Searching for a Sword in the Snowy Mountains
The second year since the hero Himmel defeated the Demon King.
A cold wind swirled fine snowflakes, lashing against my face and bringing a bone-chilling cold. Above the snow line of the Shuvia Mountains, all I could see was a blinding expanse of silver-white, the continuous snow-capped peaks like the spine of a giant dragon, silently stretching across the Northern Frontier sky.
Achoo!
Ruby the cold. She wrapped her thick fur cloak tighter around herself, but the biting wind still pierced through her layers of clothing like icy needles.
She trudged through the knee-deep snow, each step accompanied by a muffled "plop" and a spray of snow, muttering complaints under her breath. Her breath instantly condensed into tiny frosts on her eyelashes and hair.
"Damn it... Earl Tahe... He's utterly arrogant and unreasonable! What does he mean by 'If you can't find the family heirloom sword, all of you heroes, no matter what, will be thrown in jail'? I'm furious! Just a minor Earl... When I get back, I'm going to tell my father and make him Judgment this unreasonable guy a lesson!"
Ruby her fists, her emerald eyes Burning with the fury of being bullied, but in the freezing cold, that fury seemed to have lost some of its intensity.
Upon hearing this, Himmel, who was walking ahead, gracefully brushed the snowflakes off his shoulders. His signature blue hair, illuminated by the snow, seemed to have a faint layer of frost on it.
He turned back and gave Ruby a warm smile, his tone still calm, as if the harsh environment and difficulties were insignificant:
"Calm down, Ruby. I have indeed heard that there are many nobles in the Northern Countries who are tough and arrogant. But it's alright, let's treat this search as a special snow mountain training exercise, shall we? It'll be a good opportunity to hone our will and cold resistance, and it'll have its own unique flavor, won't it?"
As he spoke, he unconsciously stomped his feet lightly, clearly indicating that the low temperature here was not entirely unaffected by him.
"Gurgle..." Ruby's stomach growled loudly, and she angrily pulled a hard piece of rye bread from her small bag and took a vicious bite.
The bread made a crisp "crunch, crunch" sound, which was particularly clear in the silent snow.
"No matter how many times I eat this, I can hardly imagine that this is the sound of eating bread... It's more like biting into an ice cube! It's so cold here! My magic is almost frozen!" She continued to complain indistinctly as she chewed with difficulty, feeling like her teeth were about to break.
Heiter, following behind, took a swig of strong liquor. The pungent liquid flushed his face, and he broke the silence of the snow-capped mountain with a hearty laugh, "Haha! Little Ruby, complaining won't warm you up! Have a sip? Authentic Northern Flame Liquor, guaranteed to warm you from your throat to your toes!"
"No way!"
Ruby jumped up like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, though her movements were somewhat clumsy due to the heavy clothing.
"Heiter, don't even think about it! Lady Ruby an elegant mage! And Heiter, drink less! We won't take care of you if you pass out in the snow! Ruby doesn't want to become a drunken old man like you!" She wrinkled her little nose in disgust, stuffed the last bite of bread into her mouth, and continued to struggle with the snow.
"That's rude. I'm only 17!"
"He looks like an old man," Ruby herself.
Eisen walked silently at the front, the dwarf warrior's heavy boots making a dull, steady creak as they cleared a path for the group. His massive battle axe rested on his shoulder, its blade gleaming coldly in the snow.
Frieren and Lowell remained at the back of the group. Frieren was practically curled up in a ball, her silver hair and eyebrows covered in frost. Wrapped in a thick blanket, she was half-supported, half-carried forward by Lowell, her emerald eyes half-closed, looking as if she might hibernate at any moment. Lowell, on the other hand, remained calm, only carefully wrapping Frieren even tighter, his gaze occasionally sweeping over the snow-covered mountains around them.
Lupa was clearly cold too, but she didn't show it. She tried to adapt to the difficulty of walking in the snow and the double pressure brought by the Gravity Magic that had not been lifted from her body. Each breath brought out a long white steam, and she walked silently while twirling her spear, trying to dispel the biting cold through high-intensity training.
Linié remained expressionless, seemingly unaffected by the bitter cold. Her deep blue eyes observed the tracks in the snow, as if recording survival data in this extreme environment.
In this icy world where time seems to Frozen, they have been searching in vain for more than twenty days.
Based on the vague family legends provided by Earl Tahe and an ancient map so rudimentary it was practically nonexistent, they traversed several possible areas marked on the map, but found no trace of the sword.
If it weren't for Himmel's insistence on "being loyal to one's employer" and the potential trouble of incurring the wrath of the northern nobles, Ruby have wanted to return home long ago.
After another arduous half-day of marching, the group finally reached a relatively flat hilltop. The wind seemed to have subsided here, and the view was expansive, revealing distant, snow-capped peaks shimmering dazzlingly in the sunlight.
However, on this seemingly deserted snow-capped peak, a figure suddenly stood on the edge of the cliff, as if it were part of this perilous situation itself.
He wore a seemingly thin yet spotless silver-white light armor, its style ancient and simple, much like the attire of a high-ranking swordsman in a human kingdom. Over this, he wore a gray-white cloak, which fluttered in the biting mountain wind, stirring up fine snowflakes.
Most strikingly, amidst his short, silvery-gray hair, resembling the fur of an ice wolf, stood a pair of sharp, black horns that snaked upwards—a mark of the Demons.
At this moment, he held a sheathed longsword in his hand. The sheath was entirely ice-blue, as if carved from millennia-old ice, and inlaid with several dark blue gems like fragments of stars. Even in the dim light of the day, it naturally exuded a condensed and unyielding chill and a subtle yet powerful magical fluctuation. It was exactly the same as the family heirloom sword that Earl Tahe had described.
Himmel took a deep breath of the frigid air and stepped onto the platform first. The snow crunched softly beneath his feet. He stopped about ten paces behind the Demons swordsman, his right hand gracefully resting on the hilt of his sword. He bowed slightly, performing a perfect knightly salute, his voice clear and calm, as serene as the mountain wind and snow.
"Greetings, Demons General. We've come to seize this sword from you."
The Demons swordsman slowly turned around. He had a face as cold and stern as a marble sculpture, with deep-set features and an almost transparent pale complexion. His golden vertical pupils, like Melt gold, swept across the crowd expressionlessly before finally settling on Himmel. His gaze was devoid of any emotion, as if he were looking at a few stones blocking his path.
"A human hero, isn't he?" He spoke, his voice deep and magnetic, yet carrying a metallic quality that blended perfectly with the frigid environment. "This sword originally belonged to my Demons, did you know that?"
Himmel maintained a polite smile, but his blue eyes had sharpened. He gently shook his head, his tone still mild, yet carrying an undeniable firmness. "I'm sorry, General. The client's request is not about the ownership of the sword. Our mission is to 'retrieve' it. Therefore..."
He paused slightly, lowered his center of gravity, and assumed a sword-drawing stance, his clear voice carrying on the mountain breeze:
The word I used was "robbery".
The Demons general's golden pupils contracted slightly, seemingly not expecting his opponent to be so direct. He was silent for a moment, his fingers gripping the sword sheath tightening slightly, and a chilling killing intent, almost tangible, began to emanate from his body, as if the surrounding temperature had dropped even further.
"... Yeah."
He slowly uttered two words, each one like an ice bead falling to the ground, resounding with conviction.
"Interesting logic, then, let's get started."
Before the words were even finished, Himmel's figure had already moved! His boot heels slammed into the frozen ground beneath his feet, and his figure was like a blue lightning bolt tearing through the wind and snow. His sword flashed, carrying an indomitable momentum, and he thrust straight for the Demons general's throat!