The howling north wind swept across the empty wilderness, carrying snow and ice that had yet to melt. It battered the party trudging through the storm, cutting their faces like knives.
Pal tugged at his cloak and clicked his tongue. "They actually call this 'early spring'? I haven't seen so much as a blade of grass."
He rode a tall horse, his red-and-black cloak embroidered with a gold-thread crest that made him stand out all the more.
Even in this northern wilderness, he still looked every bit the young noble out on a pleasure trip.
Not far behind him, Veris bowed his head and pulled his black cloak tighter, riding without a word.
His gaze constantly swept ahead and around them, tracking changes in the terrain, landscape, weather, and marching speed. From time to time, he even noted collapsed outposts and traces left by wild beasts along the road.
Pal had scarcely ever taken the initiative to speak to him. In truth, he looked down on this "bastard."
Veris had no desire to speak to him either. Though they were brothers, they barely knew each other. They traveled together only because they were headed the same way and could watch each other's backs.
Frost Glaive City finally appeared at the far end of the snowy plain.
Its walls towered high, built from rough but substantial stone. Battle scars lingered on their weathered surfaces, as though banners might rise above them at any moment to repel another enemy army.
Two flags hung high on either side of the gate, snapping in the wind. Though somewhat faded by the storms, the silver eagle crest of Frost Glaive City remained recognizable.
Above the gatehouse, guards stood with halberds in hand, their armor gleaming iron-gray in the cold light, their eyes alert.
As they