clothes and pressed against his flesh but did not draw blood; they only froze.

Right next to him, Merchant Garel, who controlled Frosthelm’s trade routes and was responsible for managing the hunger crisis, began to wheeze as ice wrapped around his throat.

His hands tried to untie the rope of ice on his throat, but his fingers were freezing.

And at the other end of the table, the armored Commander Varek, thought to have a respectable past, and two lower ranking officers sitting beside him... They shared the same fate.

They were caught by their arms and legs and rendered immobile.

Five people in total. Five influential names had turned into statues of ice in seconds, transformed into terrified prisoners who could only move their eyes.

The remaining lords, generals, and barons went mad at the scene they witnessed. Chairs were overturned, tables shook.

"Treason!" shouted Lord Borin, drawing his sword from its sheath.

"She set a trap for us! She is going to kill us all!" screamed another, trying to run to the door but seeing the doors sealed with ice.

General Hareth shouted for the soldiers under his command to take defensive positions, but they did not know who to attack.

There was no army in front of them; there was the North itself, the Mystic Beast Cryomara.

"What is the meaning of this?!" roared an old baron, pointing the staff in his trembling hand at Cryomara. "Did you call us here for this! What kind of attack is this?"

In the middle of the chaos, Cryomara did not even move from her spot. She continued to look at the empty coffee glass in front of her.

Then she slowly stood up. The skirts of her dress rustled. This simple movement was enough to suppress the noise in the room.

"TAKE YOUR SEATS!"

Cryomara’s voice exploded on everyone’s face like a physical slap. The temperature of the room dropped suddenly. The breaths of the lords froze in the air, forming white clouds.

"There is no need to panic," Cryomara said, her voice now in a calmer but deadly tone. "I will not harm you... that is, the loyal ones. Sit down."

Her authority was so absolute that the men clutching their weapons paused involuntarily.

"Them..." said General Hareth, without lowering his sword but tipping it toward the ground. "Why did you seal them? Lord Baelor? Merchant Garel? And Sir Varek? These men are members of the council!"

"Why?" Cryomara looked with disgust at the men writhing among the vines of ice. "I told you... I am cleaning house. I said I would eliminate the traitors."

She turned her eyes to the crowd in the room.

"Do you suggest we go to war while traitors walk among us and knives are at our backs? Will we achieve victory with these parasites whispering our plans, the location of our armies, and the shelters where our children hide to the Obsidian Dawn?"

"Traitors?"

The anger in the room gave way to deep astonishment and the coldness of denial.

The men looked at each other. The weapons in their hands went down slowly with hesitation.

"Yes, traitors," said Cryomara. She began to walk around the table. The sound of her heels pierced the silence.

"Those who have been walking among us for years..." She placed her hand on Lord Baelor’s frozen shoulder as she passed him. Baelor’s eyes looked like they would pop out of their sockets from fear.

"Those who sat at the same table with us, raised the same glass with us... But who have long since sold their souls to that dark cult."

Cryomara’s voice rose, the hatred inside her spreading in waves.

"These are the disgusting filth who played a role in bringing our people to miserable days, in the spread of that disease, in the ’disappearance’ of supplies, and in the border outposts falling by ’mistake’!"

She stopped in front of Merchant Garel. "This man... locked the doors of the grain silos and handed the keys to the Obsidian Dawn while the people were starving. He let the supplies rot, just to cause chaos."

Everyone looked at Garel in horror. Garel wanted to deny it, but the ice vine covered his mouth.

However, not everyone was convinced.

From the right wing of the table, an armored and honorable man with a face full of scars, Baron Thorne, stepped forward.

He sheathed his sword but did not break his stance. He pointed his finger at Commander Varek, who was trapped among the ice.

"You are mistaken, My Lady!" objected Baron Thorne, his voice trembling but maintaining his belief. "I do not know about the others but... Sir Varek? That is impossible!"

The Baron approached the table.

"Varek has served this Duchy with his blood and life for years. He is our commander who has received the most wounds on the border lines! Just two years ago... He lost his wife and two small children in an Obsidian Dawn raid! That man’s hatred for the cult is greater than all of ours!"

Baron Thorne looked into Cryomara’s eyes.

"To accuse such a man, a grieving father, of treason... You cannot ask us to simply believe this and watch this execution without proof! This is madness!"

The other lords muttered in agreement. Varek’s story was known. He was a hero, a victim. Declaring him a traitor seemed like a sign that Cryomara was becoming paranoid.

Cryomara looked at Baron Thorne. There was pity in her eyes, not anger.

"The best lies are those hidden inside the truth, Baron," said Cryomara.

Just then, a cold, emotionless voice was heard from right behind Baron Thorne, from a corner of the room that should have been shadowy and empty.

"No one expected unrequited trust from you anyway, Baron."

Everyone in the room turned in that direction, startled as if struck by an electric current. Weapons were raised again in panic.

"Who is there?!"

There was no one in the room but them, the servants, and Cryomara.

The doors were sealed. The windows were closed. Even if a mouse entered the room, the experienced warriors here would know.

But now... a figure emerging from the shadows had appeared in the darkest corner of the room.

A young man around 1.80 meters tall, with a thin but fit body. He wore a stylish, pitch black suit that did not fit that environment or among those armored men at all. His black hair was combed back, and his black eyes looked like soulless wells.

Not the slightest mana, not the slightest life energy radiated from his body. It was as if he were not there. A ghost, a nothingness.

Cassian walked toward the center of the room with relaxed steps, hands clasped behind his back, not caring in the slightest about the spears, swords, and spells aimed at him.

Baron Thorne pointed his sword at this stranger. "Who are you? How did you get in here?"

Cassian did not answer. He passed by the Baron as if the Baron were smoke. His steps made no sound on the marble.

He stopped right at the head of Commander Varek, who stood motionless among the ice vines, begging Baron Thorne for help with a victimized and innocent expression in his eyes.

The moment Varek saw this young man in black, that innocent expression in his eyes cracked for a moment. It was replaced by pure, animalistic fear.

Cassian looked down at Varek.

"You lost your family, did you not, Varek?" said Cassian, his voice echoing in the hall. "How tragic. But the missing part of the story is this: The Obsidian Dawn did not kill them. You... personally sacrificed them. For more power, a higher rank, and the promise of ’Eternal Life.’"

’LIE!’ Varek tried to shout, but his voice was stifled under the ice.

"Do you want proof?" Cassian said, turning to Baron Thorne and the others.

He raised his right hand into the air.

The atmosphere of the room changed in an instant. The glacial cold gave way to a suffocating, damp, and ancient pressure coming from the deepest, darkest trenches of the ocean. The lights flickered and took on a purple hue.

Behind Cassian, out of the void, a massive, purple and black coffin appeared standing vertically, bearing strange, moving runes and seaweed patterns on it. 𝐟𝚛𝕖𝚎𝕨𝗲𝐛𝚗𝐨𝐯𝐞𝕝.𝐜𝗼𝗺

_ _ _

Hi everyone,

I’ve started working on a new novel.

Its theme and story structure are completely different from my current one.

If you’re into academy settings, a yandere twist, a strange main character, and a single female lead, you might enjoy this one.

[F-Rank Beast: The Heroine’s Useless Partner]