A colossal frostbound cell sat silently in the midst of a snow-drenched terrain, a desolate yet, treacherous landscape where an unrelenting and merciless wind howled like cries of souls forgotten in the abyss. It swept violently across the white expanse, transforming the area into a realm so inhospitable that no ordinary human could dream of crossing it unscathed. Should one dare to brave its fury, it would only spell certain and immediate death—so absolute that not even a trace of their body would remain, as if the land itself devoured the foolish.
Within the heart of this icy prison—this glacial tomb carved by the cruel hands of winter a figure lay, encased in a crystalline stillness—her body curled into a ball.
Morwynn Glacier.
She was sheathed in ice, her lips stained with an eerie, lifeless blue as though winter had pressed its frigid kiss upon them like lipgloss. Her raven-dark hair, short and spiky like shattered obsidian, shimmering with an unnatural sky-blue hue. Her skin, pale as moonlight on snow, was completely exposed to the biting cold, save for the scant protection of her thongs and bra barely holding on to her figure—the only remnants of warmth clinging to her otherwise bare and vulnerable body for dear life, as it could rip at any moment.
Just then—
A strange orb materialized from the ground, pulsing with an eerie cerulean light as it drifted toward the frozen prison as though guided by unseen forces. It hovered, then pressed itself against the ice, sinking into it like hot metal.
Crack—
The prison exploded into a thousand glittering shards and water, the orb's power ripping through the frost like a blade through like it was nothing. Morwynn's body collapsed onto the frozen earth, her lungs heaving as she coughed violently, cold liquid surging from her throat. The moment her skin met the ground, her eyes snapped open—wide, disoriented, alive.
She pushed herself up, trembling hands bracing against the earth as she lifted her torso.
Where... am I?
Her gaze darted across the desolate landscape, searching for familiarity, for meaning—but her mind was a void. Then, without a single warning, an arcane interface flickered before her, glowing with an icy blue as spectral letters emerged like it was being typed by unseen hands.
[Welcome To The Glacier System, User Morwynn Glacier]
•Tap To Proceed
She recoiled, nearly falling back at the sudden apparition.
The Glacier System?
The words gnawed at her like a beast, an enigma wrapped in frost. Her memories were a fog—she knew her name, Morwynn Glacier, but nothing else. No recollection of how she had come to be here, trapped in this frozen purgatory. No faces, no past, only the biting certainty that this name… did not feel like her own.
Then—like a siege weapon slamming into fortress walls—realization struck.
Morwynn Glacier.
The name was achingly familiar, not as her own, but as something else. A character. A role.
Yes—I remember
The thought surged through her like a spark in the dark. She was not of this world. She had been pulled into a game—Sprout & Sorcery—a title she had waited years to play, only to never conquer its final trial. The memories returned in a flood, crashing over her like an avalanche.
Her true name was Yuna Torres. A beta tester. A lady who had lived alone in a luxurious apartment, finally succumbing to sleep after engaging herself in playing some silly bee game on a cold night—only to wake here, in the body of a video game protagonist.
She had read stories like this before, devoured in web novels that focused on the character being transmigrated into the body of a fictional being. Apart from book series—there were also video games which the character had to level up in order to level up and leave this world only by defeating the final boss.
I know I've seen this before, but I never thought it could be real. She murmured in her thoughts as the cold gnawed at her bones.
So in order for her to continue—she had to also level and defeat the final boss, 'I'll have to work hard if I want to do that,' she said to herself in the silent abyss of her thoughts.
In many cases like this—most would have crumbled in terror at such a revelation. But Yuna Torres—now known as Morwynn Glacier as the system had said—felt only grim resolve.
Shivering, legs trembling beneath her, she forced herself upright and pressed a finger to the glowing prompt.
Ding, Ding—
The system dissolved, replaced by sprawling lines of text:
[SYSTEM USER INTERFACE—V 1.2]
•User: Morwynn Glacier
•Level: 1
•Title: Ice-Touched Scavenger
•Status: Frostbitten
•Location: Ishenholt Terrain.
•Temperature: -42°C
•Vitality: 47%
•Core Sync: 5%
[STATS]
HP (Health Points): 140/160
MP (Mana Pool): 80/120
Frost Resilience: 24%
Cryo Affinity: 12%
Endurance: 10
Strength: 9
Agility: 11
Willpower: 13
Perception: 15
FROST CORE (Dormant):
A shard of eternal winter pulses faintly in your chest.
Sync Progress: 16%
Awakening Threshold: 100%
Passive Bonus: +10% Resistance to Cold
[Locked Skill]: Frozen Veins
[Locked Skill]: Glacial Pulse
[Locked Skill]: Absolute Zero
{ACTIVE SKILLS}
1. Frost Step (Lv. 1):
Briefly shift through the icebound plane to avoid damage or close distance.
Cooldown: 10 sec
2. . Shardlash (Lv. 1):
Launch a razor of ice dealing 100% Frost Damage.
Mana Cost: 20
3. Ice Blades (Lv 2):
Craft daggers with ice that deals about 120% Frost Damage
Mana Cost: 40
Cooldown: 20 sec
{PASSIVE TRAITS}
•Iceblood: Slowly regenerate HP when exposed to subzero conditions.
•Cold Touch: Physical strikes deal minor frost damage.
•Void of Warmth (Hidden): ???
QUESTS:
[Main]: Unlock the Frost Core's True Power
Progress: 5%
[Side]: Find shelter before user freezes
Time Remaining: 1:00:00
Morwynn's eyes flickered across the screen, overwhelmed by the amount of texts it displayed. "Are all of these really necessary?" she muttered, arms wrapped tightly around herself in a futile attempt to ward off the cold.
From the novels she had read—the system was usually quite simple, one of her favorite novels which she loved was 'Chaos Crafter' not only because of the battles and drama it held, but because of the simplicity it possesed. If she was going to be a novel character, nobody was going to read such a novel.
Right?—
The wind's bite was relentless, sapping her strength with every passing second. Her limbs shook violently, her breath coming in ragged, misted gasps.
Before thinking of any other thing, I need to get out of this place before the time elapses.
But where? The storm raged around her, a white maelstrom that swallowed all landmarks. Each step forward was agony, the cold burrowing deeper into her flesh, her thoughts growing sluggish.
If she wanted to survive—if she wanted to level up, as the system demanded—she needed to escape this frozen hell. No human could endure -42°C for long. Already, her vision swam, her legs threatening to buckle.
Then—collapse.
Her knees struck on the cold hard flakes, her body giving way to the cold.
In the moment of hopelessness—the system chimed, its tone haunting.
{HP Reduction: -10}
As this happened, Morwynn felt like an icepick was being embedded into her soft flesh. She shouted, holding her chest in pain as the pain was far too unbearable.
Rising to her feet and facing the terrain, she could spot something—atleast someone, or rather the silhouette of who she thought could be a fellow human like herself.
"Hey, please I need your help," Morwynn managed to scream as she felt like her throat was already frozen solid by the cold winds blowing into her mouth.
The figure advanced, their footfalls trudging with an eerie, metallic weight—each step they took through the frozen earth sounded odd as though their limbs were sheathed in serrated plates. Fallen snowflakes hissed and crackled against their form, melting upon contact as though repelled by some unseen heat.
Thai stranger—this ominous wanderer clad in shadow, gave no indication they had heard her desperate plea.
"Help me!" she muttered, the words barely escaping her chapped lips as she summoned the last dregs of her strength to push through the biting cold. Her limbs trembled, her breath came in ragged gasps, yet still she forced herself forward, one laborious step at a time. But the figure marched on, indifferent, their presence as unyielding as the winter itself
Then, she halted—overcome by dawning horror as the truth of this entity's form unveiled itself to her.
Clad in jagged and bouncing obsidian armor, every part sharp enough to flay the flesh with a single graze, the towering knight loomed like a specter. A blade, cruel and weathered, carved a silent furrow through the snow as they dragged it behind them. From the gaps in their helm, frigid breaths escaped in ghostly white plumes, each exhale a whisper of something neither entirely alive nor wholly dead.
Morwynn's heart pounded like an old, traditional drum. Was this a man? A knight? Or some abomination, a hollow thing stalking the wastes with no purpose? Since the moment she had first stepped into this world, she had faced horrors of every kind—Ghouls with their gnarled and bloodied claws, Dire Wolves with deafening howls, Giants that shook the earth with each step, Skeletons rattling with cursed animation, Trolls whose hides repelled steel and dragons whose wings blotted out the sun—all creatures known to her in the realms of Sprout & Sorcery and the annals of fantasy.
'Is it that the game had a missing file?,' she muttered in her thoughts.
In that instant—the tall knight had noticed her presence, stopping as it slowly and menacingly turned its head towards her. Its eyes burst with redness, as Morwynn felt like it peeked into her soul.
Fearfully, she slowly began to walk back, 'Just what the hell is that thing?,' she questioned in her mind, the fear in her body overcoming the cold in her body.
The system emerged from blank space, prompting her to slightly tilt her head down to were it levitated:
[A Common Revenant Has Appeared]
•Time-Sensitive Quest: Survive or defeat 5 Revenants
•1:00
Morwynn's brows knitted in utter confusion and bewilderment as the countdown began.
Why were there five when she could see one?
No time to ponder as the earth ruptured.
Four additional armored horrors clawed their way from the frozen soil, iron fist punching through the crust. Each being possessed different instruments of death—maces, clubs studded with rusted spikes, daggers and swords notched from past battles.
And to add fuel to the already burning furnace, a colossal translucent dome erupted from the earth, sealing only her within an arena of nightmare.