The glacial wind cut into Touya's face like a knife's edge. The freezing air he drew into his lungs with every breath was a brutal reminder that kept him awake. Days, weeks melted away in the same ruthless cycle: Survive, walk, hunt, find a hole, repeat. The feeling of being lost in an endless white hell had seeped into his bones.
Yet, in this hell, the bond they had woven between them, Lanert and him, was the only source of warmth. What had started for Touya as a simple relationship of convenience had slowly transformed into a deep trust. The hand Lanert had extended to him, expecting nothing in return, had created a crack in Touya's hardened world. If Lanert died, would that crack seal shut? Perhaps Touya felt that if he didn't repay this kindness, he would be left with nothing. This thought unsettled him.
"Where does this attitude of yours towards people come from?" Touya asked, his voice blending with the howling wind. The act of questioning itself was foreign to him.
Lanert was surprised, immediately going on the defensive. "Huh? Did I do something wrong? I'm sorry, my apologies."
"No," Touya interjected quickly, rubbing his face. "It's just... are you some kind of saint who wants to help everyone? How can you keep going like this without any self-interest?" The doubt within him was reflected in his voice.
The worry on Lanert's face gave way to a warm smile. "I see. Actually, I look at people... with the perspective that they are human, just like me. I was also kidnapped at a young age and subjected to... things. But I realized this: If I can help even one person, it means I can achieve what I couldn't do for myself. It carries forward the purpose, the meaning in my life."
Touya's brow furrowed. He didn't understand. This contradicted the "me or them" logic he had learned in the backstreets.
Seeing Touya's confusion, Lanert continued, his voice soft but firm: "Real wars, Touya, aren't fought with sword and shield. They are fought by how close or far people get to the purposes in their lives. To be a beacon of hope for those who have given up, for those who have lost their way... Maybe they too will one day realize the importance of being a helping hand to others. That is the true war to be won: The war to create a purpose in life."
Touya couldn't fully grasp these words. His world was far dirtier, far more ruthless than Lanert's seemingly naive philosophy. The filth a street rat lived in wasn't just mud; it was what people did to each other. Yet, there was a glimmer, an allure within this idea. That strange, human emotion sprouting in the depths of his soul seemed to respond to this glimmer.
They returned to the ice-covered hollow next to the corpse of their latest hunt, the fox. Touya sat sharpening his nearly dulled dagger. Lanert pointed to the crude map he had drawn on the frozen ground.
"By my estimate, we should be able to leave this glacial desert and reach a human settlement in a day or two. We must head northeast."
Touya turned his pale face towards the direction from which the curse blew, the northeast. He didn't know what they would find there, but he now had a reason for more than just survival.
---
Liesta swung her claymore with the finesse of a work of art, shaking off the last drop of blood from the blade. Beside her stood Magien, breathless but with a victorious smile on her face. The duo had quickly developed an effective tactic: Magien's flame spells distracted the enemy and weakened its defenses, while Liesta delivered the lethal blow. Today's prey—two monsters and a wolf—had been good loot for them.
"Gather it," Liesta commanded, her voice icy and effective. Magien immediately sprang into action.
As Liesta skillfully separated the valuable parts of the loot (claws, fangs, quality pelts), she left the rest for the scavengers. It was a simple strategy: Take what you need, leave the rest for the weak. This way, she was building an image of a "benefactor" among the other vagrants and refugees in the area, earning their loyalty. Whether she was a messiah or a powerful patron to them didn't matter; the result was their obedience.
As they made their way towards the outskirts of the kingdom, to her temporary headquarters, they passed through the admiring and grateful gazes of hundreds of desperate humans and other races. Liesta felt a pang in her heart as she looked at this sick, impoverished crowd. She saw them as pawns, yes, but she also considered them the initial mortar for building something new from these ruins. She had to train them, discipline them.
She retreated to her room to prepare for the meeting with her three newly acquired allies. The room was spacious and spartan. In the center stood a round table, as if teleported there, and around it waited three silhouettes.
The tall, handsome young man leaning against the wall began, bowing respectfully. "Lady Liesta, your presence is an honor."
The short but powerfully built dwarf next to the table jumped up. "Miss Liesta! To solve the source of the problem—"
His words were cut off by the red-haired, curvaceous woman. Covering the dwarf's mouth with her hand, she said, "Limune, quiet! We cannot speak without the mist." Then she turned to Liesta, her green eyes serious, "Please, Liesta. Let's begin."
With a slight nod from Liesta, Limune opened his hands. A thick, misty magic enveloped every corner of the room, ensuring no sound leaked out. Silence fell.
The tall warrior, Telvies, spoke: "First, we have learned part of the exit route. In a tower in the 'Katatrel' region of the kingdom, there is a dimensional gateway leading to a protected human-elf settlement."
"And the difficulty?" Liesta asked without wasting any time.
The expression on Telvies's face clouded. He looked at Limune with displeasure. "Limune can explain this part better."
The red-haired woman, Limune, protested: "What? Why me? Seriously?" But feeling everyone's eyes on her, her shoulders slumped. Her voice from behind the mist veil bore no trace of her previous cheerfulness.
"Leave the Cathedral... The one ruling this kingdom... is a creature," she whispered, her voice trembling. "But not a creature as you imagine. It's an entity that has seeped into the kingdom's stones, its walls, spreading like poison. Its influence is Tier 2, maybe even Tier 4. It plays with people's minds and uses magic, making them puppets without them even realizing. It raises the dead to join its army, controls other creatures. The worst part is... it's bound to this place. As the population here grows, so does its power; as they die, they add to its strength. And its attention never wavers. It absolutely blocks the exit from here."
Liesta's golden eyes widened slightly. A potentially Tier 4 entity, controlling Tier 2-3 creatures, in a small kingdom mostly comprised of Tier 1 individuals... This was a far more serious threat than she had anticipated.
Maintaining her composure, she asked: "How do we protect ourselves from its magic?"
The dwarf, Rabgo, answered with his frail but wise voice: "Fear, My Lady. Chaos and war. Anything that harms its kingdom weakens its concentration and magic. To protect yourself, your inner will must be strong. But more importantly, you must create a rival power center."
Telvies continued, excitement in his voice: "People see you as a messiah. Those around you are largely cleansed of its magic. This means you are a threat to it! As you expand your domain, you can break its power! If people switch to your side, its control shatters!"
Then suddenly, he drew his sword, cut his left palm, and pressed his bleeding hand onto the table. "I, Telvies, a warrior of the human race, swear to fight in your name until my last drop of blood!"
Rabgo didn't hesitate either, offering his blood to the table in the same way. "I, Rabgo, a runic craftsman of the dwarf race, pledge to fight for your cause!"
Everyone looked at Limune. Her eyes welled up, but she stood up and performed the same ritual. "I, Limune, a master of illusions... Please, get us out of this hell, My Lady. I swear I will fight for you!"
There was a moment of silence. Then a sound, almost a laugh, escaped Rabgo's mouth, turning into a short chuckle. Telvies joined him. Finally, Magien burst into laughter, breaking the tense atmosphere.
Liesta involuntarily smiled faintly, her cheeks slightly flushed.
Limune looked around, bewildered and embarrassed. "What? What happened? Ugh, I'm not going to tell you about my curse again!" she grumbled, this time her anger was real, but inwardly, she was relieved.
---
Touya and Lanert had finally reached the northeastern border after a grueling journey that lasted two weeks longer than they had estimated. During this time, Lanert had tried to teach Touya how to control his awareness more finely, how to use his energy sparingly. Touya's swordsmanship had also improved considerably. The cleaver he had found, reaching from his hand to his elbow, suited his slashing style. Though different from Lanert's defense-oriented style, he had grasped the basic principles.
There were subtle changes in Touya's appearance too. The childish look on his face had matured a bit; the traces of the pain he had seen and the struggles he had fought were readable in the depths of his eyes. He looked stronger, more focused.
Ahead, after crossing a snow-covered valley, a kingdom surrounded by massive, dark stone walls appeared on the horizon. It was a hopeful sight, but it also instilled a sense of unease in them. In such a desolate land, who had built this massive structure, and why?
Just as this question plagued their minds, the hill-sized boulder in front of them suddenly came to life. The stones grated, cracked, and before the two young men's eyes, transformed into a stone giant at least twenty meters tall. The creature's eyes gazed into emptiness like dark caves, emanating a glacial fury.
Touya gripped his dagger tightly. Fatigue and exhaustion gave way to a familiar, sharp survival instinct. A bitter smile appeared at the corner of his lips. Without turning to Lanert, he murmured into the icy air:
"Fate... really doesn't seem to like me, does it?"
Lanert didn't respond. He simply focused on the stone monster preparing to attack them with steely determination. The battle was about to begin again.