[Absolute Zero]Activate!
With a soft chant, Granstar activated his skill. An invisible wave of frigid air swept out from his body, rapidly expanding in all directions.
The temperature plummeted in an instant—as though the entire battlefield had been plunged into an ice cellar—falling sharply until it neared the threshold of absolute zero.
Granstar sighed as he gazed upon the frost-covered battlefield.
"Alas... I was one step too late. The Ogre Clan has already been decimated—only six survivors remain…"
He had long planned to bring the Ogre Clan under his protection. But Granstar was not omnipotent. Though he had foreseen their impending disaster, he could not pinpoint its exact timing.
And it was simply unrealistic to stand guard near their territory at all times, waiting for danger to strike.
"No matter what happens... these six remaining seedlings must be preserved."
Determination filled Granstar's heart as he stared at the devastated battlefield. Without even approaching, he activated Absolute Zero without hesitation.
In an instant, the atmosphere shifted dramatically. The moisture in the air crystallized into frost, and delicate snowflakes began to fall.
"W-What's going on? Why is it snowing?"
The four surviving Ogre warriors—already battered and on the brink of collapse—froze in place, staring around in confusion.
"What's happening?" murmured one, a young woman with a purple ponytail.
They watched in stunned silence as hundreds of Orc soldiers across the battlefield suddenly stopped moving, frozen in mid-charge.
From their feet upward, frost spread like a creeping curse, gradually encasing their entire bodies.
They had entered a state of complete ice-sealing. The life force of the Orc soldiers visibly waned, flickering like dying embers.
The Ogre's eyes widened in horror. They couldn't comprehend what was happening. This power was beyond anything they had imagined.
The range and intensity of Granstar's Absolute Zero had greatly improved—it now could reduce the temperature to nearly fifty degrees below zero, and affect a massive area.
A dead silence settled over the battlefield. The only sound that remained was the eerie crackle of ice forming in the air.
But then—
In the middle of this frozen wasteland, Granstar's figure slowly emerged, walking steadily toward the survivors.
"Gulp…"
The red-haired young master of the Ogre Clan instinctively stepped in front of his younger sister, throat tightening in fear.
The man was still far away—so why did it feel like he was already upon them?
With just a few strides, Granstar appeared directly in front of them.
He curiously studied the burly red-haired Ogre, then noticed the small pink-haired girl hiding timidly behind him, cautiously peeking out.
Seeing their nervous expressions, Granstar tilted his head in thought.
Is my face really that scary?
So, with a warm smile, Granstar extended a hand and asked gently:
"Do you need help?"
The red-haired Ogre's heart pounded. He now realized the vast gap in power between them. The man before him radiated a bottomless magical presence—like the abyss itself.
A thought sparked in his mind.
Could I ask him... to help us avenge the Ogre Clan?
The idea took root, born from the awe-inspiring power Granstar had just displayed.
Just then, the four clan elders who had gone ahead earlier suddenly returned.
"Young Master! Princess! Are you both alright?"
They rushed forward, surrounding the pair protectively and fixing wary eyes on Granstar.
Was this the mysterious being who intervened earlier?
Wait—that wasn't quite right.
Now that they got a proper look, they realized something surprising: the one standing before them wasn't a demon, but an elf.
He had an exquisitely handsome appearance and distinct elven features—ethereal and refined, yet radiating unfathomable strength.
Facing everyone's gaze, Granstar appeared calm and composed. He nonchalantly retracted his hand and then studied the group before him with great interest.
The characters from the original story had all arrived before him. Yet, Granstar felt something different.
No—he had clearly intended to intercept them.
"Esteemed powerhouse… please, help us take revenge!"
The young master of the red-haired Ogre Clan stepped forward and dropped to one knee before Granstar without hesitation. His entire body trembled, as though he were barely containing his pain and inner turmoil.
"Young Master, you—"
"Brother…"
Despite the interruptions, Granstar remained silent. He simply watched the young master kneeling at his feet.
The young man's trembling intensified. He looked up, locking eyes with Granstar.
"Please… help us…"
His voice cracked with desperation, becoming hoarse.
He knew full well that with his current strength, avenging the destruction of his clan was impossible. But he had to try. A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity now stood before him—one he couldn't let slip away. Even if it meant casting aside his pride and begging, he was willing.
Granstar silently observed the youth before him. His expression gradually grew complicated—within it, however, was a glimmer of admiration.
The Ogre Clan was a proud and noble race in the Jura Great Forest. And this boy, their young master, surely carried a mountain of pride in his heart.
But after suffering such a calamity, he had matured. He was able to swallow that pride and bow his head to a greater power.
Granstar did not let him remain kneeling. He stepped forward and gently lifted the young man to his feet, speaking in a calm, measured tone.
"I can help you get your revenge—but I have a condition."
The young master's eyes flickered with hesitation. Around him, the other clan members lowered their gazes; their expressions dulled, as though all hope had begun to fade.
After a long silence, the young man met Granstar's eyes once more.
"I'll accept your condition… please, sir…"
But before he could finish, Granstar raised a hand, cutting him off.
"Take me to your village. I want to see it for myself."
The Ogre Clan members froze in place, stunned. For a moment, they simply couldn't process his words.
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