Reunion in the Lake of the Ice Realm
Porter: Johann 36
The Lake of the Ice Realm was a dungeon that exuded a bone-chilling frost from its very entrance, like the depths of midwinter.
The name alone gave off that vibe strong enough to freeze your soul, so we'd prepared plenty of cold-weather gear. It had cleaned out what little money we had left. All our eggs in one basket.
"Ugh! No matter how I think about it, we got totally ripped off. Look, there are holes all over the seams where they stitched the fur and leather! Charging a whole silver for this junk winter gear!"
Even the desperate mage's haggling skills hadn't knocked down the price much. We were the ones on the back foot.
"Still, we're lucky to get even used stuff at that price. Without fur clothes, we couldn't have entered the dungeon at all."
The priest always saw the bright side of everything, as usual.
The Lake of the Ice Realm lived up to its name—a massive lake. In terms of size alone, you could mistake it for the sea.
The small icebergs floating around the edges hinted at the temperature here. Of course, the razor-sharp cold biting at your skin made it all too real.
"That's the bridge to the dungeon, right there!"
The priest's gaze fixed on a rickety wooden bridge. It was patched up in spots all over, narrow enough that two people could barely stand side by side.
The bridge stretched toward the center of the lake, where a large island loomed. That island was the heart of the dungeon, the Lake of the Ice Realm.
A lake named after a lake, but the main event was an island in the middle. What a random naming convention.
"Let's hurry! Time is money, and we're basically broke."
"Is this bridge safe?"
The priest tentatively extended her foot onto it. The weathered wood groaned under even that weight, creaking ominously. The priest and mage's faces drained of color.
"I-It'll be fine, right?"
"If we fall here, we'll freeze solid..."
"It'll be fine! Countless adventurers have crossed it before! Come on!"
The mage put on a brave front and took the lead. The priest and I followed behind.
Despite its shaky appearance, the bridge held up, faithfully doing its job. The creaks sounded like complaints, but it didn't collapse until we'd all reached the island safely.
"We made it!"
The priest let out a sigh of relief the moment her feet hit solid ground. The mage shook her head at the priest.
"We're in the dungeon now. No time to relax. Stay sharp."
"Of course! With our combo, we'll be fine!"
The priest's confidence clearly stemmed from me. I was the source of it.
First thing upon entering a dungeon: analyze the ecosystem.
We'd gotten plenty of info from the Adventurer's Guild, but book knowledge and hands-on experience were worlds apart. We needed to grasp the dungeon's ecology and prepare countermeasures.
"The brutal cold makes close combat or prolonged fights a bad idea. Sweating a lot in this environment robs your body heat fast. Can't afford to ruin the winter gear either."
"The porter's right. We need to strike first and fast to minimize expenditure."
The mage agreed with me. She was no slouch in dungeon knowledge either.
We advanced cautiously, minimizing our presence as much as possible.
Of course, even like this, fooling monsters native to this place—ones that had lived here their whole lives—would be tough. We knew that, but we still did everything we could.
I scanned the surroundings with Darkness Radar. Dozens of lifeforms popped up. But most weren't monsters—just insignificant critters surviving here, like small game or birds. Even in this extreme environment, base-level prey filled the ecosystem's foundation.
Feet light with treasure in tow—that was always the case. Vints was no exception.
Truth be told, Vints was even happier about mastering the finer control of his stigma's power than the loot. His battle with the White Wolf had elevated his skills another notch.
Not a wall-breaking leap, of course. But that alone satisfied him fully.
"Whew! Damn, it's freezing. Can't wait to warm up with some rum at the tavern."
"Priest, you're a priest—why drink rum like a sailor? Isn't that blasphemy?"
"Don't pin random crap on me. The gods never said no booze."
"Then why do all priests swear off alcohol?"
"Probably wanna act all high-class. Hypocrites, the lot of 'em."
"Harsh words even for your fellow priests. You really don't fit the mold."
"And you hate that?"
"Nah! Fucking love it!"
The mage and priest got along like two peas in a pod. Their lively banter was good for Vints too—it had a strange charm that let him forget his worries for a bit.
"Huh? Other adventurers over there?"
The mage spoke up. His finger pointed to a group of three, strolling casually.
From their gear, definitely adventurers. Who else would be out here?
"Oh ho. Meeting others here! They'll have suffered like us."
"Their packs look heavy. Found some good treasure too, huh."
"But not as good as ours, right? We took down the boss!"
"That was all the hero. Why you bragging?"
"Heh heh! A party's of one mind and body. What the hero does is what we do!"
While the mage and priest bantered, Vints eyed the approaching group closely. Something felt familiar.
A sturdy-built man walking toward them sparked an oddly welcoming feeling.
He pinpointed the reason quick. No forgetting that face, even if he tried. Its owner stood boldly before him.
"Here you are, Vints."
"Johann..."
Unbelievable. He'd crossed distances beyond "far-flung," and met a fellow countryman. Vints was so thrilled he broke character with a beaming smile.
"What, going full gay on me? You look ready to confess."
"No, just... too happy. Johann, what the hell? How'd you get here?"
"That's what I wanna know."
"Pure coincidence. Treasure hunt led me here. Months ago now."
Johann shook his head at Vints' words.
"Not months. I chased you the day after you vanished. Seems 'this side' and 'that side' run on different time axes."
"Really? That's a relief."
Vints' relief was genuine, lighting up his face.
"Hero! Who's that guy? Hometown buddy?"
The mage, lost on the situation, asked Vints. Johann's group was just as confused.
"Porter, you met a countryman? Wild coincidence."
"Yeah, mage. Gimme a sec to talk with my friend. So much to say."
"Sure. Must be a lot."
The mage nodded easily. Vints explained to his own party too. With his thick trust from them, they bought it quick.
Stepping away from their groups, the two dove into the stories they'd bottled up.
"Johann, you wanna hear my side?"
"Yeah. I just tailed you here. Went through hell with some weird well."
"Did you... meet the Goddess?"
"Goddess?"
First he'd heard of it.
"Yeah. Met her right when I arrived."
A goddess meant cheat powers—an isekai protagonist's golden ticket. A bad premonition stabbed at Johann's back.
"Don't tell me she gave you something."
"Yeah. This."
Vints rolled up his right sleeve, showing Johann. Spiderweb scars etched his arm like an intricate tattoo. Johann recognized it instantly. His eyes went cold as a killer's.
"The hero's stigma."
Johann spoke calmly, masking his feelings. No need to tip his hand to Vints.
"Right. Stigma of the Thunderclap, she called it."
The cheat was already Vints'.
Disappointment crashed in. No chance since Vints jumped the well.
Johann kept his face neutral, scheming. Opportunities might remain—like stealing the power.
'That Thunderclap power must be insanely strong. Described as such in the original. If I snag it, I'll milk it forever...'
Too early to quit. Ways to rip it off might exist.
The cheat hadn't ditched him yet—just parked in Vints temporarily.
Oblivious, Vints kept explaining.
"She said use this stigma's power to reseal the Demon King."
"Demon King, huh. Heard at the guild. Thing in the Demon King's Tower?"
"Said the stigma awakens in three stages while sealing her. At the end, a key back to our world."
Classic isekai hero cliche. Johann got it fast.
"Gotta beat the Demon King then. I'll help."
Stick close, bide time for the cheat. That was the play.
"Great. You'll boost our strength huge. I'll convince the others."
"Nah. You join our party. We got mage and priest already. You with the hero stigma completes us."
Vints looked troubled at Johann's scout pitch. Bonds with his comrades ran deep. Ditching them coldly went against his code.
"Tough. Can't betray my team."
"So betraying me's fine?"
"...Guess we all got reasons to stick with our parties. Merging might need rethink."
Vints backed off first. Johann dropped the pressure—stubborn skull like that wouldn't crack easy head-on.
"Yeah. We got our own crews. Tough to merge right now."
Step back for now. Not quitting. Johann pondered trimming Vints' party—ideally bloodless, with priest and mage around.
'Got a nice pawn for that.'
Johann thought of the hero.