The Frozen Legacy (English Version)

chap.1: Heiress's Blade.

The remaining snow from the storm was thinning to the north of Iceworld.

Gracian Whittaker moved slowly through the shadows of the frozen trees, her golden cloak thrown back as it became covered in ice shards. The armor was heavy and creaked with her movements, but she didn’t feel its full weight—years of training and combat had shaped her body, preparing her for her future role as the Tenth Empress. In her right hand, she gripped the Pure Ice sword, gleaming alongside the sun.

Ahead, a monster roared.
A Pure-White Wolf—creatures nearly 1.80 meters long, their fur mingled with crystalline snowflakes. The canine’s yellow eyes were fixed on her, as if it already knew the taste of flesh. This same beast had attacked a carriage three nights earlier. It was personal.

“You almost ruined my week, you bastard,” she muttered, her voice steady even as her heart raced.

The wolf struck first—a black blur leaping from the snow, sharp claws ready to shatter armor and human skin. Gracian twisted her body at the last second, her sword slicing through the air with a whistle. The monster’s paw flew off, the creature whimpering in pain as it prepared to counterattack.
The heiress did not retreat.

The second blow came from below, driving her sword into the wolf’s chest. Crystals grew in the wound; Gracian felt the impact shudder through her arms. The beast staggered, but it did not die. Instead, it opened its mouth full of ice fangs and lunged with everything it had.
Now, the princess faltered.
One of the fangs struck her left shoulder, tearing the cloak and denting the golden plate of her armor. The pain of feeling her bones being crushed was excruciating, but she used it as momentum to spin and drive her sword straight into the monster’s head.

The wolf froze—literally. The Pure Ice spread from the wound like blue veins, covering its entire body in moments. One final agonized growl before the creature collapsed and turned into a shattered statue.
Gracian leaned on her sword, breathing deeply. Pain and blood covered her left arm, staining the snow red. It was far from a perfect victory. Far from it.

But it was a victory.

Using the remnants of her cloak, she wiped the blade and fashioned a makeshift bandage to keep the wounds from worsening. After that, she gazed at the horizon, the radiant sun illuminating the Frozen World.
“Another day survived,” she said to herself. “Another step toward proving I deserve to lead this nation.”

As she returned to the Castle, the wind carried emotions and something hidden in the shadows of the world. A threat was coming—and Gracian knew it.
Whatever it was, the princess felt she was ready for the greater challenges ahead.