of an unexpected snowstorm.
"Now there is also the snow on the beach, you can't see a damn thing! Master, I don't know how much longer I will last in this cold! But how long until the goal is reached? I don't even understand if we're going around in circles".
"Get it over with this master, or I swear to you that I'm leaving you here! We cannot stop: we would freeze in an moment! But you're right, we must be careful not to lose our way and to understand if we're going in the right direction".
By sticking the crosier in the snow, Nicholas carved a furrow that was not covered by the new snow and remained clearly visible even from a distance.
"And you are only doing this now?" complained Pétros.
"Next time, instead of rambling on about it, you come up with an idea!" the Bishop replied, disappointed.
"Have you given him a name? All famous swords have a name," asked Pétros, pointing to the winner.
"Ah, yes? In what book did you read it precisely? If you know how to read."
"I know how to read my name, and I know how to do a lot of things that would amaze you..." Pétros pointed out in a raucous manner.
"And in any case it is not a sword, but a sacred stick, and the wood with which it is made...it is even more so than you can imagine!
"But you wield it like a weapon."
"Only in necessity. If you want a name we could call him: the exterminator of chatty goblins and cheaters."
"Hey, you offend me! I may be chatty, but I'm not a cheat!"
"Really? And the dice game?"
"Skill! With turricula it's almost impossible to cheat!"
"Exactly, almost..." emphasized the Bishop.
"Apart from the fact that I immediately realized that that creature was infamous and treacherous, we didn't have much choice..."
The Bishop put his hand on his mouth to shut him up, carried him to the shelter behind a rock and whispered.
"This is it... look down there at the bottom."
In the distance, above a promontory, you could see a cart pulled by animals carrying a large metal cage. Inside, one could make out the three children crouching and cold, while outside, standing guard, were two giants who looked like ice. The caravan was mysteriously standing still waiting.
"Here are the children! We have finally caught up with them!" rejoiced Nicholas quietly, so as not to be heard.
"It's about time...obviously now you have a plan to bring those two enormous things down, don't you?"
"Are you referring to the Golems? Nothing that a few well-aimed shots of my pastoral hasn't already destroyed".
"You mean you've faced similar monsters before and come out in one piece?"
"Actually the Golems I shot down were made of clay, while those look like ice, but I don't think there is much difference. What worries me is the hooded coachman. From here I don't understand how dangerous he is."
He squinted his eyes to better focus the image.
"So?" Pétros interrupted him.
"So we're going to make the most of the surprise factor. The Lord will guide our actions!"
In defiance of danger, the Bishop sneaked up on one of the Golems from behind and beat him with fast but strong clubs on his legs until he fell to the ground. The second Golem, as soon as he noticed him, went towards him and tried clumsily, but at the same time dangerously, to hit the man who managed to dodge the slow assaults. With the first of the giants out of combat and the other one who could not dodge the hammering,
Nicholas felt the victory in his hands. Pétros himself had become swaggering and sadistic by kicking the one on the ground.
"Take this! And this one! Come on, at the end of the day maybe I'll use your ears to refresh my wine!"
"Don't waste any useless time and go and free the boys!"
"The children! Sure, I'm going now!"
As he was about to make his way to the wagon, he felt a frozen grip grasping his ankles and making him trip.
"But what on earth..."
Pétros noticed that the fragments of the broken legs had gathered to form small Golems that were poaching him, while in the original one the limbs were growing back with an alarming hurry.
"Ouch, ouch! This is not good...absolutely not..." he stirred while Nicholas, intent as he was in the struggle, was unaware of the evolution of the situation.
"Will you stop babbling and go to the cage?" he took it up again.
"I would gladly do it if these stupid popsicles would let me go, and if...watch your back!" he shouted.
The downed Golem had completely recovered and was heading threateningly towards the Bishop who found himself surrounded.
"All right, I admit that the ice ones are much worse than the clay ones, but that doesn't make them indestructible!
The more the Bishop inflicted damage with fury, the more quickly the creatures regenerated, bringing discomfort to man. Even the little leprechaun found himself facing more and more mini golems that prevented him from approaching the children.
"At this rate they will overwhelm us! We must find a way to destroy them for good!"
A quick reconnaissance of the surrounding area, made an idea flash in Nicholas's mind.
"The coachman! During the battle he never moved, perhaps he is the summoner, we must eliminate him as soon as possible!"
With a desperate gesture Nicholas rushed close to his companion and freed him with a single blow of the annoying beings that were threatening him.
"Go, you are free!"
He found out too much about the move: so much so that he received a frostbite from the colossus on his back that he threw him far away. His strong constitution allowed him, even if with fatigue and wobbling, to get up and fight again. Surely with his determination he would have resisted long before collapsing, or at least he would have done everything to give the goblin time to stop the Summoner.
When the Krampus finally reached the chariot on the promontory, a deafening noise announced the formation of a large black vortex that was opening right in front of them. The hooded figure, until then silent, rejoiced.
"This is it! The portal has finally opened!
The face of the being, now in evidence, revealed itself familiar to Pétros, who felt the blood freeze.
"Pelznickel!"
