The Endless Winter
After spending quite some time clearing out bandits, the promised day finally arrived. Carrying a faint spark of anticipation, I headed for the blacksmith’s shop.
“Oh, you’re here.”
The moment I stepped inside, the blacksmith came forward to greet me. He looked as though he had just finished his work and been waiting for me; a small pair of gauntlets and boots sat ready on the counter.
When I glanced at them, he nodded.
“Those are yours. Want to try them on?”
I nodded and examined the boots and gauntlets. I had told him not to bother with fancy designs, and true to his word, they were simple, no-nonsense pieces that stuck to the basics.
I started with the boots. Sliding my feet into the long leather shafts, I pulled the laces tight. Then I fastened the special chromadium guards over them, locking everything firmly in place.
“How do they feel?”
“Oh—”
I let out a short sound of admiration as I tested the floor, shifting my weight this way and that. The inner lining was finished so well that my feet felt comfortable, and the solid pressure gripped my ankles with reassuring certainty.
“Adventurers spend a lot of time on the move, so good footwear matters. I put extra care into these.”
“They’re excellent.”
Next came the gauntlets. With a craftsman of his skill, the fit was naturally good. The weight balance felt right, and when I drew my sword and swung it a few times, there was no awkward resistance at all.
Whenever I crossed blades with human swordsmen, my wrists and fingers were always the most exposed. Wearing these gauntlets would take that danger off the table.
I flexed my wrists this way and that, then nodded.
“Fine work.”
“Of course it is. You think I run the biggest forge in this town for nothing?”
My praise brought a broad smile to the blacksmith’s face.
As usual, I stopped by the Adventurers’ Guild looking for a decent request, only to find far more adventurers milling about inside than normal.
The board still held the same sparse assortment of postings. So why had everyone suddenly come back?
I was staring at the crowd when a familiar voice spoke up behind me.
“Looking for something particular?”
“Ah—Receptionist.”
It was the guild receptionist. As always, he carried a thick stack of request forms and began tidying the board.
“No, nothing special. Just curious.”
At my answer he turned and swept his gaze around the hall. A moment later his eyes lit with recollection.
“Ah, it’s nothing much. Just…”
“Just?”
“The rumor that Kashipa is dead.”
“Kashipa… the dragon?”
“Yeah. The one who brought the endless winter.”
I tilted my head. Winter still hadn’t ended. What possible grounds could there be for a rumor that Kashipa was dead?
“You haven’t heard?”
The receptionist smiled—a rare sight—and began to explain.
The rumor had started with a single question: Why had Kashipa never moved in person? If she had simply come to this country herself, she could have destroyed everything without all the roundabout methods.
One man, determined to settle that curiosity, had climbed the snowy mountain himself.
“And he made it back alive?”
“He did. That’s why the rumor started spreading.”
“Did he see Kashipa’s corpse?”
“No. He saw nothing—not the vast wings beyond the white blizzard, not the gleam of Kashipa’s eyes in the dark.”
“Sounds like she just wasn’t home…”
“I think so too, but rumors always get twisted, don’t they? Whether Kashipa is actually dead or not doesn’t matter. Almost none of the adventurers here really believe she is.”
“Is that so?”
“What matters to them is the treasure in her lair. If Kashipa is away right now…? That’s the thought that brought them all here.”
“Then wouldn’t the first ones to leave take everything? Why are they still hanging around?”
“They’re watching each other. They gathered because of the rumor, but they know it’s probably empty. Plus the monsters living on that mountain make climbing alone nearly impossible.”
“Hmm…”
“If you’re interested, I can look for a party for you. A Silver Rank swordswoman would be welcome anywhere.”
“No, I’m fine.”
“If you change your mind, come find me anytime.”
With that, the receptionist began pinning new request forms to the board. Most of them were recruitment notices looking for party members.
As time passed, the weather began to ease. The once-biting wind carried a hint of warmth, and the icicles hanging from the eaves melted drop by drop—clear signs that winter was finally drawing to a close.
Smiles returned to the townsfolk’s faces. Some rejoiced that the unending winter was at last retreating, while foreign merchants who had come to sell winter goods wore long faces.
That was when the adventurers truly began to move. The fact that winter was ending lent weight to the wild rumor of Kashipa’s death.
Parties that had been ready to leave at a moment’s notice started departing the city, and those left behind scrambled as if fire had been set to their heels.
Pru-ruk—
“Shall we go too?”
At my question, Nightmare stamped the ground with a forehoof, ready whenever I was.
Raiding a dragon’s lair—what adventure could set the heart racing more than that?
An aimless adventurer’s life. Sometimes letting yourself be swept along by the crowd didn’t seem so bad.
I checked my bulging pack and took hold of Nightmare’s reins.
Thudud-thudud-thudud—
Nightmare’s crystal hooves smashed the half-melted ice road without mercy. Shattered white ice flew up in every direction like scattering snow.
The long column of adventurers stretched out, one group after another. Those of us on horseback or in carriages pulled ahead quickly, while those on foot inevitably fell behind.
Envy, jealousy, admiration, longing—all sorts of gazes clung to my back. A few adventurers who recognized me even waved as I passed.
The lengthy procession wasn’t only adventurers. Merchants hoping to sell them goods followed with heavy wagons and carts, escorted by guards, trailing the throng.
In the middle of our swift run I spotted the lead group of mounted adventurers who had broken ahead.
Hearing the thunder of Nightmare’s hooves behind them, they twisted around in surprise.
Five adventurers exchanged complicated looks. Then, as if reaching a decision, they nodded and began riding side by side, spreading out to block the narrow road.
They meant to keep anyone from overtaking them.
With hundreds of adventurers racing toward the same prize, everyone here was a rival. Their obstruction was only natural.
If I had been riding an ordinary horse I might have joined them or waited for a wider stretch of road. But Nightmare was no ordinary horse.
Pru-ruk—!
As if offended that lesser mounts dared bar his path, Nightmare poured on speed. Every time his powerful legs struck the ground, the frozen earth cracked and shattered under the force.
The moment the distance closed, Nightmare drove even harder and launched into the air.
The adventurers who had been watching me with wary eyes all snapped their heads up. Their stunned faces flashed beneath us as Nightmare formed a pure-white foothold of crystal in midair, stepped on it, and leapt even higher.
Tak—!
The crystal platform, its purpose served, shattered into white fragments and fell. As Nightmare descended, the five adventurers’ empty stares stabbed into my back.
Nightmare’s pace never slowed. If anything he accelerated, erasing the five he had vaulted over from my sight entirely.
“Master!!! Orcs!!!”
Rain spun this way and that, calling out to her master. Having spent her entire life inside the Magic Tower, she had never seen an orc before.
Everything here fascinated her—the orcs themselves, their culture, even the little girl figurines sold in the souvenir shop.
“Huh…?”
“What are you staring at so intently?”
Rain studied a small girl statue with careful eyes.
“Ceris…?”
The figurine on sale was unmistakably modeled after Ceris. Though unpainted, the delicate carving captured her features so well that anyone who knew her would recognize the subject at once.
“You know the Great Warrior?”
“G-Great Warrior…?”
“That statue.”
Rain looked up at the voice. Standing there was a half-orc, half-human man wearing an apron that somehow didn’t suit him at all.
“Isn’t this Ceris?”
“Great Warrior, you say… So the child received that title?”
The old mage gestured, and the girl figurine flew from the display into his hand.
“I would like to hear the details.”
“One gold.”
The old mage regarded the half-orc man in silence for a moment.
“Rain.”
“Ah, yes!”
Rain pulled a gold coin from her pouch and handed it over. The price was steep for such a small statue, yet neither Rain nor the old mage cared about the money.
“Will you tell us now?”
The half-orc, half-human—Agul—nodded and began to speak slowly. A peculiar light gleamed across his bald head.