Wolf pulled a magitech stone from his utility pouch. As a faint shimmer surfaced in his eyes, the core of the stone ignited with a dull crimson glow. With a forceful heave, he hurled it into the murky sky.

  The stone shattered upon impact, erupting into a thick, blood-red plume of smoke. The red mist struggled to expand against the dancing curtain of snow, only to be torn and diluted by the biting wind. Still, it was enough to alert Vivian behind them to slow down and halt.

  —If Emma were still nearby, she would see the signal and regroup with them.

  Wolf pulled back on the reins, and the Snow-Strider Hounds slowed with low whimpers. One by one, the two camp wagons ground to a halt in the middle of the vast, snow-covered road.

  The rear carriage door remained closed, but Vivian leaped down alone, walking quickly toward the front to assess the situation.

  "Emma is gone!"

  Wolf jumped down from his seat to meet Vivian. Before she could ask, he spoke first, his voice raspy and urgent, swallowed by the wind.

  Vivian frowned, instinctively scanning the surroundings. "The snow is too thick. Just keeping your wagon in my sights took all my concentration," she shouted over the gale, before narrowing her eyes with a hint of suspicion. "I thought I saw the silhouette of the snow wolf not too long ago. When exactly did she vanish?"

  "I sent up a flare," Wolf pointed toward the last wisps of crimson fading in the sky. "She only disappeared recently; she should be able to see it. Let's wait here for a moment."

  Vivian didn't respond immediately. She squinted toward the distance, where the snow was becoming denser and the wind lashed at every visible outline like a cold whip.

  "Your signal won't last long," she said with a clinical, almost cruel detachment. "I only noticed it because I was staring right at you. In this weather, that smoke dissipates too fast."

  Wolf's face darkened. He hammered his fist against the iron plating of the wagon with a dull thud.

  Ronen climbed out of the carriage, his youthful face etched with unease.

  "What happened? What did Master Ethan say?"

  "Master Ethan tried," Ronen said, looking around. "Within his sensory range... there's only our own mana echoes."

  "That doesn't make sense!" Wolf turned sharply, his eyes bloodshot. "I was keeping an eye on her position specifically to stay in sync with her pace. Even if I looked less often after the blizzard worsened, I made sure to catch a glimpse of her every few minutes."

  "I'm not sure exactly when she vanished, but it couldn't have been long. Our directions were aligned and our speeds were similar. Even if she slipped out of sight, the distance shouldn't have grown this large!"

  "My apologies, Mr. Wolf."

  Master Ethan's voice drifted from the carriage entrance, followed by his somewhat frail silhouette. The mage had barely poked his head out before the frigid wind made him recoil, but he forced himself out into the snow, speaking quickly and clearly.

  "The blizzard has severely interfered with the local mana field. The air is saturated with active water and wind elements. This has drastically limited my sensory range; even with Mana Vision, the area I can clearly perceive has become very restricted."

  Their gazes swept across the white expanse repeatedly, but they found only a boundless void. The snow showed no signs of stopping.

  "We should keep moving," Vivian said, her breath hitching in a puff of white. Her tone was weighed down by helplessness. "Since we agreed on the outpost as a rendezvous point, we should at least wait for her there."

  "I suppose that's all we can do," Wolf said grimly. "Everyone stay alert. Don't let anyone else fall behind."

  He patted Ronen on the shoulder. This time, Ronen didn't climb back into the carriage. Instead, he stayed by the driver’s seat and took hold of a set of reins.

  "I'll help."

  Wolf glanced at him and didn't object. The White Tiger's Fang dealt with monsters year-round; while Ronen wasn't a master beast-tamer, he was competent enough to drive Snow-Strider Hounds.

  The wagons started up again, but the atmosphere was a far cry from their departure. A heavy layer of unease hung over everyone's heart. Wolf's brow remained tightly knitted.

  "Vanishing without a trace before the mission has even truly begun... this is a foul omen," he muttered, more to himself than to anyone else.

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  Ronen tightened his grip on the reins. "Our mission is to investigate the missing mages from the Eye of the Blizzard, right? Could this be... related?"

  Wolf glanced at him sideways. "You think there's a connection?"

  "They're both disappearances."

  Wolf let out a short laugh and shook his head, returning his gaze to the road ahead. "Do you have any idea how far we are from that mage tower? By your logic, every missing person in the Empire could be related to our mission."

  "Don't overthink it, kid. We don't know the situation at the Eye of the Blizzard yet. Don't be so tense! Emma... she probably just lost her way in the whiteout, or found a place to rest."

  "After all, she likely just got separated." He paused, lowering his voice. "Just keep your eyes on Vivian's wagon behind us. Maintain the distance. Don't let anything else go wrong."

  The surrounding fields gradually thinned out, the endless plains replaced by rolling hills. Eventually, the snow eased. Weak sunlight pierced the clouds, casting scattered glimmers across the drifts.

  The camp wagons began to slow.

  Ahead lay a brownish hill, topped by a rugged, crescent-shaped stone structure—the outpost they were seeking.

  The outpost was built into the gentle slope, draped in a flat sheet of white. The main entrance consisted of two massive stone gates. To the northeast was a fenced culvert where a stream should have flowed, now reduced to a winding shell of ice.

  Ronen looked up at the hillside. A banner hung limp in the faint wind—a sword and hammer crossed against a gold coin. It was the crest of Glory City, symbolizing mercenaries, craftsmen, and merchants—the extension of order into this plain.

  "That's North Jade Mountain, and the outpost is North Jade Outpost," Wolf explained while controlling the reins. "This is the boundary. South is the Glory Plains. North... is the Frostlands."

  Ronen listened intently, memorizing the landscape.

  "You'll likely come through here often in the future. Many contracts from Glory City—scouting, searching, rescuing—usually use this place as a temporary base before pushing further north." Wolf glanced at him. "Choosing this as a rendezvous was also a way to help you learn the route."

  Ronen looked toward the outpost gates. From this distance, he couldn't see clearly, but a few soldiers stood guard. Perhaps because of the snow or the midday hour, they seemed somewhat lax—some leaning against the wall with spears, others sitting on the ground.

  About a hundred feet from the outpost stood two or three old wooden sheds. Their roofs were heavy with snow, and the wooden frames groaned in the wind as if they might collapse at any moment. Wolf parked the wagon in front of the sheds.

  "In the future, if you come alone, park here. Unless absolutely necessary, don't approach the outpost." He lowered his voice, pointing toward several inconspicuous mounds of earth.

  Ronen looked closer and noticed that among the seemingly natural rises were blocks of cold, hard stone. Between the stones were foot-long black slits.

  "Those are bunkers. They house magitech ballistas." Wolf's voice was calm, but his tone was dead serious. "The orders I've heard of are: anyone approaching without clear intent is to be shot on sight."

  He paused, looking at Ronen. "So, stopping here is enough. No need to gamble on whether a soldier is having a bad day. Usually, they won't fire—as long as you don't look suspicious or hostile." Wolf pulled his lips back in a gesture that wasn't quite a smile. "But avoid risks whenever you can."

  Ronen looked at the silent stone slits and nodded slowly.

  Once the wagons were steady, Wolf scanned the area. The blizzard had ceased, but there was still no sign of Emma. He sighed. "It seems she hasn't arrived."

  He tapped on the carriage glass. "We're here! Everyone out for some air and a rest!"

  Then, he reached under the driver's seat and pulled out two old wooden-handled hammers, handing one to Ronen while grabbing a few thick planks himself. "Follow me."

  The two of them walked toward the shed that was nearly crushed by snow. Wolf stepped onto the creaking stairs. "The Mercenary Association built these sheds years ago for passing mercenaries to rest."

  He knelt down to inspect a rotting beam. "But this place is a fair distance from Glory City. Even if the Association occasionally puts out a repair contract, few people make the trip just for routine maintenance." He aligned a plank over a gap. "So there's an unwritten rule among mercenaries—whoever stops here, if they have the chance, fixes what's broken."

  Wolf raised his hammer and drove in the first nail. "It makes things easier for yourself, and for those who come after."

  Ronen began helping Wolf with the repairs, but his gaze kept drifting toward the distant outpost. "Uncle, what is that outpost actually for?"

  "North Jade Outpost serves two purposes: marking the border and warning against beast tides." It was Vivian who answered.

  After yesterday's duel, the female warrior seemed to be paying more attention to Ronen. She walked over after parking her wagon.

  "It seems Emma still hasn't arrived," she said, echoing Wolf's observation as she looked around.

  "We'll have to wait here for a while before deciding what to do," Wolf said, shaking his head.

  "I'll lend a hand," Vivian said, reaching out to help Ronen steady a plank. Ronen nodded instinctively, but as she drew close, he flinched slightly—his abdomen gave a twinge of phantom pain. Yesterday's beating had clearly left an impression.

  "What did you mean by 'warning against beast tides'?" Ronen asked.

  "You saw the fields on the way here. The Glory Plains are mostly farmland. North of here, the mountains get steeper and the forests thicker; the monsters become more numerous," Vivian said steadily, as if briefing a squad. "During most of the year it's fine, but in winter, they migrate south seeking warmth. Once the scale is large enough, it becomes a beast tide."

  Wolf, still hammering, added: "You should remember—the legion’s extermination contracts always spike in the winter."

  "So that's why," Ronen gave a sheepish grin. "In the past, we were just told where to go and how many to kill."

  "When you move with the legion, you only need to follow orders," Vivian said, glancing at him. "But if you want to stand on your own, you should understand the 'why' behind the missions."

  She continued: "This outpost is meant to detect beast tide movements early and send out warnings. If a massive swarm of monsters breaks into the farmlands, the loss to the Empire would be unbearable. The soldiers here scout regularly, evacuate villagers when necessary, and set up roadblocks. Once a beast tide forms, they report it immediately so the army can be deployed for a purge."

  "Aside from that, they occasionally have to deal with mountain bandits and outlaws," Wolf finished, driving in the last nail.

  The crude repairs were finished. The shed was still old, but it no longer looked like it was on the verge of toppling.

  "Alright, you two get lunch ready. I'm going to ask the soldiers. Maybe Emma arrived early and already moved on."

  Wolf turned his gaze toward the distant, silent stone fortress.