Chapter 30 – Cold Readings and Cold Marches

  Seven – The Frozen Wilds

  Nestled within the remnants of a once-sturdy structure, Seven found a fragile semblance of shelter, leaning against the frost-kissed concrete.

  With deliberate movements, he rummaged through his pack and unveiled a ration of dried meat. It was dense and tough, but each bite provided a welcome distraction, sharpening his focus even if just a bit.

  The flavor lacked excitement, yet in this vast wilderness, the simplest sustenance meant survival.

  His fingers automatically brushed over the place where his right shoulder had once been whole—the familiar ache had dulled to an annoying throb, but the memory remained vivid.

  That woman—a twisted mix of beauty and danger.

  He closed his eyes, feeling the need to assess his condition. “Examine.”

  A gentle blue luminescence emanated from the mark on his neck, flickering softly in the harsh morning light. The mana enveloped him, revealing a wealth of information:

  Status Effects:

  ? Frostbite (Left Hand)

  ? Light Bleeding (Right Shoulder)

  ? Fatigue

  Seven let out a quiet hiss, teeth clenched tight. “I’m not ready for another confrontation… I must conserve my strength.”

  Suppressing the spell, he relaxed against the wall. The “Examine” skill had transformed into a valuable ally, almost like an intuitive sense. It could analyze not only himself but also others and the ambient mana in his surroundings. Perhaps there was a silver lining to being marked after all.

  His gaze shifted to his new rifle, a robust, mana-infused weapon resting peacefully by his side like a dormant beast. While he still needed to master wielding it one-handed, he knew that in a pinch, he would rise to the challenge.

  As he stared at the door, where the wind whispered through the boarded cracks, he pondered, “…Still no signs of life. No cities. No firelight. Just an endless expanse of white.”

  Eventually, lulled by the cold, he slipped into an uneasy sleep, hopeful that the dawn would bring clarity and purpose..

  Exciting Adventures Await: The Journey of the War Rabbit Guild North of the City!

  As the crisp winter air danced through the frost-kissed trees and along the winding canyon paths, the enthusiasm among the newest recruits of the War Rabbit Guild was palpable. Despite the icy grip of the terrain, they followed in the seasoned footsteps of their mentors, each step brimming with potential and promise.

  Atop a rugged ridge, Ripper stood like a beacon—arms crossed and his cloak billowing dramatically behind him, reminiscent of a proud war banner. The moment he appeared, laughter and chatter faded, replaced by a focused silence. Ripper, a former commander with a keen survivor’s instinct, scanned the expansive landscape with a single, piercing eye that seemed to hold a world of wisdom.

  “This is where you’ll realize that the world, while vast and beautiful, doesn’t always care about your optimism,” he said, his voice deep and steady. “It’s cold; it can be cruel. Yet, it never blinks, and that's why we’re here—to prepare!”

  Below him, five recruits stood together, their boots cracking the frost beneath them as they adjusted their positions. A misstep could lead them to tumble down the slope, but their spirits remained high and ready to learn.

  Standing beside Ripper, Raven crouched near a jagged ridge, her fingers delicately tracing the faint outline of W.M.B. tracks hidden beneath a layer of ice. Each breath she released formed a soft mist in the air as she narrowed her focus. The black bob of her hair peeked out from beneath her hood, highlighting her composed demeanor. With the enchanted crossbow strung across her back, she exuded a calm readiness that inspired silent confidence in her fellow recruits.

  In the back, Hopper—tall, lean, and a bit unsteady—was wrapped in reinforced scout leathers. His curious eyes darted around, taking in every shadow and snowdrift. He wasn’t intimidated; he was simply keenly aware of his surroundings.

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  Then, with a sudden straightening, Raven caught Hopper’s attention, and for a moment, he lost his steady gaze.

  Not one to miss a beat, Fluffy elbowed him playfully. “Easy there, Hopper. That’s just a war rabbit! No need for distractions!”

  Hopper flushed but tried to regain his composure, adjusting his scarf with a slight smile. “I wasn’t—never mind…” he trailed off, flustered yet amused.

  Raven kept her focus sharp. “Discipline is key. If your attention wanes, you might miss what truly poses a threat.” Her voice was matter-of-fact, infused with a caring strength.

  Fluffy, however, was electric with energy. The bright blonde curls escaping her partially hooded helmet framed her cheerful face, and a playful orange carrot dangled lazily from her mouth. Dressed in lightweight, flexible armor that showcased her agility, she twirled a dagger with ease, practically bouncing on her feet. “So, no warm-up duels today?” she asked, wide-eyed with excitement.

  “No fighting unless necessary,” Raven replied, her tone patient but firm. “Today’s about reconnaissance. Wasting energy in the wild isn’t just unwise; it can get you hurt.”

  With exaggerated disappointment, Fluffy whirled the dagger. “Training without a little action feels like just a stroll!”

  Ripper chuckled heartily, his laughter echoing through the chilly air. “You’ll find those quiet moments far more valuable when something sneaks up on you!”

  Raising a gloved hand, he motioned the group to pause as he scanned the open valley before them. Old, cracked stone pillars jutted from the snow like the jagged teeth of a long-forgotten giant.

  “Stay sharp,” he advised, determination in his voice. “This area has been noted for potential W.M.B. activity. While we haven’t confirmed any sightings, remember: caution is your best friend in the wild.”

  Fluffy leaned closer to Hopper, eyes twinkling with mischief. “This is the best part—the thrilling idea that something might just jump out!”

  Hopper took a cautious glance around the trees. “Honestly, I think I preferred the warmth of the city.”

  Smiling, Ripper turned back to the recruits, his breath creating a cloud in the air. “The city didn’t challenge you. This wilderness will teach you to earn every step you take.”

  With that, he moved onward, his cloak sweeping gracefully across the icy ground, leading the way into the adventure ahead!

  Seven – That Night

  The fire crackled softly, sending a gentle flicker of light against the damp walls of the derelict structure. Once a bustling warehouse, it now stood as a half-buried refuge amidst the snow, its warm glow barely reaching beyond the immediate surroundings.

  Seven sat close to the flames, his posture hunched, a shadow of his former self. The rigors of the past weeks had chiselled his features, making his cheekbones more pronounced and leaving his cheeks hollow from the relentless cold and meager rations of dried meat. His military jacket now hung loosely on him, a patchwork of his own making, stitched with care by his trembling hands.

  Nearby, a broken shard of glass leaned against a crate, catching the firelight in a way that drew his gaze—not out of vanity, but from a need to confront the strange figure staring back at him.

  With dark circles under his eyes and lips that were cracked and gray, he noticed the scars that marred his right side. Some were healed but still bore the ghost of pain, while others remained raw, a stark reminder of past battles. He also noticed the stump of his arm, wrapped tightly in cloth and twine, pulsing faintly with remnants of discomfort.

  In that moment, he found it difficult to recognize the man in the reflection.

  “…Still alive,” he murmured to himself, almost lost in the hissing of the burning wood. “Just barely.”

  Raising a battered notebook from beneath his cloak—a soldier's journal filled with fragmented thoughts, sketches, and calculations—he carefully tore a strip of cloth from the back page. With a shard of charcoal, he wrote a simple yet profound statement:

  > If any of them are alive… I’ll find them.

  He folded the note and tucked it away securely in a side pouch, a small promise to guide him.

  His gaze drifted upward to the skeletal ceiling, where fractured beams and flakes of snow created gaps. The black sky loomed above, adorned with stars dimmed by the cold haze. He watched it for a while—not seeking answers—but to affirm that the night sky still existed, a vast reminder of hope and resilience.

  Next, he tightened his gear, seeking warmth, and nestled himself against the wall. As he closed his eyes, he knew that sleep wouldn’t come easily, but even the thought of rest was a welcome reprieve from his burdens.

  War Rabbit Guild – Northern Highlands, Same Night

  Miles to the North, beyond the forest line and over glacial hills, the War Rabbit Guild’s training camp radiated discipline, a beacon of resilience in the night.

  In a shallow clearing beneath a protective rock shelf, the camp had taken shape for the evening. Runestones, carved with care and glowing softly, formed a reassuring perimeter, their warm light pushing back the shadows that draped around them. Snow danced gently in the air, forming lazy spirals as the wind, though sharp, felt less harsh under the magical barrier.

  Ripper crouched at the edge of their circle, focused on carving another rune into the frost with the blade-hilt of his weapon. “This,” he stated firmly, gesturing toward the vibrant orange glyph, “is what separates us from being prey.”

  The circle of recruits, some shivering while others masked their discomfort, observed him with a mix of admiration and wariness.

  Fluffy, with her arms casually folded behind her head and a fresh carrot stem dangling from her lips, couldn't help but grin. “I thought we were the predators!”

  “You are,” Raven added confidently, kneeling by the fire. With a polished heat-stone in hand, she pressed mana into it with careful precision. The stone pulsed to life, radiating gentle warmth through the circle.

  “However,” she continued, “predators can fall victim to cold and carelessness just as quickly as they can to claws.”

  Hopper, bundled snugly in his heavier layers, raised a hand hesitantly. “So… why not just carry more food?”

  Ripper met his gaze with a steady expression. “Because food doesn’t cook itself. Fire creates smoke. Smoke draws attention. Every flame carries the risk of a conflict you didn’t ask for.”

  He activated another stone with a quick sigil, sending a soft glow towards their tents—a reassuring light amidst the darkness.

  “Energy conservation,” Raven chimed in, exuding authority. “We’re not here as tourists. We’re scouts, which means we need to outlast both the terrain and ourselves.”

  Fluffy twirled a short sword, her demeanor light-hearted despite the seriousness of their situation. “So… no hunting for fun, then?”

  “If your idea of ‘fun’ results in frostbite or a W.M.B. stampede, then absolutely not,” Ripper replied, his tone firm. “This isn’t a festival. We don’t get lives back if we lose them.”

  With that, he moved toward the central tent and threw a thick fur over the entrance to provide shelter.

  “Set up watches. Raven, Fluffy—you’re on the first shift.”

  As the others settled into their blankets and adjusted their bedrolls, the wind outside picked up, howling like a distant specter against their protective barrier.

  Perched on a boulder, Raven scanned the treeline with vigilant intent. Her crossbow rested on her knees, ready and waiting. The cold seemed to hold no sway over her.

  “Did you hear that?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

  Fluffy’s ears perked beneath her hood, and she nodded. “Yeah… not too close, but something’s out there.”

  “Could be just the wind.”

  “Or something watching us,” Fluffy responded, her excitement brimming just beneath the surface.

  Raven’s expression hardened in determination. “Then we’ll be watching back.”

  As silence enveloped them, snow began to shift in the distance, and the night held its breath, brimming with potential and promise.