Chapter 14: Departure!

  Winter had arrived in full force. The sun was slow to wake, and daylight itself seemed frozen by the biting chill.

  The heavens remained a thick, ink-blue veil, save for the magicite stones floating at the street corners. They cast overlapping halos of pale, ethereal cyan light, barely holding the city back from plunging into total darkness. Snow had fallen throughout the night and showed no signs of exhaustion. Glory City lay cradled in a soft, white quilt; rooftops, eaves, and stone steps were all draped in pure silver, as if time itself had settled there.

  The long streets were desolate. Occasionally, a drunkard would stagger past, leaving a crooked trail of deep furrows in the snow, or a server from a tavern or gambling den would hurry by with a tucked collar, their breath forming small, fleeting ghosts of white mist. Even this, the most boisterous capital of the Empire, had sunk into a rhythmic, breathing silence—a vast quietude muffled by the snow, as if the entire world were listening to the soft sound of flakes melting.

  The investigation team had fully assembled in front of the Crimson Moon Inn.

  Two camp wagons were parked one behind the other, their metallic frames gleaming with a cold luster in the dim morning light. Eight Snow-Strider Hounds waited patiently beside the vehicles in groups of four, their exhaled breath freezing into fine mist in the frigid wind. These hounds were a breed of monster easily tamed; they were hulking beasts, nearly as tall as a man, with strength enough to haul heavy loads through deep drifts.

  The Glory Plains were not yet completely frozen over. While horses might have been faster, for the long journey north, these hounds were undoubtedly the more reliable choice.

  According to the previous grouping, the mercenaries Ronen and Wolf, the mage Ethan with his apprentice Mary, and Shen and Jiu from the bookstore occupied the lead wagon. The second wagon carried the soldier Vivian, the apprentice Zoe with her uncle Mark, and You Wu from the bookstore. Emma traveled alone—she and her snow wolf, Shasha, prowled the flanks of the convoy, acting as scouts and escorts.

  The wolf and the hounds sniffed at one another, throats vibrating with low, purring rumbles, their tails swaying slowly like banners in the wind. As disciplined monsters accustomed to order, they accepted one another quickly. One hound even extended a warm tongue to give Shasha a friendly lick on the snout. Having likely never seen a snow wolf before, the hounds kept nudging her with their noses, seemingly trying to memorize the scent of this distant cousin.

  The two young apprentices were immediately captivated by these "fluffy" creatures. Usually surrounded by ancient tomes, incantations, and crystals at the academy, they rarely had the chance to be so close to such friendly and... at least in their eyes... adorable monsters.

  Zoe was the first to crouch down. She tentatively extended her hand, and the moment her fingertips touched the Snow-Strider's thick, plush neck fur, she couldn't help but gasp. "So soft... so warm. It feels just like a blanket."

  Encouraged by Zoe, Mary followed suit, hovering half a step behind her friend. Her eyes were bright as she stared at the hound's peacefully drooping ears.

  "It won't suddenly turn and bite, will it?" Mary whispered, though her hand was already reaching forward.

  Zoe began stroking the fur in the direction of its growth, looking back with a grin. "Look at its eyes! It's so cute!"

  As if understanding her, the hound gave a comfortable grumble and leaned its head into Mary's palm.

  The morning light remained thin as the frost deepened. The rest of the group gathered around a spread-out leather map, illuminated by the pale cyan glow of the magicite lamp in Ronen's hand.

  Wolf pressed a calloused finger onto a corner of the map. "At the pace of these hounds, we should clear the Glory Plains by noon." His hand moved north, stopping at a tower-shaped icon. "There's an outpost here, used for warning against northern beast tides. We’ll take a breather there. If we get separated, that’s our rendezvous point."

  He pushed his finger further up, crossing the dotted line that marked the edge of the plains. "Beyond that is the Frostlands." Wolf’s tone turned solemn. "I don’t know that land well, but I've heard from other mercenaries—it should be... here." His nail tapped a village icon. "Dragonwood Village, ruled by the Augustus family."

  He turned slightly, placing a hand on Ronen’s shoulder. "The current head of the house is said to hold the title of 'Sword Saint.'" A trace of admiration flickered in Wolf’s eyes. "Many warriors your age venture to that town just for a glimpse of him."

  Ronen’s eyes lit up instantly. He stared at the circled location, heart leaping at this unexpected bonus.

  "Don't get your hopes up too high," Wolf added, splashing a bit of cold water on the boy's excitement. "A man like that is a legend; he might not even be in town. However, the town is friendly enough to travelers and well-equipped. We’ll spend our first night there."

  His finger traced the planned route upward again, moving slowly as if measuring unknown risks. "Beyond that, I'm in the dark. All I know is that from Dragonwood Village to Dragonwood Village, it's at least another eight hours of travel with no guaranteed rest stops. We'll decide our next move once we reach the town."

  The group offered no objections to Wolf's plan.

  The journey to the North had officially begun.

  The convoy rolled out through the north gate of Glory City under a gray sky and light flurries. The Glory Plains unfurled before Ronen—this vast expanse that fed half the Empire maintained a sense of quiet abundance even in winter. The earth was as flat as a whetstone, stretching to where the horizon met the low-hanging clouds. The first snow lay like a veil over the fields, revealing the neat outlines of furrows—ghostly traces of the rolling wheat waves from spring and summer.

  They followed the main road, which was wide enough for three wagons to ride abreast. Rows of upright holly trees lined the path, their leaves heavy with tufts of snow like soldiers in ceremonial sashes. Farmsteads and granaries were scattered in the distance, their snow-covered roofs eventually trailing thin curls of smoke as the day progressed. Everything looked stable and orderly. The air was crisp and clean, carrying the scent of snow and earth, yet hinting at the deep warmth of the soil beneath.

  Ronen turned his attention to the wagon itself.

  Magitechs were arguably the greatest invention of the century. As mages deepened their understanding of mana, its applications became more diverse, and these camp wagons were a masterpiece of that progress.

  The wagon was less of a vehicle and more of a mobile fortress. Built from northern black-iron wood with heavy plating and forged iron trim, it looked like a crouching beast. Six steel wheels formed its base, with the front four carved with anti-skid runes. The rear wheels were wrapped in durable lizard skin for traction.

  The front of the wagon featured a large pane of crystal-glass—tougher than ordinary glass—protected by a thick winter-bear hide that could be lowered to block the wind. While the vehicle was large, the passenger area occupied the front six feet, lined with thick yak fur and featuring two facing benches. A copper magicite lamp hung from the ceiling. The middle section housed the cargo, while the rear two feet were packed with magitech machinery—gears, pipes, and a slowly rotating azure magicite crystal.

  The four hounds pulled the heavy frame with surprising ease. They weren't actually straining against the weight; the pulling force was merely the "key" that activated the complex runic arrays within the wagon, which in turn drove the wheels. Under the eaves, a string of copper bells chimed in time with the swaying bunches of beast-repelling herbs.

  Wolf sat at the driver's seat, the reins held loosely. These trained monsters knew their mission.

  Inside, the world was different. Despite the snow and ruts outside, the shock-absorbing runes filtered the bumps into a gentle swaying, like a boat on a calm lake. Warming runes hidden in the floorboards and under the seats radiated a spring-like heat, sealing the cold away.

  As time passed, the sun failed to pierce the heavy clouds. Instead of stopping, the snow grew more frantic, turning into a white curtain that danced across the sky. The howling wind tore at every sound, shattering shouts into pieces. The snowy haze swallowed the light and the horizon.

  Wolf squinted, his grip on the reins tightening. He signaled the hounds to slow down. He looked around, his brow suddenly furrowing.

  The figure that was supposed to be scouting on the flank had disappeared.

  He could see no sign of Emma or her snow wolf.

  "Tsk," Wolf hissed. He twisted around and pounded on the crystal-glass window behind him.

  Ronen slid the window open, poking his face out. The freezing wind and snow immediately lashed at him, making him shiver.

  "Uncle? What is it?" Ronen had to shout; the wind was so loud that a normal voice wouldn't travel three steps.

  "I can't see the girl from the Law Enforcement team!" Wolf roared. "I knew we shouldn't have let her wander off alone... I can't tell if she's even near us anymore!"

  He paused as snow piled up on his shoulders.

  "Quick, ask those mages inside if they have a way to calm this damn weather—or if they can sense where she is!"